#my one friend doesn’t live that far either so she like. could come. but i know how her brain works and if she’s just not feeling it she prob

[fancyfeathers]

Thinking about Yandere!Justice League having children with their darlings and perhaps those children aren’t too keen on their relationship with their parents…

Set in the universe of Young Justice.

Includes references to my Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling & Always Prey But Never A Bird

Clark’s daughter grew up in Smallville after Clark married his darling, living near the same house her father grew up in. She is one of many children, including Connor who her mother immediately took in as her own even if her father was still struggling with his feelings about his clone (though Connor rarely comes by unless Clark is gone, otherwise he is back with the team). Between herself and her siblings there is one major difference, she doesn’t have powers, or at least they have not come in yet.

She feels herself isolated from her siblings, especially when she sees one of her brothers practice and train with their father or when she gets pulled from the soccer team since it is apparently not safe when she sprained her ankle during a game but her dad has missed half her games of the season because of being Superman, Justice League business, or something with her siblings because of their powers that they are learning to control.

He is so protective but he is never even there.

She gets fed up when it gets near to her high school graduation and she is looking at colleges and talk to her parents about colleges and Clark is not sure about sending her off.

So she decides to leave on her own, pack a bag in the middle of the night while her dad is off planet and walks outside, walking across the empty field and she hears…

“Heading out?”

One of her siblings had caught onto her leaving, but they are not going to stop her, instead offering to take her anywhere she needs because she needs to leave this place to figure out who she really is.

Of course there will be panic when Clark returns home and finds one of his children is missing and she is completely untraceable, how is she untraceable? Clark can not even hear her heartbeat, she could be dead!

But she’s not…

Hal Jordan’s twins don’t really know their father super well because of when he is off planet as Green Lantern but he still wants to be a part of their lives, but their childhood is spent running around the Watchtower and being babysat by other league members or other Green Lantern Corps members while their dad is off planet, and their mother is tired of reading two very chaotic teenagers. Hal is like that one dad who does not fully understand that his children have been growing back, he’ll come into his teenage daughter’s room, sit on her bed and ask if she wants to go practice softball pitcher throws but he doesn’t know the last time his daughter played softball was in middle school. Or offering to take his son to the beach but his son cannot stand the feeling of sand on his feet or how the sand can ruin his books.

He remembers them like when they were babies and he made constructs from his ring of animals and toys for his children to play with and now when he picks up his daughter up from school he does not even know the names of her her friends.

But one thing that will never change is the fact that he will protect them no matter what. All it would take is for Hal to witness one incident, say he has to save his twins as Green Lantern, he makes the decision that at the end of the school year he is pulling them out and moving them into the Watchtower full time, besides they already stay there when he is off planet.

The two pick up on this when they overhear their parents arguing about it in the night, it is far past their bedtime so Hal doesn’t think either of them are listening but both of them listen in and all it takes is for their dad to go to a Justice League meeting and the two have packed their bags and jumped out the bathroom window.

Diana’s darling is definitely a woman and I think if they were to have a child they would have adopted an orphan, one who perhaps lost their family in an accident and Diana saves them, a young boy, a preteen at the oldest. He has a semi normal upbringing, he doesn’t really have any powers. He has never been to Themyscira because of he is a man, but Diana trains him anyway because it is important he knows how defend himself and his other adoptive mother when Diana is not around.

But the day comes where every little bird has to leave the nest and Diana agrees to let him to go to college nearby, especially after hearing about his intentions to become a lawyer. But his true intention to pursue such a career is because when he heard the stories from his other mother about how the members of the Justice League did certain things to get their partners and he felt horrified, he may not have been the one who done such a thing but he would be damned if he was not the one to try and repair it. Besides Diana has no reason to believe her baby boy is a liar, so he never even gets caught and forced to tell the truth.

It is at school where he meets someone not too different from himself and the two immediately hit it off, but the major thing between the two of them is that she is fast… really fast…

Barry Allen is close to his darling little girl, especially since she inherited his speed, they found that little fact out when she was practicing for track team tryouts and she suddenly found herself in Arizona, that was an interesting conversation when she called up her dad, a crying and confused mess, and before she could hang up Barry was already there, kneeling down in his suit and explaining everything to her.

Most kids get a car for their sixteenth birthday, she got super speed.

But another thing she got from her dad is his intelligence, it takes a lot to be a forensic scientist so Barry is hardly surprised when he little girl graduates early, he knows that she used her speed doing homework when he told her not to but sometimes the achievement outdoes the actions to get there.

Barry is willing to send her away from home for college, after all he is never far. But while she is at school she meets a boy, a few years older than her, and they become fast friends. She trusts him so she reveals her powers one night when they are hanging out around campus, her hand literally phasing through the wall with how fast it is going, but after that all turn is revealed and her world is shattered.

That boy was the son of Diana and he tells her everything, the truth about her own parents and she feels like she can never look her dad in the eye again. She doesn’t even feel like she can go home again, but when the end of the school year comes up they do have to move out of their dorm rooms and go home, but neither of them have the intention of doing that.

When Barry comes to help her move out, she is gone, most of her stuff is still there but she is gone. Then he hears the same from Diana about her son and everything clicks into place…

They found out the truth.

Zatara has another child besides Zatanna, though not biological. When Zatara’s first wife died and he kidnapped got remarried to his darling, she also had a child, a little boy from a former relationship. The boy may not be his biological child but that boy is his son, so just like Zatanna, he teaches him about the mystic arts.

The boy is practically raised by Zatara as his father, especially when his mother falls into stockholm syndrome, but that just makes the sting so much worse when Zatara puts on the Helmet of Fate to save Zatanna. Sure by the time it happened his son is basically an adult, but it still hurts when his sister comes back home and tells him and his mother what happened. So while Zatanna joins the team and leaves home he is left to struggle with his emotions about what happened.

The young man is cleaning up some of his father’s things to tuck away in boxes because his mother is to grief stricken to even look at them, but then he found some of Zatara’s old journals where he wrote about his darling, when he was too young to remember, and he feels absolutely horrified about what his step father did. He thinks about asking his mother about it but he does not want to bring up any sad memories she might have lingering, and he is not going to ask Zatanna, because his sister is still in pain after what her dad did to protect her.

So he decides it might be best for him to leave so he can make peace with a few things.

He packs up his bags and does not even tell his mother or Zatanna that he is leaving, just leaving a note on the kitchen counter. He travels the world, becoming a mostly self taught magician, besides the few things his father taught him when he was younger. He calls Zatanna or his mother every so often and every time his sister sounds more and more worried, but he reassures her that he is not on a team of superheroes like she is, he is just trying to figure out where he belongs…

But that promise does not last long once he finds out about the rest of the Justice League and their darlings and he is enraged…

Arthur Curry’s son is technically a prince, but really he feels captive in his own home. His father may be half human but his mother is fully human, and so their son is mostly human, so one can imagine how hard it is for him to breathe underwater without some form of assistance. Arthur tried to get his son adapted overtime, but it just became too hard as he got older and he had to rely on assistance to breathe underwater like his mother. He would be the heir to the throne if it was not for having young siblings who were stronger than he was, truly he is not jealous but he is disappointed that he is seen as so fragile for being born into an environment his body mostly does not want to be in. He is hardly let outside just because his body already struggles enough being so deep underwater… he wonders if it would be different on the surface, he’s never been up there before.

By some miracle he convinces his retainers to let him explore, just for an hour or two, but then an hour turns into a day and a day turns into weeks. He feels so much more alive on land, his lungs don’t feel heavy like they are struggling to breathe.

But the Prince of Atlantis going missing is going to cause more than a few people to panic. Including Arthur himself.

With more children of the Justice League going missing they get more worried and stressed and begin a mass search for them if it was not for a certain someone…

Now Bruce Wayne’s daughter I have written about before, she was the vigilante know as Songbird in Gotham, she ran away years ago and in this universe when everything was said and done she went off all on her own, sure she based herself off Black Canary, but with most of the league like this she wants nothing to do with it.

She was the first one to run away from home and not being caught by the Batman is certainly a feat but she is certainly her father’s daughter, so when she hears the news about some of the children of Justice League members going missing because she definitely did not hack their server communications. So she finds each child of the Justice League and she helps them out, because to be honest they all want the same thing.

Setting up a place for everyone to stay safely after tracking them down one by one, she even went all the way to Paris to find Zatara’s son to convince him because he was doing a show there.

So she makes lead lined shirts for little Miss Supergirl so she cannot be found via powers. Then it gets get worse when she does finally get powers and being half Kryptonian hits her hard, especially when she has no one around to teach her how to control them, well almost no one. Luckily she has someone in her corner, who better to teach her than the daughter of the Batman who taught herself how to be a vigilante, it should not be that hard.

Each one wants to either help one of their parents or they straight up are doing this out spite. But trying to piece together a team of the heroes who have next to no idea what they are going to do. But becoming a team to spite their parents turned into them basically stopping villains before their parents do.

Extra things

I love the idea of Clark’s and Bruce’s daughters and Diana’s son be best friends who have never met, like the second the meet each other they just know that they are inseparable. The self trained vigilante, the boy raised by an Amazon, and the half Kryptonian girl. Then the training sessions and teaching Clark’s daughter how to control her newly gained powers almost always turns into just chatting and some sort of shenanigans.

I don’t know why but something about Zatara’s son gaining powers kind of like the Scarlet Witch from the MCU just makes sense to me. Also the idea of Doctor Fate having slight, or heavy, protective tendencies over him while Zatara is the host.

Also I did not put them down here but I also had ideas for Green Arrow’s & Black Canary’s daughter because they would definitely share a darling, and I might write a second part for them and a few others.

Then I also thought about Martian Manhunter and his darling having an adoptive daughter because she is a meta human with telepathic abilities, but then I got reminded of Charles Xavier and thinking that she would be just to similar and now that I am finishing up this post I don’t hate that idea.

[mellomadness]

sometimes I wonder if I should take a gender studies class just so I can bitch every day about how an imaginary boyfriend is often seen as a requirement for a woman to feel safe enough to have fun at a club, or the idea that an imaginary person with a fake “claim” over me has more influence over predatory men than my own voice saying “No, I’m not interested, get lost”

[fappellmoan]

um so exactly one person has responded abt coming to my little birthday celebration. so that’s cool

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

HI ILY!!! i was wondering if u could do a argument fic likeeeee katsuki and reader got into a argument and they are both DISTRAUGHT bc they’re so corny and in love and hate fighting but the argument was bad and they’re oh so sad whatever whatever !! and katsuki has to make it up to them EEE !! PLEASE I LIVE EAT SLEEP AND BREATHE UR FANFICS !! LOVE U CASHHH🤍

operation : trouble in paradise !

katsuki tries to get his boyfriend privileges back..

EEEE TYSM AND I ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ASK !! Its my guilty pleasure like both parties hating to argue bc they love each other so much im so sorry that’s adorable. and again ty SOOO much !!! hope you enjoy, ive actually gotten a similar ask, so that one ill try to have that come out soon !

FEM READER, katsuki is melodramatic, argument, fluff fluff despite argument, 3rd year bk squad boys !, kissing, making up yipeee, reader likes flowers,lemme know if i missed sum else !

“she fuckin’ hates me.”

for the past ten minutes he’d barged into kirishima’s room, bakugou has been moping. wallowing, even.

“no she doesn’t, man..” kirishima reassured. for the umpteenth time, he’s honestly lost count. he’d tried putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder earlier but said boy had shrugged him off angrily, grumbling out a dramatic “don’t touch me.” despite being flopped face down on his bed.

“i know her better, kirishima. yes she does.” the blonde insists, voice muffled by the redhead’s pillows. kirishima sighs, patting his friends leg before making his way to his office chair across from the bed, ignoring the muffled grumbles bakugou lets out.

“how bout you just..go apologize ?”

“i already told you i can’t. she—”

“yeah, she hates you. got it.” kirishima finishes his friends sentence, causing the blond to groan. “look dude, you’ll never know unless you try. you’ve been together for ages now.”

“a year.” katsuki corrects, he purposely forgets to mention he knows exactly how many months it has been too. kirishima nods excitedly, trying to get him out of his frankly sad state. “yeah ! so, this shouldn’t be anything man. arguments happen all the time, no matter how much you love each other.”

katsuki feels his ears burn at the word love on his friends lips, he’s told you he loved you of course. but it still felt weird to acknowledge it.

he turns just enough for his scowl to be visible to his friend, who sends him an encouraging smile.

“so what the fuck do i do then ?” kirishima grins wider, sharp teeth on display. “there we go, that’s more like ya, dude !” he exclaims. he quickly shuffles to grab a notepad strewn onto his messy desk (kirishima’s desk was so messy it made katsuki itch sometimes, a shiver almost passes through him whenever he sees the state it’s in)

kirishima drops onto the floor, placing the notepad onto his mattress and scribbling, with a pen katsuki has no idea where he fished out, a messy “operation: get your bf privileges back !!!!!!” bakugou fixes kirishima with a dead look, the other only tilts his head, still cheerful.

“what ?”

“what the fuck is this, kirishima.”

kirishima scoffs at the blonde’s dead tone, “listen man, you wanna win your girlfriend back or not ?!” bakugou squints at him, hard. but only let’s out a loud sigh. kirishima takes that as his answer and with a nod continues writing down notes.

katsuki groans to himself, looking down at his friend scribbling down his grand plan, and he better hope it works.

maybe you should call him..

no, you won’t. it was his fault you were like this anyway.

..but maybe you went a bit too far..?

ugh. you groan, rolling around in your bed. you’d tried to distract yourself by going through your tiktok feed but it seemed the world was against you or your fbi agent hated your guts. your feed was either overly cutesy couples content that made you miss your angry blond, or break up videos that made you miss him even more.

ugh. you shove your head even harder in your pillows.

you’re really trying to hold your ground, because you want katsuki to know he’d hurt your feelings, but now that you think about it you don’t even remember what you’d argued about. it was petty for sure, you’re about 80% sure it was a petty argument.

maybe you should—

you shake your head, steeling your nerves. so what if it was a dumb argument ?! that didn’t mean he could get away with everything!

“uuuugh,” you groan out loud, you miss your katsuki.

a knock at your door startles you. it must be mina, you’d texted her earlier that you were mad at your boyfriend and she’d told you that she “excepted all the deets of what his dumbass did this time as SOON as i get back !!!!” and you were waiting, maybe venting about it could make you feel better and less dramatic.

you open your door expecting to see your overly excited best friend. but instead—

flowers, almost whacking you in the face you might add, are shoved in your face before you can get a word out. you squeak in shock, they’re pretty though, your favorites. and you know only one person who knows what your favorite flowers are.

“wh-katsuki ?!”

and there he is, red faced and angry. scowl on his face and bouquet of pretty flowers in hand.

you can’t tear your eyes away from him, he can’t keep his eyes in one spot—flying from you occasionally to your door to the flowers and repeat. he blinks, you blink.

“here.” he grunts, waving the flowers towards you. “f’r you.” he glances at you.

“o-oh !” you exclaim suddenly, whisking the flowers towards yourself. the bouquet is big, it’s definitely a bit bigger than your head. katsuki searches your face to gauge your reaction“i—uhm! thank you..” you utter shyly, katsuki grunts. he shoves his hands in his pockets the moment you’ve gripped the bouquet, kicking at something you can’t see on the floor.

your heart skips a beat. tentatively, you lean against the door “didn’t take you for a flower guy..”

he scoffs, kicking the toe of his sneakers against the floor “‘m not.. but you like these, right ?”

trick question. he knows you do, you mentioned in passing these were your favorites, unless you suddenly decided you didn’t like these anymore. then he’s fucked. but he decides to continue despite the worry growing in his lower belly, the plan was already a go now.

“i—uhm, listen..” your boyfriend fumbles, he throws his head back and groans when his words won’t come out right. you give him a tiny smile, his eyes soften just a bit.

“i fucked up, okay ?” he admits, scratching at his nape “shouldn’t have said all that shit to you, or whatever..” you can tell he’s beyond embarrassed. he’d melt if he could get any redder, he keeps scratching and won’t look at you for more than a few seconds at a time and katsuki who’s always the loudest in the room can barely manage a mumble. you know he means it though, he never did anything he didn’t feel like doing. you wait for him to continue and he looks at you then.

