#To clarify she was not has not and will not watch Stranger Things she was interjecting on a conversation she was not a part of

[eddiemunsonsmum]

5yo: Wait... Does Eddie die?

Me: Yeah he passes away.

5yo: Was he still young?

Me: Yeah, he was only twenty.

5yo: Well that's why you have to be careful. 🤷‍♀️

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Ten

Steve will just have to tell his parents he’s visiting Robin, they already think she’s his girlfriend, so that tracks. Or maybe he’ll just tell them that his shifts are longer than they actually are; but only if they actually show an interest. It’s just as likely they won’t ask. Won’t be interested really, in where it is Steve’s disappearing off too. That’s the most likely outcome, knowing his parents.

Eddie sits upright in the passenger seat, fascinated by everything he’s seeing. It’s cold out, but the sun is shining; Eddie has on his yellow sweater and his shades, his tail wrapped in a blanket, watching avidly as the houses slide past. They’re well out of Loch Nora now, heading towards Hopper's cabin, when Eddie sits up straighter, making an inquiring noise.

Eddie points.

“What is it Buddy?” Steve slows; there’s no one else on the road.

“Upside Down?” Eddie queries, head cocked.

“No. No Buddy. No upside down,” but he turns down the street Eddie’s indicated, curious.

“Upside Down,” Eddie nods, “Upside Down Eddidie tent,” Eddie says, pointing to a house.

“You...you stayed in that house? In the Upside Down?”

Eddie nods, tapping the glass, “safe,” Eddie seems to rethink that, tilting his head, “safe good bad.”

“So...sometimes safe.”

Eddie nods.

“Huh.”

Hopper and El are both sitting on the stoop when they get there, squished side by side on top of the narrow set of three steps up to the cabin.

Steve sighs, “okay Buddy, lets do this.”

Steve goes to get out of the car, but Eddie grabs his wrist, tugging him back, “Stee.”

It’s all he says, but it speaks volumes. He’s frightened. He doesn’t want Steve to leave him here. Steve can’t see his eyes behind the shades, but he knows they’re big and sad.

“It’s not for long Buddy,” Steve turns his hand so he can grip Eddie’s fingers; Eddie holds tight too, “not for long, okay, I promise. And then you can come home.”

Steve can see enough to see that Eddie’s eyebrows are drawn together in a concerned frown, his mouth opens and closes a couple of times, he wants to tell Steve something, he just...doesn’t have the words yet, Steve figures.

“Stee perfect,” he finally settles on, before turning away and carefully opening the car door.

He must have figured out how to do that on his own.

Eddie moves cautiously around the inside of Hoppers cabin. He’s not quite brave enough to touch, but he inspects everything closely.

“He’ll be fine, he’s got his things,” Eddie’s books and walkie are already on the coffee table, his toothbrush and toothpaste in the bathroom. Steve doesn’t know if he’s speaking to reassure everyone else or himself, but it doesn’t seem to be working.

“Stee?” Eddie asks quietly from the kitchen; it’s open plan, but Steve can’t see Eddie where he’s behind the counter.

“Yeah buddy?”

“Idge food?”

“Yeah Buddy, just like at home, it’s in the bottom drawer.”

Steve sees the fridge door open and, after the sound of a brief rummage, it closes again. Eddie doesn’t appear to take anything though.

“And you sure you’ll be fine on the couch?” Hopper asks.

Eddie cocks his head, “sleep on couch,” Steve clarifies.

“Yes. Eddidie sleep couch. Sleep dark.”

“You got it buddy...look, I’ve got to go, I need to sort the pool but...you be good for Hopper and El, okay?”

Eddie nods, and Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen him more dejected, “Eddidie good.”

The following evening, Steve checks on Eddie straight after his shift. He knows it’s late, nearly nine by the time he gets there, but Eddie was so sad...Steve doesn't want to leave him with strangers for too long.

When Steve gets there, Eddie answers the door and then practically launches himself at Steve.

“Hey buddy,” Steve laughs, dropping into a half crouch so Eddie can give him a big hug, “you okay?”

“Eddidie good. Stee good? Work good? Home good?”

“Yeah Buddy, everything is fine,” Steve doesn’t have it in him to explain to Eddie that right now all of those things are actually objectively shit.

“I think he recognized the sound of your car,” Hopper says from the couch, “he said you were coming before we could hear you.”

“I knew it was you,” El says matter of factly from the table.

“Yeah, well, some of us don’t have super powers,” Hopper grouches back.

Steve laughs, sitting on the other couch, Eddie gets a book off the table opposite El and brings it to Steve, “Eddidie col-or-ing,” he says carefully.

Steve flips through the book, “this is pretty good buddy,” most of it’s pretty spot on too, he even stays in the lines at least half the time. There’s a dog though, that’s inexplicably purple, and Steve is suddenly faced with the reality that Eddie’s never seen a dog before. It’s a bit criminal if they’ve left dogs out of the encyclopedia, Steve thinks vaguely.

“We’ve been practicing,” El brings her own book over, showing Steve the picture of a Christmas tree and gifts, complete with fireplace and stockings.

“Good stuff,” Steve smiles at them both, “good job.”

Eddie preens, “El Eddidie Hopper had lunch,” he volunteers, speaking in that careful way he does when he’s navigating new words.

“What did you have?”

“Eddidie celery, grape, pear. El eggos. Hopper cig-a-rette.”

Steve bursts out laughing, and Eddie grins so big in response, obviously pleased with himself.

Eddie has on a cheap plastic watch, it’s pink and has some sort of princess or something on it, a little kids watch. He shows it to Steve very proudly almost the moment Steve is through the door.

“We’ve been learning to tell the time,” El informs Steve, very formally. Steve is fucking elated. He knows it’s stupid, but since that one bad dream, the thought of trying to teach Eddie to tell the time makes him feel all fucking itchy.

“Hows it going?” Steve sits in his usual spot on the couch; Hops not here, but Steve figured as much, since his car isn’t here right now.

“Eddie, what time is it?” El asks.

Eddie makes a performance of pulling his sleeve out of the way, the tip of his tongue poking out and frowning as he inspects his watch carefully, “two and half soon.”

“Eddie...Eddie that’s amazing. So so good! Well done Buddy!”

Eddie absolutely beams at him, “Stee time to-morrow?”

“You learned tomorrow?”

Eddie nods, “sleep dark, tomorrow,” he makes a movement with his hand, like passing over a bump into tomorrow.

“You got it buddy, and...about four ish tomorrow?”

“Ish? Called ish?”

“Oh it’s...near to four. So,” Steve tilts his hand back and forth, “maybe three and a half, maybe four, maybe four and a half. Around then.”

“Around then,” Eddie repeats, nodding. Being around other people, especially El, is clearly doing Eddie some real good; something inside Steve unclenches as some of the worry leaves him.

It’s cold in the woods around Hopper’s cabin; Steve figures El wasn’t too far off with her Christmas coloring. Eddie wanted to come out here though, and Steve only has an hour before work, so he agreed easily.

It’s not exactly wild, the path Eddie takes him down, it is through the trees, but it’s clear. Like it’s been walked often. After a couple of minutes, Steve sees why; there’s a bench sat next to a tiny little trickle of a stream. It really is a tiny amount of water, no more than if three or four faucets were left running, but it still makes a nice burbling tinkle noise as they sit on the bench together.

Eddie leans over, producing something from half under the bench; it was easy to miss, since it’s all pretty much the same color as the ground. It’s long, thick woven grasses and thin twiggy bits. Winter type flowers and a couple of holly leaves, all woven carefully together. Eddie lays it carefully across Steve’s thigh, both ends hanging down.

“Did you make this?”

Eddie nods.

“Wow Buddy, that’s really cool. Well done.”

Eddie frowns at him, pointing, “Stee.”

“Oh. Oh it’s for me? Like a gift?”

“Gift. Yes. El- Ell tell Eddidie…”

“What Buddy? What did El tell you?”

Eddie seems to struggle for a moment, “gift thank you.”

“Oh. Oh, thank you for what?”

“Safe. Eddidie Safe. Food. Stee. Hawkins Indiana. Pool. Couch. TV. Tent. Book. Touch-”

“Right. Right I get it Buddy, thank you for everything.”

“Every-thing,” Eddie repeats carefully.

Eddie leans over, nudging Steve’s thigh, getting him to lift up, trying to tie the ends together over Steve's jeans, “ohhh...wait no,” Steve stops Eddie, “I guess I’m supposed to wear it, but it’s going to get ruined the second I walk, hang on,” Steve carefully ties the ends together into a hoop, then lifts the whole thing gently, settling the whole thing on his head. It’s very light really, his hair should hold it in place, mostly, “how do I look?”

Eddie looks absolutely delighted, “perfect.”

“You’re being pretty liberal with that word, you know.”

Part Twelve

[luvchaew]

unwrapping!

jay has been your best friend for ages, but when touches started to linger and jealousy started to take all over him, you decided to give him a little surprise on his birthday. (feat zb1 hanbin, enhypen sunoo, katseye lara, mentions of riize wonbin)

“you really think i didn't know you had a thing for me all this time?” bestfriend!jay x pervy!reader, f2pl wc𓈒 3k— not proofread! ✴ cursing, making out, unprotected sex (don't ppl), oral (m. receiving), creampie, p in v, praise & degradation kink, breeding kink, jay is a switch, banter, slightly fluffy, pet names (jongseongie, baby, darling, princess..), mdni!

happy birthday jongseong! crazy to think you're already all grown up — he's finally 23 guys, are we gonna be okay?

𝑚. 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍

jay had always been there.

if not for you, with you, for sure.

you didn't really remember what it felt like not having him around since you were about 12, except those past weeks; since you showed up with your situationship to a weekend barbecue, at least.

he'd been ignoring you — not really ignoring, but making it clear that something was up.

5 days ago, when you handed him the mayonnaise, his fingers brushed over yours carefully, with so much caution put into it that it was almost deliberate, like he was touching a stranger. a week ago, when you sent him a very funny electric guitar-related meme via dm, he didn't reply. worse, he didn't even react with a laughing emoji or something. things were definitely off, but you couldn't pretend you didn't know, not if you dig deep into your mind.

what you actually didn't know, but got hold of during a phone call with your friend, sunoo, was that jay accidentally overheard your conversation about wonbin — your brand new situationship — and how good he was in bed. that clarified a lot, if you were being honest.

you couldn't deny that he always paid too much attention to you. that his gaze lingered way more than it should. that some of your sleepovers at his house almost turned into something else if it wasn't for the solemn string that still kept you sane. that the silent acknowledgement of his feelings were always there, but you were simply too stubborn to admit it, to say that maybe, just maybe, you also wanted to be more than friends with him.

since there was this possibility that he was jealous, that he didn't want you with anyone else, you got thrilled, perhaps simply carried away, you couldn't tell. this wait has been killing you since you were 18, and if he wasn't brave enough to act, you were.

the idea at first was hanbin's, when he had already had too much beer and his messy hair covered half of his face. your roommate, lara, was there too, and perhaps it was the alcohol you drank while watching that baseball match, but you soon found yourself excited for it, planning everything amusingly fast.

“okay, so you're gonna be dressed in what?” lara pointed out, cleaning her slender fingers — that were full of nacho's orange bran, by the way. — on her pants.

“wait, there's a need for clothing?”

“hanbin! i'm not fully strip teasing in front of my best friend all of sudden, it has to be more subtle. let's focus”

“aren’t you going to do the ’let’s end up waiting’ thing? i was just trying to help, sorry” he pouted, raising his hands in cynical defeat.

“i think a ribbon tied around me would be good. something like ‘come and unwrap your birthday present’. ”

lara exclaimed, visibly pleased, her braided hair moving as she bounced slightly on the couch, she also helped giving more ideas, suggesting some ridiculous stuff like putting some background sexual music to play when jay was supposed to enter the room during his party — she probably meant Chase Atlantic, and it was soon discarded. — by dawn, sunoo also appeared, his eyes swollen from sleep but his mind working fast, brainstorming with you as he giggled playfully.

all of them waited all their life for this, didn't they?

“let's go through the plan once more” you started, biting your lips, “i’m gonna pretend to be nonchalant about his birthday, and at first not show up to his party. around 8pm, sunoo is helping me to sneak into his room and lara is going to tell him to go upstairs and search for something, or someone. when he enters the room, i'm gonna be there,”

“with a ribbon around you, do not forget” hanbin added, resting his chin on his hands as he listened attentively.

“yeah, there's that, too. and navy blue set of lingerie, god—, where was my mind at?”

“no backing out now, misses courage, we're fucking gonna do it and you're in. because there's technically no plan without you and we need that thrill” your roommate encouraged you, and even if there was pressure, you felt way more enthusiastic about it than what you should, hence why you just continued, nodding.

“i know, i know. then you're closing the door and we're gonna, um, have a lil’ fun”

they all excitedly laughed, and for a split up second, you swore sunoo would stand up and start jumping — it was almost his second nature to do so, and it honestly wouldn't be a surprise.

“but what if he refuses? aren't we going too far?” you spoke up, letting your insecurities show for a minute. you would be so embarrassed if he just ran away. if he said he didn't want that. and you knew damn well it would ruin your friendship one way or another.

