#like it was so shocking at first but then like okay he obviously suits everything with that face

[bromcommie]

tbh I still think Brock Rumlow was an interesting character and upon further examination way more unsettling a villain than most to me because like. Let’s be real, the second you lay eyes on Robert Redford as Pierce monologuing in his pristine suit and glass office high up in the sky he just screams Evil Politician! at you. You can see it coming a mile away. Meanwhile Rumlow is….Just Some Guy. On the surface, he’s just some side dude. He’s not enhanced, he’s not in some major position of power, he’s just someone who’s really good at what he does and seems dedicated enough to the work and functions well with his team. He respects Steve, might admire him even, but not so much that he gets starry eyed like everybody else. He’s lighthearted but focused, he’s no nonsense, he’s the everyman Steve can relate to way more than spooks like Natasha or Fury.

And okay, maybe what Rumlow does for a living is beat intimidate and kill people, but it’s not like that’s the primary objective, right, because SHIELD are the good guys and this is what Steve does now, too, anyway; except that Steve doesn’t really use any weapons other than the shield, he holds back, he doesn’t carry a gun anymore which is usually fine since he’s dangerous enough without it. But when that leaves him vulnerable, he’s covered: Rumlow’s got his six, and he does it well, and he earns some of his trust. This is familiar to Steve.

And maybe Rumlow’s a little too good, fine, maybe he shoots a guy in the head within the first fifteen minutes of the movie when he doesn’t necessarily have to and then cracks jokes immediately after but that’s alright too, because that guy had Steve at gunpoint and that guy was Bad whereas Rumlow is One of the Good Guys just doing his job, right. Rumlow’s joking around because he’s used to the violence, they’re all used to it, and this is just how it works. They’re just soldiers doing the grunt work and following orders, and this is familiar, too.

Except that they’re not soldiers and this isn’t a war, except that the work is for an intelligence agency whose job it is to hoard and steal information and monitor civilians and orchestrate and sabotage and meddle in internal and external state affairs. Except that the Good Guys, in reality, are extremely grey at best. Except that many of the Good Guys turn out to be Nazis on top of everything else, and it’s not that far of a stretch.

But when it’s all starting to unravel, you’re still thinking well maybe some of these guys didn’t know. Maybe they didn’t do it out of individual belief, and if faced with the right choice, they can be redeemed.

That is until you realize that Rumlow maybe didn’t respect Steve and what he did so much as what Steve could do if only Steve weren’t “weak” in other ways, if Steve had chosen the right side. That it not being personal is less a cop out and more a taunt the same way just following orders has always been, for Rumlow and many many men that came before him and will continue to come after. Until the vault when, by the most charitable of interpretations, Rumlow looks at the Winter Soldier letting himself be smacked around and crying and getting shocked like he’s maybe a little unnerved (if not just downright fascinated) by the whole thing, but not enough that it really changes anything for him, because the end justifies the means and it’s not really his problem, anyway.

Until Sam shows up and Rumlow looks at him like a bird of prey and says This is gonna hurt with a fucking smile on his face, and then you think: shit, man, obviously. How was it not clear from the start.

To me, what makes someone like Rumlow a good villain, even a side one, is not that he’s straight up Insane & Evil™️ or suffering from Tragic Backstory Syndrome or all hopped up on magic superstrength juice or whatever, but precisely the fact that he’s Just Some Guy with a cockroach survival mentality who operates well within the established system and just so happens to be really good at his job - a job that he might’ve even joined thinking it was for a good cause, or because he had something to prove, or simply because it gave him one hell of an excuse to be a bully. Because he either wholeheartedly believes in HYDRA or he just doesn’t give much of a shit either way so long as he gets his due in the end, and both are just as bad.

Because when you strip away all the grand scale superhero theatrics, you’ve seen this before. You’ve seen Rumlows in your school and in your neighborhood and in the military and the cop car patrolling your street. They’re the ones who sometimes say or do somewhat offputting shit but you figure it’s fine because they’re otherwise real nice or charismatic or normal looking, or maybe they work a job that’s framed as helpful or protective or inherently good despite the power dynamics at play, or they share your background and interests and you chat about the weather being crap this time of year.

And every time one of them turns out to be a violent, hateful piece of shit, you’re still somehow surprised then, too, when you really shouldn’t be.

[dizzyjelly]

Help Me Out?

Word Count: 1.7k

Summary: You're popular and you ask the smartest girl in class to help you out with your math work, and how could she say no? She was confused as you start to actually become friends. Because she didn't understand why someone like you would take an interest in someone like her.

Cw: reader cries bc of a mean teacher, kinda loser!ellie, reader fights with her fake ass friend.

A/n: this is actually based off a real life experience, I was sadly the loser in this situation 😔 also I obviously dramatized it for the story but yeahh, anyways enjoy! There will be a part 2.

You had to be the most confusing girl Ellie has ever met. She wondered why on earth you spent your time talking to her, when you were so popular. It wasn't unknown that Ellie was a lesbian, actually it was pretty much what she was known for. But you didn't seem to care.

Math was never your strong suit, in fact you'd always struggle with it. Ellie, however, was amazingly good at it. She had her heart set on becoming an astronaut one day, and so she figured that she'd have to understand math. Joel helped her to do just that, but he also made sure she excelled.

Anytime your math teacher spoke, it sounded like complete gibberish to you. You'd even cry some nights, you know on the days she would yell at the entire class about how stupid they were. It just felt like she was singling you out. And not to mention all the passive aggressive notes she'd leave on your assignments or tests. One day, you figured why not ask Ellie for help?

She was utterly confused. Why would someone like you talk to someone like her? And out of your own free will.

"Ellie? I'm really sorry to bother you, but can you help me out..?" Your voice was quiet and you sounded timid almost.

At first, she was silent. She kind of just stared at you. But eventually, she came to her senses.

"Yeah of course! What's up?" You smiled, she spoke so kindly to you.

"Here, let me just-" you got up and stood at her desk, "number 6, and basically everything after it. I just don't get it.." You sigh softly.

"Okay, this is what I wrote." She said, merely handing you her paper.

"No, I don't want to copy yours. Can you explain it to me?" You ask, looking over at her now with pleading eyes.

Ellie nodded, giving you a thin-lipped smile before she began to talk and point things out. You wrote what she told you to and hummed every now in then with understanding. Eventually she'd helped you complete the whole thing, and you were beyond thankful.

This kind of interaction would continue to happen between the two of you for the next couple weeks. Your teacher had grown.. annoyed with this behavior. For some unknown reason she just had it out for you, because when you walked into class today, she announced a seat change.

Ellie was already in class, so she got up from her former seat and stod at the front of the room along with everyone else. You made your way to stand beside her, crossing your arms out of frustration.

As your teacher began assigning new seats, you sighed. Ellie looked over at you, but said nothing. So you decided to start the conversation.

"God I hate her. She's probably doing this just so I'll fail." You whisper.

"Whay do you mean?" Ellie whispers in return.

"You've been.. helping me out lately. I guess she just can't stand to see me succeed." You frown softly.

Ellie turns to face you once again, noticing how upset you really were. She didn't know what to say, or do. So she kept quiet and waited for her new seat assignment. After a few more minutes everyone was settled in their new seats.

You and Ellie were sat just about as far away as possible. This was definitely personal. Throughout class, you struggled tremendously. God this was just what your stupid math teacher wanted.

That day, you took it upon yourself to find Ellie at lunch. If she was shocked that you'd even speak to her, just imagine how insane she found it when you sat at her lunch table. Usually she sat alone, not because she didn't have friends, but they all had different lunch hours.

She felt so entranced by you, every word you said felt like it was burned into her brain. She admired you, truly. Even if she thought she had no chance with you. Ellie figured you were straight. Everyone knew you had a boyfriend last year, until you didn't. That was beside the point. Falling for a "straight" girl wasn't the first thing on her list, but that's what was happening.

"I literally hate her!" You complained.

"I know," Ellie nodded. "She is pretty annoying."

While Ellie wasn't fond of your math teacher either, she'd lie if she was. She'd agree with anything you said. God she felt pathetic.

"Fucking tell me about it.." You scoffed.

Ellie was confused when you say with her everyday for the rest of the week, but she wasn't complaining. She'd gotten to know you better. And she was quite impressed with who you really turned out to be.

She always thought high school girls like you were mean, but you were so sweet to her. Ellie had enjoyed spending more time with you, and she had no problem helping you out with your math work too. You were starting to get the hang of it, but it still didn't make complete sense to you.

Friday was your breaking point, you were just beyond frustrated by your work. Your teacher was busy on thr phone, so you figured why not. And you stood and walked over to Ellies desk. She blushed deeply as you'd gotten very close to her and whispered in her ear.

But you couldn't have been trying to flirt, you were just trying to be discreet, right? She began to explain the problem to you, perfectly ad always. And you were ready to thank her and start working, but before you could, your teacher called out your name angrily.

"What are you doing out of your seat. You have got to be one of the worst students I've ever had. Get back to your seat, now!" This time, her words genuinely hurt you.

Ellie watched you nervously, noticing how you'd gone silent and the way your bottom lip quivered. Her eyes widened and she felt so terrible when you began to cry. Your face ran red hot as you could feel everyone staring at you.

Ellie sighed softly and stood up, unsure what she should do. But she didn't have to guess because you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around her, resting your head on her shoulder. Ellie felt so awkward, and, she felt dizzy almost. Holding her arms around you felt so unreal, but god did it feel good.

Your teacher ended up sending the both of you to the hallway. Where you'd sit against some lockers, your knees pulled to your chest and your head resting in your arms. Ellie sat beside you, crisscross applesauce as she looked over at you and waited. She was waiting for you to say something, anything.

"Sorry.. I'm just overreacting.." You'd finally whisper.

"But you're not," Ellie was quick to reassure, and she placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, "she's been so mean to you for so long. Your completely valid to be upset by her.." her voice was quiet and soft.

"Thank you.." You smiled as you whispered, resting your head against Ellie's shoulder and wrapping your hands gently around her forearm.

She'd just nod in response then try and breathe regularly, which felt impossible when you were all over her like this. God, what did you do to her? After some time passed the bell rang and you two made your way to lunch. As you walked your interlocked your arm with Ellie's, which earned you a few glares.

You were relieved to just be able to sit down and have lunch, and relax. But that peace didn't last long when one of the girls you used to sit with decided to approach you and Ellie. She sat beside you and stared at Ellie as if she were some kind of alien.

"So, this is what you're busy doing? Hanging out with.. her?" Olivia spoke with disgust.

Your brows furrowed with confusion, what was her issue? You scoffed softly before answering.

"Yeah." You begin, your tone was anything but kind, "she's way better company than any of you ever were. You guys are mean and.. fake. Ellie is nice and she actually makes me feel good about myself." Ellie watched with amazement as you talked about her so highly.

"Whatever, you're a loser now anyways. We heard you cried in class.." She started to laugh at you.

"Jesus, who cares!" Ellie finally interjects, you watch her nervously, "look I know you think the most important thing in life is whether people think you're cool or not, which believe me, you're not, because you're just like every other basic bitch you hang out with. One day you're going to realize that wow, you peaked in high school, and it all goes downhill from here. Now would you please leave us alone?" Her words came off confident and snarky.

But you saw how her hands shook in her lap. She was so nervous. You smiled at her, she did that for you. Nobody ever did that kind of stuff for you. She really was.. good company.

While Ellie had fallen for you first so clearly, you fell a lot harder. Some part of you always knew you wanted to be more than just her friend, but it wasn't until now that it really hit you. As Olivia got up and walked away, Ellie could tell how you looked at her differently.

"Ellie.." You whisper, and she nods, "you're the best." You settle on a friendly compliment, because oh my God!

You liked Ellie, you'd never expect that. Not because she was a girl, but just because she was Ellie. And it's not that she was unattractive or anything. But you two were just so different. It didn't make total sense, if any.

"Oh, thank you.." She blushed.

"Hey, let's hang out after school." You spoke with excitement, "I could sleep over!" Ellies eyes widened at that.

Immediately she thought about the two of you.. in the same bed. God what would she do. She'd have to figure it out, because of course, she agreed. You couldn't wait for the school day to end.

[flippinpancakes64]

The Cullen with a human partner who has very noticeable freckles all over his body and who is discouraged that after the transformation they will disappear.

The Cullens with a reader with Freckles

I made this a little more general to include headcanons of the Cullens with a reader who has freckles. I also made it gender neutral/not specified.

Thank you and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He loves your freckles

When you’re asleep, he has nothing better to do than count them

He loves when summer rolls around and he can watch as the sun pulls more out of your skin

If you’re ever insecure about them, he shuts that down instantly

He loves them so shut up

Now according to Stephenie Meyer, vampires lose all of the melanin in their skin when they transform

But that’s stupid so I’m gonna ignore that

When he turns you, you notice that your skin is stuck in the permanent state of winter, where your freckles are at their most faint

He tries to reassure you that they’re still visible

It takes him one entire night of kissing all of them for you to believe him :)

Alice:

She thinks they’re adorable

She wishes she had some

Makes a point to tell you that

Again, she loves the summertime because they become more obvious

One time, she drew a picture of you in art class and you were stunned at the amount of detail in which she captured your freckles

Like she got them in all the right spots, right amounts, everything

Before she turns you, you tell her that you're concerned about your freckles disappearing

She tries to convince you that they won't, but to be honest she doesn't know for sure

After she turns you, she notices that you’re pretty upset

She helps you recreate your freckles with makeup if she notices that it really bothers you

But other than that she tries her best to help you forget

She reassures you that she still thinks you are very adorable/attractive

Jasper:

He thinks they are so enchanting

He gets lost just staring at you very often

Whether that's because he's staring at your freckles or just you is up for debate-

Either way he loves them

He gets shocked around the summertime

"Did you do your makeup today?"

"No, why?"

"'Cause you've got more of those spots than normal"

When he (or Carlisle, let's be honest) turns you, he instantly notices the difference

They're not all gone, but a good chunk of them are

He's a little sad too

But he still loves you so

He does his best to cheer you up

He uses his gift to make you feel better

Rosalie:

When she was alive, freckles were considered ugly blemishes

But she never understood that

She always thought they were cute

So when she sees you and all of the freckles that you have, she is instantly in love

Another one who counts them while you're sleeping sorry

She's the only one who actually has an answer about whether or not your freckles will stay when you get turned

She still has her beauty mark, after all

So at the very least, your biggest, most noticeable ones will stay

And when she turns you, she is proven right

Obviously you're both bummed that not all of them stick around, but she reassures you that it's okay

Emmett:

It isn't the first thing that he notices about you

He sees your personality first

Jk jk jk

I mean it's just not the first thing he sees

However, when summer rolls around and suddenly all of your freckles have multiplied and they're all darker, he notices

"So... what are all of those?"

"All of what?"

"The spots on your face... and arms... and chest"

He thinks they suit you though

One day, Alice used some foundation to cover them all up to play a prank on him and he was so shocked

Almost didn't recognize you

After he turns you, he doesn't really notice the difference

You're gonna have to point it out to him

But he just tells you that he still thought you looked the same

Reassures you that you're probably the only one who's noticed that you're missing a few

Esme:

She thinks they are adorable

I can see her having had a cousin or a niece/nephew who had a whole bunch of freckles when she was alive

She always wanted some

So she adores yours

Loves to stare into your face while you sleep or whenever you aren't doing anything

When you approach her with your concern, she honestly doesn't know the answer

She never had any significant marks on her body, so she never noticed anything missing when she was turned

After she turns you, if you are upset because you're missing a good chunk of your freckles, she tries her best to reassure you that it's okay

"You had more than enough to spare anyway :)"

Carlisle:

It's not really something he noticed first either

He sees so many people everyday that at some point you stop looking really hard

But as he gets closer with you, he notices all of your spots

He thinks they are so unique

It also makes him reflect on past beauty standards

He does go on a whole rant though about the science of freckles

Melanin pockets in the skin and whatever

Unlike literally everyone else that you ask, he does actually have an answer

The most prominent of your freckles will stick around, similar to Rosalie's beauty mark, and the lighter ones that really only show up in the summer will disappear

Mostly because you're not gonna be tanning anymore lol

He comforts you with science

And of course he tells you over and over again that you are still jst as attractive as you've always been

Vampire! Bella:

She's not too shocked

From the very few very grainy pictures I could find of Renee on Google, she has some light freckles all over her face too

So it's not like they're some new exotic thing to her

But again, she feels like they suit you

Like she can't imagine you without them

When you ask her, she has no clue

Like genuinely none sorry

But she reassures you that it can't be that bad

When you do get turned and you lose some of your freckles, she tries her best to console you

"I'm sorry, really I didn't know if they would disappear or not"

She tells you that you are beautiful/handsome/attractive either way

[lazycats-stuff]

Okay hear me out, reader x batfamily okay? The reader is 2nd youngest (like 14) and recently during a mission, they got sent to alternate reality where they’re a bad guy, and witnessed themself kill the batfamily? Obviously you don’t have to write out that part if it makes you uncomfortable, but any ways. Once they return they distant themselves from the family beacuse they’re scared they’re going to hurt the family and turn out like the other evil them? The batfamily has enough of this after a while and corners them and kinda pressures them into telling what’s going on with them, and the reader kinda breaks down and says what they saw and that they’re scared they’re going to hurt their family. The batfam comforts them and tells them that, their nothing like their evil self? Somethin like thattt

Oh yeah... My poor reader is going to be traumatized.

Summary: (Y/N) gets thrown into a an alternate dimension. He didn't expect to be evil.

