#kill easy pete

[0rph1x]

look at them look at them look at them look at them look at th

[pumpkinrootbeer]

Things I think about all the time regarding Peter B is how a lot of his movement feels almost like laziness but it's actually just an absurd amount of skill and experience. he's been doing this longer than anyone else there, so he knows how that villain speech is going to play out, doesn't look when he fires a web because he knows exactly where it's going to land, and he's absolutely able to predict where Miles is going to go and catch up to him when no one else can. because peter b has been at this longer than everyone else there and it's literally second nature to him. give me more middle aged experienced superheros please.

[scarletspider2the2ndpower]

“Who Was Ben Reilly?” Amazing Spider-Man (Vol. 1/1963), #610.

Writer: Marc Guggenheim; Pencilers: Marco Checchetto and Luke Ross; Inkers: Marco Checchetto and Rick Magyar; Colorists: Fabio D’Auria and Jeromy Cox; Letterer: Joe Caramagna

[kingtomura]

Arcade

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting ditched by your so-called friends on a Friday night. Well, maybe the asshole complaining about your skills at the arcade has that beat. Tomura Shigaraki knows how to make one hell of a first impression. word count: 8.5k Part three to Good Girl and Bloodline Content: Tomura Shigaraki x female reader, quirkless AU, fluff, angst, virginity loss, virginity kink, corruption kink, mutual masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral (f! receiving), praise, strict parents, toxic parents, smut with plot, protected sex, piv, overstim, tomura talks you through it, if you know what i mean, reader is kinda bad at games sry, mdni crossposted to ao3 | Part 4 is here!

You meet him on a Friday.

The mall is crowded and filled to the brim with groups of friends, chattering, laughing – wondering what to get into for the night. You’re just trying to find your group. They said that they would meet you here almost an hour ago, but no one has shown up. 

Bitterly you kick the small rock in front of you, officially accepting the fact that you had been ditched and decide it’s too early to go home. It’s a Friday night for pete’s sake. You walk aimlessly through the mall, only pausing when the noises of video game lasers and hyper dance music flood your ears. 

The arcade. Of course you could kill some time there, people go there alone all the time. No one would think you were out of place and effectively ditched. 

You make your choice, beelining for the upgraded rendition of Pac Man and slipping in a coin to start it. 

The excitement was short lived as you remembered that the game isn’t as easy as you remembered. Whatever, you take your leave and try for a game you hadn’t played before. Something simple with muted colors. It’s fun, but a little difficult. You find yourself getting lost in it, the sounds drowning out the bustling of the arcade.

You huff as you lose another round and reach down, ready to drop a coin and start up again when you hear an annoyed groan coming from behind.

“Can I help you?” You ask, giving the guy a once over. He wore all black with ashen hair and ruby red eyes that shone with annoyance.

“Yeah, you could find another game to suck at.” He scoffs, as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.

Irritating. 

You take the challenge. “Oh yeah? Well let's see you try it then, since it’s so easy.”

He shrugs, brushing by you and inserting his own coin into the machine, the beeps of the game starting up and filling tension between you. 

This guy… was good at the game — as much as you hated to admit it. He blew through the enemies with little to no trouble and easily passed your place in the game. Ending it all with one final blow to the boss and snagging the new high score right before your eyes. 

To say you were embarrassed was a little less than an understatement, but you wouldn’t let him know that. So, you double down, brows furrowed and standing proud. 

The mystery man turns back to you, carmine eyes gleaming in triumph over his easy win. “See? You suck.”

You bristle at his blunt insult and bite back. “Yeah, well I only tried this game today! You think you're so good, why don’t you try to beat me at a game I'm good at.”

He looks you over, eyes dragging from your head to the converse on your feet, before turning back around towards the game and dropping another coin into it. 

“No thanks.” 

This asshole… you don’t know why you're fighting this battle, you don't even know this man! But it would be a lie if you didn’t think it was entertaining —- in an annoying way, of course. 

But you take your loss and give up, moving on to the next game. It is something silly and bright, but also difficult. It's easy to get lost in and you find yourself aggressively tapping the buttons, inevitably losing the game and huffing off to find the next one. 

You choose a first person shooter this time. Originally a two player game, but you play on your own — taking down zombie after zombie as you try (and fail) to progress to the next stage. 

You groan as the game over screen mocks you for what feels like the thousandth time that night and fight to keep from banging your head against the screen in frustration. 

“You’re doing it wrong,” a low voice speaks from behind you and you can already feel your anger flaring. “It’s all in the aim.”

“Yeah, well, what do you know?” You ask bitterly, watching as the same asshole from before puts a coin in and starts the game up again. 

He makes it look so easy, getting headshot after headshot as he easily advances to the next rounds. There was a moment you swore he would lose as a mob of zombies crowded him, but he hit a flammable container in the background, causing an explosion and killing all of the zombies. 

The winning screen lit up his pale cheeks in a red hue, giving him a faux flush of color making the butterflies in your stomach go wild. 

You can’t bite back your sigh of defeat this time, the losing streak getting to you. “Did you come over here just to show off? I can do without that, thank you.”

He only shakes his head, putting in another coin and starting the game up again. You stare blankly as he hits the two player button and hands you a gun. 

“No, let me show you why you’re not winning.” It's spoken like you asked him for advice and you know damn well you didn’t, but you take the gun anyway because you had no reason not to.

Muttering a taut fine and gearing yourself up for more humiliation, you stand tall and hold the plastic gun up to the screen, ready to shoot incoming enemies.

You jolt when you feel the guy come up behind you, placing his hands over yours and moving them so that you have a better grip on the weapon. 

It was so quick and so natural your cheeks began heating for a reason completely different from your earlier embarrassment. 

He was so warm, his hands were warm and calloused and you could feel the heat of his body radiating onto your back as he invaded your personal space to show you how to hold the plastic gun. 

Your heart hammered against your chest but you forced yourself to keep your eyes forward and face neutral. 

It was much easier said than done, you realize as he leans in, his soft hair tickling your ear as he spoke, guiding you through the mini tutorial of how to shoot the zombies. 

Everything he said went in one ear and out the other as you could only focus on the low vibrato of his voice, explaining as his fingers ghosted over yours, casually helping you shoot. 

The smell of fresh linen and what you could assume was citrus shampoo flooding your nose, making you dizzy as you struggled to listen. You wanted nothing more than to lean back into this stranger, fully feel the warmth of his chest against your back and run your fingers through his soft locks. But you didn’t. 

You will yourself to focus on the sounds of the game and his technique, knowing that you will probably be playing the game soon and didn’t want to look silly if your skill remained the same.

Unfortunately, he pulled away sooner rather than later, taking all of his extra warmth and citrus scent with him. 

“Do you get it now?” He asks, rasp in his voice having genuine curiosity and you nod, ready to try your luck at the game now.

It seems like his tutoring wasn’t in vain and you both pull out a win, scoring high enough to place your names on the screen. 

You can’t hide your excitement from your first win of the night, turning to your new companion as he looked over the other high scores on the board.

“So, what’s your name?” You ask, riding the high of the win and letting the confidence of it guide you. “Because I don't think it would be DustKing like your high score says.”

He gives a small laugh, something tiny and barely there – a mere blow of air through his nose — and looks at you. Those carmine eyes send heat rushing to your cheeks again and spreading to the tips of your ears. 

“Tomura.” Is all he gives and you nod, giving him your name and turning back to the arcade game again. 

“Wanna give it another try?” You offer, and he gives you a small smile back, dropping a coin into the machine and starting up another round. 

“Sure.”

And suddenly, being ditched on a Friday night by your so-called friends isn’t so bad.

—---------------------

The next time you meet Tomura, it is on a saturday afternoon.

The arcade is already bustling with people and the noise almost makes you turn on your heels and walk away. But you don't, instead white hair and dark clothes catch your eye and your feet move before your mind can catch up with the actions. 

“Hey!” You greet, a little too chipper and a little too close. 

Tomura looks down at you, eyes dropping to your shirt and then back up again. You weren't sure if he had been checking you out or trying to size you up. It makes you falter a bit as he goes back to his game, effectively ignoring you.

The behavior is odd, but you try not to let it bother you. The last time you met the both of you played the silly zombie game until the arcade closed — there was no way he didn’t remember who you were.

You feel a little out of place and the tiniest bit hurt as you take a step back, ready to find any other distraction in the arcade to erase this from your brain. 

“Um, okay, bye then—” You start, but you’re cut off by Tomura’s groan. He lost the game and it's difficult to hold back the laughter.

“God, you’re such a distraction. You made me lose!” He barks, riling you up.

Your brows furrow in frustration, you’ve barely said two words to the guy. “How did I make you lose? I just got here!”

“Yeah, and you're being all distracting, with your little shirt and your jeans. What do you want?” 

What the hell was that supposed to mean? The statement is lost on you as your anger takes the forefront. “Don’t blame me because you’re off your game today.”

“I will blame you, because it’s your fault.”

“Whatever, Tomura. Since you’re done losing at this game, why don't you try one you;ll need real skill to play?” you challenge and hope he takes the bait, the irritated narrowing of his eyes shows that he will and you bury your giddiness inside.

“Fine, I'll try it.”

Tomura loses. Bad. And you can't stop the tears from crowding your eyes as you laugh at his misfortune. 

“No, why did you rush out so fast?” You hear Tomura’s low growl of annoyance and continue, “This is not that kind of game! Slow and steady wins the race, you know.” 

Wiping the tear from your eye, you try again, dropping a coin and gearing up for the next round while Tomura sits beside you, seething. The game starts up again and it's bright and inviting. You strategically tap at the buttons, ensuring that your duck character can make it across the street safely. 

It's only when you hear the splash of the fallen duck next to yours that you break out into laughter once more, accidently tapping the button and sending your duck into the open road, ending the game for you both. 

“This game is rigged!” Tomura protests, frustration palpable and scowl deep on his face. 

You only shrug, knowing it's not an easy game, “Well, I'm sure you’d say that about any game you aren't good at.” 

“That's a lie.” He states. Blunt and firm. This guy… He’s so rude, but so cute. You want to bite him.

“It's not,” You keep your voice light as you tease, not wanting to push him too far. “You don’t have patience so of course you would lose.” 

“I could beat you at other games.”

This piques your interest, brows flying up. “Oh, yeah? Like what?” 

He shrugs, irritation all but dissipated. “Mario Kart. 200cc. It takes patience and it’s not rigged.” 

You take the bait, fingers twitching in anticipation, “Sure, but look where we are. There is no Mario Kart here.” 

The look tomura gives you makes you wonder if you’d asked if the sky were blue. “I have Mario Kart at my house. Stop by and I'll kick your ass at it.”

You are stubborn, and decide fine. If he wants to be cocky, then you could bring him down a notch. “Alright, let's go and we'll see.” 

He nods and you both take off, leaving the noise and excitement of the arcade behind.

Tomura was not lying when he said Mario Kart required patience. 

You were currently in his room, on his bed as you try and fail to correct your character's position on the race track. You were stuck against a wall and slowly turning the opposite way, meanwhile, the other karts whip past your character — mocking while you firmly sat in dead last. 

The small laugh Tomura gives is enough to send you into a rage. Standing up, you grip the controller with force, twisting and turning with it as if it would give you more control over your character. It did not. 

“Oh, come on!” You shout.

“You have to use your brakes at this speed.” Tomura supplies, his character crossing the finish line and cheering at its win. 

Your frustration is blinding because once again, those large, warm hands were covering yours, Tomura’s low voice filled with amusement as he guided your character to the finish line. 

Embarrassment wasn’t enough for what you were feeling. Not only did you talk shit and lose, but you needed help from him again. 

He pulls away and you fleetingly think it’s too soon, watching as Tomura grabs his own controller and flips through the options. “We could try a slower cc. 200cc is brutal to newer players.”

“You knew that and you still let me play it?” He clearly set you up, you bitterly realize as you sit next to him on the bed, watching the screen.

“Yeah, for all I know you could have been a prodigy. You weren't though, so it’s nothing I have to worry about.” 

“Hey!” You scold, smacking his arm and grabbing the controller. “Fine. Let's do 50cc and see how good you are.”

Tomura shrugs, plucking the item from your hand and getting more comfortable. “Sure, but don’t think slower races will mean you’re better.” 

The next race goes about the same as the first one, but at least this time your character sticks to the road and you’ve even placed higher this time. Eighth place! Take that. 

“Impressive,” Tomura drags, voice stripped of malice and insults. It was a small feat, but still better than twelfth place. 

It's hard to keep your excitement down, a stark contrast to Tomura’s reserved demeanor. You’ve only met him recently but he's already perfected the way to get your feathers ruffled and rile you up. 

“Yeah, well I'm going to buy the game and practice on my own. Just wait, you’ll be in last place soon.” You had the gaming console, but never this game. It wouldn’t be too steep of an investment. 

Tomura hums, pondering a moment before responding, “You could always just come over and practice. No need to waste the money when I have it.”

His words make you pause, slowly realizing where you are and who you're with. Some guy you met at the arcade — in his home, in his room, playing video games. How did that happen so fast? Your parents would kill you.

“I guess.” You look around, suddenly wanting to find anything else to focus on that isn’t the man beside you. Now that you think about it, you’ve never really been alone with another guy before. Especially not in his room. Sure, you had all kinds of male friends, but never any this close. It made you… nervous. And warm. 

Very warm. Something that spread from the pits of your abdomen and crawled its way back up into your cheeks. 

