#first day jitters huh?

[fused-shad0w]

Leons big day!

[pixiesholloworld]

put 'em on the glass .ᐟ

╰┈➤ synopsis: me putting my your fav jjk men in car shmex scenarios

cw: f!reader established relationships w/ sukuna, geto, nanami,, fwb!gojo, hook up w/ toji, fear play? w/nanami agoraphilia (obviously), slight exhibitionism? fingering, hand jobs, oral (f!receiving), riding, pet names (like baby, honey, sugar), degradation (toji calls you a whore/brat/bitch/slut), high sex w/toji, spanking, missionary, backsh!ts, the whole 9 yards. [✿] is meant to be y/n

a/n: idk how much im gonna clean this up or proofread it but i hope you guys like

sukuna - [attachment 5 images] you'd never seen someone drive so fast before in your life, you watched as the little blip on your phone struggles to keep up with sukuna’s actual speed, updating only every few seconds until you see that he's around the corner. you put on the last few sprits of perfume and run outside to greet him, he quickly pushes the door open for you so you can hop in and before you can even get in good

"think its fun to tease me all day, huh? sending pictures of you bent over like that.." his voice, rough and consumed with desire. you felt all giddy after having successfully worked him up sending him picture after picture, of you in the skirt he bought you not too long ago— teasing him, you could feel your cunt begging to be relieved from this aching feeling, excitement smearing your thighs as he pulls into an empty parking garage.

you watch as his big veiny hands turn the wheel with finesse until he stops perfectly into a parking spot on the 3rd floor, the floor baren, the lights dim and flicker above the car as he reclines your seat and positions himself over you, "fuuck this," he seethes, "i'm not waitin' another minute to touch you". your hands reach over his shoulders and bring him in for a sultry kiss, you feel his breath shake as his lips press into yours again and again.

his hands wonder over your body, cupping your cheeks, and slowly moving down to unzip your jacket, knowing nothing lies under there but your hardened nipples. you feel his index and thumb squeeze and pull at them, beckoning small whimpers to leave your lips between kisses. you feel his lips curl against yours

"mmm, i like the sound of that" he moves one of his hands down to your legs, lightly grazing your thigh and following the heat to your puffed folds. the feeling sends a rush of electricity through your veins as his fingertips kiss at your folds and spread them, smearing the slick all over, "no panties?"

his thumb finds your soddened bulb and pushes against it slightly, you feel that same ticklish feeling start around your thighs and stomach, your brows furrow as your sweet moans fill his mouth. he moves his other hand from your nipple to your neck and squeezes slightly hearing how your voice cracks at the sudden pressure.

his finger moves at a quicker pace and you find it harder to keep up with his mouth but eventually you give up, letting him move his lips all over your face, your hips rhythmically jitter against his thumb. his hand grows tighter around your neck as your moans become louder

"k-kuna" you croak out, "more, kuna", your hands reach down to his and you guide two of his fingers inside. he lets you and releases his hand from around your neck, placing it beside your head, his thrusts are slow at first, watching as your body becomes more undone to his touch.

his lips slowly trail from the corner of your mouth, kissing at your jaw and slowly going down until he reaches your neck, his sharp teeth graze your neck as he leaves wet open kisses that turn into bites, biting you lovingly of course. he feels you clutching around his digits and thrusts faster feeling you lose yourself all over him

"kunaaa" you whine, fingers wildly massaging his tufts of hair, your body felt so heavy, you knew it was impossible but you felt like his fingers were so deep, feeling how they dove in and out so steadily, his palm kiss up against your clit every so often. it all gave you a feeling that was just a step up higher than euphoria

you could barley say anything other than his name when he started to sneak his lips over to your ear, kissing and licking all over it like a starved animal, shushing you while moving one of his hands over your mouth

he wanted this feeling to last as much as you did, but that single action ended it all, you two were so lucky that it was so far into the night that no one could possibly hear you.. at least no one outside the parking lot

even with all the windows rolled up and his hand over your mouth sukuna was sure your screams could be heard. "such a loud mouthed brat" he teases, removing his hand from both your mouth and weeping cunt, he instead forces his cream coated digits into your mouth so you can clean it off

"sorry" you muffle out, as your tongue languidly rolls between his thick fingers. your half lidded eyes stare into his deep crimsons as if you were trying to telepathically tell him what you wanted, feeling his length grow on your thigh

he looks at you with a fiendish grin and starts unbuckling his belt

gojo - rear service

you had no idea where your taste in men came from

as the oldest sibling it was only natural for you to be drawn to only children or younger siblings

and for some reason you chose to be fwb with the most annoying one you could find, though you suppose he was annoying in a charming way

when saturo invited you out you thought you’d be getting your pussy ate, not sitting in the middle of the beach parking lot watching all of the digimon movies in order. counting grains of sand could be more interesting than this shit

but at least he made it comfortable for you, you were in his custom made baby blue tesla, the 2 front seats were put all the way down and you were huddled up next to him under a blanket as the screen played in front of the both of you

you tried to stay focused, so so so hard, but the longer the movie went on the more you felt like leaving, it didn't make it any better that every few minutes he'd drop a fun fact about one of the characters, like you really gave a fuck

something needed to give and fast, you slyly move your hand over to his stomach and casually start toying with his pajama pant drawstring, thinking you were doing it so sneakily too, playing it off as an attempt to caress his smooth skin

but then all so abruptly you feel his hand run over yours and glide it into his pants and boy was he hard. feeling him take control so suddenly when you thought he was distracted caught you by surprise

"god, i was saving the fun part for later" he moves your hand down further so your grasping it now, "is the movie really that boring?"

you flash a smile at him, holding his length and slowly stroking it, "yeah, reallly fucking boring" you pull it out from his boxers and move your lips to meet with his. while kissing was cool and all you felt yourself growing more impatient by the minute

you find yourself moving lower on the seat, letting him hover right over you. you could feel the beads of pre drip onto your clothes, his breathing becoming more shallow as his wet, pink, lips force your mouth open to let his tongue in

he's rutting into your hand at this point, whenever he gets like this he starts whining and rambling, "sorry f'borin' you to death, let me make it up to you, yeah? come on, pretty" he starts pawing at your shorts, smiling against your swollen, spit colored lips,"let me eat it for you, or better yet let me fuck you, yeahh, could fuck you real good night now"

maybe this was why you happened to get with men that were an only child, always so eager to please, or maybe it was just him, either way you weren't complaining. gojo loved when you took control, so when you told him if he wanted the privilege of fucking you again he needed to prove he deserved it first, he did exactly that

it was such a pretty sight to see, his white locs of hair draping over your sprawled out legs feeling how hungrily he lapped up your juices. his tongue running swirls around your hardened bulb, sending shocks throughout your body, you could feel him nibbling and sucking on your clit all in an effort to hear your sweet sweet moans

“mmm, just like that ‘toru” you could tell he was losing himself in your taste, your scent, your moans, the feeling of your thighs threating to squeeze his head open if he kept going at this pace, he didn't care though he'd just pry them open again like he always does

he looks up at you so innocently too, knowing something vile is going on inside of that head of his. he didn't have to say it but you knew that would be your last time trying to stop him from getting what he wanted, feeling how his sinewy arms held your legs down while gripping the fat of your thigh, groaning into your cunt like he was the one being eaten out

the nerves in your stomach built up, and up, and up, not only from how his tongue quickly lapped at your folds but there was an added thrill doing this outside on public property… fact that you two could get caught at any moment added to the pleasure

your hand reached for his head trying to pull him in deeper, saturo loved getting his hair pulled and usually welcomed your gentle tugs but this time he took your hand away from his head and held onto it, looking you deep in the eyes as the hardened tip of his tongue bullied your clit

your body felt so limp and your legs shook like crazy at every movement he made begging to close up just to suppress your climax. you squeezed his hand, trying to keep yourself grounded as he groaned into your clit, licking and sucking at it until you were drowning in pleasure, your breaths becoming more exasperated

“ah, i-i’m gonna, ‘toru i- ahh!”, you moaned, arching your back as he held your legs open, hungrily sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves. he lived for your taste, loving how your voice cracks when you’ve had too much for his sinful tongue for one night, most of all though he loved holding you in place while you squirmed into his arms, bucking your hips straight into his mouth so you could ride out your nut

saturo lifts his head up, admiring the sticky mess between your thighs as he works his way up, his dick poking right at your mound

“now for the fun part”

geto - no license

suguru loved, loved, loved, loved making you hit high notes, you promised to ride him one of these days but you were failing miserably, you weren’t making all the pretty noises you usually do

so naturally he took matters into his own hands—literally—by fucking up into you, guiding your hips up and down to match his movements. you could feel your legs juddering from having your legs in one position for so long, nearly ready to give out as you buried your face into his neck, clawing into the leather behind him

he was unrelenting, he probably wasn’t gonna be satisfied until he’s made you cum more times than you can count, to make matters worse though you were fucking in his car in front of a church, not only was it humiliating to know the car was definitely moving in the dark of night but in front of a church made thing so much worse

you’ve always wanted to have car sex and leave it to suguru to make it a night worth remembering with the stakes so high. he told you you had no need to worry since a church is the last place the cops will think of checking on you two, and with every thrust you slowly started to worry less and less

or was that your brain turning into mush? you didn’t even notice suguru was talking to you until you felt a mean smack on your ass, “you hear me talkin’ to you?” you yelp in response struggling to find words as he slams you down harder on his girth

“m-mmhm”

“my poor dumb baby, you’re all fucked out already?” he grabs a fist full of your hair and forces you to look into those fanciable purple irises of his, he hums contently admiring what a mess you’ve made of yourself. your make up that you worked so hard on smeared all over your face and the drool splayed all across your cheek, you were oh so cute like this

another mean smack snaps you out of your daze, dragging a more high pitched yelp out of you than before, “answer” he demands, can’t he tell? the answer was so obvious, your delayed speech and mindless babbling, the way your body would lurch forward in an attempt to impede the next thrust, the tears threatening to fall from those cute little puppy eyes suguru adored so much

“y-you’re being— fuh, s’mean— ngh”

“oh? am i? s’your fault you’re in this mess y’know. making me get my own nut off”

“don’t mean to” you say behind half gritted teeth, your eyes shut in an attempt to deny the inevitable but his hand smacks your ass twice in response

“open those pretty eyes f’me, wanna see that look you give me when you cum”

suguru knew you loved his voice, it was so deep yet soothing, everything about him was so tantalizing, the longer you looked into his eyes the hotter you started to feel. you were practically naked in his car having only your socks and shirt on, he had teased you for hours before your promise to ride him fell through and those hours were starting to catch up to you

“think you can ride all by yourself now?” his hand smacking your ass again just to hear you scream

“y-yes!”

“go on, don’t disappoint me”

you adjust yourself and hold on to the headrest bouncing in the same rhythm he had you going at, his curve hitting that same spot over and over it was driving you fucking crazy. you felt hot all over and the stinging from his constant smacks weren’t going away anytime soon, the inside of your knees started feeling sweaty and slowly but surely you started to wind down

he wouldn’t let that go unpunished though

smacking your ass again and placing his hands on your hips to fix your speed, “you were doin’ so good, what happened huh?”, he gifts you another smack before letting go of your hips, “don’t let it happen again, ok?”, you heard a hint of irritation in his voice, he meant big business

so now with sudden newfound inspiration you go at the exact pace he wants you to go, clutching around his girth every few thrusts, feeling his dick pummel through you so quickly made you so wet and his breathy moans made everything so much wetter until, pop

his dick slipped out, “uh oh,” he lifts you up by your waist and eases it back in, grabbing your hips and slamming you right back down into his balls again, “pussy’s so wet baby, you feel so fuckin good”, then all at once his hands roam up to your waist and he slumps back making you fall against him, thrusting right into you while hitting that g-spot

“who’s pussy is this?”

“ah! ah! yours! ngh”

he smacks your ass really fucking hard this time, forcing you to correct yourself

“ahh fuck! yours suguru, it’s yours!”

then another, smack,

your screaming moans could probably be heard from outside the car but you didn’t care and neither did he all he cared about was hearing those broken pornographic moans scream his name

“that’s more like it, keep going baby, yeahh just like that. here, take that shirt off too”,

he slides your shirt off with ease then cups your breast and places it in his mouth, letting it fall out every now and again to fuck you and then placing it back. near growls leave his mouth as you feel his balls crash into you over and over, making the most lewd papping sounds you’ve ever heard. all this added stimulation started to make you feel lightheaded

his hands were glued to the sides of your hips forcing you to take every inch he could offer and then some, he could feel how your walls would clutch around his dick so tightly, it made him chuckle a little, thinking you might actually break it off. he slows down his pace a little, his hands roaming up to your face, keeping steady eye contact with you, "you take it so well, sweetheart, wanna keep going like this?"

you nod your head rapidly, not knowing what suguru had planned for you next

"use those words of yours" he teases

"y-yes" you exhale, feeling his hands roam back down to your hips lifting them up once more

"come on then, put your arms over me"

nanami - murder road

when you told your husband you wanted to try something different you did not have this in mind

when he first brought up going to a murder road you were curious and excited, thinking it was something similar to halloween horror nights, but when you got into his car and started to see the city lights slowly disappear you grew a little concerned not really knowing what the road ahead had in store for you

"honey, where are we going?"

"you'll see"

the road ahead twisted and the pit in your stomach grew into an abyss, you looked up what a murder road was on your phone since he wasn't coughing up any answers but all that came up was this stupid book and then your service went out!

you knew kento had no alterative plans for you like murder per say... but you didn’t feel entirely comfortable driving into a literal black hole either. as if things couldn’t get weirder you stop at a cliff, its dark as shit out here, you’re cold and you want to go home

you feel sudden warmth on you leg and look down to see your husband's hand he’s looking at you with those same loving eyes he always gives you looking as though he's impressed with himself

“kento— dear, where the fuck are we?”

“this is the murder road i was telling you about”

“yeah but… what are we doing here.. this place is giving me the creeps”

his hand creeps up your thigh, fingers brushing against where your clit would be, “you said you wanted to try something different didn’t you?”

it all started coming together now, the secrecy, the long car ride, all building up to this moment, you’d be lying if his seriousness and dedication to his role didn’t turn you on a little bit, you felt a little more at ease

still freaked out that your husband decided to fuck you in the middle of nowhere but relieved that you won’t end up on the news tomorrow. you both climb in the backseat staring at each other hungrily until you make the first move, taking his tie off of him slowly and sensually, before moving to his button down

“[✿], what were you so afraid of?” a bit of concern tainting his tone

“hm? i just wanted to know where we were going”

“does not knowing things scare you?”

“i guess so”

he then unexpectedly took his tie from you and held it in his hands, "you wanted to try something new, right?"

your hands move away from his button down, his chest was exposed down the middle, his eyes were focused directly on you, unwavering

"y-yeah?"

"you mind if a blind fold you?"

blind folding? what the fuck

was it not enough that you two were surrounded by darkness?

"you've got nothing to be afraid of, no one can see us out here"

it’s not being caught that scared you it’s not knocking whatever coming next that did, then, a familiar feeling started to pull at your stomach again, it was like when you were on your way up here, or when you'd be left in the dark as a child— you were scared, but for some reason this time it felt good. you let him tie the tie around your head, it completely covered your vision and you could only feel kento's warmth in front of you at this point

"tell me if its too tight"

"so'kay"

"you ready?"

"yes"

your body felt so tense but it was all so exciting at the same time, you could hear kento taking off his clothes, the clinking of his belt, the ruffling of his shirt and pants. the anticipation was dreadful, until you felt his hand on your thigh, "can i take these off for you?" he pulls at the loop attached to your jeans

"mmhm"

he unbuttons your jeans first, and then slides them over your hips, you lift yourself up a little to make it easier for him and then he moves over to your long sleeve, only leaving on your bra and panties. your tummy was doing backflips by this point, not knowing what you looked like or what he looked like, just knowing that he was in front of you and that the inevitable was coming soon

"you look so lovely" he professes, guiding you to lie down on your back, you couldn't even fathom that this was happening right now, you felt so many different sensations now that your sight was gone, you felt how strong he was, muscles daring to burst from his smooth, taut skin. his body heat was so strong and it felt almost as if the heat was carrying his scent

you felt something coming closer to your face until you felt his warm lips press against yours, you just now noticed how plump they were, your hands roamed around his body moving up to his back and pulling him in closer, wanting more of his warmth

you could feel his teeth gently clash against yours beckoning you to open your mouth wider to let his tongue in, the texture is rough but wet, you felt one of his hands tuck under your back, bringing you closer to him as his dick nestles between your legs, slowly rutting against your laced panties

his lips would diverge from loving kisses to bites so suddenly, biting your lower lip and slightly sucking on it before sticking his tongue back in your mouth, the unpredictability and lewdness of it all made you throb, the wet sounds your mouths made, hearing how his breath would hitch and his hips would jitter after every whimper that fell from your lips

it must've been so hard from him to hold back because the second you ask for him to put it in you can feel him racing to take your panties off, you can feel the heat radiating from his tip and coming closer, feeling as though its about to burst

he teases the entrance a little covering your clit with the mixture of pre and slick before sinking himself in, shaky moans pour out as your hands try to reach up for him and he comes to you immediately letting you feel his warmth as he kisses your lips

"that's alright honey, ive got you"

toji - put 'em on the glass, girl!

you both knew you were dead wrong, you more than him though, what would the other club members think if they saw you like this? you were part of a very very well known car club, you weren't only apart of it but YOURE THE HEAD of the club

you had it all, the money, the cars, the attention, so what were you doing here? face pressed against the glass of the rival club leader's car with his dick balls deep in your guts?

the only reason you got into this situation was because you decided to match, not only was toji in a car club but he also sold weed and you like to test your products before you buy..

"fuck- toji! ughmygod!"

"somethin' wrong doll?"

"more, more please, more"

"more? awh, must really like me, huh?"

"shutupand fuckme" you say behind gritted teeth, you grab his hand and start throwing it back faster, what can you say? you were gonna get your nut off one way or another

you felt the car bouncing beneath you two, it shook so viciously especially when he started going deeper, it felt like he was pushing your cervix farther back. he grabbed the back of your head, pushing it more into the glass just to watch your breath fog up the mirror, like it wasn't hot enough in here already

you could see his smug grin from the corner of your eye as he pummeled into you, you used to despise that shit eating grin. he'd always show up to takeovers in the flashiest cars that were wayyy out of his tax bracket, there's no way he could afford them, he was definitely a theft waiting to be caught.. but all of that started to fade from your mind when he took his hand off your head and put it between your thighs

you had to let go of him and hang onto the car door to keep your balance by this point, your legs started to buckle and tremble, you could hear him let out a dark chuckle, his fingers spreading your slick covered folds to find thatt spot, the added stimulation was driving you crazy

you can see his face coming closer, stopping just short of your ear, "that feel good? like when i play with your clit like this?"

"uh-huh- yes! don't stop!"

"you gonna cum soon?" he cooed, you weren't even listening to his voice with your ears anymore but your drooling cunt, "i can see your cream on my dick, you nasty whore"

“shutuptoji”

“such a mouthy little bitch, dont’chu know who the fuck y’er talkin’ to?"

all you could do was moan in response as his hips thrusted deeper and harder just to feel you grip onto him tighter, you both knew you were gonna cum soon and it was gonna be messy

“nothin’ to say back huh? who knew that all i needed to fix that mouth of yours was stick my dick in ya”

“just- ngh, fuck— ah, me”

“awh 'm sorry princess, not goin’ fast enough for you?”

then almost instantly his hips started pumping faster, he pulled your head off of the glass and placed it up to look at him, he had moved his hand from between your thighs by now, slowly moved his hands down your waist to your ass, a hand on each cheek, gripping the fat and pushing it together, spanking it, groaning at each thrust loving how he could hear the sound of your ass falling back against him, fucking you so good you started to lose your arch

“t-toji, slow down! ah, ah!”

“hm?" smack! "why the fuck would i?" smack! "s’only one way to shut nasty fuckin’ brats like you up— nghfuck, you’re so wet—", smack! "you run that fuckin' mouth all day n' all i wanna hear is —mmm shiitt baby, fix that fuckin’ back, yeahh"

toji went on and on about how nasty you were fucking him out in public like this, how loud you were being, how much your body loved being on him, all while fucking you the way you deserved to be

"such a needy little bitch, huh? you need my dick? mmhm, fuck— sound like you need it," smack! "mmm, you want it dont you?" smack! "need it huh, dollface?"

a familiar feeling pulled at your womb, filling your insides from how good you felt, your hands scrapped against the fogged glass in an attempt to get away from him, but he holds you down against the glass again forcing you to take it

"fuck are you goin’? we’re not done yet"

[hiraethwrote]

she thought you were cute

summary: you've never had to worry about getting jealous being with Megumi. but one time has to be the first, right?

[ loner!megumi x popular!reader ]

cw: college au, aged up characters, f!reader, sorority!reader, megumi being oblivious, jealousy!!, reader is kinda mean ngl, mild profanity (one use of hell), fluff

word count: 2.6k

Was jealousy a hot topic in your relationship? Well, it wasn’t unheard of. There was no denying you quickly garnered a respectable reputation as a part of the biggest sorority on campus — not to mention your radiating personality and beauty just had eyes draw towards you wherever you went. This did tend to ignite the tiniest spark of jealousy in Megumi, understandably so.

But god forbid he did anything about it — that would mean causing a scene which wasn’t his style. He mostly stuck to groaning a few curses to himself, complaining to his friends about the idiots who thought they stood a chance with you before he quickly relaxed once you joined them just to latch onto him.

You, on the other hand, were a different case.

There had never really been any situations to bring out the jealous side of you. You knew it existed, as you had never been very forgiving when people stepped into the territory of what was yours. But dating the quiet and reserved guy had its unforeseen advantages. Megumi did what he could to stay out of the limelight, never making heads turn. It had you feel special, being the the lucky girl to discover the hidden gem that was Megumi.

Or maybe you had just been lucky enough to discover him first.

His brooding and mysterious personality that had once made people steer clear of him in hallways, seemed to have a different affect in university. Suddenly you weren’t alone in making eyes at him.

You first became aware of this fact one random Wednesday, when you had planned to meet up with Megumi and his small group of friends in the library after a full day of classes to get some light reading done. You’d gotten a little confused when you had come to join their booth to find only Nobara and Yuji, while Megumi’s stuff was abandoned.

“Where’s Megs?”

Nobara didn’t even lift her head from her book, simply waving her hand in his general direction. Sitting down in the empty seat, you spotted him across the room, seemingly in deep conversation with a girl you had never seen before.

Wait- was that a smile you saw lurking on his lips?

Unfamiliar heat raised up your neck looking at the pair, how he casually had his hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants while she stood sweetly, her books pressed to her chest under her crossed arms.

“Nobara?” She only hummed softly in confirmation she heard you. “Who’s she?”

“Huh?” Her curiosity had her tilt her head to meet your grumbling expression staring daggers past her. She followed your gaze to observe the scene you were silently cursing. “Oh, that’s Yukiko. They have a few classes together.”

“Hmpf.” Your displeased tone caused Yuji’s attention to shift away from his laptop as well. Unbeknownst to you, the two of them shared an amused look, never expecting you to be the one to succumb to the cheap hex of jealousy. “So are they like friends or what?”

Nobara had lost all interest in delving deeper into her curriculum, because the sight of you leaning back in the chair, frumpy expression tightening your features and body jitter with agitation was a hell of a lot more entertaining.

“If you count sharing study notes as friends,” Yuji shrugged thinking his comment would be of help, but when he turned to look at you again he swore he could see a twitch under your eye.

You licked your lips, trying to peer your eyes off of the two… only succeeding for a second before you snapped your head in their direction again.

Tracing your eyes up and down her body, you were not quite a fan of what you observed, because strictly based on her appearance she looked a lot like a girl one thought Megumi would be with. She wore a dark and oversized outfit, her face kind, but had no distinct characteristics — definitely not the person to stick out in a room.

But the way she carried herself, hiding just under her cute and quiet exterior was a behaviour that reminded you of someone; you before Megumi. By the way she batted her eyelashes at him and occasionally twirling her hair around her finger, you had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t as innocent as she appeared to be. Those were all tricks you knew all too well. You had perfected them, in fact. And now she was very charitably throwing them in the direction of your boyfriend.

And though you knew it meant nothing, you absolutely hated the fact that he was so politely accepting her gestures — because when you had presented yourself so sweetly to him way-back-when, he had shut you down.

The obnoxious sound of you frantically tapping your pen against the open book in front of you filled the space between the three of you, it being the only thing that stopped you from stomping over to them and prove to her she was definitely wasting her time.

Finally, their conversation came to an end, and there was no stopping your eyes from narrowing into a venomous squint when she so adorably wiggled her dainty fingers goodbye before he came to sit by the table.

“How was class?” Megumi asked softly, settling into a feeling of comfort now that you had finally joined him for the day — sadly, his usual sweet tone flew right over your head, the image of this Yukiko still gnawing at the back of your mind.

“Hm? Oh, just fine. Nothing out of the ordinary,” you shrugged nonchalantly, turning to your notes as if nothing was bothering you.

However, you weren’t fooling Megumi, who from the second you opened your mouth knew something wasn’t quite right. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You shot him a small smile before returning to your work.

He only let his curious gaze linger on you for a few more seconds, hoping the reason for the annoyance you were trying to hide would show itself to him. But it never did — you just continued to let your pen travel hastily across the blank pages of your notebook, simply trying to erase the image of the girl he’d been talking to.

Megumi wanted to question you further, not really at peace when he knew something had you scowl. But he also knew if you didn’t flat out tell him what it was, it was better to let your frustration die out on its own. Whatever was going through your mind, you yourself thought you were being silly — and digging deeper would only hinder your process of letting it go.

Eight days went by before she triggered your jealousy again. And this time you didn’t manage to shove the thought of her to the darkest and most forgettable corners of your mind.

Entering his small dorm, you were greeted by the most charming little smile while he lazily paced around the room with his phone pressed to his ear. You didn’t hesitate to throw your bag on the kitchen counter before shuffling over to snake both arms tightly around his waist, pulling a low grunt from his lips at the sudden pressure of your embrace.

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll see you soon.” Once he hung up, he threw his phone on the bed before he loosely wrapped his arms around you in return.