Warnings: murders, major characters death, but not really, alternate universe, angst and fluff,

(Y/N) had a bad feeling about all of this. He was back in Gotham, his home city. But there was something that is off. His family encountered Klarion and that's when the fighting started.

The fight was a blur for (Y/N), but he remembered that Klarion threw him into a portal. After an uncomfortable travel, he landed on top of a building, near GCPD.

And something is so off. It's too quiet for (Y/N). Now he felt like Bruce, knowing how the city felt. Was he turning into Bruce? (Y/N) shuddered a little bit, not wanting to be Bruce.

It isn't a necessarily bad thing, but still... One thing is for certain.

This is not his Gotham. Nope.

" What is going on here? " (Y/N) asked himself, trying to calibrate his comms. When he couldn't find their channel for their own comms, now he knew.

This is an alternate universe. Of course Klarion would throw him into an alternate universe or reality. Now there is a new question that he needed to answer.

What has happened with his family?

Were they still the same? Did somebody go insane? Did somebody turn into a villain? (Y/N) shook his head.

Nope. He won't think like that. He is going to hope that his family is fine. But where should he go first? GCPD? Should he find Gordon? Or his father?

What about the rouges? You know, Two Face, Penguin... Is there still Joker here? He hoped that there isn't. He didn't have any will power to deal with him.

Well, James Gordon is going to be his best choice. And besides, there is a bat signal up in the dark sky. He started moving, eager to move and get back home quickly.

Should he go to the Justice League HQ? You know, to find doctor Fate?

If Bruce was here they would have a plan set in place already and 5 different strategies how to approach this entire thing.

He landed quietly on the roof of the building, dusting his cape off. Gordon saw him and pointed a gun at him.

" What are you doing here? " Gordon asked, voice full of anger. What the hell has happened? (Y/N) stayed calm as ever.

" Okay, I'm assuming I'm not liked here. " (Y/N) said, trying to figure out what is happening.

" What the hell are you on about?! We hate you. " Gordon said and (Y/N) didn't know how to feel.

" Can I ask what happened? " (Y/N) prompted.

" Why are you wearing a suit? Are you working with Batman? After everything you have done?! "

Okay... He is a villain then. Oh no. Oh God.

" What if I tell you I'm not from here? I'm from another universe. " (Y/N) said bluntly and Gordon looked at him in shock.

" What? "

" Yup. I know how it sounds, but back in my universe, I'm a good guy and Batman's kid. " (Y/N) tried to explain and Gordon lowered his gun.

" Oh God. " Gordon said, rubbing his face.

" Now that we have gone over this, can you explain to me what the hell happened? I want to know why you pointed a gun at me. " (Y/N) said, moving closer to Gordon.

" You are a villain. You would make Joker jealous. " Gordon said and (Y/N) couldn't keep his reaction in anymore.

" What? What do you mean would? " (Y/N) asked, tilting his head.

" Joker is dead here. I made sure he burned. Then you, well, the other version, if that's even correct term, stepped onto the Gotham scene. You made a lot of waves and Batman is probably working overtime in order to bring you to Blackgate. " Gordon said, rubbing his forehead.

" I want to ask what I've done, but honestly I don't want to know. " (Y/N) said, looking at the city skyline.

" How screwed is Gotham? " (Y/N) asked, looking down at the Wayne Enterprises, the highest point in Gotham.

" Very. With you in it, even more than usual. " Gordon explained and (Y/N) couldn't help but sigh.

" Oh God. "

Gordon was going to say something more, but a broadcast from the building nearby. It was him. With his family on their knees, masks off. What the fuck?

Oh God. This a public execution. (Y/N) paled. No, nononono- A shot after shot rang out and (Y/N) couldn't keep his tears in anymore. He covered his mouth with his hand, sniffling quietly.

What has he done? Oh God, what has he done? Gordon was silent, forcing himself to stay calm with a stoic look on his face.

(Y/N) fell down on his knees, forcing himself to breathe. Just breathe. He looked up and jumped back.

" Doctor Fate? " (Y/N) asked quietly, trying to get up.

" I'm here to help you get back home. Your father contacted me, telling what Klarion did to you. "

(Y/N) nodded, standing up. He felt so lightheaded.

" Gordon? " (Y/N) said, taking a deep breath, trying to compose himself.

" Yes? "

" Honor them. Please honor them. Don't let him win. " (Y/N) requested and Gordon nodded, eyes glassy.

" Thank you Gordon. " (Y/N) said, before allowing Doctor Fate to send him back to the same universe.

(Y/N) shuddered as he was back in his universe, falling down to his knees again. He noticed that he was in the Batcave and while he is relieved to be back home, he couldn't look Bruce in the eyes. Nor his brothers.

He brushed past everyone, making a run for the locker rooms. He basically ripped the suit of off him and made a run again for his room. His brothers shouted for him, but (Y/N) didn't hear it.

He locked his room and got under the covers. Nope. He is not leaving this room for the life of him. Not happening. Patrol and any other missions are going to be out of the question.

How can he work with them when he can't even look them in the eyes?

Bruce really wanted to know what happened, but Doctor Fate didn't have an answer. Bruce knew that he would need to talk to (Y/N), but that is not going to be easy when (Y/N) refuses to be anywhere near them.

Bruce could see that the others were worried. (Y/N) has never tried to distance himself from them.

" What do we do B? " Dick asked, crossing his arms.

" We have to talk to him. "

" You know, he was taking his suit off as if it burned him. " Damian chimed in, looking down at his crossed arms. Bruce sighed quietly, waving four of his sons forward. All of them shared a hug.

" We will find a way to talk to him. We will find out what has happened to him. " Bruce said, squeezing his sons a bit tighter. After he let them go, they were all a little bit emotional. Even Damian. Damian and (Y/N) are close and it hurt him when he ran passed everyone.

He knew that (Y/N) becomes withdrawn when he is upset or angry, but they confided in one another.

" We will find a way boys. We will find a way... " Bruce said, closing his eyes for a moment.

It has been a week since (Y/N) came back and the situation is alarming. (Y/N) closed himself in a room and didn't allow anyone to enter besides Alfred.

Alfred was trying to figure out what was happening with him, but (Y/N) closed himself off. He made so many walls, so many defenses on and Alfred wondered what could have traumatized his adopted grandson this much.

Bruce and everyone else knew that they had to take this head on and make an intervention. No one wanted to see (Y/N) spiral, but he is on a good way to spiral completely out of control.

They made sure that (Y/N) had left the room. They watched him to pinpoint the time when he would be in the kitchen. After they saw (Y/N) in the kitchen they all steeped in, blocking all the exit points.

" (Y/N), " Bruce started, trying not break as he took in the appearance of his son. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked so tired. So emotionally drained. " We are worried for you. We wanted to give you some time to come to us, but you are spiraling and I won't let you go down that path. " Bruce said, heart clenching at the panic in (Y/N)'s eyes.

" Talk to us please. " Bruce pleaded with (Y/N). He knew that (Y/N) was looking for a way out, but he couldn't let him out.

(Y/N) shook his head. Bruce isn't going to yell.

" (Y/N), please. You can tell us. We are here for you. You can confide in us. " Damian pleaded and (Y/N) started crying. Bruce was mortified as he watched his son break.

" I don't want to hurt you! I don't want to become like him! I don't want to! " (Y/N) cried out and Bruce quickly stepped closer to his son, allowing him to wrap himself around him and (Y/N) refused to let go.

" Tell us what happened. " Damian said, moving closer.

And (Y/N) did. Everyone was horrified at the story and they all hugged him.

" You are nothing like him. " Jason started.

" You won't turn into him. " Dick added.

" That version sounds like an asshole. " Tim said.

" I'm going to end him. " Damian chimed in, hugging his brother.

(Y/N) chuckled quietly as he was being squished. Even Alfred joined, giving him support too.

" Now, how about you eat something and then go to sleep? You look like you are going to pass out at any moment. " Dick said and Alfred led him to a table.

[jainydoe]

Misdirection, Ch. 3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Dinner at Bar Vorgoth.

She’s somewhat shocked she’s arrived first. The afternoon had been spent listening to Classical FM, Nevarra’s Very Best All-Classical Station. She’d write down the names of the artists they played, Brahms, Chopin, Schubert, her voice lilting up and up a class or two and exaggerated as she practiced her Oh, I would simply Adore another glass, thank you, Jeeves. Neve laughed into her hair and finished placing little diamond pins, small and powder blue. Making her hair look magicked and wistful. Like a fairy dream. Rook snorted. 

“This guy knows what I’m like, now, you know. That I’m no lady. Just a fucking carwreck. Not even serious enough to get promoted to trainwreck, but hey, I’m working on it.”��

“All the more reason to give him whiplash.”

Neve’s closet was suited to her and her only, but a satin number and some gold adornments might tickle his fancy, they figured. They’d made an event of it. Rook would describe him, his strangeness, his vaguely familiar yet saran wrapped tone, down to the shoes, the way his presentation was a mix of bruised earth, ripe fruit and the dazzle in the rough, and together, they crafted Rook: Serpentine She-Devil. Rook: Angel of Death. Rook: The Smiling, Beguiling Wildling. Rook: Emmrich Devourer. Each its own box-office hit. 

Neve was a chronic gumshoe who hated cars, which meant having to take the tube to the part of town Rook never visited. Tonight, she’d deign to stalk its corners. Grace them all with her laugh and textured history. Her embellishment of monotony. Seduce them with her unflinching youth. Maybe it was in her head, but the air was colder here. The nighttime - a more familiar companion. Whatever, she didn’t need a coat. Coats were for suckers. She hoped her nipples were hard in a cute way and not sleazy as she looked up at the entrance to the place. It was a hotel. Jesus, alright. They hadn’t discussed sex. And, frankly, she was a little surprised he’d be so, well, quick about it? Nonetheless, she smoothed a hand over her hair, lifted her chin, You’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, you’re posh, and saw on the right hand side of the lobby was a restaurant. She approached. Goddamn, if these heels were any louder I’d kill myself. 

“Hi, uh,” Wrong. Incorrect. Try again. “Hello. I’m meeting someone for dinner.” 

The hostess, are they called hostesses at places like this, had a molasses stare, slow and thick and too uninterested to focus. As if saying obviously you’re here for dinner, genius. What’s this look like, the barn you hoofed from? “Name.”

Fuck. Reservations are under last names. She didn’t know his last name. Maybe it was on his profile? But she didn’t wanna check and it’s probably an alias, anyway, and this lady’s just staring and she’s so skinny and Rook’s wasting her time, there’s no one behind her but she’s, like, actively making her shift worse, so she shrugs, lifts a hand as if to say fuck if I know, bitch but instead says, “Emmrich?” She guesses it came across in a way that’s bored and unimpressed because when she says his name, the hostess straightens. She actually smiles, eyes widening. It’s fucking off-putting. 

“Ah, right this way, miss.”

Miss. Right. Okay.

They glide through the seating, tables littered with suits and gowns who don’t look her way, purely enraptured with each other. She sees a girl, blonde and grinning, just about ready to eat her date. And the way he looks at her. She wouldn’t be surprised if she was someone he paid for, too. But to him, it’s a deal. He’s managed to secure the world and she only costs a small fortune. She feeds a bite of something decadent onto his tongue, and wraps her lips around the spoon to lap up whatever crumbs he’s left for her. It feels wrong to watch them. This foreplay. This exchange. But she’s studying, so actually it’s perfectly fine and she should honor the fact she’s rubbing elbows with the greats. Rook tries to memorize everything about her in the seconds it takes for the hostess to guide her to an elevator. 

“There’s a second floor?”

“For our elite guests.”

It’s a covered patio with a single table at the center, something nouveau-medieval about it. Maybe it’s the lighting, or the fact it runs long and decorated. She wants to order but figures a guy like this will wanna order for her. Hell, he’d probably have a better handle on what she should be drinking, anyway. Maybe she’ll discover new signatures tonight. New favorites. New desires.

She should’ve brought a fucking coat.

“Manfred, please, I implore you.” He takes his round, pale face in his hands, squishing his cheeks and pressing their foreheads together. “Enough with the Cocomelon.” His laugh was more of a wheeze, fingers grabbing at Emmrich’s ears in the way that meant it was time for Papa to make him fly. Like the elephant from that movie. The one that can fly. You know it. Dingo. “Yes, yes, Dingo Daddy will help you fly.” He lifted Manfred onto his shoulders, arms tucked tight under his chin as they descended the stairs. “Let us explore, Manfred! Perhaps the two of us can find that blasted babysitter.” He hoped murmuring to himself would keep his sentiments private. A fruitless endeavor when the boy was around. Emmrich could hear his little bl bl bl-s as he tried sounding out the words. At least it’ll be enough to distract him. He’s running behind schedule and it’s ages before the doorbell rings. 

“I’m so sorry, Professor, my car ran out of gas and I had to fill it and I had this paper I needed to finish reading for a friend and-”

“Bellara, stop,” he raises his hand, and for a moment, allows her to feel the weight of his importance. “How many times do I have to remind you to call me Emmrich? Should we begin a swear jar?”

She laughs, clearly shaken. Good. He’s late and Manfred snuck into the snack pantry before dinner. This means running through the living room, iPad videos on full volume as he crafts impromptu … creations. He doesn’t mention it, out of spite, but wishes her luck, nonetheless. He’d been hesitant to hire an old student to babysit, but Bellara simply adored Manfred. Freddie. And Manfred’s taken to her. Pretends her hair, its signature bun, is a crystal ball where he can predict futures yet to be metabolized. He’s utterly enraptured by her gadgets, and over the months, has come to expect that she shares some new gizmo, some electric marvel, each time she visits, his eyes shining by how truly wonderful Princess Bell’s world can be. And as their night comes to its end,  he, inevitably, curls against her chest, dozes off with his thumb in his mouth and snores, gently, like a fresh pup. Late at night, Emmrich cries. Goes over the case files of his spoiled relationship with Johanna, as if hoping to figure out how he could’ve made her stay for their son. If she could’ve been the mother he needed. Maybe if she’d gotten to share something with him, had him fall asleep in her arms, instead, perhaps if he saw limitless futures in her, she’d have stuck around. She might not have raised him into a good man, but at least she’d have raised him, at all. Maybe that would’ve been enough. Instead of a husk, a shell, an idea of a man playing house and trying not to snuff out Manfred’s zest for life too soon. Instead, he’ll kill Rook. Buy her prime and, in exchange, offer a hollow but beautiful future. One where she can mourn the loss of her girlhood in a penthouse. Sob away the memories of him taking every bit of her, but in a clawfoot tub with lavender bubbles and a glass of bubbly on permanent standby. He knows she must be miserable, already. Recognized that bite all street rats, like him, can’t shrug off. At least he can make her miserably rich. Like those purse dogs hanging by a thread, snarling, ready to strike at the closest sign of a warm hand. 

He’s five minutes late and sweating when he strides into Bar Vorgoth, smile prepped for Patrice. They exchange no words as she takes him to his lady in waiting. The elevator thrums. 

“Your,” she pauses, and he can see her nerves spike as she realizes her near blunder, “party, has already arrived.”

“Surprising.”

That makes her laugh. He gives her a grin that says thanks for the discretion, I’ll tip well for it and steels his shoulders for his entrance. You’re fine. You’re calm. You’re loaded. You’re 

The doors open and she turns, quickly, flicking a cigarette over the balcony and waving away the very present evidence of smoke. Like a teenager caught sneaking her mom’s Virginia Slims. Cute.

“I’m sure you’ll forgive me for being late.” Yeah, good going, rub it in that she was tardy last time. No matter the fact she was literally saving her best friends from starving in the woods. What’s your excuse, old man? Life Alert take too long to show up?

She lets her head fall to the side, peering up at him through her lashes. Her makeup is glittery and soft in a way he’s seen on the television, nowadays. A modern woman. Electric. 

“And I’m sure you’ll understand if I need a quick cry before we eat. Maybe I should smash a plate, or something.” 

It’s nice that she’s having fun. That they can joke. This is a good sign. They’re already laughing things off. And it’s not at each other. Not a battle. There was always a little part of him burned and stung with. You know who. His fondest memory is when she’d tackled him in the marbled corridor of the department, exam waving in his face. “I beat you, I beat you, I beat you, Volkarin! Eat it up! Suck it, chump! You fucking peacock! What grade did you get, again?”

“An A.”

“An A MINUS! HA! Idiot! Say it! Say you’re an idiot!”

“I’m an idiot.” 

“I KNOW! HA!”

The jokes stopped being funny when she got let go from the Bureau’s interview process. Turns out, grades don’t matter more than passing your psych evals. 

Johanna was an elevator. Thrumming up and up and up until she suddenly became a surprise canon and shot you out like cheap, homemade ammo. Left her gunpowder residue on your cheeks and lit you on fire, everywhere. 

There’s a part of her, Rook, that feels familiar in that way. Like she’s a live wire ready to shock him numb and zap him into comatose. It frightens him. It makes him want to curl into his sheets and keep crying. Put on something soapy and swear off women for good. But then he pictures her legs straddling him, burrowing under the sheets as she kisses his tears away and laughs, asking if he wants to stop being a baby and take Manfred out for something sweet. 

He’s too busy imagining a future with her, taking pleasure in the fear it sparks, that he doesn’t notice until they’re seated that she’s freezing. Don’t look down don’t look down don’t look down don’t

“Would you like my coat? Or scarf?”

She straightens her shoulders, smile tight-lipped and jaw pulled taught. “That, that would be lovely, yes, thank you.” 