You hoped Tomura wouldn't notice your blush and searched your brain for any way to get out of this situation. 

But then he was speaking again and god, was his voice always this low?

“Do you want to go another round?”

“Huh?” You stammer, looking over and it was a mistake because you were forced to notice how close you two were sitting, on his bed of all places. You shake the thoughts from your head, “y-yeah, we should play another round.”

You reach for the controller and Tomura stops you, grabbing your chin, forcing you to look him in the eyes. 

“Hey, what's your problem?” Blunt. Rude. Fucking cute. 

It's settled. You hate this man. 

His brows furrowed as he moved closer, examining your face as if he could peer into your mind with his eyes alone. It made you want to shrink away, but that would only make his observation worse.

“Are you... getting nervous?” Your eyes widen at the words and you pull away completely, shaking your head, 

“No! Of course not.” You cross your arms in a huff and absently wonder if you could take your leave now. 

“You are,” he decides, a slow grin creeping across his face, “Why?” 

You're sure the ground will open up and swallow you whole if you just wish hard enough for it. Maybe then Tomura would back up out of your personal space and shut up.

“I'm not nervous.” You bluff, praying he won’t see through you. 

“I know why.” 

You brace yourself for mortification. 

“It’s because you know you’re going to lose.” 

He has that smug smile on his face and it hits you. 

He has no idea. Tomura doesn’t get it — he thinks you’re upset about the game and not the fact that you can smell the citrus of his shampoo and see the flecks of black in his red eyes. 

God, maybe he’s an idiot. 

You want to kiss him. 

“Don’t be nervous,” he assures, giving you a little smile and grabbing the controller again, “I’ll walk you through it.”

There was something about Tomura’s choice of words that made you think maybe, just maybe, he had a little more of an idea about your mood than he let on. You press your thighs together, praying it was subtle, and mentally push away the arousal you began to feel at his low tone of voice. 

“Sure.”

The next round you both play goes the same as the others. Tomura winning and you barely breaking the top ten. Your frustration was becoming palpable as it no longer was fun to see your character cry at the end of the match. 

“We don't have to play anymore.” You look over at Tomura’s words and he’s stretching, eyes closing at the movement. You can't help but notice the sliver of his exposed abdomen as he reaches up. 

You get a glimpse of his lithe figure and feel your mind begin to wonder what the rest looks like, but cut your thoughts short as he adjusts and meets your eyes again.  

You should get out of here before you embarrass yourself.

“Where are you going?” Tomura questioned, the minute you stood to leave.

“Um, home? It’s getting late.”

“Not that late. C’mon, it’s a Saturday. You have somewhere to be or something?” He’s getting up and you can only assume it's to get another game. You are correct because he turns to show you the case and it’s of a white goose. “This game is more fun.”

You look at the time on your phone and shrug. He's right, it's not that late — there should be no harm in staying a little longer.

So you do.

And it’s worth it as you both watch two geese in the game with excellent teamwork terrorize a farmer.

“Okay, you distract him and I’ll take his hat.” You were on a mission and Tomura indulged you, making his goose honk while yours swooped in, effectively stealing the hat and allowing you both to progress to the next level.

“Hah! I knew that would work.” You feel elated as you watch the geese move on, waddling across the screen and into the next area, “And you’re not so bad yourself, for a goose.” 

Tomura huffs a laugh, shallow and light before turning to you, “I carried you that round, but okay.”

You haven't known each other long, but he already knows his way around getting you riled up. 

The comment makes you turn so that you are better positioned on his bed, one leg still hanging off the end of it while trying not to puff your cheeks. You would be fighting a losing battle if he saw how riled up you were.

“Hey, I’m the one who told you where the picnic blanket was!”

“Okay? And who brought everything to the blanket?” he leaned forward, invading your space and challenging.

You didn’t back down, both of you so close, almost nose to nose. “You. but only after I found everything.”

The distance between the two of you was slim, and the air was heated, his crimson eyes looked down at you with that smug smirk on his lips and you wanted to bite him.

Or kiss him.

Whichever came first. 

Tomura followed your line of sight and it only made his smug expression worse, if that were even possible — yet neither of you backed away. His lips parted like he was on the edge of saying something, but was cut off by the peppy chime of your phone’s ringtone. 

That seemed to dissipate some of the tension between you two as it caused you to back away and scramble to find your phone on his bed. 

Once you’ve gotten it and answered, there’s the familiar voice of your mother on the other end, worrying about where you are and questioning when you would be home, standard practice for her. After many reassuring yeses and “i’ll be there soon”’s you are finally free of the call, now knowing that you have to wrap this up and head out. 

“Who was that?” Tomura questioned and his voice seems loud in the quiet of the room. 

You turn back to him and his eyes are waiting, expecting. He’s not doing anything but looking at you and it still feels like he can see all of you, as if you’re naked and bare, exposed completely. 

“My mom.” You can’t help the small shrug of your shoulders, feeling a little embarrassed at how uncool it could look to have your parents keep tabs on you all the time.

“Aww,” Tomura coos, and it's said more like an afterthought, something to fill the air as he leaned forward — finally, finally closing the distance between you both and kissing your lips. 

It shocks you as you feel the soft cotton his duvet hit your back, Tomura’s lips still pressed to yours as he pushed you down. They were rough but so warm, just like the rest of him, and your hand seeks his hair, finally indulging in the urge you’ve had to touch it since you’ve met him. 

He groans when you give it a tug and you whimper when he bites your lip a little too hard. It drives you crazy and Tomura wastes no time in deepening the kiss, his tongue swiping over yours as his hands slide up your shirt. You let out a gasp  when he cups your breast, taking a sensitive nub between his forefinger and thumb. The feeling has you mewling into his mouth and arousal soaking your panties. 

It doesn’t take much to get you riled up, especially since the furthest you’ve ever gone with a guy is a kiss here and there. 

Tomura crowds your senses as he hovers over you, caging you below him as he sits between your spread legs. Your heart races as you keep your eyes squeezed shut, you don’t know how far you’re going to go, but you definitely did not think you would be losing your virginity today. 

He pulls away, lifting his shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor of the room. You waste no time taking in the new sight of his exposed chest, desperate to reach your hands out to touch. 

But Tomura was back down again before you had a chance to, his mouth making its way down your jaw and neck leaving kisses and licks in its wake. It’s sensitive, especially when Tomura sucks right on a particular spot on your neck, making you cry out. 

“D-don’t leave a mark.” You stutter, words nearly lost to the pleasure. 

“Why not?” The warmth of his tongue licking the area he’d just sucked on was making you shiver. 

Your hands were gripping his shoulder, desperate for any kind of grounding. “Because my parents. They would k-kill me.”

Tomura hums, seeming to take your concern into consideration before pulling away. You’re worried you’ve blown it and ruined the mood, but he just tugs at your shirt. 

“Get this off.” 

You can feel the heat on your face, from the kissing, but now you feel it burn more as you gaze at the man above you. The words make you stall, process what's going on — what you should do. 

No one’s seen you without a shirt, especially not in this situation, but honestly? Who cares. You’re an adult, you can and will make your own choices. 

There’s no one else in this room but you and Tomura, so when you sit up to remove your shirt and bra, catching Tomura’s eyes scan your newly exposed body, you can’t help but smile at the chill of excitement that dances down your spine. 

It makes your heart flutter so you pull him back into a kiss and back down onto the bed, fisting your hands in his ashen locks again and savoring the groans he made. 

Tomura makes his way down again, taking your right breast into his mouth and tweaking the nipple of your other with his free hand. The sensations are overwhelming and you moan, arching your back and trying with all you had to pull Tomura closer. 

He obliged by lowering his hips and grinding down against you, the press of his erection against your clothed cunt drives you wild. Tomura comes back up, claiming your mouth again and he is demanding as he deepens the kiss, giving you everything you wanted and more. 

You wanted to take it further, needed to take it further, but you weren’t sure how to progress from making out. Telling Tomura you were a virgin would probably make things awkward and you were going to lose it if everything ended here.

Tomura pulls away to look at you, flushed and red while you ponder what to do with your hand placement. You decide to wrap them around Tomura’s neck, pulling him close enough that he rests his forehead on yours. 

Your breaths intertwine as you both stare at each other in a daze. 

“What?” He asks first, breathless and curious. 

You cut your eyes to the side, hoping your scoff came off as unconcerned instead of wildly nervous, “Nothing! Nothing..”

Your tone is not lost on Tomura as he narrows his eyes, gears turning in his head and piercing gaze seemingly looking through you and into your deepest thoughts. “Why are you being shy like a virgin?”

The way you purse your lips gives you away and you do everything to avoid his gaze, which is hard when you’re both so close to each other. 

“Oh my god, you are.” There’s a whimsy excitement in his voice and suddenly, embarrassment is creeping its way back into your mind, “why didn’t you say so?” 

You look up as Tomura pulls back, his smile open wide on his face, ill hidden elation buzzing in his words. 

There’s your innate need to defend yourself and your honor rising up again and you can’t stop yourself. So what if you’re a blushing virgin. “Yeah, so? Aren’t you?” 

His shoulders give a small shrug, “Maybe.” 

Then he’s down again, lips next to your ear as his hands trailed down your waist, leaning goosebumps in their wake. 

“Have you ever made yourself cum before?” He asks and you can feel his smile against your ear.

Embarrassment has officially taken the forefront of your mind as you weakly shake your head no, “I’ve tried, but when I get close the feeling goes away.” Might as well be honest since it can’t get more vulnerable than this.

Tomura hums, one hand reaching to take your hand in his, “I could show you how, if you want.”

You feel his hand drag yours lower, down your body and to the hem of your pants and stop, waiting for a response. It feels like your nerves are in overdrive and you writhe below him in anticipation, nodding your head, “P-please.”

Tomura pulls away, taking his warmth with him as he reaches down to unbutton your pants, removing them and leaving your panties. 

“You’re soaked.” He muses, causing you to whine in anticipation. “Show me how you do it.”

And you do, slipping your hand under your panties and biting back a moan as your middle finger rubbed circles on your clit. You were dripping wet so your fingers glide easily and the feeling makes your eyes close. 

It's a song and dance you are familiar with in the heated nights of your bedroom. Trying and failing to make yourself cum because you’ve read about it, it’s supposed to feel good, but you just can't get there. 

Tomura watches on, absently palming his erection and watching you touch yourself. As much as he wanted to reach down and help you out, there was something about seeing you whine and writhe in his bed that made his brain wild. 

You were getting close and you knew because there was that familiar sensation of heat pooling in your lower belly, it was a pressure that got more and more intense as you chased after it, but every time, your hands would get tired and you would lose it. And with the momentum gone, you lose the orgasm. 

Your furrowed brows went from aroused to frustrated within the span of a second as, once again you’ve unintentionally denied yourself release. 

“Fuck,” Tomura breaths, hand now fully in his sweat pants as his breathing picks up, “you were close.”

“I know!” You whine, unsure what to do now, but Tomura has a few things in mind. He pulls his hand from his pants, not wanting to ruin his own orgasm and hooks his fingers on both sides of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them to the side. 

You were fully exposed and the only thing keeping you from pressing your thighs together and holding your dignity close was Tomura between them. 

You wish he wouldn’t look so much, but he does, drinking up the sight of your exposed cunt and licking his lips. You’re about to call him out of it before he dips back down, capturing your lips in his and it distracts you. 

It distracts you so well that the press of his thumb over your slick nub makes you cry out, the pleasure sudden and better than you imagined. Tomura devours your moans, rubbing slow circles onto your clit and easily picking up where you left off. Your hands find purchase on his back and your toes curl at the sensation. 

He had just started, but it was just right and you couldn’t stop yourself from arching your back, desperate for more and overwhelmed by the stimulation. 

“T-tomu..” You moan as you feel the horizon of warmth again and bury your face into his neck.

“Yeah,” his lips are by your ear again and you close your eyes, fully focusing on the feeling of his thumb working your clit and his low voice in your ear, “Just let go for me.”

And it all hits you, pussy pulsing in pleasure as you come undone, your cries muffled by your face in his shoulder. It feels like the end of a long marathon as the bliss spreads through your body like a warm blanket. 

You could only lie there as Tomura pulled away, kissing your sternum and all the way down until he was at eye level with your cunt. The action confuses you because he had just made you cum so why was he..? 

“What are you doing?” You ask, confusion muting the buzz in your head. 

His eyes meet yours, mischievous glint in them sending the butterflies in your stomach wild. “We’re not done yet.” 

And before you could question the man further he dips down, warm and wet tongue meeting your slit and diving into your slick entrance. The action makes you jolt, keening at the sensation and thighs reflexively closing against Tomura’s head. This action only spurred him on further as he lapped and dipped his deceptively long tongue in and out of your wet entrance, sticky slick walls clamping down on him as he sloppily ate you out. 

He was relentless as he drove your pleasure up the wall — blowing your previous orgasm out of the water with this new sensation. 

“Fuck, tomu — fuck its..!” You can’t form a coherent sentence because the pleasure was only building and building, giving your brain no time to catch up with your words. Your hands immediately found purchase in his hair, the soft ashen locks grounding you as he continued his actions, unbothered by your tight grip. 

Tomura decided to move up, licking his way from your hole to your clit, the overstimulated bud was next on tomura’s list as he lapped and kissed your bundle of nerves. 