“i don’t ever like arguing with you. ever.” he insists “so jus..forgive me, kay ?” he finishes quietly. your heart jumps and leaps and you can’t stand acting cold anymore. you walk a bit closer to him, the flowers block you from fully being close to him.

katsuki’s eyes are wide as you lean in to kiss right next to his lips, you laugh at his bewildered expression and his eyes soften when he snaps out of it. he rolls his eyes, you smile wider.

“i forgive you, i’m sorry too. i don’t like arguing with you either..” you admit, katsuki reaches for your hand, you feel the tips of his fingers brush against your skin, you give it to him and he grips it tight. then he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips, it’s a sweet little apology kiss that turns a bit too passionate after a while, and you pull him towards you and into your room away from prying eyes. katsuki kicks the door shut behind him and pulls you closer by your waist.

“guess i gotta—thank shitty hair..” he mumbles in between kisses, “an’ i owe him twenty bucks.”

you make a noise against his lips and pull away, raising a brow and holding his shoulders when he tries to lean in to kiss you again. “what’s that mean ?”

your boyfriend huffs “told shitty hair i’d give him twenty bucks if his shitty plan worked.”

“plan, what plan ?” you ask, katsuki squints at you, a grumbling noise comes from his throat, almost a whine.

“yer really gonna make me spell it out aren’t you..” he mutter bitterly, shoving his head in your neck. he continues, “shitty hair helped me come up with a plan to make you not mad at me anymore. i told him it wouldn’t work, he said it would, and we bet on it.”

you laugh in disbelief, katsuki chomps at your neck to silence you, squeezes his arms tighter around your stomach to make you wheeze, but you can’t stop laughing. “that’s so cute !”

“shaddup.” he growls in response. you muffle your giggles in his shoulder. katsuki grumbles some more and you run your hands up and down his back.

“well then,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his nape, his arms around you tighten. “i guess we’ll both have to thank kiri then.”

[glamourscat]

Some general hcs about the blue lock guys? Maybe if they are a girl or boy dad? Idk, anything of the sort thx 🙏🏻

Girls dads vs boys dads BLLK BOYS EDITION

GIRL'S DAD

⁃ REO MF MIKAGE. He is the N1 girl’s dad. So much that he *will* accidentally spoil her to the moon and back (literally). And he will hit you with “but look at her and her puppy eyes? How can you resist her? Is not my fault if she asked to own a star in her name for her birthday. It’s the least I could do for my own little star “

⁃ ISAGI: I don’t think I need to elaborate on him. But I will, because i love to yap. It's canon (or i think? i am pretty sure i have read it in the egoist bible but i cannot find the link i had saved for the life of me) that he would have loved a younger sister growing up. So it just makes sense.

⁃ BAROU : he has two younger sisters to which it's canon he cares and loves them for his dear life. Barou pretty much is already wired in husband and father mode ⁃ YUKIMIYA: purely out of personal vibes.

HEAR ME OUT ON THIS ONE:

⁃ SHIDOU: In the eventual future where this little gremlin fixes whatever he has going on, he would make such a good girl dad. Why? vibes. He just fits the girl's dad vibes i can't explain to you why, you either see it or don't.

At the same time tho, I also see him as the unhinged, fun uncle who is everywhere at once. Living his life the most weirdly, yet oddly free, way.

BOY'S DAD (this is all about pure vibes honestly)

⁃ KUNIGAMI

⁃ CHIGIRI

⁃ GAGAMARU

BOTH

⁃ BACHIRA: My favourite Bee. He just wants a child honestly, in a very far future. He would be such a great dad. The fun, loving and just an absolute gem. He just want at least 2 kids, boy or girl doesn't matter as long as he can shower them with love.

⁃ NIKO

NONE

⁃ NAGI: I mean lmao.. self explanatory. He thinks everything is an hassle. Definitely doesn’t want kids

⁃ ARYU: I can’t personally see him having kids, he lives a stress free life and kids are definetly no stress free— he is the cool aunt that travels the world, has always some crazy stories up his sleeve and loves expensive wine and clothes.

⁃ KAISER: his childhood was everything but good. And the scars he suffered are a life time reminder of the neglect and abuse he faced. The amount of trauma cannot be healed over the course of a month nor a few years, it's a constant learning curve that will follow him until his last breath. Honestly speaking, just like Rin-- but in a more complicated way here, it would be extremely hard to get into a relationship with him alone. I cannot image how dating/ married and having a kid would work with his twisted way of seeing life and relationships.

⁃ SAE: emotional range of a tea spoon. I can’t see him settling down in a marriage, much less having a kid.

⁃ RIN: this is complicated, because I think he could settle in the “both” category and here. The thing is, objectively speaking, he is very selfish. His football career will come before anything, and like we see, he is not thinking twice before cutting people off if needed. Thus, if he doesn’t change his mindset/grow up.. if he wants a long, standing football career, I cannot see him settling any time soon. Not to mention his struggle to make friends, let alone being in a relationship. But, in the case he does change, I think he would like two kids for sure.

[sexlapis]

Actor!Toji has my heart and soul.

Imagine while they’re still trying to hide their relationship something gets out that it’s a real relationship and now the internet is going crazy. They’re still trying to deny it, but sadly there’s a paparazzi photo of them in a very.. interesting position, and they really can’t deny it. One of them on live or in an interview and all they are being asked is about the relationship and the photo. How far is either one willing to go before they crack and confirm their relationship?.. I’m going crazy

UHM…ARE YOU GUYS DATING?

ʚɞ actor!toji x gn!reader

s4w, one shot, short fic, fluff, crack, unintentional relationship reveal (toji’s fault ofc…)

a/n: these asks have been in my inbox since november 2023 so…sorry about that.

actor!toji masterlist

general masterlist

*

What you and Toji were doing was just a complete joke at this point.

The blatant glances in interviews, the paparazzi pictures of you two together in cafes, museums, on set, at parties, the shocking innuendo replies under each others posts, the way you were always caught wearing a clothing item of Toji’s at least once a month…

…Just who did you think you were fooling?

Because it definitely was not the internet.

Every so often, after a questionable photo of the two of you or a clip of you both being overly physical in an interview, your names would be trending or your ship name.

Parasocial relationships on social media have no bounds.

People were assuming, guessing, planning, solving and just plain trying to figure out what on earth was going on between the two of you.

Some thought you were just close friends, others believed you two were so obviously dating.

But everyone agreed on one thing: there was no way that the relationship you and Toji had was platonic.

No way.

Of course, when asked about the nature of your relationship, which was very often, you both denied it.

“We’re both just friends”, you’d say.

“We’re just really close”, Toji would say.

“I couldn’t ask for a better person to be friends with”, you’d say.

“Well, yeah, I like her a lot…doesn’t mean anything’s going on!” Toji would claim

But all of these lies come to an end when a picture comes to a light.

You and Toji, at the park, sitting on the grass and…you’re stradding his lap, facing him and cupping his cheeks and Toji’s smiling, no, not one of his sleazy smirks, he’s really smiling like he’s looking at the love of his life.

There was nothing either of you could say - no like you could utter, no truth you could tell - that would stop everyone from stating the very obvious.

You and Toji are a couple.

And the internet is going crazy.

The top three hashtags that were trending on the day the photo was leaked were: #TOJIYN, #THEY’RE DATING?, and #I KNEW IT.

So it is safe to say that…everyone knew.

And nobody is shocked. Not really.

A week after that compromising photo was leaked, Toji is invited to speak on a popular podcast.

It barely even takes ten minutes before it is mentioned.

“Toji, thank you for coming! It’s really great to have you here!” The host praises, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

“Yeah, of course, thanks for-“”

“Are you and y/n dating?”

Toji stops mid sentence, his mouth open and seemingly surprised by the hosts’ straightforwardness.

“Uh-“”

“Because there’s a photo of the two of you.” The host presses on. “You know that, right?”

“I-“”

“Let’s a take a look.”

The podcast host picks up a remote, one that controls the computer monitor, clicks a button snd there it is…the leaked picture of you an Toji.

“See? Look at that.” The podcaster says, shaking his head. “What do you have to say about that, Toji?”

“Uhhh…” Toji bites his lip. “…I had something on my face. She wanted to take look at it.”

“Look at it or sit on it?”

“LOOK at it.” Toji confirms, a soft blush rising on the apples of his cheeks. “Just wanted to…you know, see what his was.” He shrugs, scratching the stubble on his face.

Toji and the podcaster are silent for a few moments, staring at each other.

“You guys are dating.”

“Yeahh, we’re dating.”

*

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[soobnny]

invisible string theory — yang jungwon. acquaintances to lovers. high school au. slice of life.

inspired by that one line from glue song, “you’ve been hiding in plain sight, then appeared” (2.6k words)

The problem with having 60 students per classroom is you were bound to make a stranger to at least thirty of them. And for someone who doesn’t talk much, it was like meeting half of your classmates for the first time every morning.

You kept close to your circle of friends, just like everyone else did, and kept in mind where to make eye contact when your homeroom teacher announces a group activity. You liked working with the same group of people, so you held a pretty stable and balanced routine at school. Always sitting at the same seat, always staying in the classroom with your packed lunch during break time, and always riding the same train home. 

Though, from time to time, a few anomalies would pose themselves to your perfectly lined scheduled—the rain always increased the time it would take to get to school, a predetermined group stands as a barrier between the people you know you work well with, and apparently Mr. Snuffles and his paws that had messed up your alarm clock. The culprit lays on your bed as you hurriedly rush around your room to get to school in time. You’re sure you could make it if the station followed the schedule of when the trains would depart. Preparing your lunch, however, would be impossible, and you would just have to stop by a convenience store before attending homeroom.

You disliked the canteen. Students lived off of crowds, an impossibly long line, and an even poorer selection of food than what you can find in a convenience store. It would take half of your break just to get food, and the rest of the half eating. It’s better when you can hold time in your hands in the classroom. 

Opening the door to the convenience store, it was almost a relief to find it almost empty, save for a few students who were probably either getting breakfast, lunch, or a snack. When it was your turn to have your meal checked out, it takes you about 10 seconds to realize you might’ve left your wallet at home. And it takes even faster to confirm when you rummage through your bag and come out empty-handed. 

Damn you, Mr. Snuffles. 

You realize you didn’t spare the time to double check your bag when your sister had borrowed it over the weekend and probably put some of your essentials out. 

Burden raced and dropped down your shoulders as you struggled to explain to the cashier if she could disregard scanning it in the first place. Though, you aren’t given ample time to get your thoughts across when money is handed to her from next to you. 

He looks familiar, the boy with the short and a little disheveled hair. It looks pretty, falling over his forehead, like he came off a 90s magazine. He gives you a look, enigmatic almost, though smiling as he puts his wallet back in his bag. 

“Thank you.” You spoke shyly, though he only grins, showing off his perfect white teeth.

“You’re (Name), right? I’m Jungwon, we’re in the same class.” 

So that’s why he looked familiar. The only thing you knew about him was that he had a dog, had introduced him on the first day of class with a photo. Everything else, you learned from those around you; he was smart, taking most of the offered advanced subjects, he had multiple senior friends whom he eats with at the canteen, and he was apparently a great dancer. 

“Ohh, I knew you looked familiar.” Your mouth parts in recognition. “Thanks again for saving my ass back there. My cat had messed up my alarm and I left my wallet so today’s just been a disaster so far.” You laugh a little at the tangent your schedule had gone off to. 

“You have a cat?” Jungwon’s eyes light up, and you instantly pull out your phone to show him a picture. “This is Mr. Snuffles.” 

“Mr. Snuffles.” He repeats softly, smiling down at your phone as he shows you his own lockscreen. 

“Now I feel inclined to introduce Maeumi.” 

“Your Maltese puppy, right?” He watches as you dip your head down to look at his phone, grin spread out prettily as you coo quietly. 

“How’d you know?” 

“You introduced him back during first day, I think.” Jungwon looks genuinely surprised that you remember, mouth dropping before he nods his head with the same soft smile on his lips. 

“Well, since we’re heading the same way, do you wanna walk together?” 

For an answer, you grin up at him and say a brisk “sure”, matching your footsteps with his as you walk up the stairs of your school together. 

Conversation flies easy with Jungwon, almost too easy as you talk for the entirety of the short walk to your classroom. You discuss about your poorly functioning lockers, your plans for the upcoming Christmas break, and complain alike about the multitude of projects assigned to you for the first half of the school year. 

“How’s your Biology project holding up?” The instant groan that leaves your lips triggers a laugh from Jungwon. Though, he should’ve been able to predict your reaction after previously just complaining about Ms. Hwang and her 20-page paper about cell division. 

“I swear my head’s gonna explode if I read one more article about mitosis and meiosis.” 

You whine as you walk through another flight of stairs, and his laughter continues to mix with your light-hearted complaints. 

“No, same. My eyes were falling out while I was working on page 12 yesterday.” Jungwon’s hand brushes against yours as a group of students run by you, pressing his shoulder against yours and holding out an arm to make sure they don’t bump into you. 

“Well, they look like they were in a hurry.” He only chuckles before peeling himself away from you. He gives you his full attention. “Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” You laugh, and he smiles at the confirmation. 

“I can’t believe this is the first time we’re actually talking.” There’s disbelief in his tone as he pushes the doors to your homeroom open. “This was fun.” 

“I’ll pay you back tomorrow!”

“There’s really no need.”

The bell interrupts your conversation, and you walk to your respective seats just as your homeroom teacher slips into the classroom. 

+

You don’t meet Jungwon for another month.

After that conversation, you had both returned to the routines you had set for yourselves, and you go back to treating that day as a single anomaly in your perfectly curated schedule. Though, now you find your ears perk up at the slightest mention of his name. 

Similarly, Sunoo’s confused by his friend’s sudden interest when your name had slipped past his mouth. It was something Sunoo had said in the passing, you were simply a side character in the story he’s narrating, yet Jungwon seems to put an awful amount of attention to that part of his story.

“Are you even listening to me?” A whine leaves Sunoo’s lips.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you were in the same club as (Name).” 

“You know her?”

“Yeah… well not really. She’s my classmate, but we aren’t close.” 

“Sounds to me like you have a crush.” He smirks, taking a bite out of his lunch before looking at Jungwon with an accusing eye. 

“I do not have a crush. I was just asking!” Defensive. Just like he always is when he’s getting caught for lying. Jungwon knows better than to hide something from Sunoo. 

“I literally just said (Name) passed me a paintbrush and you’re acting like she’s the main character of my story which, by the way, is ME.” 

“I don’t have a crush.” Jungwon grumbles. 

“Look, there she is right now.” 

Jungwon’s head whips at an impossible rate, an impressive distance over time that Isaac Newton might as well have made a fourth law of motion. His head is craned, scanning over the cafeteria in search of you before a pin drops in his head and he turns back in shame at having been fooled by Kim Sunoo of all people. 

Sunoo laughs, and Jungwon drops his head on the cafeteria table in embarrassment. “Wipe that stupid smile off your face.” 

Though, despite Jungwon’s sudden interest, it still takes almost thirty days after your chance encounter for you to meet again at the same convenience store. It was another day to grab a small breakfast from the quaint store, and it looks like you had the same idea when the bell rings and Jungwon spots you already in line. 

“Do you mind if I could wait in line with you? It’s getting pretty long.” 

Your head turns at the sudden voice. Soft tones as always. 

“Jungwon, hi! Sure.” You allow him to stand with you in line, and he curiously peeks down at the meal in your hands. The same lunch bowl from a month ago. “Don’t you eat lunch in the classroom? Did Mr. Snuffles do something again?”

“You can say that.” You chuckle. It’s endearing that he remembers. 

And just like a month ago, you walk to class together. He waits for you by the door, only resuming his walk when you’ve caught up to him. “So the Biology paper?” 

His eyes flicker to you when you laugh.

“Almost done, finally.” 

“So, your head didn’t explode?”

“Thankfully not. I think I have Mr. Snuffles to thank for that. He enjoys just putting a paw on my hand as I work, though he is quite distracting. We even got him this little laptop toy so he’d stop stepping on mine.” 

