#i want them to share a milkshake that would be good i think

[dulcesiabits]

you arrive like a dream.

summary: you are fourteen years old when bachira breaks your heart, and you run halfway across the world to avoid him. so how are you supposed to react when the universe, against all your express wishes, brings the two of you back together again?

notes: 14k words, fic, author's notes, childhood friends, childhood heartbreak, messy relationships, really kind of a study of how people fall apart and then get back together

“I want to take a break from us.”

It’s the first thing your boyfriend says to you, barely waiting for the waitress to set down your order and clear away your laminated menus before speaking.

Instead of responding, you take a long sip of your milkshake, whipped cream sinking into a chocolate sea, your mouth flooding with sweetness. You regard the boy across from you thoughtfully, the one you’ve been dating for six months ever since he confessed to you during a school dance. He’s not the only boy you’ve ever dated in America, but he’s the one you’ve dated the longest. 

Most American boys seem to regard you with a mixture of curiosity and fascination as an exchange student from Japan. The kinder ones try not to treat you any differently than they would from your other classmates, but the worse ones will make constant jokes about hentai and mock your faint accent. 

By this point, though, you’ve learned to tune out the insults and the passive aggressive comments. You’ve always been good at dealing with other people, knowing how to read the mood and adjusting your behavior accordingly. Your teachers often praised you for being so well-behaved and conscientious. 

The meaner boys treat you like a zoo animal precisely because they want to see your reaction, so it’s better not to give them the reaction that they want. Otherwise, the second they sense hurt, they’ll sink their teeth in and never let go. Of course, they don’t seem to realize that in the same way they observe you, you can observe them right back. 

As for your boyfriend, Thomas? Well. He does his best. Or at least you think he does his best. No one mocks you to his face when he’s around, and he valiantly tells people to “knock it off” whenever he thinks you feel uncomfortable. He’s sweet, if a little obtuse, and you like him well enough. You wouldn’t date him if you didn’t. But his confession had been so out of the blue, and you had no real reason to accept him– just like you didn’t have any real reason to reject him. 

In short, your relationship started on an ambivalent whim. He’s not the sort of person you can share your thoughts with, but it’s not as if you’re looking for a lifelong companionship. He’s mild, and nice to be around, which is just what you need after everything that happened to you in Japan. He’s just like the whipped cream slowly disappearing into your milkshake in that aspect.

Your boyfriend calls your name. “Hey, are you okay? Do you want me… to explain?” Thomas says softly. 

You’ve been staring into space for too long, and your milkshake is half-empty. You smile at him. “No, it’s fine. A break, right? I understand.”

“I don’t want this to be permanent. It doesn’t have to be,” Thomas says, running a hand through his shorn blond hair. “It’s just soccer season is kicking up again, and I won’t have a lot of time to spend with you. I didn’t want you to feel abandoned, or anything. And I want to focus on practice. So…” He looks at you like a kicked puppy, as if you’re the one breaking up with him, and not the other way around. “We can date again once the season is over.”

“Okay,” you say, dragging your straw through your softening milkshake. “Let’s see what happens at the end of the season.”

Thomas perks up. “Great! Do you want anything else to eat? It’s my treat.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?” Thomas says.

Milkshakes are no remedies for break-ups, but you bite your tongue. “Yes. I’m sure.”

Thomas flags down the waitress, a freckled and red-haired girl who lets her stare linger a little too long. Not that you can blame her; he is cute. But Thomas, good old oblivious Thomas, only smiles innocently in return. 

Maybe you should get jealous. Pull some American teen movie line and say that “he’s your man” and put her in her place, or something equally dramatic like that. But he’s not really “your man” anymore, is he? Besides, staring is free, and, as you often hear, this is a free country. 

By the time the two of you are out of the diner, Thomas is pulling you into a hug. You limply wrap one arm around his back. “See you later,” he whispers. “You can still call me if anything happens, okay?”

Should you remind him of the international fees that it would take for him to call you Japan? “Okay.” 

You’re still standing outside the diner when Thomas waves at you through the windows of his car and pulls away from the curb. Maybe you should have asked for a ride, but getting a ride with your now-ex is a little weird. The weather is clear and the sunshine warm, so it’s a mild enough spring day for you to walk back. You’d prefer the walk, anyways, compared to the awkward silence in Thomas’s stifling truck.

Halfway down the pavement, your phone starts buzzing in your pocket. You pull it out: it’s your mom. There’s a seventeen hour time difference between California and Japan, and the international fees of a phone call are exorbitant, but your mom has never cared much about finances. “Money is there for you to spend it,” she always claims. Easy enough for her to say when she runs an investment firm that rakes in enough yen for her to send you abroad.

“Hello, Okaa-san,” you say when you open your phone. 

“Hello,” she coos. “Good morning! Ah, wait. It’s afternoon for you, right?”

“It’s afternoon, and you’re a day ahead of me,” you confirm.

“Oho! I forgot! So you’re talking to a time traveler right now,” she says.

“Seems so. Have any news from the future?”

“You’re going on spring break next week, right?” She doesn’t wait for you to respond before barreling on. “Why don’t you fly home to Japan for the holidays?” your mom says. “I’m already booking the tickets.”

“Why’d you even ask if you were going to do it for me?” 

“Just because you always tell me you hate it when I do things without telling you. So I’m alerting you in advance,” she chirps.

You sigh. “Okay. Send me the ticket details when you’re done.”

You can imagine your mom’s grin over the phone. “Perfect! By the way, I ran into Yu-san a little while ago. We talked about how much you used to love her art lessons! Do you remember how you used to beg to spend extra time at Yu-san’s studio?”

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, the sunshine suddenly searing your neck. You fight to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. I do. Why?”

“Well, then we started talking about Meguru-kun. You always bugged me about when he could come over and play. You were such a mild-mannered child, but as soon as you saw Meguru-kun, you would just get so wild. I’d never seen you have so much fun. I swear, it was so cute.”

“Okaa-san,” you say faintly, but she continues on.

“Since it’s been so long since you were back in Japan, Yu-san and I thought it would be nice if the two of you could see each other again, so we arranged a little meeting for the four of us. Won’t it be nice to catch up with your childhood friend over dinner? There’s no need to thank me.”

There really isn’t. You gape like an open-mouthed fish after your mom’s triumphant little speech, thoughts scattering like bubbles on the surface of a pond.

“Does Meguru know that you’ve done this?” you say. It’s the only question that manages to escape. His first name feels like ash in your mouth. When did you last use it? 

“Yu-san told him right away. I think she said he was excited to see you!”

“That’s… great,” you say. “I have to go now, Okaa-san. I have something to do. I’ll see you when I fly back.”

“Okay. Love you!”

With a cheerful blip, your mom ends the call and you sink to your knees, digging the palms of your hands into your eyes. Shit. This is going to be the worst possible way to spend your spring break. Thomas is one thing, but Bachira? No way. There is absolutely no way in hell you can face him again.

You might have gotten along back in Japan, running around Chiba together as children, but it’s been years since then. Maybe if you were two regular childhood friends, you would jump with joy at the opportunity to see him. If you didn’t have the particular history you did, this would have been a pleasant surprise. But you two don’t have that sort of relationship anymore, and the thought of Bachira makes old wounds flare to life.

You can’t blame your mom for not knowing, not really. You’ve mentioned your American boyfriends here and there, but you tend to keep a tight lid on your love life, as you’ve always been her pristine, studious child. You try not to make it a habit to keep secrets from your mom.

In fact, the only secret you’ve ever kept from her is that Bachira Meguru broke your heart when you were fourteen years old. 

–

You have always wanted to be the perfect child for your mom.

Ever since you could remember, your afternoons and weekends were full of different lessons, from piano to dance, and English to math tutoring. Your mom cooed with excitement at all your new hobbies, demanding you show her every time you learned a new musical piece or math equation. You charged headfirst into whatever skill you could learn to mold yourself into a well-rounded adult, so no one could find a way to look down on your mom. All of her business associates patted you on the head and spoke indulgently at you. As if you couldn’t sense the way they viewed you as an extension of your mom, and a way to judge her.

Art lessons, however, were when your life took a sudden, unexpected turn.

You remembered this: you were eight, and it was a cool spring day during your very first lesson, and Bachira-san had given you free reign of the canvas, handing you a palette and a brush. Her lessons always took place in her studio, the door open to let in the breeze, sunlight sinking into stacks of piled canvas and painting supplies placed haphazardly on every free surface.

You stared up at Bachira-san with a frown, looking uncertainly in her smiling face. “What am I supposed to do with this?” you asked.

“Whatever you want,” she replied, ruffling the top of your head. You gave a squeak of protest. 

“But what do you want?” you persisted. 

“I want you to do whatever you want,” Bachira-san said with a grin. “Why don’t I give you some space to paint? I’ll come back in a little bit, ‘kay?”

And so Bachira-san had left you in front of a canvas, your frown growing as you dipped a brush into the green paint. Incomprehensible. The adults in your life always had such clear expectations for you, and Bachira-san’s instructions feel like she just handed you a blank map and told you to chart unexplored territory. 

You dragged a tentative, watery streak of green on the bright white canvas, but it looked ugly and intrusive. You’d marred the pristine surface already.

Something brushed your foot. You looked down to see a football rolling across the wooden floor of the studio, and not a second later, the small head of a child peeking around the corner of the door. 

“Kaa-san! I’m back– eh? Who are you?”

The boy approached you curiously. There was a bandage on his face, and streaks of dirt running down his legs and striping his cheeks.

“Who are you?” you demanded, brandishing your brush like a sword. “I’m having an art lesson right now.”

Undeterred, the boy tilted his head like a giant chipmunk. “Art lesson? This is where Kaa-san works.”

“Huh…” Your teacher must be his mom, and he must be her son, you deduced. 

Seemingly losing interest, the boy ran after the football, which had lodged in the corner. With a few swift kicks, the boy skilfully bounced it up on his knee, his elbow, and his head. It was just like the seals you saw once at the aquarium, who could perform the same tricks for a few fish as incentive.

“Hey! Can you play football?” the boy said suddenly, turning back to you with the ball balanced precariously on his head.

“Football? I can’t play. I have to study art.”

“But that’s boring… Wait!” The boy brightened as he lurched towards you, wrestling the brush from your grasp. You watched in horror as the boy slashed the brush across the canvas, dipping randomly into the paint, creating an incomprehensible mess of lines and paint splatters. “Done! Now you can play with me.”

You shoved him, as hard as you could, and the boy toppled to the floor, his football bouncing sadly into a pile of canvas. “What are you doing? You– you ruined it!”

“I helped you,” the boy protested. He leaped up into the air, regarding you quizzically. “Kaa-san paints like that all the time.”

“Bachira-san– Bachira-san is a real artist! You can’t just– argh!” You stumbled at him, annoyed, tiny fists swinging, but the boy only dodged out of the way.

A grin splitted his face. “Are we playing now? Yay!”

You don’t know how long this chase lasted. All you knew was that you wanted to wipe that unbearably happy look from his face after he ruined your lesson, because how on earth could you explain this to Bachira-san? But the boy only danced around, laughing as you tried to lunge at him, always just one step away from you.

You weren’t unathletic, but the boy had stamina on another level, because while you sweated and panted, hands on your knees, he only skipped in circles around you. “Hey,” the boy said. “Are you done already? Come on. Let’s play some more.”

How annoying! How super, super annoying! You gave a great yell as you jumped at him, and, startled, the boy couldn’t move away fast in enough time. The two of you crashed onto the floor, rolling and tumbling. You pulled at his hair and the boy grabbed at your cheeks.

“I’m back! Are you done with– Meguru? Kiddo?”

The two of you froze as Bachira-san stepped into the studio, a plate of cookies in her hand. The two of you watched her with big silent eyes as she surveyed the room. And, for the first time, you realized that you had knocked over some of her paint tubes and canvas, and the two of you were covered in streaks of paint and dust from the floor.

You sprang up as Bachira-san moved closer to the canvas you were supposed to paint on– the one her son had ruined. Your hands were clammy as you lowered your head, like a criminal readying for their punishment.

“Hey, nice artwork, kiddo,” Bachira-san said, breaking into a smile. “Very avante-garde.”

“He… he was the one who did it,” you mumbled, face heating up with shame, pointing at the boy– Meuguru– who was still on the floor. 

He stuck out his tongue. “I only helped!”

“Well, the both of you did a great job,” Bachira-san said. 

“Really…?” you mumbled, looking down at your black shoes, now scraped and scuffed from your scuffle across the floor. 

“Yes, really! Why don’t the two of you have some snacks?”

The three of you munched on cookies for the rest of the lesson as Bachira-san explained the color palette and different forms of art to you. Meguru gifted you the very last cookie with a beaming expression on his face as if you hadn’t tried to tear his hair out, and you thanked him quietly. 

During your next lesson, Meguru was waiting by the entrance of the studio. When he saw you, a goofy smile stole across his face, and he bounded towards you like a puppy.

“Here!” He thrust some flowers into your face. They were small and white, with five different petals. You took them gingerly. 

“What are these for?” you asked.

“For you! So we can be friends! I had a lot of fun with you last time, but you didn’t look really happy. Kaa-san said I have to be aware of other people’s feelings, so this is a ‘let’s be friends’ flower!” 

“You want to be friends with me?” you mumbled.

“Yup! No take backs,” Meguru added. “We’re friends for life now, okay?”

 “Are you sure?” you said. “Yesterday I was rude to you.”

“Were you?” Meguru tilted his head. “Does that matter?”

“I was. I’m sorry,” you said.

“We’re friends! So it’s okay. Hey, this time, you’ll play football with me, right?”

He grabbed your hand, and you carefully wrapped your fingers around his. For some reason, there was a strange fluttering in your chest. Why did holding Meguru’s hand feel a little different from holding your mom’s, or your friend’s hand at school? 

But all you know is this: ever since you took Meguru’s hand that day, you don’t think you’ve ever really let go.

–

You haven’t stepped foot in Japan for three years.

There’s always been an excuse not to: you were busy with studying. You had clubs and other activities. It would be too much of a hassle, and really, you wanted to enjoy every minute abroad you could get.

Your mom bought your excuses easily, so you never had to tell her the real reason you stayed away, the same reason you even bothered to study abroad in the first place: you didn’t want to be in the same country as Bachira Meguru.

But when your plane descends and jolts to a stop, when you pass through customs and scramble to find your luggage at the baggage claim, when you take that first wobbly step into the spring sunshine, squinting into the sky as you raise your hand to shield your eyes, you have no more excuses left. It’s like the universe won’t let you run away, because why the hell does Golden Week fall during the same week during your American spring break? Bachira is on break, same as you, so you can’t even use the excuse that he’s in school to avoid him. It’s a coincidence, or the universe is laughing at you for thinking you could get away so easily.

You pause to scroll through your phone; there’s a few messages from your mom, and an email from Thomas. You hover over the message with your thumb, before swiping away. You told him to email you if he needed you, since it’s not like he had Line or Whatsapp, but you didn’t think he’d actually go through with it.

Everyone is speaking in rushed Japanese around you. It’s a sea of people with black hair and black eyes and luggage and appointments and harried expressions, hurrying in every direction. This is home. America has never felt more far away.

You wander to the edge of the curb, phone still held loosely to your ear as a car pulls up. Your mom rolls down the side window, scarf around her throat and a grin wide on her face. “Hello, hello. Look who’s decided to show up on our side of the globe again.”

“It’s not like I had much of a choice,” you acknowledge. 

The driver steps out to put your luggage in the trunk, and your mom rests her arm against the window. “How was your flight?”

“It was fine,” you say. “It’s not that far from California to Japan.”

“Perfect! So I assume you’ll be ready for dinner in a few hours?”

“Dinner?”

“Well, there’s this wonderful seafood restaurant I wanted to take Yu-san to, and Meguru-kun is free, so we planned our little get-together for today.” Your mom winks, but you feel as if someone pushed you off the airplane without a parachute. Actually, you’d have preferred that to whatever torture this is.

“Okaa-san, I can’t,” you protest, taking a step back. “I just got back. I’m tired. I–”

“Nonsense! It’s just some dinner. Aren’t you excited to see Meguru-kun?”

You force a queasy smile. “But I need to get ready. I want to shower and–”

“Then we can stop by home before we go to dinner. It’s not as if we’re going right now. Come, come. Hop in the car. The sooner we get back, the more time you’ll have to freshen up.”

The next few hours pass by in a weightless blur. You turn the water as hot as it can go and stand under the thundering steam until your fingers turn pruny. You pick out a tasteful outfit, decide you’re trying too hard, and settle for something casual, but then it feels like you’re not trying hard enough. This goes back and forth for half an hour until you throw on the first thing you picked out of your closet.

It almost feels like you’re getting ready for a date, and the thought makes you want to laugh hysterically.

When you’re done, you flop onto your bed and stare up at the ceiling. You haven’t been in this room for years, and there’s no dust, but it feels like a graveyard, a testament to a different time. There are faded patches of discolored paint on the wall where you once hung up photos of you and Bachira, and empty spots on your shelves where the plastic toys he won for you at summer fairs had once stood. You forgot where you put those old trinkets. They’re either shoved in a box in the back of your closet, or buried in a garbage heap.

Your mom calls your name. “Time to go! Are you ready?”

You’re not. You never will be, but you descend down the stairs and get into the car. You still feel weightless. Dread is the only thing propelling you forward, and it grows heavier with each passing step, weighing you down with its leaden mass.

The restaurant is all polished glass and cool blue tones, so you feel like you’re standing underwater when you step inside. The tablecloths are pressed, the menus so new and shiny you think you could cut yourself on their edges. You’re scurried off to a corner table, next to a painting of the ocean, layered with many painful shades of blue, the frothy white waves so textured you could lick it off like cream.

You order something. You’re not sure what, but the waiter is smiling at your choice.

“Yu-san is running a bit late,” your mom says, with her bright red lipstick which always looks elegant on her and never tacky. You feel childish, all of a sudden, trying to play at being a composed adult, next to her and her genuine enthusiasm for old family friends.

You hope Bachira and his mom never get here. Because of a traffic jam, perhaps. Or a sudden freak accident that cuts off their path, so they have to stay home. Or maybe they’ll just forget, and you can call the whole thing a wash.

“Ah, there she is! Yu-san! Meguru-kun!” Your mom waves wildly, her arm springing back and forth.

Against your will, you turn, biting the inside of your cheek hard. They’re both in street clothes, which sends a dull jolt of surprise through you, but then again, your old teacher has never been one for formalities. You focus hard on her instead of the boy next to her, never taking your eyes off her once as they both settle at the table. Your mom hugs Bachira-san, and they both giggle like schoolgirls. There’s paint on Bachira-san’s sleeves, faint splatters of red and blue and purple. Her hair is in a bun, pulled low.

She reaches out for you, and you melt into her embrace. She smells like paint, like salt water, with an artificial floral scent from her shampoo. “It’s been so long! You’ve gotten so much bigger. Have you been keeping up with your art?”

“I still sketch sometimes,” you say. “But I’ve been busy.”

Bachira-san laughs, a charming sound like windchimes. “Ah, so my lessons weren’t totally wasted! I’d love to see what you’ve been sketching. America has been nice to you, I see.”

You’ve chewed your cheek for too long. The sharp copper of blood fills your mouth like new pennies, and you manage to work your lips into the shape of a smile. “It’s been fun studying abroad.”

And then Bachira calls your name, and you feel like you’re fourteen again, getting your heart broken for the first time. “Hey, hey!” he says cheerfully. “Long time no see!”

You fight to maintain your smile. You can’t look him directly in the eye, so you look somewhere over his shoulder. Has his hair gotten longer? It looks like his mom had tried to tame his bangs with clips. “Hi. It has been a long time.” There. You even sound like you’re happy to see him.

Bachira and his mom order. She and your mom are drinking glasses of red wine, absorbed in their own world, so it’s just you and Bachira. He’s tearing his napkin into little pieces, a miniature blizzard that only grows in intensity with each ticking second. You’re both silent. Is he feeling just as nervous as you? Or are you the only one idiotically aware of the tension? Maybe he doesn’t even notice at all.

“Meguru-kun is on his school’s soccer team?” your mom asks suddenly, forcing the two of you to look at her. “That’s amazing! I heard you want to go to nationals.”

“Yup yup!” Bachira says. “It’s fun to play with everyone.”

“That’s great!” Your mom nudges you with her elbow. “This one over here is juggling a ton of different clubs in America, too. A math team, and a science one, and an art club on top of it, I think.”

Bachira is looking at you now. You stare hard at your glass of water, avoiding his eyes. The silence grows, stretching between the two of you, taut as a wire. Your mom looks back and forth between the two of you, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows.

You stand. “Okaa-san, I think I need a bit of a break. I’m still dizzy from my flight,” you say politely, flawlessly. You smile at Bachira-san and your mom, and throw a fuzzy look in Bachira’s direction.

“Are you? I shouldn’t have pushed you so hard. Do you–”

“I just need some air,” you say, still smiling as you back away from the table. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back.”

You flee before anyone can respond, pushing through the doors and into the dizzying sunlight. It’s a coward’s move, but so what? You’ve never pretended to be strong. Your go-to is to put on a smile and smooth over any situation. It’s better not to rock the boat. It’s better to just keep everyone happy– but you can’t do that now. You can’t do this, not now, not in front of Bachira Meguru. 

You look up and down the streets, disoriented as you stumble to a stop. Where are you? The restaurant is at the end of the block, and you’ve somehow paced down the entire length of the street in your desire to escape. This is a high-end area with exclusive fashion stores and exorbitant restaurants, and their polished facades only make you feel smaller and uglier.

You sigh. Maybe it would be better to go home, to leave now before you worry anyone further. You would just ascribe all blame to your plane flight, and no one would be any wiser.

Just as you make up your mind, you see a figure blurring down the street, dashing at an impossibly high speed– a blur of yellow, no, a boy, running straight towards you– alarmed, you try to move to the side, but then he screeches to a stop right in front of you.

It’s Bachira. Shit shit shit— But then he abruptly spins around until all you can see is his back and the way his hair sticks up at the ends, perpetually untamable.

“What are you doing?” you say, irritated. Is this another one of his childish pranks?

“You don’t want to see me, right?” he says, more quietly than you thought he was capable of. 

“I–”

“This way, you won’t have to look at me. Is that okay?”

“So?” you say. “What you do has nothing to do with me.”

“Let’s talk.”

“I don’t want to,” you say petulantly. You flush; why does Bachira bring out your inner child? “There’s nothing for us to say,” you add more coldly.

“I miss you.” The world, in its perpetual motion, freezes for just an instant at his words. Planets stop their revolutions. The tectonic plates pause. Everything slows down, to this single moment in time and space.

You can only manage to faintly say, “So what?” The world resumes spinning again.

“I want to talk to you again,” he says. 

“I don’t care,” you say again.

“I’ll bug you if you don’t come see me again,” he says. “I’ll blow up your phone. I’m gonna send you a ton of mail. I’ll even go to your house and–”

“Stop!” you snap. “You sound like a stalker. Bachira, you know things can’t move backwards, right? We can only go forward. And I don’t want to act buddy buddy with you again.”

“One chance. Pleaseeee. Come on. If you talk with me just once, I won’t bother you again! I promise! Otherwise I’m going to call you! Every! Single! Day!”

You sigh. With the way Bachira is, you have no doubt that he would make good on his threat, no matter how childish or ridiculous he sounds right now. Just once. You could talk to him just once. Besides, this way, you could get rid of all your lingering feelings, and it’d be the same relief of a loose, bothersome baby tooth finally falling out of your mouth.

“Fine. I’ll see you just once. But!” you add, raising your voice before he can throw his hands up in the air in joy. “I decide when and where we will meet.”

“Yay!” Bachira whoops, waving his arms. “Let’s go back, then!”

“Go back where?”

“To the restaurant, duh. The food arrived. I was supposed to tell you that, actually. Oops!”

It would be so easy to just go home right now. But… you glance at the back of Bachira’s hair again. He’s grown taller. And despite his antsy movements, shifting back and forth on his feet, he still hasn’t turned back to look at you once, keeping his ridiculous promise.

“Fine. Lead the way,” you say grudgingly. Your steps feel light as you stare at Bachira, following him all the while, but he still doesn’t look back at you.

At the table, your mom smiles at you. “Feeling better?”

“A little,” you respond. The next time you look at Bachira, you finally meet him in the eye, and his smile lights up his face, just like it did when you were little, the sun rising to sweep the world in light and color.

–

Art lessons with Bachira-san quickly became your favorite thing in the world.

Maybe it was because she never demanded unerring perfection from you, nor did she treat you like a little doll. She delighted in every advancement you made with art, no matter how messy or imperfect. She treated you like you already had things worth saying, and listened to you babble about anything on your mind.

But as much as you loved those things, what you most loved about art lessons with Bachira-san was her son, Meguru.

At some point in the afternoon, he would inadvertently drag you away from your canvas for an adventure through the neighborhood. Bachira-san never seemed to care, and would even encourage you to leave your pastels behind and pick up a stick to be a sword, as long as you had finished drawing at least one thing that you liked.

So, in those perfect sunny afternoons, you would poke at bugs, digging worms out of the dirt and following ants back to their nest and lifting up rocks to watch rollie pollies curl up. You would climb trees, always trying to outrace each other and get to the tallest branch. You would pretend to be pirates and adventurers, clamoring up and down the slides on the park, searching for treasure.

Mostly, though, Bachira wanted to play football.

“You gotta kick it like this! And that!” he cheered, dribbling the ball back and forth between his feet in lithe, swift steps.

“Huh?” you said, trying to keep up with his movements. You always did well during your elementary school’s sports meet, but Meguru was on another level. 

“No, no! More like this!” Meguru said, and kicked the ball high in the air, only to catch it with his knee. 

“I’ll try,” you said. 

“Yay! Then let’s play a few games, okay?”

And you played, not because you particularly loved football, like Meguru did, but because you liked it when he smiled. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. Why would you need anything else? The boundaries of your world began and ended with his hand in yours.

Bachira-san would let him sit in on your lessons on slow days, too, even though he would invariably end up doodling on your canvas instead of his.

“Use your own paper, Meguru!” you retorted as Meguru scribbled a lumpy shadow onto the corner of your sketchpad. “This one is mine!”

“Eh? But we’re friends! So I can draw on yours!”

And then the two of you bickered playfully until you ended up doodling all over each other’s works, which Bachira-san then dubbed a “collaborative masterpiece,” and hung up the pictures side by side on a corkboard in her studio. It made your heart flutter to see the papers fluttering like friends.

Other times, Meguru would wander off in the middle of your lesson after drawing to his heart’s content, grabbing the football that was perpetually by his side.

“I’m done,” Meguru said, throwing down his colored pencil. There was a strange red creation on his page, some machine with a thousand different blue and green buttons and square windows. It had dragon wings and a boat’s rudder, and soared through scribbled stars and over choppy turquoise waves.

“What is that?” you asked him.

“A car that can fly across the ocean,” Meguru explained. “I’m gonna drive it up to pick up all my favorite football players, and there’s gonna be a stadium in it, and we’re all gonna play football together!”

“Can I come, too?”

“Duh! You can sit in the pilot seat with me. That’s why I made it so big,” he said, before dribbling his football out the studio door.

Even if he wandered off, Meguru would always rejoin the two of you on time for lunch. He had some sort of sixth sense for the moment Bachira-san started passing out snacks, peeking his head (sometimes with twigs or dirt scattered in his hair) around the studio door, cheerfully announcing, “I’m home!”

“Welcome back, Meguru! You’re just in time for a snack,” Bachira-san said, sweeping her hands at the row of pudding cups on the table. You were sitting quietly in a chair, posture straight, methodically scooping out every last bit of pudding with your spoon.

“Pudding! It’s pudding time,” Meguru exclaimed cheerfully at the sight of the snacks, running up to the table to snatch up several cups and a spoon in his chubby hands. 

“Meguru! Leave some for your friend!” Bachira-san scolded lightly, and Meguru would come running right back to you. 

“Here,” he said, dropping a cup in front of you.

Meguru could never sit still, so your eyes were inevitably drawn to him as he danced around the room, running from corner to corner and shoving pudding into his mouth so fast his cheeks puffed out like a small animal’s. Whenever he caught your eye he would stick out his tongue, and you would stick out your tongue in return. When there was only one pudding cup left on the table, you reached for it, before turning to Meguru. 

“Have this,” you said, handing him the pudding cup, which Meguru had been eying with a wide open mouth and sparkling eyes.

“Yay! Thanks!” he said. “Let’s share it!”

“I saved it for you, though.”

Meguru shook his head as he unpeeled the cap, revealing inch by tantalizing inch of the shiny, golden treat. “Well, I want you to have some, too.”

There was no better pudding in the world than the spoonfuls you had that day, Meguru graciously proffering the very last bite for you to eat. The memory of that sweetness resounded through your dreams. 

Even your mom had gotten used to your chattering about Meguru. He was your favorite topic, and nothing was ever quite as important or interesting as him. As soon as your mom’s car pulled up to the curb at the end of your lessons, you would clamber inside, your artwork for the day clutched tightly in your hands, and a new story about Meguru on your lips.

“Okaa-san, Okaa-san,” you said brightly. “Guess what Meguru did today?”

“Let me guess,” your mom said playfully as the driver pulled away from the curb. “The two of you played together?”

“Yup! This time, we pretended to be monkeys living in the trees! And then we got into a monkey war! And we threw a bunch of sticks at each other, and Bachira-san let us eat bananas for a snack! And we kept trying to peel them like monkeys, too.”

“How exciting! I didn’t realize I was taking a monkey home with me today,” your mom replied. “Are you having fun with your art lessons?”

“I’m having a lot of fun, Okaa-san. I’m learning a lot!” You squirmed in your seat. “Oh! But you have to hear about what Meguru did!”

You didn’t know if your mom ever got tired of you chattering on and on about Meguru. If she did, she never let it show, and she watched you with gentle eyes the whole time you talked. 

“You act differently around Meguru-kun,” she said.

“Is that bad?” you asked anxiously, suddenly alert.

She smiled. “No, not at all. Everyone has different sides to them. But I’m glad you’re good friends with him. You talk about him all the time.”

You fiddled with your fingers, feeling strangely pleased and shy all at once. Meguru always stirred unknown emotions in you. “I just like him a lot!”

“Enough to marry him?” your mom teased.

Your face brightened at her words; you hadn’t even realized that was an option. But it was such a great idea. If you married Meguru, then the two of you could be together forever. It just made a lot of sense; who else in the world would you rather spend your entire life with? No one else could compare to your best friend. If you lived in the same house, then you could have sleepovers everyday, and never be separated. “I do!”

Your mom laughed. “Does he want to marry you, though? You can’t decide that on your own!”

“He will if I ask him,” you explained. “He doesn’t say no to me.”

Your mom laughed even harder at that, tears springing to the corner of her eyes. “So he’ll do whatever you say? That sounds very sweet of him.” 

However, one memory from this period of time stood out to you, clearer than the rest. You would dream about it, taking it down from a shelf to blow off the dust and stare into its depths.

It was a hot spring day, about a year after you had started art lessons, and Meguru stumbled into the studio with bruises on his face and scrapes on his knees. He had been gone for most of the afternoon, which had disappointed you slightly, but you knew you would see him again. However, you never imagined it would be like this.

“Meguru!” You ran to him, watercolor brush dropping to the paint splattered floor, stopping to grab his shoulders in concern. “Are you okay? Do I need to get Bachira-san?”

Meguru shook his head, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “No.” 

“What happened?” you asked urgently. “You’re hurt!” 

Ushering him to a seat, you ran to the sink and grabbed a towel, running it under a gush of cold water, before returning and dabbing at Meguru’s wounds as gently as you could. Blood came away in thin streaks like paint. 

“Hey…” Meguru began quietly, in a small voice. He didn’t sound like the cheerful boy you knew, the one who was never phased and bounced off from every mistake and accident with a bright smile. It reminded you a little of how, when you were driving home after lessons, you would peek back at Meguru. His figure looked a little lonely outlined against the sunset, as he bounced a soccer ball quietly to himself. 

“What is it?” You ran back to the sink, where you opened the cabinet underneath it to fish out some bandaids. 

“We’re friends, right?” Meguru asked. 

“Huh? Where’s this coming from? Of course we are. What else would I be?” 

Meguru looked down at his knees as you slapped a bandaid on his skinned knees without a complaint. 

“So you don’t think I’m weird, right?” he said, and his lips quivered with each word. “You’re not gonna leave me?” 