“oh, stop. i have heard that guy moaning your name while showering more than once. it's gonna be fine” and perhaps it was the worst decision you've ever made, but you chose to believe them. are you this slutty to enjoy dragging your childhood best friend to a hook up on his birthday party knowing that he has no willpower to deny it whatsoever?

apparently yes.

you could blame it on the alcohol, yes you could, but when the days passed and the idea were still standing, your mind flying back to it every time someone mentioned sex?

there was no one to blame anymore. you just had to embrace your natural-pervy self and wait for everything to happen naturally — only with a little helping hand coming from you, of course.

because you wanted that to be the best birthday gift he's received his whole life.

one could call it obsession, concern, anxiety, whatever, but the only thing you knew was that the first thing that came to your mind the moment you woke up on the 20th was: “it’s today”.

throughout breakfast, you overthinked and overthinked about the small birthday text you'd sent him. you honestly couldn't remember when it was the last time you didn't send jay a wholesome message on his anniversary, however today would be different. today would be a new start — or maybe an end, depending on how things would go.

but you were positive.

you ended up deciding on a simple ‘happy 23, jongseongie’ and a white heart right next to it, which he visualized within minutes and didn't reply. you were expecting it, but it hurt either way, and maybe you kept staring at your phone screen for too long waiting for a signal.

despite the tension throughout the day, before you knew you were already barging inside his crowded house, sunoo by your side, lingerie clinging to your skin sinfully as a tight black dress hid it.

as you entered the room, you were quick to get rid off your dress and lay down on his bed, being extra careful to show enough but not too much in the direction of the door. as you did it, you were embarrassed to find yourself already soaked, he shouldn't be affecting you this much, should he?

you soon heard steps approaching and momentarily panicked. the loud conversation of the house and the noise of yells faded away, everything shifting completely in the atmosphere when he entered the bedroom, eyes darkening when his gaze fell on you.

you hadn't seen him in days, and saying he looks good was an understatement. broad shoulders, tight jeans perfectly fitting him, a strand of messy hair falling on his forehead.

jay called your name lowly, looking confused, but stepping forward, closer, dangerously closer.

“come and unwrap your birthday present, won't you?” you tease, voice dripping with honey and fake innocence given the position you were in: legs slightly opened, head tilted, body barely hidden and biting your bottom lip.

for a second, you thought he was going to turn around and run, and you considered apologizing, but then he was on top of you in no time, crawling to the bed and pinning your wrists on the mattress on top of your head.

it was everything he'd ever dreamed of. you on his bed, deprived of clothes, completely on his mercy.

“fuck, y/n— that's what you planned acting all bratty this whole time?” he groaned, sounding devastated.

“um, surprise?” you darkly chuckled, and jay searched for your brown doe-eyes. when he took it all in, he held your waist with his free hand and pulled you in.

it wasn’t a cute, soft kiss, but one that left you breathless as fast as it started. his lips worked fast on yours, the movements of his head leaving you dizzy. he pressed further, opening your mouth and sliding his tongue inside, exploring your warmness as if he had been starved.

you felt every single hidden feeling dissipating, every dangerous gaze making sense, every time he’d called you ‘princess’ — as a joke, as you'd tell yourself — meaning much more than it did before. and now you believed your friends when they insisted that he has been liking you for ages, because the force in which he kissed you was different.

you'd never been kissed like that before.

you ran your hands through his neck, gripping firmly in an attempt to ground yourself. you hummed softly, his grip tightened and suddenly the shortness of breath was present, leaving you separated for a while.

he looked deep into your eyes, breathing heavily, and only then scanned your body, groaning as he saw the navy blue lacy panties and the wet mark there.

“god, you look beautiful—” he hissed, amused. he freed your wrists and messily untied the ribbon, whereas you swore he was trembling slightly. the soft fabric fell down on the floor as he was quick to cup your barely covered tits, admiring them. jay would've been fast to unbutton your bra and give them the respectful attention, but it wasn't what you wanted now, you wanted him to feel good. it was a birthday surprise, after all.

“jongseongie, let me take care of you first,” he looked at you, wide-eyed, as if the idea alone threatened something inside him. you propped yourself on one elbow and sat up, slowly pushing him to lay down on the bed with the tip of your fingers.

he stiffened for a moment, but soon layed down, closing his eyes, trying to find sanity. you position yourself between his legs, spreading it open.

“ngh, too much clothes, take it off” you pleaded, and he obeyed, because who was he to deny you a wish like that?

as he took out his shirt, you almost crawled on top of him to leave lingering kisses everywhere: his jaw, collarbone, neck, shoulders. sometimes you would suck on it slightly just to feel how he shaked when you nibbled a specific spot right between his shoulder and neck. you didn't really overthink it, but jay was overly sensitive, trembling, panting, humming.

your nails scratched his abs, worshipping them. you’d already seen jay shirtless, when he was swimming, or when it was too hot and he sweated heavily so it would be excusable to take it off, but this was different, hotter, better. you earned beautiful noises that sounded more like the choir that opened heaven's gates, and when you settled beneath him, touching his clothed prominent crotch, work had to start.

“be good f‘me, hm jay? let me take you?” you whispered, patting his bulge teasingly, feeling it get harder with each stroke. he squirmed, eyelids fluttering close. “i need words, baby”

he opened his eyes slowly, pupils dilated. when he spoke up, his voice was low, hoarse, strained, “yeah, y/n, fucking gimme the best birthday gift i've ever received”

you smirked, satisfied, and gently lowered his pants and boxer, removing it. his hardened member instantly flew forward when it was released, the tip glistening. you hummed and leaned in, stroking it once, twice, three times, until he began to whimper, impatient.

you chuckled, spitting on it and finally leaving kitten licks on the tip, tasting the precum that coated his dick. his hand came to grip your hair in a lazy ponytail, while the other rested under his head. when he pressed further, leaving you no choice but take him in, you tried your best not to gag at the sudden movement, eyes closing.

he was big, you couldn't deny it whatsoever, but the biggest hardship was that he was thick, and it barely fit inside your mouth, competing for space with your tongue.

you swirled your tongue around it and started to suck slowly, feeling how he hit the roof of your mouth continuously.

you hummed around his dick, sending electric waves through his body and he groaned, wrecked, going rougher now.

“continue like that, shit princess—” he lowly muttered, and you drooled all over his shaft, saliva dripping down from your mouth and covering your face. you were a mess, and you knew that, perhaps was even proud of it, and when tears fell down on your face, the salty liquid combining with saliva and precum, jay was sure he didn't deserve that. you looked so damn pretty.

but he only continued, feeling his climax approaching embarrassingly fast, because you were his gift anyway.

his hands moved faster and his hips bucked forward. you looked at him through eyelashes and the vision you had was a crime to be for free: head fell back, lips slightly parted, messy hair, adam’s apple bobbing.

his thighs trembled next to you, and with a deeper thrust, his hot cum was shot at the back of your mouth, leaving you no option but to swallow it.

his seed spread messily along your mouth, his tip shining red, and as he drove himself through the orgasm, still fucking your glossy lips, you moaned unconsciously — high-pitched, dark.

you swore that the view alone could've finished you, and you were almost coming undone when he sat up, still heavily breathing, and pushed you down on the mattress, flooding you with his scent.

his uneven breath hovered just above your ear as he stared down at you, dark eyes scanning you in a whole. his fingers traveled to your soaking wet core, groaning when he entered in contact with it, “so wet, so gorgeous—” he tossed your lacy panties to the side, sliding a finger and stroking your cunt and bud all together. you moaned at the touch, a shiver running through your spine. he continued teasing, never giving in, breathing heavily, “do you think you deserve being fucked after bringing that boy around, hm princess?”

“he was no good so you had to come to me, isn't that it?” his words made you squirm, clenching around nothing as he continued teasing, fingering but never entering, his still-hard cock hitting your thigh at the proximity.

he was, at the same time, overwhelmingly close, but not close enough, not touching you were you wanted him to, where you needed him to.

you rolled your hips, desperate to create friction, and he only chuckled mockingly, his grin growing wider, darker.

“please— oh my goodness, please”

“please what, darling?” he gripped your inner thighs firmly, spreading yourself open, like you were an open book that only he could read.

“f-fuck me, ruin me, please, jongseongie!”

he let out a sound so lustful you weren't sure what it was, and snapped. he captured your lips in a kiss, now raw, messy, rushed, where he could taste himself on your tongue, and pumped his fingers in and out of you, stretching you open.

you moaned against his mouth, and right when he began to find your g-spot, curling perfectly, he pulled out. you whimpered at the loss, but soon, without any warning, he entered you completely. the stretch was overwhelming, and you felt him deep in your stomach, sitting inside for a while before thrusting fast. your jaw opened in a silent scream, and you held on to his scalp for dear life. it felt so good, your bodies intertwined like a limbo, damp of sweat covering his forehead, his dick hitting you so deep you saw stars. why haven't you done this before?

he hid his head on the crook of your neck, biting and nibbling on the sensitive spot there, the sensation sending butterflies on your stomach.

because it was supposed to be just sex, but his hands on your waist? hickeys left by him appearing on your collarbone? his name being recited as a chant as he was buried deep in you?

it felt more than just hooking up.

and maybe it was, but you were too afraid to admit, or perhaps it simply didn't matter now. you'd always been inconsequential.

as his groans started to get louder, his thrusts faltered, losing its pace and coming out messier, breaking your limits and surpassing where was the max you thought you could handle.

“princess, do you feel me here? going s’ deep”

“taking me in so good. letting me use you just as i want, you're the prettiest gift ever aren't you?”

“do you feel my cock hitting this perfect pussy?”

tears started to fall down your face again, but now they were saltier, the pain growing overwhelming when the knot on your stomach snapped, releasing what felt like a whole bottle of transparent cum.

jay didn't stop for a second even after your liquid was shot on your bodies, only holding your sides harder as he chased his own release. one could say he was possessed, eyebrows furrowing, eyes empty, mouth open.

“damn— t’much, too much, ngh” you cried out, earning a chuckle from him, as he muttered how you should take it because it was his birthday after all.

his thrusts faltered even more, his head falling back, you could feel that he was close. when he did release, his orgasm filling you up perfectly, shooting deep inside you, you were sure that was the best sensation you've ever felt.

“yeah, darling, letting me fill you up so good, hm? look at you, looking so wrecked. did i ruin you completely?”

you couldn't form coherent sentences, your mind occupied by a black cloud, where you wanted him, felt him, thought about him.

he laughed down at you, falling apart, wrapping an arm around your waist lazily. he nuzzled into your hair, feeling grounded on your scent, drunk in your taste. he lifted your chin up to kiss you once more, all those unspoken feelings, unacknowledged promises being transferred from you to him and vice-versa.

“i think you're receiving the first piece of cake this year, you were by far the one who made me happier today, princess.”

[0798f]

💞 — Secret Banter.

RELATIONSHIP: Ootori Kyoya x Reader

SUMMARY: Somehow, discovering a disheveled Kyoya in a commoner mall was only the second strangest thing Haruhi found out that day. Your existence took the number one spot.

A/N: I love secret relationship trope so much... Tell me Kyoya wouldn't keep his relationship under wraps.

This was far from the worst day Kyoya has ever had, but. Well. Today was not making it into the top 10 of best days for sure.

He was dragged to a labyrinth in his sleep and then subsequently abandoned by his friends. In a terrible outfit, no less. Kyoya wasn’t sure if he was relieved to have Haruhi rescue him or if he was mortified that she had to see him in this state.

Haruhi wasn’t sure either. She was in awe watching Kyoya eat a burger— it was like entering an alternate timeline. Compared to the rest of the host club, Kyoya was always more knowledgeable on the lives of commoners, but in a superficial way. He knew statistics and basic facts about regular people like a child knew facts about dinosaurs. Without Haruhi, Kyoya was as disconnected from the real world as everyone else at Ouran.

“… Kyoya?” The pair looked up at the voice calling Kyoya’s name. For a second Haruhi thought someone from the host club finally came back to look for their missing parent, but the person standing in front of them was a stranger to Haruhi. They had a bag of groceries and a confused expression. An utterly normal person.

The strangest part was that Kyoya clearly recognized this person. “(Name)?” His eyes reflected the same confused expression that the bystander had.

“Why… are you dressed like that?”

Now Kyoya was sure that mortification was the strongest emotion he felt today.

“Kyoya-senpai, you know this person?” Haruhi tried to figure out what kind of person would be shopping for groceries at a commoner’s mall but also be acquainted with the shadow prince of the host club. Related to the owner of the mall? No, that was too small scale for the level of high society that Ouran students dealt with. Them being related to the CEO that owns every mall chain across Japan was more likely.

He hesitated to answer, gaze lingering on the person in front of them. Kyoya carefully put down his burger before pushing up his glasses and stating matter-o-factly, “yes. Haruhi, this is my partner, (Name). (Name), this is the Haruhi Fujioka I told you about.”

Haruhi blinked. Partner? She went through her known information about Kyoya, which admittedly wasn’t a lot, but nothing pointed to him having a partner. Especially not a commoner! But the living proof was standing right next to their table and Haruhi was miffed, to say the least. “Partner?! Kyoya-senpai, you have a partner?!”

“Must you sound so shocked?” Kyoya retorted, and there was some earnesty in his otherwise sarcastic remark. It wasn’t like she ever asked him if he had a partner. Everyone just assumed he didn’t.

(Name) bowed following the introduction. “Fujioka-san,” they smiled. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s nice to meet you.”

They really were a normal person. Dressed in plain clothes and unassuming. And polite. Haruhi realized early on at her transfer to Ouran that polite was rarely a word to describe the children of the wealthy and elite. Haruhi stood up to bow in return. “It’s nice to meet you too, (Name)-san. Sorry, I hope my reaction wasn’t rude. I had no idea Kyoya-senpai had a partner. Do you want to sit with us?”

Before (Name) had a chance to respond, Kyoya already grabbed a chair from an empty table and pulled it over. One exchanged glance with Kyoya was all it took to get (Name) to sit down. “Don’t worry about it, Fujioka-san. Kyoya doesn’t really tell people about me.”

“Please clarify that it is a mutual decision to keep our relationship private,” Kyoya sighed.

