#guess who got a fancy pen

[1000fingers]

everything goes dark, and you die.

[ramshacklerumble]

Party at Ramshackle..? For…who…?

Set to Home Screen: Sit with me.

Home Transition 1: I haven't had a birthday since I was a kid, I hated them. No, this is different. It's nice.

Home Transition 2: Here. We made a bunch of rock candy at the Science Club. Mine are the pink ones.

Home, after login: The guys worked really hard to make Ramshackle look good, come see.

✨NEW ✨ Home Transition (Groovification): Ace’s birthday is two days after mine. He’s trying to convince Riddle to hold an unbirthday party tomorrow.

Tap Home 1: Deuce bought me a new journal. Looks fancy, like a tough field journal with a waterproof pen. He noticed my old one falling apart, I guess...

Tap Home 2: Got a big prickly pear cactus from Jack. He looked at me weird when I said I like'em grilled.

Tap Home 3: Ortho gave me my own Duel Beasts deck since I always borrow from his cards when we play. He has a ultra rare for me, but I gotta beat him first.

Tap Home 4: Epel carried in a huge crate of apple cider. Uh, for me. Not the party. I drink it by the bottle.

Tap Home 5: Kingsley and Sebek both gave me books on flora across Twisted Wonderland, but at different times. They can be so similar sometimes. ...Don't tell them that.

✨NEW ✨Tap Home (Groovification): I’m smiling? Yeah, I do that sometimes.

DUO MAGIC: You got this for me, Grim? / A good boss'gotta take good care of his henchie sometimes!

tag list:

@cyanide-latte @inmateofthemind @tixdixl @blithesharem @thehollowwriter @jovieinramshackle

@theleechyskrunkly @skriblee-ksk @boopshoops @the-trinket-witch @twistedwonderlandshenanigans @kimikitti

@felix-cant-ski @nightwingshero @water-writings @beneathsakurashade (dm to be added)

[storiesofsvu]

City Views

Rafael Barba x reader warnings: language, smut, oral, a form of cock warming i guess? lol, dirty talking, cum shot. requested: yup. can't remember who lol. Havent written for Barba or watched his eps in a while so hopefully this isn’t ooc.

Rafael was in his home office later than he had originally planned, one thing simply turned into another and another and another, the next thing he knew the small pile of paperwork had become a mountain. Normally this was just a minor frustration, but tonight was supposed to be date night.

When you’d first gotten home you’d checked in, leaving a kiss on the top of his head, asking how long he thought he would be. An hour and a half later and you were back, sliding a glass of scotch onto his desk with a small sigh and a raised brow that silently asked when he was going to close up shop. An hour after that you’d given up hope for stage one, wandering back into the office to place a take out container on his desk, making sure that he at least ate. Every intrusion pulled his focus, causing him to lose his train of thought and have to start all over again, even if you didn’t actually say anything. Which is why when the door creaked open again he let out a huff, his pen lifting up off the paper as he started to speak.

“If you interrupt me one more time so help me god I will—” He completely forgot how to speak when his eyes moved from the paper in front of him to the doorway and his mouth practically started to water.

You’d changed out of your clothes, a simple yet stunning black lace three piece set hugging your skin perfectly, adorned with light pink flowers, though the kicker was Rafael’s favourite shirt draped over your shoulders, hanging open in the front so he could get a glimpse of the lingerie. You let out a small chuckle, sauntering through the room up to the side of his desk and your fingers curled under his chin, closing his mouth.

“Cat got your tongue?”

“I...” he started, gulping as his eye swept over your body, lingering on the swell of your chest and you smiled.

“See something you like?”

“I most certainly do.” His hands came to grip your hips, tugging you towards him as they slid up your sides, spreading warmth across your skin, “querida you look amazing, but you know I have to finish this.”

“No one said anything about you stopping.” With a smirk you sunk to your knees, hands spreading his legs so you could settle between them, “I’m sure I can find something to keep me occupied.”

“Christ.” Muttering, he shook his head at you, nudging you backwards slightly so his chair was closer to the desk and he picked up his pen again.

Only a moment later your hands were softly rubbing up and down the inside of his thighs, squeezing every so often and every time he glanced down he had a perfect view of your cleavage, pushed up by the fancy bra, your nipples nearly peaking over the top of the lace. He took a deep breath, feeling himself twitching in his pants already and did his best to focus on the work in front of him.

Your hands continued to rub up his thighs, one of them coming even higher to palm at his cock through his pants and he let out a groan, unable to control his hips rocking toward the touch. You continued to grope him, smirking at the feeling of him starting to get hard, knowing just what kind of an affect you were having on him. Your hands reached up to his belt, undoing the buckle before slipping into his pants, pulling them down a few inches to pull his cock out and he let out a hiss.

You spat into your hand before wrapping it around him, beginning to lazily stroke, letting out a needy whine as he got hard, twitching in your hand. Above you he let out a soft sigh, his eyes briefly closing, fingers clenching around his pen before he attempted to shake out of it.

“You like that?” You asked, a smirk in your voice as your hand tightened around him, squeezing ever so softly and a drop of pre-cum began to leak out of his tip.

“You know I do.” He groaned, hips rocking toward you, thrusting his cock further into your hand.

“If this is too distracting I could always just play with myself…” You teased, your hand leaving him and trailing down your own body. You barely got it to the waist of your panties before Rafael let out a low growl, catching your other wrist in his hand, tugging you closer to him.

“Uh-uh.” He shook his head, “you know better than that.”

Grinning, you leant forward on your knees, your hands braced on his upper thighs and your tongue darted out to wet your lips, “you want me to suck your cock while you work? Keep you nice and warm and hard until you’re finally ready to fuck me?” You licked a broad stripe up from the base of his cock to the tip, flicking it, lapping up the pre-cum as you did so and he twitched again, “stretch my pussy out, fuck me nice and deep, filling me up completely.” Your words were accented by kisses along his shaft, sucking at the sensitive skin, “I’m wet already just thinking about it.”

Rafael’s free hand tangled into your hair, redirecting your mouth so he could drive his cock between your lips, “then get to work.”

“Mmmhm.” You mumbled back, slowing sinking down on his cock until the tip of it hit the back of your throat.

You held yourself there, tongue drawing patterns across his cock, tracing the veins as you moaned around him, sucking him deeper into your mouth, feeling him throb. You hollowed your cheeks, relaxing your throat so he could press even further into you. You could hear the scratching of his pen as he scribbled through whatever he was working on, but you could also hear that his breathing was getting laboured. Rafael began to shift uncomfortably in his seat, your mouth incredibly warm and wet around him, holding him there, tickling at his cock with your tongue. He twitched inside your mouth, letting out a quiet swear when you moaned around him, the vibration enough to make him stall in his words. You could feel the drool pooling in the corners of your mouth beginning to leak out of your lips, smearing around the base of his cock and you finally pulled off, taking a gasping breath.

Your hand replaced your lips, stroking up and down his length while your mouth moved down to his balls, sucking them into your mouth, your tongue toying with them. A groan left your lips as you rubbed your thighs together, pussy pulsing around nothing, eager for Rafael’s cock to fill you up. Your mouth slipped off his balls, a string of drool connecting the base of his cock to your lips and you glanced up at him with a smirk when you felt his eyes on you.

“God you’re so pretty like this…” he mumbled, his hand caressing your cheek gently, thumb tracing the outline of your lips and you were quick to suck it into your mouth. “Such a good little cock sucker.”

He pulled his thumb out of your mouth, causing you to chase after it, your lips landing on the head of his cock when he wrapped his hand around it, redirecting it into your mouth before his hand moved to the back of your head. He guided you up and down, pressing ever so lightly on your head when you deep throated him, setting up a languid pace for you to bob on his cock. As relaxed as you were, you weren’t afraid to start to make a bit of a mess, spit slicking his length, coating your lips, smearing across the crotch of his pants, a bit of drool dripping down your chin.

Rafael could feel his heart racing in his chest, the sounds coming from below him were driving him absolutely wild and he knew by the way you’d began rocking your hips in time with your bobbing that your pussy was completely drenched. His writing was getting sloppier and he knew he was going to have trouble reading it in the morning, but the thoughts of work were slowing slipping from his mind as the only thing he began to worry about was the feeling of you choking on his dick. He managed another sentence before tossing down his pen and letting out a louder moan, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes.

You pulled off his cock with a lewd pop, a small giggle escaping your wet lips, “finished?”

“Something else came up.” He muttered, smirking down at you and you chuckled, still stroking him.

“Certainly did.” With a wink you wrapped your lips around his cock again, picking up the pace as his hips began to rock up to meet your mouth, hands tangling into your hair again. You took him as deep as you could, hands massaging his balls and he grunted, throbbing in your mouth before he finally pulled you off, leaving you panting.

“If you keep that up you’re gonna make me come.” His hands slid down to your shoulders, yanking you up and into his lap, where his hand found its way between your legs, cupping your heat, “and considering you’ve ruined these panties it would be a waste to not feel that gorgeous pussy.”

With a quick smirk Rafael leant in, catching your lips in a kiss, groaning over the taste of himself in your mouth as your tongues quickly started rolling against one another. His arms wound around you, holding you close as he stood up and you wrapped your legs around his waist. You couldn’t resist grinding your clothed cunt against his hard on, your panties dampening from both sides now. He crossed the room to the couch across from his desk, gently dropping you onto it.

“Why don’t you get rid of that excuse for underwear?” He asked, his hands making quick work of his shirt, letting it drop to the floor behind him.

Your hands reached up behind your, un clasping the bra and tossing it aside, “you could just pull them to the side?”

“God you’re feeling dirty tonight, aren’t you?” Rafael grinned, stepping toward you so he could cup your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples and you let out a happy sigh that morphed into a moan when he pinched at them, gripping the flesh harder.

“Got bored,” your eyes fluttered shut as he continued to play with your tits, “watched a few videos…”

“And were you touching yourself?”

“Only over my panties.”

“Good girl.” His hands left your chest, one cupping your cheek to direct you into a kiss before he shoved his pants down, “now get up on your knees and turn around.”

You eagerly did as asked, bracing yourself on the back of the couch and sticking your ass out as Rafael dimmed the lights in the room, making the view through the darkened window come a little more to life. Stories above the city streets below, the skyline full of sparkling lights, night sky twinkling with stars, you were high enough there was a very little chance of anyone seeing you, but the thrill was still there and sent shivers through your body. Rafael’s hands soothed up your thighs, pulling your cheeks apart before his fingers slipped into your thong, pulling it off to the side to expose your glistening pussy.

“God you’re just fucking drenched.” He muttered, bending over you to swipe his tongue through your folds, pulling a gasp from your lips as he sucked on your cunt for a moment, growling at the taste of your juices. “Always so sweet querida.” Two of his fingers easily sunk into you and you couldn’t help but push back onto them, whining as your eyes fluttered shut and he chuckled, “and already ready for me… you really are needy tonight.”

“Raf.. please…” Your head fell forward onto your forearms, practically panting in need as his fingers danced across your body, a feather light touch on your skin that left fire in its tracks.

“God you’re so hot when you beg.” He replied, hand wrapping around his cock as he guided it your leaking cunt.

He rutted against you, cock sliding through your folds, smearing your juices all along it and you let out a long moan, body shaking as wetness leaked out of you. It wasn’t a want, it was a need, your pussy absolutely throbbing, your clit swollen and sensitive, twitching every time his dick rubbed past it. He finally gave you some relief when the head of his cock nudged at your cunt and your body relaxed, a sigh escaping your lips as he sunk deeper into your heat inch by inch.

“Fuck…” You groaned, pushing your hips back toward him, making sure every inch of him was fully seated inside your throbbing cunt.

“You’re squeezing me so tight already, shit.”

Rafael braced his hands on your hips, starting to pull his cock out until only the tip was left inside you before he sunk all the way in again, moaning right along with you. You were perfect, pussy fitting him like a fucking glove, pulsing around him like heaven, just the way he craved, the way he loved. He couldn’t help but set a steady pace, knowing you were both so riled up already he didn’t want to waste time but also didn’t want to come instantly. Each thrust of his hips were met with a little squeak or whimper from you, the harder ones earned moans, soft swears, his name tumbling from your lips like a sweet prayer.

“S-so good.” You groaned out, gripping the back of the couch harder when Rafael circled his hips, cock hitting every spot of your walls.

“Take me so well.” He husked, picking up the pace, a hand sliding up your back until it tangled into the roots of your hair, tugging your head up so you could see the faint reflection in the dark window.

“Fuck…”

“Like that don’t you?” He chuckled, “bet you wish they could see how you take my cock, hmm? How messy this little pussy is? God you’re dripping down your thighs that’s how much you like the way I fuck you, isn’t it?”

“Mmhmm.” You managed out, a strangled moan breaking free from your throat, “ ‘m close…so close…”

Rafael knew what you were begging for, and he knew he wasn’t far behind you, hand winding around you to find your clit, pads of his fingers rubbing at it, pressing harder with each circle. You were slick with wetness, clit hard and throbbing under his fingers while your pussy pulsed around his cock, juices coating it, squelching noises and the sound of skin on skin bouncing off the walls of the room.

“Come for me querida, come all over my cock.” He grunted, feeling himself throb inside you, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm, stuttering against yours as you cried out, pussy clamping down around him as your juices dribbled out, leaking down your thighs.

“Fuck!”

It was only a second later that he groaned, his hips hitting yours, cock deep inside your cunt as his cum shot out of him, coating your walls and you let out another whimper at the sensation. He squeezed at the base of his dick, making sure to fill you with as much cum as he could, your pussy milking every last drop out of him. He dropped his torso over yours, holding you flush to him as he panted, messy kisses pressed to the back of your shoulders as your bodies trembled together.

“Oh my god…” He mumbled and you laughed softly, shifting to collapse to the couch underneath him, whining when his cock slipped from you.

“Still mad about the interrupting?” You asked with a smirk as you rolled over and it was his turn to laugh.

“Absolutely not.”

_____________________

@fandom-princess-forevermore @thatesqcrush @alexusonfire @bisexualcrowley @detective-giggles @plaidbooks @averyhotchner @beccabarba @permanentlydizzy @prurientpuddlejumper @letsdisneythings @neely1177 @mrsrafaelbarba @lv7867 @bisexual-dreamer02 @skittle479 @amelia-song-pond @madamsnape921 @altsvu @svulife-rl @caracalwithchips @mysticfalls01 @ssaic-jareau @barbasbodaciousbeard @alwaysachorusgirl @beardedbarba @michael-rooker @rafivadafreddy @darkheart-brightsmile @australiancarisi @ex-uallyactive @lawandorderuswnt @lustvolle-liebe @sia2raw @narvaldetierra @lannister-slings-and-arrows @poisonedcrowns @anlin2058 @xoxabs88xox @momlifebehard @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @godard-muse @somethingimaginative17 @alexxavicry @dextur @onmykneesformarvel @kmc1989 @valentinesfrog @silversprings-mp3 @wittygutsy

[blarshwritezz]

Yandere Clone x Reader

Male Yan x gn reader

TW - general yandere behavior, torture, manipulation

Clone!Yan wasn't even supposed to exist. If only your boyfriend had never agreed to that stupid experiement.

It was sketchy, but paid hella good money, and the two of you were going through hard times. You guys really needed the cash. Especially since he was starting to consider proposing.

You told him it was too risky. You told him there were much better ways to make money. Safer ways. But he was blinded by all those zeros. 10 million sure does motivate someone. Even you were considering joining in too.

The day he left for it, you nearly cried. It's been a long time since you had to spend a night without him.

But finally, he came back a week later! Something was just...different. When he held you, he seemed stronger than usual. He seemed to blink less, and stare at you more. He was getting very jealous very easily. Sure he had some slight jealousy issues before he went off, but it wasn't ever this bad...

At first, you considered it side effects of whatever those awful people did, or that it was just because he missed you. But it only seemed to get worse...

You'd notice him eating less, exercising less, doing everything he usually did less...

He used the money from the experiment to buy the two of you a lovely little home somewhere peaceful. Nothing fancy, the two of you didn't need too much. Just a quaint little home in the suburbs.

In that home, you realized there was always this suspicious locked room. When you asked him about it, he just said, "Oh, that? Yeah, I think it's pretty weird too. I guess the previous owners just locked it and forgot to give us the key."

Lately, he's seemed pretty dismissive when you were worried.

But some nights, you swore you heard strange noises coming from that room. Things like scratching, muffled screams, faint groans, and even whispers of your name.

One night, you had enough. It was one of those rare nights where your boyfriend would get up, presumably to use the restroom or get a glass of water, and not return for over an hour.

Silently, you crept down the hall. The door to that room was slightly ajar, the light of the moon peaking out. You got just close to peak in and what you saw was not only horrifying but confusing as well.

There was your boyfriend, holding a bloody pen, standing above...himself? But a grotesque and mutilated version of himself.

You backed away in horror, only to crash into something behind you, making a loud noise. Nearly instantly, your "boyfriend" was at the door staring at you.

"Oh dear, my lovely [Y/N]...you weren't supposed to see this yet. It was going to be a surprise." The man spoke, a twisted grin on his face. "I guess now I have to tell you early."

He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the room. No matter how much you struggled, no matter how strong you were, he was more powerful. His bruising grip could have broken your bone, but he was being oh so careful with you.

"You see, my dearest, this man you called your boyfriend was just pathetic...he didn't have the balls to give you everything you deserve. But I can. I can be perfect for you. I'm him, but better in every way." He whispered, his cold breath against your neck as he held you tight and forced you to look at the man who could hardly be recognized as your sweet boyfriend.

"I won't ever age, or change, or ever go against you. Why, I was made for you..."

You were so confused, and he could tell. But your words were stuck in your throat. It was a good thing he could read you so well.