The actions make you cry out, mind muddled as your body tries to figure out if you want to be closer or further away from the sensations. You don't have much time to reach a conclusion either as Tomura sucks your clit and your second orgasm of the night quickly builds up and spills over, making your back arch from the bed and your legs shake in pleasure. 

It feels like your mind is completely blank as tomura gives your cunt a final lap and your clit one last kiss before returning to meet your eyes again. 

You were face to face now and watching him grin down at you, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that you had made a deal with the devil himself as your mind swam in the pleasure radiating throughout your body. It all felt surreal, and your eyes naturally closed, enjoying the feeling of your second climax. 

“Aw, don’t tap out on me now, I haven’t even given you the final boss yet,” you hear Tomura coo, finally moving to remove his sweatpants and boxers and oh— 

You watch his cock bob between his legs and panic internally as you wonder how the hell that would fit inside of you. 

It’s like Tomura could read your mind, because his laugh brings you back to the present, “don't worry about it, promise it’ll fit.” 

You don't know if you should trust him on that, but you do — mentally preparing yourself as Tomura leans over you and into the drawer of his bedside nightstand. He pulls out a square foiled packet and it’s in that moment you realize – no, he was not a virgin and only humoring you. 

You don't have much time to dwell on it though because in no time he has the condom on and is lining himself up with your entrance. 

The nerves are making themselves known as the reality of your situation starts to set in. The thoughts don’t flood your mind for long because Tomura takes your chin in his hand, demanding your undivided attention as he slowly pressed into your cunt. 

The pressure of the stretch makes you whimper and your eyes reflexively close, but he was only getting started. It was the somewhat soothing feeling of Tomura’s thumb stroking your cheek that kept you grounded and able to withstand more of the stretch. 

Little by little, Tomura pushed on, guiding you with his words and reassuring you that it wouldn’t hurt for long. He was right up against your ear, the familiar smell of his shampoo bringing you comfort as your bodies intertwined. 

“That it,” he guided, voice low and hips still as he bottomed out. You felt so full. It was a sensation you’ve never imagined and could only whine as tomura started to pull back. “I’m gonna move now.” 

Even though the pain was there in the initial thrusts, there was also the feeling of dull pleasure, slowly growing and growing until the previous pain had all but gone away and now you were floating in ecstasy as Tomura’s thrusts began to speed up.

You gripped at his forearms as he gained momentum, hips rocking into yours and making you moan.

“You like that?” he husked, lips brushing your throat as his hips snapped forward and hit a particularly sensitive spot inside. 

“F-fuck, again, do that again,” you cry and Tomura focuses his attention right where you want him to. The feeling is euphoric as you feel a different kind of coil tightening in your lower abdomen. A feeling that makes your toes curl and your thighs tense and it's hit again and again. 

Tomura lets out a low groan, his own pace becoming unsteady as time went on. “You’re so tight..” he murmured, reveling in the feeling of your slick walls clamping down on him, “‘s like you’re sucking me in.” 

You’re nearing the end again, you can feel it, but you don't want to be. This all felt so good. “Tomu, I-I’m—”

Tomura cuts you off, pulling away to look you in the eyes, his ruby red gaze was hypnotizing. “Just let go, I’ve got you.” 

And you do, that’s all it takes for you to tip over — mind rushing in bliss as your heart fluttered at his words. 

You felt this orgasm deep in your bones, the overwhelming feeling of clarity and contentment settling within you as you were now along for the ride, enjoying Tomura’s increasing erratic pace while he chased his own orgasm. 

“Oh, fuck—” he pants, following behind you with his own climax. His eyes were squeezed shut as he rode it out, slowing to a stop and dropping his head onto your shoulder. 

The heavy breaths between you were the only sounds in the room as you stare at his ceiling — noticing the faded out green stars above. So faint you were sure they had been placed there years and years ago. It brings a warmth to your chest, something new among your many new feelings you’ve felt today. 

“Next weekend,” Tomura starts, still sounding a bit winded as he pulls out — and you wince at the soreness, the pain not really something you were prepared for — and lays next to you, “Next weekend we’ll rematch in Mario kart. I’ll help you get better.”

You smile, the buzzing excitement making you flush, “Okay, let’s do it.”

The next morning is one that leaves you with a forming pit in your belly. It is a Sunday morning, and Sundays are the day’s your family loves to enjoy a homemade breakfast and sit together at the table like a loving family. 

And they were loving! Loving and observant.

You felt as if your parents knew. Like they knew where you had been yesterday — somehow seeing through your foolproof lie of hanging out with an old school friend, but things were quiet. 

Everything on this Sunday morning had been proceeding as normal. Your parents were sitting across from you, none the wiser and laughing about a show they watched last night while you were out. 

It did not feel real. It felt like there was something you were missing, as if they were omnipotent and knew your every move. Knew that you were no longer their shining star child, that you had been up to things that were everything but innocent. 

You feel the same, physically. Maybe a little sore from how rough Tomura had gotten, but other than that, normal.

“Sweetheart,” your father’s voice calls you, cutting through your paranoia, “could you pass me the syrup, please.”

And you do, maybe with too much haste, but he does not comment on it. Instead he just pours the sugary liquid onto his pancakes and continues. “So your mother and I were thinking,”

Oh, god. They knew.

“We know you’re taking a semester off, but if you aren't happy with that college, we could look into other’s for you.”

Your shoulders relax. It’s just college talk, again. That was talk you could handle. 

“Um, yeah. That’s okay with me. I could always use more options.”

Your father smiles, “That’s our girl. Always so flexible with her options. We know it takes a lot of strength to take a break, but you did. We’re so proud of you.” 

The smile that graces your face is pitiful and filled with guilt that you prayed was not obvious. They really saw the best in you, no matter how suffocating they were. so it’s only right you follow the path that they lay out for you. 

“Our girl could never do any wrong,” your mother chimes in, chipper and full of admiration, “you’re just so smart.”

You only nod, now trying to tune them out as they go back and forth, discussing possible college they believed would be best for you. 

It really makes you wonder just how far that love and pride stretched when their angel of a daughter strays against what they expect of you.

—-------------------------

And not even six months later that same love and adoration is tested, put on the line and shown bare as your enraged parents look down at you. 

The same parents who doted on you about how much you made them smile. You who had made them so proud and apparently brought them so much joy. 

It’s suffocating as you sit right back on the very same couch where it all started, listening to a lecture from your mother about the woes and pains of having such a disobedient unruly child. 

Even though you’re an adult. 

Even though you can make your own decisions about your life. 

It’s maddening having to listen to your once so meek and complacent mother go on and on about how she would have never snuck around with some boy she’s only known for a few months. How she would never lie to her parents about her whereabouts and how it’s just unheard of that you would turn your location off. 

You shake your head, they wouldn’t understand. Your father wouldn’t even look at you. “Mom, please..” you start, wanting to offer anything to break up the nonstop lecture. 

“I just don’t understand!” Her voice is so high it’s nearly a yell, and your mother makes it a point to never yell. “He’s just a man! Why would you put yourself and your future at risk for some guy?”

“He’s not just some guy.” You mumble and curse yourself for trying, they would never see it your way. 

There is a buzz from the phone in your pocket and you habitually grab for it, pulling it from its place and you are not given a chance to check the notification before your mother snatches the device from your hand. 

“And no phone! This damn phone is the root of all your problems in the first place.”

Disbelief mars your features as the constant drilling catches up with you. “You can’t do that!”

She only folds her arms across her chest, head tilted in challenge, “I can’t? Watch me. You’re lucky we haven’t put you on the street yet with how irresponsible you’ve been.” 

It’s hard to understand what’s so irresponsible about taking birth control and practicing being safe. But you knew it was deeper than that. It was deeper than the boy and it was more than sex. 

They hated the lack of control they had over you and how it waned with every passing day.

“So, what, was this guy supposed to be the love of your life? Someone you would just run away with and expect to support you?”

Your mother’s voice grates on your ears and you just wish for this conversation to be over, you want this entire thing to be over and done with. “I don’t know. Maybe.” The defeat is evident in your voice and you shrug. “Can I go now?” 

They are beating a dead horse at this point and you’re over it. 

To your surprise, no one stops you as you rise, allowing you to take your leave before the tears clouding your vision could fall. 

The defeat you feel is deep and you can’t even muster the energy to slam your door shut, opting for a quieter close. The fragile click of your door was so soft and it felt as if you were made of glass. To slam the door would only make you shatter into a million pieces onto your bedroom floor. 

How foolish of you to think there could ever be a world where you had autonomy in a house filled with hawks. 

Your bed greets you with its cozy warmth and you allow yourself to fall apart there, letting out all of your despair and frustration into your pillow and leaving the pieces of your soul to be picked up in the morning. 

It’s been a week. 

A long, boring, drawn-out week. 

You are without your phone, without wifi and without your parents car — so you couldn’t go anywhere if you tried. 

It’s been a long week of nothing, not even from Tomura. You assume he can put two and two together and figure out something has gone wrong. The thought brings you a little peace, but not for long. 

You barely leave your room and barely say two words to your parents. The isolation is… lonely. 

Even if you went out to the living room to watch television, you run the risk of running into one of your parents — and you can really do without another lecture. The only thing on your mind this past week has been Tomura. What was he doing? Did he pick up on your silence? Last time he showed up at your house, but that’s not happening this time around. 

You sit up from your bed, realizing that sitting around rotting away would drive you mad, and look to your window. The sun was setting and dusting the rest of the world in pretty orange and pink hues. It would be nightfall soon, and you don't think you could spend another night in this room, alone. 

So, against all better judgment, you open your window, look back to listen for any suspicious footsteps — the lack thereof giving you the greenlight — and climb out of your window, stumbling on to the ground as you try to regain your footing from the drop.

You weren't sure where your feet were taking you, but you didn't care, the feeling of fresh air against your cheeks was all you really needed for a clear head.

Your feet lead you to the mall, the start of all your problems and the beginning of your independence. 

It felt strange, seeing all kinds of happy faces throughout the mall. Blissfully unaware of their freedoms and enjoying their night. The jarring feeling pushes your feet to the familiar route, flashing colors and blaring music of the arcade greeting you. 

It’s comforting, in a way. But you didn’t bring any money. You didn't bring anything but what you were wearing so you could only look around, watching friends and couples alike laugh together. 

There's an area near the back of the arcade with tall barstools and empty tables. You decide to take a seat there and sulk on your own. At least you were no longer trapped in your room, forced to watch your four walls while the days passed you by.

You were in a daze, tracing the brown lines on the wooden table with your eyes, until someone interrupted you by sitting right next to you. You turn to face the culprit, less than friendly words on your tongue and ready to let whoever have a piece of your mind. 

But you stop in your tracks as ruby red eyes look down at you. 

Tomura. 

He was here, next to you and your heart fluttered at the realization. 

“What’s your problem?” He joked, rasp in his voice comforting to your ears. 

You don’t stop yourself from pulling him into a hug, his black hoodie soft and familiar. “How did you know I was here?” You mumble into the fabric and miraculously Tomura understands you.

“I didn’t.” The admission causes you to pull back, looking up at him through your long lashes. “None of my calls or texts went through, and I tried to stop by but your dad was suspiciously outside.” He brings a hand to your head, brushing your hair back and giving you a small smile. “I still like coming here, so I did. Something to pass the time. Ironically, I saw you walk by. 

You hum, fighting the pout that wanted to make its way onto your face. “They took my phone. They took everything, even the birth control pills. I can’t keep living like this, Tomura.”

“I know.” He responds, soothing your nerves even with his presence. “I can get you another phone.”

The suggestion only makes you shake your head, it doesn’t tackle the real underlying issue. 

“It doesn’t matter. It’s only a matter of time before they find that too. We’ve seen that they aren’t above going through my things. It’s hell. I can’t do it anymore.”

This seems to make Tomura ponder, taking your words in and running them through his mind for a solution. His expression is fixed when he looks back at you. 

“Then don’t.”

“What?” 

“Don’t go back home.” He elaborates, “Come stay with me. My place is big enough, it shouldn’t matter.”

You are shaking your head before you realize, pulling away from him with a stern look. “No, no I can't do that. I can’t impose on you like that.”

Tomura gives you a halfhearted glare. “It’s not imposing if I'm offering. They’re assholes, and I'm usually home alone anyway. Well, besides Kurogiri.” He leans in, pressing his forehead to yours, “C’mon, just go home tonight, pack a bag and then meet me here tomorrow. Can you do that?” 

There was no other option you would want more so you nod, giving a short okay as Tomura presses his lips to yours. 

It's set — by this time tomorrow you will be free.

[ellecdc]

Hiii, so i got really excited about all the new ships and i wondering if i could request a poly!prongsfoot x female reader where maybe the reader completely matches their energy and its like a college au and the boys bring reader to meet all their friends for the first time and everybody is like… woah… now theres 3 of them. Just some super energetic cutesy fluff if you dont mind, thank you for considering this i really appreciate it!!! Hope your doing amazing🫶🏻

omg so I saw a post the other day and there's another ship name for Sirius x James = starbucks!! How cute? Thanks for your request and your patience - it took me some time to flush this out (I think any new ships likely will take me longer!)

poly!prongsfoot x fem!reader who's just like them

Remus doesn’t think he’s ever seen his two best friends as excited as they currently were, sitting and waiting (rather impatiently) for your arrival. 

Peter, Mary, and Lily were sitting on the booth against the wall, with Remus and Regulus sat together to the right of them, with Sirius and James to their right.