(Name) laughed. “Sorry, I was teasing.”

“No one knows? Also, you can call me Haruhi. Please don’t feel the need to be formal!” Haruhi was trying to figure out how to phrase questions that wouldn’t immediately get shut down by Kyoya. How did you meet, how long have you been together, how is your partner a commoner?

“Well, Tamaki-san knows. He found out after—“

Again, Kyoya was quick to interrupt. “Please don’t explain that story. It’s embarrassing.”

“I didn’t know you were worried about shame. Could’ve fooled me with that outfit of yours and your peculiar new hangout spot!” (Name) grinned, and Haruhi found herself in awe for the second time that day. She was used to Kyoya always having a witty remark ready for when one of the club members decided to yell at him, but (Name) might be his equal in that regard. Not only could they banter with Kyoya— Kyoya seemed to enjoy it. He had an unbeatable poker face but Haruhi definitely noticed the corners of his lips curling upwards as he looked at (Name). There was a softness in place of his usual cunning.

Haruhi leaned back in her chair, pleasantly entertained by the pair in front of her. “I guess it makes plenty of sense for Kyoya-senpai to have a private relationship. But, doesn’t that mean you don’t have a lot of time to spend with each other?”

“Oh, sure. I wouldn’t call it ideal. But, Kyoya is married to his job, y’know? I couldn’t take that away from him.”

That time, Kyoya pinched (Name)’s cheek in retaliation. “You’re making me sound like a bad partner. Yes, we don’t spend as much time together as the average couple, but we always make time for each other.”

“Have I ever told you that you look uncomfortable when you explain our relationship to other people?” Kyoya pulled on their cheek. “Agh! Let go!”

Kyoya complied with the request, but not before pressing a light kiss to the cheek he just bullied. He was a host, after all. He knew how to treat someone right. His regular customers would probably be furious to know that he was so chaste on physical affection because it was reserved for his dear partner.

(Name) wasn’t wrong about Kyoya being uncomfortable. He knew how to play the role of a host, but having to be honest about something real, in public, was a different ballpark entirely. But the fact that he was in a space where no one knew who he was or what his status was served to be quite freeing. The usual pressure on his shoulders of being an Ootori was alleviated for once, so he locked hands with (Name) over the table.

It was Haruhi’s turn to be cunning since she would never be afforded this opportunity against Kyoya again. “Kyoya-senpai has been so grumpy today,” Haruhi started. “But he relaxed as soon as you arrived, (Name)-san. He’s really fond of you.”

If (Name) wasn’t here, Kyoya would’ve probably found a way to twist Haruhi’s comment into more debt for her to pay off. But (Name)’s eyes lit up, so Kyoya let Haruhi get away with it this time.

“You’re really good at reading him, Haruhi-san! I may be teasing a lot, but he’s really a great guy. I couldn’t ask for a better partner.” (Name) talked about Kyoya like he was the most precious thing on the planet. For (Name), Kyoya wasn’t just the third Ootori son. He wasn’t burdened with the harshest expectations. All he had to do was be good to them and sometimes Kyoya wished he lived in a world where that was the only thing he ever had to be worried about in his life.

But, right then, in a commoner mall Kyoya had no familiarity with, it was like living that alternate life. So Kyoya allowed himself to smile at (Name) and take in the praise.

“Neither could I.”

masterlists.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

interaction with mama or papa leech (or both) please!

yuu was walking down the hallway along with jade and floyd, exchanging stories of recent happenings before it was interrupted by the sound of someone calling out to them.

"jade! floyd!"

by the looks of the twins' excited expressions and the occasion of family day, they connected the dots that it must be their parents and swiftly hid behind one of the brothers before the person came into view, trying to remove their own presence. although jade had clarified that they had a normal family business, they can't help but get nervous and perhaps a bit frightened, especially with how the leech's definition of "normal" is quite... questionable. maybe if they're lucky, they can make a run for it before they start to take notice...

(i hope i did this right!)

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

“Mother and father.”

“Mom!! Pops!!”

You hesitantly peered out from behind the twins. Two lanky figures towered over you, as imposing as skyscrapers.

Mr. Leech was stone-faced, skin slightly grooved like a rock carved by the crashing waves, teal hair streaked with black slicked back with gel. His eyes were like beacons of light searching in the night--sharp, discerning. He wore a smart pinstriped suit, polished shoes, and gloves, reminding you of an older Jade.

Mrs. Leech's lithe form was wrapped in an off-the-shoulder sun dress, the slit of it riding halfway up her thigh, skirt spilling into a waterfall of gathered tulle. A string of creamy pearls--simple, understated--drapes across her collar. Her wide brim hat shaded her face, but you could still admire how she had expertly painted her lips and eyes, how her hair fell in a loose wave over one shoulder. She was like Floyd, mixing an impeccable fashion sense with a slight hint of danger.

When Mrs. Leech spotted her sons, she charged at them at a speed that was shocking for a woman in high heels. She threw her arms around Jade and Floyd, pulling them in for a tight hug.

"My babies!! I've missed you so much, darlings," she gushed. "How are classes? How are clubs? You must tell me everything...!"

“It’s wonderful to see you as well. We have much to catch up on.”

“Ehehehe~ Mom? you’re squeezin’ me so hard! Watch out, cuz I’ll get’cha back!!”

Mr. Leech cleared his throat. "Pardon the interruption, but..." His eyes cut to you—no longer concealed by the twins—and you froze, pinned in place by his stern gaze. “It seems we have a stranger in our midst. Jade and Floyd's... friendly acquaintance, I presume."

Mrs. Leech released her children. “Just a moment, dear!!”

The giantess appeared before you, her shadow larger than life. You managed a single shaky step backwards before her claw-like nails dug into you.

“Ah, mom went right to work,” Floyd said in a singsong.

“Do stay still,” Jade advised you. “It will make the process go by much more quickly.”

J-Just what is going to happen to me?!

Mrs. Leech’s hands ran the length of your body and its crevices. She never lingered in one spot. Pat, pat, pat, then onto the next area.

A full body pat-down?!

“All clear,” Mrs. Leech called to her husband.

“Excellent. That is a relief." Mr. Leech adjusted his tie and offered a wane smile. "Excuse us. We're in the habit of running through a series of safety protocols before receiving guests. Unfortunately, it's terribly inefficient to carry out in a public setting." He paused. "... How do you feel about signing nondisclosure agreements?"

"N-Nondisclosure agreements?!"

"Honey, you're going to terrify the poor thing," Mrs. Leech tutted--but she was giggling faintly as though she had just heard a witty joke. "Don't worry. My husband can be a very gentle man."

D-Don't that imply he also has the capacity to be very ungentle?!

"E-Erm..." You worriedly glanced at the twins, who were smirking (but, you had noticed, not actually intervening).

"What does your family do, anyway?" you once asked Jade.

He had taped a finger to his lips and mysteriously answered, "They simply run an independent business that dabbles in a bit of everything. Nothing out of the ordinary, I assure you."

"Some help here, guys?" you whimpered.

"Sorry, not much we can do," Floyd responded with a (very unhelpful) shrug. "Dad's got his stuffy processes. No one can get in the way of those."

"I-I'm not going to be roped into making as blood pact, am I?!"

"Blood pact? My, what an active imagination you have." Jade chuckled. "I believe I have informed you before that our family business is nothing out of the ordinary."

"Frankly, I'm not sure I believe you anymore!"

"Oh my~ Did you hear that, dear?" Mrs. Leech grabbed her husband by the arm. "It sounds as though Jade and Floyd's friend doesn't trust us."

"Indeed." He was smiling, but it did not fully reach his eyes. "It would be a shame if we allowed them to walk away with the wrong impression of our happy little family."

"Fufufu... We'll have to correct that, won't we?"

[shokopan]

LOVING BEFORE WE EVEN KNEW HOW TO | I. MATSUKAWA ⤷ timeskip!matsukawa x fem!reader // 1.9k words

matsukawa’s jaw slacks involuntarily at the sight of your familiar silhouette standing in front of the restaurant he was headed towards. his breath halts as you nervously check the time on your phone, glancing around at the passerby as if you were trying to identify someone you didn’t have sufficient information about. an odd pit forms in his stomach as matsukawa realizes you’re likely waiting on date, given your attire which, he admittedly wants to pause and admire and feels strangely bothered by when he thinks about how its for some stranger.

though seeing his ex-girlfriend quickly snaps matsukawa back to reality, reminding him that he too, was there for a blind date, which he was now likely late for thanks to hun foolishly choosing to spend his precious time observing you.

matsukawa sends a quick text to daishou, letting his classmate know he had arrived at the restaurant and to ask who his mystery date was. daishou’s reply is instantaneous, but the message is only shoddy description of their attire that reads: navy blue something, black boots, looks cool according to mika idk its her friend?

shit, you’re his date.

mustering up all the courage he has, matsukawa beelines in your direction, clearing his throat nervously as he calls out, “y/n, hey!”

matsukawa swears time stopped right at that exact moment, because for a split second, it felt like the world paused for a brief second to watch you in awe. he blinks for a moment, just admiring the way your clothes fit you, as if the fabric was sewn together for the purpose of complimenting your features.

“issei? what are you doing here?” you smile, a surprised, thankfully pleasant expression taking over your features. your welcome manner is a huge relief, as matsukawa instantly takes back the string of curses on daishou’s name he had been chanting in his head as his eyes lingered on the honeyed curve of your lips.

“you know mika?” he responds indirectly, a cheeky grin forming on his face as you tilt your head in confusion and nod before he clears his throat to clarify, “i’m pretty sure she and daishou set us up on a date,”

“oh! so you’re the guy that mika swore up and down i’d get along with and would be perfect for me,” you laugh, realizing that you had never really divulged your past dating history with your former roommate, “wait what the hell this is a crazy coincidence,”

“right, right,” matsukawa spreads his arms out, giving you a little 360 spin to showcase his outfit, “and mika was partially right, y’know? i am prettyy perfect, and well, she did kind of nail it considering that we did get along back in high school,”

 “sure, sure,” your roll your eyes, barely holding back the laugh that threatens to escape your lips, “let’s head inside first? i heard the food here’s pretty good,”

-

contrary to popular belief, finding yourself on a blind date with an ex isn’t all uncomfortable. in fact, you could even say that the date was the exact opposite, especially after the two of you got over the initial awkwardness of your history and not having seen each other in a while.

joking with matsukawa felt so natural. each clever joke either of you would quip was swiftly followed up by an equally hilarious response. references slipped out instinctively, and somehow without fail, you both got it, and would be followed up by a symphony of interminable laughter. 

and maybe it’s the way he leans in a little when you’re visibly excited to relay tales of your college life and easily relaxes back afterwards with a leisurely smirk that invites you to share more about the years he missed.

that, or it’s how he gives hyperbolic retellings of his adventures or misadventures with makki and odd incidents that occurred at work— which makes you question just what was normal about the things matsukawa encounters on a daily basis as a funeral home employee. the charisma oozing from his deep voice mixed with expressive eyebrows and waving hands as he jovially chastises his best friend for still being unemployed draws you in, mirroring his body language while he listened to you.

or is it the way the two of you ask inquisitive, genuine questions here and there, clearly wanting to know more and more, because the details provided aren’t enough. you’re both greedily drinking in these snapshots of each others lives, but you’re still parched. 

being around him was just so comfortable, so natural that you can’t help but let the question of why you two even broke up linger in your mind, and it’s clear that matsukawa was entertaining that thought as well. its evident in the softened corners of his eyes and how he scrambles for excuses to be with you for just a little longer than appropriate for a seemingly quick dinner date.

it’s past midnight now, and the two of you find yourselves in the living room of your apartment. while matsukawa diffidently sits on the couch and admires your furniture in awe, you conclude the root of why your relationship with matsukawa came to an end while brewing two mugs of coffee.

and as if he caught onto your revelation, he brings up the burning question plaguing both your minds.

“i don’t want to dismiss it as ‘we were just young’, but i think we just didn’t know better, you know? our understanding of the scope of world was just so limited,” you carefully answer, taking your time to string together your thoughts as you set down the cups. you slide into the space between the coffee table and couch and he follows suit, the both of you sitting on the ground with your legs huddled closed to your chest. he nods, listening intently as he clings onto every word you utter, searching for hints of a desire for more, something falling out of neutral ground to guide his hope.

“i mean, we weren’t a bad couple, at least i think so. but we were in high school. i don’t really think we even really understood the concept of loving someone romantically,”

“yeah, to be fair, i was also kind of a shit boyfriend,” matsukawa laughs, narrowing his eyes in faux suspicion as you quickly shake your head in dissent.

“you really weren’t! like honest to god, you were pretty good, especially for a high school boyfriend,” you grin, but it falters as your eyes shift and tone becomes a tad bit more serious, “but i mean you can’t shoulder too much unnecessary blame. i kind of had some insecurities and communication issues i had to work out that i didn’t have the confidence and mindset to do so back then”

matsukawa raises his eyebrows in surprise, unsure of what to do with this newfound information. this whole time, he’d been in belief that it was his neglect and immaturity that steered the relationship to failure.

“it’s better now, i think i’m in a healthy state now and i can handle a serious relationship, but god damn, i was so insecure in high school,” you furrow your eyebrows, shuddering a little at the memories of your adolescent self inflicted mental pains. matsukawa smiles softly at this, feeling a small burst of pride erupting from his chest.  