It swallows her and drowns him in ooey-gooey lust. It’s been five minutes, Try to act like you’ve done this before. You’re Volkarin. The one who banged their Criminology professor and ran from her husband stark naked into the night. The guy who threw the best parties, ragers, bacchanals, saddled the hottest men in class and had the stamina to show for it. Stop acting like this is primary school and Rook is the girl with the prettiest hair. Though, to be fair, it is quite pretty. Very charming in the moonlight. She’s almost vampiric in the way she glows under the barest allowance of a twilight gleam. The night has claimed her its own. It almost makes him jealous. The stars oughtta hide their fires, already. Jesus. 

His coat isn’t scratchy or cool to the touch. It’s warm. It’s inviting. She’s embarrassed by the fact she almost nuzzles against its lapels, covering herself in him. This is the nicest thing she has ever worn and it’s as white-hot shameful as it is a simmering power. But then she remembers this is probably a little hot to watch, too, and lets herself stretch into it, arms wrapping across her chest like it’s the only thing keeping her from complete nudity. “I love your coat.”

“Thank you. A cosmic aubergine suits you.” Aubergine. Aubergine. Cos-mic Au-ber-gine. The tick of the tone up then three hops down, its own, sweet hopscotch. “It’s my belief a couple should,” he’s pink, “get to know one another.” Couple? “Where are you from?”

“Here and there.”

“What do you do for work?” “This and that.” He narrows his eyes, nodding. “Well, clearly, right now I’m taking a sabbatical from saving the world to indulge in more pleasurable pursuits.”

“And what’s your idea of pleasure?”

What’s his idea of pleasure? Mahjong? Feeding birds? Nevermind, it’s paying impressionable young women to gorge on decadent food and answer inane questions on their personal lives that will be forgotten before the evening ends. Perhaps if she were rolling in it, she’d find some sick draw to it, too. “Accompanying handsome men to rooftop dinners.”

“Then it’s something you do often?” It’s probably a trick of the light, the way his eyes harden, prudish and girlish. It’s familiar. She throws him a bone.

“No.” She stares at the table between them, scratches a nail down the tablecloth. “Not as much as I hope to, anyway.”

He clicks his tongue. “Do you see yourself entertaining any other,” he raises an eyebrow, “handsome men in the near future?” 

She wants to be angry at this unexpected possessiveness. What does he know? Maybe she’s got loads of messages from old-timers and midlife freaks. Maybe she’s considering hiring a personal assistant to manage her calendar and send out dainty envelopes with polaroids and sticky lipstick kisses. Xoxo, your Rook.

But somewhere dark and untouched, she’s flattered. That they’ve spent maybe an hour together and he’s already wanting to brand her. Stamp his initials on her neck and ass just in case she planned on wandering into any nearby pastures. She’s sweet on him. Maybe there’s something to this guy. Something even more familiar than a guarded sense of self. Something pathetic and desperate. Doleful and grotesque. Penurious and suppliant and craven. Wretched. She’s practiced this smile for the past two hours, the left corner of her mouth drawing up with a fishing line, predatory and cruel in its enchantment. “Now why would I do that when I’ve got you?”

She takes note of the way he crosses his legs but sets his sight. Like this whole time, they’ve just been setting the board, and now she’s played pawn to E4. He’s as en-garde as he is impressed. She feels like a minx. 

“Good.”

Dinner is served and this character she’s worn becomes faded and frayed. He doesn’t mind. She enjoys holding her glass of wine, lifting her shoulder, taking in everything around them. It gives him the chance to take in her. Far more reserved than she’s let on. Maybe not as experienced, but a quick study. She’s got stories that outshine his. He asks her what she did before signing up for the site and she flattens her hands against the table, buzzed and buzzing with energy, “Okay, so get this-” He finds himself swallowing down gulps of air to fuel his laughter, “Forgive me, you got corralled into signing up for a fight club? Not only that, but did nothing to prepare. And then they put you up to bat with the most formidable challenger available?”

She shrugs, as if this story is one of hundreds. He bets that’s true. “What can I say, ain’t no rest for the wicked.” He hopes he won't be just one of her stories. Knows it's inevitable, but hopes anyway. She asks what he does to afford such a high society lady as herself. “Let me guess, you’re, um, wait, I got this, I’m good at this, okay, so,” she places her fingers on her temples and scrunches her nose, “Banker.” He chuckles, low and satisfied. She turns her head, staring harder. “Nah, no way. You’re too interesting to be a banker.”

“What makes you say that?”

She shakes her head, stabs a fork into her lamb and points at him. “Look at the way you dress. You’ve got on, like, what is that, a bolo?”

He places his hand over his collar. “It’s vintage.”

“My point, exactly. And this coat, I mean, way too cool for someone who's devoted their life to numbers.”

He supposes that’s true. Takes a small pride in being thought of as hip. With it. Swankified and fresh. Do the kids still say fresh? He won’t ask. “So then what’s your guess?”

She leans back, chin up. Comfortable. He takes great pride in it. “I don’t know, yet. But I will.”

When dessert arrives, she’s so focused on the display of it, the flaming glory of one’s first Baked Alaska, that he lets himself take in the sweetness of her sincerity. The truth of her joy. And his eyes melt down the way his coat has parted, making room for her chest, her full belly, fabric creasing into every bit of her like something poured. She takes a spoonful, practically salivating, and he can see her almost offer him a bite. Something switches. Her eyes shift from giving to taking. She devours the cream and merengue and cake, cheshire and aggressive. His throat is dry. “I have one more surprise this evening.”

Her eyes widen. “For me?”

“Just you.” He passes her a card key. “The beds are divine and the bathtubs are small oceans.” He hopes he isn’t being too forward. This is just a kindness. He’s a patron. A sponsor. A friend. It must be a trick of the light, the way her eyes are just. Well. Disappointed. 

“Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.”

He swells and puffs up and is downright giddy as he feeds off her excitement. She practically dashes to the lobby elevator, flashes her key at the bellhop and whispers in his ear Penthouse, please!

He catches her eye before the doors close, and in a shock to them both, she blows him a kiss. Followed by a wink. She hold up her hand, mimicking a phone, mouths out a CALL ME and, at that, disappears. The world is a haze and life but a dream on the drive home. He’s electric. He’s a sparked canon. He almost gives Bellara a kiss on the forehead when he gets home, wants to jump up onto the kitchen counter and shout I HAD A DATE THAT ENDED DECENTLY WELL AND I THINK WE ACTUALLY GET ALONG AS PEOPLE, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT!

He waves her goodbye and almost shuts the door, when something familiar lodges in his throat. That’s Rook’s car. 

They know each other. 

Good thing those stars hid their fires. 

[ilwonuu]

good for me. part one | two | three

jeon wonwoo

꧔ pairing- friend!wonwoo x reader

꧔ summary- you going on a trip with your friends is something you’re beyond excited for. you can help but think of your friend in ways you shouldn’t. he’s so shy with you. you just want to ruin him. well not before he ruins you first.

꧔ warnings- friends to lovers, wonwoo is in love with reader, reader is in LOVE with wonwoo, fluffy, they are in so much love( OKAY FUCK ALREADY), sweetheart!wonwoo, little bit of crack, lmk what else

꧔ a/n- random story i came up with…others parts coming soon!! HAPPY 400 THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS<3

a road trip to california with your closest friends. seokmin, wonwoo, and mingyu. you are beyond excited to spend time with them. you four are always together.

you love them more than anything. . waiting for mingyu to pick you up. your mind naturally fading to the pretty boy who never leaves your mind. you’re imagining how his glasses is sitting against his face. you remembering his deep voice in your ear.

“it’s good to see you.” he says giving you a quick hug. “you too wonwoo.” you smile at his touch. breathing in his scent being so close. thinking about last night’s events at mingyu’s. seeing him against the couch. laughing at something seokmin said before shifting his gaze to you. his mind thinking how beautiful you look.

he just wants to fuck you- and mingyu’s here to pick you up. pulling you out of your day dreaming. sighing quietly as you grab your bags walking to the car. you smiling at the fact you are gonna be sitting next to wonwoo for the drive. spotting seokmin in the front as you walk out to the car. getting in the car.

“our final person. we’re officially ready to go!” mingyu announces. smiling at you getting in the car. “woohoo! im so excited for the beach. let’s go!!” seokmin shouts behind mingyu’s words.

you just laugh at the two boys in the front. looking over to the boy beside you. “i’m happy your my backseat buddy.” wonwoo says smiling at you. you laugh slightly at his cheesy words. “me aswell.”

you smile back at him. mingyu and seokmin obviously noticing the exchange. not mentioning it giving eachother an amused glance.

you and wonwoo chatting and laughing over simple things during the car ride. the music low as mingyu is focused on driving and seokmin decided to nap a little bit. he is such a sweet talker.

you find yourself smiling so much more than usual. well you’re not gonna pretend he doesn’t make you feel things-. you are enjoying his company. his eyes shifting down your body as he listens to you talk.

smiling to himself thinking how pretty you are. whew this is gonna be a long trip. upon arrival to your airbnb you two we’re informed you’re going be sharing a room. it had two beds its fine. you were way more excited then you should be. he feels the same way.

not giving himself away. “you can pick which bed you want first.” he just gives you a small smile. you appreciate his kindness at letting you choose first. you pick you bed moving your stuff to the bed area. setting in changing into something more comfortable.

wonwoo exploring the kitchen of the house grabbing a drink. seokmin joining him in the kitchen momentarily. “it’s nice in here huh?” he says to wonwoo. his only response being a nod. “you okay?” seokmin asks suddenly. wonwoo just nodding slowly.

“why do i seem not okay?” seokmin shakes his head. “you and y/n are just acting..weird. like is everything alright?” wonwoo is shocked at the boldness of the situation. “don’t say- anything i just like her-“

he says quietly. loud enough for the third boy entering the room to hear. “what the- fuck did i walk into.” mingyu says chuckling slightly. “guys can you please just- shut the hell up!” wonwoo says rolling his eyes.

you finally join your friends in the kitchen. in your shorts and your bathing suit. all of the boys shifting at your sudden appearance. “what are you guys yelling about?” you laugh.

wonwoo looks at you. taking in your new appearance. “n-nothing it was stupid.” wonwoo hates that he stuttered. he wants to just pull down your shorts and eat- “so how about the beach?”

mingyu breaks the silence. you nodding quickly. “please i want to go so bad.” you’re begging for something so innocent yet wonwoo is just full of filthy thoughts. seokmin agreeing with the two of you.

“wonwoo?” your voice calling his name has his dick hard. he shook that feel away nodding. “sounds great!” he thinks he fooled you well enough. you smiling turning back to look at mingyu.

“okay then the car we go- go!” mingyu said groaning as he grabs some of the snacks you guys brought. wonwoo can’t help but think is he pervy? he feels slightly shitty. trying his best to not thirst over you. he grabs a sucker he had stored in his pocket.

opening it sucking on it as you follow him to the car. you watch as his tongue wraps around the hard candy. your thighs squeezing together as you watch him climb in the back seat of the car. you following behind shortly.

your eyes not leaving his mouth. you want him so bad. he is isn’t looking at you as you two wait for seokmin and mingyu. he looks at you suddenly. see you already looking at him. his dick constantly wanting you. “wonwoo do you have another one?” you pretend to ask looking closer at him. “sorry no i don’t-“

mingyu and seokmin arrive at the car suddenly cutting wonwoo off. “lets fucking go!” seokmin yells getting in the driver seat. “okay there better be hot people there im horny ngl..” mingyu laughs. wonwoo shaking his head. “did not need to know that” he laughs as he sees you laughing.

[justmeinadaze]

I Have Nothing (If I Don't Have You) Part 6 (Steddie X You)

Warnings: Security Dom Steddie X Sub (slightly bratty) Singer Fem Reader, SMUT, spanking, dirty talk, slight rough play (they show her a bit more of what they are into), FLUFF, they go on a date through Paris and she shows them around, they do discuss being more exclusive (as if she or they would want anyone else🙄 ), ANGST, slightly so with her talking briefly about being sober and her fears of being in a relationship again.

Word Count: 4812

“Obviously, you’re taking us to the Eiffel Tower, right?”, Steve grinned in your direction as you three walked the streets of Paris. 

“Yes but tonight when it’s all lit up.”

The day couldn’t be any more perfect for you and you were the happiest you had been in a long time. You took them around to each place you could think of that didn’t have a long line, stopping at bakeries and little shops to have them taste everything while looking for little trinkets to bring back home. 

They seemed to really be enjoying themselves which made you smile. Eddie had befriended a street musician who handed him an acoustic guitar and he sat beside him as they played a couple of songs. You took them to a vintage store where they had a blast looking at the clothes. Steve keeping trying on different hats asking you how he looked. One had a brim that three sizes too big causing you to spit out your water as you laughed at him. 

After grabbing lunch, you took them to a park nearby and had a picnic. 

“Seriously, I’m going to gain like thirty pounds off of this bread but so worth it.”, Steve chuckles as he takes another bite of his sandwich. 

“Oh, yeah. The food is phenomenal but you have to watch out for the butter and the sauces. Don’t even get me started on the chocolate.” Eddie smiles when your eyes playfully roll back.

“Did you parents show you all these places or did you find them yourself?”, he asked.

“A bit of both. The first few years I came here I basically recreated that vacation but as I wondered the streets I found more places and things to enjoy.”

“Excusez-moi.” A little girl shyly comes up to your blanket holding out a pen and paper. “May I have your…”

“Autographe?”, you smile up at her comfortingly as she grins. “Of course. Um… Quel est… ton nom?”

“Chloe.” She beams in your direction.

“I’m sorry, Chloe. My French isn’t great.” 

“It’s…okay.” Her grin grows as you give the paper back to her and lean up on your knees to give her a hug. 

“Merci, Miss Y/L/N!”

“Merci, Chloe.”

The three of you watch her as she runs back to her parents. 

“That was adorable.”, Steve smirks.

“It was. I didn’t know you had fans that were so small.”, Eddie adds. 

“Yeah, that’s another reason I want to be better. I’m supposed to be a role model for them you know?”

“And you are, honey. You’re already doing so much better and we are extremely proud of you.”

***

“Why do I have to wear a suit?!”, Eddie shouts from the bedroom as he adjusts his tie.

“Because we’re taking her to dinner, you idiot.”

“I’m just asking!”

“Plus, this will technically be our first date with her so we should look nice.”

Both men turn when they hear you exit the bathroom and their mouths fall open in shock as their eyes drink you in. Your hair was pulled up into a neat bun displaying a pair of earrings that shimmered when you moved your head. The thin spaghetti straps held up a gorgeous, black, V-neck style dress that just barely touched your ankles. When you nervously shifted your weight, the slit in the fabric exposed your leg up to your mid-thigh showing off some fancy, matching black high heeled shoes. 

“What, um, what do you think?”

“You…you…Jesus, I may be underdressed.”, Steve breathily chuckled.

“Eddie?”

“You look beautiful, princess.”

Blushing, you loop your arms into theirs as they escort you out of the hotel. When you three arrive at the restaurant, they watch you in amazement as you talk to the people in charge and an antsy gentleman leads you to a table. Steve pulls out your chair and you thank him as you take a seat. 

Both boys straighten up when a man comes out from the kitchen and heads towards you but immediately calm when you smile, assuring them that this is someone you know.

“Miss Y/L/N! It’s been so long, my love! How are things?”

“Things have been rough but they are getting better. Julien, these are my friends AND security, Eddie Munson and Steve Harrington.”

They grin as they shake his hand and he returns their smiles with a bright one of his own. 

“Who better to watch your back than a friend that loves you, ah? Now, mon amour, should we start with the usual champagne?”

“Oh, no. Um, do you have something without alcohol?”

“Hmm? Oh! How about citron pressé?”

“Sure, I trust you.”, you giggle as you shrug, watching him disappear without asking the guys if that was ok with them. “I have no idea what that is but—what? Why are you looking at me like that?”

Both men had been starring at you with a cute, goofy smile plastered on their face. 

“Nothing. You’re just adorable.”

“It’s nice seeing this side of you to. You really needed a break, sweetheart.”

The rest of the meal couldn’t be described in any other way beside perfect. They talked to you more about some positive things in their lives trying to keep the mood uplifted. Eddie told you about his love for fantasy related things like D&D which made you laugh when the other man rolled his eyes. Steve surprised you by telling you of some movies he actually really liked.

“Ok you can’t sigh aggressively when I talk about sci-fi fantasy shit but then tell her that one of your favorite movies is Star Wars!”

“It’s completely different, Munson.”

“How!?”

“It’s actually not that different.”

“Thank you, princess!”

“But to be fair, George Lucas said he made Star Wars kind of like a western so Steve may drift more towards that then regular sci-fi.”

“Ok, you’re not on my side anymore. Hush.”, Eddie responds playfully.

You did your best to tell them more happy memories with you and your family but you struggled because it hurt. Every time you stuttered through a story, though, one or both of them would reach for your hand and urge you to continue. 

After you were done eating, you kept your word and took them to the Eiffel Tower as it was all lit up. The people in charge cut off a section so you three wouldn’t be noticed or bothered which you greatly appreciated. 

“Wow, check out that view.” Steve exhaled as he took a few pictures pausing when he noticed your face as you leaned against the railing. “You alright, honey?”

“Yeah. I just wish I could stay here in this moment. I’m having a lot of fun with you two and I think this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually been…happy.”

Eddie’s palm gently reaches out to run down your back before bringing you to his chest to wrap you up in his embrace. 

“I know what you mean. Stop me if I’m wrong Harrington but we’ve never felt like this about anyone before. We really like you, Y/N.”

“We’re all in if you are.”

“You barely know me. What if I fuck up again? What if I hurt you? What if…I’m not what you thought I am?”