“Who was that?” You hummed quietly, eyes closed as you basked in his warmth that embraced you so lovingly.

“Just Yukiko who needed to borrow one of the books from the reading list.”

It didn’t take more than the sound of her name to evaporate the relaxation in your muscles. You slowly unlatched your arms around him and took a step back, letting them swing carelessly at your sides.

“She doesn’t have her own?” With a forced bounce in your step, you returned to your bag to retreat your phone, needing anything to fidget with in order to keep the flaming feeling inside you from blowing up.

“She does, but she forgot it when she was home from campus this weekend.”

“And the library doesn’t have a spare copy?”

“Apparently they were all checked out already.”

“Apparently,” you said spitefully, keeping your eyes fixated in the shut off device in your hand.

The unfazed act you put on served as much as a shear lace fabric, jealously shining through like a bright light. It was definitely a behaviour he’d never had the fortune of experiencing up close.

It reminded him a little of the impression he had gotten of you from afar, before he had the privilege of knowing you. Though he had never thought of you to be mean, some of the stereotypes of a popular girl he had theorised about, had proven over time to be a correct assumption — like the fact that you might have been a little spoiled. You definitely weren’t big on not getting what you wanted, especially when someone else wanted it as well.

“She wasn’t too far from here, so I was just going to meet her real quick and drop it off,” he said calmly as he went over to his bookshelf to pull out the book, which he had finished reading nearly two weeks ago.

“I’ll come with you!” Spinning around to face him again, you had your arms cutely tucked behind your back, sporting a smile sweet as sugar.

“It’s only gonna take like ten minutes-“

“No, no,” you cut him off, the forced cheerfulness in your voice slightly scaring him. “I’ll come with.”

Megumi definitely wasn’t the type of person to initiate a lot of public displays of affection, but he never shut it down whenever you rested your head on his shoulder when taking the train, or lacing your fingers with his when walking through campus.

However, the possessive grip you had on his hand right now was certainly different. He wouldn’t necessarily say unpleasant, because it was still you after all, but he did miss the tenderness your touch usually supplied.

“You’re meeting her here?” You asked, a somewhat mean lilt to your voice as you eyed the café you were standing in front of. With a roll of the eyes, he held the door open for you to walk in first, shielding away how the corner of his lips tugged upwards — because even though he hated to admit it, there was a small part of him that found it all slightly amusing.

It was always him who wallowed in the uncomfortable feeling of jealousy, lathering himself with patience whenever people ogled you. And here you were, grinding your teeth together at the first girl who talked to him — who even if she was flirting, Megumi was completely oblivious to it.

“Megumi!” Both your heads turned towards the voice, you having to lean forward to catch a glimpse of her past your boyfriend. When her eyes landed on you, a flash of stress travelled across her face before her smile returned to her glossed lips.

“Hey,” he spoke politely as the two of you approached her table, while you only flashed your pearly teeth in a confident smile.

“Hi,” you said, stretching your hand you straight. She reluctantly returned the handshake as you introduced yourself. “It’s so nice to meet you!”

“Nice to meet you too. I’m Yukiko.” Her tone was friendly enough, but you didn’t dare put your guard down, scouting for any subtle advances she might throw in his direction.

“Here you go,” Megumi said, handing her the thick book.

“You’re a lifesaver, Megumi! Don’t know what I’d do without you.”

With a burning sensation, you were convinced your instincts were right. The faintest shimmer in her eyes when she looked at his face was enough to expose her. And to think she had the guts to let her interest shine through when you were standing right there.

For the first time in a long time, your territorial side was brought out, making you hook your arm with his, deliberately drawing her attention to your hand grabbing his in a firm grip.

“So the two of you are like study buddies, I understand it?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” she chuckled nervously, fingers tightening around the book in her hands.

“No?” Narrowing your eyebrows in faux confusion. “Thought you had shared notes and stuff?” When tilting your head to the side, your entire body shifted position which had you tug Megumi closer to you, but you managed to make it look so effortless — like you’re intentions were as pure as the driven snow.

“Sometimes,” she muttered, once again letting her gaze flicker to your hands.

Scarlet colour was slowly spreading across Megumi’s face, the heat melting his frozen posture. “We have to get going,” he mumbled shyly, slowly starting to back away towards the exit, pulling you along with him.

“Yeah, of course,” Yukiko said, the positive rhythm sneaking its way back to her words now that they were directed at Megumi again. “See you around.”

“Yeah, see you around,” you said with a slight bite to your tone, your fake smile blending into the frustrated scrunch of your nose. Megumi only had time to shoot her a tight lipped smile before the two of you exited the cafe in a hurry.

Once outside, reunited with air that wasn’t suffocating with hostility, your hand now held onto his with the care he was familiar with, your steps much lighter. You definitely seemed more at peace now when you had established your assertive character.

“She seems nice,” you cooed. Your attention snapped to him when he instantly snorted at your statement. By the slightly playful look he gave you, you thought he might have held back that reaction for a while.

“You know I always see through your lies, right?” He teased.

“Pfft,” you scoffed, retreating your hand from between you to blithely shove his shoulder. “I’m not lying!” His neck tilted to the side, soft squint staring right at you, causing the confession to tumble out without any struggle. “Fine, I don’t like her! But can you blame me?”

“Has she done something to you?”

Your feet stopped walking, blinking dumbfounded at him, letting his sentence digest in order to see if he was actually being serious. “You’re kidding?” All he did was shrug. Could he really be so blind? “You didn’t see what was going on there?”

“You’re telling me there was something to see?”

“Megumi, baby,” you chuckled lightheartedly, coming up to him to place a hand on each side of his face. “Do you think I was jealous over nothing?”

“I dunno,” he mumbled with yet another pull of his shoulders.

The adverse sprinkle to your mood was entirely forgotten, too smitten by the heedless behaviour of your boyfriend, not entirely convinced he actually hadn’t picked up on her attempt to catch his interest.

“She thought you were cute.” Another huff met you, accompanied by an exaggerated roll of the eyes. “No, I’m serious Megs,” you laughed, a sound that had his eyes instantly lock on you again. “But, the thing is, I’m the only one who’s allowed to think so.”

“Oh, is that right?” A smirk crept up on his lips.

“You’re my boyfriend after all, are you not?” You teased him, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to swallow back the satisfactory that had festered in you, now about to spill out in victorious smiles.

Again rolling his eyes, hiding how we was just a little flattered at your antics, before indulging in the rare act of taking the lead in showing his affection. Draping his arms around your neck, he pulled you to his chest in a comforting hug.

“I sure am.”

tags (taglist is open) @sad-darksoul @nyahctrl @ssetsuka @aceakariii @chxlexauriana @ps-forgetmenot @thejujvtsupost @acowboykisser

if your @ is highlighted in pink, i was unable to tag you... tumblr is not cooperating sorry <3

a/n this is didn't end up as well as i pictured it in my mind but oh well... don't have all that many ideas atm, so might come another fic of them soon

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated

plagiarism not authorized

[on-leatheredwings]

request: "how dick would handle learning reader is dating somebody?"

Yandere! Dick Grayson / GN! Reader > romantic > tw/cw: possessive thoughts, suggestive thoughts > word count: 660

Dick is 100% going to sabotage it. 

He had been so excited to spend the night with you – even if it is still entirely platonic. A movie with friendly snuggles was better than no movie and no snuggles, right? 

The snacks are classic theater popcorn, sour candies, chips, soda. The theater is your bedroom. A mountain of pillows and blankets are your recliners for the evening. Premium comfort. 

Following the plot of the movie goes out the window once your head drifts sleepily onto his shoulder halfway through the film. Dick tempts fate by reaching his arm around you. He feels jitters when you don’t protest, seemingly agreeable to the contact. You don’t even move once the movie credits start to play. 

It’s a good night so far. A great night.

Then you speak. 

“Oh!” you snap your head to him. Dick does the same, heart jumping with surprise. Snuggling had put him nearly in a tranquilized state. You sit up out of his grasp, and leave him cold and wanting. “You’re always talking about how I should get the house… Well, I forgot to say earlier, but I’m kind of seeing that cute pizza guy I told you about!” 

Dick just stares at you, a smile frozen on his face.

“Oh! That’s awesome!” he says. To his grief, you begin to tell him all about it. “Uh huh. Mm hmm.” he says to your gushing. It was lucky that you were so enamored with your daydreaming that you couldn’t notice his robotic nodding or the displeased glint of his eyes. Dick knew this day may come – you finding someone before he’s ready to pursue you. There are admittedly some things he enjoys about being your friend rather than your lover. Majority of it is feeling like he’s undercover, playing a cat-and-mouse game you aren’t even aware of. But that doesn’t mean you won’t feel attraction to someone else. So Dick has a plan.

The first order of business is making the target of your affection look as incapable as possible. That’s not hard. He is Dick Grayson. He is five-ten and 177 pounds of capable. Most people pale in comparison. He’ljust be a little suggestion, here and there.

“Oh, he’s not treating you to dinner? Well, fuck those stuffy, traditional roles, amirite?” 

“That’s where you had your first date? … He’s really thrifty.” 

“Wait, he volunteers re-socializing homeless abused puppies only once a week? I figured we all make time for it at least every weekday.”

He just needs to plant the seeds of doubt. Give you what people call, ‘the Ick.’ Once you break it off with that guy, surely, you’ll be feeling the temptation of bouncing to someone new. But who…?

That part’s the easy part. (Actually, it’s all pretty easy for him.) Dick will get you to notice just how great he is. He’s charming. And handsome. And rich. And flexible. He just needs to take you out to swim, or skating, or the gym, or the park – anything that would enable him to slide his hands across you. He can already imagine lengthening your arm, putting it gingerly in the right position. He can imagine the sweat beading on your temple. He can imagine your lip bite as you struggle to ignore his chest against your back as he stretches you out.

Dick relaxes, leaning back. He still offers vague commentary in the conversation, but his mind is racing with many other possibilities. Your body. His body. Together.

“But enough about that!” you say finally. “Let’s put on another movie.” Your brow raises cheekily. “Horror movie? And first one to scream owes the other twenty bucks?” 

“I’ll take that bet,” Dick hums. 

At your clear excitement, he feels his cheeks warm. He admires how the blue light of the TV screen reflects in your gorgeous eyes. Maybe he’ll let you win anyway, if only because he loves the look on your face when you do.

[viennakarma]

Satisfaction [Part 1]

Lewis Hamilton x reader

Summary: Four times you tried to befriend Lewis, and one time you didn't.

Word count: 2.1k

Tags: female!reader, asshole!Lewis (he will get better), physiotherapist!reader, no romance yet, Lewis is being rude, reader is trying, cursing, a bit angsty, not beta read

Note: Lewis is being kind of an asshole, but I promise he will grovel a lot. This is a two part story. Gentle reminder that english is not my first language (so please bear any mistake), I'm also taking requests for F1 drabbles and oneshots (at this moment I'm writing for Lewis, Fernando, Max and Toto Wolff).

Find me on Twitter!

I.

You drank the rest of your iced tea in one gulp, pushing the nervousness away. It wasn't exactly anxiety, but more first-day jitters at a new job. Adjusting your ponytail, you stood up as one of the team approached.

“Y/N? It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Ellie from the HR team, we spoke on the phone. Lewis is around, so we thought we’d introduce you two now, okay?”

“Of course, of course, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie.”

Ellie showed you around, giving you a tour of the entire motorhome. You were aware that it was difficult to join a team after the season had already started, especially to take the place of a person who was very loved by everyone and who had been there for several years, but you were willing to do your best to get along with everyone.

Finally, Ellie took you to a training room, where Lewis was inside. He was sitting in an armchair, drinking water from a bottle when Ellie introduced the two of you. You smiled and offered your hand for a shake, but he just ignored his hand with a blank stare.

“Lewis, this is Y/N Y/L/N, your new physical therapist, you'll be seeing each other every other day” Ellie introduced them, not seeming to notice the cold way Lewis greeted you.

“Nice to meet you,” you murmured, trying to ignore the awkwardness between the two of you. Lewis just nodded his head briefly and turned to pay attention to his own cell phone.

Ellie then went over your entire routine for the next few weeks, as well as giving you a short guide to Lewis's physiotherapy sessions over the past two years, and required exercises from fitness to pre-race and post-race.

Your official working day began the following Tuesday at seven in the morning at one of the Mercedes workstations in Brackley, where the entire team was gathered. You needed to be there to look after Lewis' fitness as he had team meetings, and you needed to follow him wherever he went to be able to do your job. Honestly, it wasn't a big problem since you used to work with the Real Madrid football team, so you were used to the traveling routine.

As soon as you entered the building's small gym, Lewis was already inside, tying the laces on his shoes.

"Good morning!" You walked in with a smile, setting your bag aside and holding the two glasses of iced tea you had purchased on the way, “the weather is kind of warm today, huh? I bought iced tea for both of us.”

“No thanks,” Lewis said, standing up, “can we get started?”

The sharp tone left you speechless for a moment, but you soon recovered, tying your hair into a ponytail. You had hoped that the mood on the day you met Lewis was just because he was stressed or had some problem on that specific day. But it seems that today he also wasn’t very interested in being polite to you.

You took a deep breath pulling your iPad out of the bag where you had prepared the day's entire session. Okay, you were patient, you could win him over with time and maybe you could even become friends, or at the very least, on friendly terms.

“Alright, let’s start today’s session with some intense stretching to prepare your body for the intensity of the next few days’ sessions,” you murmured, pointing to the mat on the floor.

“Angela didn't use an iPad during our sessions,” he commented casually.

“Because Angela had been with you for years and had already memorized her exercises. Can we start?"

II.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late,” you said, entering the gym, plopping your bag on a nearby table.

“You could have a little more respect for other people’s time,” Lewis said, suddenly. You froze in place, your eyes fleeting to the watch high on the wall, that showed you were barely ten minutes late for the session.

“Yes, I’m sorry,” you repeated, pulling your iPad open.

You were a few weeks into your new job, and acquaintanceship with Lewis had not gone better in the slightest. If anything, it had gone even worse. Lewis was adamant in not opening up to you, not even in the professional sense of your work relationship. Every time you tried small talk, or even professional talk, he had shut you out barely politely. He was constantly annoyed by your presence, and didn’t engage in anything other than the exercises you were helping him with. You noticed his performance was going bad in the season, and you attributed his bad mood solely to that. That’s why you usually brushed off his rude remarks and his questioning of the quality of your work.

“We’ll do core strength today, Lewis.”

You spent the next two hours walking him through every exercise you had for the day. Sometime during your session, you tried to help him fix his posture by pressing a hand on his shoulder, but he brushed you off, only saying he was able to do it himself.

By the end of your session, he was visibly tired, and you reached in your purse to your small stock of protein bars. You grabbed two and tossed one to Lewis. He caught it in the air, staring at it with a frown.

“It’s a protein bar. It is healthy, vegan, and doesn’t taste like cardboard, for once,” you giggled, trying to strike up conversation, “honestly, I found this small brand from Hungary out of sheer luck and my life hasn’t been the same ever since, now I just order like this crazy-”

“Are we done?” He cut you off, you stopped smiling.

“What?” you said, staring at him going to his bag.

“Is our session done?” he insisted.

“Yes,” you said, deflated. Lewis walked away, and on his way to the door, he dropped the little protein bar you gave him in the trash.

You felt a lump in your throat, defeated. You had never had a client so difficult to deal with. Most of them were usually standoffish in the beginning, but they became friends with time, some of them you had a great relationship even now, years later.

Lewis just- he just hated you for apparently no reason, and it was making your professional life pure hell. It was hard not bonding with someone you work so physically close with. And honestly, you had tried everything in the book to help him acclimate to you, but he was just- immune. He didn’t like you, you had no idea if he even liked your job because he refused to give you any feedback whatsoever.

You refused to go to HR because it would make you look like a kid throwing a tantrum because the other kid doesn’t like you. What would HR do? Force Lewis to tolerate you? He would probably hate you more if that happened.

You just sighed, swallowing the tears as you left.

III.

“I was considering adding pilates sessions once a week, we can do reformer and clinical pilates alternating” you told Lewis as he did the final stretching of the session.

“I don’t like sudden changes in my exercise routine,” he said, getting up.

“Well, I believe it would do you good. And we can start slowly for you to adapt better. Does every other week work for you?” You taped your schedule on the iPad.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he muttered, visibly annoyed now.

“I can forward you a few articles I have been reading to show you, why I think it-”

“No, I don’t want that,” he shut you off completely, “can I go now?”

You sighed, enough was enough. You were pissed at him, being difficult, being annoying, fucking up your routine by being rude and being a fucking asshole.

“No, you can’t,” you said, voice firm, which kind of surprised him, since it was the first time you ever used that tone with him, “what is your fucking problem?”

“What are you talking about?” He folded his arms.

“What is your problem with me? Is it something I did? Or maybe something I said?” You pressed, walking towards him, the closest you have ever been to him.

“I have no problem with you,” he said and you scoffed, “we are not friends, you’re just my physiotherapist, nothing more, nothing less.”

You felt grateful he left as soon as he said that, otherwise he would have seen the tears filling your eyes.

IV.

“I went back to therapy, because I’m feeling like a failure,” you told Angela over the phone.

“Is he being so difficult?” She asked, sounding worried.

“You have no idea…” you whispered, pressing your temples.

“You want me to talk to him?” Angela said, concerned. You stared at your own reflection in the mirror inside the gym, seeing the dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep. The last encounter with Lewis was enough to take a toll on your mental health and trigger a bit of insomnia.

“No, I think it would make it worse, but I appreciate the offer,” you sighed, exhausted, “I’ll work around these difficulties, and if it gets any worse, I’ll call you so you can talk to him. Deal?”

“Deal. Just- Don’t burn yourself out, ok? I know how he can be hard to deal with. Let me know if you need anything.” Angela offered, and you wanted to cry with the kindness in her voice.

“Yes, of course. Thank you very much for letting me vent, yeah? Talk to you later” You said, and noticed how Lewis entered the gym, seemingly surprised that you even were there.

That would make two of you.

This time you went through your training session in complete silence, only talking about his physicality and the exercises. You didn’t joke with him, nor did you make commentaries on the session. You just did your job silently, staring at him with a blank face.

As you finished, you packed your bag and left without a word, going straight to HR to put in your resignation letter you had written during your day off.

V.

Lewis noticed your absence as soon as he entered the gym for your session. You hadn’t been late ever since that time he called you out the first and only time you were late. Since then, you were always there when he arrived. But you weren’t there and he felt something was off. Maybe you had a cold or something and HR forgot to tell him.

He walked up to Ellie’s office, knocking lightly before entering.

“Hey there, Lewis! Can I help you?” She asked, putting away a few papers.

“Hey. Where is Y/N?” He asked, sitting down.

“Oh, I thought she had told you… She resigned two days ago.” With Ellie’s words, Lewis felt his stomach drop, but Ellie just continued talking, “she said she didn’t adapt very well to the routine, which is sad considering she is such a big fan of Mercedes and Formula 1. And, you know, since she was a recommendation from Angela Cullen, I really thought she would fit perfectly with the team.”

Lewis felt his mouth go dry. He didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know you were a fan of the team, as he didn’t know Angela had put you in her own position after leaving. He felt so, so bad, he was suddenly nauseous.

“Did she say exactly why she was leaving?” Lewis asked, heart beating in his ears.

“She said she wasn’t adapting to the traveling routine and it took a toll on her. She also apologized profusely, but I told her it was alright, it happens more often than she thinks.”

Lewis knew exactly the reason you left. He had made you go through living hell by being a stubborn asshole. You tried to befriend him, to be nice, to start small talk, to be kind and his only response to your attempts were flat out rudeness.

“Well, these things happen, right?” Ellie shrugged, sympathizing with you more than Lewis ever did. “So, while we find someone to fill her position, you’ll do your pre-race and post-race with George and his physiotherapist.”

Lewis didn’t hear any of the other stuff Ellie said, guilt eating up at him with such force he was out of breath. He didn’t even think before treating you that way, his brain just turned to that everytime he remembered he was alone now, that he had lost his best friend and confidante. Stress of the season had also caught up to him making him more irritable than ever.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered as he left Ellie’s office, he needed to do something.

He called your phone, but you had blocked him already.

“Fuck, I need to fix this.”

[Part 2]

[porcelainseashore]

Us

Pairing: Guitarist! Leon Kennedy x Singer! Fem! Reader

Summary: You've joined Chris, Claire and Leon in Stars Rebellion as the band's new lead vocalist. If you thought chasing fame was hard, dealing with your growing feelings for a certain blonde guitarist might just take the cake.

Content & Warnings: Rock bands, friends to lovers, romance, slow burn, feelings realization, fluff and angst, swearing, recreational drug use, drinking, implied alcohol abuse, sexual harassment, suggestive themes, panic attacks, religious guilt, other Resident Evil characters (Chris, Claire, Ada, Wesker, Jill, Luis, Irons, Steve).

Author's Note: Mostly imagined RE4R Leon in this, though he's a cocky little shit in the beginning and mellows out later. As inspo, I’ve had Ethel Cain’s Michelle Pfeiffer on repeat and you’ll see why in the story. Special thanks to AliBelleRosetta for your wonderful feedback!

AO3 Link

It had only been a few weeks since you’d joined the Stars Rebellion, the band you were currently in, thanks to the recommendation of a friend of a friend. You’d somehow coasted along through college, finally free of your parents’ clutches, and made a new life for yourself along the way. It was as if you could be who you really were, without any tied past or history holding you back, and you’d never felt more alive.

You were backstage, warming up before it was time to head out for your first performance. Chris had come over to give everyone a pep talk, while Leon tapped out a beat on the body of his pacific blue Fender guitar impatiently. Claire was nodding away to her brother’s words as she frowned at herself in the cosmetic mirror, the bright LED lights illuminating her flawless skin. You sat at the back, quietly keeping to yourself as you always do, ignoring the jitters in your hands. The adrenaline was kicking in now, you were used to it. Soon, you’d be a completely different person. It was as if once you were on stage, a match was struck and you were on fire.

For now, you contented yourself with recalling the events of how you ended up with this motley crue. It had been a warm, humid Thursday afternoon, when you were done with your classes for the day, and you made your way over to one of the rental practice rooms at the back of a second-hand record store just a little off campus. Your friend Jill had told you that another friend of hers was looking for a new vocalist for their band. Seeing how you’d been singing on and off with various student bands that never really had the drive to go anywhere, she hooked you up, stating that said friend, Claire, was the most determined person she’d ever met.

So here you were, knocking on the door of the shabby, makeshift rehearsal room, covered in countless band and anarchic motto stickers.

“Come on in!” A chirpy, high-pitched voice called out.

The door creaked on its hinges as you opened it by just a crack, enough for you to poke your head through.

“Aw, she’s a shy one,” a boy with floppy, blonde hair who was sitting at the corner, hunched over his guitar remarked. His tone had no hint of maliciousness in it, just pure curiosity.

“Shut it, Kennedy.” The lady, wearing a distinct red leather jacket that matched the color of her hair tied back in a springy ponytail, rolled her eyes before greeting you with a warm smile.

“Hey…” She stuck her hand out, as you cautiously entered the room, taking in the new faces around you. “I’m Claire. You must be Jill’s friend.”

You returned back a feeble smile as you shook her hand. “Yeah, uh, and the Stars Rebellion, huh?”

“That’s right,” a beefy guy with cropped, dark brown hair behind the drum kit piped up. “Our previous vocalist left,” he paused, with his brows furrowed as if he had been reminded of something unpleasant. “You know how it’s like these days.”

You nodded understandingly as he continued. “We’ve got a sweet gig in about two weeks, so we need a replacement fast. You heard our stuff?”

“Yeah, ’course.” Jill had sent you all the recordings and info you needed to prepare yourself for today.

“Great, so-”

“Whoa, hold up a second,” Claire interjected. “Older brothers,” she sighed. “You know what they’re like.” She pointed towards the drummer. “Speaking of which, that’s my very own one over there.”

“Chris, say hello,” she ordered.

“Hi,” his monotone greeting accosted you while he waved over with a drumstick in hand. His confident and no-nonsense persona struck you as someone who was the natural leader of the group.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s really a cuddly bear underneath,” she whispered loudly enough for everyone in the room to hear. “Isn’t that right, Chris?”

He grunted in reply, still looking as stoic as ever, his square jawline unflinching, as if his sister’s words had no effect on him.

“Anyway, I guess you can already tell, I’m on bass.” She swayed her hips a little, gesturing towards the instrument that was strapped around her.

The blonde cleared his throat, seemingly irritated at being relegated to the position of the last person to be introduced.

“And that.” She pointed over to him. “Well, that’s just Leon.”

With a bold smirk, he cradled the guitar to his chest, as his fingers danced along the fretboard, unleashing a cool, intricate riff that spiraled through the air.

“Also a fucking show off,” Claire retorted.

You caught his gaze and the bright blue eyes that lured you in dangerously close, like you were Icarus flying towards the sun. He was one of those boys your father had warned you about. Handsome, charming, but the devil in disguise. You could still hear his stern words about perdition and hellfire booming in your ear. You closed your eyes before they hurt too much.

“So, erm, why don’t we start with the first track on our demo?” Claire’s voice snapped you out of your reverie.

Blinking your eyes open, you bowed your head slightly in response, before getting into position behind the mic. You can do this. A silent prayer reverberated through your head, as the opening chords played.

And just like it happened every time, that magical switch flipped, and you became someone else entirely different from yourself, yet it belonged to every part of you. As you bellowed, growled and sighed breathily into the mic like a rockstar on acid, you noticed a change in the air around you and how your future bandmates looked at you in awe. It felt like an electric current coursing through your veins. It felt like coming home.

You only needed to go through another two more songs, before they were completely floored and decided there and then that they wanted you in. The vibe between the four of you was great, there was no denying that. And you had already started throwing in some moves that were usually saved for performances with Leon, as all of you jammed together.

“That was fucking awesome!” Leon exclaimed, with Claire following suit. Even Chris was smiling widely.

“Yeah, that felt really good,” you panted, a little out of breath from the exertion.

All at once, Chris patted you on the back, cementing your entry. “Welcome to the family.” You felt your heart tug at the last word. Could you really belong here now?