“yeah, i think i didn’t really know how to preserve a relationship,” matsukawa sighs, “i’d like to think that after gaining more experience, i now know how to be a proper boyfriend,” matsukawa supplies sympathetically, thinking back to his high school days.

he had never been too serious of a student, always knowing that he’d end up working at the funeral home that his uncle had been running for decades. back then, his only real worries consisted of volleyball and you, and while you absolutely were a priority, premature matsukawa still hadn’t grasped the concept of relationships requiring much work and effort, that he couldn’t just hang out with you on weekends and after practice with friends when it was convenient for his schedule. he didn’t understand why he had to put in the effort to see and be with you, evident in the way the two of you had mutually agreed to separate when the both of you attended universities in different areas, you attending the school of your dreams at handai in osaka, and him in the nearby junior college in furukawa, an easy commute from where he’s lived his whole life.

“but hey! glad that we’ve worked through our high school shit. i don’t think i got the full extent of stuff you were dealing with back then, but i knew it bothered you pretty badly. i’m proud of you, you know? working through that couldn’t have been easy” matsukawa shakes his head at the flurry of regrets.

“yeah, it’s cool y'know? not thinking that everyone secretly hates you and can’t stand being around you. it’s pretty liberating and makes me optimistic that i’d be a much better girlfriend to potential significant others than i was in high school,” you laugh, a small and sincere smile gracing your face. a brief pause falls upon the room as you and matsukawa bask in the revelations and growth the two of you made in the past few years spent apart.

“do you think we would have stayed together if we met at a later time?” matsukawa breaks the silence, glancing down nervously before meeting your eyes once again. it’s borderline comedic how timid he seems for a 6’3, typically smug and laid back guy, though he’d attribute his current disposition to the fact that you make him feel like a stupidly smitten high school boy again. 

“probably? i don’t know issei, but i think we loved each other before we even knew how to love,” you muse, resting your chin on your palm and leaning your body a little closer to him. you’re not dense, the idea of a rekindling wasn’t far from the cacophony of thoughts running through your mind, but  you wanted to gauge his reactions first before doing anything brash. 

“but do you want to test that?” he asks, voice low while and maintaining steady eye contact. you nod silently, and the two of you stay like that briefly, waiting for the other to make a move.

fuck it, matsukawa thinks, and he lets his thoughts spill out to you, “because i do. i want to take you out on a proper date, with flowers and shit to do things right,”

he’s let you go once, and now that he’s in your life again, even just for a day, he’d never forfeit this golden opportunity again. he wouldn’t make those idiotic decisions he made then, and he’d work to rectify those past mistakes and treat you the way you deserved to be treated all along.

“matuskawa issei! are you saying you’re interested in me?” you jokingly gasp, ending your sentence on a higher, dramatic note. your eyebrows are raised and your grin is incredibly wide that it hurts your cheeks

“yeah” he grins, catching the tone of your voice as he exhaled a breath of both relief and incredibly childish eagerness, “i am,”

you smile and matsukawa hesitantly scoots closer to you until your sides touch. you take this as an invitation and guide his arms around your shoulder as you rest your heads against each other as you whisper, “good. i’d love to,”

[maknaeswrld]

the way i loved you | m.yg

wc: 2.2k

genre: song fic; lovers to strangers; rebound!bang chan (sorry bby);

cw: rebound!Bang Chan; relationship arguments; it feels a lil toxy but understand I only wrote the tail ends of their relationship and it’s based on a Taylor Swift song; open ending

a/n: just a lil thought that tickled my brain on a roadtrip when I heard The Way I Loved You (Taylor’s Version)

“Here, let me get that for you.” Chan said with that breathtaking smile of his as he pulled the door open for you.

“Thank you.” You smiled back.

“You look absolutely stunning tonight.” 

His hand was placed respectfully on your mid back, guiding you gently through the restaurant.

“You don’t look too bad yourself.”

It didn’t take the two of you long to find your table.

“Y/n!” Lia squealed, rushing to hug you. Giggling, you threw your arms around her.

“It’s been too long!”

“Agreed. We need to work on that.”

Pulling away, Lia turned to your guest, sticking a hand out to introduce herself.

“I’m Lia, the best friend. You must be Chris.”

He accepted her hand, smile lighting up the room.

“I am. Y/n’s told me a lot about you.”

Lia’s eyebrow raised as she looked back over at you.

“All the terrible things, I’m sure.”

He just smiled, taking the joke in stride.

The night went on a little too easily. Conversation flowing easily, the atmosphere comfortable. Chan picked up the bill and offered to order an uber for Lia, to which she rejected, looping her arm through yours instead.

“Well, it’s been a great evening, but if you don’t mind, I’m gonna be taking our girl with me. We have a bit of catching up to do.”

“I don’t mind at all. It really was great to finally meet you.” He smiled at Lia before looking at you. “Call me when you get home?” He asked, you nodded in agreement and he grinned, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips. “You two ladies enjoy the rest of your night then.”

You both watched on as he walked away.

“Damn, he has a great ass.” Lia commented, whistling in appreciation.

You laughed, smacking her shoulder. “Don’t catcall my boyfriend.”

“I’m just callin’ it like I see it love. And that man has a fine ass. But he’s got an even better personality, like damn girl, talk about moving up in the world.”

“I mean I guess you could say that. He does respect my space. And he’s always on time, and he’s charming.”

“He could be charming when he wanted to.” You didn’t need her to clarify who he was.

“And he’s sensible, you know.” You continued, ignoring her attempt at getting you to talk about what was really at the tip of your tongue. “He always has an answer to everything. He’s genuine with me, it’s all perfectly comfortable.”

“But…?”

But.

Because of course there’s a but when it comes to such a seemingly perfect guy. 

The lights were giving you a headache, you thought if you had to talk to one more stranger you’d pour your drink on their head or start crying. 

You’ve dated Yoongi long enough to know this is just how nights like these go, that once it’s been long enough that he won’t get in trouble with his management for leaving, he’ll wrap an arm around you and swish you away.

You just kept smiling, having perfected the show smile early on in your relationship. You stayed close to any of the boys you could find. You sat with Jungkook for a while before he wanted to dance, you’d found a corner with Tae and Jimin, which lasted until Jin called them over for a conversation he’d been having with some snobby looking people. All in all, these events were possibly your least favorite thing that came with dating a member of a world famous group.

You were ready to excuse yourself to the bathroom for the duration when a hand found its home on your lower back. Almost too low to be appropriate.

“What’s a gorgeous thing like you doing all alone?”

Smiling, you turned towards him, looping your arms around his shoulders in a way that you knew seemed dainty.

“I believe that’s the first real smile I’ve seen out of you all night. Is this really that miserable?”

“I just don’t feel very good. I’m ready for my pajamas and maybe a tub of ice cream.”

“And an episode of our show?”

You couldn’t help but grin at that. “Oh absolutely.”

“Perfect. Okay, let me say goodbye to the boys and let my manager know we’re leaving. I’ll be right back. I love you so much.” Placing a gentle kiss on your nose, he squeezed you once before releasing and moving further into the room.

The flash of cameras turned your attention away from him and you waved shyly, keeping a polite smile plastered in place and knowing the media will be eating up such a tender moment of the Suga. You put on a show for them anytime you knew the cameras were turned to you, knowing the tenderness they catch a mere glimpse of is your reality everyday.

“Hey! That door was shut for a reason.” You grumbled.

“Yeah, to keep everyone else out.” Yoongi said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Exactly. Everyone else.”

“That’s what I just said?”

“Everyone includes you, Yoongs.”

He just shrugged before making himself comfortable on your bed.

You rolled your eyes, huffing in annoyance. “You know, girls have boundaries, right?”

“I know. I just don’t see you actually setting them. Do you want me to leave, Y/n?”

“Oh fuck off.” You responded, shoving his shoulder.

“That’s not a yes.”

“I can’t stand you.”

He just laughed, pulling you into his chest and kissing the top of your head.

“I don’t understand what the big deal is.”

“The big deal is that you spend more time cooped up in your studio than you do with me, Yoongi.”

“You knew what you were getting into when we started dating.”

“And I’m not asking you to change, I just,”

“Well damn, Y/n. It kinda feels like you are. I can’t just stop doing my job because you’re feeling needy.”

“I’m not asking you to! I’m not. I am just asking you to act like you give two shits about your girlfriend once in a while and show up when we make dinner plans!”

You watched as his eyes slowly widened in realization. “That was tonight?”

Sighing, you turned and opened the door to his studio, already halfway out. “Yeah, Yoongs. That was tonight.”

You were outside and walking down the cold rainy street when Yoongi caught up to you. 

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Not like you care.”

“Come one, don’t say that. You know I care.”

You stopped and turned on your heel, causing him to almost run into you.

“It doesn’t really feel like it right now Yoongi.”

“I’m sorry I forgot about our dinner plans,” You scoffed, turning to continue walking. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care and it definitely doesn’t mean I’m just gonna let you wander around in the rain and get sick!”

“You wouldn’t even know I was out in the rain if I hadn’t come to your studio.”

He reached out, hand enclosing gently around your wrist and tugged you back into him. 

“You’re absolutely right. Because I would’ve assumed my beautiful girlfriend was safely in our home curled up on our couch or in our bed, all cozy and perfect because you love rain but hate going out in it. But now that I do know you’re out in it, I’m not gonna just let you get yourself sick.”

You didn’t know how to respond, eyes flitting between his hand and his eyes, which were so soft and earnest, your lip stuck between your teeth. Sighing, you finally felt your body begin to relax.

“I’m still mad at you.”

“And you have every right to be.”

You nodded, reaching a hand up to clasp around his, “Do you have an umbrella?”

He blanched. All color draining from his face before he flushed bright red. “No…”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, grinning as you pulled him in closer for a kiss.

His hands quickly found their home around your waist, pulling you closer to him. And you relished in the warmth of his body against yours, at war with the cold rain hitting the rest of your exposed skin and seeping into your clothes. You brushed some wet clumps of hair out of his eyes after pulling away.

“Take me home, Yoongs.”

You stared blankly out the car window as you watched lights from buildings pass by, the air thick with tension but you had no interest in being the one to break the silence. Yoongi’s knuckles were almost white from how tightly he was gripping the steering wheel.

You felt his eyes on you for a moment before you heard his tongue click against the top of his mouth in a tsk.

“Are you gonna say anything?”

You spared him a glance before locking your eyes back on the window.

“Got nothing to say.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie, Y/n.”

“We’re both upset and talking right now will just lead to more arguing.”

“Then let’s argue, Y/n. We’re in a relationship, people in relationships argue. I’d rather have a million arguments with you than have you feel like you can’t talk to me.”

You scoffed a laugh, finally dragging your eyes away from the window. 

“I don’t want to argue, Yoongi. I’m so tired of arguing. I just want to be able to enjoy time with my boyfriend without wondering if there’s going to be something that sets one or both of us off.”

“I’m leaving.”

“What?” His voice was so soft, almost non existent despite the silence of your shared apartment. The place you’d called home for so long.

“I love you. I love you so much it hurts sometimes. I just can’t do this anymore, Yoongi.”

Y/n watched as he bit at his lip nervously, brown eyes shiny with tears. He closed them, looking up at the ceiling and taking a deep breath.

When he looked at you again, you felt all the air rip out of your lungs.

“I love you too, Y/n.”

He pulled you closer, kissing you with as much emotion as he could put into it. You looped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him flush against you. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and kissed him until your body was protesting.

“I will always love you.”

When you pulled away, you touched your forehead to his, refusing to open your eyes and see the turmoil in his.

“Goodbye, Yoongi.”

Taking a deep breath, you pulled yourself out of his arms, ignored his voice calling your name, and walked away.

“But he doesn’t know me. He can’t tell when I’m faking a smile. He doesn’t really get my jokes. He doesn’t break my heart.”

“That one doesn’t sound like a bad thing, Y/n.”

“It is though! He doesn’t break my heart because I don’t really feel anything at all. He’s just, fine. He’s quite possibly the kindest, most generous man I’ve ever met. I literally could not ask for a better guy. But he’s not,”

“Yoongi.”

You nodded, shoulders slumped as you admitted to your best friend the thing you’d been struggling to admit to yourself for so long.

“I feel like I’m just stringing him along and wasting his time all because I can’t get over the man that I couldn’t make it through a week without fighting with. I miss him, Lia. I miss how batshit crazy he made me feel, I miss the screaming and fighting and making up, I miss him. I miss the way I loved him. And I don’t even know where he is or what he’s up to. I’m dating the world’s most considerate man, and I feel nothing because I just keep comparing him to Yoongi. And despite the hell he put me through, Yoongi always wins.”

Lia’s eyes were filled with pity, which would drive you crazy in any other situation, but you needed someone to be sympathizing at that moment.

“What if I could tell you where he was?”

Your head shot up at your friends words.

Lia shrugged. “I kept in touch. He was my friend too, y’know?”

Uncertain on if you wanted to cry or squeeze your friend out of joy, you just nodded.

With a raised brow, Lia’s lips quirked into a crooked smile as she pulled out her phone.

It rang a few times before he answered, you held your breath as Lia chatted with him for a moment.

Before you could decide to back out, have her hang up, realize quite how bad of an idea this probably was, especially with Chris waiting on you to text him, Lia turned her phone to you and painfully familiar eyes locked on yours.

You were torn between wanting to reach over and end the call, or curl up and talk for hours, basking in his addictive attention

He looked good. His hair was a little longer than he used to keep it, messy from where he’d probably been running his hands through it while working on a song. You wanted to reach out and smooth it down.

“Y/n.” His voice sounded stuck in his throat. Like he couldn’t fully believe he was saying your name to your face. And you were drawn in, throwing caution and sense to the wind.

“Hi, Yoongi.”

a/n: in my mind, there is no cheating, they just chatted some that night, Y/n called Chan the next day and they sat down together and she told him everything and they very maturely agreed it wasn't going to last much longer anyways and Chan encouraged her to get her mans. I do have somewhat of a sequel in mind if anyone would want that but I also think this is a perfect little short fic in its own right lol.

thanks for reading and as always let me know what you thinks!