Sirius and James had been talking about this ‘perfect girl’ they met in their psych 101 class last semester, likely since the very day they met you if Remus assumed correctly. 

“She’s so pretty, Moons! I’ve never seen eyes as beautiful as hers.”

“She’s so funny! You should have heard her snarking the frat boys behind us in yesterday’s lecture.”

“She’s brilliant! She helped us study and I got 88% on our last exam!”

And now, a whole semester and a half later, they’d finally convinced you to meet their friends.

Lord knows how two of the most hyperactive and mischievous people Remus has ever had the pleasure of knowing managed to trick another person to put up with them voluntarily, but he did really like seeing them so happy and excited in life; both so deserving for different reasons. 

James deserved all the love that he so openly and willingly shared with others, and Sirius had worked so hard to become the man he is and deserved to be celebrated for it.

So, if what made them happy was a cute girl from their intro to psychology course? Well, Remus couldn’t argue with them. 

“I can’t wait until she gets here; you’re all going to love her.” James declared, shifting closer to Sirius in his excitement who quickly threw his arm over his boyfriend’s shoulders. 

“So, don’t embarrass us, alright? We want to keep her around.” Sirius added, placing a chaste kiss to James' shoulder as James practically vibrated in his seat.

“I assure you, Sirius, you do not need our help embarrassing you.” Regulus drawled, not bothering to look up from the drink’s menu in his hand.

“Oi! You take that back!” Sirius barked as he flicked the menu up into Regulus’ face. 

Remus had to quickly grip his boyfriend’s shoulder to hold him in his seat as he looked like he was about to crawl over the table to strangle his brother.

“Easy, babe.” Remus commented teasingly, “I doubt Pete, Lily, or Mary will bother calling 999 if you kill him, but their new girl may not be as understanding.”

Sirius harrumphed earning him a conciliatory kiss from James as Pete and the girls just snickered. 

Regulus’ muttering was interrupted by a commotion at the door as a group sitting near the entrance cheered at a new arrival.

“Yay! Are you finally joining us for a pub night, Y/N?!” someone shouted, causing both James and Sirius’ head to snap to attention; Remus was sure if they were dogs, their tails would be wagging and their ears would have perked up. 

“God no! I wouldn’t dream of it!” You called back teasingly, pulling away from someone who had stood to give you a hug. 

“Foul!” The person called back as their friend group laughed.

“Next time!” You promised as you moved through the crowd, face lighting up somehow even brighter when you spotted James and Sirius.

James was up on his feet the second you made eye contact with him and he all but carried you over to the group.

“Hi angel! I’m so glad you could make it!” He cheered at you as he kissed your cheek. 

“Of course, Jamie. I was looking forward to it.” You responded as you beamed at Sirius who stood as well to give you a proper hug.

“Hiya, dollface! How was your day?” Sirius asked as he held you to his chest.

“Good! Good, I’m looking forward to a drink, though.” You laughed, shucking your jacket off which James was quick to take from you to hang it on the hook attached to the booth. 

“Everyone; this is Y/N! Y/N, that there is our best mate Remus, that’s his boyfriend and less importantly my brother Regulus,” Sirius introduced, causing Regulus to scowl and Remus to chuckle as he consolingly squeezed Regulus’ knee. “And that there is our other best mate Peter, and these beauties here are Lily and Mary.”

You enthusiastically exchanged handshakes with those you could reach and no less enthusiastic waves with those who you couldn’t.

“It’s so nice to meet you all! I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Which is concerning, considering you guys met in class?” Regulus commented, earning him a booming laugh from you.

“I was doing too well in that class anyways; it’s good to keep your GPA well rounded.” You responded in jest, gently nudging a furiously blushing James with your elbow as Sirius beamed at the two of you from your other side. 

As the group of you spoke, Remus noticed a number of people coming up to clap James or Sirius on the shoulders who knew them from their classes or various extracurriculars., though that wasn’t all that unusual when attending a pub night near campus. What Remus found to be quite phenomenal was how many people happened to come up to you to do the same.

Remus supposed it made sense for his two social and quite popular friends to find a kindred spirit, but he couldn’t believe that there were three of you who appeared to be so universally liked.

Well, Remus was sure some of Sirius’ notoriety was less from his likeability and more for his flirty nature. 

Mary had a lot of fun talking to you about her Instagram feed and your TikTok, which was full of videos of you, Sirius, and James doing trendy dances to various degrees of success. 

You were eager to discuss your latest reads with Remus, Regulus, and Lily, and you all laughed at the furious blush that took over Regulus’ face when the three of you started discussing the erotic books you’d enjoyed recently. 

“I mean, really; is that appropriate to be discussing in such a public setting?” Regulus had muttered as he looked over his shoulder to ensure other patrons hadn’t heard the scandalous books the three of you had read.

“Oh, don’t be such a prude, Reggie. I’ve seen the love bites you’ve left on my mate; you’re no saint.” Sirius had drawled, causing the blush to migrate all the way down Regulus’ neck.

You even joined in with some of Peter's quick-witted jests at the boys' expense.

In the end, it was the way you fell easily into the friendly banter with the group as if you’d been part of it all along that really won Remus over, had his friends’ lovesick smiles not already thoroughly convinced him of your worth. 

“I really like Y/N.” He commented to Regulus as he finished flossing his teeth that night. Regulus scoffed without lifting his head from the book he’d been reading already comfortable in bed.

“You would.”

Remus furrowed his brow as he turned the bathroom light off and climbed into bed.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“She’s exactly your type.”

Remus barked a laugh and pulled Regulus (quite rudely, if you’d asked Regulus) into his side, forcing him to lay the book flat on the bed lest he lose his place for good.

“I’d argue that’s not the case, seeing as you’re my type.” He murmured into his boyfriend’s neck.

Regulus rolled his eyes though his face betrayed the fondness he felt for Remus. “That’s not what I meant, tosser.”

“What’d you mean then?” He asked, trailing kisses along Regulus’ collarbone.

“I mean she’s bubbly, she’s bold and outgoing, she’s mischievous, and she seemed to put up with the lot of you quite well.”

Remus lifted his head to look at Regulus bemusedly.

“She’s a carbon copy of two of your best friends, she’s basically Sirius and James.” Regulus clarified, looking smug as Remus’ face fell in understand.

“Oh my God...” Remus whispered in horror. “There’s three of them.” 

[juuuulez]

mikey is such a cutie patootie!! i imagine that his family all really love you (and maybe pin too much hope on you to ‘save’ him) so at holidays everyone’s just so sweet to you. everyone knows they can joke or make snide comments at mikey, but god forbid anyone goes after you (uncle lee made the mistake of accusing you of drugs too. it’s a good thing donna totaled her car because otherwise lee would be fucked up)

and idk mikey can be so sweet i know he can!! you’re kind of the pete to his sugar in a way

literally agree like he just needs HIS person and he would be so proud to show you off

a berzatto christmas is chaotic but you’ll quickly learn how to handle that energy, knowing it’s just common for them. everyone (or at least most of them) treat you well, and sometimes you’re even enough to diffuse the tensest of situations.

“hey! your hookers here!” uncle lee will shout when you walk through the door, not so much an announcement to mikey as it is to the room, something to gain a reaction. thankfully he isn’t around right now, for that would be the beat-down of the century.

you offer lee a thin smile, knowing by this point not to engage. “merry christmas to you, too.”

the house is warm and alive with energy, everyone you pass throwing a greeting your way. natalie stops you for a hug, her hands smoothing down your dress and making a comment about how nice it looks, but “aren’t you cold, sweetheart? did you drive here? we’ll get you a coat for later, okay?”

on the way to the kitchen, you have to physically evade richie’s hand coming to mess with your hair. it’s been perfectly done up for the occasion and his big hand serves as an obstacle, wanting to ruffle it like usual.

you huff and swat his arm away, ducking quickly through the door and missing the glare it earns him from tiff.

finally, you make it into the kitchen. it’s disorganised and messy, pots overflowing, spoons left on the counter. carmy is trying to reign in the situation, in his own silent way, not wanting to cause any additional tension.

“hey, d.” you greet donna from behind, who was too caught up in whatever to notice your arrival. she turns around with an exasperated noise, both her hands finding your shoulders before moving to your cheeks.

“how are you?” she asks, but is talking before you can get a response in. “i was reading this magazine, and there was this model, and i swear, it looked— hey! hands off!”

whatever tangent donna was on is interrupted as carmy goes to stir a pot, to which she bats his hands away, going on about its contents and how it needs to simmer.

“it smells good in here!” you chirp, a smile on your face as you open the fridge.

“wine,” donna continues, “did you want some wine? here, sweetheart. let me pour you a glass.”

“no, no, i’m okay!” you quickly interject, already having found a cold bottle from the fridge. “beer is good, beer will be fine.”

she makes an offhanded comment about needing to “treat yourself to something nice” and not drinking “cheap garbage.” meanwhile, donna continues pouring the aforementioned glass, only to sip from it herself while she cooks.

you take about three gulps of the beverage before footsteps bring another presence to attention. it’s always easy to hear mikey before seeing him, for he’s often already yelling to you from the other room. this time it’s a call of your name, loud and warm, so you flutter closer to the doorway to meet him.

“hey,” you greet with a smile, hands reaching for the fabric of his sweater while his find your hips. “you look good. like this colour on you.”

“says you,” mikey will quip back. “this fuckin’ dress on you, jesus. tryna’ kill a man, huh?”

it gets a giggle out of you, cheeks flushing red at the blatant compliments despite the others in the room. it was something you were still adjusting to: showing love so casually and shamelessly no matter the circumstances, like it was the only thing that mattered.

“merry christmas, bear.” you coo, pressing a kiss to his stubbled cheek.

it earns a squeeze of your hips, mikey moving to kiss back. “merry christmas, baby.”

“can you guys please fuckin’ move.” carmy snaps suddenly.

the peace is again broken, with donna scolding him and going on and on about something you pay no mind to. it onto causes carmy to heat up further, complaining about how you’re both in the way in that usual overwhelmed sense.

mikey doesn’t help, chiming in with his own remark. “oh, is our affection ruining your flow? you know what your problem is, you gotta chill out. it’s christmas, and you’re fuckin’ wound up—”

“okay, okay. we will move. let carmy have his peace.” you interrupt him, trying to save the conversation by giving mikey a little push to usher him out of the kitchen. it works, thankfully, for the second that he spots richie he’s going on again about some other story you’re sure you’ve already heard, but is somehow relevant right now.

[thewulf]

Top Gun Masterlist

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Fluff: ✿‎ ‎

Angst: ✦‎

Hurt/Comfort: ‎♡

Top Gun Maverick

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Who are You? | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ✿

That's a Kill | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 ✿✦‎

Cross ✿✦

Crash and Burn ♡

Sweet Boy ✿‎ ‎

Wild Child ✿‎

Thick and Thin | Part 1 | Part 2 ♡✿‎✦

Commander ✿‎

Just Keep Swimming ♡✿‎ ‎✦

Good News | Part 1 | Part 2 ✿‎

Iris ♡✿‎✦

Absolutely Gorgeous ✿‎

Fool✿✦‎

Strongly Dislike You✿‎

Flatter Me✿‎

I Missed You✿✦

Angel✿‎

Bit Sharky✿‎

Gorgeous✿✦

Cowboy✿‎

Olive Boy✿‎

May I Kiss You?♡✿‎

Thank God For You✿‎

I'm All In Darlin'✿‎

I Got You♡✿‎

If You Insist✿‎

Annoyed✿✦

It's Everything✿‎

A Little Jealous✿✦

Oh, Honey ✿✦‎

It Matters✿‎

Not Just Pals✿‎

Lost and Found✿✦

Whispers in the Night✿✦

Loving You is Easy✿‎

Easy Skies✿‎

Wingman's Gambit✿‎

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw

What a Look on You ✿✦‎

I Think I Love You✿‎

Not So Subtle✿‎

Time is a Gift♡✿✦‎

Bumblebee✿✦‎

My Whole Heart✿‎

It Takes Time✿✦‎

Like Me, Maybe Love Me?✿‎

I Miss You✿✦‎

My Treasure✿✦‎

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Authority Thing✿✦‎

Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia

Skies of Concern✿✦‎

Top Gun (1986)

Nick "Goose" Bradshaw

Silly Goose✿✦‎

Pete "Maverick" Mitchell

Take a Risk✿✦‎

Downright Gorgeous✿✦‎

Tom "Iceman" Kazansky

My Girl✿✦‎

[ma1dita]

no hard feelings

this was a request! find it here

words: 5k (CHRIST)

summary: How can you be in love with someone you barely know? Feelings are hard. James potter x fem!reader

warnings: none! Angsty, tumultuous feelings, insecure!reader, teenage awkwardness, consensual veritaserum dosing, tiptoeing around feelings, headboy!james

a/n: why is james always so easy to write for… hope yall like this one!! I miss having a crush lol

(posted 12/14/23)

—-

“You’re staring again…” Dorcas drones next to you one day in Potions class. Your ears are barely listening to Professor Slughorn drone on about the magical properties and proper use of Veritaserum but your eyes are most definitely focused on James Potter, as they always are. It’s kind of hard to not notice him when his energy breaks through every room he walks into.

“Can’t help it. He’s doing that thing again…” You mutter, leaning against your arm as Dorcas flips through the pages of the textbook. Air escapes you in a puff of exasperation and your quill thumps against the desk in a tiny rhythm. The truth serum you both have been brewing for the past month was steadily bubbling in your shared cauldron, colorless and almost complete, if it weren’t for your usual distraction in the form of Hogwarts’ most eligible bachelor.