“She’s doing that thing again.”, Eddie murmurs to Steve as he releases you and leans against the railing. “It’s like her own brand of self-harm…or maybe self-protection?” He raises his eyebrows inquisitively and you quickly shift your gaze. “Ah yes. There it is. She keeps says ‘What if I’ but what she really means if ‘What if you’.”

“Baby, we’re not asking you to marry us or anything. What we’re asking for is MORE nights like tonight. To be able to take you out more and get to know you better and vice versa. We know you’ve been through a lot and still are. We would never push you like they do.”

“And quite frankly, sweetheart, I don’t think there could be any more surprises because you’ve already showed us you’re not who we thought you were originally.”

“Spoiled, washed up singer.”, Steve explains when you look at them in confusion. 

“When it comes to the I’s, babe, we got you covered. You slip again and want to run all over Vegas, we’ll come get you. You have one of those moments where you try to verbally hurt us, don’t worry, we got you. We have ropes and handcuffs for situations like that.” You can’t help but giggle when he winks. 

“When it comes to the you’s, you can ask us anything and we’ll answer. If there’s something you need or need to know just let us know and we can talk about it.”

Glancing out towards the city, you feel everything run through your brain at once. You knew from the moment you met them that they were different. You trust them with your life so why were you so scared to trust them with your heart?

Because everyone who’s supposed to love you, hurts you…

Do they even love you? They can’t possibly…like you said they barely even know you. I guess it couldn’t hurt to jump in with both feet.

“Ok. Can we…we keep it between us?”

“We honestly assumed you would because of the press and everything.”, Eddie answers with a small smile. 

“I think that’s another reason Simon was with me. He liked the attention from the press.”

“Hm. Well, coming from a small town where everyone was in everyone’s business, trust me, we don’t want that kind of attention.”, Steve retorts as he leans over the railing like you had. 

Looping your arm through his, you lean your head against his shoulder as Eddie holds your hand and looks out into the city.

##############

“I have a request.”

“Oh lord.”, the metalhead playfully sighs making you smile.

“Calm down, Mr. Munson.”, you giggle. “The other night I asked you two to show me how much you care about me…” They nod when you pause, urging you silently to continue. “Can you show me how to take care of you?”

Both men, who were now sitting on the couch in the hotel room looked up at you now with slight confusion. 

“When we first got together, you said you liked it rough. The other night you implied there was more to what you both were into. I want to give you what you want.”

“You do, honey.”

“You really do.”, Eddie follows almost too eagerly. 

“I still don’t think your ready.”, Steve sighs as he takes off his jacket and starts rolling up his sleeves. 

“Isn’t this all about trust? Not only do I trust you two but you should trust me to know my limits. Well…in this regard.”

The other man takes off his jacket as well, removing his button up shirt underneath along with it now donning a white tank that displayed his muscles and tattoos in a way that had you salivating. 

“Oh, come on, Stevie. We can start slow. Maybe we can show her what a punishment would look like. Something small for running away and having us worried.”

Steve sighs playfully as he motions with his fingers for you come closer. As you sit beside him on the sofa, he gently pets the back of your head while they both continue to look at you with nothing but care. 

“If you feel uncomfortable at any point, just say the safe word, ok?”

“Ok, Steve. I promise.”

He grins as his hand slides down to your back and guides your body till you’re laying across his lap on your tummy. While he flips up the underside of your dress Eddie runs his fingers through your hair, moving any lingering strands away from your face. 

“How many you think, Ed? 10?”

“10 sounds good. I think she can handle that.”

As your stomach tightens into knots with nerves, Steve’s palm soothes you as it runs down your spine and over the meat of your ass. Abruptly, it lifted and came down spanking your behind eliciting a shocked gasp from your lips. He didn’t hit you hard as it was meant to test.

“How did that feel, babe?”

“Um, odd but g-good.”

“Has anyone ever spanked you before?”, Eddie asked.

“No. Not like this.”

“Honey, I want you to count for me, ok?”

“O-O-Okay. One.”

His hand come down much harder and this time you let out a little moan especially after Steve soothes you by running his fingers along the reddening skin. 

“Two.”

“Good girl, sweetheart.”

He spanks you twice in quick secession and they both let out a groan of their own as you breathily count them off. Steve tugs down your panties, his hand coming back to travel a bit between your legs as your mouth falls open when his thumb slides between your sex. 

“Oh, Eddie. Little baby is so wet right now. I think the spanking doesn’t feel so odd anymore, huh?”

When you didn’t answer, ringed fingers gripped your hair tightly and tugged you back. 

“He asked you something, your highness.”

“Feels…good…AH! Five!”, you moaned as Steve spanked you again.

Eddie held a tight grip on you as the other boy began steadily rubbing your clit while occasionally delivering a harsh smack to your ass. 

“What number are we on, baby? Wouldn’t want Stevie to lose count and have to start all over again.”

“Mmm—Nine—Please, Steve. I’m gonna…”

You didn’t see it but they smirked at each other as he slide two fingers into your core and rapidly pumped them inside of you. Your eyes rolled as the coil snapped and as you moaned his name his hand came down one final time while you panted out that final number. 

“Good girl, honey.”, he cooed as he delicately lifted your dress over your head. “Let’s get this off here.” You keened into his neck as he sat you up and placed you in his lap while Eddie ran his palm along your legs. “Did you like it, baby?”, Steve whispered.

“Yeah, I liked it a lot. Did you like it? Spanking me?”

He chuckles under his breath, trying to stifle the moan that wants to come out at the sound of your little voice. Reaching for your hand, he places it directly on the bulge in his slacks. 

“I loved it.” Your eyes flutter closed as his lips tenderly trail up your cheek to your ear. “You like that, pretty girl? You like making us feel good?”

“M-More. Please. I can handle more. I swear.”

They glanced at each other mischievously knowing you were all riled up. 

“No.”

“Please! I can handle it!” As you begin to whine they smile and you can’t help but laugh. “You’re messing with me?”

“A little. We’re kind of curious in this headspace how far your brat can go.” Eddie’s grin grows as you climb on to his lap and wrap your arms around his neck. 

“Do you want me to be more bratty?”

“I think you’re capable of it. I work with you remember?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“Hey. In here, honey, you answer us, not the other way around.”, Steve scolded. 

The metalhead tries to keep the upper hand as you grind your hips against his own. His eyes remain heavily on yours as he licks his lips to keep any other sounds from escaping. 

“In here, sweetheart, we have control.”

“You do out there to!”, you whine as you point absently outside. “Where do I have control?”

“Stop moving.”, he says sternly.

“Make me.”

His eyes grow dark as the smile he was adorning falls from his face. 

“Stop. Moving.”

You falter for a second as his voice and demeanor throw you off guard but you remain steadfast as you continue. Steve laughs from your side before Eddie lifts you up with one arm and carries you to the bedroom. 

Throwing you on to the mattress, he holds your down with his palm on your chest as he uses his other to unbuckle his belt and free his cock from its confinement. 

“If you want to stop, just tap twice, ok?” When you nod, his fingers grip your hair as he hovers his face above yours. “Ok?!”

“Ok! Yes, sir! Tap twice!”

Steve nonchalantly throws himself beside you as he watches Eddie slide his cock into your mouth. 

“She’s so fucking stubborn sometimes. I swear.”

While the metalhead takes over thrusting his length down your throat, Steve is always alert, watching you to make sure you really were ok. They genuinely did trust you would say the safe word if you needed but neither boy wanted to push you that far. 

“Fuck, princess your mouth feels so fucking good. With all that fucking sass, I’m not sure she deserves our dicks in her pussy tonight, Harrington.”

Eddie tried to control his eyes from rolling back when he felt you groan around him. 

“Did you have something you wanted to say?”

“Please. I’m sorry, Eddie. I’ll do whatever you want. I promise I’ll behave.”, you beg as you shift up to your knees and continue stroking him with your hand. “Please. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.”

Pinching your cheeks between his fingers, he brings your lips to his before firmly pushing you backwards onto the bed. 

“Go show Steve how much you’ll behave.”

As you crawl over to the now naked man, you tenderly kiss his stomach making him smile as he strokes your hair. Delicately running your tongue along his slit, he moans as he pulls your hair into a ponytail with his hands and watches you fully take him into your awaiting mouth. 

Eddie jostled you around a bit till your ass was fully on display for him and you both whimpered as he guided his cock into your entrance. The warmth of his chest encases you as he leans against your back and kisses your shoulder. 

“Come on, sweetheart. I know you can take him better than that especially with the way you run that sassy mouth.” Taking over Steve’s hold of your hair, he guides your movements making you gag and drool as the man mewls with pleasure. “Atta girl. There you go.”

Eddie rolls his hips hard, roughly nudging against that tender spot inside of you that has your eyes rolling back. 

“Is that the spot, pretty girl?” Pulling your head, he forces you to look at him. “Is it? Right there?” You struggle to form words as he continues to grind against you. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Ah! Y-Yes, there. D-don’t stop. Please…”

The metalhead grins as he pushes you back down on Steve’s cock before releasing his hold on your hair to grip your waist as he leans back on his knees and pounds his hips into yours. 

“G-Good girl, honey. Fuck. You take us both so well.”, Steve coos as he pets your head.

Eddie’s fingers slide underneath you, rubbing fast circles into your little bundle of nerves, driving you crazy in the best way as you throw you head back in pleasure. 

“FUCK! Eddie please!”

Ringed fingers wrap around your throat and pull you up to your knees as you lean against his shoulder. 

“That’s right, baby. Say my name again. Who’s making you feel this good?”, he murmurs into your ear as he slams into you harder. 

“Eddie! I’m…Eddie, please…”

Your hand takes hold of his wrist as your other clings his hair while your arm wraps around his neck. His fingers move faster to match his pace while you continue chanting his name until the ball drops and your body trembles against him as you cum. 

“Fuck me.”, Eddie groans, shoving you back down against the mattress and holding your wrists behind your back as he chases his high. 

Grunting above you, his rhythm becomes sloppier and you mewl as you feel him release his seed inside of you. 

“Good girl, princess.”, he praised as he gradually pulled out of you and kissed any part of your skin his lips could reach. “It’s Steve’s turn, sweet girl. Whenever you’re ready.”

Your head shot up in search for him and as your eyes met his soft ones, his fingers reached out to caress your sweaty face. When you nod, he motions for you to come closer, taking hold of you under your arms and scooting you both up closer towards the pillows. 

“Come here, honey. No, the other way.”, he instructs as you started straddling his waist. After turning away from him, he guides you down till your back his against his chest. One of his strong palms holds on to your chest as his other holds the base of his cock and runs to along your dripping lips between your legs. “Jesus. Eddie made you feel real good, didn’t he, baby?”

Nodding, you turn your head to kiss his cheek and he moans as he breaches your entrance, sheathing himself inside of you with minimal resistance. As he thrusts his hips up against you, his fingers move around to massage your nub as the hand on your chest takes hold of tit making you growl in ecstasy.

“Steve! So…so deep…oh god.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, Y/N?” Picking up his pace, the bed begins to move underneath you as he clings to your sweaty, messy frame. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s our girl. Your pussy is just fucking clinging to me, pretty girl, God damn.”

 Pushing up, you balance on your hands as your hips push down to meet his. 

“Can you see it? My cock disappearing inside of you?”

“Steve, please. Please!”

Tugging on your hair, he pulls you back against him, hugging your tightly as he thrusts into you harder. The sound of skin hitting skin fills the room and your eyes roll back as you drag your nails against his flesh.

“I’m…I’m…”

Without warning, he shoves against your back pushing you up and pulling himself out of you, yanking your hips backwards till your pussy was hovering over his face. Roughly, his hands pushed you back down, urging your lips over his cock as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you still as he his tongue devoured you. 

Your hips grinded against him as his head moved quickly from side to side causing you to lift your head and scream as you came. As he continued to lick your clean, you bobbed your head around his length wanting him to feel as good as he had just made you feel. 

His grunts reverberated in your cunt as he pumped his hips upwards till you felt rope after rope of his spend hit the back of your throat.

Falling to the side, you both panted till Eddie’s voice broke the silence. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. Just put your feet by my face.” You giggled as you lifted your leg and touched his nose with your big toe. “Ew, gross. With these beautiful pedicured, toes. Still purple, I see.”

“I like purple and no one is looking at my feet that closely in an arena style concert.”

“Do you want to take a bath, Y/N, or a shower?”, Steve asks.

“I want to curl up into a cocoon and sleep for 100 years.”

“Ok, bath it is.”, he grinned as he rolled over the side and lifted you into his arms. 

While he got everything ready, Eddie’s hands lightly gripped your shoulders and tilted you forward. When your eyes shifted to the mirror, you realized he was looking at your behind.

“It doesn’t hurt. I mean, it’s sore but…”

“I figured. I just need to take a look and make sure you don’t need any ice or anything. I’m sure you’ve noticed but Steve Harrington has big hands so sometimes he unintentionally leaves marks that last for a couple of days.”

“Part of the reason I ask questions.”, he winks as he guides you into the water.

“No one has ever asked me questions before or even done any kind of aftercare. I like it. It makes me feel cared for. 

“We do care… a lot.”, Eddie smiles as he holds up your hair while Steve continues to clean you. 

“Is this normal for you two? The shared partner thing?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘normal’ but we’ve done it before. Never with a client, however.”, Steve sighs. 

“So…this could look bad for everyone if people found out?”

Both men stopped moving as they gave you their full attention. 

“Yes. And not just because of the press.”

“People may not hire us anymore if they thought our judgment could be altered when it came to protecting them.”, Eddie followed in a serious tone.

“Are you implying Mr. Munson, that your judgment in keeping me safe has now changed?”

“I’m saying, Y/N, I would take a bullet for you but, for example, us keeping you sober isn’t a part of the security job description. If…If you wanted to get drunk right now we shouldn’t have any say in that…”

“Unless it leads to you roaming Paris in your underwear or makes someone want to hurt you.” Steve glances over your serious face. “What are you thinking, honey?”

“I just…I see what you mean. I wouldn’t want either of you to take a bullet or get hurt because of me. I’d rather it be me…”

It had been a while since you saw their eyes shift into this particular authoritative glow. Steve almost too roughly cupped your cheeks in his hands as he forced you to look at him. 

“Don’t ever think or let us hear you say that again. It’s our job to keep you safe not the other way around. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, I understand.”, you whisper as your hands takes hold of his wrists. 

“Y/N, like I said, we care about you but if your safety is on the line BECAUSE of us then we would end this right here right now.”

You pushed down the urge to cry at the thought of them leaving you. They had done so much for you in the short time they had been a part of your team. 

“I promise I won’t interfere. I trust you both to take care of me.”

Steve’s eyes flick to Eddie’s for a moment before he kisses your forehead and lets you go. 

##########

The following Monday, the three of you were sitting in your manager’s office waiting for him as he burst through with Sarah in tow. 

“Well, look who decided to finally grace us with her presence. How was the vacation, Y/N?”, Jack sassed. “I don’t know why you two are even here. You’re fired.”, he gestures towards the boys. 

“No they aren’t.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I said no they aren’t and you lower your voice when you speak to me!” Sarah smiled from her seat as the men on either side of you contained their excitement for you. “Jack, I’m tired. You were one of the ones that kept pushing me to get sober and now that I’m trying…I shouldn’t be on tour right now especially not with people like Mark shouting at me every 10 seconds. I need time to really have go at this.”

“Y/N…”, he sighed. “We’ve had this tour set up for months. Now I’ve put up with a lot from you but—”

“But nothing. I’m telling you no. I need a break. I can do interviews and keep working on the album. I can do little shows here but I can’t do a country wide tour right now.”

“Y/N, listen to me. Hear me. If you do this, if you cancel this tour, I will be forced to drop you as a client.”

You straighten up as you exhale, tapping into that sassy girl that resides within you. 

“So be it. Sarah? Have you thought about being an agent?”

“Me? Oh, um, I mean…”

“You’re honestly the only person I trust who has always had my well-being in mind. I’ll pay you what I pay Jack and then some.”

She smiles as she glances towards your now former agent. 

“I guess I just got a promotion.” You both stand, giving her a big hug before she pulls back to cup your face. “I’m really proud of you. I’ll come by later today and we can talk about a statement for the tour.”

“Y/N, please! Don’t do this! Look, why don’t you sit down and we can talk about this rationally.”, Jack begs. As he reaches for your arm to stop you from leaving, Eddie swats it away. 

“I’m sorry, sir. You aren’t allowed to touch Miss Y/L/N.”

“But if you would like to speak with her, feel free to call her agent Sarah to set up an appointment.”, Steve grins as they both follow you out of the office. 

#############

@rckstrbee @melodymishahiddlestan @strangerfreak

@siriuslysmoking @micheledawn1975 @cositaslua

@munsonmoonshine86 @unfocused81 @paleidiot

@dad-steddie @aol19 @strngrlytn @mrsjellymunson

@needylilgal022

[mouthfullofmunson]

Eddie is the naked friend

He’s just more comfortable naked than he would be in pajamas, sweatpants, or just his boxers.

He claims he likes to let everything “breathe”

Normally he’s alone, so when he’s in the trailer he walks around naked, not thinking much of it since it’s been his routine since the dawn of time. Get home, strip naked, take a nap. That’s usually his after school routine.

His girlfriend was there a lot of the time too and she obviously didn’t mind

It was never a problem until he lost track of time, took too long of a nap and went out to the kitchen for a snack only to find his uncle there as well. No words were exchanged, just a shocked look from Eddie and Wayne shaking his head before turning away, Eddie just walks back to his room so he can put some clothes on.