[howlingday]

nother crack idea for jaune's exes: artoria pendragon has come to beacon to bring back her love to the safety of their little village! she knows jaune's dream is to be a hero but between his father giving him no training and him not getting into a combat school she worries about him, the only solution is to bring him back home for her to train in safety until he's ready! NO THIS HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH HER WANTING TO EAT HIS COOKING! SHE'S DOING THIS FOR NOBLE REASONS!

"I SEEK THE HAND OF JAUNE ARC!"

The classroom had gone hush with the sudden announcement of the young, blonde woman in armor. The target of this stranger had a mixture of reactions, including the reddening of his cheeks and the swiftness of his hand to his face. The woman made her way down the steps to where Jaune was sitting.

"Jaune, I command you to return home at once!"

"Please, no..." Jaune groaned.

"Excuse me, young lady, but I'm afraid you'll have to wait until class is over to-"

"BE SEATED!" Professor Port responded to this decree by immediately sitting at his desk. "It is rude to interrupt the royal business of a king."

"Aren't you a girl, though?" Cardin asked, brow raised at the intruder.

"BE STILL!" A roar proclamation erupted, forcing Cardin to fall backwards, mouth held shut. "Jaune, I command-"

"I refuse." Jaune said, knocking the woman off-guard. "Also, I'm attending Beacon."

"Jaune, who is this?" Pyrrha asked, confused by the casual way Jaune spoke to the stranger after watching her emasculate both Professor Port and Cardin Winchester. As annoying as it was, both were two of the most masculine people in the room, yet the woman shut them both down, only thrown off her high horse by the response of her team leader. "Do you know her?"

"Yeah." Jaune nodded. "She's my ex." Gasps resounded throughout the classroom. "Why is everyone so surprised?"

"Because it's you?" Weiss answered.

"Because she's so scary!" Ruby replied, putting up her hands in and waving them in defense when the woman glared at her. "Uh, not scary in a bad way!"

"What other way is scary supposed to be taken?" Blake asked.

"Er, when- when you say ex, do you mean ex-friend, or ex-lab partner, or ex-"

"Girlfriend." The woman answered. "And I refuse your claim."

"You said you were fine when we broke up." Jaune clarified. "You even said that you were thinking about travelling around a bit, too."

"Yes, and I did travel around as we discussed." She held an armored hand to her heart. "I've seen many things on my journey, but all of them paled when compared to you." This brought about a coo from the classroom, taken in by the romantic statement. It seemed she genuinely cared about him.

"You got hungry for my cooking again, didn't you?" The classroom nearly fell on their face.

"N-No! Of course not!"

"Then why did you suddenly decide to come find me here at Beacon?" Jaune held up a finger. "A good king doesn't lie to their people."

"Ghk!" The woman flinched. "I... You are correct. I did feel hungry for your cooking again."

"Uh-huh, I thought so."

"But regardless of my reasoning, I still intend to complete my mission!"

"If you're hungry, then just wait until class is over. It's almost lunchtime."

"No, that's not why I'm here." She dropped to one knee. "Jaune Arc, will you do me the honor of becoming Mr. Artoria Pendragon?"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" The class was in shock. Partially from the proposal by Artoria, but also from the refusal of this act by not Jaune Arc, but his partner, Pyrrha Nikos. All eyes fell on her and felt the urge to shrink back from them, but when her green eyes fell to those of the woman holding Jaune's hand, such urges dispersed. "Jaune Arc is a student of Beacon Academy and the leader of Team JNPR. I refuse to allow you to strip him of him of both titles and responsibilities just so you can eat."

"And who are you to challenge the King of Knights?" Artoria asked, standing tall against her foe.

"My name is Pyrrha Nikos, the partner of Jaune Arc." Though the word held different meanings, in this instance Pyrrha's words held them in their most simplest form. Even if Pyrrha wished they meant something deeper. "And I refuse to allow you to take him away from me."

[yooglefics]

The casual type: 01 . The blind date

Pairing: Min Yoongi x fem!reader  Wordcount: 2,888 words Genre ( for the whole series ): AU. College!verse. Strangers to friends with benefits to ?????. Eventual smut. Hurt / comfort at times. And fuff for cute friends. Summary: Hobi and his girlfriend set you up with a friend of hers to help with whatever happened months back. However no one really expected things to end the way they did.

Warnings ( for this chapter ): Setting things up for plot purposes. Gridding? Mentions of a boner. Making out.  Author's note: So, I wanted to write some friends with benefits thing, plus a bunch of art kids… and this came out ┐( • ֊ • )┌ . I should note here I took the creative liberty to play around with their ages so everyone is in college at the same time, and if you haven't, you can check the presentation post and learn a little bit more about them. Now let's start, hope you like it! If you do you can reblog, like, comment, send an ask, follow and what not. Thank you for reading <3

The place is quieter than the last time you were here, you realize, is earlier in the day and the semester just started after all, meaning students are still moving in from their home cities. And although you want to be mad at him, you can't really blame Hoseok's choice of place for a date, instead, you're already thinking of ways to be able to escape the awkwardness of it all.

Of course, he and Mai don't have to worry about that. Is not their first date and considering they're both dance students it actually makes sense for them to be in a club on a friday night. Is their element, unlike yours, who hasn't left their room for the last couple of weeks if it's not to go art-supply shopping and will spend even weekends far away from a place like this.

But you couldn't say no. Not to Hobi. Not after he held you tight that night and didn't pray for an explanation.

He had come up with his own conclusions, though, and that's how you ended here. On a double date with Mai and her friend who you don't even know, so... Yay! Blind date added to the mix of reasons why you already want the night to end.

"You made it!" Mai greats when the both of you get closer to the bar, standing up to hug you first and then her boyfriend. "We ordered something while waiting."

Your friend nods at the explanation, "What do you want?" He asks in your direction and you settle for a fruity cocktail to not look too out of place with everyone else drinking. Mai insists on going with Hobi and he insists you stay, so, a bit awkwardly, you take the stool besides your date.

"Yoongi, by the way." The guy simply introduces himself before taking a sip of his drink.

"Y/n" short, overthinking if bowing is too formal until you decide is too long of a pause and it would only make it more awkward. In the end, a soft smile is your decision.

"They look cute together," you say looking at your friends, trying to break the silence that has fallen between.

"Listen," Yoongi begins, and your head turns to him, "I'm only here because she asked, so if you're expecting something like that, let's just leave."

"Like that?" Brows slightly closer, "a cute relationship?"

"A relationship in general. I don't do those."

"Oh..."

And before you can say anything else, Hobi is placing a glass in front of you, smiling reassuringly. "You'd be okay if I go dance now?"

A pause and then a nod is the answer. Not having any intentions of spoiling their night.

"Don't worry. Yoongi," Mai turns to him, a serious expression on her soft features, "you better take care of her, alright?"

He salutes, earning a smile from the couple and they walk to the dance floor hand in hand. You watch them make some silly moves at first and giggle, but it doesn't take long before they start to follow the beat and match it with their movements.

"I don't want a relationship either," you clarify, tone assertive, still looking at the couple with a smile.

He laughs, "I'm sorry, but that's hard to believe."

"Why?"

"Look at me and tell me you didn't just imagine yourself with someone on that dance floor."

You turn to him, brown eyes inspecting yours, "Well, yes. But that doesn't mean I want it to happen with someone I'm in a relationship with."

Again, he laughs. Clearly not believing you.

"What? People do casual things all the time," you defend, straightening your back and looking away.

"You do 'casual things'?" His eyebrows raise, "all the time?"

"Shut up, you don't know me."

"That's a no," no need to look at him to know there's a smirk playing on his lips.

"Who are you? Some kind of hook up police or something?" You want to take it back as soon as it leaves your mouth, cringing.

"Are you gonna show me your license?" but he is faster.

"Okay, that was more lame than what I said," you laugh. Maybe he is not as grumpy as he seems. And maybe, just maybe, you would be able to enjoy the night after all. 

If he doesn't want a relationship either, then you don't have to deal with rejecting him or being forced to accept a second date just because you're too kind to say no. That's good.

"Yoongi, hey!" A guy calls out and for a split second your date's expression changes to a surprise one before a polite smile takes place on his face. "Oh, hi. Sorry for interrupting, haven't seen him in months."

"Is alright," you play along even when not understanding.

"I guess he has been busy with yo—"

"Jay," Yoongi's tone is serious, like the one he used to say he doesn't do relationships. However, before he can continue or you are able to clarify that you two just meet, Jay is calling someone over.

"Look who I found, love. Yoongi!"

A redhead girl repeats Yoongi's early expression and you wonder two things about Jay. One: if he always has that effect on people. And two: if he is even more clueless than you in this whole situation, since his smile never falls.

"Hi," the redhead says and Yoongi greets back just as plain.

Are you really imagining the awkwardness? Perhaps you were wrong and in the end you should put one of your plans to avoid it into place?

A few seconds of thinking go by, no one says anything and you could swear the tension is filling the air around your new  group.

"Oh, that's the song!" Fake excitement in your voice tricks everyone into looking at you. "I promise, remember? If it comes on, we'll dance."

Yoongi looks confused for a second, but it doesn't take him long to finally understand, "right, the song. Sorry guys, been waiting all night."

Jay dismisses him smiling with a pat on the back, saying something about not breaking promises and Yoongi takes your hand.

Looking around, you try to find your friends, hoping to copy Mai's moves and keep up with the plan even when you're a self proclaimed not dancer. But they aren't in sight and even if you can't really prove it since your back is facing them, you feel like Jay's and the girl's eyes are on you.

Ugh. Why did you use this plan?

Why was this something you even thought about?

When Yoongi stops and positions himself in front of you, you get closer, sliding an arm on top of his shoulders pretending you're positioning yourself to dance, copying the random couple beside you.

"I don't know what I'm doing," you confess in a whisper.

"What do you mean?” He looks for your eyes, hair strain coming out of place when his head lowers a little, "you want to go back and sit down?"

"No, then they would know I lied," you're still trying to figure out why in the first place and don't need the embarrassment too, "but I don't know how to dance."

He chuckles, "here, I'll help." And holds your hips softly, moving them to the beat of the song, matching your movements with his own. "Relax. Don't think too much about it."

"If I don't, how do I know how to move?" It doesn't make sense and is a bit frustrating, honestly.

"Is not a dance competition, or the grant ball, princess. Just do what feels right."

He catches you looking at your feet and brings you closer, eliminating the gap between your bodies completely. "Don't do that," one of his hands travels to the small of your back, keeping you in place.

"Sorry," you say against his neck. Not intentionally, but because of your height difference, there's no other option. In an effort to not be so dependent on him, both your arms move around his neck and you try to move your hips in a way that in the end doesn't match his movements completely, causing you to bum into his front. He makes a sound that you assume is a complaint at your skills and another apology rolls through your lips.

"Turn around," Yoongi commands, applying pressure to one side of your hip.

You comply, confused even when you feel his hands on your waist. "Well, I'm going to assume you been fucked before, miss casual all the time," with his chest against your back, you can feel his laugh. "Open your legs a little," one of his feets kicks gently between yours, fixing your stand. "You want to lead or should I?"

"...You." Is the safest, you decide. Your turn to assume he surpasses your experience at that too.

“Some describe dancing like a good fuck," he explains, hands softly making their way a bit lower to your hips, "because you have to learn your partner. Find a rhythm together." His movements start slow, moving your body with his from side to side, with small circles of the hips.

Your hands fall on top of his, not knowing what else to do with them. They're soft, which for some reason is unexpected.

"I have dancer friends and they never described it like that..."

"Not to you, probably," he laughs and when you stop the movements to throw an angry look his way — because you're pretty sure that's some kind of insult,— he chuckles, before continuing the swaying of your hips. "Calm down, princess. I meant, they probably just weren't teaching you this kind of dance."

And that makes sense. You can't imagine dancing with your friends like this. You can barely believe you're doing it with a stranger.

Your shyness must have shown, because his next question is why did you even choose this song.

"I was trying to help and get you away from whatever that was," you lift your head, eyes away from your feet and the color lights projecting on the floor, and sure enough, behind red bangs, the girl is looking in your direction.

Your hips halt.

Yoongi catches up a bit too late, bumping his pelvis into you.

"What ar—"

"She is looking." Cutting him off, you want to hide as if you were the one caught doing something she wasn't supposed to. So, you try to turn around on his arms but his hold is firm.

A new song starts, the rhythm not much different.

"Help me with another song?"

You try again, this time using your hands on top of his to soften the grip. He gives in. And after a look at his face, you nod.

You can decide if it's sadness or anger that you see, not knowing him well enough to tell — or at all, to be honest — but either way, there's a part of you that can relate. One for each emotion.

Throwing your hair back, letting all black strands fall over your back, your arms go back over his shoulders, this time your chest flush against him a little more than last.

Yoongi says thanks and you kiss his cheek as his hands hold you again. His movements are more determined and even his fingers form dents over the fabric of your dress.

Assuming his demeanor changed only for the specific viewer doesn't sound too crazy, and you want to confirm the theory by looking at his face, see if he is looking behind you at her. Your eyes travel against the direction the few sweat drops over his skin go, and when they reach Yoongi's, he is looking back at you.

Your body stops.

"Fuck" he whispers when the front of his pelvis bumps yours. "You really need to stop doing that."

"Sorry. Told you I can't dance."

He chuckles.

Your bottom lip forms a small pout. "Don't be mean. I'm trying to help you, remember?" And you initiate the movements again, starting to get the hang of it. Kind of.

"You're not much help right now if you keep making me dry hump into you," this time he is the one stopping, making it so you bump into his front and you can feel the outline of his growing erection.