"Don't you remember? All those months ago, the experiment? The scientists who created me needed a dumb test monkey down on their luck, and your old boyfriend was perfect for that role. They took his skin, his blood, his hair, every bit of DNA they could to make me. The only thing missing was the transference of subconscious, and well, the only thing he could think of was you. So naturally, the only thing I can think of, is you~"

He wrapped his artificial arms around your waist tightly, making sure you didn't fall over. You felt like you would be sick...

"Unfortunately, I have to keep him alive. If he dies, I will too. But I recently decided to take out his eyes. That way he'll never get to see you again. Only I should have such an honor."

He started kissing your neck, making you feel even more disgusted. Right in front of you was your beloved boyfriend, the very one you hoped to spend your life with, turned to this shell of what he once was. You could hardly even see his skin tone beneath all the blood.

"Don't worry, just rest. You'll never have to see that failure again..." With those last few words, he covered your mouth with a cloth. You were already paralyzed in fear, too terrified to fight back this time.

He watched you for the rest of the night...and the next day...and the next night, and the next day, and the next night. Never once were you free from the thing that claimed to be your boyfriend.

Or rather, husband now. He was so glad you finally agreed! Not that you had much of a choice.

Yea, feeling this one! Different style than usual, woo!

[bowsellie]

we have chemistry

warnings: college!ellie x college!reader, stoner!ellie, chronically ill reader (not specific, just mentions of fatigue and a medical accommodation for a single room for plot reasons lol), weed usage (Ellie and reader), mild language, briefly proofread, no use of y/n minors dni! smut in 3rd section! top!ellie, some degradation, praise (reader called a good girl, pretty girl, etc., ellie told she's doing a good job), SO MUCH CONSENT WE <3 CONSENT, fingering (r! receiving), oral (r! receiving), aftercare.

💗💗💗

You didn't want to be taking organic chemistry. Nobody in that class did--not even the chemistry majors. But as finals season rolled around, you found yourself spending extra time to make sure that it would at least be worth your while. Needless to say, not everybody shared the same drive.

As the clock hit 8:49am on the last class before the exam, everybody started shoving their laptops away despite the professor's continuing drone. To your right there was an extra loud snap! as the student beside you--an auburn-haired girl you'd never seen before--shut the screen with finality. You shot her a glare, gently closing your notebook as people began to trickle out.

"You're smart, right?"

You angled your face towards the sound, assuming somebody was having a side conversation close by. Instead, you found yourself face to face with striking green eyes leaning to reach your line of sight.

"Hi. Yeah, you. You're using an actual notebook and have all the fancy pens and shit, so...are you smart?"

Your eyebrows drew together slightly as you shrugged with one shoulder. "I try, I guess. Um...why?"

One corner of the girl's mouth picked up. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I've literally never been to this class before. My grade sucks. But I really don't want to retake this shit. Do you think you could help me?"

You stared at her incredulously, mentally calculating the equation of audacity and arrogance it must take to expect a complete stranger to help despite a clear lack of effort.

You opened your mouth slightly to say some variation of hell fucking no, who do you think you are anyways?, maybe you should have considered that before skipping literally every other class meeting when she stuck out her hand. "I'm Ellie, by the way. I'll pay you for helping me." When you hesitated to shake it, she added a "please".

You rolled your eyes, shaking the girl--Ellie's--hand with slightly too much force. "Fine. Whatever. Give me your number." You slid your phone across the table, already open to the contacts app, and watched as she typed.

"You're a lifesaver! Thank you..." she asked, pausing for your name. You gave it. "Thank you."

💗💗💗

Getting back to your dorm and settling into bed for a nap, you briefly texted the number now in your phone as "Ellie" with the last name "Wehavechemistry".

hey

Almost immediately, three dots popped up.

hey there. do you like my contact? lmao

i mean, we do have chemistry together. so like...sure?

no no no. i meant like...we have chemistry. wink wink nudge nudge. and my last name starts with a w so it's funny. do you get it?

...

it's funny.

yeah yeah sure. very funny. hahaha. anyways.

when did you want to come over? i'm free all weekend, and the final's monday. sooooo

oh shit

didn't realize the final was monday

ummmmmmmm how does tomorrow at 8pm work? do you have a roommate or something we need to accommodate for?

no, no roommate. tomorrow at 8pm works fine for me. see you then, ellie.

:)

Turns out, texting with Ellie wasn't all that insufferable. She was friendlier than you expected, and every time you put your phone down to try and fall asleep you found your heart beating too fast at every notification to actually put it down.

Instead, you kept the conversation going until 8pm the next day rolled around, when instead of a text you got three loud raps at the door.

Opening it up, you saw Ellie in the same hoodie as yesterday. This time, her hair was slightly damp and she smelled like...old spice and something pungent and earthy. Did she shower already?

"Hey," you said, suddenly feeling awkward and over dressed in your jean shorts and crop top, hair still done from that afternoon. "You can come in."

Ellie grinned at you as she slid in the door. "We have a semester of schoolwork to cover. Hope you're prepared for a long night," she said.

"Trust me, I am. Did you bring anything?" You asked, looking for a bag as she climbed on to your bed.

"Nope. Not school stuff, anyways." Curious, you tossed your notebook towards her and watched as she pulled a pre-rolled joint and lighter from her hoodie pocket. "I'm assuming you don't smoke since you're like, a nerd, but do you mind if I do?"

You shook your head, dropping your jaw in false offense. "How lame do you think I am? Just because I actually go to class doesn't mean I'm a nerd."

Ellie shot you a disbelieving look, but handed you the joint anyways as you joined her on the bed. "Here, have the first hit. As a thank you for helping me out."

She lit it for you as you inhaled, passing her the weed and opening your notebook. "If this keeps you from retaining information that's not my fault. Just saying."

"Trust me, I'm so alert right now it's crazy. All of tonight is gonna be stuck in my memory for a while."

💗💗💗

The room gradually grew darker, lit only by your adjusting lamp and the last smoldering ashes of the joint as you reached halfway through the notebook.

You breathed heavily through your nose, looking at Ellie seriously. "It's so late. We're not going to finish this tonight."

As she looked up at you, you suddenly noticed how much closer you two had moved over the course of the night. Had your thighs been touching the whole time? Has her breath always been so close it's hitting your cheek? Why did she have to smell so good?

Your own breath caught in your throat as she leaned even closer to you, placing a hand so close to your leg you could feel the fabric of her sweatshirt against her bare thigh. Almost imperceptibly, her gaze flickered down to your chest, now rapidly rising and falling.

"How set do you think I am for this stupid final?" Ellie asked seriously, a rasp in her voice either from smoke or the lowered pitch.

"You picked up on everything really well, so at least the first half I think you'll do fine."

She grabbed your left hand in both of hers, causing your breath to catch again. Her eyes flickered down again, this time lingering longer. Following her gaze, you noticed the top of your bra peeking out.

"Sorry," you said, quickly adjusting your shirt to cover it as heat spread through your body.

"No, no, you're fine. Sorry for looking," she said. You looked at her face, watching as her eyes seemed to trace the shape of your shoulders and the line of your throat.

The air thickened with tension, but you found yourself not wanting Ellie to leave yet. "So, why did you take this class anyways? If you didn't want to go?"

Finally, she met your eyes. "I need a chemistry for my major. Astronomy. I thought I would like this one, but didn't realize it was a fucking 8am when I signed up. By the time I realized I wasn't going to make it up that early it was too late to drop." She shrugged. "What about you? Big chemistry fan?"

You snorted. "Not really, but I also needed a chemistry for my major. I like the 8ams, it lets me have afternoons free to sleep. That's why I don't have a roommate--medical accommodations for fatigue or whatever." She nodded along, genuinely listening.

"Well, hopefully I don't have to retake this class. Next time there probably won't be a pretty girl willing to help me out."

You smiled at her, breathing sharply out of your nose in a laugh. "We'll see what we can do."

A beat of silence washed over you before Ellie pointed towards the pride flag on your wall with her chin. "So...are you..." She began, causing you to laugh full out this time.

"Yeah. Obviously, I'd hope, but if you're feminine people tend to assume otherwise I guess." You smiled and looked at her. "Are you?"

Ellie placed a hand on her chest. "I'm hurt you had to ask. I've been trying to flirt with you since I got your number, babe."

Oh.

"Oh."

She leaned back a little. "I can cut it out, if you want. I couldn't tell if you were into it or not."

Without giving her time to continue doubting, you sprung forward and attached your lips to hers. Threading your fingers in her hair and breathing in as you pulled back.

"So...you are into it?"

"I'm a little dense, Ellie. Don't let the color-coded notes fool you. But yes. Now that I know...I'm into it."

She smiled at you with one side of her mouth again, this time leaning forward to kiss you first. Lips opening slightly, you felt her body around yours as her hands found the bed and pushed you on to your back.

Ellie pushed her tongue gently into your mouth, settling between your legs as they fell open. As you felt her weight between your hips, you groaned a little.

Whining a little as she pulled away, your eyes fluttered shut as Ellie threaded her fingers through the hair by your ear. "Is this supposed to be my payment?" you asked, leaning into her touch.

"Shut up," she said playfully, leaning in to kiss you again. This time it was more forceful, teeth bumping against teeth as your tongues chased each other. Too focused on the overwhelming sensation of Ellie's mouth on your own, you broke the kiss to moan in surprise when you felt her knee push against your core.

Using the opportunity to trail her mouth down your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck, Ellie asked "is this okay, baby?" between kisses. You nodded before remembering she couldn't see you, instead responding with a slightly choked "yes."

In response, her lips attached right behind your ear as her teeth sunk into you and she began to suck. You groaned, bucking your hips against her knee. Kindly, she began to push it back into you, laughing into your neck as you continued whimpering.

"What?" you asked. "Why are you laughing?"

Ellie pulled away from the spot she had been working into your collarbone, meeting your eyes. "You're just so pretty. Can't believe I have you falling apart for me and I've barely touched you."

Your mouth fell open at her words, groaning. Ellie's mouth found yours again, her hands reaching for your tits over your shirt. "Can't blame me for looking at these," she said between kisses, "You look so good in this shirt."

"Take it off, then," you said. You sounded braver than you felt, your stomach doing absolute flips as the girl over you quickly complied to reveal your lacy nude bra.

"I like this," she said softly. "I want it off, though. Is that okay, pretty?" You nodded. The bra was nothing special--just comfy and the right color. If Ellie liked it, though, it was now one of your favorites.

Her mouth moved down your chin and neck to attach to your left nipple, bringing a hand to your opposite hip as she sucked and licked lightly. Your hips continued to buck against her knee, which was now stationary as you essentially rode her thigh.

Chuckling a little, Ellie looked up at you and began unbuttoning your shorts. "Knew you'd be needy. What kind of thoughts are you hiding from me?" she asked, pulling off your bottoms and panties in one go when you lifted your hips to help.

You smiled a little watching her eyes attach themselves to the spot between your legs. "What can I say?" you said. "Maybe I'm a little slutty if the right girl has me under her."

This seemed to light something in Ellie, who watched your face as she brought your face down to your pussy. Close enough to feel her breath, her eyes gleamed as she moved away from your hips chasing her.

"Please," you asked, voice breaking. "Please, Ellie."

"Guess you are a slut, huh? Begging for me already." Whatever response you had was cut off by a screaming moan as her mouth attached itself to you, immediately lapping at your clit before interspersing it with longer licks. Your legs shut around her face as your hands grabbed into her hair, pulling a little as you noticed the groan she made at the pressure.

"That feels so good, Ellie." Her motions sped up at this, and you hurriedly repeated the phrase as she focused more attention on your clit. Feeling everything tighten, you wrapped your ankles around her back as your hips lifted almost completely off the bed. Still attached to you, Ellie fully moaned as you pulled her hair and came over her face.

Whimpering softly as she pulled away, you audibly groaned when she looked up at you and wiped her chin with the back of her hand. "You did so good, baby. Do you have another one in you?"

You quickly nodded, feeling words escape you. All you wanted was for her to say you did good again.

Ellie leaned into you, placing her head into the crook of your neck as her fingers ghosted lightly over your hips, stomach, and thighs. Finally, you felt them dip into the pool of wet that had collected in your cunt. Spreading the mix of saliva, cum, and arousal up to your clit and around your hole, she slowly pushed a slender finger into you. Your back arched off the bed when she began pumping it in and out, chuckling against your neck.

"Such a pretty girl. You're doing so good," she whispered. Your moans grew louder at her words and she pushed another finger in. "Good girl," she breathed, kissing your neck and jaw as she worked into you.

"Ellie," you gasped. "Ellie, please."

"What, baby?"

"Please, Ellie, please. Wanna cum."

You felt her lips quirk up against your collarbone as she added a thumb to your clit and a curl to her fingers. Quicker than you'd ever been able to get there yourself, you felt the tightening of your gut. She swallowed your moans with a sloppy kiss, gently catching your bottom lip between her teeth before soothing it with her tongue. She used her other hand to hold on to your hair at the scalp as you writhed, second orgasm shuddering through your body.

"Good girl," she said as she worked you through it. Sitting up, she wiped her fingers on your thighs before moving up up to let you rest your head on her chest. "You did so good, baby. My smart, pretty, good girl."

You whimpered a little, not prepared to speak just yet. Ellie seemed to understand and didn't push you, holding you and playing with your hair until you leaned back to smile at her.

"That was good. Thank you," you told her, leaning in for a kiss that tasted of your sweat and pussy.

Ellie broke away, moving the hand wrapped around your waist to grab something out of your back pocket. She placed it on your bare chest, tucking it between your tits.

"What do I look like, a prostitute?" you asked. "Much love to them, but..."

Ellie raised her eyebrows. "I mean, you fuck like a professional, but this is for helping me study."

You grabbed the bill and pushed it back into her pocket. "Save it for next time. We need to finish that notebook if you want to actually pass this class."

Ellie kissed the top of your head. "How does tomorrow work?"

A/N this is basically a self insert...my bad. tried to make it as inclusive to different readers as possible. let me know if there's anything I can improve on!! <3

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, Mentions of dub/non con, Power imbalance, SMUT!! Lots of smut. Please let me know if I missed any.

Part 3

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

As you enter your cubicle the morning of the office party there's a package on your desk. It has a note that simply says, "For my good girl." You giggle a bit out of nerves Lloyd is coming on stronger than you like. He definitely has the potential to be a good Sir, and part of you is quite flattered that he's already taking such ownership of you, but you've yet to actually agree to anything.

That was a lesson learned the hard way: talk about your limits before getting into bed. Your last Dom wasn't interested in discussion and you thought that was just his way, that he would at least listen to your color codes and safe-word. If it weren't for the club's owners you don't doubt you would have ended up in the hospital. Still, you've yet to go back for fear of trusting another Sir. At the very least, though, you can tell Lloyd that you need to talk before you accept his gifts, his ownership.

You decide to use the gift as an excuse to visit him in his office, later in the day. Leaving your desk for your break time, you walk to Lloyd's office and knock on the door.

"Enter," he barks. His angry look melts away a little when he sees you. "Maestro! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

You close the door behind you before taking a seat across from him and setting his gift on the desk. He frowns. "I just...I need to make sure...I'm sure you're a good Dom, a good Sir, but I need..."

His eyes soften, "limits and boundaries. Even before you get a taste of the goods?"

You nod, "last time I did that I got hurt." Lloyd's jaw tightens at that. "So I promised myself I would never do that again. I need to talk about limits and I need to know you'll respect them. Given that you haven't been putting my job at risk since I talked to you, I think I can trust you on that front. But I'm not accepting a gift from you until we talk."

"Absolutely," Lloyd agrees, his attitude is all business. He pulls out some paper and a couple of pens. "Let's go ahead and write down things as we talk, okay?"

"Thank you, Sir."

You return to your desk feeling much lighter, maybe even giddy. It's been so long since you've had your needs met. And you're sure Lloyd's going to satisfy. He was asking all the right questions, giving all the right reassurances. He treated your needs and concerns with all the seriousness you weren't sure he was capable of.

Letting yourself get back into the swing of things at work, you almost forget about the gift Lloyd got you: an angel costume. Nothing fancy, but definitely cute with just the right amount of naughtiness. You're to put it on before visiting him in his office after the party starts.

A few minutes after the party starts, you sneak your way to the floor of Lloyd's office. Finding a bathroom nearby, you use that to switch into the angel costume. You feel so giddy and hopeful as you look at yourself in the mirror. You don't know how he guessed your size so accurately, but the skimpy costume fits quite well.

Peeking out the door to make sure there's no one who will see you, you quickly skitter to Lloyd's office and knock on the door.

"Enter," he barks. You do so, making sure to close and lock the door behind you. You turn towards him and await his command. Because you're keeping your head down, you don't see Lloyd licking his lips at how good you look. "Come here," he orders and you're quickly at his side, kneeling in obedience to his hand gesture. He cups your face with his large hand, making you look up at him. "Put your work clothes under your knees," he purrs. "I don't want you to hurt yourself on this god awful floor."

"Thank you, Sir," you chirp as you obey.

When you're settled at his feet, Lloyd starts caressing your cheek and you lean into his touch. "You're absolutely gorgeous," he comments. "I can't wait to ruin you in all the best ways." He smiles at your whimper. "I wonder how responsive you'll be when I'm teasing that pussy of yours with my fingers. I'll bet you've never been fucked by such a large hand, have you?"

"No, Sir," you breathe, desire quickly building in your core.

"I wonder how many of these fingers that hole of yours can take," he ponders. "Maybe a good girl like you just needs one or two." He grips your chin, "or are you a little slut who can take my whole hand?" You let out a bit of a strangled mewl as your pussy clenches around nothing, imagining those hands on you. He moves his thumb to your lips and you automatically open your mouth, making him chuckle. "Not yet, Maestro. First, let's give your hands a test run. Unbutton me."