Or when this friends were coming over and he opening the door and greeted them with his dick out. All of them yelling and shielding their innocent eyes before Eddie looks down, “oh yeah, let me go put some clothes on.”

He’s comfortable naked, he doesn’t really care who sees. He’s the first one to strip in any situation

Someone jokes about skinny dipping? He’s yanking his shirt off, pushing his pants down and running for the water, leaving them with nothing but the sight of his bare ass while he sprints toward the water

Someone dares him to streak? Why would he care? It’s the human body let the world see it.

When he goes swimming with the boys and they forget their swimming trunks he’s stripping down and getting in the water, or sunbathing with his dick out

He ignores all their complaints until Steve tells him he had a nice ass, he appreciates that one

He’s even convinced his girlfriend to “just wear her birthday suit”

And y/n agrees, with hesitance

But soon she fell into his routine, stripping down once they are back at his trailer after

Being naked with his wasn’t awkward, more comfortable, or not even a thought, really.

They just took a well deserved nap, cuddled, fucked, watched some movies, just lounged together

But Eddie has a proud look on his face once he realizes he had convinced Y/n to be an “amateur nudist” - his words not hers

“It’s freeing isn’t it?”

“Totally”

“You’re more comfortable than you would be on pajamas”

“You’re so right. I don’t know why I ever wore clothes”

And he obviously loves it, he gets to see all of her anytime he wants, he gets to get his hands roam all over her, and just admire how beautiful he is

He loves every freckle, mole, scar, stretch mark she has

And she embraces the fact that their time together is only spent naked until they move in together, “Eddie put your dick away the curtains are wide open!”

Okay that’s all the thoughts I have

Let me know if you have any

:)

[chestnutninny]

5th Times The Charm

Request- 5 times she knew she was falling in love with Elizabeth Donnelly

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

One

Your first time in Judge Donnelly’s courtroom. You drew Elizabeth’s attention straight away, your nerves more than evident as you sat behind the desk, wringing your hands together as Casey Novak introduced you both to the rest of the court.

“I’m Senior ADA Casey Novak, and this is my second chair on the case, Y/N Y/L/N.”

Casey started the case off strong, but Elizabeth was not prepared for when your turn was up. Your tailored suit clung perfectly to you, flaunting your curves in the most beautiful way she could possibly imagine. She was shocked by your sudden confidence you held as you strutted around her courtroom, bringing the suspect the team had arrested to a sobbing mess on the stands in front of the jury. 

You looked over at Casey as the suspect admitted everything he had done and she nodded at you, as Judge Donnelly’s gavel echoed through the courtroom, sentencing the man to 25 years with the possibility of parole. You glanced over at the Judge as you began to pack up your belongings into your briefcase, a genuine smile on your face, to which Elizabeth averted  your gaze with a blush on her face. She didn’t know what was happening to her, she had never felt like this before, butterflies erupting in her stomach from the look you had given her.

Two

You exited the elevator onto the floor where Casey’s office resided, checking your phone for any news on the case you had just been given. Your other hand was being occupied by manilla folders. You had your head down as you walked through the corridor, only looking up at your name being called. But you were too late to react. 

Coffee splattered all over both of you, soaking your crisp, white shirt. You looked up to who you had bumped into, the colour draining from your face when you realised that you were standing face to face with Judge Donnelly. You started to stutter out an apology, your hands shaking as you set down your phone and files onto the floor beside you. You reached into your briefcase, pulling out a packet of tissues.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” You rambled, as you pulled a tissue from the packet, reaching out to dab at her freshly-stained tailored suit.

“It’s okay.” She gasped at your contact, before offering to lend you a new shirt from her office. You ultimately agreed, and followed her lead to her office.

She reached into a drawer in her desk and pulled out a neatly folded, blue shirt, which you gratefully took from her. Her eyes trailed down your body and her mouth went dry at the sight of the outline of your bra, which was very visible through the soaked shirt, which clung to the curves of your cleavage. And then, her very audible gasp that escaped from her mouth when you started unbuttoning your shirt before her, sliding it down your shoulders.

She ran over to the other side of the room, adjusting the blinds to her office, and also using it as an excuse to avoid staring at your newly exposed chest. When she turned back around, you had composed yourself again and looked smart and professional again in the shirt she had lent to you. You smiled as you walked closer to her.

“Thank you, Liz.” You smirked at her as you saw her chest heaving under her still stained shirt, and you reached out your hand to squeeze her forearm as you slipped out of her office, your files in hand.

Three

Some months after the incident, Elizabeth had finally found the guts to ask you out for a date, admitting that she had liked you for a while. Obviously, you agreed because you’d be a fool not to. You had both been dating for a while now and she had invited you over rto her large house, complimenting her home and how beautiful it was. 

After your homemade meal and wine, she led you to her room, where she pushed you onto the bed. The moan that left your mouth was all the consent she needed and started unzipping your dress, pulling it down your body. You helped her take off your underwear and she couldn’t help the moan that escaped her at the sight of you, layed out bedford her completely nude for her eyes only.

Seeing you in your purest form made her fall for you even more.

Four

“Baby, you’re sick. I’m sure they can find someone to fill in for you today.” You tried to persuade your girlfriend. She had been up all night coughing and wheezing with the flu. When you woke up this morning, her eyes were watering and her nose was stuffy and running.

“I’ve got court, it’s important.” She rushed around the bedroom, gathering all the items that she needed to put in her bag for work. You reached out to hold her back. You placed the back of your hand on her forehead, checking her temperature.

“Liz, you’re boiling up. Please, just have the day off, I’ll even look after you.” You said suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows.

She chuckled before erupting into a fits of coughs, to which you rubbed her back. She collapsed back onto the bed and you threw a blanket over her hunched body. You went to the kitchen to brew her a cup of tea and when you returned, her work clothes were strewn across the floor, her satin pyjamas now residing on her body. 

“Thank you for looking after me, my love.” You looked up at you as you set down her tea on the bedside table, before reaching for the TV remote.

“You don’t need to thank me for looking after my girlfriend.”

Five

Your nerves rattled through your body as you stood waiting at the wooden doors to the church. Despite being nervous though, you were extremely excited to see your soon-to-be wife standing at the end of the aisle. You thought about the way that her suit would be hugging her perfect figure, highlighting how truly gorgeous she is, and the smile that would be residing on her face, accompanied by the glistening of tears in her eyes.

You were pulled from your thoughts as the doors swung opening, the guests’ heads turning to face you. You walked down the aisle, your parents linking either one of your arms, and you focussed on your fiancee who currently had her back turned to you, waiting until you got closer to the front of the hall. As though she sensed you walked behind her, she spun on her heel, her lips splitting into a giant, genuine grin as she spotted you before her.

“Wow.” You heard her mutter under her breath, looking you up and down, appreciating you in the best way possible.

You finally stood opposite her, and reached for her hands, which were shaking.

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“I do.” You confirmed, tears running down your face.

“I now pronounce you wife and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

Liz pushed your veil over your head to reveal your face, and pulled you closer by your hips. Her lips gently pushed against your own, her hands coming up to cups either side of your face, holding you close to her body. Despite the time you had both spent together, the kiss was by the far the most passionate and full of love and emotion.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Liz.”

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

Taglist: @borinxnovak @zolofts @lolololalalala @chloeelou02x (join my taglist here).

[lemonnsss]

Moral of the Story Chapter 6

A/N: School is pain. ALSO- I changed MC’s(?) I’m universe name to make it more GN

Warnings: Trypanophobia

Mots Masterlist

Taglist: @vicmc624 , @mostlymarvelgirl , @yvonneeeee, @beetlejuicesupremacy , @moonlightreader649 , @whattheduckisupkyle , @chrisevans-realwife, @nekoannie-chan , @mrsbarnes32557038 , @imyourbratzdoll , @weallhaveadestiny

Word Count: 1.2k

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” A bright blue light accompanied by the sound of the Iron Man suit’s beam powering up came as a shock, seemingly out of nowhere.

She brought her arms back up and turned around, shocked, obviously not expecting his appearance.

“You know, if you’re going to kill someone, then at least don’t call their boss to let them know their assistant’s awake. Amateur move, honestly. Although, I guess this would be your first time intentionally killing someone.” He moved his other hand languidly, illustrating his point.

Her hand moved down again, the needle almost grazing my skin, “You don’t understand. I don’t have a choice.” Unspilled tears broke her voice.

“Everyone has a choice, though the other option may not be so appealing.”

She started shaking her head from side to side and let the syringe drop against my skin, “You don’t know what it’s like to be so poor that you are used to the feeling of borderline starvation. To work two or more jobs so you don’t end up on the streets.” She couldn’t help but let the tears flow. That much was evident despite her face being turned away from me.

“So, your loyalty lies with money? How much did they pay you?”

“About forty thousand euros, enough to afford my son’s treatment.”

“What? Isn’t healthcare free in Europe?” he shifted his weight onto his other leg.

My heart was pounding in my chest so hard it felt like I couldn’t breathe. Despite that, I was breathing too much too fast. I did everything I could to stay focused and present as they spoke. I was trying to prevent myself from hyperventilating.

“... It is. He is very sick. The specialists are in America. They are his best chance.”

His features softened, still firm, yet now more sympathetic, “I can’t say I know what it’s like, financially I mean, but my mother died when I was seventeen. If I were alone in a foreign country when I discovered she wasn’t coming back. I don’t know what I would’ve done. Put the syringe away, and I’ll put double in your account. Does that sound okay?”

I couldn’t understand why Mr. Star-Tony, was doing this. Eighty-thousand euros? That’s what- fifty-six, fifty-seven thousand dollars? What could he gain from this? Is he doing this as an act of charity?

She looked at me, tears streaming down her face, staining her shirt, "They know where he is, or at least where to look. I can't put him in danger." She turned back to Tony, "I'm sorry."

The needle plunged through my skin unnoticeably initially, the sharpness of the needle to blame - then, not even a second after its insertion the entire area stung with a pinch.

If I wasn’t shaking before I was shaking now. My whole body shook as the threat of my death was coming closer to fruition. Whoever ordered my death had succeeded.

The high-pitched hum that had previously filled the room dissipated with a high shriek and a beam of bright blue light. Her arm was blown off along with the plunger of the syringe. Her arm, the muscle structure, tendons, nerves, everything that had been attached to her not even a second ago was now incinerated, leaving nothing but the blood that was spurting across the bed. 

She cried animalistically at the burnt-off nerve endings screamed out in pain, her blood spat out drenching the fabric of my hospital sheets and the floor beneath us.

The syringe was still in my arm. I expected the morphine to flow out of the needle; instead, my bloodshot up through the needle, mixing with the pain meds. I couldn’t move. Tony dashed over to me, ignoring the woman writing on the ground, and pulled what remained of the syringe before an air bubble found its way into my bloodstream. 

A little blood came out of the insertion point but Tony pressed his armored hand around, stopping the overall, minor blood flow.

Finally, another nurse ran into the doorway looking into the room, he gasped slightly, face turning white, at the sight of his coworker on the ground, her blood surrounding her.

He ran over to her, grabbing gloves and a tourniquet along the way, “What happened here?”

“Your colleague tried to kill my assistant.”

His head jolted up, “What? Maria attacked you? I-I’m sorry. You must know she hasn’t been in a great mental state recently. She isn’t normally like this.”

 “I’ll be requesting a transfer to a different hospital in the area, I’d also like to recommend telling your manager that I’ll be suing until they are transferred though I will not be leaving their room which I hope will be changed. Okay?”

After the nurse, whose name was Maria apparently, was taken out of the room to fix the end of what remained of her arm I was taken to a new room where I took a shower and returned to a new bed. The only people in the room were myself and Tony. Now felt like the best time to pop the question that had beset in my mind.

"Why did you do that?" He looked up from his phone, swiveling his head to the door I was standing beside.

"Do what? You'll have to be a bit more specific."

"I don't know. Maybe shooting a person's arm off?" He raised a brow, my sarcasm not lost on him.

"You're the first person who hasn't tried to jump my bones, who's been offended at the notion of it, in a few years. If you died, Pep would kill me. Simple as that." He shrugged his shoulders before leaning on one of the arms of the chair, “How did you transfer the gunshot wound from my body to yours? And why would someone pay to have you killed, or at least subdued? And are those questions related?”

I looked down at my feet, “I don’t know why someone would try to kill me. And I don’t know if it’s related, but I would assume yes.”

“Hm…” That was all the response I got.

It’s been about a year since I started working for Mr. Stark. Thankfully, the topic of how I healed him hasn’t come up again. His security team got buffed after the incident and I got a bonus plus the sign-on bonus plus my first month's salary - the total of which, after taxes, was more than my yearly pay from Xaviers. Things were calm.

When I came into work today the main door to Mr. Starks office was locked. It wasn’t unusual. He rarely came into work, so when he did it was typically earlier than I came in. I went to my office to finish up what I could for this week's paperwork.

A quiet ring came from the in-office phone, Mr. Stark’s line. I picked up the clunky handset- which probably hadn’t been replaced since the nineties- “Hello, Mr. Stark-”

“For the last time, it’s Tony. Stop it with the, ‘Mr. Stark’ nonsense.”

“Apologies, Tony. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“Yeah, do you mind coming into my office? There’s someone for you.”

“Of course, give me just a moment.”

I stood up and flattened the creases in my clothes before walking through the door that joined our offices. A man was wearing all black with an eyepatch standing in front of Tony’s desk.

“Hello, Mx… Eirsson?”

“Yeah, a bit of an odd last name, I know. Pardon but, what is this about?”

“My name is Director Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D.” 

[salty-jade]

Steps: Hand Holding

Pairing: Tom!Peter Parker x Fem! Reader

Theme: Fluff, just fluff.

Summary: Peter wants to hold hand with you, but how are you going to do that without exlpoding every single time he touches you?

Note: Okay, I'm back at it again. I think... Tbh this is sort of based on my own what if of myself once I have that special someone. also, I did this all in one go, so no edits whatsoever :D. If there is something triggering in this pls let me know!

Everyone in you circle of friends knew you had the biggest crush on Peter Parker. Obviously they didn’t know why since he was sort of a nerd and a geek at the same time. Well for you, that wasn’t a deal breaker since you liked him because he was just him. Loving, caring, sweet and if you look closely, actually handsome. Nevertheless, your friends were supportive and tried everything to get you two together.

So it came to no surprise for them that you two ended up together. Though, it was really because you discovered his secret identity by accident when you were taking out the trash at the same alley way where Peter would change into his super suit. Plus point for you since you saw his bare torso, which you swore justified your case on how handsome he was.

Still, because of that incident, you two became closer, and bloomed into something more. So now your friends are gushing over the possible things you and Peter would do as a new couple. Eat lunch together, walk to class together, talk about each other to other people, hold hands.

Wait.

Hold hands?

As in you and Peter’s fingers locking together while swinging your arms as you both cross a field of daisies???

Nope. Nope. and NOPE!

If Peter had a big secret to keep from the whole world, you had one too. Well, it’s not as huge as Peter’s but still something that you don’t want other people to know about. Peter’s your first boyfriend, therefore you’ve never really been physical with a guy before. The only people you could tolerate physical touch was the men in your family.

“Oh, don’t forget protection ok?! tell him to wrap his junior before sticking it in”

“Also, consent is important for both you and him okay girl? also…”

While your friends kept giving you tips on how to essentially ‘turn on’ your boyfriend and please him, all you could think in your head was about how you were going to even hold hands with him when he asks. forget sex, you could die just from holding hands!

So far, Peter hasn’t really touched you in anyway whatsoever. Heck, when you both confessed, Peter couldn’t event try and land a kiss on you because suddenly his senses alerted him of a villain so he had to drop you off somewhere safe before going out to battle.

The moment he wrapped his arms around your waist to hoist him up, your stomach was doing flips, face becoming different shades of red, and your brain turned into mush. You had to dunk your head into the bathtub to cool yourself from the heat of your face. You thought something was wrong with you. You thought it was weird for someone to be overstimulated with just a few touches with your partner. The romcoms you watch in your laptop certainly made it seem so. It made it seem like an amazing experience where you and your partner could share sweet moments together and just enjoy each other’s presence and act like it was only you two in the entire world. Well, both your heart and mind could not handle that much intimacy.

Was it because you’ve never date anyone before? or was it because you just have high expectations so your afraid of underperforming. Regardless of the reason, it was better to come clean to Peter rather than just keeping it to yourself.

Just as you made your self-declaration, you felt and hand on your arm, pulling you closer to another person’s body.

“Hey there Y/N!” your body, as if it was on auto-pilot, jumped at his touch and voice and instinctively backed a bit to hard unto your locker. Causing it to temporarily shake both the locker and somewhat your body due to the shock. Peter, being the lovely boyfriend he was, felt bad since he thought it was his fault for startling you and tried to hold you to help soothe the pain. Before he could do that though, you again backed away from him and kept a safe distance from him so he couldn’t touch you so you wouldn’t turn to mush.

“Hey! Hey Peter! umm how’s it going?” the fact that you tried to deescalate the situation to make it seem less awkward, just made the situation more awkward. Peter could only raise a brow at you and replied to your question.

“Everything’s good. yeah. I just wanted to see if you would want to walk to AP calculus together…” He said. The sound of guilt and confusion lingered in his voice as every time he raised his hand even slightly you would sort of jerk away from his touch.

“sure sure. we can do that, I just need to…” you looked around your surroundings to find a place where you could cool down for a bit before getting to class. Luckily, you found a bathroom.

“go to the bathroom real quick that’s all! So wait for me okay?! great!” before he could even reply, you dashed across the hall and into the bathroom to spare you the embarrassment.