"Yoo—"

"Exactly," he says so matter of fact, "you're the mean one."

Lowering your head, you try to not think too much about it. It doesn't make you want to run away or kick him, but you also don't want to make him feel like kicking you away. You keep repeating to yourself that is normal with this type of dance, that there's probably more than one hard on at the club right now and how you're probably not the only one who is getting we—

Damn it. Just stop thinking about it.

Yoongi stops your body from moving, and when you realize he has been calling your name, you're even more embarrassed by your thoughts.

"I'm sorry. That was too much, I shouldn't have. We can go sit now." His eyes are looking straight at you, letting you know he's being sincere.

"I need some air."

Without even bothering to wait for a confirmation that he is following or not, you make your way to the side door of the club. The autumn breeze hits your skin as soon as you step into the alley, instantly calming your hormones down.

Hands cover your face in shame after reclining on the wall. Can you stop acting like it was the first time you felt a penies? Because even if it hasn't happened in a while, it doesn't mean the score goes back to zero.

"Should I bring Hoseok?" Yoongi asks a few steps in front of you and you jump a little, shaking your head after.

"I'm good. You can go back in."

"I'm not leaving you alone here. Do you want him or Mai to kill me?"

A small chuckle leaves your throat and one from him follows it.

"And you think he wouldn't kill you for—" stop. You can't think about it.

"For dancing like that with you? Probably. But he also set this date up, so..." Out of the corner of your eye you can see him shrug, "can't complain unless you hate me now."

"I don't hate you."

"Is okay if you do."

"It… it just surprised me."

"In a bad or good way?"

"A good one." You answer directly in a strain of honesty.

"So you're not really the casual type, uh?" He teases after a couple seconds of silence.

"Maybe I just don't like doing casual in the middle of the club," you defend.

"I don't know, you were the one that kept humping into me."

Your mouth opens and closes, finally looking at him and his stupid lips pull up in a smirk. You want to erase it so bad.

"Shut up."

"Make me."

And you do.

Skipping forward, right hand flying to the back of his neck to pull him in and you're able to touch his lips with yours.

He is quick to react. Kissing you back, his hands on either side of your waist pulling your body into his. But you're trying to prove a point, to defend yourself. So, you pull away slightly, making sure your lips are just about to touch.

He pulls in.

Allowing just a peck, you move.

You kind of regret not using your cherry lip gloss, because you know for sure that knowing you're so close for him to smell it but not taste it, would be the biggest tease.

You let him lean in again, not moving this time and he sighs. You smile against his lips just before his tongue asks for permission to enter your mouth. Again, you regret your simple choice of a simple red lip tint, but remind yourself that this date wasn't supposed to go like this. That Yoongi doesn't seem like the guy he was supposed to be, not what he was advertised by your friends.

Fighting back control, your left arm joins the other around his neck, moving your lips expertly and feeling his chest rise and fall quickly against yours. Is pretty much the position you were in on the dance floor minus the grinding.

Casual in the middle of the club is not your thing. Casual in general is actually not something you have experience with. But kissing? You've mastered it thanks to your past relationships and the avoidance of jumping into someone's bed right from the start.

A moan vibrates through your lips against Yoongi's, and even if it's part of the routine, you must admit is pretty real. A soft groan is his answer and the cue for your heels to touch the floor again. His hold tightens in reaction, making your dress rise up and covering a couple inches less of your thighs. Suddenly you're aware of the wind again as a breeze runs up your legs, towards the center of your panties.

Your breath caughts on your throat and Yoongi swallows any sounds before pulling away.

"Fuck," he breaths heavily, "we've to stop."

"Why? Are you not really the casual type?" You tease, stealing his line.

The left corner of his mouth lifts, before falling again in a millisecond. "Not with you."

Should I’ve added “cliffhanger” to the warnings? haha i swear is gonna be okayyyy ♡ Tag list: @n33mesis , @mggv97 , @wobblewobble822 , @bbou-doir , @m00njinnie , @nariee02 , @sexytholland . hope you guys like this one <3

➪ The squad. | ➪ 02 | ➪ Updates for this verse ➪ Ko-fi | ➪ ♡ Tag list info ➪ Main masterlist. | ➪ Updates in general | ➪ Request & chats

[1d1195]

Ding - Round 3

Read Ding here | ~6.5k words

Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff

Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.

From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕

Harry was mad.

Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.

He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.

Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.

He knew.

"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.

“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.

Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.

He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”

Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”

Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.

But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.

His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.

The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.

She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.

She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.

Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.

Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”

He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.

She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.

Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.

*

In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.

Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)

Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(

It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”

“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.

Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.

The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”

“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”

Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.

“I’m Maeve,” she announced.

“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a very cute niece.”

Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”

“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”

Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.

“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”

Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”

Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.

*

She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.

Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.

He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”

That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.

“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.

He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”

“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.

He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”

“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”

“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”

“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.

They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”

“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.

“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.

“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”

She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”

She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”

He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.

She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you please tell me?”

She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.

At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.

Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.

*

Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.

“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.

“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.

“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.

Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.

Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.

Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.

“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.

“Watch me?” He repeated.

“Not this again,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.

She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”

“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.

He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”

Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”

“I won’t be,” she shook her head.

That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.

When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.

He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.

“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”

She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.

“You’ll get there,” he assured her.

Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”

“No, you lunatic.”

“Coward.”

She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”

Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.

She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.

“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.

“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.

Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.

“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.

She really liked it.

*

After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.

Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.

Oh? 😍

Sorry, I know that’s...

A lot...

I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.

The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.

I like to keep him guessing a little 😉

Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.

Ding.

The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.

Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.

Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.

“She could make more, m’sure.”

Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.

Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.

Ding.

With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.

“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.

If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.

Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.

Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?

After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.

“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”

“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.

Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.

She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.

But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.

“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.

Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.

“Harry, please,” she whispered.

His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.

“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.

Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.

She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.

Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.

“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”

“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.

“It was such bad judgment.”

He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”

It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.

At the end, Harry pulled away from her.

Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.

“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.

He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.

"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.

She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”

She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”

He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”

He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.

*

“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”

“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.

“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”

She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”

“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.

“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”

“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”

“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.

For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.

“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”

“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”

She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.

She couldn't wait to see Harry.

--

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[qoldenskies]

what would ccDonnie be like when he's older in the good timeline?

ooo. thinking specifically as him in like late 20s to early 30s,,,,

i think he would, funnily enough, end up the "nice one" of the four (i think of any of them were that pre-curse it was raph because outside of combat he is noticeably respectful of manners and social rules, and he definitely still comes close in second place in cc). if any of them have kids (not sure if he will? maybe), he'd be the uncle they'd always go to ask to do things, because he'll usually say yes and wont get in hot water for enabling them. he doesn't really act chastising and he's not particularly stern, and there is a bit of that manic glee back. he'll support a little controlled chaos.

he's quiet and a bit of a people-watcher. sometimes the most fun he can have is to step back and watch them all go a little apeshit, without feeling like he's expected to match their energy. he's kind of awkward and quiet around strangers, occasionally standoffish and unintentionally blunt, but once you get him out of his shell a little he's comfortable talking. he'll probably ask a few times if he's talking too much or too loud, but when that energy is fostered he can go on for a long time.

he's still a giver, he's just more open about his intentions, he gets really nervous even well into adulthood when presenting things because that desperation for them to like it is there full-force. still a kicked puppy in the face of perceived rejection. he's pretty introspective and he takes to rationalizing and deconstructing his feelings to cope and self-soothe. he's probably gotten some therapy at this point because i imagine he'd be pardoned from his Various Crimes (<3) due to either the shredder or the kraang, it was just a long and arduous process to get citizenship and find the right one and be able to open up to them. it's not something that entered his life until recently, and it's really been helping.

he likes routines a lot. he's neurotic, still an obsessive cleaner. he likes to bake and his garden just seems to keep growing and growing it's getting out of control. he prefers to plan out his days hour-by-hour out of dislike for surprises and because it means he can plan a lot of outings ahead-- he can handle spontaneity, it just makes him nervous, unless it's a huge disruption, then he gets real upset lol.

talking to him is easy in the way that he's very polite and kind and appeasing, and hard in the way that he's quick to go on tangents and overly explain himself when he thinks he phrased something wrong, or to clarify vague phrasing or etc. he tends to talk in circles and gets nervous when he thinks he's been going on too long. he's effortlessly charming when you can actually get a conversation out of him, so i do think he's well-liked by almost everyone in his life. he's just a very easy person to like, but stressful as fuck to love. he does insist for his own independence and still struggles to reach out unless he needs to, "dont worry about [it/me]" probably comes out of his mouth more than anything else lmfao.

his bite has returned, but its,, subdued. him and raph dont really do it anymore, but he'll joke around with leo. it will come into full force with mikey though. he's the only person he'll get loud and proud around, mostly because the dynamic they've always had doesn't really make mikey get as overtly mean back. he just laughs along with it. the closeness they developed in cw is still very obvious. him and april also back to their older closeness (leo kind of stole his role as april's Official Number One Bestie but donnie TOOK IT BACK AHAHAHA), their relationship has significantly gentled. april likes to do exciting things, but donnie has become the best person to be around when she needs some quiet.

[psychotic-nonsense]

NOW WITH A PART 2 AND PART 3 !!!!

Not sure if this is anything, and feel free to critique or add on or clarify and all that, but...

A few weeks post-Starcourt Steve, absolutely wrecked by the Russians and Billy. He's healing, little by little, but he knows he needs to put his pain aside to help out The Party. Especially Robin, who has not been coping with the trauma well. She's taken to spending the night at Steve's most of the time, and they help each other manage. She's not the best with physical comfort, nor is Steve with verbal comfort, but they're managing.

Yet despite the constant offers of help, Steve always refuses to "ask for too much" and often downplays his pain, forcing a smile to keep anyone from worrying. He's bottling up everything - probably handling it worse than Robin, even though he insists he's used to it and knows how to fix himself. Every day he gets a little worse, and every night he brushes off help.

It's during one of these late nights that disaster finds them again. It's Steve and Robin in his living room, and they're just about falling asleep on the couch when the ground begins rumbling, hard. An earthquake, shaking Hawkins and getting the entire Party in a frenzy. The radios are blaring with the kids' voices and Steve's trying to get Robin to stop screaming into the walkie, when suddenly there's a hole opening up in Steve's living room, and the earthquake stops. Steve and Robin go quiet, and the kids are urging for a response as they all rush to meet up at Steve's.

But he and Robin can't speak, too busy staring at the hole. One that looks way too similar to the Gates... but it glows blue instead of the usual red. Steve, ever the protector, is carefully stepping around the hole to grab a fire poker for defense. The second he does, the Party bursts in, just in time to watch the hole suddenly crack open further, sucking Steve in and closing itself behind him-

As Steve Harrington lands in the bedroom of Post-ST3-release 2019 Eddie Munson.

Eddie's living rough, bunking in his childhood friend Ronnie's basement. An orphan, can't hold a job, in his second senior year of high school purely because he knows he has nothing else to do after it. His only source of comfort so far has been DnD - either the DM hosting he does at the local library for the other poor lost suckers, or the one Netflix show with its elements that has captured his heart.

Eddie's a pretty big Stranger Things fan - it has its faults but is otherwise a really fun and interesting show - but ever since ST2, he's especially been a Steve Harrington fan. He feels like he goes mad just thinking about the implications of what that man has gone through, what all those kids have been through, and how Steve has put aside himself to focus on the kids. How much Steve has changed, and how under appreciated he is.

Since binging all of ST3 the day it released, Eddie's had a field day on breaking down this newest reformation of Steve. He adores Robin - clocked her as a lesbian from episode 1 - and loves that Dustin and Erica have been bringing out his bitchy side, while still keeping him in check. The Russian torture and strange parallels with Billy have made him cry on more than one occasion, and Steve's half-high speech in the bathroom legitimately felt like Steve finally acknowledging his change, even if for but a moment.

Ronnie's teased Eddie way too much about his "obvious crush on Joe Keery" but this feels way too personal for him to just be crushing on an actor. This is Eddie falling for the Fallen King of Hawkins himself, and it's much more embarrassing. Steve Harrington becomes his muse in every form of art; drawing, writing, character inspiration and improvisation. The Duffer brothers aren't the greatest at the rest of the show, but they've damn well got this guy down.

Hell, Eddie was halfway to crossing the last personal barrier to outright obsession (x Reader fanfiction) when the earthquake hit. In hindsight it wasn't the worst thing in the world, but Eddie had never experienced one before. He immediately dove right under his bed, covering his ears and curling up in a ball like a coward ("Nancy Wheeler would be ashamed," his weird ass brain supplies). He hears rumbling, things falling over, wood splintering and the world seemingly cracking apart all around him-

When a body suddenly lands hard on his bed with a loud scream of fear, cutting off as the whatever it is rolls straight off to the floor, and the world gives one final strain before going completely silent.

Terrified, Eddie's eyes are shut tight, cowering as the body on the floor just a foot away from him groans and gasps for air. It takes a sudden hiss of pain for Eddie to finally, carefully, crack one eye open.

Only to come eye to eye, through the gaps of his bedsheets, with the very muse he'd just been thinking of. Steve Harrington.

There's an immediate scramble of panic; Eddie bashing his skull into his bed frame trying to get out and away from the obvious hallucination, while Steve wobbles on his feet to defend himself against this strange humanoid Upside Down monster.

"What are you?! Where am I?!"

"What am- Are- You- No, you're not real- JESUS H. CHRIST MAN, GET THAT AWAY FROM ME!"

"I don't know what you're talking about, but you're gonna see how real this is if you don't tell me what's going on!"

"You think I know?! You fell into my room!!"

"Yeah, from your Gate!!"