Jungwon smiles. “I’ve read about that somewhere, how cats imitate what you do or somewhere along those lines.”

“Does Maeumi do anything silly like that?”

“Well, it might’ve actually been my fault.” He holds onto the paper bag with your meals, fiddling with the paper. “I thought it would be cool to teach him to get the newspaper by walking her to the door and giving her a treat when she’d carry it back. Long story short, one morning, I found every paper from the street.” 

You shake when you laugh, it’s something Jungwon has noticed. It’s breathy and full as you picture it in your head, and Jungwon brightens up at being able to make you laugh.

That morning, you learn of Jungwon’s own routine, just like you. Every morning, he walks to school and accompanies some kids from his neighborhood, dropping them off at the preschool before heading to school. It’s why he doesn’t have time to eat breakfast at home. He plays with Maeumi a little bit too, running around with her in the sun despite having just woken up. At school, he sits at the front and minds his own business, and he eats at the cafeteria to accompany his friends. It’s the only free time they share together.

It’s nice talking to him. You think it might be the first time in a while that you’re talking to someone outside your small circle, and it’s a little refreshing to be offered a fresh sight of the world around you. He thinks differently, the type of person that has something to offer for your personal growth, the type that casts a life-long impression.

So, as you near your classroom, your shoulders drop at having to say goodbye to him again.

You think it’ll take another thirty days to talk to him, but it turns out, as insane as Ms. Hwang is, you might owe a bit to her for pairing you and Jungwon up to do an errand for her. It’s something about the coming Science Camp your school holds, and the need to get signatures from a few teachers. You don’t know why she’s letting two high school students do her job for her, but you comply because you have no choice. 

“The school always plans disastrous events. I remember our Freshman day, when they let us play those games, that was a whole thing in itself.” You mumble, holding onto the piece of paper and scanning over the list of faculty offices you have to visit. So far, you’ve successfully gotten five signatures out of twelve.

“I remember that! I played in the balloon game, and I was partnered up with a girl. My friends did not stop teasing me for weeks.” 

“Wait, I played in the balloon game too.” You look up at him, eyes bright as you recall the memory.

“Don’t tell me.” 

“Were you wearing a black shirt?”

“I was! What the hell!” He pulls out his phone to look for a photo of that day, scrolling through his phone before shoving the screen to your face. “That’s me!” 

“Oh my god.” 

You lock your eyes to his, and the two of you fall in shared laughter at the chances. You would’ve guessed the possibility falls at less than 1% considering the amount of freshmen students at the time, and the thought that Jungwon had been tied to you by some invisible string on that day is something so enchanting. 

As if, since that day, you’d been tied together and were slowly inching closer and closer until this very moment years later. 

“I can’t believe it was you! My friends couldn’t let me catch a break when I caught you before you could fall face flat.” 

“Look, I’m not the most coordinated person. You put me in a game where people are out to pop the balloon tied around my ankle and you’re basically asking me to fall over my own feet.” 

“But we won, didn’t we? Wasn’t I a good protector?”

“You were alright.” You tease, and he gasps dramatically in response.

“Go ask for the rest of the signatures by yourself.”

“I was kidding! I was kidding! You were the greatest protector of them all, I couldn’t have asked for a better partner.” Jungwon smirks, though, he feels like he’s about to melt in a puddle. 

“That’s better.”

The rest of the time gathering signatures are spent in conversation and laughter. Jungwon would’ve hated staying behind to do more work, would’ve complained about it in the group chat with his friends, but he finds himself enjoying it because he’s with you. It would’ve been hell if it wasn’t with you. 

“I can’t believe we’ve talked more this past month than the last couple years.” You hold onto the straps of your backpack as you leave school together. The sun is starting to set, and the impatient moon peeks from afar. 

Jungwon is almost open-mouthed when the sun hits your face like that. When you look back at him because he’s suddenly falling behind, eyebrow lifted with a smile on your face. He’s sure you know your hypnotizing effect, and you still have the nerve to act oblivious about it. 

He takes a step closer. 

“Do you maybe wanna grab a bite? It’s getting late, and I’m a little hungry.” His words come out hitched, and he’s punching himself over the very obvious nervousness in his voice–as if the way he looks at you isn’t obvious enough to how he feels.

“I’d like that.”

A few months later, Jungwon would ask you to be his and Mr. Snuffles would get all the treats he could possibly want for altering the course of your routine and allowing you to bump into Jungwon. 

+ 

“Babe, you seriously need to stop leaving your wallet. I’m starting to think this is all a ploy so I’ll keep paying for your meals.”

“Sorry.” You smile sheepishly. 

“I was kidding. I may have lost a couple won, but I got you out of it.”

“Are you telling me I’m worth just a couple won?”

“What? No, wait! That’s not what I meant!”

[yuwuta]

mine. — inumaki toge

❝i just wanna say you’re mine, you’re mine; fuck what you heard, you’re mine, you’re mine.

000. inumaki toge + reader

001. fluff, non-curse/college au, slightly suggestive but barely, inumaki uses sign language and speaks like two actual verbal words

002. baby sized drabble, barely even 1k words

Toge would consider himself patient. He doesn’t mind waiting in long lines for the release of a new game, has no problem when the trains are delayed because it means he can sit and relax in the station a little longer, can sit for hours on end doing nothing and not be bored—but his tolerance for watching other people mess with his girlfriend is extremely low.

He reasons that you continue the conversation because you think it’s merely friend and polite to do so, and you’ve always been such a pleasantly happy drunk. But Toge knows this conversation isn’t friendly on the other end—and it’s not some protective boyfriend instinct, either, he has solid evidence of this idiot talking about you to his other idiot friend in front of Toge during lecture, with no knowledge that he was behind them, or that you are very not single.

(“She’s gorgeous, bro, look,” the kid muses, showing his friend your Instagram profile, “She’s in my bioethics class, and she’s easily the hottest girl. Smart, too. Little bit of a teacher’s pet, but I don’t care, she’s beautiful. A solid eight, for sure.”)

Toge knows that if this guy ever got his head out of his ass and ever bucked up the balls to actually ask you out instead of using roundabout flirting tactics and hopelessly pining over you during lectures, that you’d turn him down. He isn’t worried about losing you, and he doesn’t doubt your love for him. It does, however, concern him that there are people who believe they have a shot with you in the first place. He can’t possibly let that carry on. 

(Also, an eight? How could this guy call you beautiful, but say you’re an eight? It doesn’t equate—Toge doesn’t believe in rating women, but you’re not an eight. You’re a fifteen on a scale of one to ten; a shining star amongst a sea of planets; the love of his life). 

His fuse is about to blow when the guy touches you, reaches for your hair and carefully twirls a bit between his fingers. He knows that move; he knows the excuse was probably that there was something stuck to your hair, but Toge didn’t see shit. He’s had enough, and promptly bulldozes through Maki’s small apartment to reach you. He’s not sure if he’s making a ruckus, or if you can sense him coming, but you turn your head in his direction, a smile spreading on your face before cheering, “Hey, Toge! Do you—”

You’re cut off by a tug on your shirt, firm and impatient—but you’re not moving yet, not quick enough, so he does it again. Your eyes seem to light up with realization. You turn back to acknowledge the boy, and that’s really when Toge really loses it. All he hears is the stupid, desperate pitch of the kid’s voice sputtering out something about finding you later and grabbing drinks for you both, even as Toge’s dragging you through the crowd.

You let yourself be pulled by Toge’s greedy hand. It’s not all that far, just into a corner of the hallway, next to a closet where Maki keeps her cleaning and kickboxing supplies. He’s tempted to pull you into her bedroom, but he’s not up for being bruised for a week. 

“You okay?” you question, voice sweet and genuine—and it makes him grimace, because you really didn’t have a clue. Not one at all. 

Toge huffs, drops your hand to sign; using his left hand to circle around his face slowly, tapping at his chin. You understand, but only partially, given the slight tilt of your head and question that follows, “Beautiful? That’s why you’re upset?” 

He blinks slowly, shaking his head and flailing his arms in the direction of the living room. You follow his hands, down the hall then back to his face, but he can tell you still don’t get it. He tries again, pointing to you, then repeating his previous sign and adding another, and he can see the realization spread across your face, followed shortly by a bashful chuckle. 

“Too pretty? Me?” you ask to confirm. Toge nods his head, all serious and steely eyes, but you throw yours back with a hearty laugh this time. He crinkles his eyebrows, repeating his initial signs this time. Hdoesn’t know what’s so funny, if you’re laughing because you’re flattered or you find him ridiculous or something in between, but Toge means it either way; wants to ingrain it into you, just how beautiful you are.

So, he raises his hands again, when your eyes have met him again, and goes slower this time—pulls his mask down for good measure, so you can read his expression more clearly—to sign one simple word: “Mine.”

You tilt your head to the side again, and now Toge is the one laughing. He thinks you might be a little more drunk than you’ve let on, or maybe you just want him to indulge you. Either way, he has no problem repeating himself, doesn’t mind telling you again and again and again. 

He takes a step forward, leaving mere inches between you. You seem much smaller than him like this, still giggling, but he doesn’t mind. Toge reaches for your rest again, turning your palm upward and using a single finger to trace the letters of the word “mine,” onto your skin.

Your laughter comes to a halt when you verbalize his words, “Mine?” Toge nods, turning your wrist again to lace your hands together, pushes yours against the wall, uses his free one to cradle your cheek. He adores the way your pupils get bigger, the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. It’s his turn to smile, pulling you towards him for a kiss and ghosting his words over your lips, “You’re mine.”

[f1gur4t1v3]

Part 2 of my “Jason and his many parents”

I will forever love the idea of Harvey “I lost all that I loved due to a freak accident, so I will be the dad who stepped-up” Dent, and his adopted son, Jason “My past father figure and I get into physical fights weekly and I need someone who won’t abandon me for who I am” Todd.

Bruce Wayne played an important role in both Jason and Harvey’s lives, Bruce was the man who took Jason in and failed to save him when Jason needed him most. He was also Harvey’s best friend, supported him through out his campaign to become mayor, and then failed to save Harvey from the acid that made him the man he is now.

Harvey understands the pain Jason feels, they both resent the same man and it makes it easier for them to bond. Jason doesn’t think he’ll ever see Harvey as a father figure no matter how hard he tries, the last two he’s had hurt him more than anything in the world, so maybe if he doesn’t believe Harvey is his dad he won’t hurt him as well.

Of course with a super villain dad you get some fun though, Jason doesn’t help out with heists but he doesn’t exactly stop them either. He’s sorta just there eating a sandwich or stalking Harvey from a far off building to make sure his other family doesn’t beat the Two Faced man to hard.

And then you obviously have the crime family. Aunt Harley and Ivy come around often to have tea with Jason, Harley likes to talk with him about life and just making sure he’s doing alright in general.

Obviously you also have Uncle Cobblepot as well, Jason’s not the biggest fan of him. He feels odd calling someone who owns the club he’s seen Bruce stripping at before in his Bruce Wayne persona uncle. That doesn’t stop him from seeing him as a part of the crime family though.

Who could forget Step-mom Selina as well, she helps Jason catch up on Bruce and his siblings lives. He can’t be there to experience it but just hearing about what’s happening from Selina is more than enough to make him happy.

Last but not least you have Edward and Crane. They’re not exactly uncles to Jason. They’re better than Penguin though because he’s never had to see a naked Bruce dancing for them before. He helps Eddie out with Riddles, giving personal hints about the Batman’s life to spice up the stakes. Then he is able to study Scarecrows latest Fear Toxin remake before he goes and holds some poor guy hostage.

To say Jason wasn’t spoiled either would be an understatement. From necklaces that compliment his eyes from Selina’s latest burglary, to Penguin setting some of his men up around Crime Alley to keep Batman out of his territory. He may not be the kid any of the major Villians wanted, but by god do they love him.

He’s their giant ball of pure muscle who looks like he could snap you in half, but inside he’s just a sweet boy who’s been looking for someone who’s willing to tolerate and love him, especially when it feels like nobody will. The villains refuse to let another soul stray down the path they did, so they all take the broken Robin under their wings and teach him how to fly again with hopes that one day he’ll rejoin the bats in their nest.

[emsdevs]

The Return

Bear and Bug 🐻🐞

a/n: surprise!! kirby talked me into splitting this part up, so you all get one more part of the main conflict after this!! enjoy!!!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Bear and Bug Masterlist

Three weeks had passed since you arrived at Cole’s place, and he’s been trying everything under the sun to get you to return to the lake house with him. Today, after getting out of bed, you find out he’s pulled out the big guns. When you walk into the living room, you’re met with not only Cole but also Trevor and Alex. Apparently, Cole had filled them in on the situation, and they changed their flights to Montreal to come help. 

“C’mon. It can’t be that bad. I know for a fact Jack misses you,” Trevor is currently trying to encourage you to come with them, your packed suitcase sitting beside him. At some point during the night, they had snuck into your room and packed your bags, leaving you with no “good” excuse not to go with them.

“You talked to him?” your head shoots toward Trevor, hope filling your eyes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought.

“...No,” he looks toward the ground as he speaks, “but! I know Jack, and I know he’s probably falling apart at the seams if you two haven’t talked in three weeks. You’re his person. He’s probably dying right now.”

“Oh, great. I’m killing my best friend! This is exactly what I was worried about when Quinn and I got together. He’s been having such a tough time, and I’ve made it a hundred times worse. I’ll be lucky if he ever talks to me again.”

“You’re right. She is being dramatic,” Alex whispers to Cole before stepping forward to try to comfort you. “Look, sweetheart, the only way to make this any better is to bite the bullet. I know you’re scared, but you can’t keep running away from it.”

You were silent for a moment, shocked by the wisdom from Alex. After gathering your thoughts, you spoke, “You’re right. Let me go be sure you all got everything, and then we can head out.”

“No way that worked,” Cole couldn’t believe their plan worked in their favor.

“Bro, when did you become a shrink?”

~~

The tension at the lake house was higher than ever. Ellen and Jim had given up on trying to help their sons work out their issues, so they drove back home for a while, letting the boys stew in their anger. The boys had done nothing except that. Quinn and Luke silently shared an alliance while Jack either ignored them completely or began picking fights. 

“Hope you two are ready to go running back to your precious Bug,” Jack told the other two boys as he walked to the kitchen to grab a snack.

“What do you mean?” Luke answered, sass written all over his question.

“Trev just texted me. He, Alex, and Cole just boarded their flight. With Bug.”

“She’s coming back?” Quinn couldn’t hide the hope in his voice. He didn’t care how Jack felt anymore. He was miserable, and he needed his Bug. 

“Don’t get all excited. That doesn’t mean she’s getting back together with you,” Jack rolled his eyes.

“Don’t tell me you think she’s coming back for you,” Luke doesn’t even attempt to hide the sneer in his voice.

“She’s my best friend, Lukey. Of course, she’s coming back to get in my good graces.” 

“Are you kidding me? Look at how you’ve been treating her, Jack! We’re all lucky she’s even coming back at all!” Quinn is angry now. You’ve probably been hurting more than he has for the past three weeks, and Jack is acting all high and mighty like you’ll come crawling back to him. As far as Quinn is concerned, you don’t need to come crawling back to anybody. If anything, the three of them owe you an apology.

“Of course, you’re sticking up for her! God, she has you wrapped around her finger! You’re so whipped you can’t see that she’s the problem here!”

“No, you don’t get to do that. You know Quinn is right. You’ve been horrible to her, and she deserves an apology. From all of us, honestly. Jesus, I mean, she even put your feelings above her happiness. She and Quinn could have been so happy, but you were complaining about how horrible the NHL is every night, so her main concern was protecting you. Mind you, you are not one of the two people in that relationship, so the fact she took your feelings about it into account at all is a kind of grace that you obviously don’t deserve. Why don’t you get down from your high horse and think about everything Bug has done for you? Then, you can tell us if she’s the one that needs to apologize or not,” Luke doesn’t give Jack time to answer, walking off as soon as he finishes his speech. Quinn doesn’t hesitate in following, only giving Jack a sharp look before making his way to your room once again. He found Luke already there, so they sat on your bed together, putting on a movie and soon falling asleep.