One of your friends just patted Peter in the back to help reassure him that that was just who you were. “don’t worry, she LOVES you to death. she’s just shy that’s all.” and with that, your friend group had dispersed, each going to their own classes for today.

While you were in the bathroom checking the mirror to see if your face was still red from being touched by Peter. It wasn’t that Peter was not allowed to touch you. In fact, you really wanted to hold hands with him, but your body just reacts in the weirdest ways and your brain perceives it as you being overstimulated.

Before going out again, you took out a few books from your bag and carried them instead, just so could occupy them and avoid holding hands with Peter.

Peter saw you coming out of the bathroom, and he gave you his honest smile and walked up to you.

“I can carry those books for you if you wa-”

“NO!” ok that response was too fast, let’s try that again.

“I mean, no need. It’s ok! besides, you wouldn’t want people to know about the ‘thing you have right’?” you let out a dry chuckle, knowing that your excuse was the dumbest thing Peter might have heard in his entire life.

The whole walk towards class was weird in general. Peter kept wanting to try and find an opening to at least hold your shoulder or at least offer to carry your stuff so he could hold your hand, but something tells him that you were intentionally avoiding that opportunity for him. In the end, when you both made it to your seats in class, you both just exchanged notes while you tried to send him cute doodles so that he didn’t feel too bummed out about not being able to hold your hand.

You knew he didn’t deserve this treatment. He should be able to hold his girlfriend, kiss her whenever he wanted to. But, you just couldn’t handle the overload of affection from him. He was like the sun, while you were the midnight sky shying away from everything.

You both went on with your days as if you were just friends. Peter still tried to find an opening to at least graze your hand but, nothing. He sensed there must be something wrong with you. Maybe he was imagining things when you actually confessed that you liked him? was he reading the signals wrong? whatever it was, even Peter couldn’t solve this with only his intuition only. It was best that he asked you directly instead.

As soon as you both stepped out of the school, where a good few inches of empty space were between you and Peter, peter turned to you before you had the chance to escape the awkward situation.

“Can we talk?” he said. Your instincts were telling you that he probably wanted to talk about what happened this morning and your over all behavior today. I mean who could blame him, the whole day you’ve been avoiding his touches and advances the best you could so that you wouldn’t explode from an overload.

“y-yeah sure…”

Peter and you agreed it be better to talk about it back at his place since May wouldn’t be around the apartment. Though, it didn’t help you calm your worries since this is more about how are you going to explain it to Peter rather than having to go through May’s constant teasing of the two of you.

And now here you were, in his apartment.

alone.

together.

on the couch.

.

.

.

NOPE NOPE NOPE! even if there was no contact between you two, for some reason this situation alone was enough to make you overload. Even a blind person could tell you were nervous about this whole situation. You were as stiff as a tree, you wouldn’t even let yourself relax into the couch and sat in an upright position with your legs shut close together, while your hands were a=placed on top of them in the form of fist. Where even your knuckles started to turn white. Ok, now is a good as time as any for Peter to bring it up.

Peter sat back down on the couch after he grabbed you both something cool to drink. For some reason, he knew this conversation was going to make you burn up.

“Okay, umm… did I do something wrong?” your head shot up to look at him the instant he said those words.

“WHAT?! NO! I-I mean…. no… well, I mean there is something wrong but it’s not you per say… rather,” and there you go, falling a part as soon as you opened your mouth. God, you wish you could just crawl into a hole and die rather than explain the weirdest thing about you. But as you looked into his eyes. his warm brown eyes, you knew he deserved to know. So, you took a deep breath and tried to carefully construct the next few sentences in your head so that Peter can understand you.

“just so were on the same page, you noticed I’ve been trying to avoid… touching you right?”

All Peter could do was nod at your statement. He decided it was best if he added some words to it as well.

“Yeah, and I mean I get it if you don’t want us to be physical because if that’s your preference then by all means go-” You waved your hands in the air to tell him to shut up for a bit.

“No, no that’s not what I meant…I guess you could say I’m the weird one” Peter was sure he wasn’t following what you were saying just now. How could you be weird?

“Look, I don’t know why I’m like this, but… I’ve never had a boyfriend before and the thought of being in a relationship is new to me. What’s also new to me is the fact that I get to be physical with someone that I have really like and…” you looked back again at his face to see if he was following you along before continuing.

“The thought of even just holding hands with someone, especially you, just overwhelms me. I feel warm and fuzzy of course when I’m with you, like my heart just wants to jump around the room. But at the same time it feels like it might just burst and I feel like a PC that just short-circuits due to the heat. I guess you could say I get overstimulated? I’m not sure what to call it, but that’s just how I am…”

You didn’t realize that you were curling up into a ball on his couch when you finished your explanation. it did make a nice place to burry your head into so that you could calm yourself down for a bit before hearing Peter’s reply to what you just said.

Peter felt, giddy? like as if he saw the most cutest plush bear in the world and wanted to hug it so tight cause it was so cute. That was how he felt after your whole explanation. Your reason was totally valid, but on the other hand it also make Peter want to hold you close and see your face get red in the cutest way possible. Though, that might just make things worse.

You heard rustling from the other side of the couch and watch Peter hold up one of his fingers to you. Your brows furrowed at his sudden act.

“Let’s try something. I hold up one of my finger, and you just touch mine with your. how bout that?”

You swore this whole situation felt like something a pre-school teacher would do to a kid to get to know them.

“come on just humor me. Besides, think of it as a training exercise for yourself” and so you did.

You held out your index finger and connected the two together. You felt like Peter was E.T and you were the young boy in the movie.

“Are we recreating E.T here?!”

“I don’t know, maybe~” you giggled at his response.

“Ok, how bout we try this now,” Peter held out all his other fingers, signaling you to do the same with your hands. You showed signs of hesitance but you wanted to try even for a bit.

You unraveled your hands and brought both of your fingertips together slowly. First the thumbs, then the middle finger, the ring finger and finally your pinky. Your stomach felt like it was fluttering, along with you heartbeat starting to pick up the pace.

Peter could tell you were starting to “short-circuit” as you described. So he let you know it was ok if you didn’t want to continue. “We can stop if you want.”

you shook your head while keeping your hand steady in the air with his. Both of your fingertips were still touching, not once have you flinched away from his.

“I-it’s okay, I really wanna try holding your hand” the last bit of the sentence you dialed it down a bit so that Peter couldn’t hear it. Though, we all know he could hear it.

As if you were an astronaut taking your first step on a planet, you slowly brought you palm closer to Peter’s. Peter has not moved an inch from his position, so all of this was your own doing. Then slowly, but surely, your hands were clasped together. Now you could feel your face starting to burn, and your heart was pumping faster. This was only just hands touching, imagine if you did some of the things your friends kept telling you about.

Peter felt proud of you, even though he could see your face turn into different shades of red, but proud. Now, he felt like doing something bold, maybe you weren’t ready for it, but he wanted to at least try and see your reaction.

“I’m gonna do something so, be prepared ok”

“what?”

“Trust me” trust me. Never would you think those were the words from Peter that would make you turn into mush.

Peter then did the unthinkable, well at least for you. He shifted his hand a bit and slowly intertwined his hands with yours. Now, your fingers were interlaced with each other. You were both now holding hands. Something Peter wanted to do for the whole day. His hold on you was firm, not to the point where it hurts, but firm in a way that says he would never let go of you.

Your eyes widened, your instincts are telling you to pull away and stick your head into the bathtub filled with cold water. are your hands starting to sweat? you think it does. Are you sweating? maybe? God you are! What’s happening? can you still see Peter? Yes, but right now you really don’t want to turn into a tomato in front of him so you look to the side so that your hair is covering your face and avoid looking at him. But despite all that, your hand was still holding his. Never letting go.

Peter thought enough was enough so he tried to pull a way so that you could at least breath. Surprisingly, you were the one that held on.

“I- I don’t want my efforts to go to waste, or yours. So… is it okay if we stay like this for a bit” you were still looking away from Peter, but you lowered your hands so that it was comfortably resting on the couch.

“My heart is like beating a thousand miles per second right now I think, but I-I’m okay…” You finally looked at Peter. Your cheeks were flushed with shades of red, and your eyes seemed more like a doe to Peter now. God, he really wanted to hold you close now.

He shuffled a bit in the couch, trying to close the distance between you little by little.

“Is this okay?” Peter asked. He was still an arms length far from you, but closer nonetheless. You nodded. He then shifted closer, asking the same thing, and you replied the same. After going back and forth a bit, Peter was now only a few inches away from your body. You both still kept some form of distance, but the proximity between you two was closer than you could ever imagine. Peter asked one last time.

“How about this? Is this too close for you?” He said, almost like a whisper. Your heart had reached it’s breaking point, your brain was already in the process of turning into goop, your body was overheating as if gas was leaking out of your skin. Yeah, this was your limit for now Peter thought.

He backed a few inches away from you so you could compose yourself, while his eyes were still watching your every move. You finally let go of his hand and fanned yourself to cool your face.

You gave him a sheepish smile as you’re still embarrassed about the whole thing you just did with him, at the same time you were happy he tried to help you. Though, you don’t know how much your heart can take it if he keeps doing these things.

“How bout we just stick to hand holding for now?” you said.

Peter gave you his signature smile and grabbed your hand to hold it on his own. Though, he wasn’t done teasing you just yet, as once he grabbed your hand, he brought the back of your hand to his lips and kissed it as if he was a prince in a fairy tale giving the princess a greeting.

yeah, it was then and there you fainted.

[mayhemchicken-varneyposting]

Varney the Vampire, Chapter 4: Guys I Think It Might Be A Vampire

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Morning dawns, so bright and clear and beautiful you can practically hear the Peer Gynt suite in the background. Henry, who has been casting paranoid looks at the creepy portrait all night, is much relieved. Flora wakes up, and she's still freaked out from last night. Henry, after making a token attempt to comfort her, calls his mom in to deal with her Girl Feelings and leaves to confer with Marchdale.

Marchdale is finally willing to share his theory about what is going on. After building suspense for a full page or so, he finally reveals that he thinks it was...a vampire! Both him and Henry immediately agree that this is such a horrible thought that they're not even going to entertain the notion that it might be true, even though it fits the evidence better than any explanation they can think of. They then further agree that they must not tell George any of this, as he is of a delicate constitution and the very idea may just kill him.

George then enters the room, and tells them he's come to the conclusion that Flora was attacked by a vampire.

Henry and Marchdale are greatly upset by this, and make George swear he won't go around actually believing that, or talking about it to anyone. After all, if they tell their mother or Flora, the shock of such an idea may simply be too great.

Flora continues to show symptoms of major blood loss, so Henry rides into town to enlist the services of a medical gentleman, a man of drugs, or any other silly euphemism for "doctor" Rymer can think of. He then discovers that the servants have gossiped about the attack, and now literally everyone in the entire countryside is talking about how there's been a vampire attack. Frazzled, he goes to see the doctor, one Mr. Chillingworth, who tells him he's being crazy and ridiculous. Chillingworth agrees to come by later and have a look at Flora, and Henry rides home as fast as possible to prevent any more people from asking him about the vampire.

When he gets home, he finds out that Flora has also, independently, come to the conclusion that she was attacked by a vampire. Flora is still jumpy and paranoid, and she's heard of the idea that people who are bitten turn into vampires themselves, which isn't helping her mental state. She's also remembered a few more details from the attack, which she recounts vividly. Henry tries to reassure her with little success.

Then Dr. Chillingworth arrives, and proceeds to gaslight the hell out of Flora. First he tells her everything she experienced was a dream, and then after examining the wounds on her neck for two straight minutes pronounces them to be bug bites. Flora can tell this is bullshit, but is too exhausted to really argue with him.

Henry and Chillingworth go into another room, where Chillingworth shares his real opinion, which is that the whole situation is really weird and he has no idea what to make of it. It sure does seem like a vampire, huh! Haha Henry did you know that vampires are healed by the full moon, and that some legends say they prefer to hunt close to full moons so they'll be healed if they get hurt, and that tonight is a full moon? Wild. All obviously bullshit superstitions, of course. Don't even worry about it. Vampires aren't real. But if they were they would definitely attack you tonight. They won't though. Probably. Good night, Henry!

Oh my god this is a long chapter. Okay. Here we go.

The chapter opens with a little narrator soliloquy on the marvelous powers of daylight to sweep away the worries and fears of night. Rymer confidently asserts:

There must be a downright physical reason for this effect—it is so remarkable and so universal. It seems that the sun's rays so completely alter and modify the constitution of the atmosphere, that it produces, as we inhale it, a wonderfully different effect upon the nerves of the human subject. We can account for this phenomenon in no other way.

He uses dry sarcasm from time to time, but I think he might actually believe this.

Something I left out of my summary above is the sheer amount of time dedicated to Moving The Painting Logistics. While he stays up watching his sister, Henry spends several paragraphs examining the painting and trying to figure out how to move it, before eventually concluding that actually, there's no need to, because Flora's definitely going to want to change rooms after this. He will rehash his thought process in full to George and Marchdale later.

Speaking of which, Henry's conversations with the other men in this chapter introduce a fascinating and baffling idea which will be repeated throughout this book.

"He mentioned it to me; but we have both agreed to repudiate it with horror." "To—repudiate—it?" "Yes, George." "And yet—and yet—" "Hush, hush! I know what you would say. You would tell us that our repudiation of it cannot affect the fact. Of that we are aware; but yet will we disbelieve that which a belief in would be enough to drive us mad."

This - this is a weird way of thinking. I could write entire essays on this idea, how it presents itself in the text, and just what the hell I think Rymer might be trying to say with it. To summarize my thoughts in brief, fear in Varney the Vampire is treated as a worse specter than any of the things that cause fear. The idea that is repeated over and over again throughout the narrative is that not believing in a horror which is provably real is better than acknowledging the horror exists. Why? Because the worst, most heinous thing any person can be is afraid. Fear leads to madness, hysteria, emasculation, and societal decline. On the flipside of this, lying and gaslighting are Good Actually so long as they're in the service of preventing fear.

...I would like to remind everyone at this point that vampires are a PROVABLY REAL FACTUAL ENTITY in this universe. This is like not telling people in Florida that a hurricane is about to hit because you don't want to scare them.

With this in mind, we ought to talk about Chillingworth. First, though, I would like to share this line from George that I thought was funny:

"As you please, brother, and as you please, Mr. Marchdale. I know I am a frail reed, and my belief is that this affair will kill me quite."

On to Chillingworth. Chillingworth plays the part of the dedicated skeptic, a role which he adopts, ironically, with a sort of religious fervor. More on that later. As a doctor, Chillingworth fills the Gothic literature archetype of the rational modern man, which means he is completely insufferable. When Henry comes to him with his story, he is openly rude and dismissive:

"I never in all my life heard a more circumstantial narrative in favour of so hideous a superstition." [...] "But the glaring facts of the case." "I don't care if they were ten times more glaring, I won't believe it. I would rather believe you were all mad, the whole family of you—that at the full of the moon you all were a little cracked."

With Flora he is even worse. He's gaslighting her from his very first words:

"Well, Miss Bannerworth," he said, "what is all this I hear about an ugly dream you have had?"

He dismisses what she has to say, insults and belittles her:

"Well, will you tell me what it was?" "Yes, sir, it was a vampyre." Mr. Chillingworth glanced at Henry, as he said, in reply to Flora's words,— "I suppose that is, after all, another name, Flora, for the nightmare?" "No—no—no!" "Do you really, then, persist in believing anything so absurd, Miss Bannerworth?"

When Flora brings up a valid counter to him - she, Henry, George, Mrs. B, and Marchdale all saw the vampire - he changes the subject. Then, after examining Flora, he gives a diagnosis which is utter bullshit - he KNOWS it's bullshit, too, because he tells Henry his real opinion later.

But all this is Fine and Good, actually, because Chillingworth's role in the story is to maintain Rationality and Truth, which means he can lie and gaslight as much as he wants. Yeah, that makes sense.

He isn't even effective at holding back the tide of superstition, either - in fact, he actively sabotages his own effort to maintain rationality. Not only does no one buy his bullshit explanations about nightmares and bug bites, but later in his conversation with Henry he happens to bring up a bunch of new vampire lore which only worsens Henry's own apprehensions. This is the lore, taken from Polidori's short story The Vampyre, that vampires can be revived by moonlight. In a sequence that is equal parts funny and maddening, he brings this up, along with mentioning that it's a full moon tonight, wouldn't it be funny, Henry, if the figure you shot was a vampire, and the reason you didn't find a body was - ah, but look at me, indulging these silly superstitions. Obviously this is all nonsense.

Not exactly quelling the anxieties about vampires, dude!

Chillingworth's ineffectuality, starkly highlighted in a later chapter, points to the final piece of the theme that runs like a nasty little Bolton Strid underneath the text of Varney the Vampire: fear itself is both powerful and frightening, and rational thinkers are often powerless to stop its effects. (The effects of fear, incidentally, are about a thousand times worse when the people affected are women and/or poor.)

Varney is not the villain of Varney the Vampire. People who are scared of him are. This isn't a metaphor, either. Just wait until we meet the Angry Mobs.

[popcornforone]

The Interview

Part of the Attending Mr York Fan Fic Series

Master list

I just couldn’t put the Dave I created down. You got the last chapter in April of the original story but I actually finished writing it in March, & I missed him & the little world I created for them. So here I am back with my Stabby… ready for more fun.

Synopsis: You’ve applied for a housekeeper & Nanny job that you know you won’t get, but the perks & money were to tempting to not go for. So your shocked when your asked to come & be interviewed at the York residence, & meet the family who’s needs you will be attending.