Wasting no time your hands work to undo Lloyd's belt so you could get to the button of his pants. The outline of his erection has you biting your lower lip. You want to unzip him, to gag on his cock, but you were only ordered to unbutton him so that's all you do.

Lloyd caresses your cheek again, "do you see something you like, Maestro?"

"Yes, Sir," you whine.

"Tell me what you're thinking," he orders.

"I want to choke on your cock, Sir," you confess, a little bashful.

Lloyd moans and you see a twitch beneath his pants. "Take my dick out and give it a kiss." You're quick to obey, your breath hitching at the size of him, before kissing the tip. "Good girl," he coos. "Now choke yourself on my cock. And yes, you can use your tits as well."

Lowering the shirt of the angel costume, you let your breasts out and use them to sandwich his cock while you set to work on the tip of his dick. You build up speed as you take more and more of him in your mouth, rewarded by his moans as he pats your head. You feel your saliva dripping onto your breasts and use it to massage his length even more. You're occasionally choking on him as you repeatedly take him to the back of your throat.

"Look at me," Lloyd growls, and your eyes immediately turn to him. "Fuck, that's it, that's a good girl," he praises. "Haven't had a proper suck in so long. Wonder if I should cum down that slutty throat of yours or all across those gorgeous tits. Maybe even all over that pretty face." You whimper, trying not to get distracted by your needy pussy. "You like that? You want me to cum all over your face? Mark you with my cum?" Lloyd smiles at your needy whine.

He grabs your hair, stilling you, "hands on my legs, Maestro. Remember, three taps to get me to stop." You give a little nod and place your hands accordingly before he starts roughly pushing you down on his dick. You're repeatedly gagging, gasping for air as you struggle to breath through your nose, but your pussy is dripping wet from the rough treatment and the noises of pleasure coming from Lloyd. "Shit, your mouth feels so good," he moans. "Taking me like the good slut you are. Fuck! I'm gonna cum all over your body. Gonna claim every singe inch of your body as mine."

Without warning he almost throws you back and you gasp for air. "Press those tits together and keep that gorgeous mouth open," he orders. You do so and your vision clears enough that you see Lloyd jerking himself off, making you open your mouth wider. "Fuck, Maestro. Such a good girl for me, making me cum so fast and so. Fucking. Hard." His cum splatters all over your chest, some of it getting onto your face.

He catches his breath but you don't move, just staying in the position you were ordered to, despite how needy your pussy was feeling.

He pets the top of your head again, "you were such a good girl for me. Did really good for our first time together. I think you deserve a reward." You whimper at that and he chuckles. "Stand up," he orders, and you do so. He grabs your clothes and lays them down on his desk, "lay down on your back."

It takes you a little help from him because of how big his desk is, but soon you're laying on your clothes, legs spread, silently begging Lloyd to fill your pussy. He places his palm over your mound and uses one of his fingers to play with your hole making you quietly whine.

"You're a good slut for me," he teases. "So damn wet I could probably slide my cock right in." He quickly pushes one of his fingers into you, up to the knuckle and arch your back, desperate for more. Lloyd leans over you, putting his arms on each side of you, "we don't want to get caught, so I'm going to need you to keep quiet. Understand?"

"Yes, Sir," you nod fervently.

"If you want something to bite down on, let me know."

"Thank you, Sir."

Lloyd moves one of his arms down your front and resumes teasing you as he kisses down to your breasts, licking some of his own cum off of you. He uses his tongue on one of your nipples, alternating between licking and sucking. His hand roughly shoves two fingers inside your cunt and you arch back, eyes rolling in pleasure as scissors them in and out of you at a harsh pace.

"Sir, Sir, please, Sir, thank you, Sir, please, Sir, Sir---" you clamp your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet as you cum, clenching around Lloyd's large fingers. He continues finger fucking you until you've come down a little.

"Good girl," he purrs. "Keeping quiet like I told you to. Did you enjoy my fingers?"

"Yes, Sir," your voice is raspy.

"You look so pretty when you cum," he grins. He lowers himself so his face is between your legs. "Let's see how many more I can get out of you."

Part 3

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory;

@late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82; @ozwriterchick; @ronearoundblindly; @lokislady82

[formosusiniquis]

my @steddiesummerexchange gift fic for @oh-stars! I was so excited to work on this prompt: penpals through childhood until they both graduate -- road trip to meet one another in person. Epistolary fics are always a favorite of mine. oh-stars is such a brilliant writer and bright spot in the fandom, I was excited to be able to write a little something for her, I hope you like it!

October 13, 1976 Dear Eddie,

Mrs. Simpson says I’m supposed to thank you for volunteering to be my partner even though you’re a fifth grader. I don’t know why I should though since now I actually have to do this stupid pen pal project. I know she only paired me with an older kid cause she thinks I’m dumb. But thanks for the extra work I guess.

She said she wasn’t gonna read these before she sent them off, just that she was gonna make sure they were a page front and back like they were supposed to be. But I don’t really believe her. So I guess I should actually write this right.

Hi Eddie. My name is Steve Harrington. I’m 10 years old because I got put in Kindergarten late cause my parents were too busy in wherever my dad does his business stuff and my au pair -- that’s fancy for babysitter who lives in your house -- couldn’t do it. My birthday is in September, almost at the end (the 27th), so I guess that’s why it was okay. When’s your birthday (Mrs. Simpson says a friendly letter is supposed to ask questions.)

My favorite things are yellow and sports. I’m the best at red rover and kickball, Tommy says it's cause I’m the oldest and biggest in our class but he’s a sore loser and couldn’t even break through the girl side of the red rover line. Do you play games? Mrs. Simpson talks about your Hawkins like it’s on a different planet but you’re just in Kentucky. It’s right across the river. I’ve been there a couple times when Dad likes me and we’ll go watch Louisville play basketball. Basketball is my favorite sport but the only outside court is at the park and the big teenagers are always on it.

When you write back you can tell me what sports and games you like. Does your Dad ever bring you to Indiana to watch stuff? The Pacers only played okay last season and they lost to Kentucky in the playoffs. Is that who you root for?

Oh and I’m supposed to ask you about school since this is like homework. I kinda already did that at the beginning, remember. Do you like English or something? Is that why you asked for extra work? Or was your pen pal last year just a super dud?

That’s front and back now.

Sincerely (cause we aren’t friends), Steve Harrington

October 25, 1976 Dear Steve,

First of all I didn’t ask to have to write a letter to some fourth grader. I was told because I’m the only kid who didn’t do it last year that I had to be your partner. I do like English but extra work isn’t fun for anybody. I’ve never had a pen pal before so you’re the best and the worst one I’ve ever had. Are teachers allowed to call people dumb at your school? Mine just look at me like a really weird bug on the road or something.

Your teacher sounds like a real pain in the side, that’s what my Uncle Wayne would say. I think it’s cause he’s pretending he doesn’t know the word bitch. She talks about this Hawkins like it’s on another planet because it’s in the Appalachian Mountains and people think everyone here is stupid and marries their cousins.

Some of them are stupid but they would be like that anywhere it’s not because they live out here.

I’m actually from Lexington though so it isn’t even my Hawkins, but my Uncle Wayne lives here and he has to watch me for a little while.

You didn’t really ask me anything good about myself. I’m Eddie Munson, I’m going to be 11 when it’s my birthday this year (Halloween the coolest birthday cause everyone gives you candy). Red and black are my favorite colors. I don’t like any sports at all, they’re all stupid but everyone knows about basketball here, it's more important than church. Everywhere has games but when you get to fifth grade you learn which ones are for babies.

I like imagination games the best cause then I don’t have to worry about anyone else playing with me. There’s lots of woods here so I can go in them and hunt monsters or dragons or be an elf like in my favorite books.

Wayne’s looking over my shoulder and says I’m supposed to ask you a question. So what’s your favorite book? Do you like fantasy, that’s my favorite but the science fiction stuff with aliens is cool too.

I know you asked about my dad but since I live with Wayne I’m gonna use him instead. He hasn’t ever taken me to Indiana cause “his truck weren’t meant to leave these hills” whatever that means. He said he roots for The Colonels but he wishes your Pacers luck this season. What’s a Pacer anyway?

Do I have to ask you about school too? I don’t think this is homework for me more like extra credit. If you don’t like English what do you like? Don’t say recess or lunch those are cheating answers.

Not your friend either, Eddie Munson

Continue on AO3

[traumxrei-archive]

【 epilogue : winter’s aftermath 】

summary tags: the end of winter break (+ this series), pov: everyone’s reactions to leonayuu being leonayuu, ruggie is having a great time, jack doesn’t get it, crowley's sobbing, grim expects more fancy tuna, and cheka’s just a sweetheart <33

word count: 3.6k

author’s note: here’s the epilogue ^^ i hope that you enjoy the last fluffy bits of this series, and happy birthday to leona kingscholar <33

[ baby it’s cold outside series | read on ao3 ]

i. ruggie and jack

The days that preluded the end of winter break was filled with hustle and bustle. Many of NRC’s students were frantically packing last minute, and saying heartfelt goodbyes to their families as the new semester approached.

Ruggie, for one, was trying to figure out how he was going to lug all of his luggage back to Savanaclaw. His Bibi meant well, but she could be a bit of a worrywart. What started out as a few herbal medicine ingredients soon turned into many, and she insisted that he should share with his friends if they ever needed it.

“I doubt that they’d drink any of that stuff I give them, Bibi,” Ruggie said, casting a levitation spell over his luggage and stringing it down main street.

“Ruggie-senpai!” Jack called out. He was decked out in full winter gear, a messily knitted scarf wrapped around his neck. Ruggie snorted, waiting for his junior to catch up.

“You just got back?” Ruggie asked, tugging at the end of Jack’s scarf. “And what’s this?”

“Oh, uh,” Jack’s ears twitched, clearly embarrassed. “My sister made it for me. It’s actually pretty warm. Have you gone to visit Leona-senpai yet?”

“Nope,” He popped the ‘p’, shedding his jacket as they entered the Savanaclaw mirror. “I am not looking forward to how messy his room is gonna be.”

Jack unwrapped his scarf, gently placing it in his bag, “Yuu told me that they were doing Leona a favor or something, so maybe it’ll be okay.”

Ruggie blinked. Yuu and Leona spending winter together…? Well if that didn’t sound like a recipe for disaster, then he didn’t know what would. He quickly dumped his bags in his room, taking the quickest route to Leona’s room.

“Are you worried?” Jack asked, having followed behind him.

“About Yuu-kun more than anything,” Ruggie muttered as he reached for the door. “You know how Leona-san can be sometimes.”

The door creaked open, and the two were greeted with…Leona sitting on the couch while Yuu was mid-stride seemingly pacing around the room.

“Oh, hi,” Yuu greeted. Their posture betrayed their awkwardness more than anything that was actually was going on.

“Hi Yuu,” Jack said, leaning against the doorway. “What are you doing here so early?”

“I, uh,” They glanced down at Leona, who raised an eyebrow in challenge. “Leona tried to cheat his way out of doing one of the worksheets so I came back to scold him.” And that was when Ruggie noticed something off.

He glanced around the room. It was…neat. Neater than he had seen it for ages. Heck, even the bed was nicely made. And in the corner he spotted what looked like Yuu’s bag sitting right in front of Leona’s closet. Not to mention…

“C’mon, herbivore,” Leona drawled, spinning the pen in his hand. “Don’t worry your pretty little head over a single worksheet.” Leona didn’t look the slightest bit annoyed at being up early with a worksheet right in front of him. Instead, he was just focused on them, barely looking over at him or Jack.

“Leona-senpai, Yuu’s heating and cooling depends on this,” Jack said, and Ruggie could see the twitch of Leona’s brow clear as day. Uh oh. “Cut them some slack.”

Something had changed. Ruggie could hazard a guess, but he did not want to stick around and face the wrath of Leona’s anger this early in the morning.

“Listen here, pup,” Leona said, irritation in his tone. “Winter break ends in two days. I’ll get it done by then.” Jack, on the other hand, seemed confused at the sudden hostility.

That was when Yuu stepped in, "You said you'd finish early so we could go to the botanical garden." Miraculously, Leona leaned back, throwing an arm over his eyes.

"Everything's too loud today," The gripe was halfhearted, and Ruggie's jaw could've dislocated from how low it was dropping. The Leona Kingscholar...calming down just like that?

Yuu carefully sat down beside him, "Then why don't we go to Ramshackle, your Highness?"

"Don't call me that," Leona huffed, though Ruggie didn't miss the way his tail instantly wrapped around their leg.

"You said you liked it," They teased, before turning to them again. "How was you guys' winter breaks?”

Leona seemed to frown as they started conversing with Jack. And Ruggie..well, he prided himself on being able to read the room, so he very promptly turned around, shoving Jack out of the room.

"Wh– Ruggie-senpai–"

"Ah, sorry, Yuu-kun!" Ruggie called out. "I forgot I have something to do with Jack-kun, talk to you next time!” Jack didn’t know just how close he was to getting sent to do lap.

And Ruggie couldn’t bite back the grin on his face either. Now he had a cheat card to dealing with Leona’s bullshit. He made a mental note to give Yuu some of the herbal medicine that his Bibi gave him, because Seven knows that they would need it.

ii. crowley

Crowley was having quite the headache of a day. It came with running the school single-handedly, he supposed, and he almost mourned the loss of sandy beaches and the cold drinks that he had savored just the day before.

Alas the show must go on. He was the illustrious headmage of NRC after all!

And he was on a mission to find his favorite student. He wasn’t supposed to play favorites, but he found himself particularly endeared to the Ramshackle Prefect, Yuu. They were a good kid, better than the other troublemakers at the college.

So he often found ways to give them things, such as the phone that he conveniently gave them before winter break. (For communication purposes only. Definitely not because he was worried or anything.) Or the task he gave them before winter started. (He knew how dreary Ramshackle got, so the school’s heath would give them the warmth they needed.)

“Ah, there you are!” He exclaimed, finally finding Yuu amongst the shelves at Sam’s Store. “I was looking everywhere for you, Prefect!”

Yuu was dressed well for the cold weather, and he could see they were wearing the gifts that the other staff members gave them, “Headmage. How was your vacation?”

“Oh, it was wonderful, the beaches were— wait that’s not what I’m here for!” Crowley coughed into his hand, a bit flustered. They were the only student out here that was polite enough to ask him such questions. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the completion of your tasks! The fairies were buzzing about your timeliness.”

“Oh, uhm,” They awkwardly shuffled around the snacks in their arms. They always got like that when he complimented them a bit too eagerly. “Thanks I guess. And our heating and cooling?”

“Oh,” Crowley blinked, remembering the empty words he spouted before winter break. He didn’t think they would really take it to heart. “The fairies are more than happy to help out to make Ramshackle more hospitable, so I shall send them over soon. And you’ve outdone yourself with your other task, so don’t hesitate to ask for something else.”

“Hey, hey! Little imp and Crowley!” Sam greeted, ever the jovial. “What an interesting combo! Crowley, did you finally get them your gift?”

“Gift?” They asked, staring with what Crowley would say was just a little bit of hope. Argh. His conscience was hurt.

“I should have given this to you before winter but,” Crowley laughed nervously. “I was just…so busy with the mirror business—“

“Crowley was wailing to us in the teacher’s chat about how ‘his child would freeze without his gift’ and what not,” Sam said conspiratorially.

“I-I was not!” Crowley sputtered, finally pulling out the small gift. “There. Please use it well.”

Yuu opened the small box, a smile spliting on their face, “Are these…socks?” They were, indeed, socks. Not just any socks, the best thermal socks on the market. With the NRC logo on it. But they didn’t need to know that part.

“Yes, well, a good pair of socks goes a long way!”

Yuu laughed, “You’re right. Thank you, Headmage.”

“I-It was the least I could do. And Sam, I was simply congratulating Yuu-kun on a job well done,” Crowley tapped his cane on the ground, trying not to be too proud that Yuu liked his gift. “They managed to get Kingscholar-kun to finish all his worksheets for this winter break.”

Sam blinked, “That’s a magnificent feat! What kinda black magic did ya use on Kingscholar?”

“Yeah, herbivore, what kind of magic did you use to persuade me to do schoolwork?” The group immediately startled, watching as Leona leisurely walked over, slinging an arm over their shoulder.

Yuu seemed to fluster, “I…we just exchanged favors. That’s all.”

“Hmm,” Sam hummed, a grin on his face. “My friend from the other side is telling me something interesting happened over the break.”

Crowley narrowed his eyes as Leona smirked, “W-Wait a minute! Kingscholar-kun! What did you do to the Prefect?” Nothing good could come out of Leona Kingscholar looking so…so triumphant!

“I didn’t do anything,” Leona said coyly. “If anything it was Yuu who suddenly—“

“Okay, enough,” Yuu interrupted, tugging Leona out of the store. And the weird thing was Leona easily followed. “Me and Leona have something to discuss. See you two later!”

As they hurried away, it finally dawned on Crowley.

He pointed a half crooked finger toward the exit, “Are they…dating?”

“Seems so to me,” Sam snickered. “I think they make a cute couple.”

No…Crowley couldn’t accept it. There’s no way his beloved child was dating Leona Kingscholar. There was no one in NRC that Crowley could wholeheartedly approve of dating Yuu. Especially not Leona. Not on his watch.

“That— Kingscholar!”

iii. grim

Grim wasn't stupid. He wasn't into complicated stuff like classes, but he sure noticed the new development that had happened over winter break.

Leona Kingscholar, the scary– ahem, lazy beastman from Savanaclaw...was always with his henchman nowadays. When they had alchemy homework, he was always there in a labcoat next to them. When they studied in the library, he was dozing beside them. And especially during meal times like this! He helped himself to the food that they cooked. And the worst part was the fact that the henchman didn’t seem to mind.