Jack, now alone in the living room, takes the time to do as Luke said. He thought back to when he knew you’d be his best friend forever. You two had silently agreed to have separate friend groups at school, but when you saw Jack’s friends had left him alone one day at lunch, you left your friends to go sit with him. They stopped talking to you after that, but you were fine with it because you had Jack. He thought about everything you had sacrificed for him, even skipping out on joining an afterschool club because it would conflict with some of his game times. How many times had you put Jack first, even when you could’ve had something really good for you if you had put yourself first? He could think of at least one: Quinn. He’s a horrible best friend. 

Jack lost track of how long he sat there, losing himself in his thoughts that were slowly becoming more and more self-deprecating, but before he knew it, he heard the front door opening. Moments later, he jumps to his feet when he sees you walk into the living area.

“Hey,” he says, slightly out of breath.

“Hey.”

taglist: @heartsforjh @devilinpradaheels @coldheartedmar @juxmi @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @hockey43 @madebyhappymeals @ccomandercody @kirajessie @beenucks @iamspeed6

join the taglist

[girliism]

being best friends with art and patrick was supposed to mean all romantic feelings were off limits.

“wait so you made out with both of them?” your cousin asked. “first of all i did not make out with either of them it was just a friendly kiss.” you had told her about the kiss you and art shared at formal and then the one you and patrick had yesterday. “friendly kisses don’t last so long that the two of you break away to breathe.” she makes a good point, they were far from friendly. but admitting that means you have to admit how your stomach erupted in a fit of butterflies during both kisses.

“what the fuck is this?” patrick walks over to you and art waving his class schedule in the air. “we don’t have home room together.” the three of you huddle up looking at your papers. “oh he’s right we don’t.” art points out. “at least we have every other class together.” you say. “at least? AT LEAST. we are supposed to have all classes together what if i get stuck with weirdos? who’s homework will i copy? i should get my parents up here.” patrick’s complains “honestly i don’t think it’s that bad it’s just home room pat you’ll live.” art patted his shoulder.

being without the two boys glued to either side of you was weird you felt exposed. “hi, can i sit here.” a voice asked from next you. “yea sure.” you look up to be faced with a boy. he was definitely new cause there’s no way you would forget a face like that. “i’m luke by the way. i just moved here.” you introduce yourself and the two of you talk all class time. “we have three classes together plus lunch which you can totally sit with me at.” you offer. he was new and didn’t have many friends you were being nice. “cool, i’ll look for you.” he smiled at you and you felt your cheeks heat up.

art and patrick were already at lunch when you walked in with luke. “art! patrick! this is luke he’s new i said he could sit with us.” you plop down in between them. art and patrick eye the boy suspiciously “hey, i’m luke.”

you and luke started dating a little while after that and art and patrick were not feeling it. “luke is nice why don’t you guys like him?” you pout just wanting them to get along. art hated him because of the tender way he’d kiss you when he thought no one was watching. but art was watching, burning with jealousy. patrick hated him because now with him in the picture you stopped letting patrick lay his head on your lap and combing your fingers through his hair opting to do that for your boyfriend instead. “it’s just we know nothing about the kid.” art says mouth full of popcorn. “yea this kid could a fugitive for all we know. you don’t want you to get pregnant by a fugitive do you?” patrick ever so dramatic adds. you scoffed. “what is your obsession with my womb.” “i just don’t want anything in it ok. you’d probably look ugly pregnant anyways. i’m helping you.” you stare at him in shock. patrick shows his love in weird ways.

you loved luke he was sweet and funny but he wasn’t art or patrick, and the feelings you were trying to ignore you had for them was getting harder.

“when is art coming this project is due tomorrow.” you flop down on your bed. “he said he can’t make it and to just do it without him.” so you and patrick worked for three straight hours. “uughhh, can we please take a break and watch a movie or something.” patrick groans draping his big body over your pressing your cheeks together. “fine.” you push him off of you getting up to close the curtains turing on a movie.

you’ve been alone with patrick before but this felt different. suddenly you were hyper aware of whenever his arm brushed against yours and how it would made your heart speed up. “are we ever gonna talk about the kiss?” patrick doesn’t know why he brings it up. the question was coming out before he could even think. your eye widen. “what is there to talk about.” you wanted to throw up. “maybe how i wouldn’t mind doing it again.” you can feel patrick’s eyes studying your side profile trying to read your thoughts. patrick always thought you were pretty. “i have a boyfriend.” you whisper looking into his eyes. he just mumbles ok before kissing you.

that was the beginning of something for you and patrick but unknowingly the end for the three of you.

“oh don’t the three of you look adorable. come on say cheese.” it was year end formal and you, art and patrick were standing in the foyer of your house while your guys parents took more than enough photos. “you look good.” patrick leans down to whisper in your ear hand resting lower than it should be. you and patrick have been sneaking around all school year and yea you felt horrible for cheating on your boyfriend but mostly you hated how you were lying to art.

knocks hit your door pull you from your thoughts. “oh! that must be luke.” your mom says opening the door to invite him in. “babe, you look great.” he smiles a you pulling you in for a kiss. art and patrick burn imaginary lasers into his head.

formal was fun much better that last year. you danced with both art and patrick at the same time giggling and stepping on each other’s feet. you snuck to the bathroom so you and patrick could make out in the hallway. this year the seniors let you guys crash their party.

“cassie’s been flirting with you all night art i don’t get why you don’t like her.” you say picking through the chips in the bowl in front of you. “she’s just not my type.” she’s just not you. is what he really wanted to say. “i have to go make a call i’ll be back.” art rushes outside. he’s been acting really distant lately.

you feel hands squeeze at your waist. “come upstairs with me.” patrick whispers in your ear leading you upstairs into a random room.

“you looked so hot tonight.” he pants into your mouth laying you down on the bed then getting onto of you. “thanks” you sigh out as patrick starts kissing your neck. the two of you have never gone farther than kissing and maybe light grinding. “have you noticed how when weird arts been lately.” you had no idea why you brought up art. but it’s be waying on your mind for days. patrick lifts his head up. “i mean he’s been a little quiet these days but if there was something going on he’d tell us.” patrick reassures going back to kissing you.

downstairs art walks back in the kitchen confused to see you gone. he taps some guy on the shoulder asking if he saw you leave. the guy points him upstairs. art walks into something he really wish he hadn’t. he walks in on you and patrick eating each other’s faces. “art!” you’re pushing patrick off of you to chase after him.

“art wait.” he only walks faster before turning around to yell at you. “how long has this been going on? how long have you and patrick my supposed best friends been lying to me. how long have you been lying to luke?” art was angry and sad. “a while.” you admit shamefully. art laughs throwing his head back. “i didn’t plan for this to happen it just did. and we only kept it a secret for you cause i didn’t want to ruin what we three have.” you were crying now, your eye makeup smudging. “oh so you and patrick were lying to protect me? that’s a pathetic excuse really.” art scoffs “you know i liked you first. while patrick was running away with a new girl every week i turned down everyone cause i was waiting for you.” that’s what this was really about. you didn’t know what say. “art i’m so sorry please don’t hate me.” you plead. art sighs completely over this entire night “i don’t hate you. i hate myself for trying to play nice guy all my life when i should have just went for you like patrick did.” “we’re still friends right art? cause i need you. i need the both of you.” you say desperately trying to keep together a dying friendship. “yea just like how i needed you and patrick just now and you two were seconds away from fucking.”

you knew something was going on with him but you were to caught up with your secret relationship with patrick to actually talk to him about it. “why what happened?” you grab arts wrist not ready to let go. art pulls his hand away. “it doesn’t matter. i’m tried i’m just gonna go home. don’t call me tomorrow” your tears are cold against your cheeks “ok. but we’ll still hang out this summer right?” you ask and it’s probably stupid but you really needed know. “can’t my parents are dragging us up to see my grandma she’s not doing well.” “oh. i’m sorry.” art hums “you’ll come back for the fair though.” another stupid question saying anything to keep him here. art sighs looking you in the eye. “i don’t know i’ll try. have a good summer bee.” he called you bee. that stupid nickname he and patrick gave you in second grade during your bumblebee phase.

art didn’t contact either of you all summer. letting yours and patrick’s calls go to voicemail. he also didn’t come back for the fair. the fair was something the three of you did every year. racing each other to the dock on your bikes, making a bet on who’d be the first to throw up after all the fried food and rides. you did break up with luke and officially start dating patrick though.

the next time you and patrick see art was on the first day of school. you three finally had home room together and you waved at him to come sit with you but he pretended not to see.

senior year was gonna suck.

part three

[ruiniel]

HIIIII! i've been reading a bit through your blog and i've liked it a lot, the way you write for alucard is very sweet and i haven't seen much of him x male reader so could i make a request?

in my mind reader helped alucard along with trevor and sypha, but reader is a magical creature that lives within the forest and takes care of alucard from afar after sypha and trevor left so it was only just the two of them even after the events with taka and sumi. this is just for little context.

so, reader is pretty much very in love with alucard and is always to his disposition, but when greta arrives and starts to notice how happy he looks with her, reader starts to question if he's even good enough for alucard so even if he's at alucard's disposition he starts to drift away thinking that alucard may be better off with greta. that until alucard finds him again and formalize ofc 🥰

thanks for reading allat and if you're not interested feel free to ignore it, bye bye!

Thank you for the prompt, here's a little scene. I took a pre-poly relationship approach here...

For each other

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021) | Pairing: Alucard x male reader | Rating: T Count: 2K | Tags: self-deprecation, pining, angst, feels

A late, sunny afternoon. There is no one but the two of them in the large kitchen: Alucard has her pinned against a counter, his gaze dropping from her warm brown eyes to her lips, leaning close enough to taste—

They break apart at the sound of something thudding onto a hard surface. Alucard turns his head, eyes still glazed and heartbeat soaring from their kiss. He blinks owlishly at the sight of you unleashing a hoard of crab apples on the table.

You’d been gone for some time, and now meticulously catch the escaped apples and gather them back into the large wicker basket, all the while doing a great job of not looking at Greta or Alucard, staring at you. “Don’t stop on my account,” you murmur, leaning over to catch an apple about to roll off the table.

“...?” Greta untangles herself from Alucard’s arms, half-turning.

“Found plenty of these in a glade not far from here,” you say as you arrange the fruit. “Fallen from the trees, just there to rot if nobody uses them. Who would have thought?” You turn away, taking an apple and avoiding their eyes as you make to leave.

Greta calls your name. “Wait,” she tries again, taking a step forward, but Alucard’s hold is tight on her wrist.

As the door shuts behind you, Greta moves to go after you, anyway; Alucard holds her fast. “Perhaps…” he says, turning her gently to face him, “Let me speak to him, this time.”

Greta nods. There are many things to speak of indeed, things long overdue. Knowing what happened and all you’ve been through together until this point, it might be best for Alucard to reach you first. Her fingers graze the side of his face. “Bring him back.”

When the door is closed, you stare at the stone walls of the corridor, your gaze traveling up, up, up, to the high ceiling. Your ears are ringing. There comes a need to be anywhere but here. 

Your body takes initiative before your mind does and then you’re pacing through castle halls, away, away, through tall grass, through dust and dirt until you find yourself…

“I’ll never escape this, will I?” you speak, gazing up absently at the remains of the Belmont Manor. You’re not even sure how you got here but take a deep breath, head tipping up to the sky.

So what? This is a good thing, right? Alucard being less miserable is a good thing. Greta having him is a good thing, and they need more Good Things in their lives. You want their happiness, would kill to see either of them pleased and living out their best days, such as they are. It’s all win-win here.

Then why the moping?

They don’t owe you anything. She doesn’t, Alucard doesn’t. Could you be such a supremely conceited dumbass that you actually thought needing them and being there meant you deserved to be a part of…

They’re your friends, your companions, the only people who ever cared. They’re your only friends, comes that voice within. So what, you love them no less.

You open your eyes, frowning at the clouds as though seeing daylight for the first time in your life.

You... love them.

Both.

You walk the broken grounds, through what used to be antechambers, through what used to be a dining room.

Breathe. Breathe, you idiot.

Fact is, one doesn’t always get what one wants — in your case almost never, which is just the bare truth and not you feeling sorry for yourself.

Well, you are, but that doesn’t make it less true.

Again, so what? So what, so what—the two words churn in your mind, an endless storm stealing your breaths without remorse. You drag both hands over your face. You’ve been out of it for too long, until you’ve stumbled upon Alucard, never lingered on what it entails, but now you know, now you see.

So, then, this must be jealousy. Feels great. Not only does God hate you, God placed a price on your head and sent their rabid revenge hounds with devotion and tenderness and lust crushed between their teeth, smashing inadequacy and resentment together in merciless jaws before biting into your face.

Someone calls your name.

You start, the breaths freezing in your chest. Great. You sigh. “You really have to stop creeping up on people like that.” Can you do this now?

“I’m sorry,” Alucard says, then just. Stands there.

Oh, no. You can’t do this now. You kick the dirt. “What is it, Alucard?” If you felt miserable before, now guilt and shame joined in and are having a day of it.

“It’s Alucard, now?” he asks softly, and you shake your head, avoiding his eyes. You’d slipped into calling him ‘Adrian’ not long ago. “Either way, I was hoping you could tell me,” he continues.

“Look, I’m just out here... for some time to think...”

“... which was so urgent a need, you had to rush out without looking back, despite Greta calling your name.”

You discover: when you’re hurting after someone, it only hurts more if they ridicule you. “Your point?” you pinch your brows, trying very hard not to lash out, not to be an asshole, because Alucard... Adrian doesn’t deserve it.

Alucard tilts his head to one side, takes another few steps, then sits down on the ruins—and doesn’t catch fire, a childish part of you thinks. “I know things between us have always been,” he looks you in the eye, “complicated.”

“Understatement of the century,” you stare up at the broken clock tower. “We’re going back to me asking about your point.” Your heart beats faster, and you know he can sense it.

Alucard watches you closely, kindly. His lips part. “You were there for me when I needed you. When I didn’t even know… what I needed.”

“... we did that for each other,” you mutter. “Alucard, really, you can stop this. I’m not a total idiot. You two are together, that’s great. You’ve been through so much, you deserve some peace of mind,” you say, even as Alucard rises and nears you. “And hell knows Greta deserves it, now would you please, please, leave it?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d say you’re begging. You never begged in your life, not even when you were held down at knife point, helpless and with your powers snuffed by magic. But now you’re compelled to because, because…

“I only want to remind you,” Alucard follows, looking at you, “that you once told me I wasn’t alone.”

Your eyes widen for a moment. You look away, unable to keep the misery from your voice. “Why are you going back there?” 

“Why are you running away?” He is close enough that you’re unable to move. “I am also at fault. I’ve been absorbed by my loss that I failed to see you.”

“You still mourn your family, which is a grand pass in my book. Look,” you stare at Alucard’s genuinely curious expression. “I… you need the time. Take it.”

“You care so much about what I need?” His face is honest as he meets your eyes. 

“Does that surprise you?” you ask, crawling beneath your facade, which you get the feeling falls short before Alucard now, anyway.

“I need you.”

You’ve never been the violent sort, unless someone threatened what you cherished. But now you want to punch him, because this… the implication is a joke beyond your wildest dreams, the ones that wake you up in a sweat with your pulse in a rush, where golden eyes turn red, with hot breaths in your ear and you can still taste—“Don’t.”

“I do,” Alucard looks up at the broken tower, then back at you. “And I nearly waited too long.”

He comes closer, a hand on your shoulder. You stare at it, then at Alucard, and you absolutely loathe your body in this moment, for all it wants is closer. “You’re with Greta.”

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Alucard’s eyes narrow. “Yes, you remembered Greta, gods willing.” His face becomes colder, but his eyes are pleading something you can’t understand. “I love her.”

“I’m … glad for you,” you say, falling apart.

Alucard shakes his head. “I love her, and she worried herself sick over you, stood by you for days and nights, tending to you when you were wounded. She can’t bear the thought of you leaving here, wanted to run after you just now and ask what happened because she can’t stand to always see you unhappy. Do you see a pattern?”