Word count: 3200

Warnings: this is tame for me & Dave. Swearing & alcohol, pining, imagining what Dave might do to you, descriptions of oral sex are mentioned, along with blood, cuts, injuries & sick.This is the first time you come across Dave so it’s rather soft. However the rest of the series won’t be & as always DAVE YORK COMES WITH HIS OWN WARNING!

Thanks as always for the read people, all feedback is always welcome

Job interviews are never the easiest thing in the world, for a normal job. You never know if the vibe is going to click & if you will just get on, & be the person they are looking for. However this interview is one that you don’t think you will get, not in 100 years. You’re not really qualified for it but the perks that come with the job are most intriguing & you knew it was too good an opportunity to miss out on applying for. You were shocked when you got a phone call from them to say they wanted to speak to you. Obviously The Yorks have seen a quality in your cv that they think will suit this role.

Finding The York residency is easy. Considering what they want & how on the application they have described their lives, you thought they would have a much grander house in a much more affluent area. But here you are on a Wednesday afternoon, pulling up across their drive looking at this family home, which doesn’t look like it’s rather special but does seem homely from the outside. You make sure your hair is okay & that your outfit isn’t creased. You’ve worn a day dress but one that’s easy to move about in, if they tell you to go & interact with their kids. After all this is a job for a Nanny & House Keeper, surly whatever kids they have, must like you if your to get the job, not that you think you stand any chance of getting it at all.

You hear the doorbell echo across the house as you press it & wait patiently for someone to greet you, admiring the pot plants by the path. The front door opens & you are greeted by name “welcome, im Carol, we spoke on the phone last week, thank you for coming to listen to us” she says as she welcomes you in & you shake her hand. “My husband is just finishing a phone call but he will join us shortly, come with me to the kitchen, would you like water, tea or coffee?” Mrs York asks ushering you in & taking your coat. The house is homely but there’s no art on the wall, everything is very clean & white & in its right place. Clearly Mrs York likes this, it’s all very to the point & perfect. Until you get to the kitchen.

It’s a grand kitchen. A walk in pantry, an island counter with low lights hanging down, perfect for entertaining, a little kids play area a few steps down, a sofa & a round table which you can tell has been cleaned for this chat today. It’s too clean. This is clearly where their life happens & you suddenly feel very at home in this room. This is where memories are made for the Yorks. You watch as Carol makes you coffee & just have a nice chat about your drive & the weekend thats been & the next one to come.

“Sorry darling, you know how Daniels gets in the phone” a voice bellows from behind you which came from nowhere. It’s deep & sharp & you turn around to introduce yourself & shake his hand, but instead you almost drop your coffee cup. You’re frozen to the spot. You don’t believe in love at first sight, but you now think lust at first touch might be true. Large & broad, towering above you. His eyes dancing across you looking for any hit of weakness & vulnerability. His light blue shirt & dark pants are crisp, that belt buckle is polished & shoes so shiny you could see your face in them. Those eyes that are giving you the once over, are dark pools of delight. Rich caramels, taking in every inch of his prospective house keeper. Clean shaven as his large hand goes around his neck into this thick dark short hair. Those lips probably smile & seduce but the sternness in his face makes you think they haven’t smiled in a while. He has a mysterious aura around him, one of danger & to not get too close. But you can’t help it, the second his hand firmly shakes yours, you are his. It doesn’t matter his wife is standing next to you answering him back, you’re transfixed on her husband & you need to snap out of the trance quickly. “I’m Mr York… David York”

The next few minutes are a blur, watching this powerful man, who has somehow in all of 5 words, got all the power in the world over you. You’d do anything for this man, & you have only met him for a few minutes. The way he hold his mug, that chiseled jaw extending, the way he slurps his coffee. Seeing his lips kiss his wife’s cheek, you feel jealous. & that’s what makes you snap out of your trance, that & Carols voice asking you “come sit down deary, we can then go though your cv together.” You remember where you are & you join Mr & Mrs York at the circular table to discuss why you are even a candidates for this job. This does mean facing David & making eye contract as you answer his questions. Maybe you can just focus on Carol, not that you think you can actually concentrate on anything at all.

You take your seat ready for their questions. You look nervous but you can easily pass it on for interview nerves, not the fact that the man sitting opposite you is stunningly handsome & that you are wondering how good his plump lips would feel on your pussy, lapping away at your clit as you beg him for more. You need to remember why you are here, for an interview, not to gawp at your possible employer.

“So…” Carols starts with some pretty mundane questions about your back ground & education, all the old chestnuts from a classic interview. You answer them well & you see David roll his eyes a little at them. At question 5 he interjects.

“Why apply for this role?” He asks “clearly your into art, graphics & design, your cv screams it, why apply to be a house keeper?” He has a very good point & it throws you a little bit, but you have a prepared answer which probably isn’t one that they will appreciate but is honest.

“The job said beck & call but free time & support whenever it’s needed. Most normal jobs want a 8:30 to 6 that I apply for. Once you add a commute & eating in, that’s no home time. Here you have said weekends & yea there are early starts but you said support in whatever else I need. I’m sure that there will be days you just need me to pick your kids up & do dinner & some days when you need me to stay over, but I’m sure that when I’m not needed I would have the time to create some art, get my creative juices flowing again. I also think it would be good for your kids if you allowed them, to join me working on my art. A good creative outlet from them, let them find another type of inspiration.” David looks inquisitively at you looking you up & down “I know that wasn’t the answer you wanted, but I’m honest & im here to support you. I want to make sure that when I’m here, all you need to stress about is what’s going on in your own mind, not a grocery run or cooking pasta or running errands. I want you to stress about just your work & normal life like the rest of the world does” that’s when you see a small smirk across David’s face as you finish this statement with “I’m here for all your needs & to attend to you all”. His eyes dart across you not impressed just by your words but by your attitude & willingness.

“Art?” Carol chirps up before he can respond, he mouth & sentence hanging in mid air before he could even get the words out “that would be good for the kids for sure” she then talks about how she like minimal art but can’t find the right thing for the house to put up. A few more mundane questions happen before David then asks “Do you have first aid or life saving courses under your belt? Obviously with 2 small girls who you will meet another day, if we think you’re suitable, bumps & bruises happen all the time. You’re okay with looking after them if they cut themselves? you’re not going to freak out at a bit of sick or blood?” David is asking this because it’s part of the interview, but he knows it’s likely at some point you will find out what he does for a living. He’s an assassin, one of the best in the world, & he knows there maybe a day soon when he needs your help to stitch him up or take him to hospital.

“Yes I can do that, I have a friend who has fits, we as a group all make sure we stay up to date with as much as we can. I’m happy to take more courses if you need me too.” Is your reply. Firm & confident. You know it’s been a while since you’ve done a course in this but you still know what to do. Nothing your innocent king think, that an ice pack or a plaster can’t solve.

The interview starts to draw to a close & they start talking to you about your life in general. “Obviously there maybe a few days when we need you to stay over if you get this job to take the girls to nursery & school early if were not both back, or if you’ve stayed late” Carol implys “would that be okay? Are you comfortable with that? We have Cctv in every room so you will always be safe here without us”

“Yes Mrs York” your mind wonders why they have cctv but that’s a question for another day, not one when your trying to get a job “would my boyfriend be able to stay over, if I needed him too? It wouldn’t be something I would do until we were all completely comfortable with each other & you trust me & id let you meet him first” David raises an eyebrow when the word boyfriend is brought up “how serious is your boyfriend?” He asks “David!” Carol scoffs & playfully hits him “that’s none of your business” she say before he reply “if he’s a serious man in her life, I see there being no problem, stability means loyalty & trust, but if he’s just a fuck buddy then that raises more questions for me” you look a bit shocked. You’ve never been to an interview before where the interviewer has sworn let alone use the word fuck. He clearly is testing you to get a reaction from you. “I’ve been with him 18months” you reply calmly like you have done every question. “Harry & I have talked about moving in together soon, so that’s how loyal I am” David nods “well answered” he states writing the word not available on his own notes, which you don’t see.

The final question they ask you is if you have any questions for them at this stage. They have been clear throughout the interview that there would be a second interview with the girls on Sunday, if today went well to see how you get on with them & they have been very frank about what they expect from you. You sit there for a second & then ask something bold, which might mean you don’t get a call back for another day. “why interview me? You said yourself I’m not a house keeper or have nanny experience, why ask me?” Carol has a small chuckle & goes to answer but David buts in.

“We’ve interviewed 4 other people before you, all Nanny’s or house keeper, but none had any idea of what the real world is. We want our kids to have some of that in their lives & your CV was the next one on the pile. You have life experience & from what you’ve told us about you today, you have had some struggles in the past & you just bring across this soothing calm approach now we’ve met you, don’t you agree darling?” He asks his wife stroking her hand looking lovingly at her “yes dear” she says “we wanted to see what the rest of the world offered, not just those that fall into that bracket” you all just nod in agreement with each other. There is a very strong vibe & connection here & you think that maybe you do stand a chance, just as long as you connect with those girls. Or maybe you are just falling deeper for the talk dark & handsome man sitting opposite you. Each time those large rich brown eyes glance at you, you feel seen.

The Yorks then finish up & David looks at his phone. Carol shakes your hand & asks if you’re free at 3pm on Sunday to meet the girls & have early dinner with them, which you accept. You have a second interview in the bag. David nods. “I’ll walk her out honey, I need to make my way to the actual office” David says & you thank Carol, grab your coat & have David walk you out of the house. His hand pushes you forward touching the lower of your back. Not to low but enough to make you blush, but enough that to yourself it shows that this man has an effect on you. Thank god you are walking in front of him & he can’t see the true effect he has on you.

“I just want you to know…” David says as he locks the front door behind him & stands next to his car “that we’ve been looking for a house keeper for a while & a nanny more recently. Carol has hired some but most of them just aren’t what they say they are at the interview. You on the other hand, there’s something about you. Your normal & I think you will bring stability to our house & help influence our kids as they grow as well. I don’t tend to trust people, my line of work doesn’t allow me to, but there’s something I can see in you, that makes me know that I can trust you with my families & my own life.” He states.

“Wow Mr York” you’re a little stunned at that revelation “that means something that you’ve picked that up so quickly, thank you”

“Please it’s David, I actually prefer Dave but David or Mr York is fine” he says shuffling a bit. “I’m good at picking up on peoples strengths & weaknesses it’s part of the job I do, & from the last hour, the only weakness I see in you, is that you care too much & that’s what I need for my family” you blush as he says these words to you. No one’s ever said that a weakness of yours is what they need. This desirable man has a way of making you feel so much in so few words. He’s very to the point & direct. You can tell he’s a man who gets what he wants, no matter what.

A few awkward moments of silence happen between you before you both snap out of it. Daves been thinking about how well you’re going to look after his family. He finds you attractive & wonders how loyal & good your boyfriend really is to you & if he might, one day, be needed to pick up your emotional pieces should it all go wrong with him. “I should really get going now Mr York & you said you needed to get to your own office, so please don’t let me keep you” you offer you hand which he firmly shakes & through that connection of his large palm on your dainty hand, a small soft smile comes from his dark brown eyes. “Thank you for the opportunity” you say “ooh no the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart” he responds. That cute nickname makes you smile which he can see as bright as the sun. “I’m already looking forward to seeing you meet the girls on Sunday, im sure you will be the most attentive person we’ve had so far, I can just feel it in my bones.” He says, hands parting & you both sigh & get in your separate cars. You head home & Dave heads to the office.

1 week, later the phone rings while your out for lunch with friends. “Sorry guys, be back in 3minutes” you leave them & head to the bathroom of the cafe to take the call.

“Hello”

“Ahh it’s Mr York”

“Mr York… hi how are you?” Just his voice down the phone has you feeling flush & warm, how can he do that.

“I’m even better now, I’ve just hired a new house keeper”

Your face drops down the phone.

“It’s you”

“What!?” You let out an over the top excited screech

“All the girls have talked about since Sunday, has been making art & playing with you & your pasta was half decent on Sunday night, so what do you say… are you free tonight to come & see us to sign & be our house keeper & nanny & discus when you will start?” He asks, he himself is also excited to have you work for him. He’s not lying when he says how excited the girls have been, but he is drawn to you & he can’t explain why.

“Yes Mr York, what time?” You just about get the word out.

“7pm, don’t worry it’s Wednesday, I cook on Wednesdays, you’ll always have that night off from cooking” he laughs a little down the phone.

“Sounds perfect Mr York, I will see you tonight”

Once the call is over, you rush back to your friends & tell them you got the job. Suddenly the orange juices you were all having are now Buck’s Fizz as your friends celebrate your new job with you. “To attending the needs of the Yorks” you toast & your friends cheer. You have no idea exactly what needs you are about to attend, ignorance for now is completely bliss & will remain that way for a little while.

[sunnyrifle]

GtK ending aftermath (ramblings again)

GinMori brainrot obviously! but hope it's a fun read

⚠️⚠️unedited, also NO ONE in this conversation is a native english speaker (some parts were translated or held in other languages as well)⚠️⚠️

KongMengDo: I want to see something like that

Ginji-san, he said he let Morita go to test him... but in reality, he's been keeping an eye on him the whole time, not always thorough (like when the car showed up just in time to pick Morita up at Kamui)... but on the day Morita announced his retirement he decided to let Morita go… I want to see Ginji in his study, burning surveillance reports on Morita with a lighter and throwing it in the ashtray.

Ginji feels empty after throwing away all the traces of Morita that he has, but he doesn't regret it, until one day he finds Morita's signature on a crumpled receipt in a cupboard at home, and after fiddling with it for a while, he puts it in his wallet. But as time goes by, the letters on the receipt start to fade...

When Ginji has his hands full, Ryohei takes the card out of Ginji's wallet for him, and is about to throw it away when a white piece of paper comes out, but Ginji says, "Leave it be."

"Why? It doesn't have anything written on it..."

"It doesn't matter, keep it."

"Okay..."

And then later on, if something happened to his wallet or something, and he ended up losing the scrap of paper, Ginji would have a rare smile on his face...

On the other hand, after Morita leaves Ginji, he misses him terribly and searches frantically for any trace of him, any remnants of his things, but Morita doesn't have any of Ginji's things.

Morita is devastated. Who were we to each other, Ginji? Did I ever have your heart? We used to share the bed and even lived together, but as soon as I decided to leave, everything scattered like a mirage... I feel like I dreamed a false dream... From the beginning, the dream of becoming “gold” and the idea of having a country were all illusions…

All of those dreams were not for me. I'm...

Morita is shocked to see Ginji with Ryohei... < I want to see this, and I think this is some kind of soap opera....

Akira: aah I really enjoy this taste yes... because actually it was such a short time they spent together, a few years, 3 years at most? if Morita encountered no traces of Ginji when he left Morita to test him, then Mori tried hard to return to his side and achieved some unbelievable heights in the meantime... he spent at least a few weeks just listening in at the restaurants, then came up with elaborate plans... but I bet Morita had times when he asked himself "what if I was just fooled? What if Ginji doesn't care if I even achieve anything? then I'll become a villain for my own sake only"

but now it was Morita who left Ginji by his own decision... I bet it feels like he went out of the fog that was there for at least a few years, and Morita is lost because of the clear view... What would I do if I was only good at navigating the murky waters before?

actually Morita is good at a lot of things, but I want him to think that he was only good at what Ginji praised him for hehehhe at least for the first few years he'd have to relearn how is it to trust your own judgement to navigate civilian life... Kamui trauma on top of it

So of course the more Morita spends time without Ginji the more the underground and the villains' side, the whole night business, feels like a weird dream... the green jacket and suit pants torn in the Kamui accident, maybe he threw those away as well...

So one day I hope Morita would wake up realising he doesn't believe Ginji was an actual person in his life... and get scared by the thought. Morita would try searching for anything that reminds him of the time they spent together, a postcard, a letter, any old photo...

of course there wasn't anything left and by the time Morita is out of breath in the middle of his apartment, he'd have tears in his eyes, after all you can't chase the dream or misty fog after it's long gone

"What was I even doing? All the luxury restaurants and hotels, we drank and ate and spent time together, but we avoided all the important things... now I have no trace of such an important person from my past left" and maybe it'd feel crushing

even if Morita decided long ago to not search for Ginji again, he didn't want to pretend it all didn't happen, he wanted a proof that his heart was broken not without a reason, not because of the dream he had seen, but because of something he actually held in his hands once--

ah, but I know the thing that Ginji left for Morita~ maybe it's cruel but it's true, the only things that will never go away... the scars

because wouldn't it be fun to see Morita realise, in the shower, out of blue, or getting dressed up, that the stripes over his hands and legs, even if they don't hurt at all now, are something left as a proof on his body? ah, did the knife over his heart leave the scar as well? hehehe

I'd want Morita to hazily trace his fingers over the old wounds and try so hard to remember the pain they brought, because it somehow returned the good memories alongside it, that he somehow tried to convince himself that he could still smell roses alongside antiseptic as well...

I would really love to see Morita struggling, not only to live by himself, but bringing this into new relationships too... if Morita were to have a one night stand or even date someone, wouldn't he be weird about it? sitting down at the edge of the bed after the night, smoking and tracing his scars, thinking of a person long gone from his life?

I would really like to see Morita change his cigarette brand to Ginji's after a while hehehe... chasing a dream so distant you forget if maybe you created that dream by yourself in the first place... ah I want Morita to feel heartbroken sometimes on the worst days he has;;

KongMengDo: Oh, right... Morita has marks left from Gin-san on his body that he can never lose! I forgot about that for a moment haha Even if there comes a moment when the time he spent with Gin-san feels like a dream, the deep scars will remain on Morita to remind him that it was never a dream.