“Him being a nuisance?” She smiles at you crookedly, looking at the soft gaze in your eyes.

“Him existing. How dreadful for me.” You say simply before turning back to the task at hand.

There’s something about James Potter that captivates the female gaze. All of Hogwarts knew, hell, he did too. Whatever it was, it’s starting to get annoying. Your eyes flicker back to him, hair swishing as your head shakes in contemplation. Dorcas grins at your predicament, this not being a new topic between the both of you.

James glances at you from his desk at the back of the room, fingers brushing the metal frame of his glasses as he catches you looking at him again, and he smiles boyishly when he sees your eyes dart elsewhere. Compared to other girls’ ostentatious efforts to grab his attention, you’d always been more reserved and standing a distance away. And despite your mutual friends, you both had never really had a proper conversation. Not alone at least. So yes, you may have an insanely big crush on the most popular guy at Hogwarts, but it didn’t mean he’d have to hear it from you. That would involve…having to actually find time to talk to him, which proved to be difficult with every girl that spent their free time batting their eyelashes at him, sending him declarations of feelings in the post, or falling over in front of him to ask him on dates. Slightly pathetic, but you admired their bravery. Silence was your own death sentence, and perhaps it was more suave in your mind. The cool girl who was anything but. Godric, why are feelings so annoying…

Your heart rate stays elevated through the rest of class, and as you pack your things, you rush to put your stuff in your knapsack, digging through the leather to find a hair ribbon. The distraction impairs your vision and your foot slips on a leather strap. Your body runs right into a solid wall of muscle, sending you into James’s seated frame, and both of you sprawling across the classroom floor.

“Wotcher, love,” Sirius laughs as he sees the blush rise to your cheeks. James daintily grasps your waist as you’ve landed bent over onto his lap, feet tangled in the fallen chair.

“I am so sorry…” You blubber, hair in your face as you scramble to lift off of him. Both you and James kneel on the floor picking both your belongings up, and you feel like the Earth could swallow you whole right now with everyone staring at you.

“Looking completely stupid is what. Pete, you have to stop putting your bag in the aisle! I could’ve killed Potter!”

Peter blushes as he nudges his bag with his foot, and James hands you back your things, both of your hands touching as you figure out who belongs to what. Your hand fumbles over a clear vial of Veritaserum he definitely wasn't supposed to take home, and your eyes meet James’ with a tilt of the head. His grin screams mischief, biting his lip, and taking the glass from between your fingers with a wink. I won’t tell if you won’t, his gaze says.

“Not a problem, darling. Anyone would be honored to be trampled by a pretty lady,” he says finally, dusting off his pants and offering you a hand to stand up. You scoff, taking it and not meeting his eyes in embarrassment. Remus lifts the chair that toppled over, handing you the hair ribbon you spent so long finding.

“Thanks, Rem. See you all later at the party?” Bobbing heads follow you out of the classroom where you are quickly bombarded by a gaggle of girls calling you lucky for bumping into James.

“You’re so smart for falling on him like that…” “He seems so strong picking you up so easily…” “Did he smell nice today? He always smells nice…”

All of the chattering voices make you laugh at these mere acquaintances who don’t care as much for you as they do for the boy standing in the doorway with his friends.

“Off to class now, ladies.” James reminds them, his Head Boy badge gleaming against the sunlight in the corridor. They scatter, leaving hushed compliments and giggles in his direction. But you don’t look at him at all, tying your hair back almost methodically. His eyes fall upon the slope of your neck, and he’s got that look in his eye…

“What, James?” Remus asks inquisitively, all four boys looking at you as you walk off down the hall.

“How come she barely talks to me?” he ponders, shoving his jumper over his elbows, and Sirius slings an arm over his best friend as he laughs.

“All the attention you get, and you’re still greedy, huh?”

“Not that, she talks to all of you so easily, and then she goes and calls me Potter like we aren’t friends…” he says, swiveling to look at his boys, walking backward to see their reactions. Well, he didn’t expect them to laugh that hard.

“Are you though? She’s our friend, we hang out with her… Have you ever had a real conversation between the two of you?” Pete points out, scratching the back of his neck.

“Suppose not…”

“Suppose you should… She’s really nice. Pretty funny too.” Remus pipes up.

James thinks back, and regrettably, he can’t remember much about you, always a wallflower in his periphery. He hasn’t made much of an effort to get to know you since you started being around the gang. Maybe that should change.

“She’s stunning, if I’m honest, boys. Way less forward than the other birds…”

“I can see an idea forming in your head James Potter, don’t even start…” Remus says, book in hand ready to hit him across the chest. Sirius and Peter laugh, starting to run around the two, and everything stops once the sandy-haired boy blurts, “Word out is that she majorly fancies you, Prongs…Maybe you should go for it!”

James stops in his tracks, bumping into a marble column as they round the corner. How can you like him if you don’t know him…and he doesn’t know anything about you?

“Highly unlikely, Worms. She doesn’t even call me by my first name…” The new predicament of this admission rises to the forefront of James' mind, and it’s all he can think about for the rest of the day, through the rest of class, and Quidditch practice, up until he gets ready for the party at Gryffindor Tower.

—

You’re getting ready with the girls, hands brushing over microscopic lint on your silk top, and you’re quite unsure of why there’s a nerve-wracking feeling overtaking your body.

“You look lovely, babe,” Alice says as she admires you from Marlene’s bed, legs hanging off the side.

“I need a drink,” you laugh, looking at the girls through the mirror, and Mary tosses you a shooter of firewhiskey to ease the nerves. The door swings open and Lily walks in, looking almost sternly at the lot of you.

“How are you all still up here? Everyone looks beautiful, now let’s all get drunk! Godric knows we need it after this week we’ve had…”

The girls walk down the stairs to the common room, you following slowly as your eyes meet the crowd of students all partaking in the grand celebration of nothing. Merlin, you love this school. Cracking the bottle open, you toss your head back as you take the shot, and then Sirius is swinging you around onto the dancefloor as you try not to gag. The party is in full swing—students dancing on the tables, drinks flowing, and music playing as loud as possible that you wonder how McGonagall won’t shut this down by midnight.

James tries to find a moment to talk to you all night, but he can’t seem to get an edge in. Were you always this popular? You were always dancing with someone else, or talking to a friend, and it’s also distracting to have girls trying to chat with him about who-knows-what, and he almost gets frustrated at the fact he’s unable to catch your eye.

“James, do you think I look pretty in this dress?” a hand grazes his bicep, and he remembers he’s in the middle of a conversation with… Flora? Frannie?

“Mhmm,” he mutters noncommittally, eyes searching the crowd for where he last saw you, watching you walk out towards the balcony.

“Sorry Fizz, gotta go find someone!” He skirts around the girl who yells, “It’s Faith!” almost indignantly, and James shakes his head as he weaves through the sea of drunk people to reach you before you get away again.

You stand on the balcony, alone. The party hums on behind you, through the open doors, but all of it feels miles away. You take a deep, steadying breath into your chest as you stare out into the field. The quiet serenity of the night and the alcohol is giving you a head rush, making you dizzy and lightheaded, but you feel your pulse beating like a drum as your hands are steady on the railing.

Sudden footsteps break the silence, and you turn to find that James is standing right behind you. He places his hands near yours as he steps closer, staring out into the night as well.

"Leaving so soon?" he asks as he slides up beside you.

"Just needed some air," you reply, looking towards the dancing masses spilling out onto the stairs and tables behind the glass.

"What’s a Gryffindor gathering without its resident life of the party?" he teases, leaning on the railing and smiling cheekily at you.

“Says you…” Your eyebrow quirks at his boldness. You don’t think you two have ever even been at a table alone, much less out here on the balcony by yourselves.

James is leaning close to you, still gazing up at the night sky. You can feel the warmth of his breath on your neck, and you suddenly have a strange urge to turn to him, to look him in the eye and tell him how badly you wish to have a proper conversation with him. For him to know you like you know him.

His voice pulls you out of your thoughts, a sly grin on his face. James raises an eyebrow, almost as if he's reading your mind.

"Can you keep a secret?" His voice is like cinnamon, sweet with an edge.

“If it’s about the Veritaserum, I didn’t see anything….” you joke, throwing your head back.

His eyes flash with amusement as he smiles at you, his eyes gleaming in the moonlight.

"Maybe you should look up at me for a minute." You turn to look at him, and your heart flutters at his words.

"I want to ask you something," he whispers, his face close to yours. You're not sure why he's whispering - there’s no one else out here, but you don't mind.

"What?" you ask. James grins at you, and you can't help but grin back. He pauses, biting his lip to hold in his laugh, and then he leans in closer, his face so close you can count his lashes, curly hair falling softly against your temple.

"Are we friends?" he asks, and the hilarity of it makes you scoff, but the smile on your face lets him know it’s not unkind.

"Maybe, but not really. You've always been out of reach for me, Potter."

"Do you wish we were?" He seems genuine in this moment, hazel eyes staring into yours as if he's trying to see into your soul. He's always been popular, and he knows girls fawn over him, but he's never spoken to you this way before. Perhaps his bravery only goes so far when he’s with you.

"I would love for us to be friends," you say quietly, unsure of his intentions. "I'm so awkward around you, I just... have a hard time saying what I want to say. It always feels like I'm going to say something stupid." You blush as you admit this, but you force yourself to meet his eyes.

James gives you a light, charming laugh, and you're left speechless as your words fade away. His eyes are so intense, and the way his jaw sits firm just makes you want to melt into a puddle at his feet. You stay still for a moment, your heart racing, waiting for him to say something, do something you know you don’t have the guts for.

"What if we tried..." he pauses as if he's thinking it through himself.

"Just being completely honest with each other? For the rest of the night?" he asks, his fingers pulling a familiar stolen vial out of his pocket.

"For the rest of the night?" you ask, your voice slightly shaky. "I... I don't know if I can..."

He tips a few drops of Veritaserum into both of your drinks.

"Bottoms up." He downs his cup in one go.

Your eyes meet his in shock, your lips slightly parted as you take in the realization that you'll finally get the truth out of him. But in the adrenaline that courses through your veins, you don't stop to think that this will affect you too. He can see how nervous you are, and he winks at you, and his voice drops to a whisper.

"Trust me," he urges, and it's impossible to deny his request with a smile like that.

“You’re crazy,” you mumble, but you take a heavy sip of the Veritaserium-laced drink anyway, and every single word that's on your mind attempts to escape, the air around the two of you feeling charged with blind confidence.

"We're playing a dangerous game here, Potter. Too bad I've had enough to drink to care."

You laugh at that, and he chuckles along with you. The alcohol seems to make the Veritaserum work even faster, and it's not as if it tastes bad. In fact, it's rather delicious. Addicting.

"You're right," he replies, laughing so much that he has to hold his sides. The mirthful grin that curls into your lips is only increased as you take in the scene before you. "So. What do you want to know?" he asks. He puts his hand on your waist, fingers grazing your belt loop and you feel your blood rush to your face.

“Do you still like Lily? And if not, do the girls chasing you around school get annoying?”

"Honestly, I'm not sure," he answers you with such seriousness that it makes you grin toothily. This is dangerous.

"I used to like her... a lot." The admission makes you lean in until you can hear his breathing.

"I've never felt anything like that towards anyone else, but I could. I might already." he continues, his voice so low, almost sultry, that your pupils dilate. Watch yourself. You're so taken with the way he looks at you, so focused, that you wonder if it’s really him or the alcohol.

“Ask me something, Potter. It’s only fair.”

James looks down at you with a mischievous smile. "Let's start with the big one, then... what are your intentions with me? Little mouse told me you have a crush."

He says it almost in a whisper as if it's a dangerous question, and you can feel his breath on your lips as he waits for your response. It is dangerous. The way he words it makes you laugh, but instantly, your deepest thoughts come tumbling out of your mouth. This was definitely a terrible idea….

“I genuinely think I’m in love with you,” you admit to him, unable to hide the slight quiver in your voice.

“But you barely know me, so you probably think I’m crazy,” you blurt out, hand slapping over your mouth.

"And I've wanted to be near you since the first moment I ever saw you. Something about you is... so..." You trail off, suddenly shy with your words, but you can feel his eyes on you as he waits for the rest of your answer.

"It's silly," you say, not wanting to admit the true reason you want him.

James grins at you and his nose brushes your cheek, the scent of his aftershave making you weak. He could be extra mean right now, coaxing the rest of the truth out of you with a single word, but the embarrassment that wrestles in your being is enough for the next few lifetimes.

"It's okay," he whispers and places a hand gently on your cheek, his fingers brushing against your skin.

"Maybe things will be different now that I know."

He stares at your lips and then suddenly asks, "Do you want to kiss?" His voice is soft as silk, and you can't believe that you've heard right. What the hell just happened?

“Um, no. Sorry.” The door cracks open with Sirius peeking out to see the two of you, but you push past him back into the party. James is left dumbfounded by your rejection, feeling like he got caught in a riptide as he drowns in embarrassment.

His eyes are wide as you hurry out the door, and you don't even turn back to look at James - instead, you're so preoccupied with getting away from him and back to your dorm that you almost run into Dorcas, who offers you a curious look as you dump out the rest of your drink in a potted plant.