“I just… I care about her very much, as you likely have guessed,” you mumble, “all I want is for her to be happy. For… for you to be… .”

“Then don’t run,” Alucard says. “Not from her, not from me.”

“I never run.”

“Then don’t.”

“I just said—nevermind,” you mutter with a smile, spent and needy and you would just…

“Come back inside,” Alucard urges softly, running those long, nervous fingers along your scalp, forehead pressed to yours.

You shudder, would purr like a shameless cat if scraps of your dignity weren’t in the way. “... fine,” you murmur, lips curving upward against your will, fears dispersing like shadows chased by the coming dawn. 

Alucard’s hand cups your head again, but now it’s different; there’s hunger in the touch. You lean forward, helpless. Defeated. Aching.

You’re caught in an embrace, like the Inevitable wrapping itself around you and heaven or hell help you. There’s no escape, for you lack the will to fight this, then wonder why you would—isn’t this what… what you wanted? Didn’t you gut yourself over precisely this, wasting nights away, mind on Alucard and what you share and what you feel, what it would be like, to be close to him… to them? 

“You make everything so difficult for me all the time, you know that?” you say with Alucard… Adrian’s breath on your lips.

“I believe I’m actually making it easy.” He’s smiling, pointedly.

You draw back a little and Alucard follows, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. “Are you sure—”

“Are you really going to question me kissing you now?” he admonishes fondly and noses at your cheek, upper lip curling like it does when he’s annoyed.

“Fair,” you admit defeat, and with that, tilt your head just enough; feel Alucard’s soft lips between your teeth, Alucard’s tongue curling around yours, his taste and you’re grabbing onto the collar of his coat with both hands—more to keep yourself upright, in all honesty—remembering everything: the tingling, slow, hard pressure of Alucard’s mouth, the weakness in your knees and the flare burning low in your body. It’s just as… no, it’s even better than you thought, not as desperate but closer, softer, deeper. You can only liken it to drowning on air, on want, on taste and the sweet-heady scent of skin.

When you tug with abandon at his lip, Alucard brings you to his chest, a foot wedged between yours, hands ordering your hips flush together. All you can think of is how you shouldn’t be enjoying the manhandling as much but you desperately do, and would like more but this is too good a dream to switch for gratification now, too eager to feel him and your unspoken needs weaved together like bonds.

You release the collar of Alucard’s coat, thumbs drifting along his jaw, the determined, hard lines and smooth skin, the way his nose bumps into your cheek as you kiss, the way your own body runs hot and melds with his rising heat.

“Am I dead?” you ask, breathless when you slowly break apart. You stare at Alucard with a self-deprecating smile, the longing bare on your face, panting once, twice, only for Alucard to kiss you again.

You give up and hug him tighter, hands roaming and clutching at him, drifting down to his waist as Alucard twists with you and presses forward until your back meets the nearest wall.

“Wait... weren’t we... going inside?” you pant, looking beyond his shoulder. People are still walking to and fro, though for now you’ve been reasonably sheltered from any curious eyes.

“Right... yes... of course,” Alucard answers in much the same way. He wastes not a moment in dragging you after him, his arm tight around your waist.

[thetriumphantpanda]

LOST IN OUR VICES | ONE

Chapter Summary | A chance encounter with a handsome stranger sets off a chain of events that could all end in disaster. It's hard to say no when it feels so good though.

Pairing | Professor!Marcus Pike x Student F!Reader

Chapter Warnings | Dubious ethical relationship between a professor & student, Marcus tells a lie, mentions of food and alcohol, mentions of academia, academic failure and strained parental relationships, gratuitous descriptions of London because I live here and I love it, some heavy making out and some heavy petting, no use of y/n.

Authors Note | WELL HERE SHE IS. I have no idea how to tell you how much I am loving this so far. Professor Pike has well and truly rotted my brain so y'all have to suffer with me okay? It's gonna be fun, I promise. I would LOVE to know what you all think about this so feel free to scream at me incumbents, reblogs and asks! As always, a huge thank you to @undercoverpena for reading this over and making sure it isn't utter tripe. ILY. And to @saradika for the beautiful divider.

Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs for writing updates.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

He’s seen her there every day he’s visited the past month. Sitting on the bench, looking up at the same sculpture - a woman carved from marble - sketching into a notepad. He stands this time and watches as her finger tucks some hair behind her ear, brushing it out of her face. She looks up and tilts her head a little, eraser end of her pencil sitting between her teeth as she thinks, tracers a portion of the statue before her head is back down, looking at the page as she continues to draw.

She’s beautiful, there’s no denying it, she’s been beautiful every time he’s seen her. There’s something lonely about her too, the way she sits there on her own, artefacts and artworks for company. She’s just like him really, uprooted from a life he was no longer satisfied with, four years of a PhD and now the letters of Dr before his name. Moved to London, a new city, a fresh start as he’d coined it to his family, but he’s been here three years now, and not one thing that he wanted from his move have materialised. He knows the therapy was good for him, he knows that his haste to find someone was probably what was making him scare people off, but he doesn’t much like the other side of the coin either - a modest flat in London to himself, a small group of friends who sit around and drink beer and droll on about their academic passions, but no-one he can really call his own right now.

Dr. M Pike. Professor of Art History. That’s what his doorplate says, one of many in the small corridor at UCL. Three years and he’s still not quite sure how he made it here, or if it’s really what he wants, but it beats whatever he was doing back in D.C. that’s for sure. It had seemed like the best thing to do at the time, but when Lisbon had told him she wasn’t coming, everything about it seemed wrong, soiled somehow, by the life he’d built in his mind being torn up by someone who, looking back, had never really wanted him in the first place.

He thought about talking to her the first day he’d seen her, but then realised he was actually here to prepare for one of his teaching seminars, so squirrelled himself away to another room instead. The second time he’d seen her, she’d looked too engrossed on whatever she was working on, and then every other time, he’s convinced himself she’s here for peace, not to be bothered by some random man. But there’s something about the way she is today that makes the pull harder to resist, so he says fuck it, shoves his hands into his trouser pockets and walks over.

“You come here often?”

It’s an American accent that pulls you from your work. His voice jolts your hand, makes you press your pencil into paper too hard and at the wrong angle. You suck in a deep breath, try not to think about the hours of work he’s just ruined by startling you. You’re about to turn around and complain when he comes into your vision.

He’s tall, broad shoulders covered in a light dress shirt, two buttons undone so you can see a flash of tanned skin and a smattering of hair. It’s tucked into dark jeans, a belt keeping them tight to his trim waist. And then there’s his face - a beard, but only just and friendly brown eyes, a full mouth too. He’s handsome, there’s no way around it.

“Sorry, that was awful,” The mystery man scratches the back of his neck, “I just come here a lot and I think I’ve seen you here every time for the past month.”

You smile at that, that you’re someone he’s been picking out amongst the crowd of tourists who always come here, someone familiar to him, even if he’s not the same to you.

“I’m just working on something.” You shrug, letting your palm slyly cover the sketch you’ve been making.

The man walks in front of you slightly, takes a seat on the vacant spot on the bench and looks up at the woman carved from marble, “She’s beautiful.” He muses.

“She is.” You agree, looking over the curves of her hips, the way the marble has been carved to make it look like her clothes are wet, sticking to her breasts like she’s just climbed out of the Aegean Sea.

“You like sculpture then?”

“I do,” You nod, turning your body a little towards him, “It’s not my first artistic passion, but I’m studying for my PhD at the moment and it’s all about the female form in marble.”

“Brains as well as beauty,” He smirks a little at you, “Sounds interest though, where are you studying?”

“UCL,” You beam, because you’re proud, it wasn’t easy, you’d been rejected for your first choice research project the first time around, encouraged to choose something else from the feedback, but you were there now, and that’s what mattered, “What about you?” You ask, “What do you do that means you have to be here as much as me?”

He shrugs a little, “I teach.”

It’s vague but you don’t press, he owes you nothing, so you let it lie. You turn back to the sculpture in front of you, when your stomach grumbles. You look down at your watch. It’s 2pm and you’ve not eaten anything yet.

“Hungry?”

“Starving.” You reply meekly.

“Want to grab something to eat?” He asks, “I know a great Italian place in Soho if you fancy it?”

You look at him, eyes tightening a little. It’s been so long since anyone has shown you an ounce of interest, and now the beautiful man in a shirt and dress pants wants to take you for lunch, it all seems a bit too good to be true. But, you can hear the voice of your therapist tell you to say yes to more things, take more risks in life because not all of them are going to turn out to be bad, so you flip the front of your notepad over to cover your drawing and reach down to pick up your backpack.

“Lead the way.”

He doesn’t disappoint. Over the course of a glass of wine and a bowl of olives, you coax out his name. It’s Marcus. He’s got a PhD in Art History and moved to London from D.C. three years ago. He lives alone, near Notting Hill, he likes it because he can go searching for antiques on the weekend. He wants a dog, but he spends too much time out of the house to justify one. He likes to read and he can cook, but prefer eating out or ordering in because he’s not mastered the art of cooking for one.

When a waiter sets down your second glass of wine and your food - gnocchi with pesto and bacon for you and carbonara from Marcus, he turns the conversation back to you, sipping wine as he ask you where you live - Willesden Green, so not far from you - who you live with - myself, my dad was so proud I got into my course he pays for my rent, it’s the only way he can show he loves me - what you like to do with your free time - free time? When I have it, I read, or I walk, or I sit and draw sculptures in museums.

You don’t know whether it’s the wine or not, but the dark winter sinks in, outside cloaked in black, lights dimmed inside, and it makes him even more handsome than he was before. He makes you laugh, with his stories of his own PhD stress, how he would walk the streets of D.C. at 3am to get coffee and pancakes on his way back from the library and then collapse into bed and sleep for two hours until his alarm would wake him up and he would go all the way back to the library to do it again.

“If I ever get to that point,” You muse, stabbing a piece of gnocchi onto your fork, “I don’t think I’ll have the will to make it through.”

“You seem far too organised to me to fall into the bad habits I had.” He shrugs, looking at you over his own glass of wine as you take a bite of your food, too busy watching him to really notice the angle of your fork, green sauce smearing on the corner of your mouth as you fight it into your mouth.

Before you have a chance to reach down and grab the napkin from your lap, Marcus is reaching over the table, using the pad of his thumb to wipe the stray sauce away. It’s something that under any other circumstance would make you feel uncomfortable, but all it really makes you want to do is kiss him, especially when he apologises profusely for being so forward.

He pays for dinner, insists on it really, hidden behind the excuse that he knows how hard it is to live whilst studying. He takes you for cocktails at a bar on the end of Old Compton Street - orders himself an old fashioned whilst you opt for an amaretto sour. The bar is dark and busy, the only seats are in a corner, sat so close together your knees are touching and your shoulder is slightly leaned into his side.

“So, you said you got rejected from your first choice course?” He muses, taking a short sip of his drink.

You shrug with a nod, “I wanted to research the impressionist movement,” You start to explain, “I love Monet and Renoir but I think my research application was too broad,” Sipping your own drink you carry on talking, “There’s a great academic at UCL, Professor Pike, I was desperate to have him as my supervisor, but it wasn’t meant to be.”

You turn your head a little, watching as Marcus swallows on nothing, quickly taking another sip of his drink.

“It’s okay,” You hasten to add, “I guess if I’m not writing thousands of words about it, it won’t make me hate what I love most.”

“Smart,” Is what he says with a smirk, “You would have given him a run for his money anyway.”

“Do you know him?” You ask, “I know all of you academic types are familiar with each other.”

He swallows on nothing again, “I’ve heard of him but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

You both order another drink, sit around talking about nothing much at all, slowly moving closer as the bar gets busier, you tell yourself it’s just so you can hear him better, but he smells good, some kind of musky cologne that suits him really well, so you don’t complain about soaking it up.

When it gets late, he offers to take you home, keep you company on the tube. You know it’s not really necessary, you’ve never felt particularly unsafe walking home from the station, but if it means spending more time with him, then you don’t really mind. He lets you take the only free seat on the tube, standing in the aisle just in front of your knees so he can keep talking to you, and when you reach the other side, he walks close to you, puts a hand on your lower back which you can feel through your jacket when a group of people walk past you a little too close. He even insists on walking you to your door.

It’s quiet in the building, like it usually is. It’s only recently been built and you think you’re one of only a few people who are currently living there. You pluck your keys from your coat pocket when you reach your door, leaning your back against it.

“This is me.”

“Nice place.”

“Yeah, although I usually prefer places with more character.”

He’s stood right in front of you, rocking on his heels, that same nervous hand on the back of his neck as this afternoon, “I know this might seem weird, but would you like to go on a date sometime?”

You can help but snort a laugh, shaking your head a little, before you meet his eyes, “This wasn’t a date?” You ask coyly.

He smirks a little, cheeks flushing a little, “Did you want it to be a date?”

“I wouldn’t have let you take me for lunch if I didn’t,” You say, “But there is one thing missing.”

“Oh yeah?” He hums, “What’s that?”

Instead of speaking, you take a step forward, hands gripping the lapels of his jacket as you press up onto your toes and plant your lips on his. It’s clumsy and it’s impulsive, but you’ve wanted to do it all day. You can feel his arms wrapping around your back, dragging your body flush to his as he opens his mouth against yours right as you do the same. He tastes like mint from the gum he’s been chewing and the whisky from his drinks - it’s all you can think about as he walks you back, presses you against the door as his tongue meets with yours.

You’re thankful no-one is around. Your arms move from his jacket to wrap around the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the curls there as you tilt your head to one side, a slight smacking sound from your lips as the disconnect, only to come back together seconds later. He’s good at this, you think, as his hands drop from your back to rest in the pockets on the back of your jeans, palms warm through the material. You can feel him squeeze you there a little, and you’re so close to saying fuck it and inviting him in, because if his lips are this good against yours, you can’t imagine what they’d be like in other places.

Marcus is the one that pulls away from you, resting his forehead gently to yours. You’re both breathless and you’re itching to press your mouth back to his.

“I should go.” He breathes against your mouth, pressing his lips to your in a chaste kiss.

“Yeah,” You agree, “You should.”

He steps back, takes the warmth of his palms with him, but reaches in to his pocket and hands his phone to you, “Put your number in here and I’ll call you.”

So you do, press the eleven digits into his phone along with your name and then kiss him once more before he’s turning on his heel and walking away, leaving you with a dull ache between your thighs that you’re working on relieving within five minutes of getting inside. You’re fucked.

Marcus curses himself as he settles into the seat on the bus. It’s late enough that it’s not too busy, no-one sitting next to him as he leans his head back and runs his hand over his face. He already knows he’s fucked up. The words Professor Pike and rejected from my first choice spinning around in his brain as he watches parts of North London flash past the window on his ride home.

Why hadn’t he stopped it then? He knows the rules, knows that even though he doesn’t teach her, any kind of relationships with students, no matter how mature, are off limits. And how is he supposed to keep the facade up now? It’s only a matter of time before she puts two and two together and figures out who he really is.

You’re sweet and you’re smart and you’re fucking beautiful and the best kisser he thinks he’s ever met. You have so much in common with him that it actually hurts him a little and one stupid choice to keep lying to you and the fucking ethics policy are going to keep him from something he thinks would actually be fucking good for him.

He thinks for a second, pulling out his phone and looking at your contact card that he should probably just delete your number. It’s for the best for everyone. He could avoid the museum for a while, keep his head low on campus, he knows he can avoid you. But with his finger hovering over the delete confirmation, he finds he doesn’t have the strength to do it. Stuffs his phone back in his pocket and tries to will his mind to forget the way you’d gasped into his mouth when his hands had squeezed at the swell of your ass, or the way your lips had been soft against his when he’d kissed you.

Then, led in bed, frustrations sorted by his own hand, he picks up his phone and damns himself to hell with a single text.

How about a walk around the National Gallery and dinner this weekend?

[clarisse0o]

Camp Wiegman-Part 29

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Mastzerlist

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Friday, January 1st, 2:30 AM - Manchester Street.

- "What was I thinking, listening to you?" I grumbled, following them through the freezing cold of the city. "And on top of that, we’re wandering around in skimpy outfits in the middle of Manchester ! If we run into any shady characters, you'll see!"