“You’re not weird,” you said firmly. It occurred to you, then, that Meguru never talked about anyone in his life outside of you and Bachira-san. You hadn’t seen him with any other kids your age, either. Maybe you were his whole world, in the same way he was yours. “You’re my best friend, and I would never leave you. If you’re worried about it, then we could get married.” 

“Married?” Meguru peeked at you from under the fringe of his bangs. 

“So we can be together forever,” you explained. 

Meguru smiled, just a little, a wobbly uplifting of his mouth. “Okay! Pinky-promise me, then! We’re gonna get married.”

You lifted up your hand and, with all the clumsy reverence of a child, locked pinkies with Meguru. You shook once, twice, and then let go, as if this was a ceremony as solemn as a real wedding. 

“What happened, though, Meguru? Are you sure it’s okay if I don’t get Bachira-san?” 

Meguru shook his head. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Because we have each other, right?” 

You beamed at him, sunshine spilling in your chest, a golden glow. “Right. We’ll always have each other!”

–

Over the next few days, Bachira’s promise hangs over you like a darkening cloud, slowly threatening rain. 

It’s not like you forgot what you told him. You would contact him, eventually. But there was a time and place for everything, and this required more delicate care than anything you’ve undertaken so far. Besides, when you look at your phone screen, you feel a flush of embarrassment. You’ve never been able to bring yourself to block Bachira’s contact, and you still know his number by heart. 

When you first moved to America, a small, foolish part of you thought that he would contact you eventually. He would come running back to you, unable to stand the distance any longer. In your most unbearable, romantic daydreams, he would fly over to California and beg you to go home to Japan with him. But the weeks passed, and you entertained desperate thoughts each time you saw the lack of notifications on your phone screen.

You should message him first. No, you should call him. Or call Bachira-san instead, and learn more about Bachira through her. Or you could show up at one of his football games, and Bachira would be overcome by emotion and throw his arms around you and everything would be repaired, as easy as that. 

But your dreams were nothing compared to the overwhelming silence of reality. No, it was better to find a way to bury the memory of Bachira, and find someone else. There were so many people in the world, and maybe you had been too distracted to realize that, out there, there was someone more perfect and wonderful for you. That’s how you found yourself dating Thomas, accepting his confession without a second thought.

You’re reminded of that time as your fingers hover over Bachira’s icon now, sitting cross-legged on your bed. Keep it simple. A short message. 

Are you free to meet up today? I think we should go to the park near your house.

Not even a few seconds later, your phone dings.

yes!!!!!!! heading over now :3

Now? You aren’t even ready! Is your outfit good? What about your appearance? Your hands flutter nervously. You could be over at the park in a matter of minutes if you took the car, but… Wait. Why are you worrying over this sort of thing again? Why do you still care so much about his opinion? Knowing Bachira, it’d all be the same to him whenever you showed up in a trash bag or a thousand dollar suit. He’s never been one to care much for appearances. 

Your phone buzzes again, and you whip it up to your face. It’s not a message from Bachira, but an email from Thomas. Your heart lunches as you open it to read a simple message asking about your trip, and if you’ve been well. 

You’ve forgotten entirely about him. Instead, you’ve been thinking only of Bachira. Sure, you’re technically not dating Thomas right now, but why does it still make you feel so guilty?

You made a note to yourself to message Thomas back later. You can only handle one thing at a time right now, and Bachira is the major agenda on your list. It only takes a few minutes for you to make your way to the park, agonizingly short and slow at the same time, as if time is warping around you.

Bachira is sitting on one of the swings, twisting the metal chains in spirals and letting go slowly, so he twists in dizzying loops. The air is soft, perfumed with the scent of newly flowering trees, white petals falling like pale rain.

You pause just outside the entrance. He hasn’t noticed you yet. When did Bachira grow taller? He’s always had a round face, but puberty has melted the last of his baby fat away. His hair, at least, is as messy as ever, strands curling in every direction away from his face, his wild bangs held in check by a few clips clinging to remain on. 

The worst part is that you know him still, that you will always know him. That you would recognize him even under a different name or if you had been struck blind and deaf. You would know him by your touch alone, by scent, by taste. The very space Bachira occupies is left changed by his presence, and you could chase his lingering trails for the rest of your life. 

“Bachira,” you greet, walking slowly to where he’s still twisting in circles. You grab the chains, jerking him to a sudden stop, and he tilts his head up to look at you as he sways back and forth on the swings, your shadow falling across his face. 

“Hey, hey, hey! You’re here!” 

You nod. Your voice has fled in Bachira’s presence, and all you can do is drink him in.

“I missed you,” Bachira says.

“We met a few days ago.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he says. “I meant I missed you the whole time you were gone from Japan! I thought of you the whole time.”

You finally manage to unstick your voice. “Why didn’t you text me?”

“Because you told me not to. You were so mad at me. I didn’t want to make you madder.”

“Did you think I hated you?” you say. 

“You didn’t?” he says quietly.

“I…” you begin, then clear your throat. “I could never hate you.”

Bachira kicks at the ground. “Then why didn’t you text me?” he says, echoing your question.

“I was mad, Bachira. I…”

“You said we were best friends.”

You blink. Once, twice. “I did. I didn’t lie to you.”

“Then are we still best friends?”

“I…” You duck your head so he can’t see your face. “It’s been so long. And…” You can’t forget what happened in middle school. You can’t return to the way your relationship used to be, when you were children, and the world was simple, and uncomplicated. Why did he look at you like the two of you could? “It’s different now.” 

“I always thought you were my best friend,” he says plaintively. “That’s never changed.” 

“Then in middle school, why did you…” You chew the tender flesh of your cheek. 

When you were in America, you had fantasized about what you would say to him, how you would redo your argument and say the right words to strike home. You had thought about running into him again, and how the perfect speech would flow from your mouth, conveying all your feelings, mending whatever had broken all those years ago. In angrier times, you thought about hitting right where it hurt, your words like a sword, and you, the perfect, righteous victim. Now, though? Now your sentences come in bits and pieces, awkward and stilted, breaking under his gaze. 

“Why did you do that to me, Bachira?” you continue quietly. “Do you think we can go back to the way we were before, just like that?”

A buzz emanates from your pocket. Grateful for the distraction, you drop your grip from the swings. There are imprints of the chain links on your palm as you swipe open your new notification.

“Is it your mom?” Bachira asks.

You squint at the bright email on your phone. “No. It’s from my boyfriend.”

“Boyfriend?” There’s a strange quaver in Bachira’s voice.

“My boyfriend. In America,” you add. “He plays football, too, and he drives me to places.” You feel mean then, your heart shriveling into something small and petty. You hadn’t intended to lie about Thomas, who was just your ex, but the lie feels good as you drink in Bachira’s lost gaze, eyes wide and shimmering with unspoken emotions. 

“I’m qualified to make nationals for football,” Bachira says, that odd tone still in his voice. 

“So is my boyfriend,” you add. The football season in America had just started, but Bachira didn’t need to know that. 

“Cars are overrated. I just walk everywhere. It helps me become a better player,” Bachira adds. 

“I should probably go so I can respond to him,��� you say, waving your phone, ambling slowly towards the park entrance. Bachira’s gaze never leaves your phone.

Bachira kicks hard at the ground, shoes digging into the angry dirt. “So you like him, then? You like him a lot?” 

“Bachira.” Your gaze bores into him. A breeze, sweet with the scent of flowers, ruffles his hair. “The way we are now, I don’t think you have the right to question me.” 

He flinches, spinning the swing into motion, as if he can fly far from your words. But he’s only going back and forth in one direction, legs kicking at the sky. 

You watch him for a while longer. All the anger drains out of you then. What is it that you came back here for, anyways? What are you looking for? What do you want? If growing up is going to be so painful, then maybe Bachira is right. You should have remained the way you once were, just the two of you. 

–

By pulling some strings and begging your mom, you were able to get into the same public middle school as Meguru. The plan initially had been to send you to a fancy prep school overseas for both middle and high school, but you rebelled and pleaded, threatening to run away and to ruin the family reputation. 

“I’ve never seen you cry so hard,” your mom teased. “From the way you were acting, I might as well have been torturing you. I didn’t realize you hated the idea of studying abroad so much.” 

Your face burned at her words. “I’m sorry, Okaa-san.”

“Don’t be. It was cute. You hardly ever act like that, so it was nice to see.” She slid a sly smile at you. “But I wonder… is there a particular reason you wanted to go to this middle school?” 

You shook your head vehemently. “No! Not at all!” 

“Really? Not even for a certain little cute friend of yours?” your mom continues. 

“Okaa-san!” you protested, and she threw up her hands in surrender. 

When you started middle school with Meguru in the spring, though, it hadn’t been like what you expected. For starters, there was always a sea of people around you, pushing Meguru away like he was a piece of kelp set adrift on the tide. You knew how to make friends; how to smile just so, or to reply in the right lulls in the conversation to keep it going. But Meguru was always in a corner by himself. Even when you invited him over, your classmates would smile awkwardly at his nonchalant comments, or find reasons to drift away.

“He’s weird,” one of your classmates confided in you, one hand cupped around her mouth. “He talks to himself sometimes, and he never pays attention in class. He’s not a bad guy, but… he should try to fit in more.”

She looked expectantly at you, as if offering you a gift. You backed away from her instead, your own smile strained. “I see. But I like Meguru the way he is. He’s not doing anything wrong, and I don’t see why he has to change.” 

Regardless of how the other students treated Meguru, though, you were determined not to let it affect you.

You were the only one to greet him in the hallways, and to sit by him during lunch. In the warm weather, the two of you would sit side by side in a secluded corner of the classroom, or try to find a place to sit outside under the shade of some trees. You walked home with him (because he preferred to dribble his football on the way, instead of taking a ride in your car), and walked to school with him, asking the driver to drop you off in front of his house. You dragged Meguru to study with you, somehow pulling him through each exam by the skin of his teeth, because you refused to imagine a situation in which the two of you wouldn’t be in a class together. Your classmates started joking that if they wanted to find you, all they had to do was call Meguru’s name, and you would pop up expectantly. 

It was shaping up to be a good three years of middle school. You would graduate on time at this rate, and go to high school together. The only issue, though, was something that took place during the start of your third year of middle school. A classmate of yours had asked you to meet him after school, surrounded by two of his friends who grinned and elbowed him as he rubbed his neck, refusing to look you in the eye. 

You didn’t think much of it at the time. When you showed up at the classroom, he turned to you with a sudden desperation, face red, and bowed. 

“Please go out with me!” he said. “I’ve had a crush on you for the past two years!” 

“Huh?” You gripped the straps of your bag tighter. “You… you like me?”

He bowed even more deeply at your confused tone. “Is it no good? Do you not feel anything for me?”

“I’m flattered, but I don’t like you in that way. I’m sorry,” you said gently. 

The boy groaned. “I knew it. It’s because of Bachira, right? The two of you are always together. I don’t stand a chance against him.” 

“Because of Meguru?” you repeated. 

The boy nodded. “You like each other, right? It’s obvious. Man, I shouldn’t have tried to get in between that.”

You couldn’t find the words to deny him or to fix the misunderstanding, even after the two of you parted. You and Meguru? Of course you liked him. He was your best friend. 

But you couldn’t let go of that boy’s words. You mulled over them, again and again. Like clothes that no longer fit quite right, your relationship with Meguru had changed shape before you had noticed. Somehow, that boy was the first to notice.

You always waited for Meguru to finish soccer practice, no matter how late it ran. Sometimes you had student council duties, or you would just sit cross-legged and work on your homework as he ran around the field. You’d done this for all three years of middle school, and the entire team knew you by name. The coach would jokingly ask if you were okay if you ever missed a day of practice, calling you an honorary member of the team. 

Today was no different, and you made your way to the soccer field to wait for him. Without fail, when Meguru finished, the first thing he did was whip his head around, looking for you. As soon as he did, he made a beeline straight to you, without a care in the world. 

He threw his arms around you from behind, causing the two of you to tumble into the grass. You shrieked, and he laughed, and you were a tangled pile of clinging limbs and grass stains.

It’s what he did. It’s what he was like. So why did your heart burst like a thousand butterflies into flight, reacting to his touch? He’s always been touchy. Your classmate was getting in your head. 

“There you are!” Meguru said, looping his arms around your neck, heedless of who was watching, even if the team was used to his antics. “Let’s go home now!”

When he nuzzled his head into your shoulder, you couldn’t move, skin hot wherever he touched you. 

“Okay, let’s go home, Meguru,” you said softly.

As soon as you went home, you sprinted past your mom to leap onto your bed and hug your pillow. You liked Meguru. You liked him so much, and it was so obvious now. It was the most natural stage for your relationship to progress to. Maybe you had always liked him, and you just didn’t have the words for it until now. Meguru had always been the most special person in the world to you, and that idea had simply taken on a new shade of meaning.

He had promised to be with you forever, hadn’t he? And Meguru would never break a promise to you.

You were careful not to let Meguru know your feelings over the following months. It would be embarrassing if he discovered them so soon, especially when it had taken you so long to realize them. But everyday after you went home, you would list all the things he had done that day, like touching your hand and hugging you, and calling your name three different times during history class. Everything about him felt so much more special now. 

You liked him. You liked him so much. And you had to do something about it before graduation. As the months dripped by like water falling from a melting icicle, you planned when to make your move: on the most romantic day of the year. 

During Valentine’s Day, you splayed your bandaged fingers across your desk in anticipation, your gift wrapped neatly in your backpack.

It had taken you all week to make the chocolates, which you had painstakingly molded into chocolate hearts. Since it was the first Valentine’s in which you were giving someone chocolate, you had delicately filled each heart with different fruit flavored jams– strawberry, orange, and even pineapple, Meguru’s favorite. The chocolates were nestled in a bag of pink cellophane and white tissue paper, with a red ribbon neatly tied in a bow on top. You had refused help from everyone, even the chef and your mom, because it was more special if you did it by yourself. 

You hadn’t been able to stop bouncing in your seat all morning, nervous energy thrumming through you as the teacher’s history lecture went in one ear and out the other. The chocolates burned like a secret in your school bag, and you couldn’t resist fiddling with the zipper, constantly sliding it down to make sure the gift was still there.

When lunch finally rolled around, like an anxious puppy, you jumped out of your seat and headed straight to Meguru, who was sleeping, his head buried in his arms and doodles scattered across his notebooks like stars.

“Meguru,” you said, shaking his shoulder. “Meguru, wake up. Class is over.”

“Uh?” Meguru blinked one slow, sleepy eye at you, before stretching. “It is?”

“Yes. I have something to show you,” you emphasized. “It’s a surprise.”

“What is it?” He sat up, staring at you expectantly. 

You glanced around the classroom; only a few people were still in their seats, eating homemade lunches and chatting with their friends, heads bent over magazines or phones. Reaching in your bag, you fumbled for the chocolates, hands trembling as you presented them to Meguru.

“Chocolate? Wow, thanks!” His eyes lit up as he reached for the bag, untying it and shaking a few of the hearts into his hand. He popped them in his mouth, his lips curling up in bliss. “These are so good!”

“I made them myself,” you explained shyly. “It took a while, but… I wanted to do something special for you, Meguru.”

He stuffed another chocolate into his mouth. “Thanks! You’re the best friend ever!”

Your face twitched at his choice of words, but you still plowed on. “Well… These aren’t just any chocolates, you know? Do you remember what day it is?”

“Uh…”

“It’s Valentine’s,” you supplied impatiently. “So, um…”

“These are friendship chocolates?” Meguru asked, his cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk.

“No.” Your hands were clammy now. It was just Meguru. Meguru, who you’ve known forever. Meguru, who promised to be by your side. Meguru, who understood you more than anyone else in the world. Why were you so afraid? He’d never hurt you.

“Can I share these with my mom?” Meguru continued innocently. “I think she’d love ‘em, too.”

“No!” Meguru stared at you, and your cheeks burned. “Sorry. I can make some for Bachira-san later. But these are special, Meguru. They’re… they’re not friendship chocolates.”

A sudden hush descended over the classroom. You were on a stage, a bright, hot spotlight beaming down on you and making your neck sweat. This wasn’t anything like what you read about how confessions went in shoujo manga. Meguru’s clueless eyes burned into you, and it was like he didn’t understand the script you were trying to read for him.

Meguru ate another heart, gnashing it beneath his teeth. “Eh? What other kind of chocolate can they be?”

You forced the words out. “They’re… they’re romantic.  I’m confessing to you. I like you, Meguru.”

Your breathing was shallow, and your heart beat like a frightened animal. You couldn’t look at him anymore, and the heaviness of your words dropped like stones onto the floor. 

“Oh. Um… I’m sorry.” The awkwardness in Meguru’s voice was too much. You backed away from his desk, tears burning at the corner of your eyes. When you looked up, you could see your classmates, feigning disinterest as they purposefully avoided your gaze. 

You burst out of the classroom, ignoring the sound of Meguru’s chair screeching back as he yelled after you, “Wait!”

You were fast, but Meguru was faster. You skidded down the steps wildly, taking several at a time, and you were half down the landing when Meguru caught up to you. He called your name at the top of the stairs, but you refused to look back– and then, he landed in front of you, breathing heavily, shirt sleeves rolled up. He had jumped down an entire flight of stairs to catch up to you. 

Meguru called your name. “Wait! Wait, wait.”

You turned your head away, but you could still sense Meguru in front of you. Your childhood friend. Your best friend. You had drawn hearts around his name in the back of your notebook this morning.

“What is it?” you said softly. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe Meguru had just been surprised, and now he would confess his feelings.

 It was a joke, right?” he said uncertainly. “You were joking. It was a weird joke, but–”

“I wasn’t joking!” you yelled, shoving him backwards with a wild strength that surprised you. You haven’t been this mad at him since you first met. 

Meguru stumbled back a few steps, watching you with wide eyes. It was an expression you hadn’t seen on him before: confused, lost, and afraid. Shouldn’t you be the one making that face?

“Okay. Um. It’s just weird if our relationship changes like that. You and me? That’s kinda weird,” he said again. “We’re friends! I don’t want to be anything else.”

You dug your nails into the meat of your palm until the pain was all you could think about. “I don’t want to be friends.”

“Huh?” Now Meguru looked even more afraid.

“I like you, Meguru,” you said, a broken sob in your voice. “I can’t just be friends with you. I…”

Meguru stepped closer to you. There was a starburst of hope in your chest, before it was dashed by Meguru dropping your Valentine’s Day chocolate in your hands. You curled your fingers over the hearts, crushing them in your palm.

“I don’t want to do this,” Meguru mumbled. “I’m gonna pretend I didn’t hear anything, okay?”

“You’re a coward,” you said furiously, pushing all your hurt into your voice. You weren’t sad. You weren’t going to cry. Not especially in front of him. “I– I don’t want to see you again. Don’t talk to me. You liar! You said you would always be by my side!”

When you looked down the stairs, you could see a few of your fellow students, awkwardly hovering near the bottom of the landing. They averted their gazes when they met your eyes, but your whole body felt hot with rage and embarrassment. How many people had seen and heard the two of you? By tomorrow, everyone in school would probably be gossiping about how you were rejected by Meguru.

You ran. You ran, and this time, Meguru didn’t stop you as you jumped down the stairs. Somehow, you made your way home. You started listlessly at your phone, but there was no message from Meguru. You had been the one to tell him not to contact you, but… you threw your phone onto your bed.

Stupid Meguru. Stupid you. It had never occurred to you that Meguru might not feel the same way as you. You had been so arrogant, so certain that he liked you, and now you had embarrassed yourself in front of the whole school. 

Did he forget? He promised to marry you. But that had been on a childish whim of his, no doubt, something he had long forgotten. You buried your head in your arms, and cried until you could drown the entirety of Chiba in your tears.

When your mom came home that night, a frown was brewing on her face, but the sight of your puffy eyes and hoarse voice stopped her lecture.

“What happened?” she asked you. “The school called me. You skipped classes.” 

You shook your head. “I want to study abroad for high school.”

“What? Are you sure? You were so excited to go to school with Meguru-kun. The process would be–”

“I don’t care,” you said. His name stung your heart. “I want to go to America, Okaa-san. Please.”

She peered at you closely, then sighed. “Okay. Okay, let’s talk about this later. But if you really want to, then it’s not too late to make it happen.” 

For the rest of your time until graduation, you avoided Meguru. You didn’t text him. When you saw him in the halls, you turned around and went a different way. You stuck closely to your other friends, and went home right away whenever you didn’t have any extracurriculars. You no longer visited the football field after school. 

No one was cruel enough to talk about your confession to your face, but you could feel the glances, hear the whispers, until everyone lost interest and moved on to the next piece of gossip.

A part of you expected Meguru to come running to you, but he quietly kept out of your way. Maybe he was avoiding you, just as much as you were avoiding him. What an odd thought; Meguru had always been the first to whine when you had to leave to visit your grandparents for the summer. He was the one who always threw his arms around you. Maybe your relationship hadn’t meant that much to him after all.

When it came time for you to move to America, you and Meguru graduated middle school without talking to each other at all. 

–

For some reason, you can’t bring yourself to talk to Thomas about Bachira.

In fact, you haven’t told any of your American friends about Bachira. You spent the first year in California trying to forget him, blindly agreeing to go on dates with any boys who showed interest in you. But their love for you was never greater than your own lack of it. Thomas is only the most recent one and you follow his lead, not out of loyalty, but convenience. 

You keep your thoughts held tight to your chest, precious secrets that you refuse to let spill out of your grasp. With everyone in your life, sometimes even your mom, you have always put up a front. The only person you didn’t do that with was with Bachira. 

Bachira is an open wound, one that grows bigger with every year, overwhelming you with its enormity and the way pressing on it still makes you ache. Your friends would laugh if you told them you were hanging on to a boy for so long, nursing this pain like your own child. They wouldn’t understand, and you would look pathetic in their eyes. There are no words in English or Japanese to describe what he means to you. His hold on you is as eternal as the way the flowers bloom during the spring, and the world revolves on its axis. 

The rest of spring break passes in a flash. You hardly run into Bachira anymore, and your mom doesn’t force any more meetings. You email Thomas, who responds with boyish enthusiasm even at your dry answers. 

The night before your morning flight, you rush up and down the stairs, sorting your various toiletries and stuffing clothes into your suitcase. 

“All ready?” your mom asks you, nursing a mug of tea at the counter, watching you bustle.

“Yes, Okaa-san,” you say obediently. She holds open her arms, and you stop by for a hug, her arms enveloping you. She runs a hand in circles along your back, humming to herself.

“You’re such a good child,” she says affectionately. “Come visit me again soon. I’ll be lonely without you.”

“Okay.”

“And…” She pulls back to peer into your eyes. “You’re a little too good to me. You should try to be more wild. Rebel, so I can throw up my hands in exasperation at you and complain to all my friends.” 

“I’ll try, so you have something to talk about with your coworkers,” you say, and she pinches your nose. 

“Don’t try. Just do it,” she scolds. “I’ll always forgive you for any silly mistakes you make.”

“Okay, Okaa-san,” you say. “If I break a law, I’ll let you know in advance to prepare my bail.” 

She smiles sadly. “You’re so old now. I wish you wouldn’t get hurt in life, but I can’t fix everything for you.” 

“The world isn’t that nice,” you agree. 

“You haven’t talked to Meguru-kun recently,” she says gently. “Did something happen?” 

You stiffen, your face shuttering closed. “We’re okay. We’re just busy.” 

She stirs the tea in her mug. “Okay. I won’t push you any further. Your life is yours to live. But I’ll always be here for you, if you need me.” 

She leans in to kiss you on the forehead, and you want to cry. From the way she hesitates, you know she wants to say something else, but she simply lets you go.

How long has your mom suspected that your relationship with Bachira isn’t as pleasant as you pretend it is? You rub your forehead as you rush upstairs, dumping the last of your items into your suitcase. You sit on top of it to force it closed as you start zipping up the side, when your phone buzzes.

Bachira? No, it’s Thomas. The header of the email causes you to drop your phone in surprise.

About our relationship…

You pick up your phone, skimming the email.

Can we get back together? You read. I miss you.

How fickle. He was the one who broke up with you, and now he wants to get back together right away as soon as it’s convenient. That might not be a bad idea, though. A relationship where you knew what was expected from you, a simple transaction, would be easy. 

Your phone buzzes again; it’s an incoming call. You stare at the caller ID for a few seconds, your surprised face reflected in the screen, before you answer, pressing the phone close to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hi,” Bachira says. “I’m outside.”

“What?”

“I’m outside your door,” he repeats. “Can you come outside? If not, I’ll come in.”

“Why are you here?” You stand, heart pounding. 

“Kaa-san told me you were leaving tomorrow,” Bachira says. “So I wanted to stop by.”

“Bachira…”

“Just for a little bit,” he persists. “That’s all you need to do.”

You sigh. “All right, fine. But only for a few minutes, okay?”

You hang up, pulling on a light jacket before you’re flying down the stairs, trading your house slippers for flip flops, and burst into the cool night air. The sun is setting, painting the sky in vibrant swatches of peaches and reds. There’s a cool breeze, sweet with the scent of new growth.

Bachira is leaning outside your family gate, a football tucked under his arm.

“What is it?” you ask him tersely, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets.

“You’re going back to America?” he says.

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“When will you come back?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I’ll go to university there,” you reply. You had planned to come back for summer break to see your mom, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Okay.” Bachira looks at the ground. “What about your boyfriend?”

“Why do you want to know about him?”

“Do you like him?”

“I… Sure,” you say, but it sounds weak, even to your own ears. “We’re on break right now because he’s busy with football season, but we’re thinking about getting back together,” you add more strongly, and Bachira kicks at the ground.

“He sounds like a jerk. Why’d he break up with you if he just wants to get back together whenever he wants?”

“At least he’s clear with his intentions,” you say sharply. “And he doesn’t run away.” 

Bachira flinches, but it doesn’t make you feel as good as it should have. “... Shouldn’t…” he mumbles. 

“What?” You tilt your head to catch his words.

“You shouldn’t get with him again,” Bachira says, still kicking at the ground like he would dribble his football. 

“Why not?” You laugh, short and bitter. “How is that your business, Bachira? It’s not like you’re my boyfriend. We’re not even— we’re not even friends anymore.” 

No response. What did you expect? 

“I’m tired of this, okay?” you say softly. “All this stupid back and forth. We keep going in circles. If all we’re going to do is hurt each other, then let’s just end this here.”

Bachirs looks up at you finally, his gaze full of so much desperation and uncertainty. His chin trembles as he says, “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, more serious than you’ve ever heard him. “I’m sorry I hurt you. I’m sorry I rejected your confession. I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

Bachira might as well have stabbed you. “Do you think that’s going to fix things? You’re sorry? Now? After all this time? What’s that going to fucking fix?” you say, your voice rising with each word you spit out. 

“You didn’t call me, either,” Bachira says quietly. You flinch at the raw hurt in his voice, his overwhelming sadness. “You’re the one who just left without a word. You’re the one who ignored me. You were my only friend. You were my best friend.”

You chew your lip hard. Were. Not are. “I couldn’t face you anymore,” you say. 

“I thought our friendship was stronger than that,” he says.

“I guess it wasn’t.” 

“Do you really not want to be friends anymore?” 

“What do you think? You want us to go back to how we were before and pretend nothing happened? It’s too late. Everything has changed. There’s no going back,” you spit. “You broke my heart. I… I loved you.”

“Then why did you just leave so easily? If you loved me?” Bachira asks. “You ran away and didn’t even try.” 

“I could ask you the same,” you snap. “Just tell me it’s over. Okay? Reject me for good.”

“I can’t.” 

“Why not? It was so easy for you before.”

“Because I love you,” Bachira says desperately.

It’s the world’s cruelest joke. Bachira reaches an uncertain hand towards you, and you jerk back, tears rolling down your face and blurring your vision. He can’t touch you. If he does, you’ll break apart. “Don’t lie,” you say. “You’re the worst.”

“I’m not lying. I didn’t want to admit it before,” he says. “When you told me you liked me, I was scared by how I felt.” 

“Stop it.”

“I didn’t want to lose you,” he says. “Things were changing so fast. You were my only friend, and if you liked me, then we couldn’t ever go back to being just friends.” 

“So you’re doing this to me now?” you say. The tears are still falling, and you hug yourself. You feel so weak and so young, all your surety stripped away. “You think you can do this to me?” 

I’m sorry,” he says. 

“You lost me either way,” you snap, “when you broke my heart like that.” 

“I know. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you how I felt, and I’m sorry I pushed you away.” 

You give a strangled laugh. “Really?”

“You don’t have to like me,” he says. “You can be as mad as you want. If you gotta go to America, that’s fine. If you– wanna be with someone else, too, if you don’t love me, that’s okay. We don’t even have to be friends, if you hate me. Just– can I please– can I love you? Is that okay? I don’t want to lose you again.”

“You’re so mean, Meguru,” you whisper. You can’t go forward until you confront him. You can’t go back because it’s impossible. Your fate has always been twisted by the boy in front of you.

You grab the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in your hands savagely, as you press your lips against his. It’s a short kiss, salty with the taste of your tears, and Bachira is too surprised to kiss you back. 

“Eh?” Bachira asks dazedly.

“You piss me off,” you say. 

“Uh?”

You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Meguru. I’m sorry I left you alone and that I ran away from you and that I gave up so easily. I was scared, okay? But… I never hated you. Ever.”

“You called me Meguru,” Meguru breathes. And then he throws his arms around your neck. 

“You’re so clingy,��� you complain, hesitantly wrapping your arms around his back. You’ve missed his warmth, familiar and pleasant and gentle. “Didn’t you hear what I said?” 

“Sort of!”

“Pay attention!” 

“Okay. Well, let’s start over from the beginning, then,” he says. “We can do it again this time, and do it better.” He pulls back from you, clearing his throat. “Hi, I’m Bachira Meguru! It’s nice to meet you,” he says goofily, sticking out his hand.

“Hi.” You take his hand, giving it one shake, introducing your name. “Let’s… let’s be friends.”

“We can’t date?” Meguru asks, pouting, and you frown at him. 

“No. Not now,” you acknowledge. “I have to talk to Thomas properly about how I feel. And I’m going back to America tomorrow. And there’s so much that I have to sort through—”

Meguru leans in and kisses you mid-sentence, a quick, butterfly of a kiss that steals all the words from you. “We’ll be friends for now. And if you want, then we can try dating. And even marriage.”

“Married?” you sputter. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“You did,” he says nonchalantly. 

“From when we were kids,” you point out. 

“Eh? Does that matter? We promised, so we have to follow through on it.”

“Don’t tell me you were going to propose to me.”

“In the future,” he says. “We can’t get married before we’re adults.”

“Meguru,” you say slowly. “Were you seriously planning on proposing to me? Before even asking my opinion?” 

“What’s wrong with that? I thought you liked romantic stuff. Isn’t that romantic?” 

You grit your teeth. You move to grab his shoulders, but Meguru dodges your grasp and slides backwards. You lunge at him again, but he dances out of your way.

“Come back here, Bachira Meguru,” you yell. “Do you have any common sense?”

“Who needs that?” he says cheerfully.

It feels like your first meeting as kids, so long ago. No one else in the world can quite make you feel this way, for better or for worse. Frustrated, you chase after Meguru as he weaves out of your grasp and hops down the length of the sidewalk. This goes on for a little bit, and just when you’ve run out of steam, Meguru spins around. Before you can move, he leaps at you and gathers you into a hug, his arms around your waist.

“Meguru, cut it out,” you say, annoyed, but you don’t move out of his grasp.

“Hmm…” he says. “I’ve decided! I’ll come visit you in America!”

“What?”

Meguru nods to himself, satisfied. “It’ll be fun! I’ve never been out of the country before! Hey, do you think I could fit in your suitcase?”

“Obviously not!”

You take a deep gulp of the spring air, sweet in your mouth, the flowering trees sending a blessing of pink petals over you. You and Meguru. Meguru and you. It’s just like when the two of you were little, only you’re starting over this time. Nothing would ever be the same again, but what new things could you build instead? What sort of people would you be now? 

You hold out your hand to Meguru. He takes it easily, interlacing your fingers like he’s always belonged there. With his touch, an endless world of possibilities unfolds before you. This time, the two of you will explore it together.

#liya writes #blue lock #bachira meguru #bachira meguru x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock imagines #bllk #blue lock bachira #bllk x reader #bllk bachira #bachira x reader #meguru bachira #meguru bachira x reader

[andvys]

We're no good alone | S.H. & E.M.