“Nice to finally have another girl in the band!” Claire blurted out, as she pulled you in for a quick hug.

“Mm hm, very nice.” Leon gave you a cheeky wink, before Claire smacked the back of his head.

“Behave.”

“Oh, I will,” he snickered.

You shuddered, wondering how a silly remark like that could get you so riled up, as you chose to suppress whatever thoughts that came bubbling towards the surface. He was just one of those cocky bastards who would let fame get to their head, you discerned. Probably had a bunch of groupies lined up too. So you paid no more attention to him than needed.

A large, rough hand landed on your shoulder, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You good?”

You shook yourself out of the daydream, coming back to reality backstage, as you eyed the imposing, broad figure in front of you. “Yeah, I’m ready. Thanks, Chris.”

��Don’t mention it.”

As you strode out onto the stage, the crowd clapped and whistled, though the reception seemed rather lukewarm. Perhaps most of them were waiting for the later bands, who also happened to be the more established ones, to play. It didn’t matter though. Your job was to get them hyped up, and you knew how to do it well.

Leon nodded at you, indicating that he’d start running through the beginning licks of the song on the setlist you’d all prepped. At the same time, he gave you an encouraging smile, which eased the tension a little. Even though you’d only got to know him a few weeks ago, you soon realized that your first impression of him wasn’t exactly the most accurate, and that despite being an insufferable prick, he had another side to him that was caring and gentle. He’d patiently helped you run through the songs with him, and even took a couple of your suggestions in improving them. He hung out with you outside of band practice, wanting to get to know you as a person, and trying to make you feel comfortable within the group. Most musicians had a stick up their ass and would’ve never given you the time of day. But he did. You’d even go as far as to call him a lovable asshole.

As the whirring of Leon’s guitar filled the space, you clenched your fist, pumping it above your head as you let out a low snarl into the mic, before belting out the lyrics, your voice raw and powerful as it soared over the riffs and the steady rhythm of the drum and bass. At a particularly heavy drop, you leaped into the air, before landing on your feet and tearing through the vocals as you rocked out with Leon at the front, playing off the energy you exchanged with each other.

It was infectious, like a feverish dream, and the crowd’s excitement grew. Among the sea of bodies pressed together, you could just about make out the look of enthusiasm on their faces, their eyes sparking with the thrill of the moment, as they jumped, moshed and cheered to the music. Time seemed to pass by so quickly, as one song flew into the other. In between, you made sure to introduce the band, thank the organizers and the audience themselves, coaxing more screams and shouts in unison as you teased them about hearing another song, what it was about, praising them on how great of a crowd they were, and with a sly wink, asking them if they could give you more. And they were more than happy to oblige.

In the final track, a devilish grin broke out across your face as you turned towards Chris and Claire, both of them laughing and shaking their heads as they knew what was coming next, before you faced the audience again. Tapping your foot in time to the beat, you murmured sultrily into the mic, “You wanna see me swallow this mic whole?”

The crowd went mental at the proposal as your velvety laughter rang out across the venue. “Come on, you can do better than that.” You pouted, licking your lips suggestively. “How much do you want it?”

Once the crowd roared, you nodded in approval and pulled the cord of the mic taut between your hands, making a grand show of it, as you tilted your head back, slowly inserting the head of the mic downwards into your mouth. As it went in, you bit at the bottom of the head, gripping it securely between your teeth, as you went hands free and a scream ripped through your throat at the climax of the song. 

Sweat and energy radiated from every pore, as your band members kicked into action. Leon jutted his hips out, launching into a fierce, breathtaking guitar solo, his fingers pressing and weaving in and out of the strings like a blinding lightning. Claire remained the grounding force in a whirlwind of melodies, keeping a consistent beat effortlessly, as her head swayed from side to side. Chris added to the wall of sound with each strike and rattle of the snare drum, quickening the pace as he worked in the bass drum pedal and clashes on the cymbals in perfect timing, his eyes laced in concentration on the controlled chaos unfolding before him.

To say you ended in a bright explosion of sound was an understatement. The four of you hugged each other tightly and bowed to a resounding chorus of cheers and hoots, stamping their feet for yet another encore. You saluted and waved at them, your final words spilling out into the mic in gratitude, “Thanks so much, we are the Stars Rebellion! Have a good night!”

As you headed off stage, Leon pounced behind you, pulling you flush against his chest in a sweaty hug as you gasped in surprise. His hair was in a mess, darkened and clinging to his forehead in damp tendrils. “Holy shit, you were a completely different person up there! Y’know, like Ian fucking Curtis or something?” 

He blabbered on nearly incoherently, name-dropping various famous lead singers. “Karen O, yeah? And Alice Glass…”

“God, just give her a break already,” Claire giggled as she shoved Leon off of you.

You stifled a laugh, your meek personality returning the more you moved away from the spotlight. “Yeah, I guess? Um, thanks.”

Leon paused, looking at you in disbelief as he shook his head. “Jeez, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “Lady in streets, freak in the sheets,” he mumbled almost inaudibly as you choked on your saliva and coughed violently at his quip.

“Leon,” Chris warned, as Leon held his hands up in mock surrender. 

Turning towards you, Chris sighed wearily, “Sorry about that. You did good though.”

Before you had a chance to answer, an alluring, provocative voice interrupted. “You all did good out there.”

Spinning around, you came face-to-face with a stylishly dressed lady in a red, skintight catsuit and dark leather heeled boots. A sleek, black bob framed her face, highlighting her sharp features and high cheekbones. You noticed that she focused all her attention on Leon, even though she was addressing the group.

Leon’s eyes widened, her outfit clearly seemed to pique his interest, and you could feel Chris tense up behind you, as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. At this, Claire whispered into your ear with a hint of venom, “That’s Ada, the bassist of Midnight Sun.”

Midnight Sun. That rang a bell. They were one of the more established bands in the scene, though you’d heard rumors about how haughty they could be and that they would stop at nothing to climb their way up.

“Oh, there you are.” A man with slicked-back blonde hair and dark sunglasses sauntered over coolly. If someone had told you that he was an extra from The Matrix, you would’ve believed them in a heartbeat. 

The look of disdain was prominent on his face as he glanced over at you and your bandmates. He clucked his tongue derisively. “Tell me, what is it like being the warm up crew?”

Leon was about to lash out, but Chris’ reflexes were faster, holding his shoulder in a vice-like grip. Leon huffed, as he shrugged Chris’ hand off, conceding to remaining cordial for now.

“Wesker, you’re on next!” A stagehand called out from afar.

The man tipped his head in response, before wrapping an arm around Ada’s shoulders, pulling her away from your group as he smirked. “Watch and learn, amateurs.”

“Bunch of douchebags,” Claire muttered as all of you made your way towards the dressing room to freshen up. 

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Leon peering over his shoulder another time at the lady in red.

━━━━━━━━━━━

“Seriously? That’s what was written?” You groaned, chucking Leon’s phone to the side as both of you lay sprawled out on a picnic mat across a grassy hill which connected to a park. A couple of liquor and beer bottles littered your side. Clearly, this was more of a boozy brunch than an actual brunch at all. You should’ve known better than to trust Leon to prepare something substantial. However, whenever he was around you, it seemed like he would make an effort to control his drinking habits, at least to a point where he was only tipsy but not wasted each time.

Since the last gig, the band had received many other offers to play at various venues and Chris had been eager to accept them all, in the hopes of attracting a talent scout who would spot and sign you to a major label. You’d gone on stage a few more times, with each round bringing you new fans and followers, as well as getting hounded by music journalists. Claire seemed to have a word for everything and this was no exception. She described them as rats, and in particular, a man named Luis Sera proved to be the biggest one of them all.

You remembered his irritating voice which had a slight lilt to it, as he called out for you after one of your shows in the previous month. “Señorita… hey!”

He definitely had a flair for making a spectacle out of everything that he did, and soon you’d discover that he was also a master of exaggeration. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, mi amor.” He bowed his head dramatically, as he took your hand, bringing your knuckles to meet his lips.

In the end, your band had given him half an hour of your time, only for him to grossly alter whatever answers all of you had provided during the interview when the article was published. He had pitted the Stars Rebellion against Midnight Sun, when in your opinion, both bands sounded nothing like each other and he was just doing it to stir up sensationalist shit. In addition to that, he spent most of the article writing about your looks and sex appeal, as opposed to the actual music.

To be fair, that was part of your showmanship, but it seemed like yet another case of sexism in the industry, where other male vocalists weren’t subject to the same fate as you and the handful of frontwomen, who still cut their teeth and pushed forward.

“Great,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Now, not only have we become an even bigger rival of Midnight Sun, he’s got people wondering if I can actually sing at all!”

Leon seemed amused by your mini outburst, but was otherwise unruffled by the comments in the article. “That’s what journalists do.” He shrugged. “Create fucking bullshit and drama. What’s new?”

He turned over to face you, taking your hand in his and squeezing it briefly before letting it go. “You’re insanely talented, you know that. Don’t listen to them.”

You smiled at his affirmation. The past months had flown by in a blur, and along with it, your bond with Leon had strengthened. You were the very definition of fast friends, having discovered many similar interests and common topics of conversation between the two of you. Although he still made the occasional off-putting remark, and was a bit of an attention-seeker, especially among the ladies, you enjoyed the time spent with him. It felt like you could be yourself and could talk to each other about anything without judgment.

Judgment. That word aroused conflicting feelings within you. On the one hand, being on stage felt freeing and you could do so many things there that would’ve been considered shameful in any other public situation. It was as though you could ignore the judgment or were immune to it. Yet, when it was time to return to the ‘normal world’, judgment haunted you wherever you went.

“Got a question though.” Leon grinned, and you knew he was coming up with another one of his pesky jokes again. “Can you sing?”

You whacked his chest as he howled with laughter. “Alright, come on, look. We’ll do it together, ok?” He whipped out his phone again, tapping on his music playlist. “I just wanna hear you sing something softer, please?”

Sighing in exasperation, you gave in to his curiosity, clearing your throat as you exposed the falsetto that you’d been hiding all this while in the city you’d run off to for college. Leon joined you on the backing vocals as you flowed through the song together, while you tried to ignore his gaze which lowered at your lips, seemingly entranced by what he was listening to. A blush crept up along your neck as the song ended.

“Didn’t realize you had that side to you,” he muttered in astonishment. “Where did you-”

“Church choir,” you uttered abruptly, hoping he wouldn’t press further.

“Oh.” That seemed to surprise him even more. “Didn’t take you as the religious kind.”

“I’m not.” You swallowed thickly, looking away.

“Your parents-”

“Don’t know, don’t care,” you hissed through gritted teeth, a little harsher than intended.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t mean to-” He cut himself off, before sharing about his background instead. “My parents were kind of shitheads too. Well, mostly my old man.” There was another pause, as he shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “Liked the bottle a bit too much.”

“I’m sorry.” You placed your hand over his, as he brushed his thumb over your knuckles.

“Don’t be. The band’s our family now.” He shifted himself up to his elbows, kicking mud off his boots. “Anyway, we don’t have to talk about your folks if you want.”

You softened up at this, realizing that he still had your best interests at heart, though a part of you felt like divulging what you had kept to yourself for so long. “It’s embarrassing,” you began. “Singing like that, kinda reminds me of the past I wanted to leave behind.”

Twiddling your fingers anxiously, you continued. “My parents were very into that whole religious thing. You could say it was almost cult-like,” you laughed nervously. “It wasn’t what I wanted to be, so I got out of it.”

Frowning, you pursed your lips as a vague memory of leaving your hometown amid a heated argument and tears came to mind. “Haven’t spoken to them in years. Probably disowned by them by now.”

“Their loss,” he replied sharply, staring you dead in the eye.

It wasn’t something you had expected to slip out of Leon’s mouth, but he had articulated it so transparently. You raised an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“You could’ve been a great televangelist,” he joked, and you chuckled along with him, finding humor in the otherwise unpleasant subject.

“It’s too bad, isn’t it?” You took a swig of the vodka bottle he offered you, wincing as the smooth liquid burned its way down your throat. “You know, when I’m up there performing, it feels like I can be whoever I want to be.”

“You can be whoever you want with me,” he spoke softly. You tried to search for any disingenuity in his eyes, but found none. “I like you all the same.”

“I like you too,” you professed, only to contort your face in horror a split second later, as you realized the implications of what you had just said. “Uh, I mean, not like that,” you sputtered helplessly. “You know, like-”

He rolled his eyes and snickered. “C’mere.” Tugging at your hand, he pulled you in close, giving you a solid hug. 

Gingerly, you wrapped your arms around his neck, inhaling deeply and relaxing in his embrace. Both of you carried a mild scent of alcohol, but you didn’t care. You were just happy to find a like-minded soul who saw you for who you were, as you did with him.

A random thought popped up in your head that you wanted to run by him that instant. It gnawed at your chest, waiting to escape. “Leon?”

“Mm?” You could feel him nuzzling your neck and wondered if he had gone past being tipsy.

“What do you think about writing a softer song? Like something more emotive,” you explained.

He still didn’t let you go. “I think that sounds great,” he murmured into your ear. “We’ll write it together.”

“Just you and me, us against the world,” he added wistfully.

You wondered what had gotten into him, but the idea of working on this creative project together felt right to you. Like a link in the thread of fate that was meant to happen.

“Us against the world,” you repeated, sealing your fate, as you felt his smile against your skin.

━━━━━━━━━━━

On a hot, sunny afternoon, you were grabbing milkshakes with Claire, before heading over to the skatepark, where another friend of hers, Steve, was trying out a couple of new tricks. He had a slender build and spiky red hair, with a punk aesthetic. In other words, the perfect skater boy. You were pretty sure he had a crush on Claire, but she seemed to be either oblivious or ignored it outright. Whenever he landed a cool trick, he’d look over at Claire for approval, only for her to give him a friendly thumbs up. 

While you sat by the benches, Claire turned towards you, wiggling her eyebrows as she commented, “You and Leon have been hanging out a lot together lately.”

“Uh huh.” You tried to appear nonchalant about it, as you sipped on your milkshake guardedly.

Truth be told, the increasing amount of time spent with Leon was causing certain inconvenient feelings to grow within you. You lied to yourself, claiming you saw him as nothing more than a friend. Falling for a lovable asshole was out of the question, especially one who might break your heart. Yet, the day where both of you drank in the park, accepting each other in ways you never thought possible, constantly replayed in your mind. Then there was the song you were working on together, the late-night calls, and the pick-me-ups for days when either of you needed support. He would drop everything to help you, and you were there when he sought comfort.

Each time you saw him flirting with one of the female fans or exchanging coy looks with Ada, you died a little inside. He was just a horny 23-year-old guy chasing after anyone with legs - at least, that's what you tried to convince yourself. So, you stayed silent about the whole affair, holding back how you really felt about him, in order to preserve your friendship.

“Anything going on between you two?” Claire asked casually.

What else could you expect from a final-year Communications major? Of course, she would have picked up on how weird you’ve been acting lately.

Still, you continued fighting a losing battle. “We’re just friends,” you asserted, poking absentmindedly at the leftover froth and cream in your drink with the straw.

She wasn’t having it though. “The question is, do you want it to stay that way?” Checkmate. You could almost see her gloating at you as you froze.

You shook your head, sighing defeatedly. “It doesn’t matter, he’s into other girls anyway.”

“Have you told him?” Crap, she got you there again.

You just gave her a noncommittal shrug.

“Look, I’m gonna level with you.” She set her drink down with an air of determination, as if she meant business. “In all my sad years of knowing that loser, he’s never behaved this way with a girl like you. Maybe he just needs a little push to see that.” Folding her arms, she cocked her head to the side. “You should tell him.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” You sucked up the rest of your drink until there was nothing more than the bubbly, gurgling sound of air and drops of fluid. With a mischievous twist of your mouth, you added, “By the way, you should probably tell Steve you’re not interested.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When you had finally plucked up the courage to try and tell Leon about your true feelings, things didn’t go exactly as planned. For starters, he had been rather distracted about the upcoming music festival that your band would be participating in and specifically, a promo event that was tied to it. It was all he wanted to talk about, so you couldn’t get a word in.

“It’ll be the perfect opportunity to get noticed,” he pleaded. “You have to go!”

“I’m not- I don’t do very well in these types of social situations,” you argued. “You know that.”

“Excuses,” he huffed dismissively. “It’s gonna be fun, come on.”

“Chris and Claire will be there with you,” you countered again.

Placing his hands on your shoulders, he declared, “No, I want you.”

Although you knew he didn’t mean it any other way, your cheeks flushed as you turned your head away, heart throbbing at the innocuous statement he had just uttered.

“I’ll be there beside you, the whole time,” he promised. “Please, just come along?”

Biting your lip, you weighed your options, even though your emotions had already gotten the better of you, and you had made your decision regardless of what he might say. “You swear?”

“Cross my heart.”

Unfortunately, you wish you had never agreed to him in the first place, because 24 hours later, you were singing an entirely different tune.

Leon had picked you up and headed over to the event with you as arranged. It was held at a swanky members-only club with a lot of pomp, ass-kissing and too much champagne. You felt completely out of place there, but tagged along like a lost puppy behind Leon, who was reveling in the publicity and getting to know who’s who. A number of the other festival bands were there, but you weren’t particularly close to them beyond a courteous ‘Hello’. You fiddled with the cocktail that Leon had got you, praying that the Redfield siblings would show up sometime soon.

At some point, Leon caught your attention, every so often looking over his shoulder for something, or someone. “I, uh, I need to head to the restroom.”

You nodded in puzzlement, wondering why he seemed so shifty all of a sudden.

“Cool, um, I’ll make it quick.” He gave you a sheepish smile and a wink before heading off hurriedly.

He looked even apologetic? You shrugged off that thought, nursing the lone drink in your hands as you thumbed the fabric of your silvery playsuit. After a while, you checked the time on your phone. A good ten minutes had passed, but he hadn’t returned. Weird, did something happen to him?

As you continued waiting, it started to dawn on you how oppressive and suffocating the atmosphere was. It reminded you of the times when you were surrounded by the rest of the community you’d grown up with in church, scrutinizing your every move. Cold sweat formed on your palms as your breathing grew rapid and shallow. A sense of dread developed within you as your vision narrowed.

Oh god, oh god, not here, no… You latched onto the wall for support, trying to apply the tactics you usually used to calm yourself down.

“Hey there!” Claire’s upbeat voice pierced through the downward spiral you had nearly been consumed by. “Where’s Leon?”

“Um, he went to the rest-”

“What the fuck.” Claire’s jaw dropped wide open and when you followed her line of sight, you understood why.

From afar, you spotted Leon and Ada in tow, sneakily heading out of the restrooms. Bold red lipstick was smudged across Leon’s face as he wiped away at it furiously, and his pants remained unzipped, like an afterthought. Ada combed through her ruffled hair with her fingers, adjusting the bottom of her figure-hugging dress. There were no guesses as to what had occurred there. Your mouth ran dry.

“That fucking-” Claire growled. “Ugh, I’m gonna wring his neck!”

“Claire, it’s okay.” You tried to placate her, but your voice was quivering.

She turned towards you, eyeing you sympathetically as she rubbed your back. “I’m sorry,” she offered. “Well, Chris is getting some drinks. Let’s go join him?”

You accepted, making your way towards the refreshments table, still mulling over what you had just seen. As you picked up a glass of sparkling wine, Claire relayed the entire scenario over to Chris, who just shook his head disapprovingly.

A few moments later, Leon had stumbled upon your group. “Where’ve you been? I was looking all over for you!” He barked, visibly frustrated at your disappearance.

Claire scoffed, and without another word, bumped against his shoulder as she brushed past him. Chris followed suit, without the bumping, though he made a face at Leon as he chugged down his beer. They expected you to come along, but you hung back, giving Leon one more chance to redeem himself.

“What’s up with those two?” he muttered in annoyance.

You held his gaze impassively. “What took you so long?”

“Is this a trick question or what?” He couldn’t look you in the eyes as he tried to evade your quizzing.

But you didn’t let up, not budging from your place until you had an answer.

He threw his hands up in exasperation. “There was a queue, okay?”

A rush of disappointment and heartache surged through you. The least he could’ve done was to be honest with you, but he hadn’t even managed that. He was lying directly to your face, which currently felt as if it had been given a tight slap in humiliation. With whatever dignity you had left, you excused yourself from the table, heading over to the Redfield siblings, as Leon looked on in incredulity and disbelief.

You spent the rest of the evening with Chris and Claire, who were mostly interested in the free food and drink, and knew a couple of the chiller, more down-to-earth musicians on a personal level. In an unexpected turnaround of events, you were actually having fun chatting with people who appeared to be on the same wavelength as you and making wisecracks about corporate functions like these.

In fact, it served as a fairly effective distraction from the boy you were pretending didn’t exist. He lurked around like a shadow, leaning against the walls in the corridors and the sides of the rooms. You saw him everywhere, hovering just within reach. Scowling moodily at you and your newfound friends, he tossed back a never ending supply of alcoholic drinks. You suspected he was on the verge of getting sloshed by now, and although a part of you was concerned about his well-being, you didn’t want to play the role of a babysitter, at least not for tonight.

Towards the end of the night, Chris and Claire had decided to take their leave and you would too, after getting some fresh air by the pool. However, this proved to be a mistake, as the minute you were left alone, you heard heavy footsteps shuffling up next to you. You felt a pit in your stomach, knowing well who it was before even facing the culprit.

“What did I do wrong?” Leon was slurring his words, and his eyes were glassy and bloodshot. The stench of alcohol on him was overwhelming.

Wrinkling your nose, you backed away, stating plainly, “You’re drunk, just take a cab home.”

“Don’t-” He grabbed your arm, attempting to steady himself. “Don’t walk away from me.”

“Leon,” you warned.

“What happened to us against the world, huh?” he retorted.

“Did you think about that when you ditched me to fuck around?” The accusation tumbled out of your mouth before you had a chance to rein it in.

His grip on you loosened, as guilt flashed across his eyes. “That- I, it wasn’t-”

“You’ve always been a bit of an asshole,” you interjected. “But a loveable one, who was also sweet and kind.” Tears started to collect at the corners of your eyes. “Now, you’re just completely horrible,” you spat, with a look of disgust plastered across your face.

Leon’s face contorted in anguish as he tightened his hold on your arm again. “Don’t say that.”

“I don’t like you like this,” you admitted, trying to break free from his grasp, as tears started to roll down your cheeks.

He tried to reach out with his other hand and caress your face, but you pushed it away. “Let go,” you demanded.

However, it seemed as if he couldn’t comprehend why you wanted to be as far away from him as possible. “I’m sorry,” he blurted out. “Can’t we just sort this-”

Then, something in you snapped. All the times when you had finally had enough and set your boundaries in the past, burning bridges along the way, came to a head. “No!” you yelled, shoving him off you, as he fell backwards and landed into the pool with a loud splash.

Some of the spectators laughed and jeered, as he floundered around mostly in shock, while you stormed off the site.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next band practice session was awkward to say the least. You were running a few minutes late and when you’d reached, you could hear the shouting from outside the door to the studio.

“... sleeping with the enemy!”

“How is Ada an enemy?”

“You’re always messing things up for us!”

“Okay, break it up you two.”

Expelling a hefty sigh, you swung the door open, and the room fell so silent you could hear a pin drop. You could feel their gaze on you as you placed your bag in the corner before getting to your usual position behind the mic, making sure to avoid any eye contact with Leon. The festival was coming up in the next month, and on top of that, you still had a smaller gig to play in between then. The last thing you wanted was for personal issues to get in the way of professionalism, so you buried your emotions deep within the abyss.

“Hey, um, you, uh-” Leon croaked out, trying to get your attention, but you ignored him, turning instead towards Claire.

“Sorry I’m late, shall we get started?”

Despite regarding you with a look of concern, she obliged and Chris counted off before all of you jammed to the opening song.

It continued on like this, where you gave Leon the cold shoulder. You had stopped hanging out with him and only communicated when necessary. He didn’t realize how much he would miss your company until it was gone. Things felt duller and emptier without you. Whenever he wanted to share his joys, sorrows and just the mundane things that were happening in his life, he’d try to call you, only for it to go unanswered. He left you countless voice messages, each more desperate than the last one, ranging from a mixture of hurt, blame and grief. It had only been a little over two weeks, but he was starved and alone, without the person he could truly count on. The song you had been working on together remained unfinished.

During the smaller gig you were playing at, you rocked out with Chris and Claire near the back, instead of vibing with Leon at the front. Maybe you were being petty with the way you were treating Leon, but he hadn’t given you a proper apology since the incident. The chemistry and connection between the two of you on stage was lost. Nonetheless, you gave the performance your all, and the fans went wild, so much so that when you crowd surfed, you ended up with shredded leggings and a bloody mouth. A random fan tried to grope you, but security intervened and you were dragged back up on stage by Leon, whose eyes were clouded with worry and apprehension. However, the adrenaline numbed the pain and you finished the gig on a high note, leaving the crowd buzzing with exhilaration and the sound of thunderous applause. It was a confidence booster and a great way to warm up for the festival gig.

Backstage, Claire helped you with cleaning the cut on your lip, as you reassured her that you were fine and such injuries were inevitable when you threw yourself headfirst into the crowd. She made you promise not to pull that stunt again, at least for the foreseeable future, before leaving you to finish up.

Just as you were heading out to regroup, an older, bearded man with neatly styled, graying hair and donning a snazzy waistcoat approached you.

“Brian Irons.” 

He held out a sleek, matte finish card with a crisp white background, his name in bold, black font in the center. Below, in smaller, elegant sans-serif type, were the record label he managed and his contact details. A thin, silver border surrounded the edges of the card adding a touch of sophistication. You took it from him, rapt by the design.

“Shall we speak somewhere in private?” he offered, beckoning towards one of the empty dressing rooms towards the end of the hallway.

In your elation and unwillingness to turn down such a timely opportunity, you jumped the gun, accepting his request immediately without waiting for your bandmates. Instead, you messaged them the details and informed them you would join them soon after.

“Amazing show,” he complimented. “You really are quite stunning.”

“Thanks, um, Mr. Irons.” You shifted your weight between both feet nervously, unsure of how to respond. Something in the way he looked at you made you seem like a prey caught in a bear’s trap and his words felt loaded.