“What happened, Prongs? You scare her away?” Sirius says with raised eyebrows as he looks at James standing stupidly at the edge in the dark.

“Actually, she’s in love with me and she just rejected me. And I’m on truth serum for the next few hours, and I can't figure out how I fucked up.”

James has a habit of putting his foot in his mouth when he’s left alone, and usually he’s aware of it. But even with the Veritaserum, he can’t figure out for the life of him why you ran away, no matter how many times the boys rephrase the question to him.

—-

You avoid him like the plague in the days after.

As much as you've wanted to pretend that the experience with James with just a figment of your imagination brought on by the amount of alcohol you drank, you can't help but feel utterly mortified around James. You keep your distance, only leaving your room when you absolutely have to, running out of classes you share like you’re being timed.

As the truth serum left your body that night, you’ve become increasingly sure of how you feel about James - even more so than before. It was the first time you’ve ever said you’re in love, and how can you be in love if you didn’t know it yourself before the fact! You're absolutely terrified of looking crazy like that again, of being vulnerable. Even as you try to keep your distance from him, he's literally everywhere, which only makes things worse for your emotions.

It's late in the evening and you're finally mustering up the courage to leave your room and make your way to the kitchens to grab a midnight snack.

As you turn the corner, you stop in your tracks to see James leaning against the wall, his eyes closed as he seems to be enjoying the peace and quiet. The dim lighting of the passageway casts shadows over his features and makes you wonder if he can see you at all. Your heart races and you feel as if you're back on the balcony all over again.

His eyes pop open, almost as if he was waiting for you and you can feel your stomach drop to your feet as he stares straight back at you,

"Where do you think you're going, pretty girl?" He asks, a small smile on his face.

"And why are you out this late?" He sounds almost suspicious, and you suddenly feel like a criminal just for sneaking around him so much.

"Umm... nowhere," you stammer, wishing you could disappear into the night.

"I…” You take a deep breath. Own it, already! You were already caught!

“Are you asking that as Head Boy, or…”

His smile widens, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as he steps closer.

“I could, but I’m asking as a friend.”

“Didn’t know you were patrolling tonight.”

He makes a noise that doesn’t sound like a yes or a no, because honestly, he wasn’t. The crinkle of the map in his pocket would give him away if you only knew about it. You sigh, running a hand over your hair and he’s still standing there, waiting for you to say something next.

“I just came out to grab a snack. I missed dinner, so I wanted to go to the kitchens.”

“Can I come with?” And before you can reply, he’s offering his arm out for you to latch onto. You both walk silently through the halls and tickle the pear, and this somehow feels normal, comfortable, though you’ve never hung out alone like this. The house elves whizz past you, tending to your needs, and they set a tray of pastries out for the both of you to snack on. He just watches you silently as you both tiptoe around the true reason you’re both here. You're in the middle of eating a danish when he suddenly speaks.

"Why did you say no?"

You stop, flaky crumbs hanging from between your lips as you look at him.

"I asked if you wanted to kiss me, and you said no. But you said you love me, so I’ve been thinking about it since that night," James says, and you almost spit out your food. Did he actually want to kiss you?

“We were under Veritaserum…I just... I got embarrassed. I've never told anyone I've loved them before." you mumble, eyes falling to the table.

"And you barely know me. Why would you want to kiss me?" you add, dusting crumbs off your shirt. He leans in closer to you on the bench as if he’s whispering a secret.

"You barely know me, why would you say you love me?" James counters, as if he’s making a point. In truth, you know him well enough from hanging around his friends. You just never mustered the confidence to actually be his friend. Intimidating as he is, point A being him leaning so close to you that you think he might smell your fear.

"But I do know you, you just don't notice me." you mumble.

You and James both sit in silence for a moment, still in shock by the words that you've both said. The sound of the creaking wooden floorboards catches your attention as someone enters the kitchen. The two of you freeze, looking up to see Remus entering.

"What are you two doing here so late?" he asks, confused.

"I'm not sure," you stammer, feeling your face flush as you realize that you're both alone together, almost cuddling on the kitchen bench. You grab another pastry off the tray and stand up to walk out.

"Goodnight!" you blurt, walking away quickly, but James isn't letting you off that easy.

"Scuse us Moons, I'm not done with her yet," he says, following your footsteps quickly out into the hall.

You hurry away from Remus and out of the kitchen. All of your fears and insecurities seem to fill you once again as you try to process everything that's just happened. You're halfway up the stairs when James catches up to you.

"Wait," he says, putting his hand gently on your arm. You turn around, your arms wrapped tightly over your chest as you face him.

"I'm not trying to scare you, I just wanted to know," he continues, the dim light from the candles above creating deep shadows under his eyes.

“I just... Why do you care? There's so many girls that go after you, so why are you so interested in me? I already embarrassed myself in front of you like the rest of them. What makes this different?”

"Because you're different," he replies instantly.

"You're honest. Not in the way they are which makes me wonder if they even like me or just want to be associated with me. I want what you have with our friends. I want to know you," he continues quietly.

"Those girls are so focused on the idea of me and what I have to offer, but something tells me you’re different than that. And I want to know you, love. I want to know what makes you tick. You're not just some pretty girl to me," he says softly.

“You already make me tick. Standing here makes me feel like I'm going to burst into flames.” You breathe shakily, throwing caution to the wind as you continue, "You already know you're attractive, and I don't lo----like you just because of that. You're really kind when you help other students, and you don't usually prod at me like this when I can't articulate my feelings, but you're considerate. You asked me if I wanted to kiss you. You care if people are happy, and you make people feel seen, even if they're bothering you. James, even if you're a leader it's because you're a great team player. Even if you don't really know me, it makes my day when you smile at me in class. You...make me feel important."

James just stares at you with wide eyes as you spew words like a waterfall. He suddenly bites his tongue as if he's trying to stop himself, a heavy blush covering his cheeks even in the darkness of the candlelight.

You suddenly take in everything that the two of you are saying - and you realize that he's actually listening. He's really listening. There's such a raw honesty to it, and your heart races so fast inside your chest as you tack it onto the mental list of why you love him.

"So I guess that's why. Even if I didn't know it myself. Sorry."

"Sorry? Sorry for what? For sharing your heart with me?" he asks, his voice growing soft and a boyish smile crosses his face. He steps up onto the landing so both of you are eye level.

"If I asked to kiss you, would you say no again?" he whispers.

“As a friend?” you joke, but you don’t move away when his nose brushes yours.

His voice sends shivers through your spine, and you look up at his hazel eyes as he gazes down at you. He pulls you gently towards him, your back meeting the stone wall as he lowers his lips to yours. You close your eyes for just a moment, but the moment between the two of you lasts an eternity. There’s something electric about your lips meeting his, and the two of you melt together in the darkened alcove. It’s funny how it works, your confidence making you feel like you’re floating as you loop your arms around his neck, and the usually assertive Marauder can’t figure out where to place his hands as they hover over your waist.

As soon as it ends, James breaks away from you as if he's suddenly embarrassed that he’s just kissed you right in the stairwell. Now he’s the bashful one. The taste of cinnamon and mint still lingers even as he steps away, hand scratching the nape of his neck.

"I didn't know what else to say. Can’t seem to be cool around you," he says as he fixes your hair, a quirk in his kiss-swollen lip as he stares at you, eyes twinkling.

"I like you a lot," he says, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I want to be with you. I want you to call me by my first name."

"You'll have to get to know me first. No hard feelings though, Potter," you say cheekily, stepping away and walking back to your room.

All that’s left of you is the forgotten pastry on the ground. James’ chest rumbles with a laugh as he scoops it up, almost skipping away.

—

He doesn’t leave you alone after that. And you make him work for it. It’s new for him, to be someone’s first and earnest choice. He thinks about you often, even when you’re right next to him, and he wants to do this right. James learns to love like you do, quietly, honestly.

You’re all hanging around the Black Lake with your friends as he leans against a tree lazily, both your fingers intertwined in the grass. James watches you laugh at Sirius and Mary splashing each other in the water, and he can see how easy it is to love someone by just watching them.

"You know," he remarks after watching silently for a moment, "you radiate when you smile."

Your face goes flush and you look down at the ground, your fingers still intertwined with his. You can feel his gaze on you, but you're too nervous to look back up at him.

"I like it when you laugh loudly, and the crease in your forehead that shows you’re thinking too hard," he adds softly, and you look up at him with wide eyes. He gives your hand a gentle squeeze and a small smile plays across his lips.

“I’m finding all these reasons why I’m falling for you. Is it supposed to be this easy?” He asks, leaning his head on yours.

“Yes James,” you say without hesitating, no Veritaserum needed.

The next time either of you says I love you, it leaves his lips first, and you know it’s true because he’s more than a friend now too.

—

“To feel anything deranges you. To be seen feeling anything strips you naked.” -Anne Carson

love me some tunes! i listened to "you're here, that's the thing" by beabadoobee while writing!

taglist: @jsjcue

[bowlofworms]

Ya know, when watching NPMD it’s easy to think that Grace choosing to sacrifice her chastity was the best option. Either Steph had to kill Pete, Pete had to kill Steph, or Grace has sex. It seems so easy. This is not to say that this wasn’t the morally correct decision, but

that was THE most important thing to her. It was what she cherished most. It was equivalent to killing someone, at least for Grace. Losing her chastity is just as psychologically damaging to Grace as killing someone.

And to those who don’t have experience with purity culture, to Grace this cannot be undone. She is not only irrevocably changed, but also irreparably damaged. She is eternally tainted. She engaged in the pleasures of the flesh and that’s a BIG sin. Lust is one of the seven deadly sins.

I would argue that killing someone is actually more acceptable (self defense, death penalty, war, ect) to an evangelical like Grace than it is to engage in, not just premarital sex, but sex with someone she wasn’t even dating.

And, not that having to kill someone you love won’t haunt you for the rest of your life, but losing her chastity is also going to haunt Grace for the rest of her life. Her chastity is something she’s supposed to give to her husband on her wedding night. So it’s ruined that for her. It will haunt her every time she showers. Every time someone even mentions sex. Every time she prays. Every single Sunday. This will HAUNT Grace. She will forever view herself as damaged, impure, and unworthy of salvation.

Yes she’s influenced by the Lords in Black now, but the conditioning since birth doesn’t go away in an instant. In fact, the Lords in Black probably ENJOY her suffering. That she is suffering because she worships them.

Not to mention, Grace’s family will likely disown her, her church (her social circle too) will turn on her and reject her, and she is still gonna be hated at school anyways.

She lost everything. Most tragically though, she lost what made her Grace Chastity. The nerdy prude.

[omegalomania]

ok listen obviously like everyone else i am Fucking Devastated but the fucking sHRIMPLICATIONS here are KILLING me.

the two last "new" songs we got before the hiatus were alpha dog and from now on we are enemies (equally fucked up song btw) and pete namedrops alpha dog as the last song they wrote before the hiatus and it's such a. it's SUCH a fucking. augh.

like it's so painfully and clearly a farewell. the lyrics all telegraph it. your time has passed. never means forever. walk off into the sunset. the discussion of how much effort is required to maintain this life and how they already feel burned out, past their prime when they were all in their mid-twenties and early thirties. and the sheer fucking POETRY of the way it was the last song they recorded - tell rock and roll i'm alone again - until they announced their triumphant return with save rock and roll in 2013. welcome to the new déjà vu.

and oh yeah the last word issued in the song's studio version is the word "abracadabra," which pete cites as the word that christian bales character in the film “the prestige” says he will utter before he disappears from prison. "abracadabra" was a key word in the viral ARG-esque marketing campaign leading up to the release of believers never die...right before fall out boy seemingly vanished off the very face of the earth.

and, OH YEAH, the first shows they played after reuniting involved a multi-song medley spanning all the stages of their career, with one of those songs being the first time they ever played alpha dog, albeit partially.

the notion of the wizard through the curtain speaking to a sense of bitterness (at least if pete's ten year old genius annotation is anything to go by) which is the exact same phrasing to the way joe would later talk about the band's fraught, strained feelings leading up to the hiatus in a podcast with kerrang while promoting his book.

many people have pointed out the parallels between flu game and alpha dog - the way they both discuss the exhaustion of being so visible and constantly putting yourself out there and how taxing that is, especially when you're simultaneously trying to cover up how hard it is. how isolating it is, when the whole world is squinting against the starlight feathering off you. it's worth noting that these parallels are not merely implicit, either. "flu game" is in and of itself an explicit reference to a famous game michael jordan played while sick in which he claimed that he didn't want to give up, no matter how sick and tired he was. and how did pete annotate a specific couplet, ten years ago?

we must make it hard to look so easy doing something so hard

another explicit reference to michael jordan, years and years prior.

and this is the first time they've ever played alpha dog in full. nearly 15 full years after the hiatus started. by now, fall out boy have been together for far longer than they've ever been apart. by now, fall out boy has been in their "posthiatus" era for longer than they have their "prehiatus" one.

i dont really have a conclusion to this. just, i dunno man. something about the repeated lyric "never means forever" on a greatest hits compilation titled "believers never die." something about i'm a star vs. so much for stardust vs. no more stardust. something about motifs that span decades, that span years of hurt and cracked-open wounds that have now been poured over with liquid gold, mending them anew. something about reclaiming old scars and ugly histories and reforging them into something filled with streaming starlight and sun-drenched smiles.

abracadabra.