It was to the point that it was worrying, because his henchman was his! Their one and only boss was him, Grim the Great, after all!

But it seemed that Leona was trying to steal his henchman away from him.

Grim narrowed his eyes as the henchman left to grab some water, "Hey. Why are you trying to steal my henchman from me?"

"Hah?" Leona glanced at him before takong another bite out of his lamb chops. "Who's stealing from who?"

"I mean!" Grim stood up on his chair. "You're always around them these days, yanno!"

Leona scoffed, but he seemed to consider his words before finally speaking, "How 'bout a truce, furball? They stay your henchman and they're my herbivore. Deal?"

Well. First of all, Grim wanted to take offense at being called furball. It was clearly an insult to his (very cute) and intimidating fire ears.

But that...

"Hmph. Fine," Grim pointed his paw toward Leona's plate. "But I want one of those!"

Leona grinned, tossing a lamb chop onto Grim's plate, "Pleasure doing business with you."

As Grim chewed on the lamb chop, the henchman returned, two glasses of water in their hands, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothin'" 

"Nothing."

The beastman and monster stared at each other for a moment before going back to their food. Grim kept an eye on Leona, who was being more touchy than usual. He kept poking the henchman and the henchman looked...

That was when Grim remembered Ace being all gross and talking about his past dating escapades. And that was when it clicked.

"Henchman," Grim glanced between the two with hesitation. "Are you two...dating?"

Yuu choked on their bread, and Leona wordlessly handed them his water.

"Yeah," Leona stated, rubbing their back lightly. "Why?"

"Nothin'! It's just," Blue eyes scanned Yuu, before thinking back to the many people at NRC who definitely expressed interest in them. "Henchman, I think ya could've done better, yanno?"

Leona's eyes narrowed, "You little–"

And that was how Grim spent some time running away from the beastman who chased him around Ramshackle. Meanwhile the ghosts were congratulating a still-shellshocked Yuu, so Grim's yells for help went unanswered. At least he got a lamb chop out of the whole ordeal.

iv. leona 

It was official. Maybe Leona was finally starting understanding where Falena was coming from when he gushed over his queen. Leona himself could barely keep himself from thinking about Yuu once every few minutes.

It would be embarrassing to admit just how many times he had been distracted enough that his gaze kept drifting toward Yuu.

Yuu who was comfortably nestled against him, scrolling on their phone. He wrapped an arm around their waist, nuzzling into the plane of their back.

"What's this about?" They asked, their hand patting his own.

"Nothing," He said, his voice muffled as he felt their heat seeping into his fingers.

His thoughts couldn't help but drift back to their conversation that fateful day.

And until that moment Leona had never realized how similar they were. Their words were a mirror of his own, down to the talk of the word ‘deserve’.

He spent his life being a slave to that word. 'I deserve to be king.' 'I deserve to be the dormleader.' 'I deserve to win in the magift tournament.’

All the thoughts of 'deserve' in his life never led anywhere useful. Did he ever want to be king, or was it just the words of others around him that filled him with such hatred for his own existence that the throne was the only thing that he thought would fix it?

If he truly wanted something he should fight for it. And if he lost, and still wanted it, then he would try again. That was what he understood now. And that was what lead him to Yuu.

It still wasn't fully resolved. Leona still had his doubts on whether he could truly care for them properly. And he sure as hell hadn't figured out just what got Yuu to have such a warped perception of him. But… 

His arms tightened around them. It was something that they could figure out at a later date. For now, he would settle for the way their heart rate seemed to spike as he softly stroked their stomach.

He pressed a kiss against their shoulder, “Why’s your heart rate going up?”

“Ugh,” They sighed. “I hate that you can hear that.”

“Why’s that herbivore?” Leona’s hand drifted, until he could swipe the hair away from their nape. He learned that they were especially reactive when he kissed their neck. He pressed his lips against their skin, smirking as he heard their heart rate speed up, “Kinda cute that you do that.”

Yuu shifted until they were facing him, a frown on their face, “If you want to kiss me, you should just ask Leona.”

“You were busy,” He murmured, though he didn’t hesitate to close the gap of space between them.

“If you asked me to, I would’ve put down my phone earlier,” They said, their breaths sounding a bit short as Leona’s nose brushed against theirs.

“You’re so in love with me, aren’t you?” Leona drawled, suppressing a laugh at their expression.

Instead of saying anything, they leaned forward and pecked his lips. Something must’ve shown on his face, because they grinned, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

And then Leona couldn’t hold it any longer. He leaned in, their arms readily wrapping around him as they kissed. Leona couldn’t hide his impatience as he licked into their mouth, the startled noise they made turning his rationality into mush. He never thought he would ever have such greed for another person before. But this… Their hand that was buried in his hair tightened and he tilted his head further, their noses brushing when—

BRIIING—!

Leona flinched back at the obnoxious ringtone. He could see Yuu trying to catch their breath, blinking a few times to gather their bearings. Did he really have to answer the phone?

“Answer it,” They said gently. He pecked their cheek before pulling back. He found his phone on the table, the name flashing on the screen making him roll his eyes.

Meddlesome Falena

He looked over his shoulder, “It’s Cheka. Are you ready yet?” They raked their hand through their hair, the strands falling messily around their face as they gave him a thumbs up. Dammit…they were unfairly pretty at times.

And as Leona internally cursed, he pressed the 'answer call’ button.

v. cheka (+ family)

“Hello? Hello! Papa, I can’t see Ojitan, I can only see black!” The cheerful voice that rang out made Yuu chuckle slightly.

Leona seemed to hesitate before opening the camera, “That’s because I haven’t opened my camera yet, brat.”

“OJITAN!” The squeal that Cheka let out was quite frankly earshattering. They winced before moving into frame. “Oh! Huh? Yuu-tan! Yuu-tan’s here too!”

They answered Cheka’s enthusiastic waves with a greeting of their own, “Good to see you too, little lion.”

“How come Yuu-tan is here already?” Cheka wasn’t the best camera man. They were getting a very interesting angle of Cheka’s chin and shoulder. 

“Uh…” Yuu trailed off, glancing at Leona.

“Who cares?” Leona grumbled. “Why did you call?”

But Cheka didn’t seem interested in knowing anymore, “Papa! Look, Yuu-tan’s here too.” Yuu immediately straightened their posture, while Leona took this time to yawn.

“Alright, alright,” They could see the camera shake before light flooded the screen. Falena was now proping the camera up, a colorful tapestry behind him as he held Cheka in his lap. “Hello brother. And Yuu-san too! This is perfect, hold on a second—“

“Papa’s calling Mama over,” Cheka helpfully added as Falena turned to talk to someone off camera. “Mama was very interested in what we did.”

“Tch,” Leona said, looking like he swallowed a particularly bitter medicine. Maybe he didn’t have the best relationship with his sister…?

“Do you not like the queen?” Yuu asked quietly.

“No,” Leona answered, albeit a bit reluctantly. "If she went asking that means that she already figured it out.”

“Figured what out?”

Leona leaned against their shoulder, “Wait and see.”

They gulped as another figure entered the camera’s view. An intimidating beastwoman traditional garb swathing her in colorful fabrics. She was a lioness beastman, they noted, matching Falena almost perfectly in her regal appearance. For a moment there was silence across the line.

And then a smile cracked on her face, “So. Who was the one who confessed first?” What? Falena seemed to echo their sentiment, his expression shifting from confused to realization to shock.

While Yuu was still in shock, Leona volunteered a hand, “I did.”

They sputtered, “You— You proposed at first.”

“Hmm… You were braver than Falena, then,” She tilted a head toward her husband. “It took him a whole three years to actually propose.”

“Oh gods above,” Falena muttered, still out of his mind. “Leona’s engaged? He…my baby brother…” It seemed that it didn’t take much for Falena to be shocked.

“We’re dating. Da-ting,” Leona emphasized each syllable like he was talking to a child. “The proposal was a gimmick.”

Now Yuu snorted, “You seemed to be seriously considering it before.”

“Yay!” The loud shout disturbed the calm atmosphere. It was clear that they had all forgotten that Cheka was in attendance. He swung his arms around, pumping his tiny fists in the air, “Yuu-tan and Ojitan are getting married!”

“Uh…Cheka,” Falena said tentatively. “That’s not—“

“Well before that, they would need to visit the Savanna, right, m’toto?” The queen seemed to be seriously thinking about it. Wasn’t it…a bit fast? “I for one, would like to get to know you first.”

Cheka seemed to agree, nodding furiously, “I’m gonna take Yuu-tan to all my favorite spots!” 

“Wait, we’re not actually engaged,” Yuu laughed nervously. This development was not what they were anticipating. How were they supposed to know that the Queen would be this interested in Leona’s partner?

But Leona didn’t seem phased, “I’ll bring them the next time we have vacation.”

“Leona??” They glanced at their boyfriend before looking at the screen. “Why are you going along with this?”

“Cuz,” Leona grinned at them mischievously. “We can’t have you running away from me, can we?”

“Yup!” Cheka chimed in. “Yuu-tan’s family now!”

Yuu had a feeling that they didn’t quite understand what they were getting into when they dated Leona. And now they were suffering the consequences. But well…

A vacation in Sunset Savanna didn’t sound bad. Plus they would be sponsored by the Royal Family, and they could bring Grim along. And Leona would be there.

It was a fitting end, perhaps. They started this vacation wondering about families, having not remembered their own. And it seemed now that winter was over, they were heading into spring with a brand new family.

Their friends. Crowley and the teachers. And now Leona and Cheka.

Maybe this family they had gathered wasn’t such a bad thing afterall. Yuu squeezed at Leona's hand lightly. And Leona nudged them with his elbow in return, giving them a smirk.

It was a fitting end indeed.

and…that’s a wrap !! congratulations for getting to the end of the baby it’s cold outside series !!

it’s kind of a bittersweet thing when things end, but i decided to look at it in a positive way, because finally leonayuu's story is out there for everyone to enjoy ^^

(plus, i guess now everyone can look forward to the other leonayuu brainrot fics i’ve written >:D)

thank you for reading until this far, and i hope that you’ve enjoyed your journey :> if you’d like to read more of my writing, please check out my masterlist <3

[ prev chapter | series post ]

[theaceace]

While Dream was hanging out in the fishbowl, a few dreams and nightmares that (like the rest of the Dreaming) think Hob would be the best thing to happen to Dream in a long time and also that Dream has abandoned them all, go and start bothering Hob in the waking world

But because they're dreams and nightmares, it kind of manifests as (usually awful) hallucinations. Specifically of Dream, a lot of the time (look they're trying to get their lord's attention by needling his human, yes it's stupid, no they don't have any better ideas)

And Hob, with the same attitude that's carried him through 600-odd years is like 'well I guess immortal life is already so goddamn weird this might as well happen' and just rolls with the fact that he is having hallucinations now. Learns some coping mechanisms, gets really good at not reacting to them even when horrible terrible things are happening

So when Dream finally does get back and goes to see Hob, he's just like oh cool I'm seeing things again, thought I got over that like ten years ago, ah well got a lecture to finish, better get on with it and barely even glances at Dream

Dream, of course, reacts to this like 🥺 like the sad wet cat he is, but also maybe this is a bad time. His friend is shaping young minds, he's very important and busy, Dream can come back later

So he pops back into Hob's life that evening when most people are, if not asleep, then at least at home. Hob's in the New Inn (of course) but it's quiet enough that Dream thinks maybe Hob will talk to him this time

Absolutely nothing. Like sitting across from a brick wall (and because Dream tends not to be noticed if he wants, and he very much doesn't want to be perceived while he begs forgiveness from a mortal, people's eyes just kind of skim over him, which isn't helping with Hob's assumption that he's a figment of Hob's imagination)

Dream is feeling very, very cold. None of the gentle things he's been saying to Hob have got anymore reaction than his hand tightening slightly around his marking pen (Hob is waiting for something horrible to happen, as it so often used to when he imagined his stranger, and is getting more and more tense the longer it doesn't)

Eventually they're the only ones left, even the bar staff have gone home because it's Hob's pub and he has a set of keys. So finally, FINALLY Hob looks up and is like 'oh, you're still here. We're still doing this, then' flatly

Dream: I thought I might - (he was going to say apologise) Hob: yes alright get on with it, the sooner you start the sooner you can piss off again (thinking this is a vision here to torment him) Dream: ...very well. I understand, and you need not worry, I shall not trouble you further. Only, let me ask, one final time: do you still wish to live? Hob: (well it's never gone down like this before, at least I'm getting some variety in my waking nightmares) what sort of bloody stupid question is that, obviously yes! Dream: I am. Pleased to hear that. Goodbye, Robert Gadling

So off he goes, leaving a bottle of wine that he pinched out of someone's dreams on the table. Hob scoffs, rolls his eyes and goes to bed

And panics the next day when one of the bar staff asks where the super fancy wine came from, and also who his friend was last night, didn't get a good look at him, but I don't think I've seen him before?

There Hob is. Screaming internally, because he's only gone and fucked it all up and now he's NEVER going to see his friend again

(obviously he does, probably because one of the nightmares finally confesses what they did to Lucienne, who tells Matthew, who speaks both fluent Dumb Human and Dramatic Fucker Dreamlord and manages to get the two of them in the same room long enough to talk it out)

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

can you do hcs of dating grayson hawthorne?

grayson hawthorne x fem! reader

hcs about meeting & dating the heir apparent of the hawthorne family.

a/n: ofc!! thx sm for the request & sorry for the wait!! i just got a new one also requesting grayson so this one goes out to you too anon!! grayson hawthorne is one of the lomls🫶 i am so indecisive between him & jameson fr (but for avery i think jameson is better suited for her). hope u enjoy!! i'm a sucker for the poor x rich trope sorry & i love tobias lowkey playing match maker in these LOL & this follows some of the main story but then kinda trails off

word count: 6.8k

warnings: almost drowning (LOL), minor mature language, few spoliers for final gambit i guess?,

before you were dating the second oldest hawthorne, you were just a girl working part-time at a diner as a waitress, trying to make enough money to buy a car. you were relentlessly getting picked up/dropped off everywhere by either one of your parent's vehicles.

being a waitress wasn't ideal when dealing with rude customers, pretentious managers, and occasional annoying co-workers, but you had decent pay, and tips weren't too bad.

most of the time you were running the show on your own. serving tables, acting as hostess, dealing with unsatisfied customers, etc. it wasn’t even the lack of staff, it was lazy behaviors of your co-workers and manager - who got the job because her dad owns the business.

one peculiar afternoon you were doing your usual job of serving tables and taking orders when an older gentleman walked in, way classier than your usual customers. you seated him, gave him a menu, and then returned to the kitchen to serve your other tables.

the diner staff seemed to be murmuring words and glancing back at the man, but you didn't pay any mind to it. it wasn't unusual for you to catch staff gossiping about customers.

going back to the table, you gave him the complimentary water and then asked for his beverage of choice - he chose a simple black coffee. you went to the kitchen and returned with his drink. you were on the verge of asking for his meal order, but he looked preoccupied with a crossword puzzle.

you peaked over, and noticed he looked possibly stuck, so you offered your help because you often did crosswords when you were bored. "do you mind if i take a look?"

he said nothing, only gesturing his head toward his little crossword booklet and pen beside it. even his pen looked fancy.

you looked over the one he was one, and after reading the hint and the number of boxes for the word, you could figure it out.

"tatersall."

the old man peered at you as if you spoke a different language.

"it's fabric with checks and lines, the phrase is a bit old-fashioned. i only know it 'cause that's what my dad refers to his shirts as." you explained.

he looked intrigued by your words, as if you'd given him an idea. he thanked you, then went on to fill out the boxes.

words were said much after that. he drank his coffee and left sometime while you were busy serving other tables. when you returned to ask him if he wanted anything else, he was already gone. but not before leaving $200 dollar tip next to his finished coffee.

you thoroughly checked if it was real, not believing anyone would purposely leave such a tip for a cup of black coffee. but in fact, it was very real. and you even bought yourself a very cute dress to commemorate. just to double check it was legit, of course.

the older man with silver-blue eyes continued to come into the diner every few days, never ordering anything other than a black coffee and always being generous with the tip.

you two had polite conversations and odd ones rooted questions he dropped on you. you noticed a lot of them pertained to money and contributions. but you never passed on answering.

they were questions like "what jobs have you worked?", "what are your parents' occupations?", "are you interested in charities and donations?", and "what do you do with the money you earn?"

thru these visits, he finally gave you his name, tobias. it shouldn't had surprised you he had a unique name to match his unique personality.

you didn't get much information about tobias. all he revealed to you was he enjoyed games, was obviously wealthy, and has 2 daughters, one son, and 4 grandsons - who weren't too off from your age.

he liked to talk about a certain one, the second oldest, grayson. you created an image he was a closed-off, goal-driven, cunning, and loyal guy. you didn’t wanna jump to conclusions, but one could say he was slyly trying to set you up with him.

it wasn’t uncommon for grandparents to come in the diner and rave about their grandsons. at times they would even show you a multitude of photos saying how handsome they are and well-raised gentlemen who would be a great match for you.

you never had the heart to straight up tell them ‘not interested’, so you listened to their praises and then fabricated a lie as to why you were unable to date their grandson.

if tobias ever were to ever try and do that you would use the same methods. you were sure his grandson was an acceptable man, but you had no interest in going on a blind date with anytime soon.

however, the conversation didn't maneuver that direction; instead, he went on to talk about how grayson was in charge of a foundation he owns and basically manages everything.

you found that rather impressive, considering he was only eight-teen. then you thought, 'just how rich is this guy?'

this arrangement continued for a few more weeks and then it turns into a constant routine for months. still never ordering anything order than a coffee, and leaving after.

one day, tobias abruptly stopped coming into the diner. and after a two-week hiatus, you figured he was likely not returning again.

you didn't realize how tedious work was without the old man's presence, you were still as busy as ever doing everyone's job, but now you didn't have the levity from your conversations.

it stayed like that for the following three months, no word from tobias. you wanted to contact him somewhere, but you began to realize how little you knew of him, hell you didn't even know his last name. he knew all the basics of what comprised you, but you couldn't even say his favorite color. and you’d known this man for almost a year.

but as it turned out, you didn't need to contact him yourself because a man came into the diner asking for you.

at first, you thought it was an unsatisfied customer here to berate you some more; it wouldn't be the first time. but you were more than relieved it was a guy you'd never seen before, a particularly handsome and well-fitted one.

you went up to the man and politely greeted him, asking how you could help him. he took you presence in when you appeared, looking up and down. it wasn't in a 'checking-you-out' type way, it was of an 'i'm judging what type of person you are' way. you felt scrutinized in your lousy diner girl uniform. it didn't help he was dressed pristinely from head to toe.

he finally spoke, "it's pertaining to my grandfather, tobias hawthorne."

you were piqued up at the mention of tobias, this was the first time you'd heard of his last name, but you didn't know any other tobias's so it must be him.

the man in front of you was one of his infamous grandsons he loved to chat about, although you weren't sure which one. but based on his stern and disciplined attitude, you'd place your bets on grayson. but just to be sure you asked.