“For you, it’s Brian, honey.” His lecherous tone sent shivers down your spine.

“Brian,” you echoed, slowly backing away to put some distance between you and the man.

“So, you kids wanna get signed, huh? Stars Rebellion, wasn’t it?” He advanced towards you with deliberate, measured steps, as if he were playing with his food at the dinner table.

“Y-yeah,” you stammered, regretting the decision you had made earlier and the direction this conversation seemed to be steering in.

“Well, I can certainly help with that…” 

Your back was flat against the wall now, as he sidled up to you, eliminating any space between you as he caged you in with his body. His breath felt hot and heavy against your cheek, and reeked of coffee and cigarettes. As his hand rode up your thigh, you closed your eyes, holding your breath as a nauseating wave crashed over you and you tried not to puke.

“The fuck’s going on here?” A sharp, biting voice sliced through the air like a knife.

Brian pulled away and you saw Leon by the doorway of the dressing room seething with fury and a dangerous glint in his eye.

“Hey, easy there, kid. Just getting acquainted, that’s all.” Brian tried to laugh it off as a joke, but Leon wasn’t having any of it.

“Get away from her,” he ordered, his steely demeanor unrelenting. “Now.”

Brian backed off, but came up to Leon threateningly. “Talking back to me like that?” he sneered. “I’ll make sure you’re ruined, punk.”

Leon took a step closer, issuing an unspoken challenge. “Yeah? Go ahead, sue me.”

At this, Brian cocked his fist back before taking a swing at Leon. Leon ducked to avoid the blow, shoving him aside as he unleashed a quick jab which connected with Brian’s nose. Brian fell to the ground, whimpering in pain while covering his face with both hands. Blood trickled down, staining his shirt as he cowered before Leon.

“Touch her again and I swear to god I’ll kill you,” Leon hollered. “You hear me?”

Brian nodded furiously as Leon walked briskly across the room, wrapping his arm around your shoulder before leading you out with him. Once you were at a safe distance, he cupped your face in his palms, examining you for any further signs of injuries.

“You okay? Did he hurt you?”

You didn’t respond, instead you clung to him in a tight embrace as your body trembled uncontrollably. He held you against his chest, resting his chin on your head as he stroked your hair soothingly. Both of you stayed there for a while, locked in each other's arms, until he suggested, “Let’s get you home.”

━━━━━━━━━━━

When Leon had informed Chris and Claire about the events that had transpired, they vowed to keep a closer watch on you and each other. There was now an agreement that if the whole band could not be present at a meeting, then at least two people at the minimum should be there.

Your band had upped the intensity of the practice sessions, as the date of the festival loomed nearer. However, when Jill spontaneously announced that she was organizing a house party at her place, all of you jumped at the invitation, seeing it as a way to let off some steam.

At the moment, you and Leon were in this weird, intermediary state of being not quite friends, yet not quite on opposing ends either. It seemed as if it was eating away at him inside, since the minute he saw you at Jill’s place, he weaved through the throng of familiar faces and approached you, asking if you were ready to talk about the elephant in the room. It wasn’t possible to keep ignoring him forever and you were tired of all the arguments and drama that had occurred lately. So, you decided to let him into your life again, or maybe just a foot in the door for now.

In one of the quieter rooms of the house, you sat beside Leon as he initiated an apology for the first time for his prior actions. “I know it’s not enough, but I’m sorry, I really am.” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “I was a complete dick-”

“Yeah, you were,” you replied testily. “I panicked, when you, um, took your time.”

“What? Shit.” He looked down at his hands in shame, balling them into fists. “I’m so sorry. I really didn’t want that to happen to you.” 

Clenching his jaw, you saw him drown in a sense of self-loathing. “God, I keep fucking things up. Please-” He took your hands in his, squeezing them as if he were proposing. “I’ll make it up to you, just give me another chance to prove it.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “A lot.” It was as if a dam had broken, and he couldn't stop himself from pouring out all his admissions. “You weren’t talking to me, you weren’t returning my calls…”

“Whenever something stupid came up, all I could think about was how much I wanted to tell you about it.” His eyes glazed over, as if he were recalling a distant memory. “Guess I kinda took you for granted.”

Pressing your lips into a thin line, you made yet another decision against your better judgment. Although you had no guarantee that he would not repeat the same mistake, you placed your trust in him again, hoping that this time he would treat you as you deserved. 

“Okay.” You nodded, offering a weak smile. “We’ll try again.”

You yelped as he suddenly gathered you into a snug embrace, grinning widely from ear to ear. “I got you back,” he murmured into your ear.

“Don’t make me regret it,” you teased half-jokingly.

“Guys, get your free shit! Oh-” 

You and Leon quickly disentangled yourselves from each other as you saw Jill staring with her mouth hanging open. “Did I interrupt something?”

“No!” Both of you exclaimed in unison.

Jill rolled her eyes, her face etched with doubt, though she didn’t probe further. “Anyway, downstairs! First come, first served.” She jerked her thumb in the direction behind her, before trudging off to the next room.

“You wanna?” Leon gave you a knowing smile.

“Hell, sure, why not?” You shrugged, once again erupting in laughter with the boy you wanted to cuddle with and strangle at the same time.

So, that was how both of you ended up lying next to each other, strung out on a mattress facing the window. You knew the drill. Jill’s housemates were creative types whose generosity knew no bounds. House parties with them involved usually meant a certain supply of free drugs, which people could choose to engage in recreationally. You figured you were being very rock’n’roll by doing it, but sometimes you enjoyed how open they made you feel, like you could loosen up and forget about the things bothering you.

As usual, you and Leon had taken the same pills as before, both of you agreeing to take care of each other throughout the duration of the high. He held your hand, interlacing his fingers with yours, as you giggled over a topic you had been discussing.

“Ready to watch the curtain breathing contest?” he chuckled.

“There.” You pointed in front of you, indicating that the shades were now moving on their own, like ripples in the tide.

“Atta girl.”

It felt nice like this, laying beside him. You could talk to him about anything in the world and he’d listen intently to you. That’s when you thought it was a good idea to make your confession. 

“I’ve liked you for a while now,” you gulped, your heart constricting though the urge to reveal your secret was stronger. “As in, more than a friend.”

He angled his head towards you, gazing at your expression with an affectionate smile. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Leon Scott Kennedy, asking me why-?” you snorted, clamping your free hand over your mouth as you struggled to hold in your cackles. As if he wasn’t aware he had a reputation for sleeping around with no strings attached. “I didn’t want to be just another notch on your bedpost.”

He tutted and sighed. “You wouldn’t have been. It’s different… with you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re one of the few people who’d tell me exactly as it is, you care to listen,” he explained. “It just feels right, being with you, and… I trust you.”

You were reluctant to take what he had said at face value, after all both of you were tripping. As if sensing your hesitance, he professed, “I like you too, a lot.”

Still, a part of you denied it. “You’re just saying that.”

He groaned in vexation. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Narrowing his eyes at you, he huffed in defeat, “Look, ask me again tomorrow when we’re sober, okay? Pretty sure I’ll say the exact same thing.”

“Fine,” you conceded. “You better not try anything right now though, ’cause I bite.” Baring your teeth, you snarled at him playfully.

“Uh huh.” He burst out laughing. “You’re kinda high off your face, aren’t you?”

“Just a little.” You winked.

“Alright, let’s try to get some sleep,” he grunted, shifting to his side as he extended his arms towards you like an invitation. “No funny business,” he promised.

You relented, nestling yourself into his arms with your back against his chest. He dipped his nose into your hair, breathing in the peace of the moment. Closing your eyes, you drifted off to sleep, your bodies spooned together in perfect symmetry.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The first rays of the morning light filtered in through the curtains, as you awoke to the collective chirps of the dawn chorus. You squinted, pressing a palm over your eyes to shield yourself from the sun, as you stretched yourself out against Leon’s sleeping body and yawned groggily. He stirred a bit from your movement, but easily fell back into slumber, snoring deeply. You remembered everything you had disclosed to him the night before and it scared you. What if he didn’t feel the same way when he woke up? What if it had all been a mistake? How would you be able to look him in the eye now? You felt anxiety rising in your chest.

Stealthily, you lifted his arm off you, creeping out of the bed and making your escape before you had to face the consequences of your actions. Grabbing your stuff, you snuck out of the room, tiptoeing so no one noticed you exiting the front door of the house.

It was about an hour later when Leon woke up, confused to find you missing from the mattress with him. Though in your rush, you had accidentally left behind your notebook, which you carried around with you everywhere to jot down inspiration for song lyrics. Picking up the chestnut brown, leatherbound journal, curiosity got the better of him as he flipped it open to the page you had bookmarked.

As he skimmed across the words you had scribbled down in your off-beat, cursive handwriting, he gradually realized that they were the draft lyrics to the song you had been previously working on together with him, before the temporary break in your friendship. He re-read the text again to catch the meaning between the lines. It was then that it struck him, you had essentially composed a love letter from within, expressing the depth of your feelings and yearning for him. It made his heart ache that you had been keeping this from him the whole time and he had been blind to it all.

Tapping your name on his mobile screen, he called you right away, but it went straight to voicemail. Fuck. What were you afraid of? He thought he had been clear in how he felt about you last night, but it seemed like you had gone into hiding again. 

Showing up at your place directly after this may cause you to retreat even further, but he was determined to win you over somehow. A plan began to hatch in his mind, as he drove home with your book in the passenger seat. Despite his exhaustion from the party, he set out to work on the music for the lyrics you had written, spending the rest of the day and even pulling an all-nighter to finish it.

After about a dozen energy drinks and cups of coffee, he marched up unannounced to the door of your dormitory, where you shared a room with another final-year student from your class, rapping on it several times for good measure. Your roommate opened the door, but her expression gave everything away before she had the chance to concoct any sort of tall tale. She could never really keep a poker face.

Placing his arm against the door to prevent it from closing on him, he called out your name. You appeared in his view then timidly, mumbling to your roommate that you would handle it. She packed up a few things and left, giving you and Leon some privacy.

“Your book.” He passed it over to you, before setting his guitar case down by your bed. “Open it.”

You glanced briefly at him in mild bewilderment, but did as he asked. It flopped open to a page with a deep crease in the center, naturally showing how frequently that section had been revisited. You gasped when you saw a bunch of chord notes written below the lyrics you had penned down from earlier. Your complexion turned a light shade of scarlet upon realizing that Leon had discovered your innermost thoughts, but there was no awkwardness in his behavior towards you, he was calm and collected.

Unzipping the case, he took out his acoustic guitar and perched himself on the edge of your bed. Resting the instrument on his thigh, he grasped its neck, tilting it slightly as he strummed a couple of opening chords.

“I pieced together the melody for this. Maybe you can join in when you’re comfortable,” he suggested.

It seemed he had memorized the entire song by heart, as he didn’t need your notebook for guidance. His mellow, honeyed voice cascaded through the room as he serenaded you with the song both of you had crafted, albeit separately. Now, you were coming together to bring it to life.

Seating yourself next to him, you harmonized with his vocals, pouring the entirety of your emotions and every moment of longing you had built up within you into the music, until the final note trailed off. Throughout it all, Leon had observed you closely, captivated by the raw, unfiltered quality of your voice and the vulnerability you displayed in your delivery of the lyrics.

His gaze lowered from your eyes to your mouth, as he leaned in, brushing his lips gently against yours, kissing you tenderly. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he caressed it, coaxing soft sighs and moans which he returned as you reciprocated the kiss. Panting as he came up for air, he traced your bottom lip with his thumb, feeling every dip and groove, as if mesmerized by its outline and shape. He didn’t need to utter a single word for you to understand that his feelings for you mirrored those you had confessed in the song.

Closing the distance, he pressed into your lips again, this time more fervently, as the kisses grew in intensity. His nose nudged against yours and you felt his warm breath tickling your skin, as he grasped the back of your neck, taking you deeper, breathing every essence of you in. Clutching his shoulders, you parted your lips slightly as he licked along the entrance, allowing his tongue to meet yours, twirling around it as saliva coated your lips, forming a glistening string between the two of you when you pulled away.

Grazing his knuckles delicately across your cheek, he asked, “Do you believe me now?”

You smiled, claiming his lips with your own in response.

━━━━━━━━━━━

The next time you performed the song live was at the festival, where thousands had gathered to watch the impressive lineup of bands. Chris and Claire had fallen in love with it when you and Leon had showed it to them, and were keen to expand the band’s range into something that delved into the territory of rock ballads.

All four of you wondered how it would be received by the audience, as it was rather different from the punk rock style your band was known for. Even so, you were psyched to finally showcase it to the public.

It was the song you ended with on your setlist, and the one which created such a poignant, special atmosphere, that it became a memory you would treasure forever. The hall fell into hushed anticipation as Leon plucked his guitar strings under the soft glow of the stage lights. Each note resonated deeply, minimalistic and stripped back, which added to the earnesty of the music.

Your voice opened the duet, intimate and haunting, as the melody unfolded like a story being told, rich with longing and a melancholic beauty that ached. The audience stood there entranced, as a soulful rhythm built up with the entry of the bass guitar and drums, adding another layer to the sound.

Leon moved towards you, sharing your mic as he sang his part, cementing a bond between you. Locking eyes with you, he pressed his forehead against yours, mingling sweat and tears as you both continued singing into the same mic, your heartfelt lyrics heavy with emotion. Some of the older people in the crowd sparked their lighters, while the younger ones whipped out their mobile phones, swaying them in time to the music, until everything was awash in a sea of flickering lights.

Your lips and Leon’s were barely touching as the last notes lingered in the air. His faint breath fanned across your mouth, as he swept his fingertips along your jawline, resting them under your chin. The space was thick with palpable tension, and your stomach fluttered just as it had the first time he had kissed you. Like a magnetic pull which he could not resist, he placed his lips over yours, kissing you again and again. It was as if the world had paused, just for the two of you. 

Singing this way no longer reminded you of punishment and shame, but rather of the connection you and Leon had. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he led you off-stage, past the phenomenal reaction of the crowd and the fist bumps shared between Chris and Claire.

Ada came around not only to congratulate him, but also to test the waters and seize the opportunity to flirt. Despite that, he held onto you tightly, maintaining a suitable distance from the woman he had previously been infatuated with, yet feeling nothing deeper compared to what he felt for you. It took him more than half a year, an explosive fallout and a few weeks of your absence to realize that. She smirked and shook her head, walking away as Wesker continued to ignore you.

Some things never change, yet some things had.

“How about some time alone?” he proposed. “Just us.”

Us. It was always meant to be about us.

You nuzzled your nose gently with his. “Yeah, just us.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

No Sugar Tonight 3

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Brock Rumlow

Summary: A regular customer becomes more than just a familiar face.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your shifts are often tedious. Slow and dull. You like the night shift because it’s not as stressful. Or was.

That night you spend looking out the windows in expectation. For each customer that walks across the tiles with echoing footfalls, you wait in expectation. They come and get their treats and go. None of them are him. That stranger. The one who looms like a shadow in your mind as he had that day on the street.

Dayani is late. You give her the keys with a yawn. You get a day off and you’re more than eager for it. You’re relieved to leave shy of the dreaded encounter.

You head off through the front doors and turn down the street. The tree planted between the sidewalk blocks splits in too and as a figure emerges from the shade. Oh no.

You make to walk past the dark-haired man who prefers his coffee black. He simply turns and walks parallel to you.

You glance over at him warily. He doesn’t look back. He keeps walking, only reaching blindly to take your hand in his. You go rigid but don’t pull away. You’re jittering in terror.

“What are you--””

“You think anyone’s gonna mess with me?” He says flatly.

“No, sir, but--”

“Brock,” he says, then recites your name. “Now we know each other.”

Your mouth opens and closes. His hand is hot and a woodsy cologne wafts from his jacket. His skin is rough against yours. He squeezes as if he can sense your reticence.

“Brock,” you repeat. “Okay.”

“You got a day off.”

It’s a statement. It’s without a sliver of doubt. How does he know that?

“I told you, you’re easy to follow. You need to look around more.” He reprimands. “Too late to see me. I’m here.”

His tone is eerie. It makes your skin tingle. He drags you on but not towards your usual route. He also told you not to take the alleyways.

“Sir, er, Brock?” You murmur.

“Those muffins are too sugary. You need a full breakfast.” He insists.

“Right, that’s... okay. Erm...”

“It’s a nice place. You’ll like it,” he says bluntly.

You don’t know what to say, or do. You want to run away but can’t. His hand is a snare and you’re a helpless rabbit caught in it. You look down at his thick fingers. You don’t understand. He was always so silent. You were sure he hated you.

He takes you into a diner. You’ve never noticed it before. It’s quiet this early. He brings you to a booth and sits across from you. You fold your hands in your lap as you sit on the bench and wait. You could try then to escape but you wouldn’t want to make a scene.

“Coffee, black,” he orders as the waitress comes by. He looks at you for the first time and as you ask politely for a green tea, he doesn’t look away. His eyes bore into you. The waitress goes to get your drinks.

“Quit.” He says.

You frown, “huh? What am I doing?”

“Your job.”

“My job?” You utter.

“No need for it.” He says.

“Sir, Brock. I... I have to pay my rent.”

“No. You don’t.” He lifts his menu and drops his eyes to the laminated list. “You have to eat.”

You follow his lead, only to have something to do. You take the menu and read it. The waitress returns and puts down your drinks. He gets sausage, bacon, and eggs. You get a waffle. She goes and you’re alone again.

“Good.” He says.

Your confusion tautens in your cheeks. Good what?

“Call your boss.” He says, “then we can enjoy our meal.”

“I really can't afford to quit–”

“I didn't ask. In fact, I didn't ask a single question. I'm telling you.” He sneers.

Your heart flips and you bit your lip.

“I'm more than happy to tell him myself. He pays you shit. I'll take care of you.”

“I don't… what do you want from me?” You croak.

He snickers, the most humour you've seen in him. He reaches for his cup and drink. He grimaces at the taste. “That's dog shit.”

You sigh impatiently. You're getting frustrated by his terse way. Somehow he is straight to the point but you're completely missing it.

“You. Just you. That's what I want.” He sits back and pushes his shoulders wide.

“Me?”

He stares at you and nods.

“Are you asking me out?” You wonder.

“I don't ask,” he jabs his finger into the table with each word.

“I… I don't know you, I–”

“You're too old for roommates. The place is shit anyway. Those old wires will start a fire and the sprinkled are rusted.” He overrides you. Again.

“No.”

“No,” he echoes with a snort. “Again, no question marks here.”

“You can't do this.”

“Can't do what? It's done.”

“No.”

“Give me your phone,” he demands.

“No, you can't–”

“Give me the damn phone. Now. Or I'll burn down that box you call a home myself.” His eyes are black pools that threaten to drown you.

You reach into your purse and take out your phone. He snatches it before you can react. His thumb taps and drags quickly across the screen. He puts it to his esr as the waitress returns with your food.

You thank her quietly as he ignores her.

“Yeah, I'm calling on her behalf. She quits.” He doesn't wait for a response. He hangs up and dials again. “She's tendering notice. Moving out. Fill the lease.”

In a few fell swoops, he's cut every string holding your life up. It all comes crashing as he hands the phone back and turns his attention to his food. You're not very hungry. A glance from him changes that. You lfit your fork to ease the edge in his jaw.

“Good girl,” he says as he cuts into the sausage.

[mariclerc]

just finished reading the new chapter of an unexpected role and MORE LILY x GRID INTERACTIONS PLSS

Thank you very much for this request!! I love writing Lily's adventures in the paddock, it seems very cute to me 🥺🥺🥺

An unexpected role (pt.6) | cl16

Summary: you revealed your little secret to your date, you didn't expect he would take it so well. Warning: none, just fluff as usual.

Follow the series!! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Sunlight streams through the window of the Ferrari motorhome. You're sprawled on a plush sofa with Lily, your two-year-old daughter, she sits beside you with a half-eaten cookie clutched in her hand. She giggles as a video plays on your phone, showing her interactions with the Red Bull mechanics earlier.

“Hey amore, are you almost ready?” he calls from another room.

“Almost, just gotta find Lily's lucky socks!” you say smiling.

Lily throws her head back and laughs, cookie crumbs flying everywhere. You scoop her up, tickling her tummy. Visits to the paddock are more frequent now, since the first race you and Lily attended everyone in the paddock and the teams love you both, it's like a breath of fresh air in the paddock, and not to mention the fans, after the initial hatred little by little they gave in and now they adore you two.

“Where did my little lucky charm get all this cookie on her, huh?” you say softly while looking at her.

“Dan-iel!” Lily says.

“Oh, Daniel spoiled you again, didn't he?” you shake your head.

Suddenly footsteps are heard approaching the room.

“There they are! My two favorite girls.” He says entering the room with a playful smile on his face. Charles ruffles Lily's hair, who squeals in delight. “Found those lucky socks yet?”

“Yup, she had hidden them in my bag. Naughty little girl.” You say with a giggle and then lean towards Lily and put on her socks and butterfly shoes.

Charles raises an eyebrow, amusement dancing in his eyes. “How about a pre-race cuddle session to appease the racing gods?”

Lily claps her hands and squirms out of your arms, making a beeline for Charles. He scoops her up, showering her face with kisses.

“Careful, you might give her pre-race jitters!” you say laughing.

Charles winks at you. “Nah, she's got Leclerc blood in her veins, she thrives on competition. Just ask all the mechanics she's been racing around the paddock with today.”

“Speaking of which, did you see the fan videos circulating online? Lily giving Valtteri a high five was adorable.”

“I know, right? It's amazing how much everyone loves having her around. You'd think she's been on the grid since day one.” he smiles softly.

You lean in and kiss Charles softly.

“She brings a different kind of energy to the paddock, doesn't she? Reminds everyone there's more to life than trophies.” you whisper.

“Oh, absolutely! You and Lily are my lucky charms, my whole world! Now come on, let's get this show on the road.” he said while holding you close.

You hand Charles Lily's stuffed bunny, a constant companion on race days.

“Go get 'em, champ! We'll be cheering you on from the pit wall, as always.”

“Always.” he kisses your forehead.

He takes Lily's hand, leading them both out of the motorhome. As they disappear down the hallway, you can't help but smile. Charles may be a racing champion, but in this moment, you and Lily are his biggest victories.

***

Charles emerges from the motorhome, Lily bouncing in his arms, her hair bouncing in a mini ponytail. The paddock is a hive of activity, mechanics bustling with purpose, engineers huddled over laptops, and fans straining for a glimpse of their racing heroes.

A collective gasp rises as Charles appears, Lily's bright eyes taking in the scene with wide-eyed wonder.

“Buongiorno everyone! Ready for another race?” he says while smiling to the fans in the paddock fan-zone area.

The crowd erupts in cheers.

“Forza Charles! And ciao bella Lily!” says a smiling little fan while waving his hand.

“Ci-ao!” Lily says waving her little hand.

Charles chuckles, then spots Logan Sargeant strolling towards them, a grin plastered on his face.

“Leclerc! Looking sharp today, even with your little pre-race mascot.”

Lily reaches out, giggling. “Lo-gan!”

Logan scoops her up in a playful hug, earning another round of cheers from the crowd.

“Looks like you've got some competition this weekend, mate.” Logan giggled.

Charles feigns a frown. “Don't worry, Sargeant. I'm sure I can handle a little competition... Especially when she's this cute.” He winks at Lily, who giggles and buries her face in his neck. Photographers snap pictures like crazy, capturing the adorable interaction.

“Looks like someone's got a lot of fans to sign autographs for today.” You say walking behind them.

“Only the best fans, amore. Now, come on, let's get down to the grid. It's showtime!” He says, handing Lily back to you.

You follow Charles through the throng of fans, Lily nestled comfortably in your arms. As you walk, you hear snippets of conversation, all praising Lily's cuteness and the joy she brings to the paddock.

One little girl, clutching a Ferrari flag, yells out:

“Good luck, Lily! You too, Mr. Leclerc!”

Lily waves enthusiastically at the little girl, a smile splitting her face wide open. You glance at Charles, a silent understanding passing between you. This little girl, surrounded by the roar of the engines and the cheers of the crowd, is exactly where she belongs. The paddock may be her playground for now, but who knows? Maybe one day, she'll be the one stealing the show on the grid.

***

The roar of the crowd intensifies as they approach the grid. Charles, focused on the upcoming race, gives you a quick but reassuring squeeze on the hand.

“Alright ma belle, listen. I gotta get ready. You and Lily find a good spot at the pit wall, alright?”

“Don't worry about us, we'll be your loudest cheerleaders. Go get 'em, champ!” you say while nudging him playfully.

He leans down and kisses Lily's forehead.

“Be good for mama, okay? And remember, papa loves you the most.” he says to Lily and he gives her a little kiss on her cheek.

Lily giggles, clinging to her bunny plushie. A young Ferrari mechanic, a teenage girl with grease stains on her overalls, approaches you both shyly.

“Hey there, little super star. You want to see the car before the race starts? It's super fast, just like you!” the mechanic tells Lily timidly.

Lily's eyes widen with excitement.

“Would you like that, Lily?” you asked Lily while smiling.

Lily nods enthusiastically.

“Thank you so much, that would be amazing!” you tell the mechanic.

The mechanic beams, clearly delighted. “No problem at all! Follow me, little miss.”

The mechanic leads Lily, her eyes sparkling with wonder, towards the gleaming red Ferrari. You watch them go, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. The paddock, once a world of flashing lights and roaring engines, has become a second home, filled with people who adore your little family.

You find a spot at the pit wall, just as Charles takes his position in the cockpit. He looks out towards the crowd, his gaze locking with yours for a brief moment. You give him a thumbs up and a reassuring smile. He nods, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

The lights go out, plunging the grid into an electrifying darkness. Then, with a deafening roar, the engines ignite. Charles is off, a blur of red against the grey asphalt. You hold Lily close, her tiny hands clutching her bunny plushie.

“There he goes, baby! That's papa!”

Lily doesn't take her eyes off the track, her small voice joining the chorus of cheers as Charles battles for position. The race is on, and you know, no matter what the outcome, this day, filled with love, family, and the thrill of the race, the paddock visits will always be one of the best adventures for you and Lily.