Part two of It's just us

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! rough smut, threesome, spanking, choking, manhandling, mentions of unrequited love and heartbreak, mentions of cheating, slight angst, fluff, happy ending

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader | Eddie Munson x fem!reader | slight Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: As you and Steve put your rivalry aside, you grow closer and closer and take another step forward when Steve befriends the man who once broke your heart. @mysticmunson thank you for the idea with the polaroid picture!

Word count: 14k+

Author's note: I'm not too sure about this but I didn't just write 14k words for nothing so I hope you're gonna like it

Read the prequel story about Eddie x reader here -> For me it's always you (more parts coming soon)

stranger things masterlist

Feel free to send in requests for drabbles/blurbs for this fic!

-

This has to be one of the weirdest days in your life, first you hooked up with Steve after finding out that your boyfriend had cheated on you with his girlfriend and now you are sitting at Benny’s diner, sharing fries with him and drinking vanilla milkshakes as though it’s the most normal thing for you both to do. It’s not. You hate each other’s guts, you always did. The rivalry had already started in middle school and carried on until now. 

You were disgusted by everything he said and done and yet that didn’t stop you from having sex with him. You let him take out his frustrations on you and he let you too, it was merely hate fucking, that’s all. Right?

It felt good, he made you feel good. You needed it after what you had run into a few days back. 

You never thought that Jonathan would do this to you, that he would hurt you like this but it seems like every guy that you want, doesn’t actually want you. It’s not the first time you have been hurt by men like him, he wasn’t the first. 

He may not know it but he ripped open wounds that you had gotten before him. 

Why aren’t you enough for them? 

What does she have that you don’t have? 

“Stop it.” 

“Stop what?” 

“Stop thinking those thoughts,” Steve sighs. 

“How would you know what I’m thinking about?” You snap at him, rolling your eyes. 

He chuckles, shaking his head at you, he dips his fries into the ketchup, taking his time to answer the question, he eats the fries and drinks his milkshake. 

You have to admit, he looks pretty. His hair is messy from all your tugging, his cheeks are flushed, his eyes are filled with.. peace? For someone who just got cheated on, he looks awfully relaxed and content. 

“It’s because I’m thinking them too,” he admits, “but don’t think that you aren’t enough, y/n. You are enough.”

You brows knit together, you stare at him without saying anything. 

His hazel eyes flash with something unrecognizable, he smiles a little, “anyone would be lucky to have you.” 

“You’re just saying that,” you mumble as you play with your straw, “you have to say that.”

“It’s the truth. I know you hate me but I’m not lying to you,” he shrugs, clearing his throat, he looks away from you, suddenly too shy to hold eye contact, “we might not get along but you’re not that bad, you know? You’ve been a good girlfriend to him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being annoying or mean with him, like you’re with me,” he chuckles, eyes raking over your body, “plus, you’re like really hot and pretty and way out of his league.” 

A smirk tugs at your lips, his cheeks grow more red as he continues to look anywhere but at you. 

“Does someone have a little crush on me?” 

He rolls his eyes, “shut up, no I don’t.” 

He used to have a crush on you, actually, he was pretty sure he was frozen in place the first time he saw you. 12 year old Steve was pretty sure that he was in love with the pretty girl that just moved to Hawkins after her parents decided to come back from the big city. He liked you but he sure had a funny way of showing it, instead of befriending you like he should have, he pulled at your pigtails and shoved you around. 

You giggle as he glares at you. Leaning back in your seat, you look him up and down, “you’re not too bad either but I wouldn’t touch you with a ten foot pole.” 

He scrunches his face up in confusion, furrowing his brows, “we literally just fucked at the party and then you made me stop the car because you wanted to suck my dick.” 

“That was in the past,” you say, blushing. 

“That was 20 minutes ago, you let me cum inside you.”

“Well you bend me over the car.”

“Because you asked me to!” 

“I like your dick, it’s really big.” 

A sharp gasp makes you tear your eyes away from his, looking up, you find a middle aged lady looking at the two of you in disgust. The cross necklace around her neck clutched in her hand, she looks at you in disgust, frowning as she looks between you both. 

“Sinners!” She sputters before she continues walking, glancing at you one more time with a horrified expression on her face. 

You and Steve look back at each other, only being able to contain the laughter for a few seconds before you burst out laughing. His hazel eyes are filled with amusement, he puts his hand on his stomach as he leans back, “did you see her face?” 

You nod, still laughing at the older lady.

“I think she’s gonna go pray for us now,” you giggle. 

“It’s no use, we’re already sinners,” Steve snorts. 

The ring above the door sounds through the diner, you look behind Steve’s shoulder almost instantly. Your smile falls when your eyes lock with those brown eyes. For a moment he stares at you, not moving, he just stands there and looks at you. 

Steve straightens up, face growing serious when he sees the annoyance in your eyes and lingering sadness, your brows are furrowed and you glare at whoever it is that you’re looking at. As he turns around he expects it to be Jonathan but instead it’s Eddie Munson who is receiving the death stare from you. 

Steve raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now that he knows that you have hooked up with Eddie in the past, he can’t help but wonder what else has happened. Clearly, it wasn’t just casual hookups the way you described it earlier to him, you giggled and mentioned it as though it was nothing meaningful but that was obviously a lie. 

Eddie is staring at you with his big puppy dog eyes, while you stare at him with the look that only he ever received in the past. 

He tears his eyes away from you and they flash with confusion when he looks at him. Steve can imagine what kinds of questions are running through his mind right now, ‘why is she here with him?’, ‘where are Jonathan and Nancy?’, ‘why are they here together?’ 

It’s no secret to others that you and Steve don’t get along, the whole school knows about your rivalry. 

He looks at you one more time before he finally turns away and walks towards the counter. 

Steve turns back to you with a curious look on his face, your arms are crossed, your jaw is clenched and you look out the window, blinking. 

“Are you… okay?” Steve asks almost skeptically. 

“Don’t act like you care, Harrington,” you snap at him again, giving him the usual bratty attitude. 

He sighs, rolling his eyes. 

“Can you drive me home?” 

“No.” 

Your lips part, glaring at him, you scoff, “what do you mean no?” 

Steve smirks, “say please and I’ll drive you home.” 

“Seriously?” 

“Yes.” 

You huff angrily, rolling your eyes. It amuses him. 

“I can walk home,” you shrug. Getting up, you reach for your purse and smooth down your skirt. 

“You think I’ll let you walk home?”

“Well, you said you won’t drive me home,” you counter. 

“Just be nicer, jeez.” 

“I’m not nice.” 

He gets up as well and looks at you as he reaches for his wallet, throwing some money on the table, “did anyone ever tell you that you’re a brat?”

You feel his eyes on you and it’s making your skin crawl. You step closer to Steve, batting your eyelashes at him, “can you please drive me home, Steve?” You ask as you reach for his hand. 

His lips curl into a smirk, he knows exactly why you are doing this. 

“Yeah, let’s go.” 

He places his hand on the small of your back and looks down at you as he leads you out of the diner, you are not looking at him but he is looking at you, with both a frown on his face and confusion. He doesn’t even notice that Steve is looking, he only pays attention to you. 

You let out a loud sigh when you step out of the diner, breathing in the fresh air. Neither of you speak up, at least not until you’re back in his car. 

“So.. what happened with you and Munson?” Steve asks, watching the way you tense up, “I thought it was just casual hookups.” 

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Eddie Munson was just another boy who broke your heart. Jonathan was the one who put it back together, only to hurt it was well. 

You moved on from it, at least you thought you did. Jonathan’s and Nancy’s betrayal wasn’t the only painful memories on your mind the past few days, they also brought you back to him. 

Steve tilts his head as he watches you, he will find out what happened. 

“So what now?” 

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, getting more comfortable in his seat, he puts his hand on the steering wheel, running his hand through his hair, he looks at his own expression in the rearview mirror before turning to you. 

“You do know that we’re gonna be the laughing stock of the school, right?” 

You shrug, furrowing your brows you stare at him like you don’t understand the problem. You don’t care about it, you don’t care that people will laugh at you, that they will make fun of you. That is something Steve always admired about you, you just don’t give a damn about other people, you do and say whatever you want, not caring about what others will think or say. 

“I don’t want that.” 

You snort, “why would they laugh at you?” 

Steve sighs again, eyes flashing with confusion, he brings his hand up to his face, cupping his cheek, “we dated two outcasts, two…–”

“Losers? We dated two losers?” You mumble, nodding, “yes we did, they are fucking losers for what they did.” 

“Exactly! We got fucked over by losers, y/n!” 

“Oh my god, Harrington, do you seriously care about what people will have to say about it? Do you think that I give a fuck? They can laugh and talk shit, I don’t care. I literally just lost my boyfriend and my best friend!” You say angrily, throwing your hands up as frustrated tears well up in your eyes, “my best friend, Steve! She was with me since we were little! I don’t even care about what he did, I’ll move on from that but her? She was supposed to be my friend.” 

His eyes flash with guilt but also with sympathy. He lost her too, a girl he thought he would spend his life with but it must be so much harder for you. 

“Y/n..” 

“What do you want? Do you want to hurt them? Do you want us to be together so you can get back at them?” You ask, “trust me they won’t fucking care, obviously they’re like in love or something.”

You wipe your tears angrily and slump back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window, only now noticing the van parked next to you. 

“Can you just drive?”

“Yeah.. sure,” he mumbles, finally starting the car. “You think they’re in love?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, rubbing your forehead, “I’m not blind, Steve. I could see the way they looked at each other, I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it.” 

Steve swallows harshly, eyes flashing with sadness, “oh..” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

He thinks about it, is he hurt by it? A little. Is he heartbroken? Not really. He doesn’t understand it, when he first caught them, he threw up and felt like crying his eyes out but now after what happened with you, he suddenly feels… okay.

The car is filled with silence aside from the music on the radio. Too many things are running through your mind as you drive through the empty streets of Hawkins but you try to focus on something else, you try to focus on the fact that you are here with Steve. 

Things should feel awkward between you, especially after what happened at the party and here in his car but it doesn’t, if anything it feels natural, surprisingly. Not that you would ever admit that to yourself. 

Kissing him, touching him, having sex with him felt nice. Even sharing fries and spending time with him felt nice, it makes you wonder why you ever hated him in the first place, why he hated you. 

You look over at him, staring at his side profile. His chiseled jaw, the light stubble on his skin, his stupid perfect hair. Your eyes trail down to his shoulder, his arm and his hand, his veiny hands. 

You lick your lips, Steve is handsome, pretty and sexy. You had never seen his beauty before, not until tonight. Suddenly you feel yourself wanting him more. Not wanting this to be a one time thing. 

Nancy is an idiot. 

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” 

“We should be friends.” 

His eyes widen, he blinks a few times, lips parting and closing again. 

“F-Friends?” 

“Mhmm.” 

He parks his car in your driveway, staring at your house for a moment, he takes a deep breath and turns to you, “friends?” He asks, pointing his finger between you and him, “you want us to be friends?” 

“You literally wanted to fake a relationship–”

“Who said anything about fake?” 

“Oh shut up,” you roll your eyes, “you and I? We would never work.” 

“Why not?” He shrugs. 

“Uh– maybe because you hate me and I hate you?” 

“I don’t hate you,” he scoffs, “I just hate that little attitude of yours, you need to be put in your place.” 

A laugh falls from your lips, “yeah well, you’re not exactly brat tamer material, Steve.” 

He smirks, eyes twinkling, “oh so you admit that you’re a brat?” 

“No..” 

He chuckles at the frown on your face, leaning closer to you, he puts his fingers under your chin, “you know what? I can be your friend but please tell me that we can do all this again.” 

You bite your lip and look deeply into his eyes, “please.” 

His eyes light up, he brings you closer, looking down at your lips. His nose bumps against yours as he smashes his lips against yours. You respond to the kiss with desperation, throwing your arms around his neck, you bury your hand in his hair. 

He moans into the kiss, a sound that is enough to make you shiver again. 

“Do you wanna come inside?” You murmur against his lips, pecking them again. 

“What about your parents?” Steve asks as he continues to steal kisses from you. 

“We’ll have to be quiet,” you breathe. 

“Can you be quiet?” He smirks as he kisses your cheek, “wouldn’t want mommy and daddy to catch their good little girl getting ruined by Steve Harrington.” 

“Shut up, can you be quiet?” 

“Let’s find out.” 

-

Your weekends usually consist of movie nights with Jonathan, Nancy and Steve. Getting food at Benny’s diner, sleepovers with your best friend or a shopping trip to Starcourt mall. 

You expected tears of sadness and anger for this weekend but instead you got something else. 

After spending the night at your place, he took you back to his house the next day. His parents weren’t home, you got the house to yourselves. 

You took your frustrations out on one another, he fucked you on every surface of his house, making you forget about anything that ever hurt you. He marked you up, he kissed every inch of your body, leaving a trail of hickeys down to your chest, you gave him some in return, you worshiped him, making him feel something that she could never make him feel. 

Steve fucked you like he hated you, probably because he did but you didn’t mind. You felt good and he made you forget, that’s all you wanted and needed. 

You ignored Nancy’s and Jonathan’s calls, you expected them to show up at some point but it seemed as though neither of them were brave enough to actually face you, luckily. You didn’t want to see them and Steve didn’t either. 

You stayed at his house for two days. Your usual movie night was different this time, Jonathan and Nancy weren’t there and thank god they weren’t. Making out with Steve and riding him on his big sofa was better than watching some stupid movie and cuddling up to your lying, cheating, partners. 

You even made use of the polaroid that Steve bought but never really used before. 

To say that you had fun this weekend would be an understatement. 

But of course, you still hate each other. 

When you walked down the hallways at school this morning, all eyes were on you and Steve. For the first time, you walked together, side by side. 

It was no secret that you hated each other, you were often found bickering during class, at the cafeteria during lunch and in the hallways. But there you were, walking next to him in your cheerleader uniform, hair perfectly styled and makeup looking pretty on your face, a bright smile resting on your face as you looked up at King Steve, who gave you a cocky smile as he carried your books. 

The hickeys on your neck were perfectly on display as were his. 

You almost burst out laughing when people started whispering, pointing to the two of you. It was a scandal. 

You and Steve had fun with it, especially when you caught the eyes of Nancy and Jonathan, who both stared at you in confusion before they disappeared in a classroom. 

You enjoyed the attention and so did he, you were amused by it. 

You couldn’t help but wonder what they would react like if you walked hand in hand, while stealing kisses from each other. 

Maybe someday..

-

He should be paying attention to class, he really should but his mind is occupied by you. After spending a whole weekend with you, he had a sudden change of heart. His feelings had developed into something else and it confuses him. 

He should be hurt, heartbroken and in agonizing pain. He should be crying and pining after the girl that he thought he loved so much but instead his thoughts are elsewhere. 

Maybe you fucked the pain out of him. 

He sighs, looking down at his notes, he finds the page blank, he will have to steal them from Robin again. 

He looks around, eyes falling on the man that intrigues him ever since he had learned about your little affair. He tried to find out more about your past with Eddie but you always shut down, refusing to talk about it. You seemed hurt, just hearing his name made you tense up. What happened? 

You seemed less hurt by Jonathan’s actions than by Eddie’s. What did he do? 

“You’ll be working in pairs for this assignment, you can pick your partner.” 

Steve looks around, staring at people switching seats. Then his eyes fall back on Eddie, who remains in his seat with his head down. 

Grabbing his books, he gets up and walks towards him, settling in the free seat next to him, he slams the books on the table, startling the metalhead who looks up at him in confusion. 

“W-What are you doing?” He mumbles, eying Steve with shock on his face, a hint of suspicion in his eyes, like he expects to be jumped by him. 

Steve chuckles, “we gotta work in pairs,” he shrugs. 

“I always work alone.” 

“Well, today you aren’t,” Steve says. 

Eddie continues to stare at him with raised brows, looking around, he almost expects someone from the basketball team to stare at him with smirks and anticipated looks on their faces as they wait for the King to pull some sort of prank but no one even looks at him.

“Okay,” he mumbles, turning back again.

“Relax buddy, I just wanna work with you.” 

“Why?” Eddie mumbles grumpily. 

Steve shrugs, “I just do.” 

“Yeah, you expect me to believe that?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, he can’t blame Eddie, he doesn’t have it easy at school but he never did anything to him, he can be an asshole but he is no bully. 

“Whatever, man. Let’s just work on this assignment.” 

“What’s the assignment?” Eddie asks. 

Steve shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

Eddie huffs, throwing his pencil on his notebook, “aren’t you trying to graduate this year?” 

“Aren’t you trying to graduate again?” Steve counters as he slams his notebook open, forgetting about the pictures he had slipped in there earlier. It falls on Eddie’s lap, who looks down at it, eyes widening. 

Eddie takes the picture, he stares at it in surprise. His lips part in shock. It’s a picture of someone’s boobs. It’s not a challenge to figure out who’s body this is, he had definitely seen and touched it before, he is pretty sure he has a picture of them too, somewhere. 

He can’t see a face or hair in this picture, only the neck and the chest that is littered in hickeys and bite marks, a hand on the lower stomach, fingernails painted black, a pink skirt bunched up at the waist, nipple piercings. 

It’s you. 

His stomach drops, his eyes flash with anger and jealousy, he doesn’t want it to be you. 

Steve watches him in anticipation, he might have done it on purpose, wanting to find out how the metalhead would react to it. 

Eddie pushes the picture into Steve’s hand, looking up at him, “who’s that?” 

The look on Eddie’s face is almost comical to Steve, his nostrils are flared, lips set in a frown as he stares at him with jealousy in his eyes. Shouldn’t he be used to it already? You’ve been dating Jonathan. Did he ever glare at him? Did he ever stare at him with anger and jealousy on his face? Steve wishes that he would have paid attention to Eddie before.

Steve chuckles in amusement. Putting the picture back into the notebook, he turns to one of the nerds, asking about the assignment. 

“Harrington,” Eddie hisses, “who is it?” He asks, despite knowing the answer already. Everything about the picture just tells him that it is you, from the shape of your body to the pink skirt you have worn before. 

Eddie continues bugging him throughout the whole lesson, he should be focusing on the assignment but he can’t get the picture out of his mind. 

“I thought you’d be able to recognize her,” Steve says smugly, “given that you two have fucked before.”

Eddie wants to ask and say so many things but he is shocked and confused. 

Steve is dating Nancy. 

You are dating Jonathan. 

You hate Steve Harrington, at least you always said you did, was it all just a lie? 

Eddie storms out of the classroom the moment the bell rings, he rushes out into the hallway, leaving a smug looking Steve behind. 

-

Skipping the last period seemed to be the best decision to make, it’s the one class you share with both Jonathan and Nancy, you don’t feel like seeing either of them, it’s been difficult enough to avoid them all day. 

Sitting on the ground at the library, you’re flipping through the pages of some random book about nature, you tried reading something but your mind is just too occupied by other things, you can’t focus. 

“Hey.” 

You freeze at the sound of his voice. You raise your head slowly. Eddie Munson. You can’t even remember the last time you had talked to him and you wish it would have stayed that way, you don’t want to talk to him, in fact, you would even rather talk to Jonathan and Nancy, that’s how bad it is.

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?”

“No?” You snort, rolling your eyes at him, you shake your head in disbelief, looking back down at the book, you flip to the next page, pretending to read. 

He sighs, “please?” 

“Fuck off, Munson,” you mumble, “you should go before someone sees you with a popular cheerleader, don’t wanna ruin your perfect reputation.” 

Eddie scoffs, huffing in annoyance. 

“You’re still pissed about that?” 

“No, I’m just saying,” you mumble as you slam the book shut and throw it to the ground before you get up, reaching for your book, you walk into the other direction, not bothering to even look at him but Eddie has different plans. He rushes after you, moving in front of you to keep you from walking away. 

All he gets is an annoyed look before you turn the other way but he is quick to push you against the bookshelf, caging you against it. 

“Are you serious? Let me go!” You whisper, trying to push him away. 

He shakes his head stubbornly, looking into your eyes intently. 

“What the fuck do you want from me, Munson?” 

“Are you still mad at me?” 

Your eyes show nothing but anger but you pretend not to be, “no, I just don’t feel like talking to you.” 

Eddie Munson broke your heart, hurting you with harsh words and pushing you away just when you had confessed your love for him. 

“You’re fucking Harrington?” He asks, completely ignoring your answer.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say that the look in his eyes is one of jealousy and anger. They flicker down to your neck, staring at all the hickeys on your skin, recognition flashing in his dark eyes. 

“That’s what you wanna talk to me about?” You scoff. 

You really wanna keep your cool, show him that you left him behind in the past, where he belongs. You hate him. You hate him more than you hate Jonathan who cheated on you, something that you thought would rip your heart out, surprisingly it didn’t but maybe that’s because Eddie had done it for him long before. 

What does he even want from you? He hasn’t spoken to you since the night he left you standing in the rain. He was the reason you started dating Jonathan in the first place, you found comfort in him when he had found you crying behind the school weeks after your fallout with Eddie, he comforted you, placed his jacket around your shoulders and asked if you wanted to listen to a tape he had just made. 

Jonathan was sweet, he loved music and driving around, taking you to the movies. He did what Eddie used to do, maybe that’s why you liked him so much. He filled the hole that he had left behind. 

Something about Eddie has changed, not only do you see a new tattoo peeking out of his shirt, his hair also got longer, he uses a different cologne now, he probably stopped using Wayne’s cologne or maybe Wayne changed his and Eddie is still stealing it. New pins are on his vest and he seems more mature. You know that he is still the same dork as before, still joking around with his friends like a young and careless teen, he still jumps on tables and holds speeches knowing that he will get shit for it afterwards but there is something in his eyes that had changed. A flicker of sadness and emptiness that wasn’t there before. 

You haven’t been this close to him since the last year and you hate yourself for admitting that you miss him. 

You always missed him. You used to feel awful for still thinking about him when Jonathan kissed you, when he touched you or even when he just held your hand, you always thought about him. The last weekend was the first time that you haven’t thought about him, not even a single moment. 

Jonathan couldn’t make you forget but Steve did. 

“You’re dating Byers,” he mumbles, “and you’re fucking your best friend’s boyfriend?” 

So, word hasn’t gotten around yet? You’re surprised, considering you told Heather about it, not that she’s much on gossip but she tends to have a loose mouth when she’s drunk. 

“And so what if I do?” You ask, tilting your head. You don’t miss the look in his eyes when he stares at your lips for a moment. 

“That’s not you, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart, god you want to rip your hair out. 

“And what do you know about me?” You ask, clenching your jaw angrily. 

He grimaces at your question, stepping even closer to you, “I know everything about you.” 

“No, you don’t,” you shake your head, “now back off.” 

Eddie hesitates, what reason would he have to talk to you? What right does he have to ask you any questions? He was the one who pushed you out of his life, he was the one who rejected you, he was the one who didn’t want you. What a lie. God, you will never know how much he really wanted you, how much he still wants you.

He felt like a goddamn fool when he saw you with Jonathan Byers, knowing that he could’ve been the one by your side, if he wasn’t so scared. 

He steps away and drops his arm to his sides, eyes flashing with sadness as you quickly pull away from him. His gaze follows you.

You halt in your tracks, taking a deep breath before you whirl around to face him again. You cannot stand him and his stupid puppy eyes. He looks at you as though you were the one who hurt him. 

“To answer your question, no, I’m not with Jonathan anymore and I didn’t fuck my best friend’s boyfriend, she fucked mine. Steve caught them and the next day I caught them as well.” 

Eddie’s eyes widen, he looks shocked and confused. 

“W-What?” He mumbles in disbelief, “shit, sweetheart. I’m sorry–”

“Save it, Munson,” you scoff, looking away from him as your eyes well up with angry tears. 

“Who would cheat on you..” 

What is that supposed to mean? Wasn’t he the one who made you feel like you weren’t enough for him? 

“Yeah and who would ever hurt me?” You ask as you plaster a smile on your face. The guilty look on his face makes you mad. “Whatever, I seem to be going for the wrong guys all the time.” 

He whispers your name. 

“But that’s fine, I guess I learnt my lesson,” you shrugs, “I should look for ones that are just as stuck up and boring as me, huh?” 

He looks down, feeling ashamed of the words he used to hurt you. 

You leave after a moment, storming out of the library. You want to leave him behind just like you want to leave Nancy and Jonathan behind.

But it turns out to be a challenge. You and Steve continue your newly found friendship. Weeks go by and after a few confrontations with your ex partners, they finally leave you alone. You no longer want to resume your friendship with Nancy, she cried and apologized to you, telling you that she didn’t want to lose you but she didn’t do much to prove it, especially when she just started dating your ex boyfriend. 

Moving on will never be easy but you have him now. You and Steve still fight, you still use every opportunity to piss him off and in return, he does the same. You love making each other mad, you love heated arguments, ones that lead to sex. 

You sneak out of class just to make out with him in the bathroom. Every time he throws you a note, you can feel his excited eyes on you but also the one’s of Eddie, who seemed to be interested to make a comeback in your life.

Not that you will ever let him. 

You are focused on other things. Cheer practice, studying, girls nights with friends from the cheer squad and most importantly spending time with King Steve.

You found comfort in each other, maybe you were just no good alone but you like being around him. What starts off with a weird friendship with your enemy ends up developing into something bigger. A few months back you couldn’t even stand being around each other for longer than 10 minutes, now you can’t be without each other. Steve is surprisingly a really clingy guy and you don’t mind it. 

After using your parents money to book a vacation, you spend your spring break on the east coast, using fake IDs to buy drinks and using Mr. Harrington’s credit card to rent a yacht. You both have wealthy parents, might as well use their money to have fun. 

When Steve had suggested going on that trip, you didn’t expect to come back as his girlfriend but you did and for some insane reason, you love it. 

A part of you still struggles to trust his intentions but you still agreed on becoming his. 

What’s more insane is the fact that Steve had somehow befriended Eddie. Out of all people he could’ve started a friendship with, it of course had to be the guy that broke your heart. Apparently they had worked on an assignment together and ‘hit it off’. You should be pissed but he doesn’t really know what happened with you and him and you cannot blame him for liking him, Eddie is.. amazing. And Steve deserves to have more friends. 

After cutting off Tommy a while back, Steve only really had Nancy, Jonathan and well you. Robin Buckley was one of his friends as well but they only ever hung out at work together, only having brief conversations at school. 

For two months, he followed you around like a lost puppy after the breakup with Nancy. Spending lunch with you and your cheer squad instead of hanging out with the guys from the basketball team, why? You will never know, maybe it had something to do with his dislike for Jason Carver or Billy Hargrove but Steve preferred to stick to your side, that is until he and Eddie became friends.

You are not sure which one of them is playing a game though, is it Eddie who uses your boyfriend to sneak his way back into your life? Or is it your boyfriend himself, who is trying to test you to see if there are any remaining feelings left for his new friend?

You did tell him a little about your past but you didn’t want to give away too much, not wanting to admit that he hurt you as much as he did. Steve isn’t stupid though, it wasn’t difficult for him to figure out that what you felt for Eddie was deeper than you wanted to admit. 

It also really wasn’t a challenge to figure out that you started dating Jonathan in hopes that he could be like him. 

Maybe, he should feel insecure, feel scared and worried that he might lose you to another man just like he lost Nancy but your feelings for him are genuine, even when your mind keeps taking you back to the other man. He can see it in your eyes, though you still act stubborn at times and pretend that he doesn’t mean that much to you, he knows it’s all just an act. 

You love Steve in a way Nancy couldn’t and he loves you in a way Jonathan couldn’t. 

But there is also someone else that loves you and despite his jealous nature, Steve doesn’t mind it, as odd as it is. 

The more time he spends with him, the more he finds a liking towards Eddie, much to your demise. You don’t mind it, you just hate being around him. 

It’s been easy to ignore him and his puppy dog eyes at first but once he realized that he is not getting any of your attention, he suddenly became a menace. He went from being apologetic to annoying, real quick. 

He uses every opportunity to tease you, making sly comments and trying to flirt with you and Steve doesn’t even seem to mind, if anything, he finds it amusing. Watching his new friend getting on your nerves and getting the treatment from you that only he usually gets. 

You should be mad at Steve for letting Eddie treat you like this but you can’t, not when you like it deep down. 

Eddie stole the spot that used to belong to Steve, now he is your annoying 'enemy'. 

Wherever Steve goes, Eddie goes. Just like tonight. 

A date night with your boyfriend turns into one with Eddie as well. 

Sitting on Steve’s lap, you play with his hair, occasionally turning to look at the other man in the room, who smokes his blunt and drinks his beer as he talks to Steve about his stupid band that you used to love. 

Steve’s large hand is resting on your hip, playing with the soft material of your skirt as he nods along to Eddie’s words. 

“Babe,” you cut Eddie off, not even sparing him a glance as you look at your boyfriend, “are you ever gonna order that pizza?” You ask, batting your eyelashes at him, “I’m getting hungry and bored.” 

Steve sighs, “don’t be rude, he was talking.” 

“Who?” You feign, giving him a confused look. Smiling in satisfaction when you hear Eddie mumbling something under his breath. 

You smile at him as you lean in to kiss his neck. He takes in a sharp breath, hand gripping your hip tighter causing your skirt to ride up a little. He can’t help but look over at Eddie to see his reaction, just as expected, Eddie is staring at you with such intensity in his eyes that it makes Steve shiver. 

“Baby,” he warns but you don’t listen. You never do. 

Eddie is both jealous and angry, though he admires the view, staring at your exposed skin as Steve touches your hip. 

Steve raises his eyebrows, opening his mouth to speak but before he can even form a word, you smash your lips against his, kissing him roughly. 

His eyes widen in surprise but he can’t even stop the moan from falling. You throw your leg over his lap and straddle him, placing your hands on his neck and deepen the kiss as your tongue meets his. 

Eddie swallows harshly, placing his blunt down, he tightens his grip on the bottle. His jaw clenches and his eyes flash with anger and jealousy. You are doing this on purpose, to taunt him. 

He likes Steve but right now, he hates him for being able to touch and kiss you like this, wishing it was him instead. He leans back against the sofa, eyes trailing down to your ass that Steve is squeezing roughly as he starts making out with you. Your skirt rides up further, exposing the black thong that you’re wearing. You’re rolling your hips, grinding against your boyfriend as you moan into his mouth. 

Eddie clenches his hand into a fist, tensing up, he shifts around, uncomfortably, your moans and whimpers sounding like music to his ears. His breath hitches in his throat when you whisper a small ‘please’. 

He would love nothing more than to be in Steve’s place right now. To hold you and kiss you. 

Steve pulls away with a groan, “behave yourself.” 

A giggle leaves your lips and after pecking his lips one more time, you pull away and settle back on the couch, smirking at the bulge in your boyfriend’s jeans. 

He blushes, running his fingers through his hair, he gets up, trying to hide the obvious tent in his pants, “I’m gonna order the pizza,” he mumbles as he rushes out of the living room without looking at Eddie. 

You look at the tv for a moment before your eyes find Eddie’s. He is glaring at you. You smile in satisfaction, raising your hand, you look at your freshly manicured fingernails as you begin to hum some song. 

Eddie is seething, this is not the first time you had kissed Steve in front of him but usually it was nothing more than a peck. 

He scoffs as he raises the bottle to his lips. Right now, he can’t stand you. 

He can’t stand the way you look so pretty, the way you sit there looking so innocent after what you just did. He hates the way the room smells like your sweet perfume despite the lingering smoke in the air. He hates the way you hate him. 

He reaches for the blunt, placing it between his lips, he lights it up with the lighter that Steve threw on the table earlier. 

You look at him, tilting your head, “what’s wrong?” You ask him sweetly.

He screws up his face, shrugging, “nothing.” 

You get up and his eyes widen when you walk towards him. He stares at the way your skirt hugs your body perfectly, the way your top slides up your stomach a little, exposing some of your skin, you’re not wearing a bra, he can see your nipple piercings. You lick your puffy lips and lean down in front of him, placing your hand on his knee, you reach for the blunt between his lips. 

He gulps, eyes growing wider and breath hitching in his throat. He licks his lips, staring into your eyes as you inhale the smoke. 

Eddie can’t even help it, he leans closer to you, placing his hand over yours, his fingertips trace your skin. 

You look down for a second, staring at his hand and at his rings, your gaze softens for a moment and then you look back into his eyes. 

He whispers your name, you blink, eyes falling down to his lips. 

But it all just lasts for a second before you place the blunt back between his lips and walk away from him. Sitting back down on the sofa and looking away with a clenched jaw. 

“Sweetheart–”

“Don’t.” 

Steve walks back into the room, sensing the tension right away. He looks between the two of you, noticing the anger in your eyes and the longing in his. 