"right, my name is grayson hawthorne." you called it. "unfortunately, my grandfather has recently passed. my family is in the middle of gathering everyone for the matter of the will, but all parties must be preset. my grandfather's law firm has informed me you are also mentioned in it."

your heart broke at the reveal of tobias passing. you knew him less than a year, but you still had formed a connection with him.

then the other portion of his statement dawned on you, he mentioned you in his will. why?

grayson seemed to have wanted to know this too. he said tobias mentioned you in passing but didn't offer details about your relationship. he didn't hide how he was suspecting and untrusting of you.

you filled him in on details of how you met, your meetings, and the last time you conversed with him. grayson was still wary of you, but he didn't have any reason yet to say you were lying.

he then urged you to gather your belongings because the two of you had to head over to his family's residence as soon as possible. he has already informed your boss of your leave of absence.

it was all so sudden, you were still processing all this information. grayson's insistence made it nearly impossible to do anything but listen. 

so, grayson took you home to change and pack a few items. you left a note for your parents, letting them know you'd be spending a night or two at a friend's house. you knew if you explained what was really going on they would not let you go; they'd probably even scold you for befriending a random old man at work, calling you naive.

although, that had merit because you were currently off with a man you knew for like five seconds because you believed he was the grandson of a man who you also didn't know for too long.

you thought the chance of getting kidnapped was better than overworking at the diner.

you were astounded when grayson casually took you to the destination of his private jet. you'd never flown first class, let alone a private freaking jet.

you two took off, and a few hours later, arrived in texas. the moment you stepped off, a bodyguard guided the two of you into a limousine. from there, you sought off to the mansion.

when you arrived, you thought you'd been driven to some sort of fancy hotel, but not it was where grayson and the rest of the hawthorne lived. you'd likely get lost trying to go from the kitchen to your bedroom.

grayson had to physically drag you away from your jaw-dropped stare at the property.

when you entered the entrance hall , another girl was already there, an older girl with her as well.

she turned her attention toward you when she noticed you entering, she seemed to have recognized grayson, but had a questioning gaze toward you.

the older girl was the one to speak to you first. “and here i thought we’d already met everyone affiliated with this crazy rich family. hi, i’m libby and this is my sister avery. are you grayson’s girlfriend?”

you could’ve died from awkwardness right there. you didn’t even wanna take a glance at grayson’s reaction, you imagined he would have a look of discontent.

“er, no. we just met today actually. he came into my work saying i’m needed for a will reading, and next thing i know im off in a private jet and in this mansion.”

this time avery spoke up, “sorry about libby’s assumption. it was just because you guys came in together and he’s carrying your bag.”

grayson was in fact hold your small luggage bag. he taken the liberty of taking it out of the trunk of the limo and carried it since.

you didn’t say anything, you just snatched your bag out of grayson’s hands, mumbling a quiet thanks.

grayson let out a laugh, but covered it up as a cough.

avery talked about her situation being similar to yours, except she’s never met tobias hawthorne before. it made you feel better there was someone else who felt like an outsider.

you were led away by grayson, guiding you to the room the will was being read. but you ran into a numerous amount of people on the way.

first, it was xander, the youngest hawthorne grandson. he appeared out of secret passage, jump scaring you. then he introduced himself.

nash, who had a country accent, followed a bit after walking in with his mother skye. she asked you a few invading questions about yourself, and you replied cordially. very relieved when grayson excused you both.

finally, you’d met jameson on accident. you were on the way to the bathroom, using directions given to you, and that’s when you bumped into him. he was very obviously drunk. he slurred a few words, but you quickly excused yourself, not wanting to deal with whatever was going on with him.

once you were finally in the room, you took a seat next to avery since she and her sister were the best options.

finally the will reading began, and the lawyers started reciting its words and designated belongs and money to different family members. all the families were stunned that the grandsons, especially grayson, hadn't gotten the entire fortune. yours and averys names had yet to be mentioned.

"to my newfound friend y/n l/n, i leave conservatorship to the hawthorne foundation. the remainder of my estate, including all properties, monetary assets, and worldly possessions not otherwise specified, i leave it to be shared upon y/n l/n and avery kylie grambs."

nothing could have you prepared for that. you thought it was a prank at first, some sick joke rich people do that get less-than-fortunate people's hopes up. but no, the lawyer did indeed confirm it to be true.

avery and yourself turned toward each other wide-eyed, completely flabbergasted. then the whole room erupted into chaos, everyone standing up to demand an explanation, accusing you both of having done something.

you had just met these people, and you couldn't for sure say they were capable of murder, but you'd seen enough movies about the rich to know it's definitely a possibility.

luckily, oren, tobias' (now ex) bodyguard, stood in front of you girls, preventing the hawthornes from stepping any closer. he claimed he worked for you both now, so it was his job to protect you.

"should we trust this guy? what if he's just playing us to get the inheritance." avery whispered to you.

"a bodyguard with ulterior motives is better than being left to the wolves."

"good point." libby chimed in.

it didn't end there; there were conditions for the will, saying you and avery must remain at the hawthorne estate for a full year to receive the inheritance.

so not only did you become enemy number one toward most hawthornes, but now you had to live with all of them. lovely.

that jump-started your now future of being involved with the hawthornes (and the grambs sisters)

after the will fiasco, the grayson made it his mission to unmask whatever game you played to get the inheritance, but he always came up empty-handed because you, as you insisted to multiple hawthornes, did not manipulate tobias. you didn't even know the guy's last name until you had met grayson.

if you had a talent for taking advantage of rich men, you would not be wasting time being a waitress for a shitty diner.

however, you tried to look on the very bright side of things, living in a gorgeous mansion. your bedroom was the size of your home's first floor. you;'d never slept on a comfier or larger bed.

one thing that set you apart from avery in the will was that you had complete ownership in the hawthorne foundation and his involvement with different charities. alissa had informed you that you'd need to learn to manage it- designating which associations to donate to, how much, how often, etc.

it was overwhelming to think about; if you failed to be a conservator, it would be given to the grandsons. you also knew having authority over it bothered zara hawthorne, since she'd spent basically her whole life running it. you knew it you were to make a wrong move, she'd be quick to call it out you.

alissa had arranged for you to go to the foundation and meet with someone who'd help you navigate the ropes. a part of you assumed it'd be zara meeting you there, maybe forced by alissa to help you. but instead, it was grayson, who still thought you were some master con woman.

he was the only grandson that had an issue with you and avery, but for some reason, you were more suspicious to him. xander, jameson, and nash seemed to have adjusted to events and were now somewhat friends with you. it was pretty infuriating how grayson would not listen to reason, no matter how much you tried to make amends.

grayson remained professional, not wanting his personal feud to hinder the foundation's work. he started giving you a tour and explaining an overview of how things ran. it became easier for you to imagine yourself running it.

you stopped when you passed by various black and white photos hung up in midair. they'd been hung since the beginning of your tour, but you'd only truly taken notice just now.

"who took these? they're beautiful."

"i did."

'of course, you did' you thought. he seemed to be good at everything.

"can i have a copy of this one?" you pointed toward a photo to your left; it was of a couple dancing together in the rain, in front of the eiffel tower.

"why?"

"i'd always wanted to see the eiffel tower. plus, i just really like it." it was true. the photo was captured exquisitely, and going to paris had always been a goal of yours, along with traveling to different places in the world.

he didn't respond. grayson went up to the photograph and carefully unlatched it. he then turned to you and gestured for you to take it, "here, you can have it."

you were a little shocked he just gave it to you, but hundreds of photos were decorated throughout the building, so it probably didn't mean much just giving you one.

you took it in your hands gently and thanked him. you both then continued your tour into the conference room to discuss further management of the hawthorne foundation.

but unbeknownst to you, the photo you now owned was one of his favorites.

it became easier to get to know and warm up to grayson the more you visited the foundation, which you did quite often because you now that you had (or will have) conservatorship to the foundation, you wanted to ensure you knew everything involving it to ensure you'd continue its success.

you could now say the two of you were somewhat friends, but there still seemed to be a wall - built by grayson, between the two of you. likely from the lack of trust he still has toward you.

at times he'd look at you as if you were the enemy, and other times he'd treat you courteously. his constant mood changes were driving you crazy.

you had been staying up later than usual since your stay at the manor began. it didn't help that there was possibly a secret passage in your room like avery's has.

but your leading cause of distress stemmed from the mystery of the whole will situation. you'd gotten a small letter like everyone else, but it failed to offer any closure.

in fact, all it said was, "good luck". you'd never had the urge to strangle a dead old man til now.

however, this night you decided to walk outside. you'd been hesitant to wander around the mansion, but then again, you technically half owned it now, and nobody could really stop you. so you decided to go to the pool area, carefully avoiding alerting your new bodyguard of your movement.

when you got there, it was empty as you had hoped. the pool was illuminated with the lights, the area surrounding it was dimly lit.

you settled for solely dipping your feet in the pool and gazing at the stars upon the sky.

half an hour in, you heard the faint sound of someone possibly approaching. you took it as a sign to get back to your room before oren noticed, if he hadn't already.

you got up a bit too quickly, causing an imbalance in your step - leading you to stumble backward into the pool.

most people would simply swim back up to the top and pull themselves out, but you couldn't do that for one big reason. you never learned to swim.

panic began to seep into you as you flailed your arms all over the place, attempting to float to the top, but it only made you sink further. it didn't help drowning was on the top of your list of 'ways i would hate to die'.

you were midway through choking on the water when someone jumped into the pool and carried you back onto the pavement.

after coughing the water out of your lungs, you looked at the face your your savior kneeled in front of your; low and below there was grayson hawthorne - wearing nothing but swim shorts.

the sight of him shirtless made it harder to steady your breathing.

"are you alright?" you nodded in confirmation.

"what were you thinking getting into the pool so carelessly?"

"well, i just to test out my new waterproof mascara." you said sarcastically. "obviously i didn't end up in the stupid pool purposely!"

he rolled his eyes. “god, were you born a horrendous swimmer or just taught by an imbecile.”

you stayed silent, looking away from him, not wanting to admit the embarrassing truth.

“do you…do you not know how to swim?”

"….. define knowing to swim.”

he gave you an incredulous look, “seriously? even most 5-year-olds know how to swim, better yet, they wouldn’t almost drown in the 7ft part of the pool.”

“okay i get it! it’s pathetic i don’t know the basics of swimming. you don't have to be an asshole about it.” you stood up angrily in your soggy clothes and attempted to walk away - but grayson grabbed your wrist.

“wait. alright, i apologize for being quick to judge. if you want..i’ll teach you to swim.”

you were taken aback by the gesture, not quite sure what to think. on the one hand, it could be a plan to embarrass you further, but on the other hand - you really didn’t want to live your life not being able to swim any longer.

“alright.”

the following night he made good of his word when you went out to meet him. (oren being aware this time, after he warned you he'd lock you in your room if you snuck out without him again.)

this time you had proper swim attire, a 2 piece bikini alissa had purchased for you, along with others.

grayson was already in the pool when you arrived, swimming laps. once he noticed your arrival, he stepped out of the pool. you would've thought it was a scene from a movie from how smoothly & dreamy he moved.

you averted your eyes before you stared at his form too long.

you weren't sure if it was your imagination or you saw grayson do a double-take when he saw you.

all his attractiveness was shortly forgotten when he went to his bag to retrieve something, then handed you some plastic. it took you a moment, but then it clocked - these you arm floaties.

"you're joking right?"

"hey, after that near-drowning experience, it's better to be safe than sorry."

"it's like you want to humiliate me."

"don't worry i chose the ones with the flowers to enhance your matureness." he fought back a smile with his words.

he got a nasty glare in response.

still, you knocked down your pride on putting on the floaties before you and grayson submerged into the pool.

then grayson began reciting exercises and movements for you to do. after floating around for a bit, he instructed you to remove the floaties. you were obviously hesitant, the floaties were keeping you from drowning, but grayson insisted that you trust him.

he grabbed your waist with both hands and got behind you; that was enough to quicken your pulse.

his hands held you steady as you attempted to stay afloat by moving your arms and legs. it would get harder to focus when his hands moved up and down your back.

"okay, i'm gonna let you go now."

"ok. wait what-"

you were abruptly cut off because grayson immediately removed his hands, leaving you on your own. being caught off guard, you began a repeat of the night before, but this time attempting to swim correctly. regardless, you were still beginning to choke on water and sink down.

grayson swam back to your aid in an instant, holding you up above the water by the waist.

"shit- i'm sorry. i assumed your instincts would kick in if you had less reaction time."

"oh, because it worked so well yesterday."

"right, perhaps i should've given it more careful thought." he moved a hand to the side of your face, "are you sure you're okay?"

you nodded, unable to verbally respond. the tension in the air thickened as the two of you continued to stare to one another. for a brief moment, his gaze wandered to your lips, and you stopped breathing.

his face slowly leaned into yours. you didn't know what you'd do if he was going to kiss you - a big part of you was ready to kiss back and the other part told you i'd be a mistake if you did.

but the moment was interrupted by alissa, who was calling your name because she wanted to ho over tomorrow’s events with you.

you also knew, based on alissa's critical gaze, she'd seen what was about to possibly happen. she has already given you a fair amount of warning about getting involved with hawthornes.

grayson then pulled away, awkwardly bidding you farewell, saying he'd see you later before he made his way out of the pool.

since then, the brewing tension between the two of you grew. it didn't help you already see him quite a bit during the day, then alone at night. apparently, it was evident to everyone there was something happening because thea calligaris cornered you.

"the last girl who was with grayson ended up dead."

you were unsure what to believe after that, you really didn't trust thea, but didn't mean it couldn't be true. 'don't rich people always have some murderous secret?'

you couldn't help it, and brought up the topic to grayson, who went very still at the mention. he lashed out at you before walking away. you suppose that confirmed it.

he avoided you for a few days, even skipped out on swimming lessons, so you kept yourself busy with school and hanging with avery and xander; solving the still ongoing mystery of the will. which you'd lowkey given up on because riddles were not your forte.

you felt bad your question, but he didn’t need to act so harshly toward you. so, you weren’t going to talk to him until he approached you first.

a knock sounded in your room when you were getting ready for bed. however, it didn't come from the door but from behind a large painting.

'i swear if this house is haunted, i'm running back home'

you tried to remove the painting, but it was stuck to the wall. then you discover a small button hidden on its frame. against better judgment, you press it, making the painting and the wall behind it move forward and slide to the left.

you knew there were various passages, but having one in your own room kind of freaked you out.

behind the moving wall stood grayson. you screamed at first, only seeing a figure in the dark. but then grayson quickly stepped into the light and closer to you to put a hand over your mouth. you were relieved to see him and not someone who would possibly murder you.

he didn’t remove his hand, you gave him an expectant look.

“just hear me out, before you demand i leave. i came to apologize.”

you nodded, allowing him to continue. he sighed and pulled his hand away. then he opened up to you for the first time, telling you about a girl name emily laughlin.

he explained her condition, how both hom and jameson were involved with her, and how she died.

the more the story went on the more you felt bad for both brothers, especially grayson since it seemed it was still affecting him. you even felt for emily, obviously, she lacked something in her life to play 2 brothers.

“i'm not complaining, but why did you decide to tell me all this” the two of you at some point made your way onto your bed, sitting side by side each other

he humorlessly laughs, and looks directly at you. “to be honest, i’m not even sure. all i know is when i look into your eyes, i have this urge to tell bare my soul to you.”

deja vu to the pool incident, you both didn’t say anything, just looked at each other, slowly leaning your face closer.

you were ready to be interrupted again, stopping the act before it can happen. but there was none, and your lips were now an inch apart, and your heart was beating like you just ran a marathon.