***

Lily's eyes are glued to the track, tracing the red blur that is Charles' car with rapt attention. You, however, find yourself drawn to a group of young engineers huddled nearby. Their animated discussion, usually filled with technical jargon, has an undercurrent of worry that sends a shiver down your spine.

You catch snippets of their conversation: "front wing damage," "pit stop for repairs," "crucial time lost." A pit stop this early in the race could throw Charles' entire strategy off balance.

Anxiety gnaws at you, but you force a smile for Lily, brushing back a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

“See that big red car down there, honey? That's papa! He's having a little trouble with his car, but the clever engineers will fix it up in no time, alright?” you whisper softly at Lily.

Lily nods, her brow furrowed in concentration. The little girl beside you, normally brimming with boundless energy, seems to have sensed the tension in the air.

“Why don't we send papa some good luck vibes? Close your eyes really tight and think of the fastest, strongest Ferrari ever!” you whisper again leaning closer to her.

Lily closes her eyes tight, squeezing her stuffed bunny with all her might. You follow suit, a silent prayer forming on your lips for Charles' safety and a successful race.

Suddenly, a flurry of activity erupts in the Ferrari pit lane... Mechanics scramble, tools glinting in the afternoon sun. Charles pulls into the pit box, the red flag forcing an unplanned early stop. You watch with a mixture of apprehension and admiration as the team works with lightning speed, their practiced movements a well-oiled machine.

Just as your heart starts hammering against your ribs, the pit stop ends. Charles, with a fresh wing and a determined glint in his eyes, roars back onto the track.

The red flag is lifted, and the race resumes with renewed intensity. The crowd erupts in cheers, their anticipation hanging heavy in the air. You grab Lily's hand, squeezing it tightly.

“There he goes! Now let's see papa show everyone what a true champion is made of!”

Lily beams, a spark of mischief returning to her eyes. She raises her tiny fist in the air, chanting along with the crowd. “Go papa go! Go papa!” she smiles shyly.

You watch, a rollercoaster of emotions churning inside you, as Charles battles his way back up the field. The race has taken an unexpected turn, but one thing remains certain: your family is in it together, for every pit stop, every thrilling overtake, and every victory (or defeat) that awaits your family on the racetrack.

***

Disappointment hangs heavy in the air as the winner's car streaks past the finish line. Charles follows close behind, his red Ferrari a blur of consolation. The crowd, initially buzzing with anticipation, erupts in a mix of cheers and groans. Lily, perched on your shoulders, scans the track with wide, confused eyes.

“Papa?” Lily asks you with a tender look.

“There he is, honey! Look, it's the red car!” You point to the part of the track where Charles' car is located.

Charles navigates his way through the final corners, bringing the Ferrari to a stop in the designated post-race area. The roar of the engine fades, replaced by a wave of mixed emotions washing over you. While a tiny part of you yearns for the elation of victory, the bigger part swells with pride at Charles' fighting spirit. He may not have secured the top spot, but he fought hard, his skill evident in every daring overtake and smooth maneuver.

Mechanics swarm the car, their faces etched with a mixture of disappointment and respect. Charles emerges from the cockpit, his helmet tucked under his arm. His expression is a mask of controlled emotions, but a flicker of disappointment momentarily clouds his eyes.

He scans the crowd, searching for his family. When he spots you and Lily, a wave of relief washes over him. He strides towards you, a determined glint returning to his eyes.

“There you are! Come here, mes amours.” He says addressing the two of you.

You weave through the throng of fans, a mix of congratulatory pats and sympathetic murmurs on your way to Charles. The air crackles with the post-race energy, a bittersweet symphony of cheers and dejection.

Charles scoops you both into a tight embrace, the familiar scent of adrenaline and sweat wrapping around you. You bury your face in his chest, offering silent comfort for a battle well fought but narrowly lost.

“You were amazing out there, Charles. We're so proud of you.” You whisper as you give him a kiss on the cheek.

“I know it wasn't the win we were hoping for, but...” he kiss your forehead.

He trails off, his gaze falling on Lily, who watches the post-race celebrations with a furrowed brow.

“Hey little champ, what do you say we celebrate papa's second place with some ice cream? How does that sound?” He says smiling at Lily.

Lily's face lights up with a radiant smile, all traces of confusion forgotten. “Ice cream! Yaaay!”

Charles throws his head back and laughs, the sound a welcome release after the tension of the race.

“See? Second place isn't so bad after all, especially when you have the best pit crew a driver could ask for.” He says smiling at you.

He winks at you, the familiar spark back in his eyes. You smile, knowing that win or lose, your family bond remains the strongest trophy of all. Together, you navigate the bustling paddock, Charles and Lily hand in hand, ready to celebrate his second place and the unwavering love that binds them. The race may be over, but the joy of being together remains the most precious victory.

***

As the three of you walk through the paddock, several staff members and the drivers stop to say goodbye to the three of you... In particular, say goodbye to little Lily, since she has become the little princess of the paddock.

Lily lets out a little scream when she sees Oscar. “Osc! Osc!” she says, jumping up and down and smiles when she sees the young Australian. “Mama! Can I... 'ay goodbye to Osc?” She asked you and you smiled at her.

“Of course you can, honey pie! But be careful, okay?” you said sweetly and she let go of your hand and walked towards Oscar.

Charles let out a small chuckle as the two of you looked at Lily walking towards Oscar, Obviously you two followed her closely, but without stopping her little adventure.

Oscar looked down to see Lily, who had a smile from ear to ear. “Oh, hello there little Lily!” He said giving her a smile and bent down to take her in his arms. “What are you doing walking around the paddock alone? You know it's bad, right?” Oscar told her and she just stuck her tongue out at him as a joke.

Lily turned her little head towards you and Charles. “Mama and papa, there Osc!” She said pointing to Oscar where you and Charles were standing, you smiled at the young Australian.

Oscar smiled at the two of you and moved a little closer to you. “Hey, congratulations on the podium Charles!” says Oscar, greeting Charles friendly. “I got scared when I saw Lily walking alone in the paddock... Why did she come towards me?” He asked with a small grimace on his face.

You smiled softly. “Well she wanted to say goodbye to you.”

“Yes... And apparently she fell in love with you.” Charles said softly and Oscar's eyes widened.

“Oh, that’s so cute Lily!” he said as he hugged Lily.

“Bye Osc!” Lily said as she got out of his arms.

Both you and Charles said goodbye to the Australian and headed towards the exit of the paddock with a Lily who was somewhat curious about her surroundings.

***

When you got to the hotel room, Lily was quite exhausted from the day of adventures she had had, so, with the help of Charles, you gave her a bath and put her pajamas on. Between the two of you, you told her a bedtime story while she snuggled with her stuffed bunny Mimi.

Charles leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Sweet dreams my little one. I love you.” he whispered sweetly towards Lily.

“Luv you da!” she said a little sleepy.

You leave the joint room and you stood in your place. Charles turned on his heel and looked at you.

“Are you coming love?” he asked tenderly.

You blinked. “Yes... Yes honey, just give me a moment, okay?” You tell him and he nodded as he walked to the bed that was in the center of the room.

Carefully, you opened your travel bag and took out an envelope with some papers that you had been processing for a couple of months. With the help of Fred, Lorenzo and Pascale you were able to do this, you wanted Charles to officially be Lily's dad... And maybe they don't have a blood relationship or anything else, but the connection that exists between the two of them and, in general, between the three of you, is something incredible and even though neither you nor he are married, the fact that Lily bears his last name is more than enough for you.

You carefully walked back to the room with the envelope behind you. “I would like to give you this.” You whispered softly while you handed him the envelope and he sat on the bed.

He looked at you somewhat confused. “What is this darling?” he asked.

“Find out for yourself... Open it.” you whispered again.

He opened the envelope delicately and took out the papers, some contained the entire legal process to be able to have paternity rights, kinship by affinity and so on, until he reached the last one that said: Lily Marie Leclerc, he looked at you with watery eyes. “Honey... I.” he said with a small voice. “I'm... I'm her dad, chérie... Tell me it's not a dream.”

You smiled at him. “It's not a dream my love, you're officially her dad.” you said and hugged him with all your strength. “Happy Father's Day mon amour!” you whispered and placed several kisses on his face, he couldn't believe it, he was officially a dad.

“Oh god, this is.. This is the best gift I have ever been given in my life! Oh mon cœur, thank you for this!” He said now with happy tears running down his face and you smiled lovingly.

“It's nothing baby boy... I thought, well, we should make it official.” you giggled.

While you two were hugging each other, a new adventure began for your little family... The now Leclerc family and you simply couldn't be happier about this, because you and Lily feel happy, much happier than you both had been before you met him.

[wasteddmoondust]

pineapple || james potter

pairing: james potter x reader 1,219 words, teacher and james go on their first date! what could go wrong? a/n: can you tell i am horrible at titling my fics... somehow i just need it to relate to what happens. so uh. enjoy!

prev. chapter

You feel your heart going absolutely crazy. You know it's first-date jitters, but somehow it feels worse this time. It's nothing special, really. You try to tell yourself. Just another first date. Just like other first dates (that has turned to nothing...) And now this first date is the father of one of the children you teach. Yeah, nothing special.

After several attempts to make yourself busy by looking at your phone, you hear your name. It's James and he's walking up to you.

"First name basis already?" you ask smugly.

He chuckles, "What? Sorry, I guess I'll just call you-"

"Please don't, I hate being called that outside of work."

"Got it."

The two of you walk together and he leads you to a quaint coffee shop, James swears by the coffee made here. When the orders are made you find a seat and sit down.

"It's been a while since I've been on a date," he says, hands fidgeting with the receipt.

"Same here," you admit.

He stops playing with the receipt and furrows his brows. "Really? But I'm the parent."

"And I'm the one taking care of your kid for a whole day, 20 kids, actually."

"Huh... and you don't even meet people in the industry?"

You snort. "Unfortunately no, a lot of them are older and married with kids. There's no one to date there. Trust me, even the older teachers try to make me get on dating apps. If anything, you're doing them a favour."

He grins that grin that makes your heart do a little flip. Oh god, it's happening, huh?

"I'm happy to do that."

You continue your conversation, keeping it light with small talk. Then, a waiter comes by to give you your meal and you both thank him. James' phone dings, he checks the message and he replies to it while you patiently wait for him.

He looks back up at you and keeps his phone. "Sorry, my best friend is taking care of Harry today, he was just sending an update."

"That's alright. Is he doing okay?"

"Harry?" he asks, looking a little nervous. His arms are resting crossed on the table. "Uh- yeah. He's fine. Not so sure about Sirius. He just said he's letting Harry use his tattoos as a colouring book."

You laugh. "Yeah, I can see that. He does love to colour. Have you always wanted to be a father?"

James looks stunned, but laughs it off. "Not a normal question for the first date, is it?"

"Well since you already are one," you shrug.

James thinks for a while before answering. "Yeah... I've always wanted kids... Well I'm sure you've seen from the documents I sent to the school when Harry enrolled. I'm widowed..."

You nod, you do in fact know this, you had read through those documents for every child. Understanding their family structure and dynamics can be a big help in understanding the child and improving their development in school and at home.

"She uh- had complications at birth and didn't make it." He let out a sigh and shrugged. "So now it's just me and Harry. And I wouldn't trade him for the world.

"You really love him, don't you?"

"I do."

"You know you can talk about him, right?"

James looks down and purses his lips. "It's just that... other people I've dated weren't really... keen on the fact that I have a kid. You know, another person's child and all."

You tilt your head down to try and make eye contact with him. Somehow, your hand reaches out to his. "You know that doesn't matter to me, right? I already knew you had a son, hell, I even taught him for a whole year, and I still accepted your date."

His mouth forms a small frown, but his hand grabs yours anyway. "I just didn't want to seem weird."

"You're not. Promise," you give his hand a squeeze.

"Is it too early to want to kiss you?"

You both stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing, making him laugh too.

James starts to tell you about Harry, and visibly gets more comfortable the more he does it. He tells stories from his first words to potty fails. He shows videos and pictures. From there, the both of you fall into an easy rhythm of branching from topic to topic in your conversation. You exchange bites of your food. Before you know it, you're laughing while your meal is long done and you're both on your second cup of coffee.

For some reason, you feel an itch in your throat.

Nonchalantly, you ask, "Did your pasta have pineapple?"

"Yes, why?"

"Firstly, who the hell puts pineapple in pasta? Secondly, I think I'm having an allergic reaction."

James sits up in a panic. "Oh god- I'm so sorry-"

You cough into your first. "It's fine, it usually doesn't react as bad as it used to but I like to stay away from pineapples anyway. I'm not gonna die. Can you get me some cold water, please?"

He immediately stands up and gets you a glass from the counter. You down the glass in seconds and you feel better.

"I'm so sorry that was embarrassing-"

"You're sorry? I gave you a bite!"

"I forgot to ask, it's my fault."

He gently places a hand on your shoulder. "I'm so sorry, let me make it up to you"

"James, trust me, it's fine-"

"I'll bring you on a second date."

You furrow your brows. "You just saw me cough my lungs out from an allergic reaction and you still want to bring me out?" you can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness.

"I mean... I still find you attractive after all that so if you find me attractive after I rambled about my own child to you though you have taught him for this past year I don't see why not."

At this point, you're pretty sure your cheeks hurt from all the smiling you've been doing the entire time.

Despite your protests, James insists on driving you home. When you reach the entrance to your apartment building, he tells you to wait before rushing out of the car to open the door to the passenger's side. You giggle and take the hand he holds out to you as you step out of his car.

He tugs the hand that is holding yours to make you face him. He's so close, you're desperately hoping your cheeks don't show how flushed you are.

"So... same time next week?" you suggest.

He nods. "No pineapples this time, guaranteed."

"And you're allowed to talk about Harry."

He beams at that, looking down and letting out a sigh before looking back at you. "Is it still too early to kiss you?"

"Yes, but for now I'll give you this," you press a kiss to his cheek. You slowly walk towards your building, your arms stretching until you gently let go when you're too far away. "I'll see you next week!"

And like that, you disappear into the building. James is left standing there, still in disbelief of the entire day.

He lets out a sigh, smiling, and gets into his car. He 's so excited to tell Sirius when he gets home.

a/n: if i'm being so honest i have zero idea how most allergies work so please don't get technical with me... also!!!! thank you so much for the love on part one eek i am on a roll i'm so happy to be writing this series.

taglist: @willows-lane @celosiastarr @nsr-15

[3minsover]

another modern steddie au

Eddie gets invited to prom.

Eddie, the freak.

Gets invited by the captain of the basketball team, Jason.

And Eddie’s over the fucking moon, because he never thought he’d get a date to prom, let alone such a hot, popular one.

Sure, it’d taken a little convincing at first, because duh. Town pariah, cutest boy in school - it’s not an obvious match. But Jason seems sincere.

There’d been a time Eddie thought maybe he’d go to prom with Steve - back when they were in the same class last year - but of course Steve never asked, and Eddie didn’t have the stones to do it himself. Always had to go for the popular guy, the unattainable one, did Eddie.

Once Steve graduated, Eddie had been surprised to actually strike up a friendship with Steve on his trips to the local coffee-shop-vintage-vinyl-store hybrid where Steve now worked. He’d even asked Steve, only a couple days before Jason casually leant against Eddie’s locker and popped the question - his excitement and shock had made him blind to the group of jocks loitering with smirk-stained mouths just down the hall - if he’d consider accompanying him to prom just so he didn’t have to go alone. Just as friends though, obviously (except that Eddie would have combusted on the spot if it wasn’t just as friends).

Steve’s rejection of the invite had come swift, though not harshly, and not for any reason other than that he had tickets to see the Hoosiers play the Wolverines at the Assembly Hall that night. Eddie spluttered out reassurance that-

“I’ll be fine! Don’t worry about little old me! Hey, I’ll have Rob and Nance there, huh, even if they’re going together. I’ll crash their date.” But the enthusiasm fell out of his voice as he spoke.

Steve had been surprised, but supportive, when Eddie broke the news about Jason. he’d not said anything for a long moment, but then his face split into a smile that seemed too big for his face, and he offered Eddie a high five.

And so the afternoon of prom comes.

Jason’s going to pick Eddie up at 7, and for the whole day, Eddie’s been all jitters. He showers, shaves, fusses with his hair, his tux (borrowed from Wayne), his rings and chains, and at 6:45, Eddie sits down opposite Wayne at the dining table.

And he waits.

And waits.

7pm comes, and then 7:15. 7:30.

“He probably just got caught up,” Eddie justifies, if only to break the thick silence hanging over the kitchen.

“I’m sure, kid.” Wayne’s voice is sincere, but it does nothing to ease the swirling of Eddie’s stomach. 8 o’clock crawls nearer, and Eddie’s still sitting at his kitchen table, elbows itching where he’s had his arms folded on the table in front of him for so long. Wayne excuses himself, comes back a couple minutes later, and Eddie hasn’t moved.

Acceptance tastes bitter in Eddie’s mouth.

“He’s not coming, is he.” Eddie doesn’t need to phrase it as a question. Of course Jason’s not coming. Why would he? Eddie feels so fucking stupid. For a moment there, he really thought.

“No, son. I… I don’t think he is.”

“I’m gonna go change,” Eddie announces, failing to keep the wetness out of his voice. He stands, the chair legs scraping overloud against the kitchen floor, and stalks towards his bedroom. He’s tugging at his tie and blinking away stinging tears when four sharp knocks come from the front door. Eddie’s nearest, and his heartbeat rockets. he races over, yanks at the handle flinging it open to find-

Steve.

Steve Harrington is standing on his front porch, fidgeting with his tie. Because he’s wearing a tie. And a suit. His cheeks are flushed, his hair a little damp still, and he’s holding a single yellow dandelion between pinched fingers. He looks so fucking handsome Eddie could cry. Or kiss him. Or kiss him and then cry.

But Steve’s at the Hoosiers game. Or-

“Steve…? I don’t…”

“Wayne called me.” Steve dips his chin self-consciously, looking up through thick lashes.

“And you- But you’re- The game?” Eddie blinks furiously, blindsided by the sight of Steve Harrington in a tux offering him a flower for his goddamn buttonhole.

“There’ll be other games. I’m only gonna get one more chance to take you to prom.”

“One… more?”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs, “I missed it the first time. Almost missed it this time too.”

“But you didn’t.” Eddie takes a half step forward, allowing Steve to slip his fingers under the lapel of his jacket and push the stem of the dandelion through the little stitched opening. He inhales a little gasp at the heady scent of Steve’s cologne so close all of a sudden. Their eyes meet, and everything else softens around them, fading only to shades of violet and blue in the dark. Eddie can see the bob of Steve’s throat as he swallows, but he can’t tear his eyes away from the rich hazel of Steve’s own to focus on it.

Eddie knows he’s smiling like a fool.

“I’m glad you could make it, son.” Wayne’s voice pops the moment like a dishsoap bubble, soft in the way that fall leaves are. Steve looks up and over Eddie’s shoulder, nodding bashfully.

“I’m glad you called.”

“Me too, Wayne. Thank you. No, really. Though I’m not sure I entirely love the fact that my uncle can get me a date better than I can.” The three of them laugh, the sound rising smoky into the night.

“You two have fun - but not too much, y’know.” Wayne’s mouth is set firm but there’s a recognizable spark in his eyes that Eddie is so glad they share.

“I’ll have him home by midnight, sir.” Steve plays the ‘respectful, demure date’ role so well.

“Don’t I get a say in that?” Eddie exclaims, whipping his head to look between the two of them. “Alright, take me to the dance, Harrington.”

“It would be my pleasure.”

In the end, they don’t make it to prom. Instead Steve drives them out to the overlook at Lover’s Lake, just the two of them, and they talk until the twinkle of stars is replaced by the first peachy hints of day. And Eddie thinks maybe prom is overrated, after all.

[corroded-hellfire]

Jitters - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish story

Collaboration with my darling @munson-blurbs

Summary: It's the first day of school for the Munson children--ever for Eliza, but their dad is being the biggest baby of them all.

Note: With all the back-to-school excitement going on I thought, "What would Eddie be like when Eliza first starts school?" So, voila. As always, I am so thankful for all of you who read and have the loveliest things to say 💕

Words: 3.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

If someone were to take bets on which Munson is the most miserable on the first day of school, they might pick Ryan. Sixteen years old, starting his junior year, and seemingly irritated by every move someone makes. 

They might pick fourteen-year-old Luke, the Tasmanian Devil himself, constantly lamenting about how boring his teachers are. 

Or they might pick Eliza, no longer getting to be the big fish in the daycare’s small pond, but now a full-fledged preschooler—one who is not happy about getting up early. 

Any of these would be fine guesses. But they would also be dead wrong. 

“My babies are all grown up!” Eddie bemoans, watching Eliza slide a comically oversized Little Mermaid backpack over her tiny shoulders. He stares at his sons as they shove their feet into their new sneakers, conveniently ignoring the repeated warnings not to break their shoes. 

Ryan catches his dad looking at them and rolls his eyes. “Take a picture; it’ll last longer,” he quips, groaning when Eddie dashes into the bedroom to grab his camera. “Crap, I didn’t mean literally.”

“Swear jar!” Luke chirps, all-too excited to catch his big brother slipping up. 

“‘Crap’ isn’t a swear word, dumbass.”

“Another dollar in the swear jar!” Luke roars, nearly colliding with the wall as he darts away from Ryan before the elder boy can get his hands on him. 

You give the two boys a biting glare from across the room. If you can't keep them from using bad language all the time, they at least need to adhere to the rule when their little sister is in the room. Luckily, Eliza is currently admiring her new black Mary Jane shoes and was paying no mind to what was happening around her. 

Before Ryan and Luke can start bickering again, you herd them over to the side of the living room where the lighting is the best for pictures. 

“Come on, come on,” you say as you practically push them across the space. “Dad’s getting the camera, let’s get this show on the road.” 

Ryan groans and drops his head back in irritation. “Can’t you just take some of Eliza? You have enough of us.”

“We never have enough of you,” you tell him, moving towards him on instinct to press a kiss to the top of his head—only to come face to face with the reminder that he’s taller than you now. “Eliza, come on over here, baby girl.”

Eliza looks up from where she’s now inspecting the pink overall dress she’s wearing. Her two curly little pigtails bounce with every motion. She hikes up her green sparkly princess backpack as she skips towards you. She becomes derailed, however, when Eddie walks back into the room. Eliza diverts her attention and makes a not-quite-a-surprise attack on his legs.

“Rawr! Gotchu Daddy!”

“Oh no!” Eddie feigns, clasping the camera to his chest. “I guess I can’t take you to preschool then, huh? Such a shame.”

“Nice try,” you tell him. “She’s still going.” 

Eddie’s brows furrow together in another one of the little pouts he’s been giving you for the past few days. He thinks his baby girl is growing up too fast—does he think you don’t feel the same way? You just don’t show your emotions as expressively as your husband does. 

“She’s only three,” Eddie says about your daughter. “Shouldn’t we wait until she’s at least four?”

“She’ll be four next month, Eddie,” you remind him. “This is when she’s supposed to start preschool.” 

The sullen father has nothing to say in response to that, so he just looks down at the camera and fiddles with it, making sure there’s enough film and that it’s on the right settings. You take the opportunity to walk over towards Ryan.

“Was he this bad when Luke started school?” you ask in a hushed voice. 

Ryan considers it for a moment before shrugging. “In my childhood mind, no. But I also used to believe it when Dad told me I’d look like Popeye if I ate my spinach, so who knows?”

“I can only imagine how he was with you.” With a small smirk, you grab Ryan’s arms and give him a small shake from side to side. “His first born,” you coo in a sickeningly sweet tone. Ryan shoos you away from him, but you can see the smile on his face that he’s trying his damndest to hide. 

In the meantime, Luke grabs a Kleenex box from the kitchen counter, lowering onto bended knee and presenting it to Eddie. 

“A gift for thou, Sir Sobs-a-Lot,” he says, adopting an exaggerated British accent. 

Eddie thumps him on the back of the head, but takes a tissue regardless. 

“Wayne always said I’d be screwed if my kids were as weird as me,” he muses. 

“Dad,” Luke fake-whines, “don’t say that about Eliza!”

Eliza furrows her little eyebrows and makes a run for her brother, charging towards him like a provoked rhinoceros. 

Luke is quicker, though, and holds her prisoner against his chest with a menacing cackle.  

“Mean brother,” Eliza mumbles, face smushed against him. 

He grins triumphantly. “That’s why you love me so much.” He presses a big smacking kiss to her cheek and lets her go, gasping in feigned offense when she wipes it away and wanders back to Eddie.

“Time for school! Let’s gooooooo, Daddy!” She takes his hand and tugs him towards the door, equal parts eager and exasperated. 

Eddie obliges, but you can tell that this isn’t easy for him. “Why is she so eager to leave?” he asks you under his breath. “Ryan and Luke were practically wrapped around my ankles begging me to let them stay home.”

“I think she’s just excited to meet new friends and learn new things!” you say with a smile, trying to hold back your own tears. “Isn’t that right, Liza Bean?”

Eliza nods vigorously. “Luke says I get Play-Doh!”

“Remember,” Luke crouches down to tell her, “it’s important that you taste the Play-Doh before you use it.”

The comment earns him another thump to the head from Eddie. 

“Please don’t eat Play-Doh,” you beg your daughter. Or listen to anything Luke says, you silently add. 

“Yeah, just stick to your lunch,” Ryan offers, always the voice of reason. 

“Lots of fruits and veggies,” Luke jumps in. “Remember why?”

“SCURVY!” Eliza proudly shouts, beaming from ear to ear. 

Eddie exhales and rubs the bridge of his nose, at a total loss for words. “Can you crazy children just take the pictures so we can go?” he finally manages, patience sufficiently worn thin. 

“Sir, yes, sir!” the boys salute in unison. 

“Yes, sir!” Eliza chimes in, happy to emulate her big brothers. 

You take the camera from Eddie when you see his jaw clench. You’d been afraid of your daughter having a meltdown today, but you obviously should have been worrying about her dad. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding for them to arrange themselves in front of the wall for a picture, “all three of you, first.” 

Begrudgingly on the part of the teenagers, and happily on the part of the little girl exiting toddlerhood, they come together and manage to stand still while you grab a few shots of them.

“Now just Ryan, then Luke, then Liza,” you instruct. Ryan rolls his eyes as his two younger siblings step away from him.