He sighs, trying to lighten the mood, he smiles at you, “pizza is on the way,” he says as he settles back next to you, “you wanna watch Halloween now?” 

“Sure..”

-

The graduation party is finally over, you no longer have to listen to the awful pop music, red solo cups are all over the place. Steve’s house is a mess. You’re both lucky that his parents aren’t home until the end of next week. 

The night started off well, you got ready in his bathroom, had a few drinks before the party even started and made out with him on one of the pool loungers before the guest started coming in. 

Now you’re seething, rolling your eyes at him and scoffing at whatever he is saying as you’re cleaning up the mess. It’s silly, you have to admit and you know you’re acting like a brat for no reason but getting the piss out of him will just always be your thing. 

You’re proud of him, you really are. He made it, he graduated, got his diploma and he is free to do whatever he wants now. He doesn’t have to go back to high school, he doesn’t have to see Nancy or Jonathan again. You’re just so scared that he will leave you behind, walk away from you and pretend like you were never a part of his life. 

Maybe you are overthinking it, maybe you are just hurt from the men before or maybe you are simply broken. 

But right now, you’re angry, especially after seeing one of the girls trying to flirt with him. He didn’t pay her any mind, he didn’t even smile at her or react to the way she was eying him up and down, he politely rejected her and pushed her hand off of his arm and yet it pissed you off, why did he let her get this close in the first place? 

“Asshole.” 

“Excuse me?” Steve scoffs as he watches you rush past him. 

“You heard me!” You snap at him as you slam the door open and walk towards the counter, slamming your red solo cups down, you turn around and open the fridge, getting yourself a cold coke. 

“Why am I an asshole?” He asks with a confused and angry face, closing the door to the luckily empty kitchen. 

“You let that bitch touch you!” You yell as you close the fridge, glaring at your boyfriend. 

Steve knows that this isn’t the only thing that caused this sudden outburst, you have been acting weird and sensitive for the past few weeks. 

“Honey,” he mumbles as he takes a deep breath, putting his hands together he walks towards you, “I pushed her hand off, I didn’t even talk to her!” 

You clench your jaw, tearing your gaze away from him, you sigh angrily, “yes, you did.” 

Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. He knows that you won’t just drop it, you’re gonna mop around and continue trying to get on his nerves. 

“Jesus, I didn’t.”

You stare at him with fire in your eyes. Oh, you’re mad, mad. He knows that there is more behind your anger, it’s not just about that girl, you’re not even the jealous type or maybe you are, maybe you were just too good at hiding it before. 

Steve shakes his head, walking towards you, he tries to reach out for you but you push his hands away, “just go to your new girlfriend, you seemed to like staring at her fucking tits.”

You both know that he wasn’t staring at her tits, in fact, he wasn’t staring at her at all. He looked uncomfortable and glanced at you, reaching for your hand, he pulled you in and placed his hand on the small of your back, you were there the whole time. He wasn’t staring, he wasn’t flirting, he wasn’t doing anything. 

“Jesus christ,” he sighs in annoyance, rolling his eyes, “are you really starting this again?” 

“Starting what?” You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. 

Steve’s eyes fall to your chest, staring at your tits. 

“Starting some stupid fight just so I will fuck your brains out.” 

You tilt your head, scoffing, “why would I want you to fuck me?” You ask him, as though he isn’t your boyfriend, as though you don’t beg for his touches, as though you aren’t obsessed with him. 

“Oh, so you’re gonna act like you’re not obsessed with me?” 

You scoff, giving him a disapproving look, “trust me, I’m not obsessed with you.” 

He rolls his eyes at your words, stepping closer to you, “you’re such a brat,” he says as he places his hands on his hips, looking up at the ceiling. 

“You’re the brat, Harrington.” 

He looks back down at you with darkened eyes. The pout on your face is cute but the mischief in your eyes irritates him. 

“What do you want, honey?” 

You shrug, biting your lip, you eye him up and down. Grabbing him by his belt, you pull him closer to you. Instantly, his hands reach for your waist and he pulls you flush against him. Standing on your tippy toes, you lean in and give him a kiss, “I want you to stop being a dick.” 

He looks into your eyes and raises his brows, he grabs your jaw, “oh, I’m a dick now?” 

“Mhmm, yes you are,” you nod, “you’re a dick, Steve Harrington.” 

“And you’re kind of a bitch, honey.” 

“No, I’m not. You’re just a real asshole.” 

“You always need the last word, don’t you?” 

You nod, “you know me.” 

He shakes his head, tracing your bottom lip, he looks deeply into your eyes, “tell me, what’s your actual problem? Be honest with me.” 

You hesitate. You’re scared of something, he can see it in your eyes. That fear has been there for some weeks now. 

Your relationship was just two months old, things were still new for the two of you. You went from disliking each other to loving each other, sure, it was weird for you but not for him. Once he touched you for the first time, he easily grew addicted to you and he found himself wondering why he never went after you instead of Nancy, in the first place. 

“You’re leaving me,” you say with fear in your eyes and anger in your voice. 

He frowns at your words, staring at you in confusion, “huh?” 

“You’re leaving me,” you repeat yourself as you cross your arms over your chest again, pouting at him like a pissed off brat, “you’re leaving me alone with all these assholes.” 

Just as you and Steve finally found your way to each other, his time at school is over while you stay for one more year, you are not ready to let him go. 

“Oh,” he mumbles, finally understanding what you are talking about, he rolls his eyes at your words and sighs, “I’m not leaving you, honey. I only graduated and the last time I checked, you’re the one who’s leaving me next year, while you go off to college, I’ll stay here and wait for you.”

You squint your eyes at him, “are you?” You counter, tilting your head up, “are you waiting for me or are you gonna find someone else to fuck?” 

He scoffs at you, glaring into your eyes, “fuck? Is that all we’re doing here? Fucking?” 

You shrug. Maybe. The anxiety of him wanting to do this just to get back at her still lingers. 

“Oh my god,” he murmurs, staring at you in disbelief, “baby, you’re my girl. I want you, no one else.” 

Your heart flutters at his words, taking the tension off your shoulders a little but you aren’t done yet. 

“What about Nancy? Do you still want her?” 

He doesn’t understand where this is all coming from, he shakes his head, eyes widening, “no!” He cups your cheeks, “I don’t! Why would I still want her? I want you, only you even though you’re a fucking brat and you get on my nerves all the damn time but fuck, you’re it for me.” 

If your past selves could see the two of you now, they would be mortified. 

You believe him, you really do. You want to kiss him and hug him, lay your head on his chest and apologize but still, you roll your eyes and look away. 

You look away from his hazel eyes, staring at your manicured nails, you shrug, a small sigh leaving your lips. 

Steve’s shoulders slump, he loves you but you are so irritating sometimes. 

“Trouble in paradise?” 

Looking over Steve’s shoulder, you see Eddie standing there with a smug look on his face. He walks towards you, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

You drop your arms to your sides and step away from your boyfriend, sighing in annoyance. 

Right, you forgot that your boyfriend’s boyfriend is still here. 

Steve looks intrigued, he wants to see what will happen if Eddie takes his teasing a little further. 

You cross your arms over your chest and turn away from both men but Eddie grabs your arm, holding you back, he steps in front of you, “where are you going, sweetheart?” He asks, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger. 

You furrow your brows, glaring at him, “away from you.” 

He coos at you, pouting at your words, “I see, nothing changed. You’re still a fucking brat.” 

You scoff at his words, slapping his hand off of you, you clench your jaw in anger. How dare he touch you? 

His dark eyes stare into yours, he leans closer, eying your lips for a moment, “poor King Steve doesn’t know how to handle you, huh? He doesn’t know how to put you in your place?” He asks as he reaches his hand out to touch your face, caressing your cheek softly. “He can’t do it like I can, right?” 

You blink as you stare into his eyes, shivering at the feeling of his touch and at the sound of his voice. Your knees grow a little weak and you hate the way your stomach flutters at his words. Your boyfriend is standing there, right behind you, watching the scene unfold. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

You scoff, rolling your eyes, you turn away from him as you start blushing because of him, “whatever.” 

Steve gasps, eyes widening in disbelief. That’s all you have to say? Whatever? You sure have a lot to say to him whenever you both bicker. 

Eddie chuckles as he eyes you up and down, “you wanna be put in your place, huh?” 

Eddie wouldn’t say all this to you if there wasn’t so much tension already, the past few weeks have led up to this exact moment. 

You don’t say anything, just growing more flustered, not looking into Eddie’s or Steve’s eyes. 

Eddie’s smirk widens, he looks over your shoulder, staring at Steve who shakes his head as a small chuckle falls from his lips. 

“Do it.” 

Your lips part and your eyes widen, you turn around, staring at your boyfriend in shock. 

“Put her in her place,” he murmurs as he reaches for your waist, pulling you into him, “tame the fucking brat.” 

You gasp at his words, “S-Steve?” 

He chuckles, grasping your face in his large hands, he pulls you closer to kiss your lips, “that’s what you want, right?” 

You gulp nervously, blinking. You hesitate and take a deep breath. 

“N-No..”

He smirks, looking into your lust filled eyes, “come on, don’t lie to me.”

He pulls you tighter against him, squeezing your waist as he steals another soft kiss from you, “it’s okay, it’s just Eddie.” 

Eddie, the only man he is willing to share you with. 

You can always say no, he makes sure you know that. You can back down but do you want to? 

You tear your eyes away from your boyfriend and turn around to face the man you have been avoiding, your eyes lock with his beautiful ones. 

No, you don’t want to back down. 

Eddie already knows your answer before even asking that question but he grabs your hand and pulls you closer, “do you want it?” he whispers as he brings his hand up to your face, grabbing your chin. 

“Yes.” It comes out as a mere whisper, a nervous one. 

Eddie smirks and Steve does too but you can’t see him. The man in front of you looks like he had just won the lottery, his eyes light up and he looks happier than he has ever felt before. He grabs your waist and without wasting another moment, he pulls you flush against him and slams his lips against yours. 

For the first time in over a year, you finally feel his touch again, his kiss. 

He is desperate in the way he kisses you, not caring about your boyfriend who watches it all unfold with awe in his eyes, he doesn’t care about anything but you. He finally has you back in his arms, even if it’s just for this moment. His hands are so delicate on your skin, his lips move so roughly against yours, he savors every second in which you kiss him back. 

He doesn’t know whether to smile or to cry but he leaves the latter for when this night is over, now he enjoys it. 

A moan, a whine and a desperate whimper from you, and both men that you have wrapped around your finger are rock hard. Eddie deepens the kiss, his tongue meets yours and he groans in pleasure when you bury your hands in his hair, tugging at his dark curls. 

God, he missed you so much. His heart, his life felt so empty without you. He wants to kiss you softly, he wants to make love to you and show you how much he misses you but he can’t. You are not his, you will never be his and even when Steve is okay with this, he knows that it’s only just a one time thing, it’s just for sex, for rough sex. 

Your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, forcing you to break the kiss with Eddie, you whine at that action, chasing after his lips. He chuckles darkly, leaning down, he presses his lips against your shoulder, kissing you and nipping at your skin as he pulls the strap of your top down, “you want him, honey?” 

Your eyelashes flutter, your lips part and you stare into Eddie’s eyes, watching the way he looks at you with hunger in his eyes, the way he did before but there is more now, something you can’t or don’t want to read because it will make you sad. 

Steve’s lips are soft, making your heart and stomach flutter, “it’s okay, you can have him if you want,” he murmurs, “I don’t mind.” 

You have questions, so many of them but you don’t bother to speak them out now, instead you find yourself nodding, “I want you both.”

Eddie smirks, eyes lighting up. 

“Oh yeah?” Steve whispers, “you want him to fuck the brat out of you, baby?” 

“Mhmm.” 

Steve leads you and Eddie upstairs and into his room, he holds your hand while you hold Eddie’s, looking back at him to catch him staring at your ass, watching your skirt move back and forth as you walk up the stairs. He licks his lips before he raises his head to look into your eyes. 

The moment you step into your boyfriend’s room, you suddenly feel nervous but also intrigued. Steve locks the door and then he walks you over to his bed, pushing you down, he grabs your chin and caresses your cheek, smirking at you and leaning down to peck your lips before he steps away, “you’re awfully quiet, honey. What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?” 

Rolling your eyes at him, you scoff.

Steve chuckles, shaking his head, “Munson, come here.” 

Eddie walks over to him, glancing at him, Steve smirks, “she’s all yours.” 

You stare at your boyfriend, almost in shock. There have been moments where he got jealous whenever men just looked at you, here he is, giving you away to his friend like it means nothing to him. Which, you don’t actually mind because it’s Eddie. Yet, you glare at him. 

“What’s wrong?” He laughs, “you wanted to be tamed and I’m not exactly brat tamer material, isn’t that what you said?” 

Eddie looks amused by Steve’s words, he chuckles to himself as he looks at you. 

“And don’t act like you don’t think about him, we both know you do,” Steve murmurs as he sits down beside you, bringing his hand up to your face, he cradles your cheek, you still glare at him just like before but now you look flustered, clearly not wanting Eddie to know that you still think about him, “look at him.” 

You blink, shaking your head a little.

Steve’s hazel eyes flicker with mischief, lips curling up into a smirk, “you don’t want him to know that you still think about him?” 

“Steve.” 

He ignores you, “you don’t want him to know that you dream of him?” He asks as he kisses your cheek softly before he turns your head towards Eddie, forcing you to look at him, “I heard you whispering his name the other night, you know?” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise. 

You grow flustered, both men notice the way you squeeze your thighs together. 

“Is that so, sweetheart?” Eddie smirks as he steps towards you. 

You look at him through your lashes, ignoring the way he makes you feel just by looking at you with his hungry eyes. 

Steve lets go of you as Eddie places his fingers under your chin, “you dream about me, huh?” 

You scoff and roll your eyes, “you wish,” you mumble in annoyance, “I haven’t thought about you in a long time.” 

So you still wanna act like you hate him? Eddie shakes his head, laughing, “a few days is what you call a long time?” 

“Not a few days, a whole year.” 

He raises his brows, “a whole year, huh?” He asks in amusement, “that’s when you started dating Byers.” 

You press your lips together, frowning at him and at your boyfriend who chuckles yet again. 

“He didn’t satisfy you enough? You still thought about me?” 

“Shut up,” you mumble as you raise your hand and slap his hand away. 

His eyes darken and he looks at you in a way that would leave your past self shivering but you are not the girl that you used to be, you are not the fool that was once in love with him, at least that’s what you are telling yourself. 

“Are you gonna fuck me or what?” 

“You’re a depraved little slut, you know that right?” 

You shrug, licking your lips as you feel yourself getting wet at his words. 

“You’re sitting here next to your boyfriend, asking another man to fuck you,” Eddie smirks. 

“It was his idea,” you shrug, ignoring Steve’s chuckle, “maybe he wants you to fuck him too, maybe he’s a depraved slut as well, just like you Eddie.” 

Eddie raises his brows, tilting his head at you as he kneels down in front of you, his gentle hands grasping your ankles, he takes your shoes off slowly. 

“Me?” 

“Yeah,” you breathe, “I wasn’t enough for you, you wanted to fuck other girls, not just one other girl, you wanted all of them, didn’t you? That’s why you didn’t want me anymore. So, who are you calling a depraved slut? You are the biggest of them all.” 

Steve glances at Eddie, noticing the regret in his eyes. 

Eddie didn’t want anyone else but you, he didn’t want any other girl, he just wanted you. The things he said to you were nothing but lies, to make you leave, for your own sake. 

The tone in your voice is masked with anger but the pain is still lingering. 

“You’re an asshole,” you say as you look deeply into his eyes, “I hate you.”

Eddie clenches his jaw, maybe his heart would hurt if he didn’t see the softness in your eyes, you don’t hate him. 

“And you’re a fucking brat. A very mean brat.” 

He gets back up after taking your shoes off, he puts his hand around your throat, watching the way your eyes widen and flash with lust, you always loved this. 

“I bet you’ve been acting like this on purpose, huh? You wanted him to put you in your place?” 

You blink, breathing faster as you look up at Eddie, well aware that Steve is staring at you with a smirk on his face. 

“Answer me,” Eddie orders. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

“Yes, what?” 

“I’ve been doing it on purpose,” you admit, your cheeks growing hot at your own words, “I wanted him to put me in my place.” 

Steve gapes at you, you never ever admit anything like this to him, you never give in, you never let him hear what he wants to hear. You only ever stop acting like a brat after he makes you cum a few times. 

You bite your lip, eyes raking over Eddie’s arm, the bracelet around his wrist, the tattoos on his arm, his shoulders that got broader. His hand around your neck, he pulls you up, forcing you to stand in front of him. 

He brings you closer until his nose bumps against yours, “poor Steve doesn’t know how to tame the brat, huh?” He whispers against your lips as his eyes remain locked with yours, “it’s okay, that’s what you have me for.” 

He kisses you softly, one last time before he rips your top off, throwing it on the ground along with your bra, taking a moment to admire your naked chest, touching your boobs and giving them both a squeeze before he turns you around and shoves you down on Steve’s bed, in front of him. 

A whimper leaves your mouth when Eddie reaches for your hips and pulls your ass up, using both hands to tear the skirt into shreds, he rips it off and throws it on the ground. 

Steve’s eyes widen in surprise as do yours, you gasp, calling his name loudly. 

“What?” Eddie chuckles, “your rich boyfriend can buy you ten more of those, right?” He asks before his palm meets your ass roughly, a loud smack! echoing through the room, followed by a whiny moan. 

Steve’s eyes darken and he looks down at you to make sure that you’re okay, pushing your hair out of your face, he caresses your cheek. 

“Don’t worry, Harrington. She loves it even rougher,” Eddie murmurs as he smacks your other asscheek, “isn’t that right, sweetheart?” 

You moan, nodding desperately as you bite your lip. 

He chuckles as he watches you arching your back, your light pink thong is soaked already and Eddie can’t help but moan at the sight of it, he teases you, bringing his fingers up to your pussy, “who are you so wet for? Me or Steve?” 

Your boyfriend touches your bottom lip with his thumb, smirking when you look at him with pleading eyes. 

You hear Eddie shuffling around behind you, taking his belt off, you already know what he’s about to do and it only makes you feel more desperate. 

“Me or Steve?” He asks again, with more anger in his voice.

“Answer him, honey.” 

You don’t. 

You want him to take it further. 

Suddenly you jolt forward and a cry falls from your lips as you feel the leather smacking against your ass, tears well up in your eyes. 

“Dude!” 

Eddie chuckles at the shocked and angry look on Steve’s face, his body tenses up and he looks down at you with worry in his eyes. 

“M-More..” 

Steve’s eyes widen, shock ripples through him. He always knew that you were kinky, that you like it rough but not this rough. 

“Please.” 

“You see that, Steve?” Eddie murmurs as he raises his hand, using the belt to spank you again. The bulge in his pants is growing, his dick twitches at the sound of your moan, at the sight of your half naked body, “she loves it.” 

“You’re so fucking dirty, honey.” 

“Yes, she is,” Eddie groans. 

He spanks you, again and again. And even after he is done, you are still begging for more, despite knowing that your ass will hurt. Steve watches in awe and disbelief, no snarky words or comments leave your mouth, just desperate moans and whimpers. 

He swallows, your hand resting on his knee, squeezing it tightly as Eddie takes your ruined panties off and throws them at him, chuckling when he catches them and sniffs at them. 

“Perv,” you mumble as you look up at Steve with a smirk on your face. 

Eddie reaches for your waist, grabbing you tightly as he manhandles you on your back, he catches the surprised look on your face. Eddie takes his shirt off and throws it to the ground. 

For a moment, he lets himself admire you. It’s been too long since he had seen you like this. Your bare body, your soft skin, your pretty hair laying on your naked shoulders, your eyes looking into his with desperation, with a softened gaze he hasn’t seen in so long. 

You eye him up and down, you want him just like he wants you. You squeeze your thighs together, sighing when Steve starts playing with your hair, “you look so beautiful, honey.” 

“Yes you do,” Eddie whispers, he leans over you, taking the black scrunchie off of your wrist, he uses it to tie his hair back, “you are the prettiest girl.” 

Your heart flutters but at the same time, it hurts. 

You roll your eyes at his words, clearly not believing a word he says. 

“Shut up, Eddie.” 

Steve chuckles at your words, while Eddie scoffs, shaking his head as he kneels down in front of the bed, he grabs you, pulling you closer, harshly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and begins to nip at your inner thighs roughly, kissing and biting your skin before he finally tastes you again. 

His eyes flutter closed and he moans against you as he grabs your hips tighter than before, slipping his tongue into your wet pussy. 

You moan loudly, reaching into his hair, you pull at it.

“F-Fuck!” 

Eddie starts to eat you out, more intensely, more desperately than ever before. He needs you, he needs to feel you in every way possible. He grabs your ass harshly, squeezing your sensitive skin as he devours you. 

You arch your back in pleasure, feeling his tongue plunging deeper inside of you. You look down at him, eyes locking with his, you allow yourself to look at him, only for one moment before your eyes roll back and you shut them. 

You moan even louder than before when you feel Steve’s lips on your neck, his hands on your boobs, squeezing and grabbing them roughly as his fingers toy with your pierced nipples. 

Eddie’s nose bumps against your clit as he shakes his head against you, licking and eating you out like a man starved. He shows you how desperate he is to touch you again. 

So much pleasure runs through your body, the feeling is euphoric. 

“Feeling good, honey?” 

“Mhmm, so good,” you whimper. 

Steve smirks, he leans down to kiss your lips as he twists and tugs your nipple. You shut your thighs, caging Eddie in and he only moans in response. He licks a stripe up your pussy and begins to flick his tongue on your clit as he pushes a finger inside of you. 

“I missed your sweet pussy, baby.” 

Not wanting to hear any of his praises, you pull his hair harsher than before as you make out with Steve. 

Eddie groans, using his free hand to push your hand out of his hair, he slams it against the mattress and intertwines his fingers with yours, holding it against the bed. 

That is too intimate for you, you don’t hold hands with people you don’t love, Eddie doesn’t love you. 

“You taste so good,” he murmurs against you, kissing your clit teasingly, he glances at you, watching the way your chest rises up and down heavily, your free hand in your boyfriend's hair as you kiss him. 

His chest is filled with jealousy, you’re gentle with him, you’re soft with Steve, loving. That’s something he will never get again and it breaks his heart. 

Eddie doesn’t stop after making you cum, he only keeps going. Fucking you with his fingers, keeping the rings on because he knows how much you used to love it. He covers your thighs in hickeys, smacking your soaked cunt when you call him names. Eddie is rough with you, he devours you for both yours and his pleasure and he enjoys knowing that not even Steve can make you feel like this. 

He loves knowing that he watches you two, that he sees the way you yearn for him, the way you moan for him. 

Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. Your voice sounds like music to his ears, it makes his heart flutter in his chest. 

He only stops when he feels like he might cum before he even gets to be inside of you. 

He pulls away and admires the view, watching the way you are shaking, the way your cunt flutters, glistening from your juices and his spit. Your thighs are covered in hickeys, fingerprints on your hips. 

Steve is being too soft with you, he caresses your cheek and whispers praises into your ear, as though he wasn’t the one suggesting this. Growing annoyed with the sight of it, he finally takes the rest of his clothes off and flips you over on your stomach again. 

“Sit your ass down, Harrington,” Eddie orders, gesturing to the chair in the corner, “watch and learn.” 

Steve raises his brows in surprise, his cheeks grow red and it definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him or you. You look smug and it only makes Steve blush harder, he rolls his eyes at you as he does what the other man told him to do. 

You lick your lips, eying the bulge in Steve’s pants, “take your cock out, Stevie,” you whine, “please.” 

Eddie chuckles behind you, you feel the bed dip under you. You swallow nervously, stomach growing tighter at the feeling of his hands on your hips, “listen to your girl, Steve.” 

Steve blinks, nodding at his words, “f-fuck.. yeah, yeah..” He stammers, unbuckling his belt hastily, he pushes his pants out just enough to take his dick out. 

You moan while Eddie’s eyes widen at the sight of Steve’s dick, “holy shit, man.” 

Your boyfriend looks smug, smirking as he looks at the two of you. 

“Yeah, he is so much bigger than you, Eddie,” you tease, looking over your shoulder with a smirk on your face, “makes me feel better too.” 

He glares, holding your hips tighter, “oh yeah?” He murmurs as he takes his hard cock and slips it through your wet folds until it touches your sensitive clit. 

“Ah– shit,” you whimper. 

“Touch yourself, Steve. Look at her, watch how I ruin your pretty little girlfriend, I’m gonna make her mine again.” 

You shake your head in response, wanting to protest but only whimpers leave your mouth when he pushes inside of you, splitting you open. You’re too sensitive, too overwhelmed, too weak already. Unable to hold yourself up, you fall down against the pillows. 

“Forget it,” Steve growls as he fists his cock, keeping his eyes on you, “she’s mine forever.” 

Eddie chuckles darkly, watching how you struggle to hold yourself up, you whine and moan. 

“We’ll see.” 

He pushes in deeper, placing both hands on your asscheeks, he spreads them, watching how your wet pussy takes his cock. He moans loudly, eyes fluttering closed, he can’t even help but grin when he feels your walls clenching around him at the sound of his moans. 

“E-Eddie,” you whine into the pillow, gripping the bed sheets tightly, “I-I… please.” 

He dreamed of this moment, he thought about you day and night while you were apart, he missed this, he missed the feeling of being inside you, of feeling your warm pussy around him, of hearing your moans, he just missed you so much. 

“Please what?” 

You are drooling all over the pillow, your eyes well up with tears and you can’t stop the whines and moans from escaping. 

“Please move, please sir.” 

“Good girl,” Eddie grunts as he squeezes your ass, he pulls out completely before he slams back inside of you roughly with a loud moan. 

“Ah– f-fuck.. your cock feels so good,” you cry out. 

“Oh yeah?” He breathes as he reaches for your hair, tugging at it to raise your head up to make you look at him. Eddie starts thrusting, rougher and rougher. “Look at him, baby.” 

Steve jerks off and fuck, he looks so good. He moans loudly, biting his lip as he moves his fist faster.

“Your pussy feels so perfect, sweetheart,” Eddie breathes, “so tight and wet for me.”

“D-Don’t stop,” you whimper, “please don’t stop.” 

Your juices are slipping down your thighs, your pussy gets tighter around his cock, you feel filthy, especially when you hear the squelching sounds of your pussy as Eddie pounds you into the mattress. 

The room is filled with moans and whimpers. Tears are running down your cheeks, your body is already shaking, your next orgasm approaching. The coil in your stomach tightens as he fucks you deeper than before. 

“O-Oh fuck, stop clenching around me, I’m gonna cum,” Eddie growls. 

You squeal when you feel his hand around your throat. Suddenly, he has you pinned against his back, one hand remaining on your throat while the other roams your body, playing with your tits and sliding down your stomach. 

“Honey, you look so fucking good,” Steve grunts, moaning louder than before. He stares at you, he stares at the way Eddie’s cock slides in and out of your pussy, he watches the way tears run down your cheek, the way you hold your hand over Eddie’s, grasping it tightly as you moan louder and louder. 

Eddie kisses your shoulder and your neck, “you’re doing so good for me,” he whispers, “are you close, baby?” 

“Mhmmm,” you nod desperately, “s-so close.” 

“You wanna cum?” 

“Yes, Eddie! Please!” 

He looks over at Steve, “should I let her cum?” 

Steve nods, looking just as desperate as you, “yes, fuck.. Let her cum.” 

You feel him twitching inside of you, he is close, just like you, just like Steve. Eddie whimpers into your ear, his fingers reaching down to rub your clit, he grasps your chin, looking into your eyes before they flutter shut, “cum for me, baby,” he whispers before he slams his lips against yours. 

Unlike the other kisses before, this one is soft and sweet, enough to transform tears of pleasure into tears of sadness. 

You gush around him, cumming for the last time this night. Eddie moans against you, unwillingly breaking the kiss. You push away from him, letting yourself fall back down just in time for him to pull out, with a groan, he releases all over your ass and back. 

You shut your eyes, whimpering at the sensitive feelings rushing through you. 

“Fuck,” he whispers, a happy chuckle leaving his lips. 

You try to catch your breath, try to stop the tears from falling, you don’t want him to see how vulnerable you are, how hurt you still are by his past actions but you missed him so much and you feel ashamed for it because you know that this means nothing to him, just like it never meant anything to him back then. 

Your boyfriend is here, the one that you love with all your heart even when you haven’t told him yet, too scared of rejection, too scared of being pushed away by him the way you were by the other man. 

You don’t know how long you’re laying there like this but the feeling of Eddie’s hands on your skin, the feeling of him cleaning your back gently before he presses a soft kiss to your bruised ass suddenly makes you cry harder. 

Soft sobs leave your lips as all your feelings come catching up to you. 

Steve’s eyes flash with concern, he looks at Eddie, who suddenly looks like a deer caught in headlights as his face grows pale and his eyes show nothing but panic. 

Steve rushes towards you, using his throw blanket to cover your bare body, he pushes your hair to the side and touches your back softly, “honey,” he whispers, “what’s wrong?” He asks in concern. 

Eddie doesn’t even bother to put his shirt on, standing there in nothing but his jeans, he stares at you as his heart begins to race. 

Steve kisses your shoulder, your arm, your knuckles and then your cheek, “talk to me, baby,” he whispers, “are you hurt?” 

Eddie puts his hand on his forehead as tears well up in his eyes, did he take things too far? Did he hurt you? 

You shake your head, “no.. I’m not, I’m okay.” 

He should feel relieved but he can’t, not when you are crying after you just had sex. 

Your glassy eyes meet the ones of your boyfriend, your bottom lip quivers as you stare at him, you push yourself up a little, clutching the blanket against your chest, “d-do you love me?” 

Your voice sounds broken, small and vulnerable. 

Steve has never seen you like this. His heart squeezes in his chest and he furrows his brows, he nods, cupping your cheeks, “of course, honey. I love you,” he whispers, looking into your eyes with truth, “I love you so much.” 

Your eyes flash with relief, you nod, “thank you.” 

He frowns at your words, not understanding why you are thanking him for loving you but it quickly catches up to him when he looks over your shoulder, eyes locking with Eddie’s tear filled and guilty ones. 

You loved him and he didn’t love you back. 

At least that’s what you believed. 

Eddie looks heartbroken, he looks sad and he looks like he hates himself because he pushed you away before. He loves you, he is in love with you. 

Eddie’s bottom lip quivers just like yours does, he blinks, trying to push the tears back as he reaches for his shirt, throwing the black material over his head. 

Steve feels a sudden longing for the man in front of him, not wanting him to go, not wanting him to leave you again. 

“I’m gonna go,” Eddie mumbles quietly. 

Steve can see the way your eyes flash with sadness, the way your body tenses. He doesn’t want you to hurt, he doesn’t want Eddie to hurt. 

Steve wipes your tears away and he looks into your eyes. You love Eddie, maybe that should scare him but it doesn’t because he knows that you love him too and that’s all that matters. 

“Don’t go.”

Eddie looks at him in confusion, “what?” 

“Please don’t go,” Steve says, “come here.” 

Eddie hesitates, he looks at the back of your head, your quiet sniffles break his heart all over again. 

“It’s okay, Eddie.” It’s okay to love her too. 

Eddie nods, walking closer to you, he looks at you with sad eyes, watching the way you clutch Steve’s hand tightly as you cry. Tears stream down your face just like they did back then. 

He sits down beside you, reaching out to touch your shoulder but you flinch away from him. 

He closes his eyes, sighing deeply.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m so sorry for everything, for what I said. I’m sorry for lying to you.” 

Steve rubs the back of your hand, squeezing it tightly. 

“Lying?” You whisper. 

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes, “I lied to you about everything that night. I didn’t want anyone else, there was never anyone else, there was no other girl, ever. You were always the only one for me, you still are.” 

You furrow your brows, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders. You feel relieved but angry at the same time. 

“Those things I said about you, I didn’t mean them. God, I was so stupid. I wanted you so bad, still do,” he says as tears run down his cheeks. 

You look into his eyes, seeing nothing but the truth. 

You still long for him the way you always did, you still want him, you still love him. 

You love them both. 

“I was always so crazy about you, fuck– it hurt so much to push you away, sweetheart,” he whispers. 

“Then why did you?” You ask in a broken whisper. 

“I didn’t want to ruin your life.” 

Your heart breaks but the anger is stronger. 

“But you did, you did ruin my life. You broke my heart.” 