“tell me to stop right now, or i’m afraid i won’t be able to hold myself back.”

you said nothing.

wasn't like he gave you much reaction time anyway because he kissed you a second later - like you were the last person he was ever going to kiss.

and oh boy, was it a good kiss.

even when he left your room later that night, after much kissing you were still reeling from the shock of it all.

you didn't know what it meant for the two of you - did he like you?, was it a one-time thing?, or did he kiss you as a way to forget emily?

you were only sure of one thing right now - you felt something toward grayson that crossed the friend zone.

the kiss was never brought up over the days; grayson and you continued to work together and swim at night together almost every other day. you weren't sure if you were relieved or offended he never mentioned it.

you swore he got flirter since the kiss - his hand brushing against yours, standing very close behind you when reviewing something for the foundation, hands wandering when helping you swim, even a subtle flirty remark here and there.

you confided in avery about the events. she was insistent on the fact grayson liked you, and that he didn't seem like the type of have a fling nor rebound.

you wanted to believe he liked you, but then you would hear thea's voice in your head, reminding you of emily, and how he isn't over her.

it was driving you mad, so you convinced yourself you were simply reading into things. you weren't.

it all came to a head at a charity event the both of you helped plan for the foundation. you'd wore a beautiful namebrand designer custom-made gown, the fanciest dress you ever adorned.

however, the whole night grayson ignored you and made it clear he was avoiding you. anytime you approached him he gave an excuse to the person he was talking to that he had to go somewhere. or if you tried making eye contact, he was quick to turn his head the other direction. you didn't know what his deal was.

when you took to the outside for a breather, you sensed the arrival of his presence.

you scoff, "so now you wanna talk to me or what?"

he didn't respond, which upset you more. so you opted to walk back into the ballroom, but grayson stopped you.

"anytime i look at you too long, i think of our kiss that night. then i have to hold myself back from doing it another time. and if i kiss you, i thin- no. i know i won't be able to help but fall for you."

you were again dumbfounded by such confession. a habit that seemed to always happen in the presence of grayson hawthrone.

"i don't mind."

"neither do i."

he crashed your lips together with his in a flash.

unlike the first one, the kiss was messy, and messy was never a way you thought you'd describe the pristine grayson hawthorne.

his hands made their way to your face keeping you close while his mouth was almost devouring your lips. you steadied yourself by holding onto his shoulders because you did not trust your wobbly knees to stand on their own.

you pulled away first, heavily breathing like the night you almost drowned. your mind was still hazy, unable to properly form a sentence to speak.

grayson hands stayed, caressing your face gently,

"you can have my entire being if it means i get to kiss you like that whenever."

you both didn't end up returning to the charity that night. not while your makeup was smudged and all your lipstick was transferred on grayson's face.

though it was never verbally official, the two of you were evidently more than friends at that point.

you didn't even need to tell anyone of your newfound relationship because you'd come to find out jameson had seen the two of you that night, and he would could never resist a gossip about grayson. so the information easily made its way throughout the entire hawthorne manor.

in relation, grayson fought jameson. unfortunately, you weren't allowed to watch the fight because grayson didn't want you to witness any violence. you were lowkey disappointed because you and avery were ready to place bets.

alissa also made sure to have a talk with you both regarding public appearances. she advised it was better to keep it private because everyone was still reeling from yours and avery's newfound inheritance, and this news could possibly do damage to your media reputation. plus, it was better if grayson was advertised as single.

you personally didn't mind, you weren't the biggest fan of pda when you had a thousand new eyes on you. and alissa's advice was wise since you were new to the whole being a public figure thing. and well, you both lived together anyway.

grayson was more hesitant to agree, but mostly for your benefit he listened to alissa.

it was fun in a way, acting platonic in public then kissing when you got to the mansion or even the limousine. it was like having a secret relationship.

whenever interviews tried to insinuate something, you learned how to shut it down after much lessons on pr. but grayson liked to leave sly comments; only the two of you could understand.

"yeah, y/n's quite well at exploring the mouth of new things."

"y/n and i have become very acquainted with each other."

"you could say i'm into women who sink instead of swim."

it made you wanna laugh and playfully hit him all the same.

what really made your relationship step into public light was when rumors about you and jameson dating started circling around.

a photo of the two of you had been taken getting out of a limo together then entering a building, where people rumored you had a 'date'. in reality, both of you were there to talk to skye hawthorne after she was removed from the hawthorne mansion.

grayson was less than happy about these rumors, and jameson not denying anything to the press to get a rise out of grayson, was making things worse.

so, in a grayson hawthorne manner - he took care of things himself. he bought out all of the press and made them debunk the stories.

then to be even more dramatic, the next time the two of you were out together, he made a whole show of kissing you. even going as far as dipping you down in his arms before the kiss - felt straight out of a cheesy romcom. you couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, though.

the paparazzi had a field day with those photos & the two of your the front page of gossip magazines for weeks. alissa was ready to explode after only finding out the two of you went public from the media.

being in a public relationship was harder than being in a secret one. there were somehow even more eyes on you, picking your relationship apart. they mostly targeted your flaws and even took digs at your old diner job. even a surge of online hate came at your direction.

even grayson couldn't buyout every magazine or person who had a negative thing to say about you, and trust that he very much tried to.

but being official in public also had great pros. now, grayson and you could go out on dates wherever without worrying about hiding and disguises.

you couldn't stay anywhere too far at first because of the 'stay in the house for a year' rule, but you had dates at all sorts of fancy places. even though you were technically a net-worth nigher than him,now, he always insisted on paying the bill. ever the gentleman.

grayson knew how to plan one himself. a personal favorite of yours had to be the picnic in a hot air balloon.

but once the year was up, the first place gray took you was to paris, which he knew was always your dream. paris now seemed like a mundane dream compared to all of the past year's events.

still, paris was absolutely incredible, and being there with your boyfriend made it better - and helpful because he was fluent in french while you barely passed the high school class with a B.

seeing the eiffel tower was the best part, it was even more amazing up close. standing there with grayson, the grays started to cloud, and small drizzles of water came down.

your bodyguard (one oren forcefully implanted) had advised you both to head to the car before it started pouring. you were ready to follow along, but gray tugged your sleeve, stopping your movement.

you gave him a questioning gaze, so he held out his hand, asking you to dance.

you laughed and accepted nonetheless, even when the rain started to pour in more. the two of you began a clumsy (on your part) waltz across the pavement. both of your faces filled with blissful smiles. to this day, it is a favorite memory of yours.

it was even better when grayson gifted you a photo of you two that day, one he asked the bodyguard to take. now, the picture was framed next to the one grayson had taken & grayson hung a copy of it at the hawthorne foundation.

since dating, grayson's insomnia has improved immensely. it mainly had to do with the fact you two frequently sleep in his bed together. he jokes your his personal nyquil.

it's true when they say he sleeps like a deadman, even has a tiny snore - though he keep denying it. but he has some sort of sixth sense that enables him to know when you leave the bed.

like for instance, you needed to use the bathroom one night, and the moment you got up from the bed - grayson is up and asking where you were going.

the swimming lessons were not forgotten - you two still had that nightly routine. but you weren't becoming a michael phelps anytime soon. not when most of your lessons involved more kissing than swimming.

but hey, at least you've moved past the need for floaties. because grayson just carries you himself if it's too deep for you to swim.

he loves to buy anything that reminds him of you. a jewelry piece that matches your eyes, a dress he thinks would look pretty on you, a shift from your favorite film/show/artist, or even an item you offhandedly mentioned you wanted. he'd have them wrapped and ready to give to you the next moment he saw you.

much to our surprise, grayson was also the clingy type. his love language was more gift-giving but doesn't mean he wasn't a bit touch-starved.

he revels in hugs, kisses, and intimate moments. he always wants to hold hands when you both are walking together. jameson and nash love to tease him on it.

he has as a domestic side to him. he helps you put on your coat or even sometimes makes you wear it, keeps you on the side of the sidewalk not near the street, carries your purse or shopping bags, and helping you slip on your heels and shoes.

overall, grayson hawthorne was nothing less of an amazing boyfriend. except when he sees eve for the first time.

you were in the office of the foundation looking over a few files when you saw tobias' name mentioned then initials at the bottom. 'T.T.H.'

"huh, i thought your grandfather didn't have middle name."

grayson looked over your shoulder, "oh, he didn't. at least not until had changed his legal name less than a year before his passing."

"what is it?"

"tatersall. quite peculiar right?"

you laughed to yourself. perhaps he was trying to set you up with her grandson after all.

@itzchanelx @marigold-morelli

[powderblueblood]

I wonder how Lacy would react if Eddie ever read her journal 👀 Like if he ever happened upon it accidentally. I'm picturing a full on nuclear explosion. Scorched earth. That kind of thing.

ANON YOU BETTER FUCKING---!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

oh, it's the end of the goddamn world, as far as she's concerned.

like, she's comfortable enough with him that she eventually leaves it sort of kind of lying around right-- except for, not really, eddie does pinch it out of her bag. he does a really good job of sneaking excerpts when she's out of the room, and that shit gets addictive.

starts like this-- she's researching something (shit, maybe it's even hellfire club, who knows, not me) for the streak and eddie's like, "what the hell is she even scribbling about in here all the time..."

first of all, she's got imperceptibly tiny spy-level cursive that he feels like he needs a magnifying glass to read properly but with a little squinting and a little spirit, he's getting places.

and the places. are. crazy.

"what the fuck are you doing."

he hears her voice from the door of the drama room, and it is like he's been caught red handed with his first stolen copy of penthouse all over again (i'll let you guess who caught him-- because it wasn't wayne and it wasn't al, but she does live in forest hills trailer park). heart hammering, brain scrambling.

lacy, for her part, is red hot tip to toe. curiosity killed the cat, right, but she is going to skin eddie munson and make a coat out of him.

"lacy-- now, lacy, let's not--"

"asked you a question. i asked you a question, munson."

she moves fast but he's faster (used to scampering; he has rat blood).

"i have questions for the author!"

"i have a bullet with your name on it!"

"it says here that steve harrington is the kind of guy that would proclaim to love pussy as a pushback to his chauvinistic past, but would keep fingering you in the wrong hole-- care to comment!"

"i was bitter-- it doesn't fucking matter! give it back!"

"nancy wheeler has the intellectual stamina of an american girl doll with a particularly starchy backstory, but at the very least--fuck--at the very least, it means she won't end up like her mother, who almost definitely cashed in on the last of her souring good looks--stop fucking screaming!--to assist in the spread of billy hargrove's petri dish of sexually transmitted diseases! lacy!"

"what?!"

"it's like you've written fucking hawkins babylon!"

she shrieks, because he only knows about hollywood babylon because of her! don't you dare use a woman's cultural touchstones against her!

eddie just about dodges a d20 that's been flung at him with eerie precision.

"okay, that almost got me in the eyeball!"

"good! all the better to not read my fucking journal with, you provincial pigfucker piece of shit!"

"no, no no," eddie says, and he's like up on a table now because the guy loves to be up on a fucking table, holding that journal waaaay above his head, waaaay above where lacy can reach it (short, evil), "i need you to hear my favorite part."

he doesn't even need to read this part from the cursed tome, because it's memorized.

"al munson probably has no bearing on the way eddie munson lives his life, because he's a deadbeat the way his son is destined to be a deadbeat. but the mere genetic suggestion of that piece of shit--you said piece of shit, right?"

lacy stops. stomach dropping.

"--is enough for you to want to cut the brakes in his little boy's van."

a beat. the silence is, like. heavy. eddie stares down at her and she can't meet eddie's eyes. like. at all. she feels-- really bad. mouth all dry. steps off the chair she'd been standing on.

eddie crouches to face her. maybe his ripped jeans strain a little more at the knees, i don't know. he uses the journal to tilt her chin up, to look at him, to face what she's written about him, in paper and ink. (fancy ink. fountain pen ink. paper's not too shabby either.)

her heart is hammering out her chest, body not quite sure how to process guilt like it processes anger or resentment or annoyance or (more recently) laughter.

"lacy," he says, voice husky and serious. "i just have one question."

"... yeah?"

"why didn't you cut my brake lines and kill me when you had the chance?"

and the way the smile breaks over his face (sunrise after months of gloomy winter, yadda yadda yadda), she almost wishes she did.

almost.

"can i hazard a guess?" he's gonna hazard a guess. he flicks to one of the most recent entries and lacy, weakly, tries to slam her hand over the page. this one he's had to read a couple more times to get the gist of it. because this one is really scandalous.

"dear reader," god, what is this? is this his lacy impression? it's awful, "it has taken you less than five weeks to become incapable of imagining your life without--"

"don't," and lacy actually snatches the journal from him this time, clutching it tight to her chest. "if your ego gets any bigger, it'll become cancerous."

or y'know somethin like that

[magickcandie]

John Deacon x Fem!Reader

In the rising fame of Queen, many journalists were often there to talk. More often than naught, the band found themselves repeating things before sending the reporter away. That was until Y/N L/N.

When she was there, she found a way to make herself like able. Speaking about the art of performing with Freddie. Roger’s song writing. Brian’s understanding of writing music. And most of all, she got John to talk and smile and laugh. None of the others could.

She was the one they sent whenever they needed information of Queen. And that became the only time John was excited for an interview.

“You guys have another interview.” Miami said, walking into the studio. “It’s with Y/N.”

“Oh, that’s great!” John said, his tone of voice revealing how he really felt about said reporter.

Roger turned to look at the bassist. “That’s the most excited I’ve ever seen you for an interview.”

“Yeah, John, what is it?” Brian asked, just as curious.

“Nothing, just… interested in the… interview topics?”

“I think our lovely John is definitely interested in something, but not the interview.” Freddie said, coming to sit next to Roger and Brian.

Roger leaned forward to tease. “My my, Deaky, do you fancy Y/N?”

John raised his brows with a mischievous grin but shook his head anyway.

“You should totally take her out. It could be so romantic,” Brian said.

“No, I could never talk to Y/N.”

“You’re distaste towards human interaction is becoming… well, quite distasteful,” Freddie said with a pout. “What if we were to do something?”

Roger jumped to his feet in excitement. “Yeah, we could talk to Y/N for you!”

“No, we won’t be doing any of that, thank you. I’m willing to let things happen on their own.”

“John, dear, if we let you deal with it like that, nothing will happen.”

Freddie didn’t give John the luxury of arguing back. Said a simple “tut tut” and walked off, taking Brian and Roger with him. Which was fine because that’s when you walked in.

“Hello, John.” You smiled at him. “Where’s the rest of them?”

“Elsewhere. How have you been, Y/N?”

“Fine, fine. And you?”

“Quite alright. So what’s the plan for today?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m to ride with you to the venue while you all do sound checks and the like. In between those is when I’ll start individual interviews.”

In many ways you were found of John as well. You felt his answers were truthful in a way that the others didn’t quite have. But that was on the professional level. He made you happy, and laugh. He was very open, which you found out was actually a rare thing.

On many occasions, you tricked yourself into thinking he was just being courteous.

Much to John’s dismay, you got Freddie first.

“Hello, Fred. You can have a seat, I just need to get a new pen. Seems that I have lost mine.”

“Oh you won’t need that. Come, let’s talk.” He hooked arms with you. “Shall I interview you?”

“Me? Whatever for?”

“What, can’t I speak with my darling friend Y/N?”

You shrugged but went along with it. “What’s bothering you?”

Freddie waved his hands in dismissal. “You shan’t be my therapist either. This is about you, my dear. What do you look for in a lifelong partner?”

“Oh, that’s a bit forward." Freddie shrugged as if it wasn't "Well I don't know. Someone who's honest, I guess."

"John is very honest. Ever think about things short term?"

"No. I see no desire in that."

Freddie crossed his legs, then uncrossed them and stood. "Well that's all I have for you, darling. I'll send Roger in."

You didn't acknowledge him as he left the room, then Roger was walking in. He took Freddie's spot on the couch.

"How have you been, Y/N."

"Fine, fine. Now, I we see that you wrote a song on the album. What influences -"

"Oh, hush up about the album. Let's talk."

Okay....

"Roger, what are you and Freddie doing?"

"Oh, he got started? Good. Are you doing anything this coming week?"

"No, not that I know of."

"Neither is John." Roger left it at that and leaves the room, leaving you completely shocked.

Brian walked in with a smile. He would be easy to ask. He'd reveal himself if you asked.

"Brian May, what are you guys doing?"

"What do you mean?" He started to play with his hands. He was already nervous.

"You, Roger, and Freddie. What are you doing?" You crossed your arms, hoping that you could weasel the answer out of Brian.

"Y/N, we're not -"

"Were you coming in here to talk about John? Now tell me, what are you doing?"

Brian sighed and deflected in defeat. "John likes you, but he wouldn't do anything. We decided that we would try to push you into it instead." He stood up. "I'll leave now."

It was the greatest news you could've heard! You couldn't wait for him to say something, because you knew John. He wouldn't on any occasion!

John coming into the room took you out of your head. He smiled at you, sitting down at the couch.

"Hello, Y/N. What questions do you have about the album?"

At least he didn't set them up, you reasoned with yourself.

"John, I don't want to talk about the album." Everything was set up, and there was no better time to admit your feelings than here. "I really like you. And unfortunately, Brian did said you did liked me too?"

He went quiet and red in the face. "Y/N, I'm sorry you had to hear it from them."

"It's fine, John, really, but is it true?"

"Yes, Y/N, I really do. You're really beautiful, insanely smart, and just so... perfect. Can I take you out?"

You embraced him. "Of course, John!"

Freddie, Brian, Roger stood standing, peaking through the door. They froze when they saw John glare at them over your shoulder. The boys laughed before shutting the door.

Freddie sighed, dropping his hand to his hip. "Well that didn't take long."

[to-the-stars8]

Affairs and Letters

Jason Todd x Reader Regency AU! AO3 Chapters

Part XI

The ink of your pen was the water to Mr. Todd’s choking thirst for you. With every letter you had given him before your parting, you proved to be a coy lover, with gentle jabs at his brazenness in his approach followed by the taunting dare to love you as deep as he could. Jason soon found himself pondering ways to get back to you sooner and sooner, crafting schemes unbefitting a man of his station. You had successfully turned him into your most desperate devotee, and the feeling was an addiction he would not break soon. 

His affection had not gone unnoticed, either. Dick took every opportunity to dress down his brother’s approach to you, telling him not to fall to follies of fancy, but he heard none of it. Jason oft turned the sentiment back to his brother, reminding him of his infatuation with particular red-haired women.