- "Are you done complaining?" Mapi chuckled. "You're exaggerating with the 'skimpy outfits' bit. We’re just dressed for a party."

- "Are we almost there?" I asked, ignoring her remark.

- "Yes, yes, I can see them from here!"

- "Is it those three over there?"

- "Yeah, she said she’d be with some friends."

I tried to make out the people Mapi was pointing to, but they were still too far away to see clearly. The dizziness from the alcohol wasn’t helping my vision either. Mapi had tried to get me drunk, but I managed to keep it under control by passing off my drinks. I could honestly say I drank in moderation. Well… sort of. It was around two in the morning, and I was walking as straight as I could. She had me downing drinks since midnight, and this time, I couldn’t escape. Then the other wanted to go outside to light some fireworks, so we took the chance to sneak out, thanks to Maya and Ella, who we swore to secrecy in case anything happened. Alessia would have been informed too, but she was busy dancing in the living room. She was probably the most intoxicated of us all, thanks to Mapi's little game. I shivered, wrapping my arms around myself. We were walking in heels through the snow, with only tights covering our legs. If I catch a cold because of this nighttime adventure, they’ll be hearing about it for a long time!

The people we were supposed to meet were at the end of the street. As we got closer, I could start to see them better. Jennifer was easy to spot, I could see, she was just as beautiful as she looked in the photos Alexia had shown me. As for the other girls, they had their backs to us, so it was hard to tell what they looked like. They were laughing together, seemingly oblivious to us. I felt uneasy at the thought of meeting new people. I wasn’t as open to it as I used to be. Alexia had reassured me, though, saying I had nothing to worry about. She also informed us at the last minute that she’d be with two friends, probably knowing I would’ve refused to come if I’d known earlier. She would have been right.

Without warning, she started running towards them halfway to catch up faster. Her excitement must have taken over since she told me they hadn’t seen each other in a month. It must be hard for her to maintain this kind of relationship. I would find it tough to be away from the person I love for so long. Their relationship must be built on a lot of trust. Proof of that: she’s with two girls, and she doesn’t care. We finally reached them. Alexia was already in her girlfriend’s arms, wishing her a happy New Year while kissing her. As for us, we stayed back from these new people. At least, that’s what I thought until I met the gaze of one of the girls who had noticed us.

- "Oh no, I can’t believe it," she laughed.

I froze, my lips slightly parted. My first instinct was to immediately look at the second girl, who turned around at her friend’s comment. What the hell? What are they doing here?! I quickly remembered that Jenni used to be an instructor at Camp Wiegman. From their surprise, I could tell they weren’t aware of this awkward plan either. Mapi nudged me lightly to snap me out of my shock.

- "Do you know them?" she whispered to me.

I still couldn’t find my voice. It wasn’t until the girls reacted faster than me that I really pulled myself together.

- "You must be Mapi?"

- "Uh, yes?" she answered hesitantly, looking at me strangely. "Are we supposed to know each other too?"

Alexia burst out laughing at our awkwardness. That girl was going to pay for organizing something like this! And while I’m drunk too!

- "So, are you going to introduce us?" my best friend huffed.

- "Mapi... This is Bronze and Engen, instructors from my school."

She didn’t react immediately, probably taking a moment to process who they were. Her confused expression suddenly turned into a big smile.

- "Nooo way! You’re kidding, right?"

The awkwardness returned. If there was one thing I didn’t expect, it was meeting my boss and my best friend at the same time. Mapi didn’t hesitate to scrutinize them closely now that she knew who they were. She was probably trying to figure out which one was Lucy. Still, she didn’t say anything and instead wished them a happy New Year. I realized that with everything going on, I hadn’t had the chance to do so either. So I also went around, starting with Jenni. This girl was just as beautiful up close as from a distance. I was almost jealous Alexia of for being with someone like her. I moved on to Engen, then finally reached Lucy. For her, I allowed myself a reunion hug. I had missed her a lot. She accepted my embrace, wishing me a happy and better New Year, which I really hoped for.

- "I’m starting to understand why you asked me not to mention your friends," Jenni commented. "Can someone explain what’s going on?"

- "This is Ona," Engen introduced me, pointing in my direction.

- "Ooooh!" she responded. "So, this is your little protégé?" she asked Lucy.

- "Oh, please, don’t start," she rolled her eyes.

That remark left me puzzled. It was as if they’d already talked about me tonight. The thought that she might have talked about me to her friends made me smile. Then again, I wasn’t getting my hopes up. Knowing her, she probably mentioned me with a lot of professionalism. I didn’t have time to figure anything else out because Engen started speaking again.

- "And you must be Mapi, her fearless best friend?"

- "Fearless?" Mapi laughed. "Is that what you call me around here?" she asked, turning to me.

- "Actually, I’m the one who calls you that," Lucy cut in. "It seems you have a tendency to drag Ona into parties."

I stepped back, suddenly remembering the state I was in. Oh God, now is not the time for her to notice. She knows me too well for that to slip by. It would be a shame to start the new year on a bad note.

- "Yeah, well, Ona’s old enough to go out when she wants."

- "That doesn’t change the fact that you influence her."

- "Yeah, well—"

- "Whoa, girls," I laughed. "Let’s avoid a showdown over me during your first meeting, shall we?"

- "She started it," Mapi pouted.

Lucy rolled her eyes in response and turned to Engen, who she started chatting with.

- "By the way, you have good taste," Mapi murmured to me, so only I could hear, with a teasing look. "You described her perfectly."

I would never understand how this girl could change her attitude in two seconds. But I blushed at her comment, not helping my case at all.

- "Stop, not here," I replied quietly.

- "Oh, don’t be shy," she said, letting her finger trail down my cheek. "I’ll leave her to you for sure. She doesn’t seem to like me much anyway."

- "I’m not interested in her. How many times do I have to tell you?"

- "Who are you talking about?"

We looked up to see the girls had finished their conversation. I realized we weren’t as discreet as we’d thought.

- "No one," I answered before Mapi could reply. "So, did you know about them?" I asked, pointing to the couple behind them to change the subject.

The girls turned to look at them. This brief moment gave me a chance to observe them, and I noticed they were both wearing dresses too. It was even stranger than seeing Lucy in jeans last time.

- "Jenni’s a friend of ours, so yeah, obviously."

- "I didn’t know you were," Lucy added to Engen’s response.

- "I wasn’t going to tell you and risk getting Alexia in trouble."

- "She’s not wrong," her friend laughed. "That’s not something you tell your instructor, you know," she said, nudging her.

- "What do you know? We tell each other a lot!"

- "Sure," I scoffed. "You don’t tell me anything! It took me forever just to get your name."

- "Hey!" she protested. "I’ve told you things too!"

- "Oh, right. Now that you mention it, I did know about your relationship status and orientation before your name. I forgot about that," I teased.

I ignored Engen and Mapi’s reactions, focusing only on my boss, who suddenly looked at me strangely. The alcohol had given me the courage to respond with such tact. I chuckled, realizing my mistake, which made Lucy narrow her eyes. If I had been discreet up until now, I think I’d just blown it. I bit my lip to stifle my laughter, but it was no use.

- " Ona..." she began in a threatening tone. "Are you drunk?"

- "What, me?" I said innocently. "Nooo. Of course not," I giggled nervously. "What makes you say that?"

I was in deep trouble. I took a step back as she stepped forward. I’ve always said I was a terrible liar. It’s not for nothing that I turned off my phone before we left. I didn’t want her to find out about the party through messages or photos. I wanted to avoid facing her when I got back. Now I had to deal with it face-to-face right now.

- " Ona..." she warned, stepping closer as I backed away. "Don’t you dare make me run in heels!"

As soon as she said that, I turned and fled. I grabbed onto Mapi in my haste, but managed to break free. My smile widened, realizing just how much I had missed this kind of situation. I loved being the center of her attention, even if it would have consequences. That was the least of my worries at the moment. I regretted wearing heels too, which prevented me from running faster. I struggled to stay upright, and it didn’t take long for it to show a few meters ahead. My ankle twisted involuntarily, but I was caught by arms that prevented a ridiculous fall. I blushed at the unexpected closeness with Lucy, who sighed into my ear, as if relieved that we’d avoided the worst. I was still unsteady, but she continued to hold me firmly until I was standing on my own. I bit my lip now that she had caught me.

- "I’m sorry," I giggled. "I swear, I tried to be reasonable! It’s the girls who insisted, and the wine was really good. Did you know I love white wine? I don’t think I even knew that myself."

Lucy blinked at my rambling. I laughed uncontrollably, realizing how happy the alcohol had made me. Or maybe it was because Lucy was in front of me? I couldn’t say. Lucy analyzed me carefully, making me giggle again. I knew I was in trouble, but I couldn’t help it. The girls had joined us by then. They were worried at first, but eventually smiled when they saw how happy I was.

"Relax a bit, Luce. Look at her, she didn’t do anything wrong, and it’s the first of January. You’ve had a few drinks too. »

- "Ah!" I unintentionally provoked her. "You dare forbid me something you don’t even follow yourself?"

- "It’s different," she narrowed her eyes. "And at least I can still stand in my heels!"

She nudged my shoulder slightly to prove her point. I wished I could be stronger and stand straight, but my body didn’t seem to want to cooperate and started to wobble.

-« That doesn’t count! I can barely walk in heels when I’m sober! »

- "I confirm, snorted Mapi.

- I should throw you into the snow to sober you up.

- You wouldn’t dare, I chuckled.

I squeal when my feet no longer touch the ground. Shit, shit, shit! I immediately start struggling, squirming on her shoulders and hitting her back. It’s useless given how easily she holds me by my legs and waist.

- Hey! Put me down!

- No. Let’s see who’s too scared! That’ll teach you to provoke me and not listen to what I say.

I gasp, feeling the cold on my bare legs when she drops me onto a pile of snow by the roadside. She tries to get up afterward, but I pull her down so she falls on top of me. She retaliates instantly, throwing handfuls of snow at me, most of which end up in my mouth. I cough to spit it all out.

- Stop, stop, stop. Please stop! Okay, I get it, I get it! I’m wide awake now!

I stop wriggling when I realize the snow is seeping through my jacket. Lucy seems to pity my pleas because she stops immediately. I grin mischievously at her naivety, grabbing some snow to fight back. My reflexes must not be my own anymore because she grabs my wrist before I can throw it.

- Don’t even try.

Her threatening voice makes me shiver. I immediately drop the snow, which was starting to burn my hand, admitting defeat. I wasn’t trying to make her angrier; besides, her punishment was well-deserved. It’s also very effective, as clear thoughts start to return. I blush in embarrassment, already regretting my actions. Lucy notices my state and sighs in relief as she releases my wrist.

- I’m cold.

My words are accompanied by shivering, making Lucy smile. She helps me up after her, making sure I stay on my feet by keeping her hands on my shoulders. She looks at me for a moment, rubbing her hands on my arms.

- I think it’s slipping under my dress…

- Take off your jacket then.

- No, it’s cold.

I groan in a plaintive tone. She doesn’t seem inclined to change her mind. She unzips my jacket herself. A shiver of cold runs through me immediately. I try to ignore Mapi and Engen’s laughter, who are now at a distance from us. I feel my cheeks heat up as she takes off my jacket, fully revealing my dress. Mapi chose one of the sexiest ones in my wardrobe. Maybe I should have thought about a sweater now that I see myself in this outfit.

- Turn around. We need to act quickly.

I sigh, twisting around in small steps to give her my back, then cross my arms to preserve what little warmth I have left. The only thing motivating me to let her do it is that the last time I was in this situation, I caught the flu. I tense up when I feel her reach for the zipper of my dress.

- We don’t want you getting sick again, huh? she murmurs calmly. I doubt you’d want to go back to eating soup.

- It’s not funny, I grumble.

- I know you secretly like it.

- No, I grimace. I’ve had enough.

- It’s not that bad.

- No, I sigh. But—

- You’ve had enough, she finishes for me, mocking me. There, I’m done.

I realize she only distracted me while she zipped up my dress. I glance over my shoulder to see her holding a now damp tissue in her hand, then I look up into her eyes. She smiles gently at me as she lifts my jacket, which she had kept between her legs. Without a word, I slip my arms into one sleeve after another.

- Thank you, I murmur.

I quickly close my jacket and cross my arms again. I slowly turn back toward her. She rubs her hands on my arms again to help me warm up. Now that the buzz from the alcohol has passed, I feel tired. The girls approach us with big smiles. I hope they didn’t see any of my nudity. Lucy was behind me, so she must have made sure they didn’t see anything.

- Starting off the New Year well, huh? I chuckle.

- Hmm, she simply replies with a smirk.

- You were nice. I expected worse revenge, I admit, making her laugh.

- Take it as a New Year’s gift. You just wasted my only generous punishment of the year.

- I’ll make sure to remember that, I mumble, making her smile broadly.

I look at our friends who are whispering amongst themselves. It’s strange to see them so friendly so quickly. The whispering stops when they notice us. I raise my eyebrows, silently asking Mapi what’s going on. She just shrugs with a sly smile.

- Girls, we need to get back, says Alexia, who is desperately clinging to Jenni. Is Alba driving you crazy with phone calls too, Ona?

I pull out my phone to check. I groan when I see she’s right. I knew this plan was a bad idea. We snuck off without telling her. I look at the girls, who clearly don’t seem eager to leave. I’m surprised that I don’t want to either.

- Yeah, but there’s no way I’m walking in this state. My feet are freezing, and I’m not getting blisters over this, I say as my only excuse.

- You and your heels, Mapi laughs.

- Stop making fun of me! You’ll soon find out where I’ll stick them if you keep acting like this!

She bursts out laughing, knowing full well I’m referring to her behavior all evening. She hasn’t done anything to me directly, but she’s still driven Alessia to drink herself into a stupor.

- Admit it, my idea was brilliant! she snickers. Damn, she made a face when I put my hand on your thigh under the table!

- What is she talking about? Lucy asks me.

- She wanted to prove to me that Alessia has a crush on me, so she spent the whole evening cozying up to me.

- It was funny, admit it, she grins even more. I bet she’s passed out on the couch right now, given the state she was in when we left.

- Are you proud of yourself? I growl. The poor girl is going to get ideas about us now!

- So what? You told me you’re not interested in her.

- That’s no reason to play with her feelings.

- Hey, don’t go talking about feelings. She doesn’t even know you, she snorts. Maybe attraction, but not feelings!

- What do you know? She’s a nice girl!

- Hello, girls. Who cares? We have another problem right now! says Alexia, waving her phone around.

- Why don’t you all come up to the apartment for a bit? Jenni suggests.

The idea was appealing, but we hesitated because of Alba��s harassment. None of us really wanted to return to our party, especially knowing what awaited us. So we all agreed to stay. I took it upon myself to text Alba to let him know we were fine and would be back soon. We’ll probably get an earful when we return, but whatever.

- Will you carry me? I asked Lucy.

- What? she frowns. Carry you? Are you serious?

- Please! My feet hurt! You owe me this.

She sighs, but to my surprise, she agrees to let me climb onto her back. She crouches down so I can wrap my arms around her neck. I make sure my dress is in place before she starts walking, holding my thighs firmly to support my weight. Our friends lead the way to the elevator that takes us to the fifth floor. Jenni opens one of the doors on the floor, and we enter the apartment. We’re immediately greeted by a medium-sized living room. A table stands in the middle of the room with several used plates, a sign that they’re not the only ones celebrating here. I don’t have time to see more before Lucy sets me down next to Mapi on the couch.

- Want something to drink? Jenni asks.

- Vodka orange for Ona, snickers Mapi.

- Stop, I grumble. You’ve made me drink enough tonight. I had to get rid of half the glasses you served me.

- Is that why Alessia is passed out on the couch?

This girl exasperates me so much that I stop responding. It seems she won’t drop the issue with this poor girl. Despite my asking, she kept at it again and again.

- Sorry, she finally says when she sees I’m ignoring her. Can I have a coffee, please? Mapi asks.

- No problem, Jenni smiles. Ona, Ingrid?