Regret and guilt is what he felt for so many months after he had pushed you away but especially now that he has to look into your tearfilled eyes. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I regretted every single day,” he whispers, scooting closer to you. He reaches his hand out again, this time, you don’t flinch when he touches you, he cups your cheeks, looking deeply into your eyes. 

“I love you.” 

You sniffle, more tears well up in your eyes as you finally hear those words that you have craved so bad. 

“I love you so much, sweetheart.” 

“Y-You do?” You whisper. 

He nods, smiling as he leans in to press a soft kiss to your forehead, “I do.”

Steve can’t even help it, he looks down at your hand that is still holding his tightly, he smiles. 

Maybe this isn’t ideal but it works for him.

Eddie grew on him, he didn’t understand just how much he did but he doesn’t mind, especially now when he sees the happy look in your eyes, when you still hold his hand as you let Eddie wrap his arms around you. 

You bury your face in the crook of his neck and squeeze him tightly as he holds you, cupping the back of your neck and breathing in your scent. 

You are happy with him but you are even happier with Eddie back in your life, that's makes it all worth it.

As Steve watches the two of you, he knows that everything is going to be okay because at the end of the day, you all have each other. 

No more pain, no more broken hearts or any missing pieces. 

You got each other forever. 

-

tagging my faves <3 @littledemondani @mysticmunson @corrodedcorpses @wroteclassicaly @aftermidnightwriting @bimbobaggins69

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #steddie x reader smut

[corrodedcorpses]

Milkshakes

Eddie x reader

Summary: You're being a brat and Eddie puts you in your place in a nice way

Warnings: this is not smut but there are some sexual themes so still 18+!!, reader is a brat, Eddie is a cute dom, light choking, they don't exactly talk about boundaries fully, reader has trouble eating sometimes

Word count: 1.5K

a/n: Idk where this came from but it's completely self indulgent and I've been in a weird mood recently and would love my own personal Eddie to take care of me like this! Hoping this gets me out of my writing slump

Eddie runs his fingers through his messy hair, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips as you stalk past him to the bedroom, slamming the door as you go. You have been in a foul mood since you came over to his trailer. Yesterday you seemed fine, excited even to spend the afternoon with him even, but since you showed up today, just after lunch time, it’s like every little thing he does annoys you. 

You were weird when he hugged you hello, like you couldn’t think of anything worse than his touch, then you complained that he hadn’t been cuddling you enough while you were on the couch together just before. Then he was talking too much about his latest campaign even though you asked about it and then he wasn’t talking enough and it was like he was ignoring you. 

Whatever he did it just got under your skin, he couldn’t win. 

You’ve gotten into these moods before, usually when you want something from him. These moods usually end with you collapsed on the bed, sore and glistening with sweat. Throat and pussy swollen from taking Eddie so well. But he knows this mood is different. 

He leans his forehead against the door you just slammed. Wracking his brain for what to do to get back on your good side. Thinking of all the things you usually like, a lot of them would involve you letting him into the room first… but he does think of one thing, you love going out for milkshakes with him. 

That’s it, he thinks. He’ll take you to your favourite diner and share some milkshakes, maybe even get some food, you could also be cranky if you were hungry and Eddie knows you struggle to eat sometimes. 

Eddie bursts through the door suddenly, excited by his ingenious idea, startling you on the bed momentarily before you plaster the scour back on your face. 

All of Eddie’s excitement seems to vanish as he sees the look on your face, still he pushes through, determined to still have a good afternoon with you.  

“Get your stuff, we’re going,” Eddie says, almost cheerily. 

“What?” you question, unamused. 

“We’re going out,” he reiterates flatly, “get your stuff.” 

“No,” you respond, crossing your arms with a huff. “I’m obviously not in the mood, I’m not going.” 

The action made you look like a spoiled kid. Jesus you could be a brat. 

“Come on, I know you’re not in the mood but can you just trust me?” he was getting frustrated at this point, all afternoon he’d be trying everything just to make you smile, to make you happy and you couldn’t just do this one thing? This one thing he knows would make you at least a little bit happier?

“No, why would I? Your idea is stupid how is going out supposed to make me feel better? You obviously don’t know me at all.” You snap back. 

He shakes his head at you, a mix of a sigh and a laugh leaving his throat. There's no humour behind it. 

“I know you better than you think, princess.” He spits the last word like an insult, it has you seeing red. 

“You don’t know shit Munson. You’ve done nothing but piss me off all day, can you just fuck off?”

Eddie’s not sure what came over him, he was fed up with your attitude, your words reminding him of how much of a brat you would be in other situations, although those were a lot more playful. Still he takes his chances, striding over to you. 

He kneels in front of where you’re sitting, crowding into your space placing his hand gently against your throat. You move away automatically, lying back on the bed as Eddie follows until you’re trapped under him, his fingers giving your throat a light squeeze. You stare into his eyes, usually warm dark orbs now black and hard. 

You’ve seen this look on his face before, just never in this kind of situation. 

“I said,” he tried a again through gritted teeth, “get your stuff.” 

When he’s met with silence he studies your expression. Your mouth is slightly open, your eyes softened and slightly glazed over. You don’t seem alarmed so he continues. He applies more pressure before continuing in a firm tone. 

“I’m getting really sick of this bratty little attitude you’ve had all day and I feel like a milkshake,” he says nonchalantly, “so get your stuff. Now.” 

He keeps his hand on your throat, his eyes darting back and forwarth between yours. You seem to be enjoying this, although you do seem a little surprised. For his peace of mind he has to check, has to make sure he hasn’t crossed a line by taking the dominance he has sometimes used into a more casual setting. 

“Colour?” He asks softly, domineering act faltering slightly. 

“Green,” you breathe in response. Sounding much smaller and submissive than you had wanted. Fully intending to keep up the annoyance that had settled over you all day. 

“Good,” Eddie responds simply, before suddenly standing up again. You feel the loss of his body heat immediately and scurry to grab your things, fulfilling his request before your brain can even comprehend your movements. 

Eddie watches you with a smirk as you slightly stumble around, mind slightly hazy as you gather your things. Once you have your bag slung over your shoulder, you stand up straight in front of him, smoothing out your bottoms as if you’re trying to look presentable for him. 

He grabs his keys and walks outside silently, revelling in the way you follow, hot on his heels. You mentally curse your body for giving in to him so easily. 

Eddie hops in his van as you try to not feel so hurt by him not opening the door for you like he usually does. 

The drive to the diner is quiet, one of Eddie’s tapes playing softly is the only thing cutting through the silence. 

When you arrive you both find a quiet booth, not many people in the diner at this time of the afternoon, the lunch rush having already passed. 

The waitress passes both of you menus but Eddie takes yours from you before you can even spare it a glance. You look at him with a mix of anger, confusion and sadness on your face but he doesn't meet your eyes, he just continues to study his own menu. 

When the waitress comes back over to take your order you’re pleasantly surprised when Eddie proceeds to order most of your favourites from the menu as well as two large milkshakes. 

You continue to sit in silence, Eddie doodling on a napkin while you try to ignore the nagging pain in your stomach. You hadn’t realised just how hungry you were until you knew there was food on the way. You do this sometimes, it’s not like you mean to not eat, sometimes it was just hard to remember to. And you don’t realise how sad and cranky it makes you. 

Your stomach also twists with regret, you feel bad for the way you’ve acted all afternoon, taking all of your weird emotions out on Eddie. And now here he was, taking you to get all of your favourites just to try and make you happy. 

You thankfully don’t have to wallow in self pity for too long before the food arrives. You both thank the waitress before trying your best to not inhale everything in front of you, knowing you'll hurt your stomach if you eat as fast as you want to. 

You’re both about halfway finished when you speak up, guilt and silence becoming unbearable. 

“Eds?” You mumble quietly. 

He looks up at you, finally, with an unreadable expression on his face as he pops another fry into his mouth. 

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely. 

He sighs, a small smile creeping onto his face. “S’okay sweetheart, you feeling better?” He asks in a tiny teasing tone. 

You nod, blushing. 

You take another bite before asking “hey, how did you know I was hungry? I didn’t say anything.” 

“Well, you were a brat, acting cranky all fucking afternoon,”  he says matter of factly “and you only do that when you’re hungry… or when you wanna fuck.” He adds the last part with a wicked smirk. 

You roll your eyes at him with a smile on your face, but you know he’s right. 

“Next time though, just tell me yeah? You know I love taking care of my girl.” 

You lean forward across the table, looking up at him through your lashes. 

“Oh yeah, well I can think of a couple other ways you can take care of your girl.” 

Eddie leans towards you too, “hmmm you’re pushing your luck a bit there babe.” But his tone isn’t serious. 

You continue to stare at him with a smirk on your face, you know you have him. 

“Tell ya what,” he continues, leaning back, “be a good girl and finish all of this and I’ll think about fucking you silly in the back of my van, hmm?” 

You quickly pop a couple of fries in your mouth, earning a chuckle from Eddie. “Okay, master,” you say through a mouthful of food and a cheeky smile on your face. 

Tagging a couple mutuals: @andvys @wroteclassicaly @pxrxcxa @usedtobecooler @eddiemunsonfuxks @parkermunson @translatemunson @hammity-hammer @littledemondani @prettyboyeddiemunson

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

[jadeddangel]

Feel free to ignore this request if you want! But basically Adam and reader being pretty good friends who are casual with each other, have a similar sense of humor and personality, reader is a older sibling figure to many of the other angels, and him just beginning to actually gain feelings for them

Eeee I'm so excited!! Thank you for requesting!!

Adam x reader

"Can't believe I'm falling in love with such a cocky bitch"

You and Adam knew eachother since the beginning of time, and having known eachother that long you started to rub off on eachother. You both had similar humor and jokes the only difference was, was that you knew how to act politely, Adam did not.

You worked as a welcoming angel for new souls and angels of the like, showing them around and getting them set up in a home was just one of your many jobs. You worked closely with percious but you didn't like him, he was kind of a cunt when he wasn't around other people. You were on your lunch break sitting at a high table on a chair swinging your legs happily, you had gotten a milkshake and some fries. Adam snuck up behind you grabbing your sides suddenly, "hah! gotcha bitch!" Adam laughed. You had went to hit him at first but started laughing with him when you realized who it was, "adam!! You bitch come sit! I haven't seen you all week bro" you pointed to the seat across from you.

You couldn't even remember who had started the tradition of sneaking up on each other, but it just stuck, and Adam never failed to sneak up on you. Adam and you talked about your week together making small jokes as you ended up sharing your fries and milkshake with him. "And then she's over here hitting on the drummer, like, you think you want drummer dick? Nah, do you know who I am? I'm fucking Adam, I'm the original dick!" Adam recited the story to you as you started snort laughing. "Well it can't be that good if she wanted drummer dick!" You said between laughing as you hit your thigh loosing your shit over your own joke. "Hey!! My dick is fine thank you very much!" Adam huffed defensively before joining in your laughter. It took you both forever to catch your breath and stop.

Adam grabbed the last fry and ate it "Alright sugartits I've gotta go danger tits is waiting for me, but hey! I'll swing by your place with some Chinese food. Sound good?" Adam looked at you with hopeful eyes. You chuckled "sure thing dickmaster I'll see ya then" you said playfully giving him a sweet smile. Adam went to get you a hug but paused and patted you on the head awkwardly instead before speeding off to go find lute.

You were a bit confused but expected it from Adam, well atleast you were learning to Adam had been acting weird.. you thought that it would be all fixed up after mating week, but he was still just as weird as before.

You ended up getting an early day off since Emily took over welcoming souls for a bit to help. "Calm her energy down." In Sera's words, at least. You picked up your place, finally dishes and other chores you were behind on. You got a movie picked for tonight and some beer and sodas for you and Adam.

Adam finally came by your place after dark with a bag of Chinese food and a bag of clothes for him to change into assuming he was staying over. Adam knocked on the door rhythmically as he waited, you opened the door after a moment or so in some sleep shorts and one of Adam's band t-shirts(I keep forgetting Adam has a band bro).

"Woah, is that Adam without lute on his shoulder like a little parrot?" You teased letting the man in. Adam took his helmet off and rolled his eyes, "I'm not bringing my second in command to your house to hang out." Now that that was weird, Adam never responded that way to that joke, "bro, you good? What happened that got you all pissy? Are you on your man period or sum?" You asked concerned but still trying to make it a joke. Adam sighed "nah just a lot on my mind. There's this chick -" "ooooo does the Adam have a crush?" Who's the lucky bitch huh? " You cut him off plopping on your couch and turning your head so Adam could change(like you weren't just watching him in the reflection of the tv). Adam sighed and got changed into comfy clothes, "yea it's fucking weird though I mean she wouldn't leave my mind during mating week and ugh I get so awkward around her" Adam groaned laying on the couch with his head in you thighs. "Shit Adam do you actually like this chick? Or do you just wanna fuck her? Orrrr was the pussy that good that you want more?" You teased playing with Adam's hair carefully. Adam shook his head "I think I like her I mean I've known her for awhile and she just gets me yknow?" Adam said tilting his head a bit to look at you before changing his mind and grabbing the remote looking through Aisney(angel disney) and putting on the live action of "the jungle dude" (the jungle book).

You took a moment to think, it hurt, the thought of Adam falling in love with someone else after sharing so much. "Just think about your heart before you brain Adam, think about your feelings, maybe you should tell her I mean it can't hurt too bad, and I mean if your friends I'm sure she feels the same... and you guys can just be together, yknow.." You slowly got quieter and quieter, feeling like if you were any louder, you were gonna cry your eyes out.

Adam nodded a bit. "What would you do in my situation?" Adam asked under his breath, yet you still heard him. You took a deep breath "Adam I...." Your words got caught in your throat as you looked down at him looking guilty. Adam tilted his head to look at you confused at the look. "What's with the look sugar tits? You look like I'm about to cry, did I say sum?" Adam asked genuinely concerned for you. It made your heart melt knowing he cared for you so much, it made your heart melt so much in fact that before your brain registered what you were doing you had leaned down and trapped his lips in a kiss. The angle wasn't comfortable, and your spine was bent weird, but God was it worth it, feeling how soft his lips were. Adam froze for a moment before melting into it, licking along your bottom lip, teasing you a bit. After a moment of you both continuing to kiss each other, you both pulled away for air a small string of salive connecting you and breaking after you moved too far away. You were panting a bit but didn't go too far from his face. "That's what I'd do.. " you whispered softly, your lips barely brushing against Adam's. Adam reached up and put a had on your cheek "you wanna know something sugar tits? I think I would do the same.." Adam smiled as he locked your lips together in a passionate kiss pulling away after a few moments.

Adam smiled and sat up next to you , allowing you to straighten your back properly. Adam chuckled " awwe you hunched just to kiss me sugar tits? I'm honored" Adam joked. You rolled your eyes "yea yea whatever dickmaster now do you wanna cuddle up and eat while we watch a movie or do we wanna talk about what well we are first?" You tilted you head a bit. Adam was already reaching for the bag when you brought it up. "What do you mean what we are? I thought that kiss established it, I'm yours and your mine" Adam spoke almost boredly. You could feel the blush creep up on your face " your gonna be one heck of a boyfriend " you laughed.

The rest of the evening was relaxed as you cuddled and ate together. Before falling asleep together on your couch, hoping everything would be perfect with you both together

#hazbin hotel adam #x reader #hazbin adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel #confession #adam x reader confession #jaded works🪶

[seelestars]

➴ ✫ * ✧ TYPES OF DATES THEY’D TAKE YOU ON (HSR characters)

includes : jing yuan , blade , dan heng , kafka , seele , himeko

JING YUAN : he’d take you shopping ! he shows a lot of his affection through gifts, so he wants you to pick anything you want ♪( ´▽｀) he’s a gentleman, would carry your bags for you as you two continue strolling through the streets ! if you guys go shopping for clothes, he will gladly tell you his opinions on the different outfits you try on (except he thinks you look good in anything hehe) maybe he even recommends clothes that he think would look spectacular on you ! buys you some food and snacks along the way too, insisting to hand feed it to u

DAN HENG : he’d take you to the beach ! he blushes slightly at first when seeing you wear a swimsuit (imagine either a bikini or swim trunks depending on what u prefer) if you like building sand castles, he’d help you ! or you might even have a little competition to see who can build the bigger sand castle~ if you wanna do sand art, that’s fine too ! he’d draw you and him together in the sand with a heart (except he doesn’t have rlly good art skills so it’s just u n him as stickmen) if you wanted to swim, he would swim w u . u splash water on him , expecting him to splash u back but he just sits there letting you soak him in water like the sweet boy he is :( he just wants to please u

BLADE : he’d take you to an aquarium ! he secretly thinks the fish are very cute and cool , you will probs catch him zoning out while staring at them lol .. so in order to get his attention again , you press a few kisses to his cheek , causing his ears to turn red as he stares at you … u insist on taking pics w him, so with a reluctant sigh , he does all the silly poses you want to do with him (like using ur arms to make hearts etc etc) I imagine he has some weird obscure facts about the sea life in the aquarium , so if you’re willing he might go on a small rant about them what a cutie patootie.. might even point out the fishes that remind him of u

KAFKA : she’d take you to the movies ! she’s fine with any genre, so it’s up to u to pick . if u choose horror , she’d be elated bcuz deep down she wants u to cling to her whenever u get scared hehe ! if u choose smth like romance , she would probs go “that could be us if you wanted~” with a smile as she turns to you .. she likes seeing the blush that blooms on ur cheeks whenever she says things like that . def makes a lot of comments if she even remotely sees the protagonist act like u do ! sometimes , she even makes comments about the movie . like how certain parts r cheesy (bold coming from her), or how some parts seem too fake .. she’s an enthusiast about analyzing films ..

HIMEKO : she’d take you to a cat cafe ! she thinks the cats r rlly cute , plus it’s a cafe ! so she can have coffee while playing w the cats along w u ! when she spots a cat that looks / reminds her of u , she points it out before putting the cat on her lap , smiling at u .. she’ll even put it on ur lap and take pictures of you two together ! would share the desserts and drinks with you (im talking like putting two straws into smth like a milkshake, except she would use urs sometimes for the indirect kiss ..) , might even hand feed you some of it (๑╹ω╹๑ ) the type to lick a crumb off your lips if u had any lol (it’s a plus for her watching you get flustered at the action)

SEELE : she’d take you on a picnic ! she’s a person who prefers more simpler things , and it’s no different when it comes to dates ! but don’t worry , u two still have a good time hehe ☆〜（ゝ。∂）surprisingly , she brings more sweet things then anything else .. she’s a bit of a sweet tooth (even though she gets a lil embarrassed about it if you call her out on it lol) if any animals pass by , she might share some food w it (she has a soft spot for animals .. ) it’s even better if you guys watch the sunset or stargaze while having the picnic, she thinks the sky is very beautiful .. she probs knows the name of all the diff constellations and stars n will gladly tell u them while gesturing towards each one in the sky

#honkai star rail #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #jing yuan x reader #blade x reader #kafka x reader #dan heng x reader #himeko x reader #seele x reader

[starlightandfairies]

Hiii 🫶🏼 I hope you're still up for doing an Elijah request! 🤗 I can't get this man out of my head haha

Soo it would be an idea where they met somewhere in Mystic Falls and immediately felt some bond between them, so it happens that they start falling in love (she's human but knows about vampires) but she's too afraid to get hurt so she also tries not to get too close to Elijah. One night he sees some stranger following her home from the Grill and even starts attacking her, Elijah is immediately there saving her and taking her home with him to treat her wounds (mostly some scratches) and he's just super worried. There she realizes that Elijah would never be the one hurting her and they finally share their feelings with a lot of kissing and cuddles afterwards and he holds her, telling how much she means to him.

Oh I hope this is not too weird at all 🙈❤️

Description: Upon meeting Elijah Mikaelson, the feelings start to come but in fear of being hurt, the reader decides to keep her walls up to protect herself. This changes after Elijah protects her after being attacked.

Warnings: fluff, small angst, physical assault (mild), she/her pronouns, maybe swearing?

*Requests are open, please send through as many requests as you want, check my character list and requesting rules.*

Thanks so much for making this request! I can never get sick of Elijah, this man is always on my mind and please feel free to request again if you wish :) I really enjoyed writing this, thank you again :D

Key: Y/N = Your Name, POV = Point of view

Word Count: 2,125

First Person's POV

Tonight at the Grill was a ‘live acoustics’ night, some of the performers were good and others were quite frankly not that great. Bonnie, Elena and Caroline were off on the next big adventure for the vampiric save-the-day business and while I knew about all the vampires, witches, werewolves and all that extra fun stuff. Besides Matt, I was the only human in the group and somehow I was pushed aside to be kept ‘safe; despite Matt always being dragged into the whirlpool of drama even if he didn’t want to be. 

“The music is wonderful for the atmosphere tonight, don’t you agree?” That voice would haunt my dreams, haunt my every thought, I couldn’t fathom how gentle and warm a voice could sound. I glanced to the side, shooting a polite smile to the impeccably dressed man and nodded in agreement. 

“I do agree, I feel like I’m in like a cute little romance story, the warm lighting and the music-“ I cut myself short, realising I was babbling to a random stranger who more than likely did not care for my ideas and thoughts. 

“I can see how you would see that.” Oh, gosh- those eyes! That smile! This man would haunt me forever, picture perfect and everything I would want in a man. I continued to share a polite smile with the man, fiddling with the straw in my chocolate milkshake and turned myself slightly to face the man a little better. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you…?” Realising that he was waiting for my name, I placed my drink down and took his hand. 

“Y/N L/N” He softly cupped my hand, shaking it and proceeded to share his name.

“Elijah Mikaelson.” I wish I could’ve hidden my reaction better, my eyes went wide, and my smile flattened for a moment before I quickly made sure to continue to be nice and polite. Elijah carefully rested my head on the bar, took a small sip of whatever his drink was and gazed at me with a quizzical look. 

“You know who I am…” His tone was neither harsh nor hurt, Elijah seemed to have suspected my knowledge of his name and he even seemed curious by the idea of my knowledge. 

“I know of your brother Niklaus… Elena told me about you, I think she might have exaggerated a bit. You don’t seem like the antagonist she kinda painted you out to be. From what I’ve heard, you’re the nicer brother… the noble one and I'm sure first glances can be deceiving but… I don’t know- you don’t seem like a bad man.”  He briefly licked his lips, eyes shooting up to the ceiling and seemed to be contemplating his next moves. 

“I suppose you know-“ 

“That you’re a…” I leaned closer to whisper so people passing by wouldn’t hear. 

“An Original.” 

“You don’t seem to be phased.”

“Team doppelgänger has built up my immunity to supernatural beings.” I let out a weak chuckle, cringing internally and turned my focus back on my drink. I wanted to keep speaking with him, I really did want to keep speaking with him but I knew the world that I happened to live in and I didn’t fancy the idea of being bait or hurt as collateral damage. 

“It was really nice to meet you Elijah but I have to go.” He nodded, that handsome smile appearing once more, his actions made me gush and brought butterflies into my belly as he grabbed my jacket and assisted in placing it back on. 

“I hope that you have a good evening, Y/N” 

“Same to you Elijah.” He seemed to have a thought pop into his head, I stopped in my tracks, allowing for him to have the benefit of the doubt and give him the chance to speak his mind. 

“May I have the pleasure of seeing you again?” 

“Maybe… There’s always tomorrow.” I knew I had given myself away, I could feel my heart skip a beat, I’m sure he could hear it, his facial expression didn’t change but I could feel that he knew what I was feeling. 

“Have a good evening,” I whispered, brushing past him to carry on my way. 

+++++++

I had seen Elijah a couple of times since our first meeting, we had small conversations and I tried my best to conceal my heart, I didn't want to get close to this man despite enjoying his presence, his voice and the true appearance of his gentlemanly ways made me fall into a daydream greater than any story or dream I could ever have or read. 

The next time I saw Elijah was three months after our first meeting, as I said we had multiple different meetings and they were all the greatest moments of my life despite how much I tried to protect my fragile heart. I had left my home for the park, I wanted to read outside of my home and get some fresh air away from the stuffiness of my bedroom. I rested the picnic blanket underneath a large tree, I read three chapters of my book before I felt a presence looming nearby, I placed the book to the side and stood up, surveying the area for a figure and jumped in my skin seeing Elijah approaching me. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you, may I join you?" I nodded, smiling at the man, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt and sat down with me on the picnic blanket. He gently picked my book up, staring at the cover with intrigue, I observed him with butterflies growing in my stomach, a blush wanting to form on my cheeks as I continued to drown in what was possibly a huge crush for the Original Vampire. 

"Ignite Me by Tahereh Mafi... I'm not sure I've heard of this one before." 

"I doubt you would've, I don't exactly picture you reading a book like this?" He smiled, tilting his head slightly, a deep chuckle leaving his mouth and he handed me back the book. 

"Why is that?" 

"Well... I don't know, I picture you reading older books nothing from the late 20th century to the early 21st century." Elijah briefly nodded in agreement, I smiled proudly at my guess and fiddled with the tassels hanging off of my bookmark. The vampire took off his suit jacket and began rolling up the sleeves of his button-up, I bit the inside of my cheek, begging myself to remain calm and avoid giving away any kind of emotions being revealed. 

"Enlighten me, will you though, please? What's it about?" I cleared my throat, leaning closer to him with joy forming, giddy that he was showing interest in something that I liked and enjoyed. 

"It's the third book in the series, I've read it before, and this one is one of my favourites. Essentially the series is all about control some people have these powers and the leaders are trying to control these people. The relationship of the main characters is what I happen to enjoy the most about it, I love how Tahereh created their bond from..." 

"Why did you stop?" Elijah gently questioned, his face furrowing in concern, I wanted to cringe but I forced the words out before I could let that show. Taking a deep breath, I turned my gaze back to him, scrunching my face up briefly and proceeded to explain to Elijah what was going through my head. 

"Whenever I ramble on to the Salvatores and all that, it's clear that they don't care and I'm not wanting to force that onto you. I'm sorry." Elijah tutted, shaking his head and holding out his hand for me to take. Hesitating for a moment, I finally rested my hand in his, holding my breath for a moment and kept my eyes focused on him as he rested his other hand on top of mine. 

"You do that too often, Y/N, I can see you trying to protect your heart and you have a wide range of information waiting to come out and you shut yourself down because you expect everyone else to do that. I hope you find someone... someone who makes you realise you don't need to do that." 

"Could possibly end up being you, Elijah," I whispered.

+++++

When someone unknown came into Mystic Falls, it was always a concerning event, the vampires were always the most suspicious of strangers and most of the time they were typically right for not trusting the stranger. It was late when I left the grill tonight, Elijah was growing on my mind more and more, and I would be hit with a wave of memories at random moments. 

"Up ahead, there's an alley to your right, walk down it. Try anything-" 

"Okay... I understand." I whispered, complying as I walked a little quicker and turned down the alleyway. I cried out as I was instantly shoved against the wall, my head ached and the world spun around me, I bit back a sob as I hit the ground and hissed as the gravel bit into my skin. I kicked off my heels, not fancying a broken ankle and lept to my feet running towards the street but missed as the man tackled me to the ground and which resulted in blood slightly trickling down my forehead and more cuts forming against my skin. 

It felt like something out of a vampire movie, I heard a whoosh and then a light thud. Elijah appeared, holding the man against the wall effortlessly with one hand and easily compelled the man to walk off and not commit any sort of crime again. I let out a few sobs as the pain sunk in and the adrenaline started to fade away.

Elijah swooped me into his arms, effortlessly taking me to his mansion and rested me down on his obnoxiously large bed. He crouched down, gently cupping my face in his hands, observing my facial features and swiftly disappeared somewhere before running back. 

"Are you okay?" He questioned, focusing on grabbing the things from the first-aid kit to treat my wounds. 

"I'm okay..." I whispered, hissing as he wiped an alcohol wipe across the graze on my palm and watched as he apologised profusely for inflicting any added pain onto me. Elijah was so attentive to my needs, he cleaned the blood and dirt away from my cuts and grazes. Covering them with bandaids, doing what he could to assist in caring for me. It was as he was lingering for a moment, observing my form that I realised that Elijah Mikaelson would never hurt me. He would never cause any harm to me, Elijah Mikaelson would protect me and I knew that I wouldn't need to worry any longer. 

"You wouldn't hurt me..." I whispered, staring at the vampire as he grasped my face and held eye contact with me. 

"Y/N L/N I would never dream of hurting you, you... you're perfect... Y/N you are the epitome of perfect, I haven't met someone as intelligent, kind, sweet, and funny in a long time. Y/N I love you and I hope that you'll allow-" I pushed myself closer to him, carefully cupping his face to kiss the man who had possessed my dreams too often. 

"Elijah, please, never let me go, I can't keep guarding myself-" 

"Shhh, I've got you." He kissed my forehead, pulling me into his arms and pushing himself to lay against the headboard of his bed. I inhaled, holding onto the warm and mesmerising smell of his cologne, I curled into his chest and hummed gently as he rested another kiss on my forehead. 

I felt protected, Elijah was my guardian angel, and he made me feel warm and gooey. Made me giddy and the butterflies a constant swarm in my belly, I fiddled with his hands, staring at the family ring that rested on his finger and glanced to him as he pulled my face to meet his. I hummed as he rested a kiss against my lips, sucking in another deep breath and curling in closer as he strokes my hair, his touch comforting and loving. 

"Can I stay here? Just in your arms? Where I'm safe and with you, you Elijah who looks after me and takes the time to listen and know me?" Elijah's smile made the butterflies come to life, my cheeks flushed red and his simple words reassured me for an infinity of time. 

"Always and forever." 

#the originals #fluff #angst #elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikaelson imagine #the mikaelsons #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson imagine #klaus mikaelson x y/n #klaus mikaelson #elijah mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson fluff #daniel gillies #joseph morgan #rebekah mikaelson #hayley marshall #marcel gerard #freya mikaelson #kol mikaelson #daniel gilles fluff #elijah mikealson x reader #elijah mikaelson fic #elijah mikaelson x y/n #elijah mikaelson x female reader #niklaus mikaelson #niklaus imagines #niklaus x reader #niklaus mikaelson x reader #niklaus mikaelson fluff

[cal-flakes]

thinking about our boy rafe! i really wanna ask him out for date and share milkshake with him, and you know that cheesy sharing one straw thing, yes i wanna do that with him and watch sunset with him and kiss his lovely face 🥺

╰┈➤ first date with rafe

warnings: light swearing, fluff.

summary: rafe picks y/n up for their first date together.

she picked at her nails nervously as she waited by the window, inspecting every care that drove past her house incase it was his.

her stomach did flips as she paced her living room, anxious for the night to come. she knew him somewhat well already, but not on a personal level. for years rafe was just her friend’s brother, nothing more, but he could be?

sighing, she smoothed down her sundress once more and fixed her makeup in the hallway mirror until she heard the sound of rafe blaring his car horn. “christ i’m coming…” she muttered sarcastically to herself, quickly grabbing her bag before rushing out of the door.

closing in on his range rover, she grinned as he jumped out, rounding the car to hold the door open. “thank you” she giggled shyly, sliding into the passenger seat.

situating herself, y/n failed to notice the holes rafe was burning in her for a moment, but soon caught him staring. “what? is something wrong?

“no, no! of course not, you just- you look beautiful y/n..” he cooed, glancing at her to flash a quick smile. “oh- thank you rafe, you look rather charming yourself” she stated, mimicking his laughter.

“so where are we going?” she queried, recognising the roads they were taking yet having no clue of the destination. “i thought we could go to the island club? i know you said you don’t really like food on first dates because it’s messy, so i thought we could just get a milkshake or something?” he stated, yet a tone of uncertainty shone through.

she grinned in delight as she felt her stomach flutter, he remembered. it was such a small thing, yet so surprising, especially coming from rafe cameron.

“that sounds really nice” she mumbled, watching the way his hands gripped the steering wheel.

the rest of the drive there was comfortably quiet, with rafe focused on the road and y/n humming along to the songs on the radio. “do you have a favourite song?” he asked, not wanting to seem bored. he smirked slightly as he noticed her eyes light up at the question.

“oh gosh, i don’t think i could pick one! there’s so many, and i like so many different artists-” she rambled, so uplifted by the chance to talk about music. he chuckled at her childlike excitement as they headed into the restaurant.

thanking their server for the night, she slid into the booth, her manicured hands trailing over the menus placed in front of them. “so, milkshakes. what flavour?” he asked, resting his chin in his hand. “chocolate, always chocolate!” y/n giggled.

twisting his face, he grimaced at the thought. “chocolate? why would you choose chocolate? of all flavours!” he sighed teasingly. her mouth fell agape as she played along, placing a hand over her hurt heart. “chocolate is like the best flavour of anything!”

their debate settled once the server reappeared, pen and pad in hand. both rafe and y/n stuttered for a moment, now indecisive about what flavours to get, cautious of their previous disagreement.