“This is never going to end,” he mumbles. 

Figuring it’s just easier to ignore him, you get your pictures of Ryan before moving on to solo Luke and then Eliza. “Now get in there, Dad,” you tell Eddie, gesturing him over to join the kids.

The moment Eddie is within reaching distance of her, Eliza raises her tiny arms to her father and insists that he holds her in the picture. Eddie, unable to deny her anything as always, complies. 

“Just me and Daddy!” Eliza says.

“Eliza’s will be done,” you say before snapping one of just the pair of them.

“All right, all right,” Luke says, motioning for you to give him the camera. “You get in there, too. We’ve got a monumental day here. Another Munson in the school system.”

As you pose next to your daughter and husband, you see Ryan out of the corner of your eye. He leans in behind you and holds up two fingers as bunny ears behind Eliza’s head. His little sister didn’t see him, but she was going to get a kick out of that once you got the pictures developed. Luke also noticed the photobomber, so he takes another nicer picture. 

“We ready to go now?” Luke asks. “Big day for me too, ya know. Starting high school and all. No one’s all fussy over me and I bet it’s because I don’t have pigtails. Damn.”

Eddie claps Luke on the shoulder as you take the camera from your son. “Didn’t wanna make ya nervous, kid,” Eddie says. “Also, dollar in the swear jar.”

Luke scoffs and presses a hand to his chest. “Have I ever been nervous a day in my life?” 

“Well,” Ryan starts with a smug smile, “that depends if you count the time that you got paired up with Missy Collins for that science project.”

Luke’s face turns pink and his nostrils flare. You’re almost taken aback because you think this is the most flustered you’ve ever seen the usually cool and mischievous boy. Luke goes from standing perfectly still to lunging toward his older brother in milliseconds. 

Ryan just lets out a whooping laugh and dodges him by heading outside. Luke is hot on his tail.

Eliza looks up at you and shakes her head, little brown pigtails swaying with the motion. 

“Boys,” she says, an air of sophistication older than her three years in her tone. 

“Boys,” you agree, offering her your hand. Her little fingers slide into your own and you head out the front door behind the two teenagers. Eddie grabs his keys and follows his family out. 

The keys jingle in your husband’s hand, a nervous tic as he walks over to the car and unlocks it. The three kids pile into the back and Eliza and Luke bicker over buckling her car seat as you slip into the passenger’s side.

“Everyone have everything?” Eddie asks as soon as the arguing stops. “Backpacks? Lunches? Or lunch money?”

A chorus of “yes” comes from the backseat so Eddie starts the car and pulls out of the driveway, instantly wishing he could turn around and take everyone back home.

You, Eddie, and Eliza somehow arrive at the preschool on time, but not before your daughter had thoroughly embarrassed her brothers on the high school drop-off line. She’d begged Eddie to roll down her window so she could yell to them as they joined their friends. 

“Bye, Ryan! Bye, Lukie!” she’d shouted. “I love you!” 

You and Eddie thought it was hilarious. Luke and Ryan? Not so much. 

But now, your husband is a total wreck as Eliza marches full steam ahead towards the school’s doors. Truthfully, you’re almost as bad as he is, but you’re trying to keep it together—for Eliza’s sake and for Eddie’s. 

“You ready, Eliza?” You crouch down and place your hands on her shoulders. 

“Yep!” She nods, baby teeth on full display when she grins excitedly.  

Eddie narrows his eyes in disbelief. “Are you sure?” he asks, making you roll your eyes. 

“Yep!” Eliza repeats; thankfully, she’s oblivious to his inner turmoil. 

“You’re going to have a great time and make lots of new friends,” you tell her. 

“And I’ll be right here, ready to pick you up when it’s over,” Eddie adds as he crouches down next to you.

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes again or elbow Eddie in the ribs.  

Eliza nods her head, little pigtails bouncing with the movement. She hikes her backpack up higher and gives you both another wide smile. 

“Ready to go in?” you ask. 

“Uh huh.”

You take her hand and she leads you into her new classroom, Eddie following along behind you. He’s quite literally dragging his feet, a human version of Eeyore the donkey. 

A teacher, not too much younger than you, comes up to greet you all. “Hi, everyone!” she chirps in a tone that signals over-caffeination. “Welcome to preschool! I’m Miss Riley, your teacher.”

For the first time this morning, Eliza seems hesitant. She looks up at you for approval and you nod your head at her. 

“I’m Eliza Marie Munson,” she announces, and you bite back a laugh at her formality. 

“It’s very nice to meet you, Eliza,” Miss Riley says. “You’ve got both Mommy and Daddy with you here today, huh?”

“Yep! Was just gonna be Daddy but then Mommy said she didn’t think he’d really take me here.” 

You squeeze your lips together as your daughter calls out your husband’s behavior; Eddie closes his eyes, a small smile appearing on his face. Both of you know (partially due to your experiences with Luke and Ryan when they were younger) that anything that went on in your house that Eliza knew about would be fair game to be shared with her whole class. 

“Well, I’m very glad you’re here,” Miss Riley replies, holding a hand out for a high-five that your daughter eagerly returns. “Would you like me to show you where your cubby is?”

“Okay!” Eliza turns around and waves to you and Eddie.  “Bye Mommy! Bye Daddy!”

“No hugs?” Eddie asks, a pout forming on his plush lips.

Eliza rolls her eyes as if this is the most unreasonable request she’s ever heard, but obliges. 

You give her a tight squeeze, pressing a kiss to her temple. “You’re gonna have an amazing day, baby girl,” you remind her. 

“I know, Mommy.”

Eddie’s hug can only be described as bone-crushing, with Eliza letting out a dramatic grunt as he holds her. 

“Eliza Munson, you are the smartest, bravest little girl I know,” he says, voice catching in his throat. “I want you to go out there and kick some a—butt,” he hurriedly amends, but not before earning a glare from you. 

“Most importantly, be nice,” you emphasize, hoping your advice trumps Eddie’s little half-time pep talk. 

“I will!” Eliza happily declares before following Miss Riley over to the cubbies.

Eddie looks back and forth from her to you. “That’s it?” he asks. “That’s all we get?”

“What did you want?” you ask as you slip your hand into your husband’s. “Want her to cry and beg you to take her back home?”

“Well, no.” At your disbelieving eyebrow raise Eddie shrugs and amends his statement. “Not entirely.”

“We got hugs and goodbyes,” you point out. “Ryan barely acknowledged us, and Luke gave you a Wet Willy. I think we should cut our losses.”

“I know,” Eddie says, letting out a defeated sigh.

You gently tug him in the direction of the door to exit. “She’ll be fine,” you reassure him with a whisper. “And she’ll be so excited to tell you all about it later.”

Eddie nods, and just as the two of you are about to walk out the door, something rams into Eddie’s legs. He looks down to see Eliza grinning up at him, little arms wrapped around his knees.  

“What’s up, Sweet Pea?” he asks, suddenly worried that something’s wrong. Was someone mean to her? Did she forget her lunch at home?

She jumps like a little jumping bean until she’s right in front of the two of you. 

“I love you!”

Your heart swells and the pressure of tears is heavy behind your eyes. There’s no way you can look at Eddie because clocking his emotion will absolutely send you over the edge. 

Eddie’s already tearing up though and has a bright smile on his face. “We love you too, Liza Bean,” he tells her. “So much.”

She giggles and you scoop her up in your arms. “We love you more than anything.”

You and Eddie press kisses to her cheeks at the same time, and Eddie blows a raspberry with his, making her giggle. 

Once you set her down, Eliza blows you both a kiss before skipping over to a table where a few kids are drawing, already settling in. 

Eddie wipes at his eyes as the two of you step out of the classroom and into the hall. “That’s what I wanted,” he admits with a tearful chuckle. 

You wrap your arms around one of Eddie’s and lay your head on his shoulder. “You okay?” you ask him.

“No.” He sighs when you press a reassuring kiss against his shoulder. “I’m just trying to keep it together for your sake,” he says.

At his words, you pull away to look at him, eyebrows raised. “This was you holding it together?” you ask. 

“Oh, this could’ve been way worse, babe.”

You chuckle as he slips his hand into yours, knowing that he’s likely telling the truth. 

The two of you take one last look inside the classroom and see Eliza talking and laughing with a little girl and boy at her table. 

“Come on,” you say, patting the back of Eddie’s hand with your free one. 

With a reluctant sigh, Eddie starts to walk with you towards the exit. 

“And I know Miss Riley is younger than me but don’t get any ideas.” You smirk and nudge his shoulder with your own, trying to joke around and cheer him up a bit.

Eddie puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, she’s a teacher. I only go for babysitters.”

The late summer morning is hot as you make the journey back to your car. Still the gentleman as always, Eddie opens your door for you. 

“Man,” he shakes his head as you slip into the passenger’s seat. “I can’t believe my baby is in preschool.” 

He closes your door and walks around to his side, giving you time to open your purse and pull out a small object, hiding it beneath your hands in your lap. He starts the car, though you’re fairly certain your heartbeat is louder than the engine. 

“Well,” you start before clearing your throat. Eddie looks over at you and there’s suddenly a million butterflies not only in your stomach, but throughout your whole body. “She’s not going to be the baby for long…”

You hand Eddie the test, watching as his expression shifts from sadness to confusion to awe as he stares at the two pink lines. 

“You’re pregnant?” The excitement in his voice rivals that of a kid on Christmas morning.

“I’m pregnant,” you confirm, grinning with your own excitement. The emotions that you've been trying to corral all day finally come out, relief and giddiness flowing through you as you tell your husband what you've been dying to amongst all the other chaos of the day.  

Eddie lunges across the center console to wrap you up in his arms, letting the positive test drop into his lap. “Holy shit, princess.”

“I know,” you say with a giggle.

Eddie’s still in shock, grinning from ear to ear and rubs his hands over his face. “We’re gonna have another baby,” he says, just to hear it aloud. 

“And just think,” you say, “you get to do this first day of preschool thing again.”

His nose wrinkles at that prospect. “Maybe I’ll just homeschool this one.”

[suugarbabe]

Respect the Family

| Chapter 1 |

word count: 3.1k

warnings: mentions of drinking

an: Surprise, it came earlier for you all. I told you things would happen fast once i could write comfortably again. this is the first chapter in the sequel to the Protego Series. click the hyperlink if you haven't read that first. While it isn't necessarily a need for you to read Protego first, it may help you better understand some of the characters personalities and how they function as a family. There will be sections in later chapters that call back to portions of protege that may make you confused if you have not read this series. <3

The reflection in the mirror was someone you didn’t recognize. Yet every time you moved, it moved with you. You applied mascara, the reflection did the same. You glossed your lips, so did the woman looking back at you. A pair of hands landed gently on the woman’s shoulders in the mirror and you felt the pressure on your own. “You look great, hun!” Roxy’s chipper tone was an encouraging attempt to calm your nerves. Pouting slightly you made eye contact through the mirror, “Dunno, Rox. I’m super thankful you got me this job but I’m proper nervous.” Roxy gave your shoulders a squeeze, “It’s alright, hun, happens to all of us. I’m having the bartender bring you a little liquid courage to help with all that.” 

You let out a low groan, closing your eyes and using the tips of your forefingers to rub your temples with slight pressure. A clinking of glass on table made you straighten up. A large shot glass filled with clear liquor was sat down in front of you. Looking up you were met with a tall and lean frame of a man. A messy fluff of dirty blonde hair settled and framed his features after he ran his hand through it, “Erm, Rox said you needed this?” His eyes seemed to dance with a mixture of shyness and mischief as his finger pointed toward the shot glass in front of you. You nodded, smiling awkwardly as it felt like your voice was lost in your throat. Taking the glass you threw your head back, clearing the shot in one smooth motion.

The man in front of you let out a low whistle, “That nervous, huh?” You let out a small laugh, adjusting the straps of your outfit in the mirror, “Just a little. First day jitters I guess; we all get them right?” The man smiled back at you, the action reaching his amber eyes. “I’m Lorenzo by the way, erm, Enzo. My friends call me Enzo. You can call me either, w-whatever you like,” his slight stammering made you smile, a real genuine smile and you felt yourself relax slightly. Enzo mirrored your expression, asking for your name in return. You enlighten him, giving him your name before listening to him repeat it to himself like he’s trying to commit it to memory. The way he looks at you, smiles at you, there's something different, you can’t quite put your finger on just what yet. 

A voice calls out behind you, “Bunny, you’re up next! Oh, hey Berk, what’re you doing in here?” Enzo’s cheeks turned a blushing pink, “Erm, hey Blaise. Roxy asked me to bring a drink to -” he turned to face you, “I thought you said your name was-” You cut him off with a raise of your hand, “It’s my stage name, you can call me that if you’d like, or any other nickname variation your pretty little head can think of.” You threw him a wink as you stood up, Blaise stepping aside to let you exit towards the stage. Enzo’s eyes never left your figure your entire walk out, his vision trained on the door you walked through. He didn’t notice Blaise walked towards him, now resting against the vanity you were just sat, “Developing a crush on the new girl already, bruv?” Blaise’s teases caused another dusting to cover Enzo’s freckled cheeks before he cleared his throat, “‘Course not. Roxy just asked-” 

“Roxy just asked,” Blaise mimicked Enzo with a teasing high pitched tone, “Come off it, mate, you might be able to fool Nott with that shite but you’re not fooling me. Have your looks and your fun, but you know that’s all it can be. You know Riddle’s rule.” Enzo rolled his eyes, “Don’t worry, mate, you know I’m not a relationship type of guy. Like you said, I’m just gonna have my fun while I can. You know we haven’t gotten any new faces around here since long before Birdie showed up and she’s like my sister. I’m just enjoying the new fruit.” Blaise clasped a hand on Enzo’s shoulder, “You keep telling yourself that.” 

Enzo shoves Blaise’s hand off his shoulder playfully before straightening his vest, smoothing his hands down his chest as he walks out of the dressing room. He makes a b-line for the bar, responding quickly to Birdie when she asks how he’s doing, “Fine!” his voic betrays him at first, high pitched and cracking before he clears his throat, “Erm, fine, doing just fine.” Birdie’s eyebrows raise slightly, “Three fines and a crack? What’s got your pants in a twist huh?” Enzo rolls his eyes, taking a drink order for the man in front of him and turning his back to Birdie while looking for the right liquor. Birdie, ever the persistent one, isn’t too keen on this reaction, “One of the dancers reject you again or something?”

He scoffs at this, “Oh, please, Angel. You know they never reject me.” The playful smirk on Enzo’s face makes Birdie laugh out loud. He hands the drink to the patron in front of him, seemingly getting distracted by the scene over his shoulder. Up on the main stage was something Enzo should’ve expected but wasn’t prepared for. He knew you were a dancer, but he didn’t know you could dance like that. His eyes were trained on your figure as he watched you spin around the pole, the thickness of your thighs sparkling with whatever lotion you had coated yourself in having him in a trance. 

When you crawled on your knees to the edge of the stage, picking up muggle money being thrown in your direction he felt his jaw tense reflexively. You sat back on your heels, knees spread wide open as you ran your hands up your body to the suggestive lyrics of the song. You pulsed up and down on your knees slightly as you ran your hands through your hair before leaning back fully, the position making your chest push out more and Enzo’s pants tighten. You flipped over to your stomach before pushing back up to your hands and knees, back arching to put your ass on full display for the patrons as you twirled your head in a circle, your hair whipping around wildly. Bills and galleons started hitting the stage like rainfall and Enzo could feel his grip on the neck of the liquor bottle tighten dangerously.

“She’s a cute one, isn’t she?” Birdie's teasing tone brought Enzo’s focus back from his growing delusions, his cheeks heating exponentially. “Who’s cute?” He wipes the top of the bar with a rag, avoiding eye contact and hoping he can avoid accusation. Unsurprisingly he’s wrong for both, “Bunny, obviously. You’re  basically fucking her with your staring, Enzie.” He shakes his head a little more adamantly, a mistake leaving his mouth without him realizing, “That’s not her real name you know.” He stops mid-motion, eyes closing as a low curse leaves his lips in a whisper. 

The grin that encompassed Birdie’s face made Enzo’s stomach twist nervously, “Oh! So she introduced herself real name first, huh? She must have looked into those pretty eyes of yours.” She pinched his cheek playfully before being swatted off. “Did you give her a handsome smile, bub? Shoot her a signature wink like you do?” Birdie grinned as she bit into an orange slice from the bar. Enzo huffed in annoyance, “You know, Angel, you’re acting like a fucking tosser. Been hanging out with Nott more lately?” Birdie doubled down, her grin growing knowingly at her friend, “You fucking choked up didn’t you…does this girl make you nervous Enzo?” 

Enzo rolled his eyes, taking one last peek at you on the stage, “You know I don’t get nervous, Angel,” he patted his vest pocket, checking for his cigarettes, “I’m going for a smoke, I’ll be back in 15.” Birdie made an ‘okay’ symbol with her fingers, giving him a wink before turning back to her tasks. Enzo took long strides through the club to get to the back door, pushing it open with more force than probably necessary. The outside air was cool on his skin, a relief to the warmth he seemed to be overwhelmed with since meeting you earlier tonight. A chill overcame his body, the hairs on his arm standing up; he nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the slam of the back door, “Fucking Salazar, mate you sca-“, he cut him self off when he realized who had come through the door. He expected Blaise or Theo to have followed him out, but he was blessed with a surprise instead.

You sauntered over, still in your stage outfit, the slightest of quirks on the edge of your lips, “Awh, are we mates now, Lorenzo? That’s so sweet of you. Can I bum one?” You nodded toward the pack of cigarettes in his hand. He held them up wordlessly, his own loose on his lips while his eyes followed your every move. You took one from the pack, your glossed lips wrapping around the butt in such an average way yet to Enzo it was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. With a snap the tip of your finger was on fire. Lighting your cigarette the flame disappeared and you took a deep inhale. 

“The crowd always so eager?” You sat into your hip, voice causing Enzo to repeatedly blink himself out of his daze. “Erm, m’sorry, what?” A soft laugh left through your nose as you took another inhale, smoke billowing from your pillowy lips as you spoke again, “Is the crowd always so eager with all the dancers?” Enzo took a long drag before answering, “Do you want me to be honest or do you want me to boost your ego?” A sly smile toyed on your lips, “Can you do both?” Enzo hummed to himself, trying to hide his growing smile. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, but something about you made it feel like his insides were on fire. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to impress you, intimidate you, or push you up against the brick wall and take you right in the back alley. 

Enzo flicked his cigarette, ash tumbling off the end, “Most of the men who come here are pretty mindless, always throwing their money carelessly at any dancer on stage with the delusion that maybe they’ll get to take one of you home. You are one of the more beautiful dancers we have though, I'll give you that much.” You snorted at this, Enzo smiled, “They probably seemed so eager because you’re the new girl. You know, fresh meat to their eyes; the new shiny toy.” You raised your eyebrows at this, nodding as you took your last drag before tossing your cigarette on the ground and crushing it beneath your pump, “So you and them aren’t much different then, huh Lorenzo?” Head tilting to the side, Enzo’s eyes squinted slightly, “Dunno what you mean by that, love, care to enlighten me?” 

Maybe it was the responses you were getting on stage that made your confidence flip from earlier in the night. Or maybe it was the three additional shots you had downed with the other dancers backstage as your ‘completed first dance tradition’. Either way you were feeling braver, feeling like you were more in charge of yourself, feeling more like your actual self. “Aren’t I just the new shiny toy to you too?” You took a step closer to Enzo and he took a step back towards the wall as a response. “I don’t mess around with the dancers, Bunny,” Enzo took his last drag as a cover for any facial expression that might give him away. You, however, weren’t buying it. 

“That’s not what I heard,” you step closer once more, making Enzo’s back hit the wall and a grunt leave his lips. “I heard Berkshire has a list of dancers he’s shagged, and I was just wondering,” you toyed with one of the buttons on his vest, “am I gonna be added to that list?” You had to tilt your neck slightly to meet his eyes now, but that was exactly your plan. Peering up at him you batted your lashes, the teenset of pouts on your lips. Enzo was thanking every high wizard, Merlin, Salazar, hell even fucking Godric Gryffindor for the strength of his restraint in this moment. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was toying with his vest, the action so quick it startled you that it even happened. “Oh, Bunny girl, you will never be on that list,” he leaned down now, lips ghosting at the shell of your ear, “but if you really want me that badly, I’d never say no to a pretty girl throwing herself at me so desperately.” 

You took a step back from him, trying, and failing, to jerk your wrist away from his grasp, “I’m not acting desperate.” You were insulted at the insinuation. But it seemed like Enzo wasn’t listening as his brows furrowed looking just past your shoulder and then he rolled his eyes, “I have to go, we can do this again your next shift, yeah?” He released you then but the heat from his palm still radiated on your skin as you watched him walk back into the club. 

Enzo shook his head a few times, trying to clear his mind of all the horrible and raunchy thoughts that were consuming him about you as he tried to ignore Draco’s voice in his head again, We’re waiting on you, Berk, get your ass in here, NOW. Enzo huffed out an annoyed sigh as he opened the door to Mattheo’s office, all eyes turning to him as he entered. Enzo wore a saccharine grin as he touched his cheek, “What? Got something on my face?” Mattheo wore a less than pleased look as he leaned against the front of his desk, arms crossed over his chest yet still not a wrinkle on his black designer suit. Birdie sat perched on the desk next to him, a smirk on her face as Mattheo spoke. “What the hell took you so long, Berkshire.” 

Theo raised his hand as if they were back in school, “I know, call on me, Matty!” Mattheo gave a half-assed wave of his hand, but it was all the permission Theo needed to be his idiot self before he opened his mouth again, “Berk was in the alley with Buuunnnyy.” Theo said the end in a sing-song voice before settling into a quiet giggle as Enzo glared at him, ignoring the glare he was receiving himself from Mattheo. Enzo opened his mouth to respond but was cut off quickly by Mattheo's harsh tone, “Cut it off, Berkshire. And do it now. We don’t have time for you to go gallivanting around with your cock out for the new dancer, not with what we have coming up right now.” 

Enzo clicked his tongue in response, “Okay, first off, I don’t go gallivanting my cock around or whatever the fuck you just said. Secondly, I just turned her down in the alley, thank you very much.” Birdie and Blaise both raised their eyebrows before exchanging a look that Enzo did not want to delve into right now. Mattheo pinched the bridge of his nose, growling out in slight frustration, “Whatever the fuck it is, stay clear of it. We’ve got more important things to worry about and I need your head on straight, Enzo. You can’t be weakened by some stripper when we’re dealing with the Corvo family.” 

Pansy gasped in disbelief, “The Corvo family, are you serious Mattheo?” He braced himself with a hand on his desk, the other grabbing hold of Birdie’s thigh, “Yes, I’m serious, Pans. I know everyone thought they were dormant, but at the last meeting there were rumors.” Draco crossed his arms, “What kind of rumors?” 

“Like the kind of rumors that could start a war, Cousin,” Mattheo took a slow glance around the room, making sure everyone took in what he was saying, how serious this information really was. “We have four shipments to get out in the next four weeks; there cannot be any mistakes, do we all have an understanding?” A unified ‘yes, boss’ rang out in the room. “The Corvo’s cannot interrupt this arrangement. The trades we’re doing are creating allyships that are heavily important to our family. No one outside of this room is to be involved. I understand some of the dancers have a suspicion of what we do beyond the club, but as far as anyone else is concerned, it’s all rumors. Outside of the mansion and outside of this room the business is not to be spoken to with anyone. Inside this club, the club is all we speak of, that’s the only business we have and that’s the only thing anyone is concerned about. 

“With this mess of rumors concerning the Corvo’s we cannot and will not have any information leaked in any capacity. While we love our Birdie,” Mattheo turned and kissed his girl on the cheek, “we fucking hate rats.” Enzo and Theo made eye contact across the room, both simulating a fake gag at the scene. However, Enzo perked up at the end of Mattheo’s speech, “You know, personally I love a rat, they’re one of my favorites to kill.” Enzo wiggled his eyebrows while cracking his knuckles. Pansy rolled her eyes, “Okay, killer, calm down. If we need you we’ll call for you.” Enzo blew her a kiss. Pansy pretended to catch it mid air before turning her hand and displaying her middle finger. 

Mattheo groaned in annoyance, “Alright, if we all understand then there shouldn’t be any problems. You all can go.” Except you Enzo, you stay, Mattheo’s voice rang in Enzo’s head. The other’s all left the room as Enzo took a seat in front of Mattheo’s desk. With the click of the door locking again, Mattheo’s full attention was on Enzo. “Are you sure I don’t have anything to worry about with Bunny? I know I didn’t hire an ugly dancer, I never do and I know how much you enjoy that.” Enzo pulled at his bottom lip, head nodding, “I know, I know, but I swear, Matt. I’m good. I was serious earlier, girl came on to me hard, asked to be my shiny new play toy and everything, I told her it would never happen. You have nothing to worry about. I’m fully focused on the family business.” Mattheo raised his eyebrows, as if to ask one more time if Enzo was sure. 

Enzo held his hands up, sincere smile on, “I promise, Mattheo. Bunny means nothing to me.” 

[thegnomelord]

Seeing people be nerds in your inbox is so fun because I too!! A nerd who loves marine biology as a whole, used to bring an encyclopedia to school everyday in my early days.

But something else I really like are dragons and tbh it's got me thinking

What about a reader who's just a huge fucking nerd, like he joins TF 141 as a new recruit and the first time he sets his eyes on Price he's low-key jittering because!! Whaoh dragon!! Irl!!!! So cool!!!

"wh-whoah dragon"

".. yeah, got a problem lad?"

*rips off sleeve, revealing a dragon tattoo and furiously pointing at it* "I love.. dragon"

Like homie's too excited to realize how fucking weird it is to just, when you meet your new superior you just show him that you have a tattoo of his species.

Imagine asking him dragon related questions to see if the mythology books he collected when he was little said how dragons r was true.

So sorry this was like too silly or comedic or like unserious 😔😔 I just think dragons r cool

-🐙

Okay this is so cute because that would 1000000% be me like I was the biggest dragon nerd and still am.

But like:

Price doesn't know what your problem is. From the way you constantly look at him he ends up thinking you're some kind of fetishist or just see him an animal in the zoo, meant to be stared and pointed at.