- Coffee for me too, please, Ingrid replies before Jenni turns her eyes to me.

- Nothing, thank you.

- Are you sure?

- Yes. I don’t like coffee, and I don’t want anything else.

- You don’t like coffee? Lucy asks me.

I shake my head in response to Lucy, who is already in the kitchen with Alexia to prepare the drinks. Jenni joins them to help. My roommate is the first to return with the two coffees for the girls. I groan when Mapi starts up again, sliding her hand discreetly onto my thigh. I smack it away and scoot as close to the edge as I can on the other end of the large couch.

- That’s enough. You’ve had your fun tonight.

-Oh, come on! Stop ignoring me! Just wait until we’re in bed tonight if you think this is “handsy.” »Voici la traduction en anglais :

"Keep it up, and I'll make you sleep on the floor or with Alexia."

"No way," Jenni retorts from the kitchen. "Not if she has wandering hands," she adds, making us laugh.

I don't know how many glasses my best friend has had, but it's way too many if she's acting like this. I thought she had drunk less than me. Lucy returns to us, handing me a cup. I frown, especially since she has another one in her other hand.

"I said I didn't want anything."

"It's hot chocolate. You need to warm up."

In the end, I smile at the thought that hot chocolate would be nice and thank her. She sits down between Mapi and me, much to my delight. At least she'll leave me alone now. I take the liberty of looking into her cup and grimace when I recognize coffee. She brings it closer to my nose, making me pull back.

"Do you want to taste it?"

"No, thanks."

"I'm sure you've never tried it."

"No, but I don't want to. It's not something that appeals to me."

"Too bad for you," she says, bringing the cup to her lips.

I smile and bring mine to my lips as well. It's so good. It's just what I needed after this hectic evening. It soothes me and makes me even more tired at the same time. I don't even know what time it is. With this thought, I let my head fall tiredly onto her shoulder.

"Hey, don't cheat on me!"

"Shut up, Maps, we're not married."

"Not yet."

"You're such a pain, you know that?" I ask, lifting my head to look at her.

"We're bonded, remember?" she says, tugging on her necklace.

"Bonded, my ass!"

"Hey, I remind you that I'm in the middle here in case you didn't notice!"

Lucy pushes us, pointing out that we had gotten closer during our interaction. Just after that, she surprises me by taking my pendant in her hands to look at it.

"Is that your Christmas present?" she asks me.

"She's afraid of losing her best friend status," I scoff.

"Isn't that the kind of gift you give when you're, like, twelve?" she asks Mapi, letting go of my necklace.

I burst out laughing at her disappointed face. Lucy sure knows how to get to her tonight. I didn't dare say it, but I had exactly the same thought when I opened the box.

"No!" Mapi replies, completely vexed. "We're far from each other, so it was obvious I had to give her something that reminded her of me."

"Hmm, sure," Lucy responds indifferently.

I smile and rest my head on Lucy again. At least I'll have some peace now that Mapi is sulking. I observe the couple on the other couch across from us. I envy their hugs and kisses at the moment. I miss those affectionate moments, and seeing them in their own little world doesn't leave me indifferent. I had been avoiding that kind of relationship since Feli. I regret that an asshole like her made me forget the good things.

"Are you okay?" Lucy asks me.

"Hmm... tired."

"Did you manage to get some rest?"

"Yes, well... not so much in the last few days, but I'm fine."

"Why?"

"I've been waking up in the middle of the night for the past few days, but it's okay."

"What? Why didn't you wake me up then?" Mapi suddenly wakes up at this response.

"I manage to fall back asleep. I didn't see the point."

"Hmm... don't hesitate, okay?"

"I know."

"Did you two sleep together the whole vacation?" Lucy asks us.

"Correction, she crashed at my place the whole vacation."

"You're the one who said you didn't mind!" Mapi retorts.

"Do you really think I was going to let you spend Christmas alone?"

"No, but kicking me out because I'm annoying, yes!"

"You know that's not the case," I roll my eyes before sitting up. "Except when you act like tonight. Then you are annoying."

"Oh, come on! I just wanted to have fun. Admit it was funny!"

"You're not the one who has to deal with the consequences."

"Everyone has their own mess, right?"

I groan in exasperation against Lucy. That was the last straw. I would never have the last word with her anyway if I kept responding. Seeing that I'm not reacting anymore, she tries to move her hand towards me, but Lucy intercepts it, much to my delight.

"Are you done now?" Lucy scolds her.

"Mph, fine, I'll stop," she says, pouting.

"We should head back, right?" Ale chimes in. "Albal is going to lose it otherwise, and I don't want the others to get caught in the crossfire..."

"We'll walk you back with Ingrid," Lucy announces. "She won't be able to say much with us."

"No, it's okay. Don't bother. We can handle it," Alexia replies.

"We're walking you back," Ingrid insists this time. "She won't dare say anything if she knows you're with us We'll just say we ran into you and helped you find your way back."

"Come on, it's decided," Lucy concludes, slapping my thigh. "Up you go."

I groan at this gesture. I finish my cup before following the girls' lead. I thank Lucy when she takes our cups to put them in the kitchen. We then put on our jackets while Alexia properly says goodbye to her girlfriend. She doesn't come with us since their group of friends is expected to return soon from their nighttime walk. Besides, Alexia prefers to avoid Alba seeing her for the moment. We say goodbye to Jenni before leaving the apartment with our two instructors. I asked Lucy to carry me again, but this time she didn't give in.

"By the way, was that your apartment?" I asked her.

"If it were mine, I'd have the keys, don't you think?"

"So it was Jenni's then?"

"Yep," Ale responds. "cool, right?"

"Are you talking about the apartment or her?" Mapi retorts. "Because you sure spent a lot of time revisiting her mouth tonight."

I give her a light smack on the head, even though she's right. She tries to smack me back, but Lucy saves me again by telling us to stop our childish behavior once and for all. I smile, noticing that she had the desired influence on Mapi. The warmth I had just regained evaporates once we're outside. I'm not usually sensitive to the cold, but since I've been here, it's been a different story. The return is quick with Mapi and Ale chatting nonstop, getting along perfectly well. As soon as we arrive in front of Leah and Alessia’s house, Alba bursts out. She must have been spying behind a window to have noticed us so quickly. She was about to start yelling until she saw the people who had taken the trouble to walk us back. The poor girl starts stuttering, losing all her credibility. Our other friends soon follow her out. Some of them are in pretty bad shape, like Patri, who tries to hug Lucy while wishing her a Happy New Year. She immediately turns her down but still wishes her a Happy New Year.

"But... what the... what the hell is going on? Where were you all this time? » Alba exclaims.

"Calm down, will you?" Engen responds. "We're the ones who delayed them when we ran into them. Got a problem with that?"

"You were together all this time?"

"We ran into them on the way," Lucy repeats. "We just came to diffuse the situation, so try to leave them alone. We'll know if you don't."

Alba reluctantly nods. The two instructors still wish everyone a Happy New Year and remind us to be ready for the start of school. Most of my friends go back inside now that the most interesting part is over. They managed to calm Alba down, much to everyone's surprise. We say goodbye before going inside. I was about to follow the girls, but Lucy stops me.

"Yes?"

"You know you can reach out to me if you have a problem, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Then do it, even if it's in the middle of the night. Okay?"

"Hmm..." I reply, averting my eyes.

"Look at me."

I sigh, meeting her green eyes. It seems my nighttime awakenings didn't fall on deaf ears.

"We're friends, right?"

"Really?" I ask in surprise. "You've always said otherwise."

"You know our relationship has always gone beyond instructor-student," she chuckles, running a hand through her hair. "You can contact me whenever you want."

"You too," I let slip, which makes her smile.

"Go inside and get some sleep. You need rest. I can see your dark circles from here. I want you in good shape for Sunday night, okay? By the way, how are you coming?"

"No idea, I'll figure it out."

"Hmm. We'll talk about it again then. Go on now, they're waiting for you."

I turn around to see that Mapi and Alexia are indeed waiting for me at the door, along with Alessia. I give Lucy one last hug, which she doesn't refuse. She orders me once again to go to bed immediately, which I nod to, though I'm not sure if I will. I also say goodbye to Ingrid before joining the girls. They immediately suggest we go upstairs to avoid Alba's wrath now that we're alone. This suits me given my supervisor's last order and the fatigue that hasn't escaped her notice. I hope this situation will be just a passing phase; otherwise, I'll have something to worry about in the future

———————————————————————

@okaybronze everything for your happiness

[bishopsbeloved]

the art of falling in love (part four)

natasha romanoff x fem reader

best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)

part one | part two | part three | part four (4k words) | part five | epilogue

read this fic on ao3!

Natalia Romanova has lived her whole life in maybes.

When she was five years old and first banished to an orphanage in a far vast snowy corner of Russia, she thought to herself, okay. Maybe this will be the place that I find my forever family. Surely no place can be worse than that which I have come from. But the other girls she lived with were taller and crueler, and almost a year passed before a certain scraggly blonde rascal stumbled into sharing a room with her. Without hesitation she began causing havoc for every single resident. Natalia liked her immediately. It was not long before the two would share a bed at night and call one another sister.

Maybe I was right, Natalia would think to herself sleepily, as she and tiny Yelena huddled together beneath a duvet to survive the cold winter nights. Maybe this is my forever family.

It only took one day for that to fall apart for her, though. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone might adopt Yelena without her too, or vice versa. And when that happened, and Yelena was torn away, she was at a loss.

“Не волнуйся,” Yelena reassured her as she sped around their tiny bedroom, gathering her many trinkets and treasures into a bag. “It’s okay. My mama and papa, they are very lovely, they promise they will come back for you. We will be a family together, in America. A new start. Together.” She held out a pinky earnestly.

“Together,” Natalia repeated, sealing the deal.

But two years after Yelena’s departure, she began to wonder if maybe her sister had been wrong.

She still can’t remember much of the day that they finally, finally came back for her. She was eight, and you and Yelena were both seven. Of course, she didn’t know you even existed at first — not until the long journey back, gazing down at the motherland below them as they left it behind, when Yelena babbled endlessly about her new best friend she’d made in Ohio. She doesn’t remember much of that, either — the whole day felt too perfect to be real. It’s all a blur. But still to this day, proudly framed by Alexi and hung above the fireplace, are the photos he took the day she came home.

Only a week into her life in Ohio did she ask her mother if she could change her name. Natalia Romanova was too difficult for Americans to pronounce, and it didn’t feel American. It felt as though it were just another of countless things that screamed I don’t belong. Maybe it would help her feel more acclimated to her new home. And when she worded it like that, who was Melina to deny her? So Natalia Romanova became Natasha Romanoff. You barely even batted an eyelid when the news reached you, and she’d often catch herself smiling when you went out of your way to use her full name in any situation you could.

Although it feels as though she’s loved you forever, it’s true that she was wary of you at first. That fateful moment she first met you, you came tearing into her new home to spend time with her sister and she was scared you’d take her away — but you didn’t. You shared her. And as time went on you began to share parts of yourself with Nat, too.

She’ll remember the day you won her over until her dying breath. December 3 — almost six months since she first moved to Ohio, and her first birthday there. You’d stayed over the night before, as you often did even then, and in the morning you approached her with wide adoring eyes and something clasped carefully in your hands.

“Natasha,” you began, with a slight tremor in your voice, “um, it is your birthday, obviously,” you glanced over at the gaudy banners Alexi had strung proudly around the house in declaration of this fact, “and, uhm, I know we haven’t known each other super long, or anything, but, yeah,” you finished lamely, and held out your hands to her, opening them up. “I found this super cool rock. Alexi helped me clean it. It’s pink.”

It was super cool, Natasha decided. Pink had become her favourite colour as of late — ever since she’d learnt that in America it’s for girls. She looked from the sparkly rock to your earnest, hopeful face and back again, and decided then and there that she loved you. (And maybe you even loved her back.)

The nature of said love did not make itself known to her for a good few years; even before it did, she made her best efforts to dismiss it, though. She very quickly learnt just how American girls were supposed to be — which did not include bright blue hair, or a desire to kiss other girls. Within just a few days of starting public school Natasha had bleached the dye from her hair, quashed down any potential interest in Daphne from Scooby Doo, and at night would carefully practise the American way of pronouncing words in the mirror — without her gentle Russian tinge. She tacked up posters of male pop stars in her room, and began to strategically pick which boys in her class she’d be crushing on next. Maybe, just maybe, if she kept all of this up then she’d be able to fit into her surroundings the way she was somehow never able to in the orphanage.

And for the most part, she did. She found herself becoming one of the most popular girls in class. She’d discovered that actually she was very good at fitting in, as long as she paid enough attention to everyone else. And she felt good about herself — as long as she didn’t pay attention to you and Yelena, who were entirely unbothered by the social norms she adhered so much to, and seemed a whole lot better off for it. It was entirely uncool to be so close with your sister. Her annoying little sister, and her quiet lovely best friend. Yes, as long as she avoided the two of you wherever she could, she’d be fine.

That’s how the years passed, for a long time. Natasha eventually outgrew her desire to distance herself from Yelena, and she returned to the protective tendencies she had harboured for the blonde when they were so young and alone, but what she didn’t outgrow was her need to fit in. That followed her way into high school. By sophomore year she was cheer captain and everyone in school knew her name. (She wasn’t mean, though, she always made sure of that. And she made it known that if anyone were to mess with Yelena — or you, by extension, as by this point people had started referring to you as the twins — there would be consequences.) She had friends, she had boyfriends, she had invites to parties. And as long as Natasha pretended she didn’t have a massive interest in you or a mental list of your likes and dislikes, she would be fine. Probably.

When she was sixteen she realised with startling clarity that the massive interest she acted as though she didn’t have in you was love. She and two of her good friends, Sharon and Maria, were animatedly discussing whether Sharon really loved her boyfriend or not. And the way love was described, romantic love, was identical to what she felt for you (and what any idiot could tell you felt for her, as much as everyone seemed to have agreed to pretend that you didn’t). An inexplicable attraction drawing her to you, an interest in anything you were interested in (see that time she was ten and stayed up all night researching your favourite cartoon just so she could discuss it with you over breakfast the next morning), a desire to just be with you forever. That was love. She loved you.

Oh, shit.

“You’re awful quiet, Nat,” Maria commented. Natasha cleared her throat and took a sip of juice. “Anything on your mind?”

“Just that Sharon needs to dump her shitbag of a boyfriend,” she replied shortly. Maria clapped her hands together in triumph, while Sharon let out a huff of annoyance.

“That’s what I keep saying,” Maria told her proudly, as Sharon spluttered in protest. The discussion resumed and the matter was forgotten. Natasha shoved her discovery to the back of her mind, hoping and praying she could un-discover it. Maybe if she did, things would stay okay.

Try as she might, she couldn’t, but she has tried; more determined than ever to be the perfect American girl. Over dinners she pretends to be annoyed at the teasing, saying that her accent’s gone, she’s no Russian, the American agenda has got her, that she’s almost as American as you.

“Our token Yankees,” Alexi often says merrily, to this day, clapping both you and her on the back with force that makes you wince and her giggle. She’ll whine and wrinkle her nose at him (while you just sit and blush), but secretly revel in the praise that her efforts have been so fruitful.

Barely any time into this school year, her senior year, she realised that she hadn’t had a boyfriend for a suspiciously long time.

“You and James would be cute,” offered Sharon, pointing with her fork at where her good friend and fellow Slav sat across the cafeteria, laughing about something.

“Yes,” came Natasha’s thoughtful reply, “we would, wouldn’t we?”

Every single aspect of her life was coldly calculated, unfeeling, sterile. Natasha Romanoff knew what she wanted and she would obtain it. Her pursuit of Bucky Barnes was no different. He was politely reciprocal at first, and the two entered what Nat’s friends called a situationship over the coming months. It wasn’t until a Stark house party that he turned her down.

“Natasha,” he said gently, and the word was so loud despite the music that blared only a few rooms away. He only had to say that and she knew. She sighed, and sat down on the bed in defeat, only to look up in surprise at his next words.

“I don’t… I like Steve.”

Not even Natasha could understand why she started crying. But Buck was so kind, so patient, and he held her until her tears dried. When she could speak evenly again she opened her mouth and everything came flooding out. The way she felt for you and her deep, innate fear of being different.