“how about, we get one chocolate and one vanilla? and we can share them?” y/n suggested, growing antsy at the idea of the server waiting for them to choose. “sounds good to me..” rafe smiled, collecting both menus for the younger girl stood at the edge of their table.

y/n, set out to find out more about the boy opposite her, leaned further across the table, grabbing his attention. “so, mr kook king, tell me about yourself” she stated, earning a sarcastic smile at the nickname. “what do-what do you wanna know?” he stumbled, suddenly dumbfounded as his mind went blank.

“i want to know about you, what you do, your family, you’re friends and so on..” she chuckled, tracing patterns on the top of her hand with her nail. glancing between the ticklish sensation, and her, he rubbed his jaw in thought.

“well, i’ve recently taken on my fathers development company, and it’s great, it gives me something to do, but i kinda want more out of life y’know?” he explained, his tone softer now. she frowned in sympathy as he spoke, she’d heard about his late father, everyone had.

“i get you, i really want to go travelling after college, there’s just so much more to the world than kildare, i want to get out” she hummed, watching as he nodded along. “exactly, like there’s just a lot of shit that went down here, and it would be really refreshing to get back out for a while..”

her mind worked away, picking his words apart to understand exactly what he meant. “so, where do you want to travel?” he asked, shifting the focus from himself. “ooh! well, i really want to go to south america, and europe, oh! and i really want to go to italy, it’s so romantic and magical there” she gushed, daydreaming of going one day with a romantic partner.

their conversation was cut short when their milkshakes arrived, the pair thanked the girl once more before turning their eyes to the overly large glasses infront of them, topped with whipped cream and sauces.

“okay, so next question..” he mumbled with a mouthful of whipped cream. giggling, she tilted her head. “if you could be any animal, what would you be?” he asked with full seriousness.

she threw her head back hysterically, laughing at the cheesy first date question. “hmm, i think i’d be…”

the next hour or so was full of laughter and silly questions as they learned more about one another, and every so often he felt as though he’d never laughed like this before, just pure- genuine happiness for a night, and he couldn’t help but wish that every night from then on would be the same.

the pair finished off their milkshakes before he paid the bill, much to her dismay. their hysterics continued all the way home, until they reached y/n’s front porch.

“okay-okay! last question!” he sang, wincing as his stomach began to hurt from laughing so much. “would you, possibly, like to go on another date with me?” he questioned, cocking a brow playfully. “oh, i’m not sure about that..” she joked, her face lighting up in amusement as disappointment washed over his face.

she leant against the porch railing, smiling sweetly at him as she placed a gentle hand on his chest. “i’m kidding you big baby!” she teased. “i would absolutely love, to see you again” she whispered between breaths. eyeing him as he stepped closer.

“good, because i want to see you again..” he agreed, cupping her face softly as he closed the space between them.

her eyes gleamed as she stared up at him, wrapping her arms around his neck before pulling him down to meet her lips.

his free hand snaked around her back as he deepened the kiss, while hers reached up to his buzzed hair.

the two quickly pulled away, breathless as they grinned at one another. “pick you up tomorrow?” he suggested, taking a step back. “tomorrow sounds good” she muttered, looking up at him through her lashes. nodding, he began to walk backwards to his car, ensuring she got inside the house before he drove off.

“goodnight y/n..” he breathed contently.

“goodnight rafe..”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x fem!reader #outer banks #rafe cameron #outerbanks rafe #obx #rafecameron #rafe obx #dom!rafe #soft!rafe cameron #soft!dom rafecameron #soft!rafecameron #soft!dom rafe #soft!rafe #bf!rafe cameron #bfb!rafe #bfb!rafecameron #rafe x you #rafe imagine #rafe outer banks #rafe x y/n #rafe fanfiction #rafe x reader #obx fic #obx x reader #obx imagine #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron headcanons #rafe cameron imagine

[sideblogofthcentury]

Steve had blacked out. All of his senses had dwindled to nothing but blind rage. He was lost in a sea of darkness, and all he could do was breathe. And with each breath he took, he began to return to himself, began filling in the missing puzzle pieces of what had just happened.

Steve breathed in and smelled the crisp cold air, shortly before snow or a cold rain, and Steve breathed out.

Steve breathed in and tasted the quickly souring aftertaste of the strawberry milkshake he’d shared with Robin, and Steve breathed out.

Steve breathed in and heard the high pitched ringing in his ears, the echoes of a spat “freak” reverberating in his head, and Steve breathed out.

Steve breathed in and felt the stinging of his knuckles, the weakness after a heavy exertion traveling up his arm, and Steve breathed out.

Steve breathed in and saw the beautiful angry red trickle down Jason Carver’s face, soaking the front of his white shirt, and Steve breathed out.

Ah. Steve was caught up now.

Jason’s eyes flashed with what Steve first mistook as anger. Steve breathed in and braced himself for another big drawn-out fight that would end with him unconscious.

And Steve breathed out and only then recognized that flash in Jason’s eyes as fear.

Steve smiled, a big toothy grin, and let himself chuckle at the broken little sound Jason made as he backed away.

“Don’t you ever. fucking let me see your face again, Jason. I will break it in two.”

And just like that, Steve saw Jason walk away.

Steve turned around to see Eddie, Robin, and Dustin standing in a semicircle, not a single closed mouth among them.

It was a long moment before anyone said anything, but it was Dustin who piped up first, with nothing but a simple “dude.”

Steve let Eddie drive the Beemer, Robin excitedly rambling instant replays as Dustin wrapped Steve’s hand in the backseat.

Dustin was dropped off first, with a “See you in the morning, badass.”

Robin was dropped off second, with a “Remind me not to piss you off.”

And then Steve moved to the front seat and stared at his hand, clenching and unclenching it, feeling the pain shoot up his wrist, the pressure of the bandage feeling good, like it was holding him together.

Eddie drove them to Steve’s empty house, neither boy breaking the silence that was so loud, the trilling guitar and shouted lyrics couldn’t even drown it out.

Eddie put the car in park in Steve’s driveway, staring ahead for a long moment before pivoting in his seat to look at Steve’s hand.

“Steve?”

“yeah?”

“You good?”

Steve breathed in.

Steve breathed out.

And Steve told the truth.

“No. Honestly, no. I can’t fucking stand it anymore, Eddie, I don’t know how you do it.”

Eddie knew what he was referring to. “You uh, get used to it?”

“No. I refuse.”

“Well damn Steve you can’t go punching the entire town. What will you do when the next person is an 80 year old woman? You gonna hit an old lady, Steve?”

“If she deserves it.”

Eddie shook his head and barked out a laugh that was definitely not a laugh. “So you’re really looking forward to that prison time, huh?”

“If I deserve it.”

Eddie threw his hands up into the air like the exasperated mother of an impossible child. “Steve!! you’re not getting it. It’s never going to stop. People are going to talk and say things and think whatever the fuck they want to think! And you can’t ever change their minds because they’re right. I don’t belong. I’m the freak.”

It lingered in the air again and for a moment Steve thought he was going to black out again.

Steve breathed in.

Steve breathed out.

“No.”

Eddie gaped at him. “Steve-

“No. Goddamn fucking no, Eddie. There is nothing wrong with you. No. Not a thing. You care about people, and you’re kind, and you’re smart and funny and they’re… they’re-“ Steve sputtered, unable to come up with a word deserving of association with them, finally settling for a disgusted face and a sigh.

“People don’t like you because you don’t check their boxes. You don’t, and you don’t care to, and they don’t like that. It makes them think. Every time they see you they’re forced to think; to wonder why they work so hard to fit in when you seem so defiantly happy refusing. People don’t understand, and it scares them. People don’t like what they can’t understand. And you’re so boldly you, you’re-“

Steve breathed in.

Steve breathed out.

“You’re terrifying.”

Part Two

#I’ll probably make a part two if literally even one person wants it #but it is late and i am sleepy so the quality will diminish if I continue now #steve is speaking from personal experience #because eddie made king steve think #and eddie scared king steve #I am trying to get back into writing but have no motivation so i really hope you like it #steve’s anger issues #I just really love Steve going full chihuahua on jason carver #like this lil guy is scrappy as hell #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve eddie #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #stranger things

[qtkarma]

the thin line between hate and love

Yuuji Itadori isn’t familiar with the feelings of hatred and love ( and lust ) and can’t help getting them mixed up.

tw ; masturbation, underwear stealing, f!reader

a/n yuuji’s a tad of a perv in this. whoops.

Yuuji Itadori hated you.

Hate was an emotion the teenage boy wasn’t familiar with ; I mean, you could ask anyone and they would only describe him as the worlds most happy-go lucky kind of human, physically incapable of hating someone.

But yet, the moment you entered Jujutsu Tech, that foreign feeling creeped into his mind, grabbing him by the snares.

When he had confessed to Nobara and Megumi about this new-found emotion, they quirked a brow before sharing a look.

“You don’t hate her.” Nobara turned back towards him, a smug look on her face. Megumi simply kept sipping on his chocolate milkshake, leaning back into the diners red booth.

Yuuji gave her a baffled look. He absolutely hated you ; hated when you opened your oh-so kissable mouth to make a well timed witty remark with your silky smooth voice.

He hated the way you fought ; ruthlessly, with a hint of strategy. How you could set your mind to something and make sure it happened.

He hated the way you called him when you were at the store, asking if he needed anything.

He hated the way you got along with everyone. The moment you had joined the handful of students studying jujutsu you had fit in like a missing puzzle piece, completing their friend group.

He hated how you took care of those around you. The one morning he awoke to find you in the Jujutsu Tech’s kitchen, open windows letting in the coo of morning doves, the sunrise illuminating your figure, clad in a oversized graphic tee. Your back was turned to him, and you were clearly making breakfast for the tenants of the dorms. He hated the smile you gave him when you noticed him.

“That’s my shirt.” Was all he said, his lip curled in a small snarl. He hated the way you looked good in it.

“It is? Shit, m’ sorry. I must’ve mistook it for my own when I did laundry earlier.” Wiping your hands on a spare hand towel, you began to fix a plate. “I’ll go change in a moment. Keep an eye on the eggs for me? Toge mentioned wanting sunny side up eggs, and I really don’t want them to burn…”

And then, you say a plate full of Yuuji’s favourite breakfast foods right in front of him. Turning, you grabbed a napkin and utensils, setting them next to the piping hot food.

“Sit, eat. I’ll go change and wake up everyone else before everything gets cold. Your laundry is in the laundry room, to. I saw everyone’s clothes were piling up and figured I could help out.”

Yuuji stared at the food for what felt like forever. Chewing on the inside of his cheek, he pulled out the old wooden chair and began to eat. Holy shit. This is good.

“You can keep it on.” The words flew out of his mouth before he even processed them. “Go wake everyone up. And, uh, thanks for the food and laundry.” Yuuji stuffed another bite of pancake in his mouth, determined to not say anything else he was going to regret.

“Thanks. Eat as much as you want, to. I’ll make more if I need to. I already know Panda will scarf half of it down.” A small smile painted your face and you left the room.

“Yuuji?” Nobara questioned, waving a wilty french fry of the pink haired boys face.

“I hate her. I know it.” Yuuji slapped Nobara’s hand from his face. “I can’t stand her, actually.”

Nobara let out a sigh, dipping the fry into Megumi’s chocolate shake. He threw her a nasty look before speaking.

“There’s a thin line between hate and love, y’know that? I think your mixing up your emotions.” Nobara nodded in agreement, mouth full of fry’s and chocolate shake.

Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, but… he couldn’t. Nothing came to his mind. Did he really hate you? I mean… of course he did. The past year of you being at Jujutsu Tech has been hell for him. He couldn’t go anywhere without you being there, or being mentioned. He couldn’t stand it.

“See? You don’t hate her,” Nobara leaned forward, a devilish grin on her face. “Maybe you even love her! I mean, I would to, she’s amazing, and got the looks and a hot bod.”

No. He definitely hated you.

He hated the way you stretched before fighting ; leaning over to flash him a glimpse of your cleavage in your stupid modified uniform. He hated the way you wore tight dresses during parties, skimpily sliding up your thighs with every move. He hated the way he had lost a bet, forced to do everyone’s laundry and found a few thongs in your basket of dirty laundry. ( He hated the way he pocketed one of them. )

He hated the way the thought of you could have him doubled over in the shower, one arm holding him up and the other wrapped around his painfully hard cock, wishing it was you.

And he absolutely hated that at one of Maki’s stupid parties that she had suggested spin the bottle, and how you all sat in a circle, Yuuji directly across from you. He hated watching you share a kiss with Yuuta, the way the sorcerer blushed and cupped your face. He hated the way the boy excused himself immediately after, sporting an obvious boner.

He hated that neither his or your spins landed on each other before the game finally dispersed.

Nobara’s loud laugh drew him from his thinking. Her head thrown back, hands clutching her stomach. Megumi even was laughing.

“You don’t hate her! My god, you are in love with her! Aww, our little baby Yuuji is all grown up and in love! Are you gonna ask her out? Take her on a cute little date-“ Yuuji covered his ears with his hands, sinking into the diner booth.

Shit.

Maybe Yuuji didn’t hate you.

#itadori smut #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen smut #itadori yuji x reader

[lilacliquors]

happy early birthday! what if it's reader's birthday and hughie and the others are trying to keep her party a surprise but reader thinks they forgot about it and butcher attempts to cheer her up in his own way? if you're not taking fic reqs that's fine too - but i hope you're having an excellent day and birthday to come! <33

a birthday surprise

pairing: (slight) billy butcher x reader, the boys x reader (platonic)

word count: 1116

notes: i loved this so much and also my friends forgot my birthday today so far so

it was strange. no one had been really talking to you much the last few weeks. they were brief conversations, pleasantries were exchanged, and every time to walked by, they would hurriedly stop whispering, though you swore you heard your name come up in conversation. yet, when you asked about it, m.m or hughie were often very quick to reassure you everything was okay. it puzzled you, and maybe even hurt your feelings slightly, but what could you do? you had hoped it would have stopped by your birthday, but that hope was fading, and fast.

the morning of your birthday, you woke up and reached for your phone. you had been hoping to get a few texts overnight from the more late owl-ish ones of the group, like frenchie or or annie, but there was nothing from either of them. of course, you replied to the well wishes from your other friends and family, the ones too far away for you to to be with, but your immediate friends, the family you had forged yourself, there was nothing from them so far. maybe you were just overthinking it, and everything was fine. that thought alone helped you get up out of one of the extra beds butcher had set up in the flatiron building, but when you went down to the main meeting room, no one was even around to greet you. you stood there quietly, just looking around the room, and your shoulders slumped. they hadn’t ever done this to you before, they’d never forgotten your birthday before … but you supposed there was a first time for everything.

sighing, you went to go make yourself a cup of coffee with one of the pods butcher kept near the coffee machine. and as your back was turned, you heard one of the doors open, then shut, and heavy footsteps came up behind you.

“oh good, someone’s finally awake,” billy said, and you merely glanced over your shoulder to look at him.

“oh, uh, yeah. i am,” you replied, then grabbed your ready coffee and added your milk and sugar to it. 

“everything all right?” he asked, and you shrugged your shoulders.

“sure, i guess so.”

“all right, don’t fuck around. tell me what’s bothering you.”

you sighed and sipped at your coffee, avoiding his gaze.

“it’s stupid,” you muttered, and he scoffed.

“could be. but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t share it.”

you thought for a moment, then shrugged again and looked up at him. when you did, he watched his expression change ever so slightly, his brows pinching together and his eyes narrowing a bit.

“so far, no one’s remembered my birthday. not even you, from the looks of it,” you said, and he went stiff for a second.

“nonsense, i didn’t forget,” he said, causing you to roll your eyes.

“you didn’t exactly come in wishing me a happy birthday, now did you?”

he couldn’t answer that, it was true. he came in with a few harmless jabs, but that wasn’t exactly what you wanted.

“i didn’t, you’re right. and … i’m sorry. here, let me make it up to you before i call up hughie and yell at him for this.” “no, don’t worry about it. it’s about time i just let go of the whole birthday thing anyways. probably getting too old for it.”

billy shook his head and set a gentle hand on your shoulder, which made you look up at him with a soft sigh.

“nonsense. go get ready, i’m taking you to lunch.”

***

you and butcher were sitting in a diner booth across from each other, eating and talking like two old friends. it was nice, relaxed, and great way to take your mind off of the sadness of earlier. your plates were both nearly cleaned, and you had a milkshake in front of you, something billy encouraged you to get.

“i’m buyin’, so treat yourself,” he had said, and you did so with a bit of hesitation. but overall, it was a nice afternoon out, and you were enjoying yourself. it was the best birthday lunch you’d had in a while, and you almost didn’t want it to end.

“almost time to head back. got lots of work to do,” billy said, and you nodded, using the straw in your glass to stir the last bits of ice cream and whipped cream around.

“i guess so. but thank you for this,” you said, looking up at him with a smile. “i had a really nice time with you.”

“it’s the least i can do. wasn’t exactly a gentleman about it this morning.”

you laughed as he paid the check, and then you left the diner together. you were in much better spirits as you walked down the sidewalk, and you gently nudged billy.

“thanks again. and … don’t yell at the others. i’m sure it was just an accident. we all have a lot going on these days,” you said.

“you sure? you know i don’t mind knocking their heads together every so often,” he said, and you nodded.

“i’m sure.”

you made it back to the flatiron building, and he let you inside first, holding the door open for you. then, you walked the flights of stairs together, and all was quiet. but this time, you weren’t bothered by it. when you made it to the final floor, the one with the group office, billy clapped you on the shoulder gently before pushing the door open.

“happy birthday, luv,” he said, and as you walked inside, everyone jumped out from behind the desks and couches in the room, yelling a synchronous ‘surprise!’.

“what the fuck!” you exclaimed, pressing a hand to your chest as billy came up behind you.

“you didn’t really think they forgot, did you?” he asked, and you turned to look up at him, with wide eyes.

“you knew?” you gasped.

“someone had to distract you long enough for these dickheads to decorate. the one thing they couldn’t manage on their own.”

“sorry we made you think otherwise,” hughie said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, and frenchie nodded, alongside m.m.

“with everything going on, it felt like a surprise party would be a good pick-me-up,” m.m explained, and you smiled a bit.

“well, i appreciate the thought. even if the day didn’t start out great, the second half was a lot better,” you said, glancing at billy, who offered a rare, genuine smile.

“enough sap, let’s get to the drinks,” he said, walking up beside you and setting an arm around your shoulders, leading you into the office, where you had the best party you’d ever had.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher fluff #billy butcher #the boys x reader #dawn.writes #ask from: seeingstarks

[umeoniii]

Can you do lesbian fluff (or smut) for the aot girls????

lesbian relationship hcs w aot girls

nsfw & sfw

w: annie, mikasa, sasha,

annie:

☆ very introverted obvi, but she can actually be very extroverted w her s/o

☆ prefers cute dates at food places like bakeries or sushi restaurants

☆ loves when her s/o makes her sweets

☆ for gifts i feel like she writes things, like letters or poems maybe even a song (probably too embarrassed to sing though)

☆ not the most affectionate but when she is she’s a lot, like a lil puppy dog

☆ sleeps a lot, she sleeps all over her s/o

she falls asleep on their lap, shoulders, stomach i feel like she’s a really sleepy girl

☆ likes hearing her s/o’s stories and adventures

she likes giving her input and opinions

☆ wears ur hoodies maybe bcs she likes the smell, maybe bcs their comfier, maybe bcs she likes bugging you

☆ gets flustered when you even show that you think abt her

☆ actually anything you do makes her flustered deep down

☆ takes turns w u giving back massages

☆ forcefully takes you w her to the gym

you don’t even have to work out but she still wants you there

☆ she lets you touch her abs, even though she finds it odd

~

♡ she’s more dominant BUT she can be more subby depending on how she’s feeling

♡ loud

♡ likes scissoring

♡ when she is feeling submissive she likes when her s/o eats her out

♡ owns a good amount of sex toys, she bought them really for you

♡ very great stamina

♡ can last a few rounds before getting overstimulated and tired

mikasa:

☆ little spoon when sleeping

☆ very introverted even with her s/o

☆ likes quite and secluded dates, like a picnic

☆ likes when you take photos of her but she doesn’t like for the whole world to see them

☆ makes things for her s/o

something as small as cookies or as big as a crocheted sweater

☆ type of gf who would share a milkshake willingly

☆ super cuddly and warm

☆ remembers lots of things abt you, some things you’d render “useless”

like you had a hamster named zunie in 5th grade

☆ has a playlist of songs that make her think of u

☆ let’s you pick out her outfits sometimes

☆ keeps all the plushies you’ve ever bought her

~

♡ sub

♡ whimpers and whines

♡ holds you very tightly

♡ sometimes she lowkey gets all somber and sad during sex whispering stuff like “please don’t leave me ever”

♡ sex is very intimate w her

♡ squirter

♡ when she is giving to her s/o she literally eats pussy like a starved woman

sasha:

☆ naggy loud gf

it’s very sweet though

☆ shows her s/o a lot of love…. a lot

she gives you wet kisses and blows raspberries into your tummy

☆ you guys alr know she likes dates at restaurants but i feel like she’d also like people watching, feeding ducks, or the movies. she likes fun stuff

☆ never a dull moment with her

☆ sleeps wildly, sometimes you just gotta sleep on the couch. she probably snores too.

☆ she’s the type to post all pictures of you for the world to see. ALL

☆ makes slideshows on stuff like why she thinks you guys should buy a roomba

☆ forces u to do couplely things like match outfits

☆ buys corny cards for holidays

“you’re purrfecf for me! love, sash”

☆ play wrestles

takes it way too far. she jumps off the couch and tries to body slam you

☆ if you have bigger boobs just know she’s not gonna leave em alone

she lies on them to sleep and she always just touches them and gropes them

she makes “jokes” about you breastfeeding her and calling you mommy (it’s not really a joke)

~ ♡ def calls you mommy in bed regardless of chest size

♡ with all the eating she does she’s gotta be able to eat pussy

♡ vv whiny

♡ sub

♡ cant last longer than around 2 minutes

♡ will literally touch herself right next to u in bed while you’re sleep

♡ puts whipped cream on your body and licks and eats it off

.

a/n: i am SO sorry this took so long, i literally got stuck and was gonna try and make this one super duper long but i gave up on it and finished it last .°(ಗдಗ。)° . i hope u enjoy it n’ if there’s another character u wanna see u can request it! <333

#umeswritin!~ #aot imagines #aot hcs #aot x female reader #aot x reader smut #aot smut #annie leonhardt x reader #snk annie #annie aot smut #annie snk #mikasa headcanons #mikasa x reader #mikasa smut #snk mikasa #sasha aot #sasha x reader #sasha smut aot #sasha braus x reader #sasha braus smut #sasha braus headcanons #wlw smut

[silent-raven13]

The Punks love Sunflower

(All the Hobies are from those concept art designs from the movie. There's many fan arts of them. One being from drenched-in-sunlight on here. I love their artworks.)

Miles never knew he would get this much attention, in fact he never thought he would be considered attractive. He wasn't handsome like Miguel or cute like Pav or cool like his Hobie. But here he is being swarm by multiple Hobies.

Hobie from Earth 138c having long thick locs with a half up half down hairstyle, he holds Miles' hand being romantic: Hello, gorgeous

Miles merely smile: Hello, I'm Miles from-

Hobie from Earth 138d with blond dies spike hair wearing one purple contacts and another black one: HI, Luv. Fancy meeting you here! -being louder and more cheerful out of the three-

Miles turns to him: H-hi! I'm from Ear-

Hobie Earth 138e having box breads with a red hair ties, his voice much deeper and calmer than the three: Black cat. -he's thinking out loud-

Miles: Huh?

Hobie 138e: Black cat... your cute like one... -he flirted-

Hobie 138c: Luv, are you single?

Hobie 138d: I saw him first!

Miles being handle by Hobies almost being too shy to give them an honest answer: Actually I have-

Hobie 138b, Miles' Hobie: Hey, you blokes! what in bloody hell are you doing? Dats my Sunflower! -He scowls being the jealous one- He's mine! -quickly hugging his boyfriend from behind-

The three Hobies laughs being mischievous: You can't have him all to yourself. You have to share! Right, Sunflower!

Miles: Hobie, it's okay. They are new here. -His boyfriend scowling at the three-

Hobie: How in the hell Mr. Grumps allow these blokes here? -hugging Miles tightly hearing the three mocking and flirting with his Miles-

Hobie 138c: Oy, that's insulting, mate. Right, Sunflower?

Hobie 138d laughs: Yeah, don't be a fucking wanker! Oy, sunflower, how about you show me around- you know, just me and you! -he flirted giving a wink-

Hobie 138e: Sunflower, I really like that name. It's perfect for you. -he stares into Miles' doe like eyes- Yet, you look like a deer. Can I call you, Bambi?

Miles: Huh, what? Me, Bambi? I don't think-

Hobie 138e: Bambi! That'll be your name from me to you -he winks at him-

Hobie scowls almost growling: No! His name is Sunflower!

Then the group was unaware of another Spider-Punk coming into the group: Who da fuck is this? -they all turns being surprised at the figure-

Hobie 138 with black hair and light skinned tone stood with his hands on his hips.

Miles: Oh, you're Hobie 138, huh! Miguel told me, you would arrived today! -his eyes big almost gleaming which caught off Hobie 138 off guard-

Hobie 138 crosses his arms being more of a jerk: Pfft, that's arse. Fuck, him. I got scold because I killed a dump anomaly.

Hobie 138c: Pfft, figures.

Hobie 138 looks at Miles: I'ma call you, Kat.

Miles: Huh?

Hobie scowls at Hobie 138: Da fuck you are. He's mine

Hobie 138's eyes darken: Huh? Are you telling me what to do? -These anarchist never likes being told what to do- I can call him whatever da fuck I want, mate! Right, Kat!

Miles: why Kat?

Hobie 138: Because you look like a cat!

Miles saw Hobie 138e chuckles: So I've been told...

Hobie picks up his Miles: He's mine! You blokes can't have him! -he runs off with Miles. The others follow him-

From afar Peter B. Parker arched his eyebrows at Miguel: I thought you hate Hobie.

Miguel: I don't hate him. He's a pain in the ass. It's good he gets humble. -slurping his milkshake-

Peter: That's why you invited all these punk spider people?

Miguel: Hobie needs to learn. -he slurps his milkshake-

Peter: Huh uh, so... Punk Miguel is part of your plan?

Miguel arched his eyebrow: Who?

Peter points at a younger Miguel dressed in punk fashion: Him!

Miguel: Fuck... -he forgot to double check the invite list-

Hobie runs holding Miles until Punk Miguel pick Miles from his arm: AYE! Who da fuck are you?

Punk Miguel speaking Spanish growing up in Mexico: Oye, este hombre te está molestando? -talking to Miles-

Miles' eyes widen at the tall younger Miguel. 18 year old Miguel O'Hara with a bit darker hair, dark brown eyes and piercings. His skin tone a bit darker than Miguel 2099: No-no, estoy bien!

All the Hobies stop scowling at Punk Miguel: Oy! Who da hell is him? -they already don't like Miguel 2099, now there's another him!-

Punk Miguel: Qué? -not great with English especially British. Hell, he hardly understand them- No entiendo.

Miles: Okay, everyone calm down! Let's be rea-

Hobie 138: Your a fucking poser, mate! Take that shit off! -pointing at Miguel's black leather jacket-

Punk Miguel scowls: Qué dijiste? -He knows what poser is and he hates that fucking word.-

Miles: Hey, guys! How about-

Punk Miguel place a kiss on Miles' cheek, all the Hobies glares harshly at him: Lo quieres? ¡Ven a por él! -he begins running while holding Miles just to pissed them off-

The Hobies chase after that asshole while Miles practically fainted by the drama: I give up!

Peter turns to Miguel 2099: Was this part of your plan?

Miguel sighs: No...

(Part 2)

#punkflower #flowerpunk #miles morales #hobie brown #spiderman #across the spider verse #spider verse

[britcision]

Hey guys

I have present for you

Not sure if there will be a WIP Wednesday this week since I’m con crunching and we leave on Thursday, soooo… this will tide you over I’m sure! The completed chapter 15!

Previous Chapter:

First chapter and AO3 link:

————-

I’ll Take The Highway

Time was almost slipping away too quickly in the milkshake bar, and Danny wished he didn’t have to keep an eye on it.

(Well. Seriously hoped. Even in the privacy of his head, he couldn’t make it a wish.)

He had to get Tucker back to MIT though, and back to Gotham in a reasonable time frame to get to bed before class tomorrow.

If he got to bed before midnight, there might be a chance for he and Jason to run to the Far Frozen in the morning. Or after, Danny’s classes didn’t run late. Or…

He was missing out on the fun today, trying to plan tomorrow. Much as Jazz would love him being more organised, he pushed it to the back of his mind.

They’d visit Frostbite soon. And find out how Jason’s core was, though Danny was beginning to think he knew. Here, when Jason was happy and relaxed? Not tensed, shut down, or angry?

Danny could definitely feel something he hadn’t before. Not exactly the same as another ghost, or any of the other halfas, not yet.

But it was almost like Box Lunch’s fresh core seen through a house of mirrors.

Maybe that was what had him so close to the edge today? It was taking some pretty serious effort not to react to even the mention of an old threat to Jason.

Jason, the sweet baby ghost.

And if his smile was a little sappy at that thought, well, that was no one’s business but his own. At least he had something to sit on for when his rogues started embarrassing baby stories.

Finally he couldn’t put it off anymore. Too much to do, friends to fly across country, and he still hadn’t found a good way to ask Waylon his question. He just… well.

He’d given Jason all the server info, the stuff about who his rogues were, how he beat them, the things they’d learned about the Infinite Realms. They’d even shared some stories around different bits.

That didn’t exactly explain what he wanted to ask Waylon about. And it really wasn’t something he was comfortable sharing just yet, even if he already knew it was dumb.

Jason was a good guy. Who hung out with Batman, who was apparently an asshole. He wouldn’t judge Danny for having some dark and fucked up stories in all the zany ones.

Fuck, maybe Waylon could tell him how Jason would react. It was gonna come up, it’d have to, and Danny really would feel better having someone else’s opinion.

He was reluctant to interrupt their good time, another story devolving into laughter, but it was getting into the afternoon and… well, he also had no idea how long this would take.

“Hey, uh, by the way. I’ve gotta head out in a bit, dropping Tuck back off in Massachusetts, I just wanted to talk to Waylon for a minute first? In private?” Because if Danny had learned one thing?

Direct worked best.

It worked now, Harley nodding along and hopping up, cartwheeling her way along the table and out of the booth.

“Say no more, Danno! C’mon, Jayjay, I wanted ta catch up with you on somethin’ too, so this works perfectly!” She declared cheerfully, giving Jason a fond tug to his fluffy white streak of hair.

Jason shot Danny a look that was half commiserating, half curious as he slid out of the both after her, but Danny was too busy staring into an imagined hellscape where Harley met Jack Fenton.

Fuck Dan, the world couldn’t handle that.

By the time he came back to himself, he and Waylon were alone in the booth, the big man watching him curiously.

“So, what’s on yer mind, kid?” He asked in a low voice, folding his arms on the edge of the table and leaning in.

Secret villain hideaway or not, this wasn’t something Danny wanted just anyone overhearing, so he beckoned Waylon closer to his end of the booth first, tucked into the wall.

The big guy slid his way surprisingly delicately down the seat, then leaned in again, watching Danny expectantly.

Which was when Danny realised he shoulda probably thought about a good way to put this.

Blunt it was gonna have to be.

“So… you… Harley said people called you Killer Croc before you ever hurt anyone?” He said in a rush, flinching at how bad it actually sounded said aloud.

Waylon… did not have eyebrows to raise, and it was really fucking weird that he was noticing that now, but it was definitely what he’d been doing, and Danny was distracting himself again.

“They did,” Waylon agreed a moment later, his voice low and even. Guard up, but not defensive. Not closing the topic off.

Danny huffed out a sigh, and found he couldn’t quite meet the man’s eyes. Found himself intently examining the diamond pattern on the formica tables. His own hands, twisting in front of him over that pattern.

“You… you became what they said you were. A monster.” The words caught in his throat, hard to spit out and shit he thought he was past this.

It had been years.