He doesn't like the way he can feel your eyes watching his every move, every little twitch of his wing or move of his muscles would have his brain tingling with the sensation of your eyes on him. It was unnerving, and with all the shite on his plate Price didn't need to have you ogling him.

He isn't the least bit pleased when he calls you to his office, the butt of his cigar burning an angry red as he puffs out a cloud of smoke. "What's going on with you lad?"

It's not a question. It's a demand, vibrant blue eyes staring you down.

"I just... really like dragons." You admit, feeling like a teen that got caught with a playboy mag by your parents.

"Uh, huh." He grunts, leans against his desk. "Care to elaborate about your little obsession."

You can feel heat burn at your cheeks at his words, embarrassment gnawing on your gut. "It's nothing like that cap! I just, dragons are cool alright? And I just-" You attempt to explain to him how you just really like dragons, from when you were a little boy you loved learning all you could.

And Price listens to you, continuing to smoke his cigar while you ramble on and on, and he can't hide the fact that a small part of him is a little bit intrigued by the sheer passion in your voice.

"That so?" Price finally cuts off your rambling, a low rumble rolling in his throat, his inner dragon preening at the way you look at him, pupils dilated, heat obvious on your scent.

His wing spreads out a bit, making him look bigger, the bulge in his pants obvious. "Then how about I give you a hands on education?"

[tightjeansjavi]

𝕓𝕝𝕦𝕖 𝕛𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕤 𝕟’𝕋𝕖𝕩𝕒𝕤 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞𝕤

𝕡𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝟟

First Date Jitters & Cowboy Margaritas

♡ 𓃗 ♡

Pre! Outbreak Joel x horseback riding instructor f!reader

~word count: 4.5k~

Summary: Joel Miller, single father; total soft dad has an astronomically enormous crush on you, his daughters horseback riding instructor.

Warnings: soft! Joel, shy! Joel, horny!awkward!Joel, fluff, flirting, slow burn, feeling flustered, sexual tension, brief horny thoughts, bantering, teasing, no use of (y/n), (+18) minors dni !

blue jeans playlist:

Austin, Texas

Joel Miller called you every morning the following week leading up to your anticipated first date. You both were giddy with nervous excitement. He wanted this date to be perfect in every sense. Sure, he could take the typical route and wine and dine you but where was the fun in that? It was clear that neither of you were the conventional type and that was one of the many reasons why he was attracted to you. Despite your hectic schedule between taking care of the horses, teaching lessons, and bartending in between, Joel wanted to make sure that you had an enjoyable evening with him. By Thursday, he was a flustered mess. He had his doubts that maybe you would call and cancel on him. Maybe it was too soon for you, or on the off chance, he would end up being so nervous that he would end up chickening out on you entirely.

“You’re um–you’re still excited for Friday, right darlin’?” He held his phone against his ear, tapping his fingers across the steering wheel. He had just pulled into the parking lot of the jobsite he and Tommy would be working at for the next few days.

“Joel, I literally have not been able to stop thinking about our upcoming date all damn week. You know I almost ate shit yesterday cause I was too busy thinking about you? You’re gonna have to start paying rent if you wanna live in my mind like that mister.” You held your phone against your chin and shoulder as you were filling up Whiskey’s water bucket, leaning against his stall door while he happily ate his morning grain.

Joel felt the heat rise to his cheeks when you admitted that you had been thinking about him, and the date, just as much as he had been. “Well, I'm really sorry that my devilishly handsome mug almost caused you to eat shit darlin.’ I just..i’m nervous if i’m bein’ honest, and I know that ain’t what you want to be hearin’ from a man right now. Y’know I just have been off my game for so long and I just don’t wanna screw this up.”

You reached over and gave whiskey a light pat on his neck, threading your fingers through his silky soft cream colored mane. “Easy there now cowboy, I said you were handsome, not devilishly handsome.” You giggled. “Joel, its okay that you’re nervous. In fact, if you weren’t a little bit nervous i’d actually be pretty concerned. You’re doing just fine, okay? I appreciate your honesty. Not many men would be admitting to their first date jitters. You’re cute, Joel and I highly doubt there’s any way for you to screw this up.”

Joel softly chuckled as he rested his head back against his worn headrest in his truck. “I know darlin’ I was just teasin’ ya. Thank you for validatin’ my feelings. You’re a real peach, you know that? Also, I 100% will be thinking about you all damn day now just ‘cus you said i’m handsome AND cute. You see what you’re doin’ to me darlin’? Turnin’ my fuckin’ brain to actual mush.”

“Peach is actually my middle name, believe it or not. Good! Your brain should be turning to mush because you’re living in mine rent fucking free man.” You giggled.

“Wait, is it really? Darlin’..are you messin’ with me right now?”

“Oh, I absolutely am. I gotcha there huh?”

“I was believin’ you for a good second there hun. Listen, you know i’d love nothin’ more than to chat with ya all mornin’ but I gotta run unfortunately. Tommy and I got this big project to start on. I hope you have a wonderful day and say hi to the boys for me, okay?”

“No worries. I gotta get some shit done around here before my 9 o'clock lesson gets here. I hope you have a wonderful day as well Joel. I’ll tell the boys you say hello.”

“Talk to ya later darlin.’”

“See ya around, cowboy.”

Joel ended the call as he let out a soft, content sigh. He grabbed his tool box from the passenger seat as he hopped out of his truck. He tucked his phone into his tool belt around his waist before he clapped his younger brother on the shoulder.

“Wow. You’re early for once Joel.” Tommy said with a grin as he tightened the laces on his boots. “So, you all ready for your big date tomorrow? You’re not gonna be an ass and chicken out on this girl, right?”

Joel was tightening his tool belt around his waist so it fit more snuggly. “Oh, I'm excited alright. Nervous as all hell at the same time. I really don’t wanna mess this up. I uh–I actually just got off the phone with her. We talk every mornin’ and it's become apart of both of our routines.”

Tommy let out a playful gag as he straightened his back after tightening his boots. “Oh Christ. You really have just completely gone and turned into a fuckin’ sap. Never actually thought I'd live to see this day.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah. You just wait till you get to meet her. You’ll see exactly what I'm talkin’ about then. Can you still come over tomorrow and watch Sarah?”

“Ohhh. So, you’re already thinkin’ about bringing her around? You’re down so bad big brother. Course I can watch Sarah. Love that kiddo man. Besides, she fills me in on all the important stuff.” He winked.

“Well..uh–I hope that I will eventually be bringin’ her around. You and Sarah are like two peas in a pod I swear.”

“I cannot fuckin’ wait to meet the bird that has taken my poor big brother’s heart! Sarah’s my favorite niece. What can I say?”

“She’s your only niece Tommy.” Joel corrected him.

“Shuddup. You knew what I meant.”

Thursday had flown by for both you and Joel and Friday evening had rolled around faster than either of you had expected. It was 5pm and Joel was puttering around his house, making sure he had everything ready. Joel was taking you to a local drive-in movie and he had gone as far to set up his truck bed with pillows and blankets. He wanted you to be comfortable. That was 100% his main concern was your comfort above all. He had even gone and picked up a bunch of snacks and placed them all in a cooler with a couple beers and water.

Just as he was placing the cooler in the bed of his truck, Tommy had pulled in the front of the house and hopped out of his own truck. He had the board game tucked under his armpit for him and Sarah to play. “What in god’s green fuckin’ earth have ya gone and done to your truck Joel?”

“Huh? What’re you–Oh. The pillows and shit? Well, I'm takin’ her to the local drive-in. Do you think it's too much?I just wanna make sure she’s comfortable..”

“Oh my god, of course you’re takin’ her to the drive-in! You sly sly dog.” He chuckled. “Joel, I'm sure she’s gonna love it, and especially since you’ve put a ton of effort into this whole thing.”

“Hey! It ain’t like that Tommy. I was gonna take her to that one taco place in town..pick some food up and then we’re gonna go to the drive-in.”

“Brother, I'm just messin’ with ya! Relax. You are gonna kiss her at the end of the night right? She’s probably gonna expect you to.”

Joel rubbed the back of his neck nervously. He most definitely had not thought that far ahead yet. Was Tommy right? Were you going to expect him to kiss you by the end of the date? Was that something that you’d even want? “Oh..well I honestly haven’t thought that far ahead. Shouldn’t I be takin’ it slow?”

“My word of advice to ya is just to just see what signs she’s givin’ ya. I ain’t sayin’ y’all have to kiss or anythin’, but just to keep that in the back of your mind is all i’m sayin.’”

Joel let out a huff as he hopped down from the bed of his truck and closed the latch over the top as he dusted his pants off. “Okay, I'll keep that in mind.”

Tommy brought his arm around his shoulder, giving his brother a side hug. “Good man. Now, what’re you wearin’?”

“Fuck if I know.”

“Sarah and I will help ya find somethin.’”

After turning the horses out for the evening, you locked the barn up before heading to your apartment to quickly get ready. Your first date jitters were coming in full force as you quickly showered. You just wanted to know where your Texas tall glass of water was taking you for the evening. The possibilities with Joel were clearly endless. You had not felt this excited about a guy since the situation with your ex.

By 6pm, you were scrambling to finish getting ready. Your room, and bathroom were a complete disaster as you struggled putting an outfit together. You didn’t want to look sloppy and you also didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard. Ugh. Why was being a girl so difficult sometimes? Was Joel facing the same struggles as you were right now?

At 6:15 you finally decided on going with some simple light washed jeans, a cute top and a flannel, in case it got chilly. You paired it with a nicer pair of sneakers that didn’t have scuff marks all over them. Overall, you felt pretty confident in your outfit choice. You were torn between doing a full makeup look in the beginning but with the time crunch, you only had time to swipe a bit of mascara over your lashes and lip gloss on your lips.

Your phone rang loudly from the kitchen where it was charging. You raced to grab it, flipping it open as you brought it up to your ear.

“Hey darlin.’ I’m about to head on over. Are you ready or do ya need more time? There’s no rush or anythin–”

“Hey Joel. Yeah, I'm ready. See you soon?” You lightly chewed on the tip of your thumbnail. The butterflies were absolutely swarming in your stomach.

“Perfect. See ya soon darlin.’”

The call ended and you spent the next 10 minutes furiously looking over your appearance in the mirror. You checked to make sure you had nothing stuck between your teeth and even gave your armpits the sniff test just to make sure. As soon as you heard a knock on the front door of your apartment, the butterflies erupted again as you grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder. With a deep breath you unlatched the lock and opened it.

On the other side of your apartment door was your Texas tall glass of water. He had a bundle of fresh wildflowers grasped between his hands. You could tell he had picked them himself just by the fact that there was some brown twine holding them together. You both stared at each other for a long moment as you seemingly were taken in one another’s appearance.

“Wow.” He breathed out, letting his shoulders relax. “You look beautiful.”

“You clean up pretty well yourself cowboy.” You said with a small grin. Joel must have been in a nervous rush just like you because his T-shirt was very clearly on backwards. “Uh, Joel? I think your shirt is on backwards.”

Joel’s cheeks immediately felt hot as the realization dawned upon him. “Aw shit. Y’know I would have thought that my brother would have told me this before I left the house.” He grumbled quietly. “Oh! These are for you..I uh– picked them earlier while I was on the job-site. They kinda just..reminded me of you..I hope you like them.” He handed you the homemade bouquet of wildflowers and much to your surprise, he wasted no time to pull his t-shirt over his head. As soon as you caught a glimpse of his broad, tan chest, you inhaled a shaky breath. The exposure of skin was quickly covered with the shirt on the right way now.

“They’re beautiful. Thank you for thinking of me Joel. That was awfully sweet of you. Let me just put them in a vase real quick and then we can be on our way?”

“I would have gone to the store and gotten you roses or somethin’ but that didn’t seem like your style.” He leaned against the doorjamb as you headed into your cute little cozy kitchen. He watched as you grabbed a vase from a cabinet and filled it up with a bit of water before placing the bouquet inside. You joined him outside the door, locking it behind you before his hand was at your lower back, leading you down the stairs to his truck.

Chivalry was alive and well thanks to Joel Miller. He held the passenger side door open for you, and even gave you a little boost into the seat. Once you were buckled in, and he was situated in the driver's seat, he had placed his hand on the back of your seat as he leaned over the center console and checked over his shoulder as he backed out of the parking spot.

Why was that alone so fucking hot? He smelled amazing too. He was wearing an intoxicating delicious cologne and you would absolutely love to just bury your face into his neck–

“Did ya hear me darlin’?”

“What? No..I’m sorry I didn’t. I zoned out there for a second.”

“S’alright hun. I asked if you were a fan of tacos? There’s this place not far from here that has some good ones. Also, the best takeaway margaritas that Austin Texas has to offer.”

“You had me at tacos and margaritas.” You looked over at him from the passenger seat.

“Awesome. I had a feelin’ you’d be into it but just wanted to make sure, y’know?” He cleared his throat slightly as he had one hand on the steering wheel and the other was resting along the center console. “I meant what I said earlier. You look beautiful.”

“Oh, yeah. I love tacos. Literally my favorite food of all time.” You glanced down at his hand briefly as it rested along the center console. Before your brain could stop you, you boldly grabbed his hand and interlaced your fingers together. His palm beneath yours was warm, slightly clammy from the nerves, and you could tell he used his hands a lot just from the texture of calluses on his skin. These were the hands of a true, rugged man. Woof.

Joel felt his breath hitch in his throat the second his fingers were wrapped around yours. Man, you were ballsy tonight. “Well, you’re in for a real treat tonight darlin.’” He gave your hand a soft squeeze, glancing over at you momentarily. He quite liked the way your hand felt around his.

The casual small talk floated between the two of you in the confines of his truck. The radio was softly playing in the background as you told Joel about your day, and how Dieter tried to escape from his stall yet again. Joel was attentively listening to you as he kept his eyes focused on the road. He laughed as you told the story of Dieter, the mischievous Norwegian Fjord, almost escaped again. He truthfully could listen to you talk for hours. You were so animated with your words and it was so hard for him to not be drawn in. As cheesy as it sounds, he felt like he was a moth to flame when it came to you.

You were holding hands the entire drive to the taco place. It was a drive through luckily and he went ahead and placed an order for steak tacos for himself, and veggie for you. Along with chips and guac and two cowboy margaritas. He only slipped his hand out of your grip to pay, and grabbed the bag of food and the two styrofoam cups that contained the margaritas. Once everything was situated, he was reaching for your hand once more.

“What the hell is Cowboy Margarita?” You asked as you took a small sip from the straw.

Joel looked over at you with mocked disappointment written across his face. “Oh my dear, only the best fuckin’ margarita you can get your pretty lil hands on.”

“Oh wow. This is fucking delicious! Holy shit. Where have these been all my life?”

Where have you been all my life? He thought to himself.

“Told ya. Best margarita Austin Texas has to offer.”

You took another sip as you made yourself comfortable in the passenger seat. “So, where are you actually taking me cowboy?”

“Well, darlin.’ That would go and ruin the surprise and I ain’t about to do that.”

“Damn. You can’t even give me a little hint?”

“Afraid not hun.”

“Bastard.” you muttered under your breath with a light giggle.

Joel let out a chuckle as he drove a few miles down the road. It was a beautiful evening. There was a cool breeze that drifted in through the open windows of Joel’s truck. The breeze kissed your cheeks tenderly. He had pulled off into a field, where there were about 30 other cars parked in front of a projector screen. Joel felt his heart flutter out of his chest when you looked at him with the biggest grin. “No fucking way. You brought me to a drive-in? I’ve always wanted to go to one!”

He parked a few spots down from another truck with the bed of his truck facing the screen before he cut the ignition. “Course I did. I had a feeling that you’d really enjoy somethin’ like this. That ain’t even the best part. C’mon.” He hopped out of the driver's seat and you followed after him.

To your surprise, Joel had decked out the entire bed of his truck with pillows and blankets. You could tell he thoroughly thought this entire thing through and paid attention to all the little details. “You are unbelievable, you know that?”

“I know. I just wanted to make sure you were nice and comfy s’all.” He grabbed the two margaritas, and the bag of food and set it alongside the bed of the truck before he came alongside you, gently grabbing your waist as he hoisted you up.

His warm touch along your skin was enough to have your head spinning as you watched him effortlessly pull himself into the bed of the truck. “Take a picture darlin.’ it’ll last longer.” He shot you a wink as he grabbed the bag of food and handed you your drink before he scooted himself back against the pillows and patted the spot next to him.

You wasted no time scooting yourself over to him as he handed you your wrapped tacos with a few napkins. “What movie is on tonight?”

“The Parent Trap. You’ve seen it before?”

“Only about a hundred times. Easily one of the best Disney movies out there.”

“It’s one of Sarah’s favorites as well. I was hopin’ they were gonna show a horse film or somethin’ but this was the next best option.”

Once the movie started, you and Joel were comfortably eating your food. Your shoulders were brushing against one another along with your knees. You both were aware of the close proximity and yet, the butterflies had stilled in your stomach. The nerves had dissipated finally. Joel was a complete gentleman as he gathered up your trash and placed it in the bag and off to the side.

“Would it be alright if I–”

“Yes.” You didn’t even let him finish asking the question. You knew exactly what it was that he was about to ask.

“Damn, woman. Don’t go and gettin’ too excited now darlin.’ I’m just puttin’ my arm around ya is all.” He chuckled.

“Shh. This is one of my favorite parts.” You whispered.

Joel fought the urge to playfully roll his eyes at your remark before he brought his arm around you, gently pulling you into his chest while he stretched his legs out. What he wasn’t expecting you to do was ever so casually hike your thigh up over his waist as you made yourself comfortable. “Is this okay?” You whispered.

“Yeah. I’m good darlin.’ You comfy?”

“Absolutely cowboy.”

No funny business took place during the entirety of the film. Joel could hardly focus on the screen because of the searing heat he felt from your warm thigh stretched out over him. You were entirely clouding his senses. You were an absolute doll on helping him clean up and throw out the trash from your food.

The drive back to your apartment was filled with “Long Long Time” by Linda Ronstadt. The windows were down all the way and you and Joel were belting the lyrics together. He couldn’t sing to save his life but did he care? Absolutely not. He was just more than happy to be involved. This was by far the most fun he had ever had on a date. No, he wasn’t just saying that to sweeten you up. He meant it. He felt like he was a teenager all over again. (not that 34 is old in the slightest). You were just the breath of fresh air that he couldn’t get enough of.

He walked you up to your apartment door of course. The poor man couldn’t pick up on your signals as you leaned back against your closed door facing him. You wanted this man to kiss you so fucking bad and he had no clue. “I had a really great time tonight Joel. I don’t know why you were so nervous in the first place, cause you seriously knocked this one out of the park and I mean that sincerely.”

Do I kiss her? Tommy said I should keep that in mind but what if–

“I’m beyond happy to hear that darlin.’ This was the most fun I've ever had on a date. I’m serious about that too. I really had a great time with you. Is it safe to say that a second date is in our future?”

“Second, Third, Fourth. Indefinitely. You know how to treat a lady right, that’s for damn sure.” You were looking up at him expectantly. You were waiting for the moment that he would lean down and finally kiss you. Oh please, just fucking grab my waist and kiss me. Please. Please. Please. I have been wanting to kiss you all goddamn night Joel.

Joel was a complete deer in headlights. It was as if his mind had completely frozen over and he forgot how to function. “I’ll uh–see you soon darlin’?” He leaned down and finally—kissed you on the cheek.

Motherfucker.

Joel was already turning on his heel and down the metal steps when you had called out to him.

“Hey, cowboy? Will you fucking kiss me already?”

Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

Joel had never moved so fast in his life. He nearly gave himself whiplash with how fast he had turned on his heel. His footsteps were moving faster than his brain process as he returned to you. Before you could get another word in, he grasped your face in his warm palms and finally kissed you. You could tell he was hesitant, and a little rusty, but you happily were there to guide him along as you let your arms drape around his neck. You finally got to feel just how soft this man’s hair was as you threaded your fingers through the back of his head. The tendrils of curls were silky soft. You felt your back press firmly against your apartment door as his lips moved against yours. His hands had dropped from your face and found purchase around your waist. “Is this–is this okay?” He mumbled into your lips.

“Yes, Joel. You’re fine. I promise.” You gripped his hair a little tighter as he breathed hot air into your mouth. You could taste a hint of tequila on his tongue as you breathed in his cologne. As soon as his tongue swiped across your lower lip, your lips parted open for him as he explored your mouth. His kisses grew desperate as the familiar feelings flooded back to him. Joel’s kisses tasted warm, sweet, and they were absolutely addicting. He melted on your tongue like fucking putty.

You let your free hand drop down to the door, you were already moving to push it open when he had stopped you. Your wrist was pinned up against the side of the door. Encaged in his warm grip. “No. Not tonight darlin.’” He rasped. “I want to. You’ve got no fuckin’ clue how badly I want to but you’re worth more than that. I wanna properly date you. I don’t want it to just be a one time thing. You deserve so much fuckin’ better than that.” His lips had detached from yours as his forehead gently rested against yours. His breathing was staggered and his heart was racing out of his chest, clamoring against his ribcage.

Your lips were swollen with his kisses as your lashes slowly fluttered open. The only visible light was from the shitty one above your apartment door. Your breath hitched in your throat when his freehand, that wasn’t engaging your wrist, came up to your face. His thumb brushed across your plush lower lip, tugging it down slightly. “Joel..”

“I know, sweet girl. I know. I promise that it will happen. I’ll take care of you. Every fuckin’ inch of you, okay? I’ll fuckin’ worship you darlin.’”

“Joel.” You whispered through the thick tension between the two of you. “Please kiss me.”

The gap was closed once more. This kiss was less desperate than the last. This was a sweeter kiss. A kiss enveloped in promise that was etched upon your lips. A promise that you meant more to him than just a quick fuck. A promise that he didn’t want this to be a one time thing. Joel wanted to date you. He wanted to properly date you so fucking bad.

A few more tender kisses were shared before he reluctantly pulled away. He hugged you to his chest firmly, lifting you off your feet momentarily as you brought your arms around his broad shoulders. “I’ll call you when I get home, okay? Get some sleep sugar.”

“You too Joel.” You felt his arms slowly loosen around you as he set you back down onto the ground. His lips brushed against your forehead in a soft kiss before you could no longer feel his warmth and when your eyes opened, he was already heading down the stairs.

You let out a deep sigh as you pushed open the door of your apartment and locked it behind you. You broke out into little lovesick giggles as you sank down against the closed door. You replayed the entire date out in your mind. Your Texas tall glass of water was something else entirely.

As soon as Joel arrived at home, he called you. You were waiting for him of course. Despite the fact that your eyes were struggling to stay open, you both wished each other sweet dreams once more.

tag list: @chaotic-mystery @peterhollandkait @soft-cryptids @dinsdjrn @bearsbeetsbeskar @beskarandblasters @lovers-liability @777-wonders @mirasantidotes @pedgeitopascal @atinylittlepain @dreamingofdaddydin @cutesyscreenname @loquaciousferret @korynnekorynne @kirsteng42 @bonglorddaryl @novemberrain-writes @sarahhxx03 @myrealmofchaos @finnsbubblegum @danilakozlovsky @pedrit0-pascalit0 @ssa-raye @pedropascalfan221 @missgurrl @leeeesahhh @yazsos @sunakochansama43 @casa-boiardi @last-girl @frankthesexualsadist @shatteredbaby @rye-flower @elliewilliamsno1simp @wonder-harley

[softshuji]

4:06PM | HAITANI RAN  

Summary: Maybe you and Ran are just two broken things, and maybe enough is enough. Likes and reblogs appreciated! Link to my masterlist here!

cw: afab!reader, use of petnames (Princess, baby), implied infidelity (nothing happens), angst with comfort, both Ran and reader cry, mentions of marriage and divorce.

Ran has known for some time but he’s been ready for this conversation for none of it. It should come as a surprise when you sit him down in the garden, grass blowing gently, faint scent of fresh flowers tickling your nose, but it doesn’t. 

He sits on the bench in your garden and looks up at you expectantly, as if his heart isn’t crashing and racing in his chest. Every second that prolongs this conversation only serves to make him feel more nauseous, more anxious and he can’t seem to stop the jittering, the bouncing of his knee on the slabbed floor. There are weeds growing between the cracks, little dandelions and shrubs, moss that peeks out between the brown soil, and he watches you absent-mindedly stamp on a patch of moss that pops up between two broken slabs.

‘Ran,’ you say, your skirt swishing in the breeze as you move to sit next to him. 

‘Y/n,’ he replies in tandem, and looks at your pinched brow, the corners of your mouth turned down and the visceral urge to kiss your lips, your forehead, is so great that he looks away. He chooses to focus his attention on the cigarette he’s pulling out from a silver tin, engraved with a neat italicised ‘RH’ in the corner. An anniversary present from you many years ago, now worn and lined with scratches and dents and he’s so sentimental that he can’t bring himself to replace it. 

Maybe he just loves you too much.

You take his hands in your own. They’re rough, callused, just as worn as his cigarette tin. The same hands that he touches you with, cooks with, kills with. Every line holds a memory of the two of you. You’re fidgeting just like he is, biting your lip anxiously, tapping your foot on the broken slab.

At first you don’t speak, neither of you do. You just stare at each other, at the faces you’ve woken up next to for the last four years and your hearts are both breaking at the same time. If you were to put your head to his chest, you would hear the crack as his heart splinters, the erratic beating of it as it descends into the pit of his stomach.

‘It’s okay…’ he smiles, a watery and thin smile and traces his thumb along your knuckles. His touch is soft as a feather.

‘S’not okay,’ you say and all it takes is the sensation of his hand on your back, comforting as it always is, for your resolve to slip and the tears to gather in the corners of your eyes. 

‘It is Princess.’ He presses a kiss to the back of your hand. ‘No matter what, I’m always going to love you.’ 

Perhaps it is a testament to his grace and the love he has always given so freely to you that allows him to say it, and to smile knowing what you’re about to say, knowing that this is the end of the line. 

‘I’m sorry Ran, I’m so sorry.’ The first tear slips from your eye and falls onto your pallid cheek and on instinct, he brushes it away with his thumb. 

‘Don’t be Pretty baby, it’s my fault. I should have done better.’ 