[thebearer]

honestly, thinking about the last episode and thinking about pete, and i am an honest to god pete defender.

like he is so good to sugar, and tries to hard to be good for her, good for the whole family. he knows how fucked up they all are, and he's just there- a little sunshiney boy trying to keep everything together. he has the best of intentions, he really does.

the scene with donna outside the restaurant. how he's just trying to do what's best and he feels empathy for her? he sees the best in people and honestly, i get why they're hard on him- he's not their usual type in the family, but pete deserves all the love and support genuinely.

just picturing your first true berzatto family get together. donna wants to see the new baby, so they have it at the restaurant. steven and michelle from out of town, jimmy, leo, donna, everyone- the whole gang. you're overwhelmed, especially when donna starts drinking.

pete just kinda comes and sits by you, while you're alone and unsure in the corner. you'd already been hounded with a million questions, carmen is trying to keep the peace in the kitchen, trying to check on you, trying to keep everyone from killing each other.

"how are you doing?" pete asks, sitting beside you, baby mikey in his arms.

"i-i'm good." you muttered, eyes darting around the room.

"it's a lot." pete sighed.

"it is a lot." you muttered, nodding slowly. "i mean, i knew it was gonna be a lot. carmy warned me on that but it's like..."

"so much worse than you thought it would be?" pete looked at you carefully.

"yeah." you nodded. "i, uh, i understand a lot more now."

"they're, uh, they're actually really nice. all of them, on their own." pete offered. "like steve and michelle, they're great, really. easy to talk to, always really nice, super fuckin' funny. and...and you know jimmy. leo is... leo's kinda a ball buster. got this dry sense of humor, but he'll be nice to you, a little invasive you know? but he's got good intentions."

you nodded slowly, eyes scanning around the room towards each person. "what about his mom?" you muttered, looking at the white haired woman nursing another glass of chardonnay. "she, uh, she hasn't spoke to me the whole time. i tried to introduce myself and she walked right past me." you tried not to sound hurt, carmen told you to shake it off, but it did hurt. that was his mother, no matter how he tried to play it off.

"donna is... donna is a lot." pete hummed. "she... you can't force donna. ok? she'll come to you when she's ready. right now, she doesn't know who you are. and as fucked up as it is, it's her way of looking out for carm, looking out for herself. just give that one time. she's watching you."

you scoffed lightly. "yeah? that supposed to make me feel better pete?"

"no. no not at all." pete laughed. "but, just some advice. you gonna leave carmen anytime soon?"

"no." you furrowed your brows, shooting a glare at him.

"then you show her that. she'll ease into you. i promise." pete said.

"thank you, pete." you nodded sincerely at him. "thanks for this."

"of course." pete grinned. "it's a lot and they're all too caught up in their own to try and help so... we outsiders gotta look out for each other."

you laughed lightly, looking down at the baby in his arms. he had the berzatto nose, carmen's and mikey's. "you're not an outsider anymore." you grinned. "not with this little guy."

pete smiled proudly. "i'm still an outsider. just got like a lifetime pass in." you laughed, reaching out to stroke the baby's soft tuft of hair. "you wanna hold him?"

"are you sure?" your eyes flashed to him. "i'm not great at it."

pete shrugged, fishing his hand sanitizer out and tossing it to you. "just don't drop him. i won't abandon you with him. promise."

you freshly sanitized hands shook lightly, grabbing the baby a little unsure, shifting the weight in your arm until it was comfortable. baby mikey gurgled, face scrunching for a moment, before he settles, lulled back into whatever rest he was in before.

"ah, he likes you." pete boasted. "must know you're gonna be a vip like me."

you snorted lightly, swaying back and forth with the tiny baby. "yeah. hopefully."

"you will be." pete nodded, his eyes cutting over to the figure by the windows. "judging by carmy's face, you definitely will be."

you looked up, seeing your boyfriend standing there, a water in his white knuckled grip staring at you. you smiled gently, nodding him over.

"they got you on baby sitting duty?" carmen grinned, trying to play off how flustered he was before, how his heart was skipping a beat seeing you like that.

"somethin' like that." you hummed. "pete just asked if i wanted to hold him. he's cute. kinda looks like you."

carmen scoffed as pete boasted. "he does, doesn't he! i told nat that and she told me i was crazy! see, nat!" he stood, going to get his wife from across the room, a promise he'd be right back.

carmen slid into his spot, leaning over your shoulder to look at the baby- his nephew. "he's cute." he nodded. "sorry you got stuck with pete." his tone snarled, rolling his eyes gently.

"hey, stop that." you frowned. "pete is very sweet, alright? he's a good guy, carm."

carmen could feel his shoulders tense. he was a good fuckin' guy, he knew that, that's why they gave him such a hard time. "you're right." carmen muttered. "he is a good guy."

"what were you two talking about?" carmen asked, letting the baby wrap his tiny fist around his finger.

"he was just telling me about your family."

"oh." carmen rolled his eyes sarcastically. "i'm sure that was great."

"it was." you said firmly, looking at him. "all the good stuff, baby. promise."

carmen blushed, resisting the urge to kiss you while his sister and pete came back over, pete exaggeratedly talking about how the baby did look like carmy and mikey and you agreed, which then brought jimmy over to give his opinion, stevie and michelle following, until everyone was around you bickering and throwing back and forth about who was right.

[heretherebedork]

So much of Pit Babe is people who thought they were unloved and unable to be loved discovering that they are actually very, very easy to love with the right person. It's people who think they're too much or too little or that there is a part of themselves that no one can ever accept finding out that they were wrong and that every part of themselves is just right when the right person sees all of them.

It's the way Charlie loves Babe into softness.

It's the way Kenta can't truly bring himself to kill Pete despite his loyalty to his father.

It's the way Alan promises Jeff he'll never be tired of him.

It's the way Babe mourns Charlie when he wasn't sure he would be missed.

It's the way Pete is drawn towards desperation and yearning in people who never see themselves in a love story.

It's the way Jeff blushes when Alan flirts no matter how awkward he is.

It's finding love when you thought it was for other people and when you were told by the world that love just wasn't yours to have, that your walls had to be higher, that you would never know what it meant because there was no one for you.

And finding that love and realizing how much that love matters when you are loved wholly as you are.

[ourmadmusings]

a/n: bc anon asked for a part three, and im super cheesed about it. I wasn’t gonna post it until tomorrow, but what can I say, im a generous god. 

Take me far enough to say we’ve gone - 

Miguel O’Hara was also a nervous man, as it turned out. He was nervous for you, afraid of what the light in his chest had to offer when he saw you return from a successful trail-run. His bluff was called, it seemed, and you passed with flying colors, earning a wide smile from Peter B. as he dropped you off, once again in O’Hara’s main quarters. The heavy glow from all of his screens casts him in an ever-intimidating light, that seems to be his theme with you. Scary.  He’d watched you with rapt attention on your little assignment, not sure why he’d anticipated the worst to happen to you - worst-case was Peter stepped in and bailed you out, but he’d informed Miguel that he hadn’t even needed to give any advice, a silent watcher, only coming down from his perch on a near building to show you how to activate the force-field device and ring in for a transfer.  “Well, looks like you’ve earned a permanent position amongst our ranks, huh?” He’s mumbling a little, he seems a little deflated as he says it. “Isn’t that a good thing?” You’re raising a brow behind your ever-present mask, nary a ding on your suit. He can tell how much confidence the mission had given you, your shoulders not tilting inwards like they had the last few times he’d loomed over you. Your back was straight, and your hands pressed firmly on your hips in the shared stance every spider-person adopts when they know they’ve done well.  “Of course it is, but these missions aren’t always gonna be so easy, kid.” He mirrors you, standing up straight, leaning down slightly to make his point, “there’s gonna be a mission for each of us that we can’t come back from, you know that, right?” It’s almost threatening, the way his red eyes bore into your white eye-covers. He watches your chest deflate a little at the comment, a pang of remorse runs through him for saying it in such a harsh way. Truly, he just wanted you to be aware of the risks here, the sacrifice that you may be called to make one day. Each of them was expected to lay their life down for the greater good, and he wasn’t exempt from that, either. In his mind, he was offering you an out, a second chance to save your own hide if that’s what you really wanted, before taking on such a lofty responsibility. You jump a little when you hear the door slide open behind you, “jeez, Miguel, as pleasant as ever, aren’t’ya?” It’s the Peter that came with you, “Mayday is asleep-” who? “-Why d’ya always try to scare the new kids, don’t you think she’s proved herself enough?” He looks at you with a warm smile, the kind a father would wear as their kid rounded home for the first time, “I think you killed it, kiddo, don’t let him take the wind from yer sails. I was impressed,” you feel your cheeks heat up at his blatant praise and mumble a sweet thank-you, absent-mindedly kicking a pretend pebble as he claps a warm hand on your shoulder. He doesn’t stop, “why don’t you take your mask off and breathe a little, huh? It must feel terrible in there after the long day,” you can tell he’s being genuine when he asks, bending down to stare right into your mask with a slight tilt of the head, but you can’t help the itch on your forehead when the mask isn’t there, especially thinking about having to make direct eye contact with O’Hara.  He cuts in, “she says she’s more comfortable with it on, Peter.”  “Well, that sounds like a lie, she’s probably just terrified of you, chief. Especially when you go around making threats like that on a debrief.” They carry on like you’re not standing right there. “It’s not my fault if I want them to be aware of the risks, Pete.” How informal of him, using a pet-name, you think. “Yeah, well, the least you can do is thank’em for once. Not everything has to be so life and death. It’s no wonder our turnover is so bad, I have to wonder what our unemployment payout looks like.” They’re not stopping, you really consider making a quick escape while the two men, obviously very good friends based on Peter’s razzing, carry on talking over your head.  “I want to think you’re joking but-” “Tax fraud is no joke, ‘El, you know that.”  You’re…Uncomfortable now, he was right, your mask was kind of stifling after working so hard to have a no-loss mission, there’s still sweat dripping down the back of your neck as the two of them chirp on and on, back and forth. The heat from all the monitors has your vision swimming a little and you start to get a light headed trying to keep up, eventually heaving a heavy sigh of your own. A small, shaking hand makes quick work as you tilt your head down, hair messy as you shake your head, finally getting a good breath of fresh air from outside your protection. Both men stop mid-sentence and stare.  Peter is the first to speak up, not missing a beat but teasing as ever, “there she is, as pretty as ever,” he’s smiling-still. “Feels better, right? Don’t worry about it, we all know how to keep a secret kid, you’re safe here, with us.”  O’Hara just lets a heavy breath fall from his nose and turns away from the two of you, “I have work to finish, Peter, can you get some food for the two of you, please? Consider it a celebration, since you’re so keen on rewarding everyone for just doing their damn job.”  Peter mumbles something as he steps behind you, guiding you with hands on your shoulders, pushing you a little from your spot in the middle, “yeah, yeah, come on.” His head snakes around to smile at you again, “not to brag, but the food here is amazing.” 

It’s quiet after you leave and let the door slide shut, Miguel takes a shaky breath in, and out. He couldn’t help the pang of...jealously? Remorse, maybe, that he couldn’t be the one to tell you that you were safe with them, reassure you, tease you the way Peter was so confident in doing. The way your rosy cheeks looked so pretty, like Pete had said, plays over in his head time and time again for much longer than he’s proud of. He wanted you to know you were safe with him. At the end of it all, he wanted to make sure you were safe.  He’d seen you on his monitors for weeks before calling you to help them, walking around your New York in your street clothes. When Jess had caught him staring at you with such a heavy scowl, he’d said he just wanted to make sure you were keeping it above the wire, doing his due diligence to make sure he wasn’t hiring some loose-lipped kid. She only smiled at her feet, seeing right through his little lie. 

He was even more curt with you after you became comfortable enough to venture the halls without your mask, usually late at night when you knew less folks were around, but pluck his eyes from his skull before he admitted to the dull ache his ability to give you comfort enough to be maskless gave. He really did try to be more inviting with you, even briefly considering taking you on a more risky mission with himself and Jess. Of course, the anxiety that bubbled dashed any hope of one-on-one time in the field. He’d ask you about your canon events, trying to find a way to connect with you. However tight-lipped he was, you were moreso. Mumbling a quiet affirmative or negative, then steering the conversation back to work, against his best efforts. He thought it must feel that way with him, sometimes, when folks try to talk with him. He found himself missing your wry jokes, not as jovial as the run-of-the-mill spider, still keeping a shred perspective on your life of sacrifice. He, of course, knew all of your canon events, he could lay them out by dates and times if he wanted, he’d spent more time than he’d ever admit to on his little…Obsession with you.  It worried him, how fond of your company he’d become in the short time you were helping him. He was really trying to connect, honestly, but every time it felt like he was putting his hand on a hot-plate, and every time he was reminded of what his job meant - sacrifice. And God himself couldn’t convince him of the idea of sacrificing you for this chosen life.  He, as a result, decided to pull back. Treat this as a little passing fancy, maybe you just reminded him of being young again, careless, caution to the wind and so on. 