Ah, this is so good! The traces of Morita left for  Ginji will be easy to fade, but the traces of Gin-san left on Morita will never be erased. I think this contrast is really good!!!

Akira: Actually, I like that Morita wasn't depicted with scars not even once, because then we can deduce Morita left empty-handed “dry from the water” into civilian life... but that's not true, he went through at least two massacres, he has bullet wounds and cuts...

poor Morita who was avoiding his scars when he just got them, because they brought unwanted thoughts to him when they were fresh, now were his only treasure

KongMengDo: ahhh... A relationship that can only be remembered with hurt and pain... it's so cruel and so good...

Akira: and then Ryouhei! oh I would like to see Morita jealous or angry... I'd be a nice parallel if he'd see Ginji with Ryouhei on the horse races, freeze in his place and lose Ginji in the crowd, but when Morita comes to his senses, he's so angry?

I want to see him throwing things on the ground again, stomping, but now cursing not the betting tickets, but Ginji he just saw. Because even if it's naive, wouldn't Morita hope Ginji was left as heartbroken as him? I bet Morita, who didn't move on, would wish for Ginji to never move on too

KongMengDo: It's really nice to imagine Morita being jealous of Ryouhei. It's especially good that Morita doesn't actually realise that Ryouhei is a mere tool to Gin-san. When Ginji realises that Morita is misunderstanding their relationship, will he try to explain it to him? That Morita is more important to him than Ryouhei? Probably not, because he's honouring what Morita said when he was leaving... I don't think he'll make Morita regret leaving him

Akira: Gin-san is so generous ㅋㅋㅋㅋ

ah but I like the scenario of Morita calling out Ginji's name by an accident... I like that he'd see Ginji, call for him, and see him turn head, but his hand is draped over the shoulder of some other young man... aah I bet Morita would be furious

maybe they'll agree to a short cafe break together somewhere nearby... maybe Morita had a lot to say to Ginji before, but now his thoughts are scattered... and Ginji would look so nonchalant, smoking before the cup of coffee, not raising any questions and starting a talk- it was so unhelpful to Morita, he only started to assume that Ginji sat there in front of him because Morita asked to, because Ginji just indulges him with a favour - not because he wants to have a short conversation with Morita after such a long time of course...

when actually Ginji would be smoking nervously hahaha I want Ginji to be so out of place, he'd try harder to appear casual, maybe leaning off the table, elbow on the chair back, cigarette between his fingers that cover his mouth- everything, but looking at the Morita... so he'd miss Morita glaring at him in fury in return hahaha

ah would be cruel if Morita's first question after years of separation will be "Who is this guy?"

I want Ginji to be taken aback by the voice but also not miss the anger in Morita’s voice-- and I want Ginji to snicker and finally see Morita's expression... and smile, because he really missed Morita, and now he was graced with such a rare view? Morita was rare to be jealous before and now he's changed but he's still the same in some ways too

I actually want them to bicker haha I want Ginji to play himself over and nudge Morita with vague answers about Ryouhei, so Morita would have no choice, he won’t remember anything he actually wanted to say to Ginji when they just met... and then they'll separate on such a bad note? hehe, I want them both to regret their decisions during the small meeting... I want them both to make incorrect conclusions about each other too...

"Ginji just used me, he doesn't care about me, maybe he never did"

"Morita is as naive as ever, no wonder he retired so soon"

But after that the anger and frustration will disappear slowly... they'd both be stuck with realisation they are just fooling themselves with short lived emotions... and the precious time they had together in that small cafe... they wasted it. Like they wasted a lot of the time they had together before, doing so many things and visiting so many places, but avoiding the most important things right until the end... not confronting their own feelings about each other... and now they did that again. Maybe it'll bring the smallest smiles to them to think about the irony of that... and maybe hope their next short meeting in the crowd would not be so embarrassing as if they're the divorced old couple haha-- I hope they'll at least do a good handshake next time and smile at each other heh

Morita's blood boiling because of Ryouhei presence is amazing... ah but maybe even if he'd think to accept Ryouhei being at Ginji's side, he'd still be bitter and ignore the guy hehhe

[just-a-draco-girly]

The Secret - Chapter Nine

CW: mention of alcohol

Despite many fruitless attempts from Draco to talk to me, I haven't spoken to him since the night of the Yule Ball a fortnight ago and it's now the last day of term before the Christmas holidays. I gaze out of the window, watching the fluffy snowflakes slowly fall from the white sky. I cast my mind back to the start of my almost 15 year long friendship with the mercurial blonde and try to puzzle as to why he would do something like that to me. A stray tear escapes my tear duct and slowly slides down my left cheek.

A sudden tap on my shoulder breaks me from my reverie, causing me to hastily wipe at my face. I turn to see Charlie stood with none other than Hermione Granger. They both watch me nervously as they perch themselves next to me on the cold stone ledge.

"I was just wondering if you were okay, as you haven't shown up to Ancient Runes study club over the past few weeks" Hermione speaks, concern evident in her warm brown orbs as she searches my face for evidence of emotion.

"I'm as okay as you can be when your lifelong best friend betrays your trust and breaks your heart" I reply, curtly. A crack in my voice glaringly obvious and another tear steadily glides down my cheek. The girls watch me with trepidation whilst I bring my knees up to my chest and tightly wrap my arms around them. "I just... love him... so much" I whisper, resting my chin softly on my knees and allowing the tears to fall freely down my pallid face. My heart aching painfully in my chest.

"Um... I-er. Well... Have you told him how you feel?" Hermione speaks, regathering herself after my confession of love for Draco obviously shocked her slightly. I shake my head solemnly in response. "Have you talked to him about the bet? His side of the story may be worth listening to, because I know Malfoy can be a bit of an ass to people... but he seemed to really care for you" She places a hand on my shoulder in a bid to comfort me. I swallow slowly, realization washing over me that Hermione Granger, as always, is indeed right. I hadn't listened to him when he tried to explain and I never gave him a chance to either. All I'd done was avoid and ignore him. But can you blame me. He acted like a complete jerk. I think I deserve to be petty for a couple of weeks.

"Vicky, it might be worth talking to him at your parents' new year party. That way you can give yourself some time to process everything and work out what to say" Charlotte adds, smiling gently at me. Her words wash over me and I realize that she too is right. I nod in response and take a deep breath before releasing my legs and standing from the window ledge.

"I need to go pack my trunk and think about a few things. Thanks for the talk, guys. It's given me... food for thought" I bid them farewell and walk away in the direction of the Ravenclaw common room.

...

"Vicky, the Malfoy's are here!" My mothers voice shouts from downstairs. I take a sharp breath and run my hands down the soft material of my black mini dress. The Christmas holidays had flown by. Too quickly for my liking. And now it was New Year's Eve. The day of my family's New Year party and the day that I have to face Draco for the first time in nearly 3 weeks. Nervously, I take a deep breath and open my bedroom door, timidly stepping out into the hall. I must act like everything is normal, as my parents are completely unaware of the events that conspired on the evening of the Yule Ball. And they still think that Draco and I are best friends.

My silver heels click against the dark wooden floor as I make my way to the top of the staircase. When I turn to descend the mahogany steps, my eyes fall on Draco whom I hadn't seen in weeks. It takes all of my effort not to gasp or stop walking completely. Dark circles surround his grey eyes, which once full of life now seem dull and empty. His tall frame looks thinner than usual with his once fitted suit seeming slightly loose on him.

"Why hello, Victoria" I am greeted by Auntie Narcissa as I reach the bottom of the staircase. She immediately takes me into her arms, squeezing me gently. She steps back and gives me an odd look. "You've lost weight, my dear. Is everything alright?" She questions, concern evident in her tone. I notice Draco's eyes instantly look at me, full of worry and some other emotion that I can't quite put my finger on.

"I'm fine, Aunt Cissy. It's great to see you" I reply, plastering a fake smile upon my face. Her eyes scan my face for any sign of discontent before she smiles back at me.

"Something's up with Draco. Could you please talk to him? I've asked but he won't talk to me. You're the only one he talks to" She whispers, pleading with me. Sighing, I nod in response, as I too was curious as to what is up with him.

...

Later that night whilst the adults are sat in the lounge drinking Fire Whiskey and reminiscing about days-gone-by, I find Draco sat alone on a window ledge in the upstairs hallway. His lifeless grey eyes stare out at the cloudless night sky. The moonlight causes his blonde hair to glow a magnificent silvery blue in the dark hallway. Cautiously, I walk towards him at a slow, restrained pace; freezing completely when he turns to look at me.

"Um, do you mind if I sit with you?" I ask, nervously playing with a stray lock of my brown hair as I do so. His eyes light up for a second and he nods slowly, patting the spot beside him on the ledge. I timidly make my way over to him and perch myself beside him. Taking a deep breath before I speak. "We need to talk." A hushed silence falls over us as I attempt to tackle the elephant in the room.

"Sure, what do you want to talk about?" I glance up at him in shock. I haven't heard him speak all evening and just the sound of his voice makes various emotions begin to bubble inside me once more. His grey eyes watch me whilst a small smile forms on my lips.

"Explain the whole bet thing with Blaise and then..." I pause, trying to gather my thoughts. "I may forgive you" A small smile places itself upon his plump lips as my words grace his ears.

"Well... I-um. There's no way I can explain this without saying some things that may ruin our friendship" Draco speaks, scratching the back of his neck. His voice is low and he drops his gaze to his hands that rest in his lap. Gently, I take his hands in mine, causing him to look up at me.

"Draco, I doubt it's that bad. Try me." My voice remains calm and strong, despite how nervous I actually am internally at the moment. He stares at me silently, before gulping slowly. His Adam's apple bobbing slightly as he does. "Draco, we've been best friends all our lives. There is nothing you can say to change that" I smile in a bid to reassure him, knowing full well that if I ever confessed my true feelings to him that would completely alter our friendship. 

"Well, the bet to get you to go with to the Yule Ball wasn't meant out of spite. It was more of a... um-encouragement" He speaks, nerves apparent in his voice. His grey eyes remain locked with mine. "You see, Blaise was trying to encourage me to ask you to the Yule Ball because..." He freezes, fear in his eyes as he gazes at me. One of his hands reaches up and pulls a stray lock of hair from my face. Silence falls over us once again but this time the air is filled with nervousness, anxiety and anticipation.

"Draco, what is it? Why did Blaise have to encourage you?" I ask, becoming incredibly impatient with each passing moment.

"Because... I was too nervous to ask you, because I love you, Toria" And with that, he cups the side of my face with his soft hand and gently places his lips upon mine.

Other Chapters

[fourteenfifteen]

I’m nearly through with the spreadsheet demo when Monica screams.

For some reason, my first instinct is to check the screen. I mean, God knows that Excel makes me want to scream sometimes, and I’ve been working with it twice as long as she has. I turn to it, and everything’s fine, like, as fine as it could be, and then my eye catches on something on the other side of our suite’s glass walls.

The office lead, Angela. With a deli platter. Wiping something off of the plastic cover with a napkin.

“Oh goddamnit,” I say under my breath.

“So you saw it too?” Monica says. She’s stock still, well, except for the way she’s shaking.

In lieu of an answer, I lean forward and hit save on the spreadsheet. I stand. Monica manages to drag her eyes from Angela (still wiping) to stare up at me, scared like a baby animal. That makes me decide against asking her to stand. I grab the back of her desk chair and pull her towards Christina’s office.

She’s free, thankfully. I tug open the door, tug Monica inside, and tug it closed behind me. She does a double take at her shell-shocked face. “Hey- uh, hey guys, what’s up?”

“So you know how Monica’s desk faces out?” Christina nods. “Well,” I say, “Angela was out there, and-“

“She ate that kid!” Monica suddenly stands. “That delivery driver! She- she- her mouth-“

Christina buries her head in her hands. “Oh goddamnit.”

“Right.”

“He was- there was blood-“

“Angela’s lucky nobody else saw,” Christina says. “I mean, assuming nobody else did!”

“Seriously.”

“He was screaming, I could see it.”

Christina is gesturing widely with her hands. “She seriously needs to cut it out. I mean, one of these days someone’s gonna come looking for one of these delivery drivers-“

Monica freezes. “What do you mean?”

“What?”

“What do you mean, one of?”

A pained look crosses Christina’s face. She looks from Monica up to me. “You really should have taken her over to Tom’s office instead.”

“Somebody explain what is happening right now.”

“Okay!” She throws her hands up. “Jeffrey, come on, explain.”

I scoff. “Wow-“

“This is the kind of responsibility that comes with having an intern, Jeff. Look, I’ll remember it when I do your performance review.”

I sigh. I move to sit on Christina’s desk, like a cool guidance counselor or something. Monica looks at me, arms folded, eyes still glassy, breath still not quite steady. I turn and grab the kleenex box off of the desk and hand it to her. She holds it awkwardly like she’s not quite sure what to do with it.

I take a breath. “So,” I begin slowly. “Angela is… a bit different.”

Monica laughs. “No shit.”

“Yeah, no shit, Jeff.”

I wave both of them off. “Right, no shit, but what I mean is… uh, back when I started, she was a lot different. We think- well, we pretty much know that she got replaced. Or changed somehow. Something… made her into a different person. Who has razor sharp teeth and claws sometimes.”

Monica looks scared again. “How? How does that happen to a person?”

“Uh,” I say, “well she had this camping trip-“

Christina cuts in. “And she was into urbex-“

“-And she drank a lot of strange tea-“

“-And her sister was into weird transhumanist stuff-“

“-And she liked to start fights on Wiccan subreddits-“

“-And her dog always freaked me out-“

“So you don’t know,” Monica says.

I sigh again. “Not… strictly. Obviously we’ve speculated.”

“Tom thinks it was aliens,” Christina says. I can tell without looking she’s rolling her eyes.

“Wait.” Monica looks suddenly mad. “How many people know about this?”

“Uh.” I rub my scalp. “All of our team, I think. Like half of sales. Have you met Lizzie and Nish in IT because they have this whole elaborate timeline document-“

“We don’t tell the interns, generally,” Christina says. “It sucks, but… I mean, we want them to take full time offers, so…”

“Oh, God, am I in danger? Is she gonna eat me?”

“Nobody’s disappeared since she changed,” Christina says gently. “And it’s been, like, four years-“

“FOUR YEARS?”

“-so like, she might even be protecting us. Ask Nish, he has thoughts.”

“I’m not going to ask Nish anything, actually, because this,” Monica gestures around her to make it clear that this includes Christina and I, “is insane. And immoral. That delivery driver just died-“

Christina rubs at her head. “Obviously that isn’t ideal-“

“Not ideal, you’re sick.”

“I’m just saying! Not happy about the delivery drivers! Not a fan!”

“Me neither, for the record,” I say.

“But-“ Monica opens her mouth and Christina holds up a hand. “Let me finish my sentence. I don’t like it when Angela kills and eats delivery drivers but there is a reason why we haven’t, y’know, gone to the police or tried to vanquish her or whatever.”

Monica crosses her arms again. “Ok, what?”

Christina takes a breath. “The old Angela was… okay, you know I don’t like this kind of sexist language, but she was a huge bitch.”

“Oh my GOD-“

“When Tom’s wife was sick she told him to come in instead of stay home with her! And- and-“

“She used to shake her head at the rainbow flag at my desk,” I say.

Christina points at me. “She was genuinely so homophobic and nobody talks about it. I remember.”

“Why didn’t you just leave?”

“I was actively trying,” Christina replies.

“Yeah, I was looking,” I say. “This was the only offer I got out of college, though, it was here or retail.”

“You should have-“

“Monica,” Christina says, “think of it this way. Are you going to quit and find a new internship?”

She sets her jaw. “Maybe.”

“Really?”

Monica is about to snap back again, but then she stops. A series of complicated looks goes over her face. She bites her lip. “You said she hasn’t eaten any employees, right?”

“Exactly.”

“But I am not! NOT accepting my offer letter.”

“That’s fine,” Christina says. She sounds genuine. “I get it. Let me just say, though: you might not believe me, but Angela, this Angela, is the best boss I’ve ever had. Whatever, like, alien race or whatever she’s a part of, they have kickass leadership seminars. And, hey, you have a great mentor here too-“

I roll my eyes. “Come on, Christina-“

“No, I mean it, Jeff, you’re great, Monica, listen to him and you’ll be an Excel pro when you leave. And hey, this is better than working for an oil baron or defense contractor. Just,” she says, “keep it in mind.”

There’s a knock at the door of the office. When I turn, I see a head of light brown highlights. Angela.

Monica audibly gulps. “She doesn’t have super hearing, does she?”

“Come on in!” Christina calls with a quick glare in Monica’s direction.

She pokes her head in and smiles. Her teeth look to be of normal sharpness. “Hi guys, there’s sandwiches in the break room! Just wanted to make sure you heard.”

“Thanks,” I say, weakly.

She smiles, then looks down, unblinking. “Monica, right? How’s your summer so far?”

Monica is watching her the way a person might watch a snake. “Good,” she manages to get out. “I-I’m learning a lot.”

“Awesome. Not surprising, with these two. Well, I’ll catch you guys later. Go have one of those sandwiches!”

She shuts the door behind her. We spend a long second in silence before Monica speaks under her breath. “I am not fucking eating those.”

You and your other co-workers have known for a while that something is impersonating your boss. But no one has bothered to say anything because under its leadership the workplace has become an enjoyable place. Today you’re training a new employee when they see the boss eating a delivery driver.