"WHAT FUCKING GATE- WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT!?"

"I DON'T FUCKING KNOW!!"

That gets them both to shut up, just staring at each other. Eddie pressed up against the wall in fear with his hands up and out wide, Steve with the fire poker pointed straight at his neck and his hand held up cautiously. Eddie sees it, smells blood in the air, and ignoring everything, reaches out for it. Steve jabs at the air with the poker, but it's halfhearted, his energy clearly draining, too exhausted with the whole situation to try much further. Finally his arm drops, but Eddie doesn't move, watching Steve's face crumple in a way that aches everything inside his heart.

"Where am I...?" Steve pleas, tone just as desperate as the one from the Russian bunker, even when lacking its power.

Eddie fumbles for the words, but eventually just sighs. "Somewhere you wouldn't believe, my friend."

High and complacent on adrenaline and shock, Steve and Eddie just move in silence. Eddie grabs a wet cloth to clean the blood, Steve cutting off a bit of his sweatpants to use as gauze. It's just a gash from falling with the fire poker, nothing drastic, but the two stare at the cut in Steve's palm, easier to see than the one who's hand is on theirs.

Introductions are exchanged when they can finally stop shaking, and Eddie somehow drops the bomb on where and when Steve is, and what his entire existence is to this reality. Steve has a very brief existential panic attack about it, but is strangely comforted by Eddie's confidence about it all - "Even without El's powers, those kids are smart as hell. They'll figure out a way to make their own Gate and get you back home."

Then Steve just spends the next week or two in a reality almost 40 years in the future, where he and his entire existence is a sci-fi TV show. Some funny exchanges I've been thinking of:

Steve: Wait, so we're characters in a show, right? That means we have actors.

Eddie: Oh, uh, yeah, you do...

Steve: ...Think I could see them?

Eddie: Uh- Sure, I guess? Not sure what you're expecting, it's a live action thing, they look just like you.

Steve: Never getting used to your future phone... Huh, Joe Keery? Looks like a cool guy- woah, is that what my hair looks like short??

Eddie: Yup, again, literally just you.

Steve: Funny how we both have the most basic names too. Steve and Joe? Like, look at Dustin's actor, what kind of name is Gaten?

Eddie: Rude, the guy plays your little brother.

Steve: Quit bringing your fake show theories into my actual life.

Eddie: It's true though.

Steve: ...Yeah.

----------------

(Steve goes crazy after a few days of being locked in, and begs Eddie to take him out to "see the future." While they're walking around town, a group of girls suddenly freak out and rush them)

"It's Joe Keery! Guys, look it's Steve Harrington, from Stranger Things!!"

(Eddie's halfway to panicking, but Steve immediately handles the situation)

Steve: Sorry to disappoint, ladies, not him. Don't worry though, I've been getting that a lot since the show came out.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry! Hope we didn't make you uncomfortable, mister..."

Steve: Mark, and not at all! I get asked this a lot too, but do you girls want a picture? For bragging rights, getting to meet "The Steve Harrington?"

(They agree, Eddie takes it for them, the girls go on their way)

Eddie whispering: That's gonna be everywhere in 5 seconds, I hope you know.

Steve whispering: Eh, it's a crowd my actor didn't have to deal with. Besides, felt pretty good.

Eddie: Familiar experience?

Steve: For a better reason.

-------------

Steve, showing Eddie's laptop screen open to the FunkoPop website and the Scoops Duo, halfway to tears: They make figurines of me and Robin?

Eddie: Yeah, of all you guys. I've got a little Dustin on my desk.

Steve, beginning to cry from how adorable he finds it: YOU DO?

---------------

(Ronnie comes back from work early while Steve and Eddie are talking in the living room. Eddie freezes as Steve makes eye contact, and Ronnie just stares)

Ronnie: Um, hi?

Steve: Oh, hey! You must be Eddie's roommate, nice to finally meet you! I'm Mark.

(That allows a breath to finally enter and escape Eddie's throat in a bit of a laugh. Steve's really leaning into this Mark persona)

Ronnie: Ronnie, and likewise... Sorry if I'm acting weird, you're just a really good cosplayer. Thought you were actually Steve for a second.

Steve hesitantly: Nah, just a doppleganger.

Ronnie, shrugging and walking away: Well okay then, I'm way too tired to talk much more. Eds, just keep your nerd shit out of the sink-

Eddie: And stay quiet, yeah yeah, go rest, breadwinner.

(Ronnie goes upstairs, out of earshot)

Steve whispering: What's a cosplayer?

Eddie, suddenly also very tired: Tell you later.

I'm thinking that Eddie had sketchbooks, notebooks, and Word Docs absolutely stuffed full of ST character evaluation, which he immediately hid upon Steve's arrival. Maybe Steve gets bored when Eddie's out for whatever reason, and snoops around. That's when he finds it all crammed at the back of Eddie's closet. The kids, Nancy, Jonathan, Robin, Joyce, Hopper, hell Billy and Murray are in the pile. Drawings of them in their adventures, active and mundane alike. Pages upon pages of character description, Eddie's handwriting gushing about the parts of the show and characters he loves, hates, wishes was fixed, all of it.

But the part that gets Steve is one specific sketchbook and notebook, both dubbed the Steven Soliloquy. It's the same type of information as before, but only about him, and it's filled to the brim. Eddie talking about his development, his change of heart, the complete shift that Nancy and the Upside Down and the kids allowed him to have. The affects of his trauma, and how much he stuffed it down in favor of everyone else. Talked about his relationships, ones he cherishes, loathes, never thought of or never got the chance to make. Talked about "AUs," alternative realities where he got everything he ever wanted. Eddie's words, his sketches, devolve into adoration-fueled envy, wishing he could be near such an amazing man, that he was strong enough to be such an amazing man. How much his heart aches for Steve.

And if this were a normal situation, Steve would be uncomfortable, creeped out. But knowing the context of it all, Steve can't help but be enamored. That his family's journey, his entire story of survival - even when fictional to Eddie - is so valued makes it all feel a little more worth it. That there was someone out there during all of their terror, rooting for their victory, crying with their pain, screaming with their fears, understanding them because he lived through it all right beside them.

Eddie finds Steve in his room later that day, surrounded by those books. Staring at what Eddie considers his WIP magnum opus; a half-finished colored pencil recreation of the Last Supper with the entire Party, including all of the people they lost, happy and healthy. Eddie's two seconds from apologizing for how creepy it all must be - seeing how many of those books are open - but then he sees the tears in Steve's eyes. Gratitude and adoration and care, all bundled up and very suddenly staring right at him with the widest smile he's seen.

They talk about it. Eddie finally admits his minor obsession with the show, and how much they've helped him come to terms with being a self-dubbed loser. He honestly gushes way too much about what he owes to them about his life, but Steve listens to it all with complete adoration. At the end of it, Steve asks Eddie about the possibility that they've been adamantly ignoring for Steve's entire stay: actually watching Stranger Things.

And that's how they spend their last week. Starting from season 1, they sit in the living room and binge the entire thing. Steve learns an entirely new perspective about his family's adventures, not only from the show's canon, but from Eddie's theories and rants in between monumental moments. Eddie holds his hand during the scenes that focus on his worst nightmares; the Demogorgan in the Byler home, the breakup, his fight with Billy, the Russians. Steve provides his perspective on how he felt during it all, finally admitting to the pain he's gone through instead of just focusing on the others hoping it'll all go away.

Not sure where exactly it goes from here. Maybe some codependency grows between them. Maybe Steve falls a little in love. Maybe they just stay friends, the only ones who understand each other aside from their Platonic Soulmates.

Maybe, when another earthquake finally hits, opening up a Gate in Ronnie's backyard, Steve and Eddie finally must go their separate ways. Eddie promising to keep watching over them from across the realm, Steve promising to make a happy ending for their story.

Or maybe, Steve can't help but see what little Eddie has, how special Eddie actually is, and offer to bring him along. Into the very show he loves so much. Maybe Eddie convinces Ronnie that he'll be okay, swearing to be entertaining should he join the show in an important way, and making her swear that if he doesn't survive to bring him back in as much fanfiction as she can write. Maybe Eddie enters Hawkins, Indiana, and becomes a bit self aware about being in a TV show. It takes a while for everyone to warm up to the future man - and for Eddie to get used to Midwestern US in the 80s - but he becomes a close member of the Party quite easily. Maybe his involvement in season 4, his death, is avoided, and maybe it's not.

But his adoration for Steve Harrington never goes away. Not in canon, or in fiction.

[wileys-russo]

I NEEEED a bf leah fic about going to NY with her because she has been pulling some ultimate looks. Maybe being at the basketball game with her and her trying to explain everything to you as well as being super touchy because she can feel people looking at what’s hers

jorts II l.williamson

"leah for the love of god please tell me i'm seeing things and you are not wearing prada loafers with nike tube socks right now." you shook your head in disbelief as you finished doing your hair and returned from the bathroom.

"you know how it is, prada or nada baby." the blonde grinned smugly from where she was sat on the edge of your hotel bed, putting down her phone as she drunk you in.

"come here." the taller girl purred, quickly standing to her feet and reaching out for you, taking your hands and whistling as she spun you in a circle.

"hello sexy." the defenders hands fell possessively to your hips as her eyes hungrily roamed your exposed cleavage spilling out of the lacey black bralette which just peeked out of the chocolate brown oversized button up you were wearing in place of a dress.

her pupils dilated at the black leather knee high boots which completed the look, jaw clenching as her tongue licked slowly at her lips making you smile smugly, adoring the obvious effect you had on her.

"oh god leah...jorts?" you groaned ruining the moment as your gaze flickered down to the washed denim which hung to her knees, pushing her away with a roll of your eyes.

"jorts are in at the moment love." the blonde retorted with her usual cocky smile, slipping on a few rings as you swapped over your earrings. "right to go?" leah offered you her hand, grabbing her phone off the bed as you slid your room key into your clutch.

"i hate that you can make anything look good."

~

"so we want the blue team to win right?" you clarified quietly, tapping at leahs hand which was placed on your thigh. "for once yes." leah chuckled, slender fingers tracing lines on your warm skin as she banged on about the rules, you only half listening as you simply hummed.

"at least try to pretend like you care darling." leah chuckled quietly offering you a sip of her drink as you tried to take the cup, giving her a look as she moved it back.

her eyes boring into yours expectantly you knew what she wanted, so with a roll of your eyes you lent forward allowing her to put the cup to your lips, not missing the quiet warning not to roll your eyes at her again which followed.

you took a swig before your girlfriend moved the cup back, ring clad thumb wiping a few loose droplets from your bottom lip, your stomach fluttering at the simple gesture as the blonde turned back to the game, squeezing your thigh gently.

everything was fine until the buzzer sounded for halftime, leah leaving you with jason as she disapeared to get the two of you another drink, placing a loving kiss to the side of your head as she stood.

however when she returned to see her seat was filled by another body her good mood was instantly diminished. the blonde was easily fifty metres away but already saw on your face that you weren't comfortable, much as you tried covering it up with a fake smile.

"sorry mate, seems you're in my seat." you let out a silent sigh of relief as your girlfriend appeared in front of you, glancing down to you wordlessly checking in as you gave her a small nod of assurance.

"we're just talking, there's a seat there." the man nodded behind him to jasons vacant seat as the movie star had been briefly whisked away by a few of his peers for a photo, the stranger not even sparing leah a look as you glanced up at her with pleading eyes.

the blondes jaw clenched as she watched the american place his hand on your shoulder and you went rigid, hands fidgeting with the bottom of your dress shirt as his eyes shamelessly wandered your body.

"yeah there is. and i'm sure you've got one elsewhere, so why don't you run along and go sit back down in it." leah warned, voice now octaves deeper as her eyes glared into the side of his head. "look doll-" the mans gaze finally lifted from you and his face slackened seeing the english captains bright blue orbs piercing down on him angrily.

"oh shit you're leah williamson." the man realised, eyes widening as he shot to his feet and took a step away, allowing your girlfriend to sit back down, placing the drinks by her feet and stretching her arm protectively over the back of your chair.

"nah not me, sorry mate." and with that the blondes hand which sat on your shoulder grabbed your chin, the defender leaning in and rewarding you with a searingly passionate kiss, your breath hitching as she wasted no time slipping her tongue in your mouth.

by the time she pulled away with a slight pop, leaving your lips somewhat bruised and a little swollen the man had scurried off back to wherever he'd come from.

leahs own lips curled into a cocky smile as yours tingled from the feverish kiss, brought back down to earth as leah turned your head to meet her eyeline, hand still gripping your jaw only now a lot more tenderly.

"did he do anything to you?" the blonde asked seriously, perfectly plucked eyebrows furrowing with concern as her eyes roamed your face for any sign of discomfort. "no he was only sat there for a minute or two before you came back, I told him i was here with someone but he wouldn't take the hint."

"i should have poured my fucking drink on his head, smug prick." leah muttered angrily, letting go of your chin and pressing a much softer kiss to your forehead. "hey calm down. i'm okay, don't let him spoil our evening." you grabbed her hand and squeezed as leah nodded, downing her drink in one and exhaling, rolling her neck a few times as her arm stayed wrapped around your shoulder.

"besides, once we get back to the hotel later baby i'm yours and only yours." you whispered to your blonde lover as the game recommenced, causing her cocky smile to only grow wider.

"in that case then i'll make sure the entire hotel are reminded who you belong to as well." leah murmered in your ear as she kissed at your rapidly blushed cheek.

"all mine. my most pretty girl."