Months trickled by, trying his best to get you to smile at him despite his resolve to let it all go, to hear your laugh at least once was all he needed to get through his day, it seemed. He was embarrassed, in all reality, he was still technically your boss, no matter how informal that seemed in the walls of the citadel.  “-well, at least that’s what I thought, but Hobie said she was quite the up-and-comer.” He tried to listen to you, but the way you licked your lips made his skin tingle, “I may swing by and meet her, he seems super excited.” You’re leaning over his desk while you talk, Miguel had lost the plot, though. “As excited as someone like him can be, y’know.” “Yeah, send out the welcome wagon, no?” He smiles a little, typing away at some code that needed fixing.  “Ha - well, it’s not like you’re one to do it, you’ll scare her off like a wolf would a hare.” You’re staring at the screen when his fingers stop, hovering over the keys like he’d lost his train of thought, “what’s that supposed to mean?” He turned to face you, eyeing you with a heavy scrutiny, as he was wont to do. “No, nothing bad, I guess. You’re just so dramatic sometimes, it’s weird until you get to know ya’.” There’s a chuckle hidden between the words spilling from your mouth, he wonders if you realize how much he loves when you tease him. It makes him feel more human, less isolated.  “I’m just making sure they all kn-”  “-All know the risks involved, yeah, I’ve heard it all before. I think you’re just pretending so no one knows you’re a big softy.” His fingers haven't moved from above the keys. He leans back in his chair, his straight back finally relaxing a little, “and where do you get off thinking you can talk to me like that, kid?” There’s a stark lack of actual annoyance in his voice, a few months ago, you’d think he was actually offended you’d speak to him that way, but the keen look in his red eyes betrays him these days. “I think Peter is starting to rub off on you.” You laugh a little and smack his shoulder, “someone’s gotta keep you in check around here, right? He can’t shoulder all the burden of your grumpy ass!” You’re smiling down at him, having moved at some point to lean closer. He feels the tips of his ears heat up a little.  “Yeah, well, tell anyone and I’ll have to do somethin’ about it, kid.” You’re a little surprised at him, in the best way. He’s got a full smile, just like the one he wore when you told him about the dryer sheet below your mask, your cheeks heat up and you move to hop off the platform, “hey” a finger pokes at his shoulder -  “don’t start writin’ checks there, boss, or I’ll have to ask you to cash’em some day.” You don’t turn around to face him as you continue, “it’s our secret, I guess. For now, at least.” You pull your mask back over your head as you walk out the heavy door.

He groans a little as the door slides shut, leaving him in the soft hum of all of his monitors - he doesn’t finish the line of code before he shoves himself away from his desk and starts the long trek back to his own private room for the night.

a/n: big man said feelings are for dummys. Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 4-

[chaussetteblanche]

I had this idea in my head for a while; With Kit Connor x gf reader, where she comforts him when he was pressured to come out

thank you <3

pairing : kit connor x reader summary : you are by kit's side as he deals with being forced to come out word count : 900 words warnings : swearing

note : the fact that some so-called "fans" watched the show and had the nerve of accusing him of queer-baiting and pressured into coming out when he was only eighteen is just disgusting to me, check yourselves y'all

You'd been dating Connor for a while. Being an actor, you'd met at some party he had attended with the Heartstopper cast. You'd met Yasmin first, and had immediately hit it off. She was unbelievably funny and down-to-earth. She had introduced you to the rest of the cast, and, naturally, you'd been drawn to Kit. You had exchanged numbers through shy smiles and shaky hands, the rest was history.

Dating someone in the acting world was both a blessing and a curse. As an actor, Kit understood and could relate to your struggles with roles, management, fame, social media... just the industry in general. You bonded over similar experiences as bisexuals who could pass as straight and who didn't always bother with labels or clarifying their sexualities. But as an actor, he was also often on the move, filming thousands of kilometres away from you or in a different time zone altogether.

But even with all this, being with Kit was easy. You both clicked, you just worked. You communicated your feelings and needs and even though you'd had your fair share of arguments, you loved him more than anything. He made you and your life so much better.

So you can imagine that when people he started being accused of queer-baiting and being pressured by people who missed the meaning of the show entirely to come out, you didn't take it well. You loved Kit with all your heart and would tear the world to pieces just for him.

"I just can't believe these people! How dare they? How can they just- sit there and demand this of you!" you'd ranted one night. "You're eighteen for Pete's sake! You don't owe them or anyone anything! Fucking cunts, it's just ridiculous that they think so!" Kit watched you from where he was sitting on the couch, running a hand over his face. You sigh, licking your lips as you trudged over to him. "I'm sorry," you speak softly, standing in between his legs. He looks up at you, shaking his head. "You've got nothin' for apologize for, luv," "But I shouldn't go off like this, it's not fair to you, this negative energy..."

He pulls you into his lap, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your neck. Your hand immediately goes to his hair, gently scratching his scalp as the other wounds itself around his shoulders. "I would make them vanish off the face of the Earth if I could, I swear, I-" "You did all you could, my love, it's already more than enough." He meant the countless posts you'd made concerning his situation as well as other actors', speaking up on the issue in many interviews... He was right, you'd done everything in your power. But it still wasn't enough. And it was killing you.

"But it's not, though. They just won't stop! Where is their bloody decency? And you don't deserve this, any of this. It's so unfair." "I know," He lifted his head up to look at you. Your hand cupped his jaw before you kissed him deeply. "I can take it," he assured against your lips. You pulled away, frowning. "But you shouldn't have to. It's so unfair. I wish we could just shut them all up, tell them to fuck off." "But you've done that already, haven't you?" he chuckled. "Yes, but clearly the message didn't get through." He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. "Stop worrying about me. I'll take care of it." "What will you do?" "I don't know yet, but I'll figure it out."You'd seen the tweet before you'd seen him. He was supposed to come over to your place for Halloween, you were planning on attending a party together, dressed as Shaggy and Velma. You were halfway through getting ready. You had your outfit on and were just getting started on your makeup when your phone started blowing up. Confused, you picked it up, seeing Kit's tweet everywhere. You slapped a hand over your mouth, scrolling down Twitter. Even though you were furious at the people who had brought him to this, you couldn't help but feel proud of him for taking control of the situation and coming out on "his own terms", if they could be qualified as such.

Your doorbell rings and you all but run to open the door. Outside stands Kit, looking absolutely beaten. You bite your lip, eyebrows furrowing. "I just saw," you breathe. He walks in and pulls you into a big hug, sighing shakily into your hair. You rub his back. "Oh, baby," you coo, "I'm so sorry, you don't deserve any of this,"

You usher him to your couch, closing the door and start making some tea. You set both your cups down on the coffee table, sitting down next to him. You take his hands in yours, caressing his knuckles. "How do you feel?" "I- I'm just disappointed, I guess. I thought people, especially after watching the show, would be more understanding, empathetic... just- more human, I guess." "Yeah, people are disappointing." "But I wanted to be the one to say you, you know? I didn't want that taken away from me, I didn't want to be outed." "And you were totally right, you took control of the situation and I'm so proud of you. You changed the narrative." He gave you a small smile.

Kit laid his face in your lap, hugging your thighs. "It still sucks, though," he spoke, voice muffled. You nodded, running a comforting hand up and down his back. "Yeah, it sucks. Do you wanna stay here tonight and watch some scary movies?" "Yes, please."

[paranormaltheatrekid]

Use this as an excuse to dump a bunch of Hatchetfield headcanons, go wild.

Wow ok here we go:

-Ted Spankoffski is a pineapple pizza enjoyer.

-While we’re on the topic of Ted, Tinky definitely keeps clumps of his hair in a bag somewhere.

-Like Richie, Steph used to have dyed hair at some point.

-Becky Barnes is very much an animal person. She definitely got multiple pets once Stanley was gone.

-I didn’t create this headcanon, but I just adore it: Duke named his cat after Miss Holloway.

-Paul likes ice Carmel frappes. He just orders black coffee because it’s easy for Emma.

-Alice Woodward listens to Chappell Roan religiously.

-Webby’s favorite brother was Wiggly. They used to be really close.

-Miss Holloway definitely had the gift even before she made the deal. She saw Webby and stuff.

-Ruth is a Hamilton fanatic.

-Despite the fact that he didn’t make it, Pokey loves the phantom of the opera. He tries to make Paul be Cristine. He hates it, obviously.

-Xander Lee is John’s husband.

-Max and Stephanie were childhood friends.

-Lex and Ethan are bi4bi

-The nerds cosplay together. Ted takes them to conventions and teases them about it, but he secretly loves going.

-Miss Holloway runs karaoke nights at the diner. Her and Duke do duets together.

-Richie’s favorite food is the Miku ramen.

-Hannah Foster likes the Percy Jackson books.

-Also, Hannah didn’t speak until she was like 10 or 11.

-Charles Coven had involvement with Peip. He knew John and Wilbur.

-Nibbly is either the best cook ever or burns everything he touches. No in between.

-Shelia Young and Linda Monroe are both heavy red wine drinkers. Also, Shelia knows the Murrays through the church so she definitely knows Linda.

-I’m not really sure about this one, but I think it would be cool if Miss Holloway was related to the Waylon family.

-Max is secretly a musical theatre enjoyer.

-Kyle isn’t in the best of you scene because Grace killed him before Jason.

-Grace learned how to bury bodies from watching the Jerries. Or perhaps she learned from her mother.

-Benji, the kid who was said to have been able to talk to dogs in yellow jacket, was Scrags from the solve it squad.

-Blinky is an avid smut reader.

-Hannah made Ethan a bracelet. It’s his prized possession.

-Grace used to have a crush on Alice.

-Wilbur Cross has green eyes, like bright green. Idk that he doesn’t. I think he should.

-Charlotte makes her own sweaters. She gave the CCRP gang ones for their birthdays. Bill and Melissa love theirs. Paul hates his. Ted pretends to dislike his, but he’s glad that she made him one.

-Melissa and Woman are gay and in love.

-The reason that Webby taught Hannah how to play the ukulele was because her brother Pokey taught her how to play instruments.

-Linda’s mom was definitely a honey queen.

-Pete is really interested in space. I think it suits him, but also know he can be the space bastard to Ted’s time bastard.

-Forever and Always!Paulkins adopt a dog and multiple kids.

-Nibbly’s human forms are inspired by past honey queens.

-Zoey and Zach used to be very close as kids.

-Steph is very good at makeup. She practices her skills on Pete.

-Some movies Miss Holloway likes are labyrinth and the princess bride. She will not watch a movie made past the 90s. Brenda calls her old.

-Paul doesn’t hate Moana. He is the only one who knows all the lyrics.

[areyoudoingthis]

"So," Ed says while the crew gets the ship ready for Lucius and Pete's matelotage ceremony, shyly swaying his shoulder as he leans towards Stede in what is rapidly becoming Stede's favorite bit of Ed body language. "Zheng's offer."

And Stede hears the question he isn't asking. Hears the plea this time, too. This time he isn't drunk and coming off the high of being worshipped for killing a man to protect his loved ones. The renewed threat on their lives and watching Ed sob brokenly while Izzy died in his arms have sobered him up fast, instilled a new understanding of the way Ed views piracy in him and rearranged his priorities one more time. He thought he had this right when he left Barbados. No matter, he'll keep learning as he goes, keep listening and trying his best to do right by himself and by Ed.

"You wanted to become a fisherman." Ed winces. Stede doesn't hold a drop of resentment towards him, understands how easy it is to panic when faced with something as immense as what they share while the burdens of their pasts still plague them.

"I think I wasn't as well suited to fishing as a I thought," Ed says, ruefully.

"Nonsense. You're great at fishing." He beams at him, knows that Ed is capable of excelling at anything he sets his mind to. But it doesn't have to be fishing, it can be anything they choose. There's a whole world of possibilities open before them now. "What if we explored a different avenue?" he suggests.

Ed's eyes open wide, excited. Stede knows he's on the right track, the way his heart settles in his chest at the look in Ed's eyes tells him he can't go wrong if he follows this instinct for the rest of his days.

"Yeah? Like what?" He sounds impatient to get started.

"I remember you expressing an interest in becoming a restauranter once?"

"Eh, the food industry might be a tad too much work. We'd have to catch the food first, then cook it and serve all the customers..." he looks bashful, like there's something on the tip of his tongue that he's hesitant to speak out loud. "What if-?"

"Yes?" Stede asks, quiet and a little breathless with anticipation. His blood is thrumming, he wants to take this leap with Ed with every fiber of his being, is leagues more eager for this than he was when he first commissioned a ship and set off to sea.

"What about an inn?"

The memory flashes through his mind of Ed gifting a couple of kids on the Republic a bag of gold and a pair of knives, and claiming they weren't pirates but inn owners afterwards. How long has he been thinking about this? How long has this been a dream of his?

"Sounds fun." He smiles, radiant. He's thrilled to join Ed on their next adventure, inn ownership or fishing or bar and grill management. He would go anywhere with him.

"Yeah?" Ed sounds exhilarated too.

"Yes."

And there isn't an ounce of hesitancy in his voice this time around. He knows himself at last, knows the bottomless capacity for loving Ed his heart possesses, doesn't intend to ever let him go again.

Ed leans forward as if he intends to kiss him and Stede's heart starts beating faster, always greedy for Ed. But Ed stops, pauses halfway to Stede and looks doubtful all of a sudden.

"What about this?"

"This?"

"The ship. The crew. Piracy." Stede thinks he means the last one most of all. And god, what a fool he was to almost lose this to a fantasy. What he set out for a lifetime ago wasn't piracy, it was a dream of freedom and a place where he could be himself. He's never more himself than when he's standing next to Ed, looking the future in the eye together. This is his home, where his body and soul belong forever. The ship will continue to house their family and carry them safely across the sea, and they'll come back to visit as much as they want to. He can't wait to see what they get up to, either.

"You're the only adventure I need, Ed."

And Ed melts into his arms and kisses him sweetly.