‘No, no, it wasn’t you, it was me- I should have tried to understand you more-’

Truly you could go on all day like that, taking the blame, both of you caught up in the whirlwind of your love, of trying to save the other from more heartbreak. Was that what love was? 

‘So this is it huh?’ His eyes are so soft and kind, and the lazy sunlight hits them at just the right angle. Luminescent purple and lilac, framed by dark long lashes. He’s always been beautiful, always been elegant, always been something so ethereal that it’s almost hard to believe he’s real. Especially on the warm Sunday mornings, when the splices of sunlight drift through the slat in the curtain over his shoulder and his lips are just about parted, as if waiting for you to brush yours against them. 

You nod your assent and he sighs and it is so broken and tired but he tries for a smile again. You can see his eyes filling with tears and his hands trembling as he puts the cigarette to his lips and inhales a lungful. 

Your shoulders shake as you cry and you look so small and vulnerable sitting there in your skirt and flats, with a flower in your hair that he had put there that very morning.

‘I’m sorry- I’m sorry- I’m sorry,’ you say and it’s all you can think as he pulls you to him, holding you close with an arm around your shoulder.

‘You don’t need to keep saying it Pretty.’

‘I do- I should have loved you harder-’ The words are thick and heavy in your throat but all he does is shake his head adamantly.

‘What would that have done huh?’ He rubs your bare arm and feels the goosebumps on your skin. ‘I just want you to be safe and happy, and if that means it isn’t with me, then s’alright.’

And oh how it hurts to say those words when he wants nothing more than to hold you forever, to make love to you every night, wake up to you every morning. 

‘Its my fault.’ He kisses the crown of your head and your hair tickles his nose as he does so. ‘Should have been here more often, should have cared for you more.’

‘No-’ You shake your head and the sob sitting at the base of your throat trickles out as you wipe your nose. 

‘It is. I’m an idiot-’

‘Ran-’

‘S’alright Y/n, let me finish.’ 

This is by far the hardest thing he’s ever done, the scariest and for the first time in his life he feels the visceral fear, the terrifying sensation of being out of his depth and adrift. You’re slipping through his fingers and there is nothing he can do about it but he'd rather die than force you to stay where you’re unhappy.

‘I shouldn’t have been so absent. I did this, and you deserve better. So much better.’ There is no playfulness to his tone, no sarcasm and that’s what saddens you the most.

The tears are fast and free-flowing and you hiccup and sob against his chest, the spike of anxiety that gnaws at his stomach only growing tenfold when you clutch his shirt for support.

He had known in his heart that things would never work between you, because he had always loved you more, had loved you enough for both of you when things started to change. Sometimes you felt selfish and guilty and the knot of self-loathing in your stomach only seemed to double every time he gently caressed your back as he passed, or told you he loved you when you lay together at night, sleep pressing on your eyelids like a vice.

You don’t correct him. Maybe because he’s right, or maybe because it’s pointless. Maybe because love is so complicated and neither of you really understand.

You love him. He loves you. Once you’d thought that the simple act of loving was enough to maintain you, that love could sustain the relationship when other things could not, that the days and weeks spent away working would not add up, that you would not crave and miss him like you did. He loves you, but he doesn’t choose you. 

‘I’m an idiot,’ he says and mentally curses himself. 

Did the fact that this conversation was weeks in the making make it any easier to have? No it didn’t. Despite the fact that this was the end of the line for you, you still want him to stay. No matter what happens, you will always look for him at night and perhaps that codependency, that you once thought was love, was exactly what love wasn’t. You didn’t know. 

‘You can keep everything,’ he says, taking a shuddering breath. You need him to be strong, he thinks. You need him to be sturdy when you cannot be. So he will. ‘Whatever you want you can have. You’ll always be my Princess.’ 

‘Ran…’ You don’t mean for it to sound so desperate and full of yearning, and perhaps it’s because you’ve been crying over this for weeks, that you’ve lain awake on the nights he wasn’t here, but a choked sob rips its way from your throat. 

What was the issue here? That he didn’t love you? Or that he did and that that love wasn’t enough to make you love him in return? Yes it was true he had accepted you, every part of you. The part of you that was a dreamer, the part of you that would rather die than show it. Was that not what love was? Acceptance of a sort?

All his life he had spent climbing this insurmountable mountain. But he would jump off in a heartbeat if it meant he’d meet you at the bottom. 

There were times of course, when you could caress the concept of happiness with gentle but tentative fingers, when you could reach out and touch, ever so lightly, that blanket of comfort that hung in the sky just out of reach. Those times when happiness was a just about perceivable thing. But it wasn’t enough. Because no matter how hard you tried, the puzzle pieces just didn’t fit,as if you were knocking together two things that shouldn’t be there, that wouldn’t fit together. 

‘It’s Rindou isn’t it?’ he asks and instead of feeling the numbing fear of being found out, you only nod against his chest, resigning yourself to whatever he might say next. 

‘I’m not mad Y/n. Maybe once I would have been but I’m not. I love you, and I love my Brother.’ Even though he’s putting on a brave face, his heart is breaking. His lips are a firm line. ‘He deserves you, and you deserve him.’ 

It would be easier if he was green with jealousy, if he was angry and thrashing and hurtful, if he just hated you because hate was so easy, would be so easy to swallow and accept and maybe you could leave him knowing he would still be whole.

‘Ran I’m sor-’

‘Don’t Y/N-’ he interjects and his grip around your arm tightens just a slight. Despite how much you loathe yourself for this, and he himself too, neither of you wants to back out, to go back to pretending. 

‘How did you know?’ Your voice is so small, muffled by the fabric of his shirt. Are you prepared for the answer? No, not at all, but you still need to hear it.

He looks down at you nestled against him and gives a weak but knowing smile. ‘I know Rindou better than he knows himself. Saw the way he looked at you, and you looked at him.’

Was there a way he could have prevented this? Maybe. Maybe if he was less neglectful and Rindou didn’t have to pick up the pieces every time the job took priority, if he wasn’t always the one in your company giving you the love you should have received from him. 

‘Why did you never say anything?’ 

‘I wanted to,’ he says. ‘But I didn’t want to have that conversation.’

‘Is that it?’

Say it Ran, you plead mentally. Tell me you didn’t love me enough to care. Say something horrible to me. Punish me for it.

‘And I didn’t want to take away someone who made you happy when I was too stupid and neglectful to do so.’ That lump in his throat is so thick with unshed tears that he feels like it’s choking him. He clears his throat, hoping the hoarseness of his voice can be mistaken for his cigarette smoking and not the fact that his ribs are crushing his heart.

The gravity of the situation and his words hit you like a sledgehammer to the chest. This is happening. You are separating after four years of marriage and the weight of the years descends on you like a stormcloud.

You whine against him and he only kisses your forehead.

‘Why do you not hate me?’ Your voice cracks and your eyes sting for the umpteenth time. 

‘Could never hate you Princess. Ever.’ 

It’s a testament to the years, to the fact that experience in love has taught him so much that’s softened him into who he is now. Still playful, still devious, but with a heart that lets in love, your love and only yours. It had taken so long to get to that point and perhaps that’s what hurts the most. The time spent trying to build something, the time you both feel you’ve wasted considering the circumstances. 

You love him, you do. But you’re not in love with him. Not any longer. 

Not since Rindou.

There was the crux of the issue.You could tell Rindou loved you too. You were old enough to know what it meant when his gaze lingered after you when you left a room, the attentiveness in his actions, the deep cadence of his voice that softened when he spoke to you, the smile he reserved for the days when he kept you company by the firelight. Too many times the light had caught the softness of his lips and you had wanted nothing more than to close the distance and kiss him outright. You never did, and Rindou loved his Brother too much to do it himself.

Shame boils in your gut. 

‘I’ll call the lawyers tomorrow,’ Ran whispers and removes his arms from around you, opting to take your hand in his instead. You’re grateful for the fact that he’s taken the initiative, realizing that maybe this is how it’s always been. Him racing ahead and you trailing behind after him, driftwood lost at shore.

‘Ran?’ Your voice quivers on his name. 

‘Yeah?’ 

‘Thank you…’ 

‘For what Princess?’ He doesn’t expect to be thanked for anything, least of all during the moment where he’s breaking your heart and you’re breaking his.

For some of the best days of my life. For being my first love. For loving me when I felt unlovable, in the moments I was unlovable.

‘Everything,’ you say and even though you want to cry, to sob, to wrench open a tear in the sky, you smile at him and the tension dissipates a little when he returns the smile, albeit hesitantly. Because even though you’re both in pain, you know that it doesn’t last. 

Maybe love between people like the two of you is eternal. Maybe there is no end. Maybe there will always be a string of fate that ties you together. 

a/n: I actually wrote this six months ago lol, how d'ya like it guys? I may write a part two (I have an idea already) depending on how you like this. I promise I do like Ran even if I'm constantly hurting him. I hope you all like it!

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[ms0milk]

𝟑 | 𝐓𝐨 𝐂𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐨𝐟 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝

ー✧ prince!bakugou x royal guard!reader

"The whistle of something moving too fast sings through the trees and you reach across your body without the privilege of planning your actions."

cw the terrible roadtrip™ part 2/2, bkg does not get better (in fact it feels worse). you finally have his attention/ classic everyone-has-to-bathe-in-the-river scene, a touch of pining. depictions of suspense/panic, the first earnest attempt on your life 3.7k

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Days pass more peacefully than not as the journey progresses. This is the farthest you’ve ever been from the castle without your master and with every unfamiliar step you’re more and more thankful you aren’t permitted a seat in the carriage. Delicate, blue, quilted, or otherwise, carriage rides are stifling and smell too much like blood.

The prince seems to hate carriages as much as you do because since the morning of the second day, he’s taken it upon himself to climb from the window as it bumps and jitters along the road and hoist his body onto the small flat roof where he lays for hours sending up pale fireworks. He doesn’t speak or grumble or punch up there. There’s no bitching, as Aizawa would say and so no one tries very hard to stop him. There are no fiery tantrums when your little caravan has to stop for Mina’s fourth bathroom break of the afternoon, or when Sero has to hold Kaminari out the window to stave off motion sickness. The prince just runs sparks through his hands paying little, if any, attention to his friends or chaperones.

Your hips are numb now and well-worn, so there’s not much else to focus on except for His Highness idling on the carriage in front of you. He refused to change into the riding clothes provided, so his furs and long red cape are the only vestiges of home for miles. His royal jewelry, red and gold, catch the light. Lying still and quiet like this, a stranger could be forgiven for thinking the fair prince to be docile.

Images of a younger, wider-eyed royal pitter patter through your memory for a second, which you try to dislodge with a shake of your head. Your earrings stir delicately against your face and you’re reminded of home again.

On the carriage ahead the prince raises his arm now to the sky and flickers of white and purple jump between his thick scarred fingers. His hands are heavy. They’re worn from a childhood of trial and error in honing his parent’s magic. The spark he balances on his skin grows from an ember to a star so he rolls onto his knees to feed it with both hands. In seconds, it puckers and sputters between his palms in a new vibrancy, and green smoke winds up like lace across his cheeks.

It’s beautiful. You want to tell the destructive prince that his magic is “so beautiful.”

“Of course you’d think that,” he clears his throat with the words without looking your way and it becomes suddenly obvious that you’ve spoken– all you dreamed of saying– out loud. You readjust stiffly on your horse.

“You’d be dazzled if I took a dump on the carriage.” His voice is thunder, and it’s more and more apparent to you that your prince must be dying of boredom. “What’re you here for?”

“Her Majesty sent me, for protection.”

He doesn’t quite look at you as much as he glances in your general direction. That red cape of his twists across his chest in the breeze while he lingers on the outline of your horse. “What could you protect me from huh? The fucking bugs?” Thunder and lightning now, “You gonna lance the mosquitoes before they land a fatal blow?”

“It’s a halberd, Highness. And yes, if you’d like me to I can keep the bugs away.”

He makes strikingly angry eye contact with you just once, just a blink from carriage to saddle, and it’s obvious you’ve said something wrong. Wordplay isn’t your strength. Whit and whim don’t flow like water for you the way they do the queen, but she often pulls you into meetings or seeks you out on post with quandaries because your honesty entertains her. You think– you hope. You hope the prince is like her in that sense, but he only sucks his teeth and turns away.

Hours pass, then a day, then two, and you’re so far from the comfort of familiar autumnal forests that you start to lose track of yourself.

“I’m starving!” Kaminari whines, and you realize you are too. Kirishima and the prince are all too excited to dive into the trees for a chance to stretch and hunt, so much so that they’re already out of earshot by the time you’ve stepped out of your saddle. Aizawa assures you they’ll be fine and in just a few hours the entire camp is shrieking over ghost stories and roast turkey.

“I’m exhausted!” Sero yawns and kicks the largest burning log to bring down the brightness of the fire. It takes sudden darkness to realize that you’re fighting back sleep. In the morning you pick apart fresh fish a la Kirishima and Mina jumps at the opportunity for a bath. “I stink!” she laments, and you realize much the same. So at Aizawa’s instruction the caravan sets up camp beside the river and everyone but you races to dive into the icy cold for as long as they can stand. Even the prince seems eager for a break and starts unclasping his earrings on his way down through the trees.

The water is just over the flat ridge where Shinsou and his mentor stop the carriage. While the three of you untack horses and otherwise set up camp for the evening, Aizawa continuously fiddles with ties and his long hair. He calls your name, and Shinsou’s, and you look up briefly from where you’re unbuckling your saddle’s makeshift scabbard and tying your halberd to your back.

“You two join the others. Go wash. I’ll finish here.” And you can’t help but think Master Aizawa is much softer than he lets on. He hasn’t told the rest of your western company yet, but Takoba and the sea are only a few miles beyond the break of the forest which is only a few miles away from where you’re standing now. “The city gates close at sundown, so it’s just as well that you all have a swim and we rest here tonight.”

You’re not too keen on bathing in high comapny, but at the very least you are your prince’s keeper.

One more day to Takoba Castle. You imagine just what the city might look like. You’ve studied all the kingdoms on the continent of course, suffering through years of Jeanist’s compulsatory tutelage, but all you really know about Takoba is its royal lineage and basic strategic positioning; it’s a castle on the sea.

At the river, a party is well-underway where Mina has a horribly bashful Kirishima boxed in on a rock between her bare thighs, squealing, “You reek little huntsman!” while she washes his back.

Kaminari and Sero manage a bit more modesty in the deep water of the bend, and Shinsou wades down near the bank with his tunic already up and coming over his head. The sun’s still warm this time of year, warm enough to bathe outside, but the wind is ready for winter. Every time a breeze slips through the trees a collective howl goes up from your wet company scattered along the riverbed. You stand guard next to the beaten path to the bank and watch the group splash happily.

“Get in Bakugou!”

The prince is the only one still dry, only a few steps away from you, taking his time removing his jewelry. He sets it all on one of the large sun rocks and then unlaces his vest with nimble fingers. Those same fingers thumb open the buckle of his belt with a flick, and his boots go next, then his– he’s closer than you realize and he throws his bundled cape to the base of the stone. “Fuckin’ coming, leave me be.”

The water ripples around his bare ankles. A few more steps and he’s already ducking his ash blond head underwater.

“C’mon sweaty, I know you’re the worst outta the bunch of us!”

“I said fuck off!”

It’s strange, the way they speak to each other. The prince is no different than you’ve ever known him, but while you lift and shake his cape free of pine needles and watch the scene ahead you consider how often he prefers to be alone. He and Kirishima are brothers, family sure, and he often accompanies his parents but friends have never occurred to you. All you know about him you’ve heard from the queen, or seen through a crack in the library doors when the two of you were meant to be sleeping.

His back tenses with the cold air and cold water so you can see the muscles clearly there while he smooths down wet hair, or when he flexes palm over bicep in a stretch after coming up for air. His shoulders shift like sculptures and they’re sharp. Unlike sweet Kirishima whose whole strong body is soft, Bakugou grew like jagged lighting. He was only just a scrawny boy and now the milky gold of his thighs ripples with muscle like a jungle cat. His waist, dramatic, his boxy hands always itching to be fists. You’d laugh if you were less focused, at just how angry Bakugou still looks even when his back is turned.

“Miss Y/n!” Kaminari has his hands cupped around his mouth, “You too!”

The prince’s cape spills from your arms when you’re, a bit overwhelmingly, brought back to reality and you scoop the bundle up before it can touch the ground again. Now the lot of them are hollering at you, “it’s not that cold,” and, “yes it is!” and, “I’ll wash your back!”

You’re still doubled over when you shout back, “I’ll wash later,” half to the dirt, and, “I must remain at my post.” So you can’t be blamed for your surprise at the prince’s advancing glare when you stand back up again.

He’s already clean and completely out of the water and moving toward you quickly enough that your instinct is to draw your halberd from your back. So much so that you hesitate to make any other movements. His shaggy blond hair lays wet and pushed straight back away from his face in a style Jeanist always says, looks quite handsome (and then will lament about for the rest of the day when it inevitably dries straight up in every direction) and for as many seconds as it takes for him to reach you, you think that Jeanist is right.

“Oi!”

What happened to him you wonder, to make him so abrasive?

“C’mon you creep, stand at fucking attention.”

Prince Bakugou snatches his cape back from your still-processing hands as you look up, up, up from his dripping chest to his throat and stop decidedly on those glassy red eyes to avoid having to look anywhere else. He really does resemble his parents so much it’s almost confusing to hear such a bitter voice barking out orders to you. Behind him in the river, Kirishima and Mina watch with worry.

The prince holds your stare this time, no bristling or darting. He pins the cape like a cloak across his body and jerks his head closer to yours– your– your bad habit takes over and the only thing you can do is look at him.

“You’ve been nothin but eyes this whole fucking trip– got any idea who you’re staring at?”

Of course you do. Unmarred skin, long light eyelashes, a sweet caramel musk– what is he saying? He’s picking a fight. Look away, look away. Your eyes go wide for one more single second, one more second inches away from hot red hatred, and you drop your head.

“My deepest apologies, Your Highness.”

Though he’s already done, gone and shouldering past you, back up the bank to collect his finery from the rocks. He bathes quickly.

You’re not particularly quick to wash in the evening. Your companions return to the camp without much more fuss about your joining them after the prince leaves. Mina doesn’t shriek or holler or dance her way warm again. The boys don’t have stories to tell. The prince soaks up the last few sun rays reading a book atop the carriage at camp and all is quiet.

You carry on with evening tasks, although brushing your horse’s white mane free of filth is much more enticing right now than approaching the carriage for day’s-end checks. Dinner supplies are assembled from the last few ration items. Laundry is a desperate state of affairs and it’s palpable just how excited everyone is to arrive at Takoba in the morning even if they aren’t bursting at the seams to tell you about it.

Aizawa is the only one that doesn’t seem to be acting much differently considering he’s always too exhausted for much of a personality. He’s spent the afternoon mending a tear in his saddle and trying unsuccessfully to keep his long hair tied away from his face so when he leaves his project to speak with you across camp, the lack of frustration in his voice is a kind surprise.

“Go on.” His words are gentle, “They’re safe with me and the sun will set soon.” He gestures towards the edge of the ridge and the river beyond it, which at this point seems more cold than its worth. But glancing back at the camp, Kirishima and Shinsou building a fire, Kaminari peeling apples– the general silence– is less appealing than even pneumonia. You dip your head in thanks.

You’re careful not to wet your hair when you sink into the miserable water, and risk getting sick while on duty. Your survival instincts scream to you that wet hair is the least of your concerns considering the shock of cold that is the river without sunlight. Now you realize why the prince made such quick work of washing himself. Mina is inhuman to have swam for so long. With your riding clothes laid out on the shore you slip into the silty water up to your knees, then to your bare hips, until you’re squatting as deep as you can manage right below the ribs.

The sun is long set behind trees and so you wash in the dark, naked and cold as you’ve ever been in your life, in the autumnal river below camp. The light of Kirishima’s fire crests over the lip of the ridge and carries soft voices along with its glow. Some good nights, and a laugh. Probably the redhead’s. His voice is soft and commanding, but the faint chatter and whispers from the others are distant and otherworldly and you feel all the more naked when you eye Jeanist’s halberd quite out of reach on the shore. Quiet voices don’t sound like ghosts in the castle, only out in the woods.

You bring the water with cupped hands to new skin stiffening, and miss soap. And miss beds and Jeanist, and the queen. She has so much hope for your future with her son and it’s unbearably ironic that the first mission you’re responsible for is the one where he’s realized he hates you. You try to picture Takoba again, having never seen the sea.

Instead of thinking about the prince you think of seashell spires sticking out of the sand. Fifty stories and filled with castle staff dressed all in seafoam lace. What else looks like the sea? Pearls dotting the city walls that Aizawa said were so close– and soft glass for the sentinel’s swords instead of steel. The eastern queen and her children must bathe like mermaids in warm sea water; rivers and streams are always cold and running but the sea is so big, it must be warm. It must be still. Now you’re thinking of baths. And of home and bread, and the library and the prince who hates you– there’s a crunch from the brush.

You’re leagues faster than quick in pulling yourself ashore silently and slinging your tunic over your wet chest.

“This horrible fucking forest–” What was first a faint sound becomes a voice and it’s clearly the prince grumbling, “–Takoba’s such a shitshow.”

His growl is a comfort that keeps you from reaching any farther for your weapon. Kirishima’s comes next, “You’re just cranky.”

You close your eyes in relief once you’re positive the only thing you hear is the two of them. They’re wandering over the ridge, not close enough for you to see them from where you’re pulling on your pants, but close enough to follow the conversation. You hook your earrings back into place when you’ve settled enough to collect your belongings and continue to listen.

It’s very rude to raise your voice in the forest, so the prince stops short of howling in his anger, “They’re gonna dress me up like a dumbfuck puppet! I hate–”

“Katsuki, it’s just some earrings, they’re not–”

“– those fucking seagulls'll eat this up! First they find me new jewelry, then I need new boots, then my cloak is too worn– I’ll kill them.”

“I’ve never heard anyone complain as much as you do about getting new clothes.”

There’s a rustle and you swear it’s coming from the opposite direction of camp. Then the sound of stifled sputtering anger, accompanying laughter, and their conversation continues above. With Jeanist’s halberd secured on your back, you lace up your shoes.

“You shoulda beat me to Takoba, old man.”

You startle but don’t scream when the new voice announces itself so clearly. Instead you rally your polearm to attention and crouch with your back to the steep rocky ridge.

“Not even a hello?”

“Be careful Ei, the brambles.”

“No hug for your favorite student?”

“Kats wait, ow!”

“No love for an alum?”

The prince and the champion’s voices are just far away enough that they compete with the new one for your attention. You have to be able to hear if they’re safe. You have to make it back to camp. A hum rolls over the babble of the water now. The new voice is coming from everywhere, beside you and across the river all at once. There’s no sound of splashing or of twigs snapping. It’s a ghost moving closer and farther from you through the breeze.

“Should I give you a head start?”

The burnt drawl mingles with the prince barking distantly from above and sends a chill through your heels into the Earth. Like someone whispering directly in one ear and a cold breeze falling out of the other. Bakugou is too far to hear any warning calls you might shout to him. Without that incentive, shouting would only reveal your identity and give away your position. There’s a moment of silence and then a disturbance in the branches hanging low over the river.

“You’re not Aizawa.”

Above and unseen, the boys give up on their search.

“We’ll find your earrings, Katsuki, don’t worry. Tomorrow, when the sun comes up.”

“Where'd they fucking go?”

“Probably dropped them when you threw your clothes at Y/n like some unkempt woodland creature.” The prince stifles a laugh so that his friend doesn’t get encouraged, but Kirishima, never one to rely on cues, dives in. “If I may–”

“You may not,” Bakugou bites. He hikes his cape a bit higher to feign chill and turns back toward center camp, resigning himself to play dress-up once they reach the city. Kirishima trails him through the underbrush back to the clearing. It’s peaceful at camp among friends before you erupt onto the scene.

Shinsou shoos a firefly from Kaminari's sleeping cheek, and the outline of a bundled Master Aizawa rises and falls with deep breath beside the carriage. Next to Sero, Mina is tucked under a blanket on her bedroll, lulling herself to sleep watching the dance of the small fire. Wide empty eyes. Prince Bakugou has his cape wrapped tightly around broad shoulders while he hums and haws some complaint in Kirishima’s direction. He fingers his empty earlobes while he talks. 

When you burst through the branches of the willow tree, the group abandons all decorum at your, “Highness!”

The prince jerks around to face you with a hand on his sword and Shinsou is similarly armed in seconds behind him. The travelers jolt up with adrenaline and much farther away, in a dark part of camp, Aizawa has drawn his bow. His eyes train on the shadows through the trees.

“Wers and mers, Y/n! What in th–” Kirishima startles and accidentally bats the irons above the fire with the kettle he’s using to boil water. The metal thrum rings over the clearing and resets the silence as you back up against the prince. He’s still looking around over your head.

“There’s a man in the trees, Highness, he’s looking for Aizawa. Please return to the carr–”

“I’m in just the mood for a bandit.”

“Highness now is not–”

The whistle of something moving too fast sings through the trees and you reach across your body without the privilege of planning your actions. You press your back into the prince’s chest and draw his sword from his hip with only enough time to grace the clearing with a grunt and slice through the air in an arc in front of you.

An apple connects with the swing of the sword. It shatters from wherever in the distant dark woods it was thrown, and erupts wet across your face and thighs as it is cleaved down the middle. Making sure to keep the prince directly between your shoulders, the halves fly limply to either side of your bodies and the clearing is quiet again.

Your prince’s breath is hot so close to the back of your neck and Kirishima’s features grow sharper in the firelight. Mina has barely moved from her bedroll, “I don’t understand. Y/n what–”

It’s coming. “Kirishima!” You try to issues warnings just as the apple halves ignite in the dirt– as the prince jerks his arms in front of you.

A little ways below your dragontooth, Bakugou’s palm is pressed flat to your ribcage as sword and shield and just a hair’s breadth away from bullseye, his other fist has caught an arrow. An arrow that, in one blink, bursts into a flaming blue beacon.

“Aizawa!”

“Aizawa?”

The first voice is Shinsou’s and it’s full of worry. The second is the ghost’s and he’s smiling. You can hear it.

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