[kotonoba]

50/50 Everything (Jushiro/F!Reader)

Based on this

-------------------------------------------------------

You didn’t get into this whole TikTok thing, not even when your co-workers tried to show you some videos while you were on break. You didn’t get into it until your kids and husband decided to scroll through one night for family movie night. Defeated, you sat on the couch, watching your husband display his screen onto the projector. Sure, there’s a lot to watch, but it didn’t interest you until Jushiro stopped on a video and nudged you to watch with him.

The video showed two people talking. The man said he wanted 50/50 on everything, splitting the bill when they eat out, splitting the bill for trips, and even splitting the bill for phones. That earned you a chuckle. Jushiro paused the video, “What is it, love?” 

“I just thought it was funny. Splitting the bill as if you two were friends, he seems like he wants to just stay as friends with this woman. She could do better,” you smiled at him. He hummed, kissing you on the lips. 

“You two never split the bill when you first went out, mom?” You turned your attention to your son and a curious onlooker, your daughter. 

“Your father never let me pay. He said it was ‘not very gentlemen’ of him,” you laughed, you recall your first date with him. It was Christmas Eve; you had your first break in a long time. You didn’t think a stranger you happened to meet and talk to at the local library would be down to hang out. But he agreed. 

The two of you went ice skating. He was a little clumsy but could skate around freely with your assistance. Afterward, he treated you to dinner in a cozy diner near a snow field; couples laughing, families singing Christmas carols, and a group of kids in the fresh snow building snowmen resonated into the restaurant. It was rather romantic with how warm and dimly lit the yellow hues of the restaurant were displayed. The two of you chatted about what a stable future would be like in five years. You two had a lot in common. As the date drew to a close and the bill came to about $76, you pulled out your wallet, but you were met with him already handing his credit card to the waiter.

“Oh, let me pay you back,” you dug through your bag; you just got paid that day too. 

But your dinner date stopped you. " That wouldn’t be very gentlemen of me if I made the lady of the hour pay,” he had muttered something under his breath. You thought you were hallucinating and didn’t bother asking him to clarify. You only laughed at what he said. After pushing back and forth, you caved and allowed him to pay. 

“I still don’t let your mother pay,” he responded, snapping you back to reality. You shrugged at that; it’s a habit to let him pay now; he either pays ahead of time or in front of you, but he’s always on edge about it, worried you’d poach that opportunity from him. 

As the video continued, your husband nodded approvingly to the Russian lady's explanation about 50/50, which means 50% of his pay and 50% of everything he owns. You leaned back against his embrace, which he tightened more; you’ve noticed he’s grown more possessive over you as you two married and then had kids. But you didn’t take it to heart—rather like that possessiveness. Your co-workers always said they love you and think you’re important. You wouldn’t believe otherwise. 

“I completely agree. She doesn’t need his protection or humor. With that type of thinking, she could do better. " You and your kids laughed. It’s rare that Jushiro gets so worked up over a video, but he has his moments, and those moments were endearing. "Do you agree?"

“Yeah, kids, what did we learn from this video today?” You questioned your twins as Jushiro rested his chin on your shoulder. 

“I can do better than finding a man with that type of thinking,” your daughter proudly announced. Your husband nodded. 

“I should be paying as a sign of courtesy–” 

“No, you should be paying because that’s common sense,” Jushiro corrected your son. 

As your husband lectured your son, you can’t help but wonder who in Jushiro’s family told him that since he didn’t talk about them that much. Or did he get it from a friend? You shook your head and laughed as your husband went off on a tangent about what he expects from his son.

-------------------------------------------------------

The Mundane Life of a Shinigami

Aries' AO3

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 15

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother. Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / character sheet / next

Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma had pulled away, breathlessly. “Five.” She grinned at the man. They’d done no more than kiss that day. The rest of the day she had been pulled away by duties, when she’d returned he’d been asleep. Sure, she’d gotten back late, but she’d hoped to speak with him before more of the same would occupy her until tomorrow’s celebration.

It may have been her birthday, but that would not stop the demand for labour. The seamstress still needed help, as did the farmers who had to deliver enough for a feast. Many of the Ithacans sought her out, wishing her well on such a joyous day. Parents of sons wished to speak with her about her coming of age, and the prospects of marriage. She knew many of the town’s people, helped out pretty much everyone there. Over the years, the barren Ithaca she’d known as a child had flourished into a fertile, rich island.

They viewed her as a good omen, especially after ‘her tears had summoned the wrath of a God’. None of them viewed it the way she had, did not think of the grief it had brought her, how the God had inadvertently caused her other brother to leave. They only knew he wished to find his father, not that he feared a similar fate to his brother, should he offend his sister.

Ónoma knew better than to think the sorrow of her broken instrument had summoned Apollo. He was a proud God, and his temper burned like the sun. Not unlike hers. He had viewed her brother’s action as disrespect towards Him. To mock his instrument was to mock him, to break it, well, that was just too much. Though she could not deny their claims entirely.

She’d not been able to see or speak with Perikles until they had to leave for the castle, still they did not speak during their journey and once they’d arrived at the palace he seemed to disappear. Was he avoiding her? Every time she caught a glimpse of him and started in his direction, she would get derailed. Sons of ithaca offering her a drink, daughters looking to gossip with her of the men who’d approached her, Irene flitting in and out of conversation, trying to rescue her from the vultures. Then there were the royals.

Telemachus had tried to speak with his friend, but had been lost in a wave of girls, whishing to become princesses. Ctimene, while not technically a royal of Ithaca, had rescued her from some pushy parents and had taken her for a few turns around the room before being swept away. Penelope had spoken to her briefly but had been caught by the citizens, singing their praises of her loyalty to the king.

As for Odysseus, he’d approached her multiple times, questions sharp on his tongue. He’d asked her many things, about her role on the island, about what happened to her family, about anything he could think of but the question burning in his mind. He could never converse with her long, being tugged every which way by the citizens, and the families of the suitors. While Athena had intervened, they were not satisfied quite yet. Taking up much of his time and energy in his efforts to settle them.

That was, until he approached her once more. “Are you a champion of Ares?” The bluntness, and ridiculousness of his question stunned her.

“Pardon?”

“You mentioned him, in your explanation of how you defeated the suitors.” He clarified, tone light, but eyes calculating. He was reading her face, her stance, dissecting her like an insect under a looking glass.

“You flatter me.” She said, a soft laugh going through her. “Or you ridicule me. Do I look like one?” She countered. Thinking of the rather beastly, brutish men who were often associated with the God.

“No, if you would answer my question instead of countering it.”

“Of course, your majesty. I am not, a champion of Ares that is. He, protector of women, simply aided me in protecting a woman. Made my thoughts quick as he put it. He’s shown himself once before, during one of the Dionysian mysteries.” She took a sip of her watered wine, her explanation was lengthy, sparing the king no details.

“You’re allowed at the mysteries? To my knowledge they do not allow outsiders, except for the one time a season. Are the rituals different on those nights?”

“I’m not to disclose such information. They’re called mysteries for a reason. All the public knows is that the state of the priestesses is one where inhibitions are, somewhat removed. I’m only there to ensure no boundaries are crossed in such a state. You heard what happened on Same, no?”

He had, Ctimene had told him. “You answer honestly.” He stated matter of factly.

“You had not expected me to?” She murmured, the hurt audible in her voice. “I do not know what caused your distrust in me, but I can assure you it is misplaced.” She paused, breathed sharply. “If I may be excused, I would like to enjoy some fresh air.” She did not wait for his dismissal.

The king of ithaca had not meant to offend her, but the guilt he felt about her father’s death, and the word’s she’d spoken at the dinner table combined. They caused him to act surprisingly aggressively towards the girl. Athena had followed her around for him and had reported nothing strange, yet the unease remained. He would grow out of it, he assured himself, the events of his travels were just too fresh still.

Perikles had succeeded inavoiding the Ithacan king, thus far. He wished to return to the shack upon the shore, he’d started to settle there, just a bit. Staying there made him feel a warmth his palaces could not equal. He felt shame, for thinking so fondly of a place so lowly, so beneath him. It had reached a time where it was appropriate to leave, for those who had younger children, anyway.

He wished to leave, too, but was unwilling to leave his companion behind. Tonight had proven her importance, she’d not had a moment to herself, not a moment without the eyes of the king following her. He wished nothing more than to speak with her, to tease, to banter. For she was the only one he truly knew, he’d engaged in some idle conversation with some of the Ithacans, and some more meaningful tête-à-tête with Irene. She was a lively girl, he could see why his little hostess was so keen on the girl.

Speaking of, the moment Peach walked off, he pounced. He was not letting anyone get in the way of speaking with her. Perhaps he should have been more cautious, waited to see just who she’d been conversing with.

She was standing, hands rested on some railing in the palace gardens. She appeared tense, as he got closer he could pretty much feel the anger radiating off of her. “What’s got you all riled up.”

The sound of his voice took away some of her irritation, he wasn’t avoiding her, then. “The king.” She said hotly.

“Now now, watch how you speak lest someone overhear and view it as disrespect.” He jested.

“Using my words against me, now?” She chuckled. “He’s been watching me like a hawk all evening, I don’t understand why, but it’s intense? I feel like a criminal under his watch.” She added. They talked for hours and did not notice the rest of the guests trickling out of the palace, until they were the last two left. “I knew there was something fishy going on with you.” A voice sounded from behind them, startling the two.

Next.

Taglist:

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@barrythestrawberry041

@doodle-with-rhy

@h0ne4bee

@isla-finke-blog

@suckerforblondies

@trashcannotbealive

[return-of-a-space-cowboy]

Platonic Yandere Qalupalik Bruno and Teen reader who's neglected by her parents

Familial Yandere Qalupalik Bruno Buccirati

In the harsh cold of winter darling heads to the beach to sit and watch after school. The tide is drawing in and the waves grow stronger.

She sits their mesmerized by the waves before and almost inhuman hum reverberates, she looks to the source to see a man sitting upon the rocks with long black hair that is long enough to cling down his whole greenish body and srawls across the waters surface.

She knows she has to run but her body is frozen as the creature notices her and swims towards her.

"Child... sweet child why are you here alone?" He asks in a pitty filled tone as draws his arm out to touch her but they managed to get control of her body and run as far as she possibly can. She get home early and immediately halls herself up in her room. What on earth was that thing?

All seems normal, but she refuses to return to the beach from then on. But one day she finds a fish on her doorstep, weird but darling decides after doing some research she'll try and cook it as it seems fresh. Everyday from then on a fish is at the doorstep waiting for her. Is this some weird prank or someone's unusual act of kindness she can't tell.

One day she goes to the store and tries to buy something to eat, she doesn't quite have enough and that's when a man with long ebony hair in his twenties intervenes. He offers to cover the rest.

"Thank you sir" she thanks him.

"I can't let a child go hungry" he tells her before inspecting her. Telling that she's not eating healthy (due to them not having access to fresh meals) and gives her some cash and tells to use it to get a proper meal before leaving.

After numerous bump ins with the man darling grows friendly with him. Due to her parents working late he offers to occasionally get her dinner. He asks her about her life. How's school? What subjects does she like? What does she like to do in her spare time. For darling it's great to have someone who cares about her and listens to her.

Then one day darling is confronted at school by a bully and it turns violent and darling is covered in bruises and split skin from the fight. Darlings parents don't even answer the schools calls and is forced to stay behind for detention.

She's surprised to see Bruno waiting at the school for her but she bursts into tears and embraces him.

"Who did thus too you" he asks and she points to the bully who also just left. So he walks up to them and their mother with darling in tow.

"Excuse me ma'am but what your child has done is inexcusable" he tells the woman who scoffs.

"My child wouldn't do such a thing without a reason to, she started it" she tells him.

"Well I find that hard to believe, I want you to make them apologize and correct your child's behavior... otherwise there will be consequences" he hisses.

"Who do you think you are?" She asks with shock.

"I am her father" he hisses back.

Despite his warning she doesn't and leaves. After he gets some supplies and tends to darlings injuries.

"You said you were my father, why?" She asks.

"I think of you as a daughter (y/n), however I didn't mean to say that outloud... seeing you in such a state made me livid, I wasn't thinking straight" he told her.

"If I could be your father theoretically, Would you want that?" he asks.

"I would" she tells him.

The next day the child is missing and police are called eventually they show up at her door to ask questions. They bring up the events that were brought up yesterday. As much as it hurts she has to clarify to them that man wasn't her actually father, she tells him what she knows which isn't a lot and she's given a talk by the police about trusting strangers and how people do what he does to draw in girls like her to take advantage of. She's adamant he'd never do such a thing but it does make her question her relationship with Bruno, he's never mentioned anything about himself she was so caught up in feeling seen that she didn't one consider the situation as a whole. What if had made sure of the consequences he warned of.

A few days later there's a knock at the door and darling opens it. It's Bruno.

"Bruno, the police want to see you" you told him.

"I've already talked with them" he lies.

"I wanted to see if you'd come to the beach with me?" He asks. She remembers that creature and shakes her head to decline.

"Why not. It's the perfect day to watch the waves?" He asks.

"I don't like the beach" she tells him.

"Then let's get something to eat" he offers. He awful insistent, feeling as though he was urgently trying to get her to come with him.

"Bruno... you didn't do anything to that kid?" She ask.

"Of course not, what I was saying was just empty threat" he assures her.

"You believe me (y/n)?" He asks.

"Of course" she tells him.

"Then let's go" he says.

"No... I think I'll stay inside today" she says.

"I'd never hurt you my sweet child, you know that?" he tells her.

"Yes, of course, I'm just not feeling well today" she lies.

"Do you need me to get you medicine?" He asks.

"No... I just need to rest" she tells him before closing the door.

He can tell she's pushing him away. Why? You wanted to be his daughter. Those humans were pulling her away from him. He had to take her back to his den, it was the only way he could keep her safe from those horrible humans.