A scaled green hand covered his, and Danny found himself surprised by how smooth the scales were. Far from soft, but not rough. Almost smoother than the table.

“Who called you a monster, kid?” Waylon asked softly, his voice gruff with something too close to understanding.

Danny’s head snapped up and he shook it quickly, sucking in a deep breath.

“Oh, no one. Not for like, a really long time now. And they said sorry and everything, it’s not that. It’s… you gave into it. Let them make you something wrong and dangerous, and you stopped. How did you stop?” He asked quietly, finally finding it easier to look at Waylon’s face.

He looked surprised.

**

Finding Jason had been harder than usual. He’d never turned his phone back on after last night, and Bruce was still wrestling with one of his least favourite (and most common) side effect of a concussion; light sensitive headaches.

Even with the screen brightness all the way down, it was hard to even look at the batcomputer while he waited for Constantine to arrive.

None of his usual tricks were helping, spikes of pain jabbing behind his eyes every time he tried to scan the cameras for Jason’s presence.

It was Babs who found him in the end, taking her lunch at the library late to help him out. She had whole programs to scan the security cameras of Gotham for her, trained to recognise any bat or rogue from any angle.

False positives happened, but usually didn’t take more than a look to confirm or deny. They were extremely accurate.

Bruce would know.

He had copies of the same programs.

They just weren’t running properly.

He was probably still tired. He’d been pushing himself while injured, as usual, and as usual Alfred would be eager to tell him he’d been overtaxing himself too hard to work efficiently.

And then Constantine was late.

By the time the magician arrived, Bruce was regretting having taken a break to sleep at all. He should have sorted this out last night, before ever calling Jason.

They could have picked a time to meet, and while Bruce was fully aware Jason might have just told him to fuck off, he might not have. Especially if Bruce had promised to leave him alone.

He knew better than to ask Jason to introduce Danny to Constantine.

Barbara had generously kept an eye on Jason in the interim, and by the time Batman and Constantine were ready to go he seemed to have settled in Freeze’s place.

The Frozen Fields. Named for his wife, who Bruce’s top scientists still wouldn’t be able to save.

Along with Harley, Waylon Jones, and Danny.

Of course he was with Danny.

Half the city seemed to be intent on frustrating him today. They’d taken the Batmobile, and while he tended to only drive it in emergencies (and after dark), it still barely sped the journey through the city traffic.

It always felt wrong, sitting and waiting with the rest of the cars in the Batmobile. Didn’t match the “lurking justice in the shadows”. Which Constantine was quick to remind him.

Bruce just gripped the steering wheel tighter, sucked in a deep breath, and nearly bit his tongue when they finally edged up to an intersection only for the light to turn red.

**

Waylon sat back in his seat, back scraping against the wall of the booth as he surveyed the kid in front of him.

Little squirt was tougher ‘n he looked, that much was definitely true. Harley had given him the short run down on their way to the milkshake bar, all the powers she knew he had.

And that he’d been hunted by his folks for a while. Waylon knew how that kinda shit could mess ya up.

He appreciated the heads up too, cuz this kinda shit coming up outta nowhere? Also pretty damn rough. He’d wondered if the kid just wanted to come along for another fight.

If he just wanted another chance to say he’d looked Killer Croc in the eye.

But there was no real bravado there, not even when he challenged Waylon to a rematch. Shit, the kid treated him more normal than most of his henchmen had ever managed to.

Made sense, knowing he was part a ghost an’ fought ghost rogues, but it left Waylon wondering. Apparently he was getting his answer.

Same damn question he’d asked himself a thousand times, ‘specially around the kind of young vigilantes who’d taken a turn to the bad.

Didn’t mean he had a good answer.

He regarded the kid for a long minute, watching the fidgeting, the sudden shyness from a boy who’d literally tackled him from behind on a whim.

This wasn’t just an idle question. Something made him sure of that, and he’d never been involved in all that much of the really weird shit. You heard stories, especially in Arkham.

So he decided to give the kid the best answer he had.

“Cuz I was the worst version of myself. I let myself be the monster they thought I was, got pretty good at it. But it never made me happy.” He paused, mulling it over.

Chuckled softly and looked down into his half drunk milkshake. It was kinda funny how obvious it seemed, in hindsight.

“Shit, there was never even anythin’ I wanted. Not like Penguin, Freeze, or the others. People treated me like a monster so I tried to be one, cuz why the hell not? Couldn’t be worse, could it?”

His gaze shifted back to Danny’s face, watching the kid’s expression. No judgement, which was nice. But he did look confused.

“So you just… got sick of it?” Danny asked, his brows furrowed as he played with his fingers.

Waylon chuckled and shook his head.

“Kinda. Spent a while thinkin’ if people couldn’t treat me with respect, fear’d do. But it ain’t the same. An’ I never had the drive or creative cruelty to stand out in Gotham.”

Danny looked a little incredulous at that, eyebrows rising, but he caught himself before commenting. Snickered and shook his head.

“Yeah, I guess being in a city that’s used to people like Scarecrow and the Joker puts “big and green” into perspective,” he agreed dryly, and Waylon laughed.

It felt good to laugh.

“Oh yeah. City’s got more than its share of low level thugs anyway. I spent a while as extra muscle for the big boys, but I ain’t the takin’ orders sort,” he explained with a modest shrug.

Danny grinned, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“What, a shy and retiring guy like you?” He asked, clearly teasing, and Waylon waved a hand dismissively.

“I’m lucky it was Gotham,” he added after a moment, reflection sobering his mood. “Got sent t’ Arkham. Met Harley. An’ the Bat’s not all that bad. He tried gettin’ me outta the life a couple times.”

Danny cocked his head, a slight frown returning to his face. Following Waylon’s lead.

“How did Batman try and get you out?” There was a little too much intensity for it to be a casual question, and Waylon noted it. Not that he’d figure it out on his own.

Just tryin’ to make sure he didn’t damage the kid.

“Oh, there were a couple ways. Got me moved down to Florida once. Out in the green, away from people. I figured bein’ a wild animal might be more my speed, but it wasn’t. An’ it got messy when I left. Like that whatever he tried, really. There’s lines you can’t uncross.”

Lines like being a cannibal.

Not that he was sobbin’ on a preacher’s shoulder about it. Most of the people he’d eaten were assholes who’d deserved it, and it’d been a preference, not a need.

For all people loved to go on about him eatin’ kids and babies, he’d never actually done it. A guy had to have standards.

Made it easy to stop, once he was in a better head space. He and Harley had talked a lotta old shit out.

Kid didn’t need to know those grisly details though, at least not from his own mouth. Watching Danny a moment longer, Waylon came to a decision.

“Look, kid. There’s a lotta reasons people go bad. Some of ‘em can’t be helped. But if they’re not gettin’ anything out of it, if there’s no goal? The appeal runs out. And sometimes all it takes is someone willin’ to reach down an’ haul yer back up to the light.”

He wouldn’t ask if that was the case with whoever the kid wanted to help. Everyone heard stories, ‘specially about heroes meeting their evil selves.

The fear looked personal, but the asking coulda been for anyone. Waylon was in no rush to judge.

Danny mulled over his words for a while, lips moving soundlessly as he frowned down at the table. This time when he looked up, there was a peace in his eyes.

He’d come to a decision. Good for him.

“Thanks, Waylon. You seem like a pretty great guy to me,” he said simply, and Waylon definitely did not feel a lump in his throat.

“This is after years o’ Harley workin’ on me,” he grumbled gruffly. Shaking his head, he slurped down the last of his milkshake quickly.

Nothing like brain freeze to explain being a little misty eyed.

**

Jason didn’t exactly object to being led out of the bar by Harley; Danny wanted to talk to Waylon in private.

Jason had figured Danny had something to ask the guy about. He hadn’t exactly expected not to be part of the conversation, but that was fine.

He’d know if Danny got into trouble. Fuck, Danny could handle any trouble Gotham could dish out, probably. And the rogues had some basic manners; not starting shit in Freeze’s place was one of them.

Penguin might put the squeeze on and make your life uncomfortable if you lit up the Iceberg Lounge. Dr Freeze’s cold shoulder was a lot more literal, and he didn’t do “proportional response”.

So yeah, he could be cool and give Danny some space.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise that Harley wanted to talk to him either, although he still didn’t see the point. But he let her guide him around the side of the building to a back alley anyway.

“Still fine, Harley,” he said before she could get started, both hands raised in front of him.

She gave him an all too knowing look and hopped up to sit on the dumpster. Put her about a head taller than him. Not that he cared.

“Sure, kid. You’ve been goin’ through a lot though, so I gotta ask; is there anythin’ ya wanna talk to Auntie Harley about?” She asked in her sweetest voice, interlacing her fingers under her chin and batting her lashes.

Jason snickered and leaned against the other side of the alley.

Shit, he wasn’t even annoyed with her play acting. The pit was a happy little puddle in his chest, all sunshine and roses.

A week ago he’d have walked away. Been pissed at wasting his time, getting in his way. How much of that had been because of the Lazarus pits, the problems with the ectoplasm he’d apparently been supposed to be solving?

Was that why nothing had ever been enough? Why he always had to keep pushing? Carve himself a patch of Gotham, keep going. Cut the crime out of Crime Alley, not enough.

Take up with the Outsiders, keep himself busy, rushed off his feet so that when he fell into bed for a couple hours a day he didn’t even dream?

When was the last time he’d taken a breath and just… relaxed? It all felt so long ago, but it had barely been a week.

It just. His whole life had unclenched, like it was a muscle he’d finally stopped using.

Fuck, maybe he should talk to Harley about it.

He got the feeling she knew though, those eagle eyes tracking his every move. They’d never really hung out, but he was uncomfortably aware of how well she’d known him.

How much of him was still the boy she’d known?

She was waiting for an answer, and all of a sudden Jason wasn’t sure what he’d say. Knew that if anyone in the world understood, it just might be Dr Harleen Quinzel.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck, unable to meet her eyes. Fuck, he was getting as bad as Bruce.

And if that thought didn’t kick him up the ass…

“You ever wake up one day and realise your whole life’s been going wrong?” He finally asked, glancing up from the corner of his eye.

She’d dropped the cutesy act, leaning forward with her arms braced on the edge of the dumpster, her face professionally calm. Open. Sympathetic.

“Think I might know just a lil about what that’s like,” she agreed softly, and Jason snorted.

“Yeah. Well. Turns out ever since I came back from the dead I’ve been haunted. Literally. And no one ever noticed.”

He hadn’t even come all the way back, but he couldn’t say that. Not yet. But maybe he could share some of the rest.

Harley nodded slowly, giving him her full attention. Just waiting for him to go on.

It kinda felt like being under a microscope, but not in the cold, analytical way Bruce did that always pissed him off. Like she really cared, and was looking for all his broken parts so she could help him fit them back together.

Fuck, if his kid self had ever known he’d one day trust Harley Quinn over the whole Justice League…

Shit, he didn’t even know how much she already knew.

“The pit rage… it’s a psychosis people get, coming out of the Lazarus pit. Makes you angry, violent, stronger, like a blind rage. For most people it goes away. Mine didn’t.”

He almost wanted to laugh, bitter and sharp.

“Because it wasn’t just the psychosis. I’m not fucking weak, I’m not fucking broken, there’s something else living inside me and it made me so fucking angry all the time…”

The frustration was building again, but this time it was his. All his, not a bubble, not a stir, and part of Jason thrilled with it. He could feel however he wanted, just him.

He cut it off though, forcing himself to relax before Danny could notice. Could worry about whatever he was projecting in his aura.

He could kinda still feel Danny’s, which was new. Not brushing against his, not touching like they were close, but he was aware in a way he hadn’t been before.

Like if he shut his eyes he could point in exactly the direction Danny was standing.

“Danny’s the only one who noticed. Well, really, he’s the only one who could. It’s a ghost thing, and he… he got me help. I feel like myself for the first time since… since I came back.”

He hadn’t even noticed how much the background rage burnt through him until it stopped. Until he could look at his family and see their prodding for what it was; concern.

It was still surprising him, and maybe would for a while. Kinda hoped not though. It wasn’t the most cheerful train of thought.

Seeing that he’d run out of words, Harley gave him a moment to find more, then reached over and ruffled his hair. It was barely a strain in the cramped alley.

“Kid, anyone with two eyeballs t’ rub together can see Danny’s real good for ya. So why’s Bruce tryin’ so hard to keep ya apart?” She asked gently, and Jason snorted.

Rolled his eyes and folded his arms, caught himself doing it, and forced them back to his sides.

“Not rubbing his eyeballs together?” He asked dryly. Harley just snickered.

“Please, if we could get ‘im ta stop overanalysing everything that’d be the miracle. So what’s got ‘im on edge?”

Jason hesitated for a long moment, thinking about it. Finally he shrugged; as always, Bruce was a mystery to him. The man who’d taught him all the tricks to pick apart any mystery. Except himself.

“No idea. We played a prank on him and the Mansons at the gala like we told you last night?” He offered, already aware it wasn’t likely to be the answer.

Harley shook her head in agreement, which almost threw him off.

“Nah, you’re right. The whole making-out-in-a-closet shtick is classic, even if he didn’t see through it yet he’s never cared about you boys smoochin’ before,” she agreed, then sighed and tugged him in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Whatever his problem is though, it is his problem Jason, an’ what he pulled at the gala has nothin’ t’ do with you or Danny. I already told ‘im off about not talkin’ to ya and I’m gonna do it again when I catch him. Right now I just wanna hear you say you know it ain’t your fault,” she told him firmly, cheeks held between both hands.

Jason fought the urge to roll his eyes. And the rising lump in his throat.

“I know Bruce’s bullshit isn’t my fault, Harley,” he grumbled through smushed lips. Harley squeezed his cheeks a little tighter.

“Then say it anyway. It ain’t your fault Brucie has a bug in his ass, and ya ain’t done anything wrong to deserve it.” She was firm as the wall behind him, utterly unrelenting.

And she could go on for hours, if memory served. Long enough for Danny to come out and see. That was why Jason told himself he gave in.

Nothing at all to do with the way her words ached and bled a gentle warmth into the icy void in his gut where the anger still roiled.

“It’s not my fault B’s got the emotional capacity of a wet newspaper. I don’t deserve his helicopter bullshit any more than anyone else,” he told her obediently, doing his best not to be too sarcastic.

Harley placed a kiss on his nose and released him.

“That’s my good boy. Now, more about this haunted thing. You boys got a plan?” She asked sharply, head cocked as she watched his face.

Cheeks red, Jason leaned back against his wall and pretended it made him out of reach.

“We do,” he said curtly, looking down at the trash strewn ground. Trying to explain it now would take too long, Danny would be out soon.

Of course Harley noticed, nodding thoughtfully and leaning back, kicking her legs.

“Well, if ya ever want to tell me more, you’ve got my number. An’ I’ll get Brucie off ya back for a while, even if I’ve gotta call in the Boy Scout. Whatever you aren’t tellin’ ‘im, don’t let ‘im rush ya,” she told him firmly. Jason had to smile.

“Aren’t you the one always telling us to communicate?” He asked half rhetorically. Harley grinned and hopped off her dumpster, making her way to the front of the alley.

“It only works if ya wait til you’re ready. Pushin’ an’ rushin’ only makes it worse,” she explained airily, stepping out into the street.

Turning, and freezing like a hound on a scent. Eyes narrowed, she patted Jason on the chest as he stepped out after her, not turning her head.

“Jason darlin’, be a dear an’ run get Auntie Harley her bat. The bike’s parked ‘round the back,” she said ever so sweetly, and that tone combined with the narrow eyed glare meant Jason knew exactly who she was looking at before he turned.

He did it anyway, eyes widening as he caught sight of Batman, in full gear, coming down the street towards them. Accompanied by John Fucking Constantine.

Had he seriously come to chase him away from Danny in person? In fucking costume?

The anger surged, his and the pit’s, held back only by the small woman in front of him. The dainty hand on her chest, that’d turn into an iron bar if he pushed it.

Sure, she couldn’t actually hold him back, but she didn’t need to. Whatever Jason wanted to say or do to Bruce, Harley could do a whole lot worse.

Anger melding into a vicious satisfaction, he turned straight back down the alley with a spring in his step.

**

Bruce was a little relieved to arrive outside the bar and see Jason already there. Batman walking in wouldn’t have been out of the question, but he’d rather avoid the theatrics.

Danny not being in sight didn’t come into the decision one bit.

But then Harley said something to Jason and he turned away, leaving immediately. Bruce sped up, planning to follow Jason down the alley-

“Hold ya horses, Batsy,” Harley snapped, stepping directly into his path. He could have gone around her, certainly, but he stopped.

If there was even a chance he could get her on side, that would help immensely.

“I just need to talk to Jason,” he said in Batman’s low growl. Constantine had stopped too, well back of whatever was going to happen.

At least he wasn’t a complete fool.

Harley folded her arms, giving him her very least impressed look.

“An’ if the words you’re sayin’ ain’t “I’m so sorry please forgive me I’ll never do it again”, ya don’t actually need to. Ya need ta speak to me.”

Bruce almost frowned at her words. Why now? They’d spoken before, but she’d seemed satisfied. What had changed between now and their last conversation?

Batman’s face remained impassive as ever.

“Harley. It’s important.”

“He wants me to give the kid a magic checkup,” Constantine put in from behind him, still well back. He waved at Harley when she glanced his way.

Harley’s eyes narrowed for a moment and then Jason was jogging back down the alley, holding her bat.

What the hell had changed since their last conversation?

Pinning Constantine with a piercing glare, she held it for a minute before turning her attention back to Bruce. Snapping her fingers in front of his mask before he could even open his mouth.

“Uh uh! Johnny needs ta talk to him fer that, not you. YOU need to come talk ta me. Now.” She held out her other hand without looking, and Jason slipped the bat into it.

Had he really upset Jason that much at the gala? He’d thought he understood about the public apology, but this felt… well, worse than he’d expected.

More urgent. More vehement. She was more angry than she had been.

He’d gone wrong again, some time between now and then, and he had a Justice League meeting in an hour. Less, counting in the travel time back to the nearest zeta terminal.

Did he have time for this?

Jason was glaring at him, flat and unfriendly, but with a decided undercurrent of anticipation. Bruce’s presence would only make Constantine’s job harder.

Ignoring the part of him that thought the magician deserved to have it a lot harder, he nodded and refocused his attention on Harley.

“Fine. Here?” Better to get this over with. He could put aside all of his personal thoughts and feelings for the meeting, but at least he’d have answers.

Harley gave the surrounding street another sharp look, then shook her head, crooked her fingers, and led him into the alleyway.

“We’ll go ‘round the back. You’re bad for business,” she told him archly, and Bruce followed without a word.

He didn’t tell Jason to stay and speak to Constantine; he was self aware enough to know that would have the opposite effect. The magician would just have to sort himself out.

Part of him almost hoped she would actually use the bat this time. It served its purpose as a visual symbol, but everything made much more sense when people just wanted to beat him up.

Navigating their emotions and separate interior lives and expectations was… messy.

**

Constantine and Jason stared at each other for a long moment after Harley and the Bat disappeared down the alley.

Then Constantine sighed and nodded after them.

“If they’re goin’ round back, we can take this off the main street. If you don’t mind?” Not that the boy had much choice.

They’d caught him unmasked, which raised again the fuckin’ question of why Batt-o was so intent on being masked up for this one.

Maybe he just didn’t want to change. It looked like a lot of kohl on under that mask. Probably took a while to switch in and out.

Jason narrowed his eyes back for a moment, then shrugged. His whole posture still screamed annoyance and aggression, but moved back into the side alley anyway.

“Whatever. Not too far though. I need to hear if my friends leave.” There was something about the agreement that didn’t quite sit right for John.

Too easy. He didn’t have much (any) experience with the kid, never having willingly gotten near a revenant, but… well, this? This was weirdly passive.

When he’d seen the kid coming back with a weapon, that had made sense. He’d half expected Jason to take a swing personally; the dead-or-dead-aligned tended to have a different understanding of acceptable violence.

Handing it off to Harley was basically trading a gun for a nuke, but he didn’t seem at all upset that it hadn’t been used. Hadn’t gone for Batman’s throat, no matter how much Harley seemed to think he’d be justified.

What the hell did the Bat do now?

Something was off with Jason, something that made Constantine almost rethink his earlier guess.

Kid dies, shows back up a couple years later in a storm of blood and violence, demanding revenge? Yeah, that was classic revenant. Physical body, jacked beyond anything the kid shoulda grown into? Ditto.

Even the rage the Leaguers reported checked the boxes, but a revenant shouldn’t be this calm. Not in the face of any kind of threat.

Good news, really; he probably wouldn’t go for Constantine’s throat. John was more than happy with that, though he did regret getting the Bat all worked up.

Not that there was another version of the story Batman might take better, mind. Whatever the hell Jason Todd was, the kid wasn’t human anymore, and for ol’ Batsy the rest of the details didn’t much matter.

They got out of sight of the main thoroughfare, Jason leaning back against a wall with his arms folded and a smirk on his face that was just all challenge.

Constantine didn’t rise to it, brows furrowing as he raised a hand and murmured the beginnings of a spell.

Felt it instantly crash around him, smacked down by a power so titanic he’d have fallen if the side of a dumpster hadn’t caught him. A power so old, so wrought with death, so fucking familiar that it blacked out every sense.

No way in fucking hell any kind of fucking revenant, wraith, zombie, ghost, anything could leave that taste in his mouth. No, that? That was a personal signature.

And not something that could be done lightly either. A power like that… no, this power, Constantine knew exactly whose it was.

This kind of power, reacting this strongly? This instantly, even here on Earth? That was the full force of the Infinite Realms, which had to mean…

Eyes wide and shaken, John scrabbled at the lid for support, staring at Jason. Who actually looked more than a little surprised himself.

It took him a moment to find the words, longer to steady the shake in his voice.

“You… you… holy fucking hells, Jason, do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve bound your fuckin’ soul to-”

“The same guy you sold yours to?” Jason drawled, raising an eyebrow.

And alright, fair, that was a pretty good fuckin’ point, but Constantine was well aware he was a dire warning, not a good example.

Damn hard to argue that to a smugly reclining something-or-other that had bound himself so tightly to that same king that John couldn’t even do a gentle magical probe.

He’d been planning on being polite and everything. Noninvasive, Jason wouldn’t even feel it.

Shit, had he felt the spell shut down too? Constantine was about to ask, but Jason wasn’t done talking. Or smirking, looking distinctly amused that he’d shut the mouthy magician up.

“Did you know he owns your soul eleven times by now? That seems a little low to me, surely you’re down to hocking scraps,” Jason noted with a dry chuckle.

Constantine shrugged defensively, well aware that his battered soul was nothing to write home about. Still mostly trying to work out what the fuck was going on.

What use would the Ghost King have for a bat? A use important enough to fold Jason, who’d only be risen six years, into the high court?

Sure, the kid was good, he’d proved that in Gotham’s underworld, but to the Realms? He was barely an infant, and cuttin’ off heads would not impress there.

“No one buys just a piece of a soul. Every deal’s for the whole thing, which is why they keep me alive rather’n letting me kick it and tearin’ up the bits,” he explained distractedly, giving Jason another slow once over.

The good news was, nothing about the guy smelled like a revenant. There was power there, sure, a hint of a magical signature just on the borders of recognizable, but he couldn’t quite pin it down.

Jason hummed in acknowledgement, or maybe interest, but Constantine needed him to keep talking. Needed more clues to work out what the fuck this guy was.

“Pretty sure I haven’t had anyone make the same deal eleven times though,” he commented cautiously, trying to appear as casual as Jason while watching him closely, wishing he’d accepted some bat-training, “most people only make that mistake once.”

“Yeah, I asked about that,” Jason agreed with a dry chuckle, and the bottom fell out of Constantine’s stomach.

A position that let him backtalk the king of the Infinite Realms? Triple not good, not least because that lot were volatile and fuckin’ possessive, but not more so than goddamn Batman.

“Apparently people handed you over for some kind of tax season. You’re a low value trading card over there at this point.”

And that knocked every other thought out of Constantine’s head as he straightened, unreasonably affronted.

It’d be fucking nice to be low value. People might ignore him.

And since when did the Infinite Realms collect taxes?

“Low value? Princes of Hell are fightin’ over my damn soul, it’s the only thing keeping me kickin’,” he protested, and Jason snickered.

Gave John a smug, superior smile.

“And ten entities gave your soul up for tax breaks. Let’s face it, it’s not like you have rarity on your side,” he pointed out smugly.

“It’s still only one soul,” Constantine pouted idly, his mind suddenly spinning mile a minute with the implications.

The kid couldn’t have had this much presence last night, whatever else was true. John would have noticed.

It might just have been now that he knew to look for it, but Jason practically glowed with the essence of the Realms. He’d also somehow not just gotten himself bound to the Ghost King, he had a position where he could question them.

And have his questions answered, if not hugely coherently. Maybe that was just the translation through Jason, though.

That could be a good thing. A good sign at least, for the temperament of the new king. Pariah Dark never listened to questions by all accounts; people never got the opportunity to ask. He just conquered.

Of course, John knew enough magical entities to know that “willing to talk” did not mean, friendly, helpful, safe, or even “not prone to constant and complex lies”.

Thing was, he could handle liars. Tricksters. Anything of the sort, usually, cuz if nothing else? Being willing to talk before shooting meant Constantine had a chance to confuse them.

He was bloody good at that, all else notwithstanding. Almost his most useful talent.

It might be worth trying to find a little more about the Ghost King. Doubly if Jason was willing to help, but that’d have to be careful. No way to know what the kid had accidentally sworn to on that soul bond.

Hell, how was he gonna work out what the kid even was with magic off the table? It’d be back to the fuckin’ books and Undead 101.

At least he was still in his own body. That put a limit on the possibilities, but there were still a lot of options. Bats was going to be unbearable.

Because worse yet… the one thing John did know, with absolute certainty, was that the kid was getting stronger. If he hadn’t manifested any powers yet, it was just a matter of time.

Whatever Jason was, whatever deal he’d managed to pull, the damn halfa wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. Something was feeding the power in him, whatever had yanked him back to the land of the living to start with.

Plus side? Batty could get off his ass about the kids hanging out. Jason had already taken a fuckin’ jet across whatever influence hanging out with a ghost could do, and pushed right the way to the other side.

He might as well be fuckin’ drinking ectoplasm at this point. Kid could carry Danny around on his back and not make a lick of difference.

Course, if it was the halfa who got the kid to make his deal… well, Batman would have another reason to worry about them hangin’ out together, but the damage was already done.

It wasn’t a soul buy, not to John’s experienced eye. Not a leash around the kid’s neck, not a claim stamped into his being. If anything, this was worse.

Somehow Jason had gotten himself so tightly wrapped to the Ghost King that the other’s power all but flowed in his veins. Even from here, far from the Realms, Constantine didn’t even finish the spell before it was smacked down.

That… that was new. Nothing he’d ever seen before, and he was well used to possessive metaphysical assholes who didn’t like anyone else touchin’ their shit.

Fuck, did Jason even know?

Constantine sucked in a breath and gave damn near instantly on even trying to form a tactful question a bat would understand. Kid was playing in his kiddy pool now, like it or not, and John had to know how deep he’d gone.

“So what deal did you make?” He asked bluntly. Not that Jason apparently minded in the least, still smirking as he gave the magician a cool once over.

“Y’know, I’m pretty sure it’s rude to ask. Not discussing paychecks and all that,” he drawled casually, eyes still dark with that barely covered aggression.

Constantine rolled his eyes.

“I had three princes of Hell gettin’ a little too cozy and a cursed rock lookin’ to turn the world to pink tourmaline. The Ghost King was big enough to shut ‘em up and let me push the rock to a different dimension where it’s never gonna be our problem again. Now quit bein’ an ass, I know a lot more about this kinda shit and I can tell ya if they hid any clauses.”

That did shut Jason up, the kid’s eyes widening for a moment like he hadn’t expected Constantine to share.

Tough titties for him, John already knew Batman was gonna be a bitch about this so doing the due diligence early? Pretty much their only hope.

He considered it longer than John thought was justified, since it was inarguable. John Constantine, soul selling expert. He should have business cards made.

Finally the kid shrugged. He still looked prickly, defensive, but he was listening.

“Well I didn’t sell him my fucking soul.” Which.

John stared at him, mouth agape. Snapped shut and narrowed his eyes.

“Kid, you could not be more marked if you wore a neon sign. You signed something over, the Ghost King ain’t the sort to give prizes for free.”

A Ghost King Jason seemed to think was a he, so that was a useful little piece of intel. He’d definitely know better than John if they were already on ask-questions stage.

Jason scowled and shrugged, arms still crossed.

“Lucky me. Protection from big scary human wizards, for the low low price of my service. And some help with my Lazarus problem,” he added, as if the last was the only part he though worth mentioning.

Constantine sagged back against the wall, sinking down to sit on the alley floor. Bracing his elbows on his knees he ran both hands through his hair, holding his head up.

“Great… just fucking great,” he muttered, voice muffled by his new position. Part of him wanted to laugh, but he was pretty sure it’d come out a sob.

Hysteria beckoned.

Jason made another noise that might almost have been concern, and Constantine forced himself to suck in a breath. To keep it together.

Forced his head up so he could glare at the kid who now looked just way too confused.

“You get that that’s worse, right?” He snapped, eyes narrowing. “You get that selling yourself into service is fucking worse?”

Jason glared back down at him, drawing himself up like size and muscle was gonna impress a magician.

(It might have if Jason was a decade or two older, but not the way the kid intended.)

“What the fuck d’you think will happen when he takes your soul?” He snapped back, aggression rising fast enough that Constantine forced himself to stop again.

Deep breath in. Hold. Out.

One more in. Hold. Out.

He got to ten, the kid watching him with visible confusion, deflating the longer John went without pushing back. Yippee for him.

When he thought he had his voice under control again, John forced himself to his feet.

“I sell my soul, and if anyone ever actually claims the damn thing they can do whatever they want to it for eternity. It’ll fuckin’ suck, kid, but the one thing they can’t do, no matter who it is?”

He just sounded tired now, which only wrong footed Jason even more. Why had he even gotten out of bed at all?

Maybe if he left now he could just go back. Tuck himself up in the House of Mystery, feed his League communicator to something pandimensional, and just hide for a while.

The Bat would probably come after him.

Taking another bolstering breath, John did his best to sound calm. Not patronising. Because the kid damn near definitely had no idea.

Which was why people should leave magic to the fuckin’ professionals.

Catching Jason’s eye, he held it, hoping to impress the seriousness of what he was about to say into the kid’s soul.

“They cannot compel me to action. They can try all sorts of force, all sorts of fucked up shit, but I get the last say. They say jump, I say fuck off, no jump. But selling service?”

Jason’s eyes had widened now, and John could just see all those little wheels turning. Well, set the little fuckers spinnin’ faster.

“They say jump, you’re on the way up before you can ask “how high?”. I dunno what you think you signed up for, kid, I dunno what deals with the new king are like cuz I didn’t fuckin’ ask. But you get a copy of the damn contract and bring it back to me. I’ll see if there’s anything we can do about it.”

It was the only logical option, especially with an entity this powerful. Constantine was betting the kid’s hatred of being used, being controlled, would make him agree even if he hated it.

He probably could have been nicer, though.

Jason’s eyes flashed, actually flashed a bright, ecto green as he shot John a glare that promised bloody dismemberment.

There was something else too, something that definitely wasn’t there a second ago but filled the alley now. Something hot and angry and powerfully vicious, something that wanted his blood.

If there were space to back up, he would have. As it was, he let his hand slip behind his back, ready to teleport. He had no doubt that any kind of binding would meet exactly the same fate his inquiry had.

Even in civvies, Jason Todd cut a menacing figure as he stalked the two steps across the alley to put himself directly in Constantine’s face.

“For fuck’s sake, I am not a fucking child! I don’t need you to hold my hand, I don’t need your fucking help, and I don’t need your fucking permission to live my fucking life!”

Constantine actually leaned back, his head brushing the wall behind him as Jason shoved a finger into his face, his every muscle taut with barely restrained violence.

“Like you just fucking said, you don’t know shit! So maybe, just fucking once, the whole fucking lot of you sit the fuck down, shut the fuck up, and stay out of my fucking way!”

This close, Constantine could feel Jason’s hot breath on his face. This close… something clicked.

He could feel Jason’s anger, projecting out of him in a way that definitely wasn’t human. Choking and visceral and absolutely nothing like the pulsating bloody rage that forced itself down his throat.