Bucky was quiet for a few moments in contemplation. Then he said, “I’m scared, too. Me and Steve are like you and Y/N, we known each other all our lives, and it’s like, what if whatever I do or say or feel ruins that? But you gotta… it’s…” He scratched at the back of his head. “You gotta trust it’ll work out. If you love each other proper, then even if she don’t like you back, you’ll still have her. In your life. It’ll be okay, you know. You just gotta have faith.”

Of course, Natasha knew without a shadow of a doubt how hopelessly head over heels you were for her. Rejection wasn’t what she feared. But she wasn’t sure how to word that to Bucky without sounding entirely conceited, so she just nodded. After that night, though, the two were a whole lot closer, and in no time at all they established a kind of beard situation — they’d act ambiguously involved in public so that in private they could affiliate with the ones their hearts truly desired. It wasn’t as though there weren’t queer people within their school, because of course there were, but both feared for the loss of their social standing so intensely that they saw no other option.

It was Bucky who pushed Nat to kiss you at the New Year’s party.

“If it goes wrong, come find me and we’ll drink,” he shouted over the blaring music. Both of them knew it wouldn’t go wrong, though.

But she drank anyway — for luck, she told herself, downing an impressive amount in one. She was Russian, even when she pretended she was not. A perk of that was being able to handle her liquor.

The New Year’s kiss famously went swimmingly, and Nat felt so giddy the next morning that she marvelled she hadn’t done this sooner. The two of you began to sneak around, which pleased her greatly, but she felt the words you didn’t say during the silence that would sometimes descend on the two of you. Your slight twitchiness, the way you would work yourself up to say something only to dismiss it at the last second. You didn’t want to ask what are we? for fear of the probable answer — and Natasha didn’t have an answer for you, anyway. She liked the way things were now; she had a pretty girl wrapped around her finger who she could sneak around with in private, and she could simultaneously maintain the social status she’d always had in public. She was certain that if you were ever to make her pick between the two she would spiral. Eventually you seemed to take the hint, and the hopeful silences stopped.

It never really occurred to her that she wasn’t treating you well until quite a few months into your relationship — around June, after Stark’s spring break party, once Yelena had started teasing you about a mystery girl. Every time it was mentioned in front of her she would tense, but you handled it with surprising and admirable nonchalance, and her sister seemed to have no suspicion it was her that was spoken of.

Natasha came back late one night from a hangout with friends. She’d forgotten her key and, assuming everyone was asleep, decided to let herself in through the garage rather than disturb anyone. But you and Yelena were still up and enjoying a quiet night in, as the two of you often did, huddled together under blankets on the sofa in a way that would make Natasha reminisce on the way she and Yelena used to do that in the orphanage — except they had done that to survive the bitter cold, whilst the two of you did so merely to enjoy reality TV reruns. It warmed Natasha to see her baby sister happy, at least.

The noise of one Kardashian fighting another (Natasha always got them mixed up) drowned out her quiet arrival, and the two of you were mid-conversation. She made for the stairs, not really wanting nor caring to intrude, but froze as she tuned into Yelena’s next words.

“You never really mention your mystery girl anymore, anyway,” the blonde was saying. “Did something happen? I can hurt someone.”

Natasha craned her neck to catch your next words.

“Nothing happened,” you said quietly. Defeatedly. “I just… I don’t know. I don’t think she likes me as much as I like her.”

“Ah, конечно нет, impossible,” drawled Yelena. “You are adorable, утенок. Everyone likes you.”

You murmured something unintelligible, and Yelena scoffed, but Natasha didn’t need to hear any more. She crawled up the stairs as if the world were about to slip away from beneath her feet. Suddenly everything around her was so overwhelmingly real, and she realised with sickening clarity that you were real, too. She spent the rest of that night lying in her bed, unsleeping, unmoving, counting the paint strokes on the ceiling and wondering if she could’ve gone her whole life without knowing that she’s a bad person. Maybe she has. 

That was probably the beginning of the end. When she looked you the next morning it was as though she was seeing you for the first time — you were quiet, you were pale, there were dark circles under your eyes. You were smaller somehow, as though something had defeated you completely. And Nat knew in that moment that she was too much of a coward to give herself to you, so the kindest thing she could do was let you go. If she was lucky then maybe, just maybe, she wouldn’t lose you completely if she set you free now.

Right now it’s prom night. Seeing you dancing with Sam was one of the most gut-wrenching sights she’s ever endured, but he at least seems to make you happier than she ever did. It didn’t make her very happy to look at, though, so she convinced Buck to drop her home on his way back to Steve’s. (Prom was their first official date and, as Buck informed her with a proud grin as she left the car, it went fantastic.) Melina and Alexi are out — every other Friday is their date night, and while Yelena groans and gags at how ridiculously in love their parents are, Natasha just finds it sweet and hopes she’ll have something like that someday. But you’re the closest it’s ever come to that for her, and she’s fucked that one. Royally.

“Hi, Liho,” she opens the front door and mumbles to the cat, who is sat in the hall expectantly. His haunches rise defensively, and Nat just sighs. He is very much your cat, not hers, and in recent times he seems to have been picking up on the turmoil she’s been putting you through. “Look, man, she’s out being happy, without me. Isn’t that enough?”

Liho hisses, and stalks with his head held high out of the front door.

“Yeah, whatever, leave then,” Nat grumbles, and kicks the door shut behind him. Even through the thick oakwood she can hear the noises of annoyance he makes back at her.

She kicks off her heels and throws herself onto the sofa, and lays there for a long time. It would be nice, she thinks to herself, if she could just stay here forever, and never have to face the world again. And she does for a while, but eventually the front door slams, bringing in cold air and with it the announcement that you and Yelena are home. Nat tenses as she recognises the sounds of your crying, and leaps to her feet, sliding across the smooth wooden floors in her stockinged feet towards you.

“What’s going on?” she pants, taking in the scene. You’re cradling something dark and vaguely furry to your chest, and Yelena is fussing over it worriedly. She realises like a punch to the gut that it’s Liho you’re holding. “Holy shit, what —”

She freezes as she realises she’s the one who let him outside. Is he supposed to outside? She doesn’t know anything about this goddamn cat, he’s not hers. Shit. 

“Call Alexi,” you choke out. Natasha stands still frozen in shock, so Yelena lets out a mutter of “бесполезный” and charges towards the landline herself.

“Are you— okay?” Nat tries uncertainly. “What —”

“Piss off, Nat,” you cry. Ouch. Okay, she probably deserves that.

“Sorry,” she says quietly, and steps back from you. You stand in silence for a few moments until Yelena comes skidding back out into the hall.

“He’s nearly home anyway,” she pants. “He says don’t call the vet, not until Ma has looked him, we should just stop the bleeding. It was definitely a car, probably a hit and run so he said to check the doorbell camera thingy. What is their name?”

“That is the scientific term, yes,” Natasha nods, and you make a noise that’s both a laugh and a sob. “Um, I think Dad has the app on his iPad.” Not that he knows how to use it. He’s such a comedically giant man that seeing him trying to navigate the tiny device offers her a steady stream of entertainment. (“Глупый кусок жести. Делай как я говорю!”)

“On it,” Yelena nods, and sprints off to where she last saw the device.

“I’m sorry,” Nat offers again, once her sister’s out of earshot.

“Not now, Nat,” you sigh tiredly, and you sound so broken that she just wants to scoop you up and protect you from all the evil in the world. But she’s subjected you to that evil, whether she meant to or not, and now she has to deal with the consequences.

Yelena is gone and oddly quiet for a suspiciously long time.

“You okay?” you call, cupping the cat desperately to your chest as you pad off in search of her. Unsure of what else to do, Natasha follows you, hanging behind awkwardly and making sure to give you enough space.

Yelena is stood still as anything in the kitchen, staring at the iPad propped up on the counter, rewatching one clip over and over on the security camera app. Nat can’t tell what it’s of, at first, but the exact moment you realise you let out a squeak, and squeeze Liho even closer to your chest. Only a moment later does Natasha understand what it is.

It’s from quite a while ago — the timestamp says sometime late at night in March. In the clip Nat’s car pulls up onto the driveway, with her at the wheel and you in the passenger’s seat. Once the car stops, Nat leans over and she kisses you. And you kiss back. On camera.

Liho lets out a noise of pain at how tightly you’re gripping him to you. Yelena stares blankly at the screen as the video plays over and over again.

“Lena?” you ask quietly, and when the blonde turns round her eyes are glossy. “I don’t —”

The next thing Natasha knows is a sharp pain shooting through her nose, and she steps back in shock, because there’s no way Yelena’s just hit her.

“What the fuck,” Yelena says, and there’s that scratchy sound to her voice that’s only ever there when she’s trying not to cry. “The one person who is off limits and you just couldn’t help yourself, could you?”

“Lena,” you cry out in alarm as the blonde raises her fist again. “Don’t, it wasn’t — it was an accident —”

“Oh, what,” she’s rounding on you now, “so you just slipped and fell into my sister’s —”

“No,” you plead desperately, “it wasn’t like that.”

“You were the mystery girl all along,” Yelena shouts, and presses her lips together with her eyes screwed tightly shut. “All the time you were right there. You lied to me.” She raises her fist again, but Nat is prepared this time and catches it neatly in her own.

“Don’t,” she says evenly, but she isn’t prepared for the hatred that burns in the green eyes that meet hers.

“How many months were you sneaking around behind my back?” Yelena hisses. Nat still holds her wrist tightly, so she merely turns her head to address you next. “Ты - лжец, how long have you been using me for her?”

“I wasn’t,” you plead, and whatever is shouted after that is indiscernible. After a few moments of noise the front door opens again, and Melina and Alexi stumble in, with a sense of urgency about them.

“Oh goodness, what is all this shouting, girls?” Melina asks loudly, and at the sound of her raised voice you all instinctively fall quiet. “In fact, this is not important. Where is this poor cat?”

You hold out the bundle of bandages and fur to her, face shiny with tears, and she scoops him up gently. “Will he be okay?”

“I don’t know,” she says shortly. “I will get him to the vet. I’ll call you.” She kisses your forehead, then Yelena’s, then Natasha’s on the way out and the front door slams behind her.

Yelena turns on you again with no less venom than before.

“You,” she says, “are not my family. And neither are you,” she adds to Natasha. “Do not speak to me.” She storms out of the room, and you, Nat and Alexi watch her leave, stunned.

“Well,” says Alexi with a jovial chuckle, clapping his hands and rubbing them together, “she seems a little upset, да?”

[oneforthemunny]

the original mafia!eddie blurb. how he and reader met <3

mafia!eddie munson who started moving weight with rick in hawkins like his dad did before. he swore he’d never be like him, be apart of this after what happened to his mother, but everyone’s gotta make a living some how. and rick’s boys are starting to supply to the majority of the midwest, chicago being their main route of business. bringing up far too much money to turn down. no one thinks to look in the middle of nowhere indiana. no one even knows about hawkins. it’s the perfect set up, eddie couldn’t refuse.

“it’s in your blood, boy,” wayne tells him, and from then on, his name is said with a hint of fear.

he’s laundering with the big names of the game, paying off hopper and anyone else who might be a threat. rick’s moved to another city, securing the route while eddie stays in hawkins, ensuring everything gets where it’s supposed to.

he’s the top dog, no one fucks with him. everyone knows but no one wants trouble, so they pretend they don’t know out of fear of one of his boys paying them a visit.

you’re new to town, nancy wheeler’s college roommate come to hawkins for a job at the bank here. eddie comes in one day, all black button down that’s left open, inked skin, and gold necklaces.

“hi, there sweet thing,” he purrs over the counter at you. most would cower under his stare. not you. “charles around?”

“do you have an appointment?” you ask, lifting a brow.

eddie smirks. “nah, baby, I don’t need an appointment. tell him eddie’s here to see him.”

you blink, unfazed by his slinky smile, narrowed eyes. “you can’t see mr. harrington without an appointment.” you give him an unimpressed look. “if you’d like to make an appointment, I can set one up for you-“

“-sweetheart, you must be new here.” eddie’s teeth grit slightly. “I know you’re new here, I’d remember a face like yours.” you blush gently under his grin. “me and charles go way back. I don’t need an appointment to see him.”

“eddie, was it?” you raised a brow. “I’m just doing my job. mr.harrington said no one was to come in without an appointment and as much as I would love to believe you two are old friends, I can’t just let you back there without an appointment.” you huffed, lips pursing in annoyance.

eddie’s eyes were trained on the burgundy gloss of your lips, how juicy they looked. his tongue tan over his bottom lip, fingers tapping against the desk. anyone else, he would’ve flashed his glock on his hip or walked back there ignoring her. but he’d play her little game, if for no other reason than to speak to her longer.

joyce stuttered out your name, a horrified look on her face when you turned, brows furrowed in confusion. “I-I’m so sorry, eddie, she-she’s new here. she doesn’t know yet-“

“-that’s alright.” eddie smirked, looking over at you. “she’s just doing her job. real good at it too. better than the last one.”

joyce let out a nervous laugh, glaring at you when she ushered him back. “she’s not from here.” she whispered to eddie, leading him down the hallway towards charles’ office.

“I know.” eddie grinned salacious.

“I’ll make sure she knows. I’m so sorry about this again.” joyce rambled.

eddie waved her off. “don’t worry about it. don’t go gettin’ her in trouble either. she was just doing her job.” eddie gave her a smile, but his glare was threatening. joyce nodded, watching his disappear behind the door with the frosted window.

when he returned, stopping by your desk, you turned, posture straight and attentive, a little tense. he could tell joyce told you something, what he wasn’t sure.

you assumed he was back to boast, brag and make you apologize for dare doubting him- for doing your job. instead, he stood, palms flat against the counter.

“I need to make an appointment.” eddie purred slowly. “I’ll be back in three days to see charles again. he got anything then?”

you faltered for a moment, looking down at your book, you flipped through the pages of the calendar, scanning a red, manicured nail down the pages- eddie wanted to groan. “how about at one o’clock? after lunch?” you suggested.

eddie smirked. “works perfect for me, angel.”

you penciled it in, already knowing his first and last name without him telling you. so joyce had filled you in.

“I gotta make an appointment with you too?” eddie asked, leaning against the counter. “or can I just ask you out?”

you blushed, surprised. you bit back a smile, looking down at the book to hide your heated cheeks. “that depends,” you quipped, leaning forward. “where you gonna take me?”

eddie rolled his tongue over his front teeth, smirking. “what time you get off? six?” he asked, you nodded. “I’ll pick you up then. take you anywhere you wanna go.”

“anywhere?” you repeated.

“anywhere.” eddie nodded. “wherever you want.”

you twisted your lips. “I’ve got expensive taste. that gonna be a problem?” you listed a brow.

eddie laughed. “not at all, baby.” he winked at you. “see you at six. I’ll be out front.”

your heart fluttered, gnawing at your lip.

six o’clock rolled around, too slow for your liking, and there he was. black, sleek, mercedes with a dark tint that had to be illegal. he opened the door for you, a gorgeous, obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers in the front for you.

he took you to novo dolce, an obnoxiously expensive italian restaurant downtown- your choice. you didn’t know that’s where eddie did most of his deals in the back rooms, and that are his heart only beat harder for you.

he pulled your chair out, opened the doors, ordered you an expensive glass of wine- more expensive than you would’ve ever ordered on a first date, but he let you pick your own entree. he listened to you talk about your hometown, your life before hawkins, how you met nancy and how will got you the job at the bank. you asked about him too, but his answers were short, ominous. it made you only more curious.

he held the door open for you, your hands wrapping around his waist to pull him close to you. you tasted the bourbon he’d drank on his tongue, leaving your head spinning, pulling him in for more and more, until he had you pressed against the cool metal of the car, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth, hands gripping your hips.

you knew he’d be bad for you, by the way your heart raced when his ring clad hand gripped your thigh, pinky skimming closer and closer up your leg towards your heated core. it made your squirm. you knew he wasn’t good, your better judgements told you to run, but how could you? when he looked this good, talked so sweet, and tasted like heaven.