One day, while Jason was writing a letter, Dick burst into the study, proclaiming that he would never guess who had arrived with dearest Barbara Gordon and young Master Jon. 

As he assumed himself to be smarter than his brother, Jason bothered not to guess. 

It had been some time since had last seen you, and not a moment had passed when you did not cross his mind. Mr. Todd had attempted to sway his father to call upon the Kents when they passed Kent House for business, but Mr. Wayne could not be influenced to do so without noting his son’s intentions.

Pushing away from his work, Jason made his way to the sunroom. 

There, you exchanged pleasantries with his father and Miss Kyle as Barbara entertained Cassandra with a memory. Outside the glass windows of the sunroom, Jason could see Damian and Jon playing amongst the rose bushes while Alfred, the butler, stood watch over them. 

“Ah,” Mr. Wayne said upon his son’s entrance. “I was wondering when you would make an appearance!”

“Father,” Jason said, letting Mr. Wayne come over and kiss him upon the cheek. 

“Come say hello to our friends.”

Jason instantly took to you, greeting you warmly before remembering it would be polite to greet everyone else. Dick snickered, mumbling something to his father who only gave him a pointed stare in return. 

Miss Kyle, ever the clever lady, smirked as she turned to you. “It is such a pretty day is it not, Miss?” You hastily agreed, blushing. Pleased, she turned to Jason. “Mr. Todd, don’t you think it’s a pretty day, too?”

“Yes, yes,” He subconsciously nodded toward the window. “A fine day, indeed. I thought of taking my horse out this afternoon, but now I am glad to have decided against it.”

Miss Kyle ‘tsked’, “Do not deprive yourself of such a day on our account. Why don’t you and Mr. Grayson take Miss Gordon and her friend here for a turn about the gardens?”

Mr. Grayson beamed with happiness. “Yes, that’s a splendid idea. Come, we should observe the boys in hopes of preventing them from mischief.”

You laughed, taking Mr. Grayson’s offered arm as Miss Gordon took the other. “Ah, is it not odd that we punish children for things we also did as children?”

Jason snickered, only remarking once the four of you left the room. “That is where we differ from the boys— we never got caught.”

The day was sunny and bright, and it made perfect sense that you, Barbara, and Jon had made the trip to visit as it was a rare autumn day not to be wasted. Mr. Grayson let you go the moment Barbara made the gesture that the two of them should look upon the fountain in the center of the garden. 

Jason excused his brother’s rude leave and offered his arm, which you took as he guided you toward the children. Mr. Todd stood as close to you as societal rules would allow as he thought it to be rare to be close to perfection—And such a thing did not exist in his mind until he saw you. 

“How is sweet Jon fairing?” He asked to break the easy silence. 

You smiled to yourself, looking at Jon prancing around Damian, before answering, “Well. He’s recovered so much that Lady Kent wanted him out of the house today. The boy has been bouncing off the walls with excitement.”

“Very good. And, how are you?”

“I am well, and I have managed to survive Lady Kent’s anger.”

“Oh?” Jason sounded amused. 

You snickered, sarcastically remarking, “Do not seem so surprised!” When your laughter died, you grew quiet, as though you were wondering something. Suddenly, you took your arm from his. Mr. Todd almost protested before he saw you reach into your bag, taking only a moment to glance around, and then pulling out letters. It was not a hefty stack, but he was surprised the number of letters you had in your hand could hide so well in such a small pouch. 

“I was kept so busy, Mr. Todd,” You said as you put the stack inside his coat pocket. “That I had no time or excuse to call upon you. Yet, I found that it provided me plenty of time to think of you.”

Jason could not get out the words he wished to say, and his silence seemed to make you proud. You stepped back, walking around him toward Jon with the declaration that you wanted to participate in their next game. When he gathered his thoughts, he joined you with hope and a smile. 

[the-wize-1]

Thawing the Widow (A Natasha Romanoff Story): Chapter 7 - School

Chapter Summary: Natasha tricks Cat into going to school. Apparently she's some kind of genius.

Chapter Warnings: Talks about kidnapping.

Notes: Thanks for all the support on this story! Please continue to like/reblog/comment (I feel like a Youtuber). Also if there is anything you're interested in seeing in the story, let me know and I'll try to incorporate it!

Thawing the Widow Masterlist

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Once they arrived at Natasha's apartment, Cat had to try hard to pretend not to be too impressed.

It had to be three times as large as Trevor's place. It was impeccably furnished and decorated, with lush sofas and pristine countertops. To Cat's delight, there were two fancy espresso machines— if you felt like making two cups at the same time, she guessed. The apartment was located in the richer part of the neighborhood. There was a sprawl of shops and diners across the street. It was clear that being an Avenger paid well.

The house had that fresh, new-house smell. She noticed there were no framed pictures in the apartment, or anything that could have revealed who the owner was. There were three bedrooms. In contrast to the rest of the apartment, the bedrooms were furnished very little. One of them was completely empty. The other two only had beds and drawers. One of them had a desk. There was barely anything in the fridge. Natasha only had plastic cups and utensils.

"I only stay here when I'm in the neighborhood," Natasha explained. "It's more of a safehouse. That's why it's so empty."

Cat was okay with the space. She liked having room to move. It was vastly different from Trevor's apartment, which had been cluttered with so many beer bottles that she could hardly walk from one side of a room to the other without stumbling over something.

Natasha gave her a key to the apartment, and told her, "If you lose it, you aren't getting another one."

Cat was allowed to choose a room; she chose the one with the desk. It took her roughly five minutes to unpack. The only things she still carried with her were basic living necessities and her stuffed rabbit, Rufus. She had a diverse collection of clothes, taken from homeless shelters and traded on the street. They fit her oddly, either oversized or undersized, and most of them were ripped or had holes in them.

The ill-fitting clothes didn't escape Natasha's notice. The second day, Cat woke up to find the closet bursting with a plethora of clothes. Leggings, T-shirts, tops, jeans, jackets, coats. She had no idea how Natasha had gotten her size, but all of them fit her perfectly. She was suddenly overwhelmed with a wave of gratitude. She didn't know if she could put it into words. But Natasha didn't bring it up, so neither did she.

As the days went by, Cat noticed new additions to the apartment. New pens and books appeared in her room. Chew toys and dog beds for Taco manifested in the living room. The fridge was always full. Sometimes Taco Bell would be waiting on the table when Cat got back. A couple of those cheesy mugs with funny one-liners sat next to the expensive wine bottles in the cupboards. And lastly, about five different brands of cereal in the pantry, including Fruit Loops. Yet, Natasha never said a word about it.

Despite what Natasha had said about only living there when she was in the neighborhood, she seemed to be at the apartment quite a lot. She was nearly always at the table in the morning, awake before the sun. She would be reading a book or scrolling through her phone, a pot of coffee steaming next to her. She always glared when Cat stole it to pour herself two mugfuls of coffee, muttering something about grubby coffee-addicted children.

Cat appreciated the tranquil peacefulness of the mornings. Back when she lived at Trevor's, mornings were the only time she had to herself. She'd never been great at the whole sleeping thing, either. It wasn't uncommon for her to be up at 3AM drinking coffee. When she'd been homeless, her sleep schedule had been all over the place.

However, Natasha's sleeping schedule seemed even more irregular. She often came back to the apartment at odd hours, or got up at midnight for a jog. Sometimes, they caught each other in the kitchen in the early hours and talked about nothing in particular. Natasha never asked her why she was up so late, or told her to go back to sleep. She did, however, make many comments that hinted at Cat's unhealthy sleeping habits, which Cat was content to ignore. Their conversations had a fair amount of rolling eyes and bickering.

Still, some days Cat walked into the kitchen in the morning and Natasha wasn't there. The woman never left a note or mentioned leaving. She'd come back after a few days. The most she'd been away was two weeks. Cat guessed that she was on some Avenger-related mission. She'd always come back looking a little tired, with bandages over fresh cuts and bruises.

Cat was good on her own. Cash was kept in a hidden drawer in the kitchen. Natasha had shown it to her the first week. She could get in and out of the apartment with her key. Over the next few weeks, she fell into a routine. She spent the days walking around the city, exploring new streets and shops. She took Taco to the park, went to the library to read, and was free to do whatever she pleased.

Overall, life was good. So good, that Cat had to routinely keep reminding herself to not get too comfortable. Still, it was hard when she had all the Fruit Loops and coffee she could ever want, a warm place to sleep, and the constant hunger in her stomach no longer intensified day by day.

But what if this whole plan didn't work out? Cat knew better than to think this was anything but a temporary arrangement. She had learned from making this mistake in various foster homes. One second, things were fine— then all of the sudden, BAM! She was back in the system because they decided she was too troublesome, too mouthy, too much to deal with. She got into too many fights, she was too hyper, she was mean to the other kids— Cat had heard it all. What if the same thing happened with Natasha? The questions lingered in her mind.

The first time Natasha had left for a mission, Cat had explored the entire apartment fully. She'd discovered not one but twenty-three different hiding places loaded with weapons, cash, fake passports, and random assortments. Cat didn't know why she was so surprised when she saw the guns. Of course the Black Widow would want to be protected in her own house. But the guns gave her an idea.

Just in case she had to live on the streets again, she needed something that would protect her. Cat took a gun from one of the hiding places and stashed it in her pillowcase. She'd read about that type of gun in the library and had studied the different diagrams. At night, she practiced taking it apart and putting it back together, then practiced turning the safety on and off. Sometimes she would aim it at nothing in particular, imagining those muggers who'd attacked her on the other end of it. She was reminded of how helpless she felt, how weak.

Briefly, that took her back to Trevor. She shut the memory down quick— she was getting better at that. Gripping the gun tightly, she decided that she never wanted to feel that helpless again.

But simply knowing how to hold the gun wasn't enough. One day, she confronted Natasha at breakfast.

"Teach me how to fight."

Natasha set down her fork. Her expression, as always, was unreadable. "Why?"

"Because I want to know how."

"Why do you want to know how?"

Cat didn't want to tell her the real reason why. She was quiet for a long time. "I just do."

Natasha was silent for a long moment. She seemed to see right through her. Cat shifted nervously.

"Okay."

Cat beamed, nearly springing out of her chair in glee. "Really?"

"However, I have two conditions."

Cat sat back down and crossed her arms, not liking the sound of that. "What are they?"

"One, stop stealing my guns."

Cat's heart stuttered in her chest. How the hell did she notice it was gone? There must've been at least thirty guns hidden around the apartment.

"I… don't know what you're talking about," she tried.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Please. You're not as sneaky as you think you are. The walls are paper-thin. And I'm familiar with what assembling and disassembling a semi-automatic pistol sounds like."

"Okay, fine. Stealing guns— not an option. What about the knives?"

Natasha glared.

"Okay, fine. No knives either." Cat leaned back in the chair. "So what's the second condition?"

A gleam in Natasha's eye made Cat feel wary. "The second condition: If I teach you how to fight, you have to go to school."

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

And that was how Cat found herself waiting in front of the principal's office at a brand-new school, smack in the middle of the school year, waiting to be admitted into her first class.

Fun.

Natasha only agreed to teaching Cat how to fight after she completed her first day of school. It would be worth it, Cat reminded herself, when she was being taught how to punch a mugger in the face by the Black Widow herself.

When Cat saw the new backpack Natasha had chosen for her, she'd gotten second thoughts. Currenting lying next to her feet, it was no less hideous than her old one. This one was My Little Pony merchandise, a mortifying pink covered in sparkly bright pony decorations. Cat had an inkling that Natasha had done it on purpose— oh, who was she kidding? She'd definitely done it on purpose.

The room was painted a mild and disgusting shade of yellow. The walls were covered in posters with words. Cat amused herself by reading through them. NO BULLYING. Think big! Your only limit is your mind. One was covered with words like responsibility and respectful and happiness. Barf.

The secretaries' desk sat in front of the principal's office. There were two of them. One looked like she should've retired two decades ago. She moved with an agitating slowness only rivaled by the laziest sloth in the rainforest. She was squinting at her computer, frowning and muttering to herself. Cat was almost certain she was playing solitaire. The other secretary was gossiping on the phone to someone about Terry's latest squash patch and how they all looked like a bunch of deformed potatoes.

Taco hadn't been allowed on campus. She was so used to having her beagle around that without her, Cat felt like some part of her was missing. That, coupled with having to sit still at the chair made her antsy. Cat had never been a patient person. She checked the time on the clock for the second time that same minute. How was it possible that she'd only been waiting seven and a half minutes?

Cat was saved from her boredom by the door beside her chair swinging open. A dark haired boy sauntered in. Cat caught a glimpse of a self-satisfied expression on his face as he made his way to the secretaries' desk and slammed a pink slip of paper down on it with an unnecessary amount of force.

"Jesus!" the gossiping secretary cried.

The secretary playing solitaire showed no sign of acknowledging that anything had happened. She frowned and muttered to herself some more, clicking her mouse.

"Hi, Julie," the boy said.

"Please stop calling me Julie, Lance. I'm Mrs. Schroder."

"But it's your name. Can't I call you by your name?"

"Well it's unprofessional—"

"But I'm not a professional. I'm only a kid."

"That's not the point, Lance. Let me see that." She took the pink paper slip from him. "What've you done this time?" She read it and shook her head. "Take a seat next to Catalina, Lance."

Lance turned around and plopped down next to Cat. He looked at her. His eyes were weirdly bright and blue, a steep contrast to his dark hair.

"Hi," he whispered.

"Hi," Cat whispered back, unsure of why they were whispering.

"I haven't seen you before. You must be new."

Cat raised her eyebrows. "Just because you haven't seen me before doesn't mean I'm new. There are loads of people at this school."

"I know everyone here. I've been going here since kindergarten."

"Good for you."

He quirked an eyebrow at her. "But you are new, right?"

"Yes," Cat admitted.

"I knew it!"

"There's no need to sound so pleased with yourself. It's not like you made a groundbreaking discovery."

"I'm Lance, by the way. I'm in fourth grade." He reached his right hand over. Cat shifted in her seat, awkwardly positioning herself so she could shake his hand. "You're Catalina, right?"

"Just Cat for short. I'm also in fourth grade. Your hand's really cold."

He released her hand, looking a little embarrassed. "They're always that way. I have bad cir-cu-la-tion" he said, sounding the word out slowly. "But my mom always says I should shake people's hands when I meet them. She's weird."

My mom's dead, Cat nearly said, but deemed it a little too heavy for fourth grader conversational topics.

"So why do you listen to her?" she asked instead.

"I don't know. 'Cause she's my mom, I guess." His eyes moved down to the My Little Pony monstrosity. "Nice backpack."

"Not really. I know it's ugly. I didn't choose it."

"Did your mom choose it for you?"

"No," she said shortly. Before he could ask about it, Cat switched tracks quickly. "How'd you get in trouble?"

He grinned mischievously. "I dumped a bucket of paint over Chelsea's head. It got all over her hair. You should've seen her face." He crowed delightfully. "Mrs. Reynolds totally freaked out. It was hilarious."

She huffed, turning away from him. "Jerk."

"Hey," he protested. "I'm not a jerk!"

"Says the guy who poured a bucket of paint over some girl's head for no reason."

"First of all, it was Chelsea Manchester. If you knew that witch, you'd want to pour a bucket of paint over her head too. And it wasn't for no reason!"

"I bet it was for a stupid reason, then."

"It wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

"Was!"

"Wasn't!"

Their argument had risen in volume so that the secretary on the phone snapped, "HEY! You two! Quiet!"

Cat crossed her arms, throwing a skeptical look at him. "What was the reason, then?" she asked, quieter.

"She bet me I wouldn't," Lance said proudly.

Cat rolled her eyes. "See? Stupid reason."

Before Lance could retaliate, the principal's door swung open. He was an unsightly, pudgy man with no neck and squinty eyes, decked out in a full suit that probably didn't fit him as well as he hoped it would.

"Catalina?" he called.

"She likes being called Cat," Lance interjected. "I know that because I talked to her, Mr. Tater Tot."

"Wow," Cat said. "Is your name actually Mr. Tater Tot?"

"No," Mr. Tater Tot said crossly. "It's Mr. Tate. Lance, if you could refrain from passing your bad influence on our new students, I will be with you in a second. Catalina, come on in."

"It's Cat!" Lance called from his seat as Cat followed Mr. Tater Tot inside his office.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

This is a way better punishment than skipping recess," Lance said later, as he was pointing out the bathrooms to her.

Mr. Tater Tot had told Lance that being the welcome wagon for Cat was his punishment for pouring paint over Chelsea Manchester. He also had to write the girl a formal apology letter.

"But it doesn't actually have to be an apology letter," Lance told Cat. "Mr. Tater Tot never actually reads the thing, 'cause he's so busy and all. Supposedly. So basically you can write stuff like I hope you find a dead rat in your cubby the next time we have recess and you're good to go."

"Oh, here's Mrs. Reynold's class," he said, leading her through a door.

The classroom was colorful and full of the same gag-worthy posters she'd seen in the principal's office. Desks were pushed together to create table groups. Mrs. Reynolds was a young twenty-something woman who didn't seem awful at doing her job. Only, she made Cat introduce herself in front of the entire class like they were in kindergarten.

"Say your name and your favorite color," Mrs. Reynolds encouraged her.

Cat told everyone her favorite color was gray. It wasn't, but she thought it was funny because who the hell liked gray, of all colors?

Mrs. Reynolds placed her in the same group as Lance, a boy wearing rectangular glasses, and a seething girl who looked like she'd taken a shower with all her clothes on. Her hair was dripping over the carpet and her skin was tinged blue. She had a delicate face and would've been pretty if she hadn't looked like a Smurf. Cat presumed this was Chelsea Manchester.

The boy wearing glasses looked relieved when Lance and Cat came over. "Oh good, you're back. She's been going on and on."

"You! Look what you did to me!" Chelsea shrieked at Lance. "Mrs. Reynolds! I don't want to sit near him!"

"Get along, you two," Mrs. Reynolds said airily, passing worksheets to everyone.

"That's T.J.," Lance introduced, pointing at the boy with the glasses, "and that's the wicked witch herself."

T.J. waved. "Hi."

"Do not listen to anything he tells you. Lance is a huge loser." Chelsea turned to Lance, shoving the blue sleeve of her white fluffy coat. "This was a beautiful titanium white before! Look what color it is now!"

"Now it's a nice titanium blue," Cat offered.

Chelsea frowned at her. "That doesn't even make sense!"

Mrs. Reynolds hurried over. "Catalina—"

"It's Cat," Lance corrected.

"Right— Cat, would you come over here?" Mrs. Reynolds beckoned her towards a sole desk isolated from the rest of the class, in the farthest corner. There was a small packet sitting on it, as well as a pencil and eraser. "This is just a standard test. You'll be quizzed on math or English. Don't worry if you haven't prepared for it. It's not graded, it's just for me to see where you're at academically. Try to get through as many problems as you can. I'm not expecting you to complete the whole thing, just try your best…"

Cat didn't think she'd have any problem with the test. She had studied to a high school level in the library. Math came easy to her. All it was was memorizing a bunch of rules and applying it to numbers. English was a little harder, but it was similar to math in the sense that it also had a set of rules to memorize.

After Mrs. Reynolds left her to teach the class, Cat quickly scanned the problems on the first page. Sure enough, all the problems on the first page were easy enough that she could do in her head. She flew through them, circling the correct answers. The second page was much of the same.

Cat flipped through the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth pages with little to no difficulty. Surely it couldn't be this easy! She had spent so much time at the library, away from school, she'd forgotten how easy all the elementary school material was. By the time she reached the last page, Mrs. Reynolds still hadn't come to get her.

Cat sneaked a look up. The class was bent over their desks, scribbling on paper. The only sound was the occasional mutter from a student, immediately silenced by Mrs. Reynolds. Was Cat supposed to just… sit there? She flipped through the pages of the test packet again, making sure that she hadn't missed anything important that should have been consuming her time.

But she'd finished every single problem. She didn't bother checking her work; she knew she'd done it all correctly. When it came to math, she was like a calculator.

Unsure of what else to do, Cat settled for doodling on the margins of the test. She drew a spider, a pumpkin, a pumpkin eating a spider… She was so focused, she jumped when she heard Mrs. Reynold's voice next to her ear.

"I'm sorry, Cat. I'm so silly— I just realized I gave you the wrong test. That's the middle school curriculum. You must've been so confused!" Mrs. Reynolds took the packet from Cat and frowned. Eyebrows climbing up on her forehead, she flipped through the pages and looked back up at Cat again. Then back down at the test. Then—

"Have you finished the packet already?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't show your work," she observed.

"I did it in my head," Cat explained.

Mrs. Reynolds looked at Cat thoughtfully. "Hmm."

She hurried away with Cat's test, telling the class she was leaving for a little bit and to behave. Cat sat there for a long time, not knowing what to do and feeling like she did something wrong. The class was beginning to finish whatever it was they were working on. Quiet chatter turned into a clamor of voices.

Mrs. Reynolds burst into the classroom again, the chatter immediately calmed. She told T.J. to pass out another round of worksheets, causing the class to collectively groan. She returned to Cat's isolated corner desk and slid another packet to her and asked her to complete it.

This time, Mrs. Reynolds dragged a chair over and watched as Cat completed the test. Cat found it a little creepy. The test was a little harder than the previous one, but she was still able to finish it without any trouble. After she finished, Mrs. Reynolds left the classroom again and came back. Cat had no idea why Mrs. Reynolds looked so amazed and confused. Teachers were weird.

"Cat, this is incredible," Mrs. Reynolds whispered to her. "You completed a seventh grade level and an eighth grade level standardized test, and you passed both with flying colors."

Oh. No wonder it was so easy. Cat stared blankly at Mrs. Reynolds, who seemed to be waiting for a reaction. What was the big deal? "Um… cool," she said.

"Okay," Mrs. Reynolds said, still looking like she couldn't believe what she was saying. "You can go back to your table group now."

"Don't worry about the test," T.J. told her when she came back. "Everyone did horrible on it."

"Not me," Chelsea sniffed. "I did spectacularly. Mrs. Reynolds told my parents herself."

Lance snorted. "I suppose your parents were the ones who told you that?"

"Why does it matter?" Chelsea asked indignantly.

Lance rolled his eyes.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

"How was school?" Natasha called as Cat unlocked the apartment and stormed in. Taco sprung up from the couch and charged into her.

"Horrible. Not you, Taco," Cat mumbled into Taco's fur. "You're wonderful."

Natasha came into the living room, holding the landline. "That's not what your teacher said. She called— apparently you're some kind of genius."

Cat had reached into a box of Fruit Loops and stuffed a handful in her mouth. It took her a long time to chew and swallow. "Well, obviously. I didn't need her to tell me that."

"She says you could take some classes at the high school if you're interested." Natasha waited for an answer. When none came, she pressed, "Well? Are you interested?"

Cat set the box of Fruit Loops down, not liking the steely glint in Natasha's eyes. "If I say I'm not, are you going to refuse to teach me how to fight?"

"The chances of me using that as leverage against you… are very high."

Cat clenched her jaw. "You're evil. And manipulative."

Natasha smirked. "So you're on board?"

"I'm going to be bullied. Relentlessly."

"You are not. High schoolers love ten year old know-it-all geniuses."

"They do not."

"Then it's a good thing you're going to know how to beat some high schoolers up after you learn from the best. Isn't that what you want?"

Cat sighed theatrically, long and drawn-out. "Fiiiiine.”

"Great!" Natasha chirped with uncharacteristic cheer. "I was going to sign you up regardless of your answer."

"Thanks so much for bothering to ask me at all," Cat said sarcastically. She grabbed Taco's leash. "Taco and I are going on a walk. See you never."

"Midtown High!" Natasha called after her retreating form. "You're going to be learning amongst the best and brightest!"

Cat shouted back a not very nice thing. She could hear Natasha's low laugh echo before the door swung shut.

.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*

Notes: Hmm, who goes to midtown high that we know? Let me know what you think and if you like Cat's friends! See you on thursday!

[reigningqueenofwords]

The Letter

Word count: 1,366

Read on AO3

Part 1 of Looking for the Captain

Never knowing who your father was was hard enough. Never knowing why your mother was always looking over her shoulder added to that. When you were young, you would ask her about it- why did she look so frightened all the time? You’d be told to hush, and not ask such questions. The older you got, the less you asked. Until you just stopped bringing it up. The years took their toll on her, and you refused to add to that.

Now, you were 21, and attending NYU. You had a small apartment that you shared with a roommate. Nothing fancy, but it was a roof over your head. Lounging in your room, you were studying for an upcoming final when your roommate knocked. “Yeah?” You looked up, chewing on the end of your pen.

“There’s a letter for you.” She shrugged, handing you an official looking manila envelope. “There’s no return address.”

Sitting up, you furrowed your brows and took it. “That’s odd.” You muttered, prying open the two small prongs on the back. Dumping out the contents, there were two white envelopes, and a necklace. Holding it up, it was a long silver chain, with a locket. “What the hell?” Your roommate stood there, curious. You glanced at her. “You can sit.” You told her, setting the necklace down. You raised an eyebrow at the name written on the first envelope you picked up- Steve Rogers. Why did that name sound familiar? Next, there was one with your name. Both were clearly written by a male. 

She picked up the first one, and her eyebrows went up. “You have mail for Captain America?!”

“Wait, what?” You stared at her. “That’s why that name sounded familiar! Why would I get mail for him…?”

“Read your letter? Maybe it says?” That was her best guess.

Nodding, you carefully opened your letter and unfolded the paper. It wasn’t long, but you were beyond curious.

Dear Y/N,

I get this is probably confusing. Getting a strange package in the mail, and a letter addressed to Cap, right?

Well, I’m your father. My name is Bucky Barnes, kid. I’m not exactly Mr. Popular or anything. So, you can understand the secrecy, right? The locket was your mother’s, I’ve kept it close. It’s yours now.

If you’re reading this, you need to get to Steve. It’s not safe for you, and I know I can trust him to keep you safe. I wish I had more time, and I could do this in person, but this is the best way to keep some very dangerous people away from you.

Stay safe.

-Bucky

Your eyes stared at the words that were hastily scribbled on the paper. “That can’t be right.” You thought out loud. “Why the hell would my mother be involved with someone like this?!” She was always so cautious, so timid. This didn’t sound like her.

She shrugged. “Parents change when they have kids, man. I mean, who knows what she was like before she had you? How much has she ever told you?”

“Very little.” You admitted, licking your lips. “Does he expect me to walk up to Captain America and be like ‘hey, so, I have a letter from you from someone claiming to be my father!’, as if that’s not completely weird.”

“Do you really want to risk it?” If there was even a tiny bit of truth in that letter, she didn’t want you in danger. “Or would you rather make an ass of yourself just to make sure you aren’t…I don’t know…gutted in your sleep?”

You made a face at her. “You need to lay off the true crime shows there, sweetie.” You teased. “But, shit…you’re right.” Hurrying off your bed, you grabbed your messenger bag and quickly put in the contents of the manila envelope before pulling on your sneakers. “I’ll call you when I figure all this out. Promise.” You told her, grabbing your bag, and your phone.

It was just before dusk, so you hailed a cab, not exactly trusting the residents of New York City. “Where to?” Asked the cabbie with the thick Jersey accent.

“Uh…Stark Tower?” You said, unsure. If you wanted to find a superhero, what better place to look than a tower belonging to one?

He looked at you funny in the rear view. “Okay, you got it, kid.” He agreed. A fare was a fare. 

Before you knew it, the sun had dipped below the horizon, leaving the sky darker at the top, and an orange glow in it’s wake. “Thanks.” You told him, handing him some cash. “Keep the change.” It wasn’t a lot, but he did a dangerous job, he deserved something extra.

“Thanks, kid.” He gave you an appreciative smile and a nod before you slipped out.

Standing there, your eyes traveled up the tower, feeling something like an ant. You moved towards the front, realizing that you had no idea if anyone would be there right then. However, a security guard stepped out, stopping you. “Can I help you, ma’am?” He asked, a stern look on his face.

Pulling your bag open, you grabbed the unopened letter to Steve. “I have a letter for Steve Rogers?” You were clearly nervous. “It’s from a Bucky?” You added with a small shrug.

His hand reached over to the walkie attached to his shoulder. “There’s a young woman here for Mr. Rogers. Claims she has something from Barnes.” He said seriously, making you swallow. He listened to what was being said in his ear piece before nodding. “Yes, sir.” He dropped his hand. “Come with me.” He motioned for you to follow.

You followed him without question, just wanting to get this over with. When you woke up that morning, you didn’t exactly plan on winding up at Stark Tower. Your hands gripped the strap of your bag, your palms sweating more than you’d like to admit. On the elevator, you chewed on your lip, hoping that you could give him this letter, and go home. 

“So, you have something for me?” You were greeted by Steve the moment you stepped off the elevator, the guard riding it back down.

You nodded quickly. “Uh, yeah.” Holding out the letter, you were shaking slightly. “I got it with a letter for me, and a necklace.” You told him.

He raised an eyebrow as he took it from you. “Why you?” Steve asked, curious.

“I’m not sure. He says I’m his kid…” When you saw his eyes snap from the letter in his hands to you, you took a small step back. “Look, I don’t know if that’s true or not. I’m just telling you what he said in my letter.” Your hands were up as the others approached.

Tony was the first to speak up. “Why don’t you see what your old buddy has to say, Steve?” He motioned to the letter.

His jaw was tight as he opened the envelope, his seeming almost as short as yours.

Steve-

I’m guessing you’re a bit confused. Some kid comes up to you, saying their mine. Well, she’s telling the truth. Y/N is my daughter. Y/M/N raised her alone, away from me. I haven’t seen her face to face since she was a newborn, and for good reason.

She’s not safe anymore. So, I’m asking you to look after her. Keep my girl safe. Do whatever it takes.

If anything happens to her, it’ll be your head I’m after. You’re like my brother, but she’s my little girl.

-Bucky

Steve licked his lips and folded the letter back up. “Bucky wouldn’t lie about this. And I’ve met your mother.” He said seriously.

“What?” Your eyes went from him to the others, and back. “She never mentioned that.”

His arms seemed bigger when he crossed his arms. “Long time ago. From what I recall, she wasn’t exactly on the path of the ‘good guys’.” Steve told you, any friendliness from his face having vanished.

“Come on. I think we need to have a chat.” Nat moved forward, taking your bicep in her hand. “If you’re Bucky’s kid, you being here can’t be good.” She added.

[kaeyas-beloved]

Hello Val, it's me again lol. Could I please request [ 💐 ] - buying them flowers, just because for either Kaveh or Childe? Just pick the character that inspires you more for this prompt and take your time. <3 I'll be patiently waiting because your fics are always worth waiting. - Lots of love, JJ <3

@genshin-impact-writings

(Hi me again I’m Val)

Hello JJ!! I decided to do both characters because a) I love them and b) I wanna write something for Kaveh but I also wanna provide you with some yummy Childe fluff ❤️ (also I just know Mr. Ginger Man (affectionate) would give you the biggest god damn bouquet he could get his hands on). Sending love right back at you and thank you for your patience!!

CWs: gn!reader (you/your), a smidge of angst in Kaveh’s, spoilers for Childe’s real name, Kaveh’s is shorter I’m sorry

acts of service prompts: open!

Childe

There are moments in his day where his love for you makes his heart constrict painfully and his lips form the stupidest, lovesick of smiles, his emotions consuming him whole. When he’s at work he has to put down his pen and drop his head in his hands as he fights to calm himself down from this high, because no matter how much he doesn’t want to, he has to in order to finish and return home to you.

Even then though, sometimes Childe’s feelings resurface on his walk home and suddenly he’s walking a little faster and faster and faster until he’s practically running. He told himself he’d keep going until he reached home, that nothing else was to distract him from his mission at hand, a task that goes out the window when his eye catches a lone stall.

Scanning over it an idea popped into his head, one that makes him smile and mutter a small perfect under his breath. The more his newfound plan stewed in his mind, the clearer the picture of your expression became. It would be a happy expression, one of the brightest he’s ever seen, one that makes him think that going through with this shouldn’t be a question at all. Settling his sights on the shopkeep, the male changes course, intending to be quick as to not make you wait.

No more than forty minutes later does a knock echo off your front door. Expecting the loving and boyish face of your lover, your reaction to coming face to face with a wall of flowers is justified. That is to say, your reaction being to stumble back from the door.

Quietly, as if unsure, you call his name, taking a guess that it’s him behind this grand gesture. Honestly, who’s rich enough in Snezhnaya and fancies you enough to do this besides him anyway? Regaining some composure, you hesitantly move past your entryway to just in front of the bouquet, lifting a hand up to brush again the flora.

How soft, is your first thought, the petals as delicate as your touch. Your second thought was about how gorgeous a sight it was to see flowers of all things in the unforgiving cold.

“Do you like them?” Arms encircle you, but there’s no fear in you as you rest your arm against his, the familiar red scarf hanging in the corner of your vision and his soothing voice are plenty familiar to you.

Humming in response, you look behind you, finally getting to see him after being apart all day. His nose and cheeks were a little red, and his scarf was loose to the point it could slide off his neck at any point, but other than that he appeared content as ever. “They’re very pretty, Ajax, thank you. What’s the occasion though?”

Instead of a response, be it in the form of words or a joyous laugh, his lips simply meet yours as a replacement, soft and gentle as they move against yours. Your shock is over quickly, leaning in to return his affection. Pulling you just a little closer, the male drops his voice to a whisper, breath hot against your skin, “I got them because I love you. What other reason should there be?”

Kaveh

For the most part, money is scarce for the architect. He can’t always go spending it on whatever he pleases, whenever he pleases. However, Kaveh is also a romantic at heart and has an eye for beauty. So, who really needs to budget when they see something pretty that their lover would like?

Well, turns out Kaveh does, as he finds out. Even though the blond stands before you, a single pale Padisarah in hand, all he can embarrassingly think about is how he was short by about 400 mora at the checkout. The only reason he even got a flower was because the old woman at the counter was kind enough to let him have it.

“I know it’s not much,” he begins, voice betraying how he truly felt about his lack of grandeur, “but I still wanted to get you a little something. I… hope you like it.” The man before you now seems so small compared to his usual loud and passionate self, even his hands twitch with nerves as he presents what he believes is a sorry excuse of a gift.

But you, oh, you welcome it with a smile and an eager acceptance, nose falling into the center of the bloomed plant. Just your reaction alone eases his tense shoulders, eyes the colour of fire in a sunset watching as you hurried to place the delicate thing in a safe spot. When you were done you rushed back to his side, grabbing each of his hands in yours and bringing them to rest on your cheeks, your hands remaining over his, “thank you thank you thank you Kaveh! You’re the best!”

Pressing a quick yet firm kiss to his forehead, you wrap your arms around him tight, giving him no room to return your affection… not that he could with how overheated his body was feeling. It definitely didn’t help when you tilted your head so you could whisper in his ear. However, the moment he registers your words he’s snapped out of his embarrassed state, eyes widening a fraction before softening.

“I really do love it. If you buy me one or one hundred, it doesn’t matter to me. The greatest gift is your love, no matter what form it takes.”

Truth be told, in that moment as he returns your embrace, he couldn’t have asked for a better lover than you.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @saishin-michiyoshi // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @stage-lucida // @kaeyaloml // @leena-shi

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