There was something fucking else inside Jason. Something that tasted of the Infinite Realms and wanted his head on a stick.

Something that wasn’t the Ghost King. Didn’t carry the touch of his claim.

John was about to teleport away, fuck Batman and all of Gotham, when Jason turned around sharply and marched out of the alley. Almost like the kid was running.

Slumping back against the wall, John Constantine closed his eyes and breathed in the city smogs, only happy that none of it actively wanted his blood.

**

Harley let Batman precede her around the milkshake bar to the parking lot at the back, a quick glance confirming that they were alone.

For the best, really; anyone present might get entirely the wrong idea.

Taking a casual roll of the wrist for added momentum, Harley took a quick shot at the back of Batty’s knee, stepping up quickly beside him to use the return swing to catch him in the gut.

Caught off guard, he crumpled, landing on one knee and glaring up at her.

“Harley…” he growled, and her eyes narrowed.

She’d done this the nice way last night. He hadn’t listened, so now they were doing it his way.

“Batsy,” she shot back, cutting him off quick and direct. Tapped her bedazzled bat gently off her other hand. “We had us a talk already this week.”

No specific times; not in an unsecured location. He’d know anyway.

From his silence, he wasn’t quite ready to admit it. But he didn’t try to rise. Conflicted, then.

Like that was new.

Harley pressed the bat gently under his chin, tipping his head up to face her.

“And yet somehow, despite you assurin’ me you’d listened real close, a mister Jason Todd is out here tellin’ me you tried to ban him from hangin’ out with his new boyfriend?” She asked sugar-sweet, her expression all danger.

She could just about see the moment it sank into his head. Even with his actual eyes covered, that cowl was still plenty expressive.

Kinda freakishly expressive. Not ideal for the crime fighting to her mind, but what would she know? She much preferred committing the crimes.

He tried to argue, frown so deep he’d have wrinkles within the day.

“This has nothing to do with that, the Fenton boy is dangerous to his condition-”

Harley cut him off by poking the end of her bat almost into his mouth, her eyes narrowed. And sure, she was bein’ delicate with his head outta concern for that concussion, but there were limits.

“An’ what d’you think ya know about Jason’s condition that a half dead kid don’t?” She asked sceptically.

Batman hesitated. If he pushed the bat away, they’d have an actual fight on their hands. One he might let her win, if he just needed the tussle.

She’d never known a man so eager to have someone put him on his ass, and so incapable of ever lettin’ it actually happen. Well, other than Jason.

Musta run in the family.

Bruce sagged back, sat on the cracked asphalt of the parking lot.

“Constantine believes that Danny’s energy may strengthen something inside Jason. Something dangerous,” he explained, still in Batman’s rough growl.

She was gonna get him a vocoder. Just for shits and giggles.

Fuck, was that why Jason wore the whole helmet for Hoody? Now that she thought of it, there was a voice changer in there.

Two cranky little peas in matching muscly pods.

She dropped to sit cross legged on the ground across from him, bat laying in front of her. Talkin’ again, take two. Time to make it stick.

“Have you actually talked to Jason about this?” She asked sceptically.

The eye slits in the cowl narrowed. Harley was not impressed.

“Have you talked to him at all, since he an’ Danny have been hangin’ out?”

Bruce glared at her for a moment longer. Did not fold his arms or pout, but she could tell he wanted to.

“I spoke with him last night. He’s irrational, angry, unwilling to listen to reason…”

“He’s sick of ya tellin’ him you know what’s best and not listenin’ ta what’s wrong,” Harley corrected flatly.

Watched his shoulders sink just a little. As much as he could deflate in the suit. Even his growl lost most of its sandpaper.

“He said Danny was taking him to a doctor. More exposure to the realms could make things worse. Kill him, or give the pit another chance to take over. I can’t…” he cut himself off, voice tight and garbled around the forced gravel.

Harley watched him for a long moment.

He’d come out in the suit. It had to be for a reason.

She couldn’t ask the questions that would break him apart in the suit. Couldn’t guide him through the revelations and the grief. Not if there was somethin’ else he had ta be doing.

Another damn time then. She’d get ‘im here again.

“Batsy.” Her voice was gentler this time, and drew his face back to hers. She made sure to catch his eye. “He already died. Seems ta me somethin’ in there never really let him go.”

She didn’t know much about the Infinite Realms… or anything at all, really. All this magic and mayhem and ghosts was fun an’ all, and she always liked to play, but it wasn’t her wheelhouse.

Didn’t have ta be. She knew how to listen to the professionals.

Bruce had stiffened, the mask of Batman pulling back, and she cut him off with a raised hand.

“An’ you only have ta look at Danny ta know that whatever all that is? Jason ain’t the first. Won’t be the last. Someone’s gonna know what went wrong, and Jason believes they’re helping him. You need to believe Jason.”

“But he could be wrong.” It was barely more than a whisper. Low and grinding and completely devoid of Batman growl, like it’d been pulled right out of his soul.

Harley gave him a gentle bop on the head with her bat.

“Then we deal with that then. But all ya doin’ by bossin’ him around an’ not listenin’ is pissing him off and makin’ him more likely ta run right off to these Realms. He’s not the sweet kid followin’ ya shadow anymore, Batsy. He’s a man, and he gets to make choices. And mistakes.”

This sure as hell wasn’t one of ‘em, but Bruce had never been good at taking that on faith. He had to be shown, and he’d never stop waiting for the tables to turn.

Which was how he usually made things worse. But he did at least know that.

He still looked mutinous, scowling across at her, so she gave him a slightly harder bop on the shoulder.

“Batman, listen ta me. I know you mean well, but Danny makes him happy. All Jason’s seein’ right now is that he’s happy, an’ you wanna take it away.”

That hit harder than any of her blows, though she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t known him so long. His whole body stiffened, sudden hesitation in even his breathing.

Harley stared him down through it, then nodded in satisfaction as his shoulders lowered, just a fraction.

“I can’t lose him again, Harley,” he whispered, barely audible even less than a foot away.

She gave him an even harder bop on the other shoulder.

“Then stop driving him away. You ain’t even said sorry for the other night yet an’ now you owe him another apology. There’s always that things might go wrong; he might get hit by a car crossing the street. The only sure thing is that if you keep treating him like this?”

She leaned forwards, grabbing his chin and forcing him to face her. To look at her, and see how serious she was.

He was reluctant to meet her eyes, but even under the white outs Harley knew when she had someone’s attention. Good. He probably knew what came next.

“You will lose him, Batsy. And it’ll be no one’s fault but your own.”

**

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon.

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

**

In his heart of hearts, Bruce knew why Harley was taking him to the parking lot.

If there was any chance of witnesses, any possibility of being overheard, he couldn’t listen to her. Not in the suit. Couldn’t show what any of his rogues (who hadn’t met Harley) might misconstrue as weakness.

If there was a single place in the city which could be trusted to be unsurveiled, it was the parking lots to his rogues’ side businesses. They had their own professional courtesies.

He appreciated it, in his own way. The closest thing to privacy they could have outside the Batmobile at the moment (and even then his children could listen in).

The baseball bat had been… well, not a total surprise, she’d had Jason fetch it in front of him and it wasn’t likely to be an empty prop twice in a row.

Still, he wasn’t as prepared as he could have been, and the first two blows hurt. His fold to the ground was mostly genuine, though part of him was definitely leaning in.

Concussion be damned, he’d been taking an emotional beating this week. At least exterior bruises would show him when they were healing.

But he hadn’t had time after her warning to do anything but head to the meeting.

Had he?

All he remembered was the seriousness of her face, the weight of absolute certainty in her words.

He would lose Jason, because he himself had pushed him away. Because Jason didn’t think Bruce trusted him. Thought Bruce would take away his chance at happiness.

Maybe Danny had been right. Maybe Jason didn’t even know Bruce loved him.

Things were so much worse than he’d made himself believe.

He knew he’d risen when his alarm went off, giving him ten minutes to head to the zeta tubes. Found Constantine again in the alley, since the man was with him now.

Couldn’t remember talking to him. But that wasn’t unlike himself anyway.

There was a hidden zeta tube downtown, only just far enough to justify the Batmobile, but Bruce would rather not leave it to drive home from Freeze’s place anyway.

He set it to return to the cave as he climbed out, at the end of another dark alley. The sun was already beginning to sink, painting the city in yellow and gold.

Constantine tapped carefully on the hood of the Batmobile between them, then jumped back as the car drove itself away, swearing. By the time he finished dusting himself off, Bruce was watching him again.

“Are yer back in there?” The magician asked cautiously, his own voice rough.

Bruce took a moment to assess his colleague. Never exactly tidy, Constantine looked more dishevelled than he had before Bruce and Harley left him.

Jason’s checkup likely hadn’t gone well.

Of course it hadn’t. Not if Jason felt the way Harley said… no. The way he’d told Harley he felt. Because Harley asked.

Something deep and weary in him tried to pull his shoulders down to sag, but he ignored it with the aid of long practice. Just gave Constantine a stiff jerk of the head.

“Hn.”

The man rolled his eyes, turning and heading for the defunct phone booth disguising the zeta tube.

“Great, monosyllables. Well, since yer back, listen up.”

The results of his examination, if Jason even let him perform it. Still, maybe the man would have something? It wasn’t like he couldn’t have cast a few spells without Jason knowing.

“First of all, yer boy ain’t a revenant.”

That jerked Bruce to a stop, his brows furrowing as he turned to face Constantine head on again. The magician had pulled a cigarette from somewhere, likely because they were heading for the Watchtower.

Bruce didn’t bother trying to stop him. He was too busy trying to process.

Constantine didn’t look happy either, so this probably wasn’t actually good news?

“What do you mean?” He growled, stepping closer and lowering his voice to avoid eavesdroppers.

Constantine rolled his eyes, waved his free hand, and the smoke from his cigarette crackled briefly in the air.

“None o’ that cloak and dagger shit, Bats. No one’s gonna hear us. But the kid, Jason? He’s not a revenant. Not sure what he is, actually, an’ not too keen on lookin’ deeper.”

It might have been the longest Bruce had heard him speak without saying “fuck” since the Amity Park question came up. The fact that he looked distinctly uneasy made that less reassuring.

“Why not?” Bruce growled, a little grateful to be able to step back and away from the smoke. Harley had left his head be for the most part, but it was already pounding again.

Constantine fixed him with a slow, speculative look.

“See, here’s my issue,” he began, raising a hand to cut off a growled protest and pointing directly at Bruce. “You? You’re Mr Worst Case Scenario. Can’t stop pokin’ at shit til it gives you an answer, or bites yer head off.”

That was certainly true. It was something that Alfred… Selina… Clark… Dick… Diana… almost everyone close to him had complained of.

Bruce wasn’t convinced it was a shortcoming, but he knew it about himself. It had been an underlying theme this whole investigation; Constantine telling him things because otherwise he’d go poking.

So what changed?

“You’re not gonna like whatever I tell you. An’ I could try an’ temper that by lyin’, or I could treat you like a fuckin’ adult on yer promise the you don’t go punchin’ inter shit yer don’t understand.”

Constantine stared expectantly at him, taking another long drag on his cigarette.

Ah. Waiting for Bruce to choose an option. As if there was any doubt?

“I swore your oath,” Bruce reminded him gruffly, and Constantine rolled his eyes again.

“An’ I’m fully aware you’re a tricky piece of shit that’ll try and work around it the second it comes up. That’s why it’s generic. You hear about the Ghost King, you back the fuck off, shut the fuck up, and run. That’ll include any of yer precious reports.”

He took another slow drag of his cigarette, watching Bruce the whole while. Bruce stared back, unsure what he was looking for but determined that he’d find nothing.

Shit. So much for having Red Robin and Oracle prod around for him. Though he had been planning to warn them to be delicate.

It barely occurred to him that showing nothing might tell Constantine more than anything else before the magician sighed and shook his head.

“Listen, B. The shit you need to know? Actually, really need to know? Jason’s… safe. There’s not a damn thing in the Infinite Realms that can hurt him now, whatever he is. I’d even put money on him bein’ demon proof, with the wards on him now.”

And wouldn’t it be so, so nice to believe that Constantine had put those wards on him? Bruce could feel the wish for it, a flight of fancy he rarely allowed himself.

Bruce let himself indulge in the want to believe for about the same length of time as that ominous pause.

“What wards?” He asked flatly, the low rumble not exactly hiding how he felt about the situation, but since he’d almost rather yell, he considered it fair.

Constantine, again, was not impressed. He folded his arms and prodded at Bruce with his still smoking cigarette.

“See, there’s that prodding. I’m trying to do this the nice way, B. Give you answers instead of just shutting you down, but you aren’t gonna know everything without a couple decades of practice, and you need to get over that.”

The magician took another drag, closing his eyes tightly for a second. When he opened them again, he looked entirely uncompromising.

The stern professional Bruce had only seen previously in life and death situations, and ones getting worse at that. Was this situation that dire?

“I could speak a word and make you forget this whole damn thing. Four more, and you’d have no choice about droppin’ it,” Constantine growled, clearly bitterly regretting not choosing that option. Bruce’s eyes narrowed in response.

He’d clearly ruled it out, but he hadn’t wanted to. Whatever he didn’t want to tell Bruce, Constantine expected him to have a powerful response.

Which meant that is was very bad, but also that Bruce’s natural response would make things worse. He could work around that.

He chose not to address the remark at all, just waiting for Constantine to continue. The man stayed silent just long enough that Bruce wondered if he was changing his mind on trying to make him forget.

This was why he hated magic. But he’d broken through it before. No spell could stand up to intense, detailed scrutiny, and he would surely have plenty of clues to remind himself when the problem was with his own son.

Finally Constantine sighed, flicked the butt of his cigarette to the ground, and crushed it under one heel. He seemed to have come to a decision, new purpose under the fear he’d been hiding since he first arrived.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he sighed, heading for the zeta tube. There was just a little more spring in his step.

Bruce frowned and moved to block him.

“The wards,” he pressed, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. This conversation was important.

Constantine looked surprisingly chipper actually, raising his chin to give Bruce a sudden and almost startling smirk.

“Oh no, big guy. You had your chance to promise to behave like an adult, so we’re going with option three.”

He’d noticed Bruce’s lack of comment. Obviously, but Bruce hadn’t really thought he’d need to say anything.

Investigating was what Batman did. He knew how to do it tactfully, and without stepping on toes. He just wouldn’t promise not to do it.

None of which explained Constantine’s suddenly improved mood. It was almost the same satisfaction he’d show when he’d worked out how to pawn an unpleasant job off on someone else.

“And that is?” Bruce asked warily, suspecting he wouldn’t like whatever made this not Constantine’s problem. Constantine waggled a finger at him, like he was nothing more than a naughty child.

“I let you ask questions, after Wonder Woman promises to keep yer in line.” He said it with the finality of a lead weight, and it dropped through Bruce’s chest like one.

Shit.

Diana… Diana knew him far too well. If Constantine convinced her of whatever gave him this level of caution, she would camp in the bat cave to stop him if necessary.

Diana didn’t tolerate what she considered risk. If Bruce could convince her he was right instead… she could be a very useful ally. And she had always liked Jason.

Jason adored her. Wonder Woman had always been his favourite hero, even as a child. If Diana asked him, he might even agree to a consultation.

Bruce still didn’t know what had happened with today’s consultation, and apparently he wouldn’t even find out until they spoke to Wonder Woman.

He could extrapolate from that alone, frankly, even if Constantine wasn’t visibly rattled.

Bruce stepped aside somewhat reluctantly, letting Constantine step into the zeta tube first. They could technically fit in together, but he wasn’t exactly in the mood to play sardines.

The magician’s vehemence was troubling him, as was his conviction that Wonder Woman would be the answer. It was possible that Bruce had miscalculated the scale of the threat they were facing.

Whatever had warded Jason must be touchy enough to dislike any form of questions, and powerful enough to have its displeasure matter. And if it would be able to detect the questions being asked…

Contrary to popular opinions, Bruce did know how to temper his investigative instincts when called for. People only had to ask.

And.

Impress on him. A few times. That they meant it.

Honestly if they just told him why and what to expect, set some limitations and boundaries, it wasn’t like he was unreasonable. He just liked to verify data through his own sources.

Justice League Dark were a perfectly reputable source when he had to involve himself with magic. He could cross reference things between other members if he needed to check Constantine’s intel.

The unfortunate fact of the matter seemed to be that however little Bruce liked it, he did now need to learn more about magic. He’d been content to leave it to the experts for as long as he could, but…

But it now concerned one of his children. His second son, the one he’d lost.

At the very least, he needed to understand enough about the Infinite Realms to know how to keep Jason safe. What he would need, if there was anything they should be doing for him.

Not that the JL Dark had bothered to let him know when they thought Jason was a revenant. That might have been nice, even if apparently he wasn’t.

He’d already planned to start with Constantine’s attached reading on the Infinite Realms, and the Ghost King in particular for his new researches.

(Just the thought sent a shiver down his spine, and Bruce stepped into the zeta tube a little faster than necessary. Was that his oath? On just the thought?)

He could get information on these specific wards too. Cross reference with Zatanna when she was available. Perhaps contact Dr Fate.

The Justice League Dark had their own sections of both reference materials and secured artefacts in various bases around the world.

Studying those should be a sufficient compromise; he wouldn’t reach out to the Infinite Realms directly, not until the Anti-Ecto Acts had been dealt with.

Then they could get in touch with Jason’s mysterious doctor, provided he was willing. Have the dismantling of the acts as a show of good faith.

He’d have to ask Constantine about a sufficient apology too. And mention the acts themselves; somehow there just hadn’t been time today.

Stepping out into the Watchtower, Bruce was maybe just possibly anticipating the magician’s reaction, in a dark way. Let someone else have a bad day for a change.

The poor man had been so upset with the idea that Bruce might ask questions about the realms. The fact that the United States had declared a kill order on all its occupants was not going to go over well.

And all that sass and defensive aggression could be pointed at someone other than Bruce for a while.

Actually? He should wait until Constantine was sitting down. He could add it to his meeting notes, bring it up to the whole League at once.

There would be someone on site if the magician actually fainted.

Or if Bruce’s head actually exploded.

Bruce made a mental note to check their medical supplies and defences, in case there were any unpredictable reactions. He could swing by the infirmary before they got started.

Giving Constantine a quick parting nod, he turned away from the hall and walked quickly towards the infirmary. Just to check in.

Today’s meeting was just the Justice League, with Constantine as the sole representative of JL Dark; Dark’s members all seemed to know about the Infinite Realms and Amity Park already. They didn’t need the briefing.

They’d have to read Bruce’s meeting notes now though. The same ones he was fully aware most members of the League just ignored, considered wasteful paperwork.

They expected to be told directly if something was important. As if he had all the time in the world, and they had no personal responsibility.

The lights thrummed softly as he walked, all the little noises of the satellite’s systems ticking over in perfect order helping Bruce settle into his purpose.

Jason’s report had been thorough, and though Bruce could easily see the bias around his son’s words… in this case it was more than justified.

The wording used to describe Jason and others like him in the acts contained less expletives, but were no better. The veneer of detachment only made the disdain shine through more clearly.

As if his son were beneath contempt. If Jason were to be believed (and Bruce would confirm with Constantine and Shazam) then most of his family were ecto-contaminated.

It was almost nice to have a tangible problem to solve. An enemy he could face and defeat in simple, easy manoeuvres. It was unlikely to be a physical fight, but that hardly mattered.

The delicate machinations of politics were better left to Wonder Woman, Aquaman, damn near anyone but Batman. No, Bruce Wayne was far more influential in that arena.

A little money in the right places, press coverage, a big “himbo with a heart of gold” performance. They weren’t his preferred weapons, but he knew they were effective.

And for Jason, there was nothing at all he wouldn’t do.

Purpose and the time limit combined hastened his step, his cloak billowing around him as he stalked the halls of the Watchtower. The infirmary was empty; always good.

Their stocks were full, and there were three nurses on duty that Bruce had personally selected. He trusted all of them, and none looked worried at his visit.

Batman was well known for overpreparing. It always came in useful.

He was just making his way back towards the meeting hall, feeling markedly better himself with a firm goal in mind, when Superman rounded the corner ahead of him.

The man of steel was heading his way, worry writ large on his face. If he’d heard Bruce’s talk with Harley… actually, if he’d been able to overhear Constantine’s talk with Jason, that would be very useful.

Bruce prepared a few brief words to reassure his friend as succinctly as possible, and get them both moving back towards the meeting. They could actually talk afterwards.

He never got to say them. Superman ignored his little nod of greeting and hurried up to him, standing close enough that they couldn’t be overheard. Blocking Bruce’s path.

A thrum of dread wormed its way back into Bruce’s heart as he looked up into his friend’s earnest, deep blue eyes.

Clark kept his voice low, urgent and concerned as he whispered five words that shattered the world.

“Bruce? I can’t hear Jason’s heart.”

—————————

😈

Now quick, for extra bonus points, who can name what was supposed to happen at some point in the last two chapters and didn’t? This is your chance for a treat from the beginning of the next chapter

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 2 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer er @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation n @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna a @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

Next chapter!

#danny fenton dead and loving it #dp x dc #dead on main ship #danny x jason #chapter 15 #i’ll take the highway #the highway to heeeeeeeeeell/The Ghost Zone #anyway rip to bruce wayne but i would simply not tell my son he can’t have nice things #i’m just built different #so is harley #and she has a bat #and a bat-shaped problem #fuck i’m so looking forward to the start of the next chapter it’s a joke i’ve been waiting on for months #hint: sam #dpxdc #dc x dp #dcxdp

[imdead770]

The Outsiders x Reader fluff - Steve Randle

Authors Note - I think this man gets slept on way too much. I don't know his character too well, but enjoy.

Steve Randle -

▪︎ Let's start with the basics

▪︎ He has the guts to ask you out, yeah, but his ego is too fucking big to allow that

▪︎ He spent weeks trying to figure out how to ask you out

▪︎ Eventually landed on the classic "take them out as friends but we all know it's not as friends" date

▪︎ Asked you to go to some diner with him

▪︎ Literally said "It's a date", completely forgetting his plan

▪︎ Still worked though, win-win.

▪︎ Wore his basic jean vest, but he put on a cleaner t-shirt and his best pair of jeans

▪︎ Looked in the mirror for a bit either hyping himself up or admiring himself 💀

▪︎ Actually showered for once

▪︎ When he saw you he nearly passed out

▪︎ Here he was in a jean vest and you looked ready to be on the cover of vogue

▪︎ You both just talked the whole time

▪︎ He was way too hyped up to be nervous, so it was actually laid back and fun

▪︎ Really shitty jokes

▪︎ You both shared a milkshake, probably shared chocolate cake too

▪︎ Whenever you went back home and you kissed him on the cheek he almost ate dirt again

▪︎ Told the whole gang about it

" We shared a shake Soda, that ain't somethin' just anyone does "

" It's been two hours, Steve.. "

" Ya shoulda seen 'em! I mean- "

▪︎ Once you two started seeing each other more often, you sort of just stayed as best friends but added some perks

▪︎ Really shit inside jokes and really comfortable around each other + kissing and touching

▪︎ Whenever he finally worked up the guts to kiss you he almost broke your nose

▪︎ You were both laughing too hard to actually kiss

▪︎ Whenever you finally shut up it was a really good kiss though

▪︎ You know how Johnny moved down on Dal's leaderboard?

▪︎ On Steve's ranks he moved down cars and chocolate cake for you

▪︎ That's saying something

▪︎ Not a lot of pet names, some basic ones though

▪︎ Baby, babe, darlin'

▪︎ Probably some sweetheart scattered in there if he feels like it

▪︎ Spends an ass ton of time with you

▪︎ I feel like quality time would be one of his love languages?? I don't really know, I just think it fits him

▪︎ Whenever the gang has their own shit and he's done at DX he just hangs out with you

▪︎ Considers anything and everything a date.

▪︎ HIS TATTOO??

▪︎ You getting bored so you start tracing the outline of his tattoo, not even realizing how many butterflies you're giving him

▪︎ If you get cold he offers you his vest, completely forgetting its a fucking vest

" God it's cold.. "

" Ya' want my jacket? "

" .. that's not a jacket- "

" It's real' warm, I swear! "

▪︎ Doesn't do shit but you wear it to make him happy

▪︎ Always has his arm either around your shoulders or on your thigh

▪︎ I think he's actually pretty affectionate?

▪︎ Not in public, gotta be tuff, but in private he'll just hold you

▪︎ No reason, he just likes holding you

▪︎ Let's you touch the swirls in his hair or run your fingers through the longer pieces in the back

▪︎ Practically melts everytime you do so

▪︎ Always tells you stories about DX

" So I was tryna fix an engine when a possum just flew outta' nowhere! I swear, it was like it was sent from God or somethin'. Hada' get a rabies shot that day. "

▪︎ Suprisingly good with hair?? Not just good at it, he's obsessed with playing with your hair.

▪︎ You could be in the middle of an equation an he'll be twirling your hair around his fingers or braiding it.

▪︎ Either really quick kisses or deep makeout sessions, no in-between

▪︎ Always smells like gasoline and some weird cologne

▪︎ The thing is he doesn't wear cologne?

▪︎ You and the gang have played guessing games trying to figure out where the cheap cologne smell is coming from

▪︎ He's basically a sweeter Dallas

▪︎ Like he's tough and acts tough but he'll hold you in public he doesn't really care

▪︎ He's a dumbass but he's sweet

▪︎ 👍

#the outsiders #the outsiders headcanons #dallas winston #sodapop curtis #johnny cade #ponyboy curtis #steve randle #two bit mathews #darry curtis #the outsiders x reader #steve x reader #steve randle x reader #the outsiders steve

[yeonboy]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐲 ♡ choi beomgyu.

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with. He aches. And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish. He needs to take a step back. Or, Choi Beomgyu is head over heels in love with his best friend – and she simply doesn’t feel the same. 

❧ choi beomgyu x f. reader | 16+ | college!au ♡ best friends!au ♡ unrequited love!au ♡ angst ♡ drama.

❧ 4.7 k words

❧ warnings! profanity, an extreeeeeme amount of pining, one-sided feelings, unrequited love, jealousy, heartbreak, some self-deprication, one (1) mention of drinking and partying, one (1) mention of making out, maybe an innuendo or two! mostly just buckets full of mopey, pining gyu </3 and a hopeful (?) ending (:

❧ note! i wrote this because i was listening to m5’s whiskey and crying and thinking of gyu so take that how u will </3 please note that the lyrics are there just to set the tone, not to be taken too literally. i just love this song, man. please don’t hate me for the ending, i changed it thrice and then settled on this. it just felt perfect to me this way :”) also! pls excuse the lack of dividers, tumblr won't let me add them without hiding the post from the tags for some reason :/

❧ masterlist | inbox ⁘

i never knew that love was blind; till i was hers and she was never mine…

“So, I have a question for you.”

Beomgyu blinks at your words, letting the steel straw escape his lips as you pull his strawberry milkshake away from him. 

In fascination, he watches the way your lips wrap around the shiny tube in the exact place where his own had been. You slurp once and pull away, leaving a tint of pink – pinker than the drink, pinker than Beomgyu’s cheeks, pinker than the love-goggles that are permanently on his eyes when he’s with you – on the edge of the straw.

“Gyu?”

He wants to wipe that pink away with his lips, so bad. But your hand comes in with a tissue to clean that precious speck of your lipstick away, before he can even blink a second time.

Now he blinks again and looks up at you. God, you’re so gorgeous with your brows all furrowed and lips all pouty. He is so thoroughly ruined by you. Why does he continue to subject himself to this torture instead of keeping his distance like a sane person? 

He doesn’t fucking know.

“Y–yeah? What question?”

“A hypothetical one. Very important, nonetheless.” You stare into space with your eyes squinted, perfect cheekbones reflecting the light from the evening traffic beyond the glass walls of the cafe you’re seated in. “If long time BFFs happen to develop feelings for each other, should they confess?”

Beomgyu chokes on air, freezing like a solid block of ice.

What did you just ask?

“You know… Just imagine! Two people who have been the best of friends for ages. And then one of them realizes they’re in love with the other.” Your rounded eyes turn to him with a hint of worry in them. “Should they confess and live their dream? Or should they take this secret to their grave and protect their friendship?”

Beomgyu is a mess. 

Why the actual hell are you asking him that? Him – the one guy in your entire life that doesn’t have to imagine this specific situation because he’s been living it for years, now?

Now, he’s not panicking because he thinks you might have figured him out and are trying to pave a path to confession. No, he's self-aware enough to not be deluded. And his panic kinda stems from this very fact. 

He's self-aware enough to know that while he's looking at you and daydreaming of a picket fence and good-morning kisses, your mind is stuck on someone else. Choi Soobin. Older than him, taller than him, cuter than him. Guy checks all boxes of the type of guys you like so well, Beomgyu wonders if Soobin is the reason why you created those boxes in the first place.

So he's scared out of his mind that you're paving a road to confess to Soobin.

“Wow, aren’t you super helpful this evening?”

Your whine of frustration pulls him out of his spiral. He clears his throat and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t know, man. That’s a very subjective question.”

“Subjective?” You tilt your head in thought and Beomgyu dreads the next words you would say before you have even formed them: “Okay, let me answer it subjectively first then! Like, imagine if you had feelings for me. I wouldn't want you to confess them to me, like, ever.”

Ouch. Not that he plans to ever confess them to you, but still pretty ouch.

Slightly hurt, he drags his milkshake back to himself and slurps away the rest of it before smacking his lips and shaking his head. “Well then subjectively, it’s the complete opposite for me.”

You look at him with an extremely confused frown. “But what if I lose the friendship because you don't feel the same?” 

This hypothesis is making him lose his damn mind. 

“I… well, what if we lose the chance to be something much more amazing just because you were scared?”

Moment of introspection: he hopes to all the powers in the universe that he isn’t losing the chance to be something much more amazing with you just because he’s scared. You don’t like him like that, you won’t ever like him like that. 

He’s being smart and self-preservative. Not scared.

You're lost in thoughts for a moment, and then you suddenly get up with a jump. Grinning at him, you lean down to peck his cheek and rush out of the cafe before he can even fully absorb the warm brush of your lips against his skin. “You're the best, Gyu, thank you so much!”

In a daze, he brings his fingertips to brush against the apple of his cheek. 

Why did you run away like that? Why did you sound so excited? Fuck, are you going to confess right now? 

He pulls his fingertips away. 

They are pink.

yeah i was reckless, but i let it burn; i let it burn, yeah…

“And if they show up hand-in-hand, then what? Then what, huh, Tyun? It’s easy for you to say I’m overthinking, but you aren’t thinking nearly enough!”

Kang Taehyun, the university’s Student Council member who is in-charge of overseeing the set-up for tomorrow's inter-uni basketball game – and also Beomgyu’s best friend of fifteen years – rolls his eyes so hard, it’s a wonder they don’t fall out of their sockets.

“Why do you keep setting yourself up for more pain, man? Why don't you try to invest these emotions somewhere they will be appreciated?”

“I can't just compel myself to start or stop feeling, dude…”

Shin Ryujin suddenly appears behind the bleachers that the two of them were covering with a banner, both hands planted in the back pockets of her jorts. They should look incredibly lame, but she somehow pulls them off. 

Beomgyu looks at her with wide eyes, wondering how much she heard.

“Yo, dumbass! Are you coming to the game tomorrow?” She’s smirking at him but there's a sparkle in her eyes that makes him chuckle at the name. 

“The name's Beomgyu.”

“That's what I said. So, are you coming?”

Beomgyu has actually been trying to think of an excuse to get out his regular movie night with you - and this sounds like the perfect one. He shrugs a shoulder. “Don’t really got any plans, so… Maybe I will.”

Taehyun gives him a weird look because he knows Beomgyu always had plans on Fridays.

Ryujin grins wide. “Perfect! Well, just two requests.”

He squints with interest. “What requests?”

“Wear my jersey! And, uh, don’t bring a date, please?”

She looks extremely bashful while saying the second part of the sentence. Which is somewhat jarring. It’s Shin fucking Ryujin, she eats men for breakfast. Why is she almost blushing?

But then Taehyun is cackling, which reminds Beomgyu of the first request she made. He immediately scowls. “Hey! I’m not wearing your jersey like some groupie!

She rolls her eyes, but her lips are quirked up because he didn’t say no to the second request. And he knows he won’t; you're the only one he ever asks to accompany him to places, and he's only going to the game tomorrow to escape you. 

“Your loss. Just so you know, boys are lining up to wear my jersey…”

Scoffing, Beomgyu goes back to handing Taehyun more pins. “Yeah right.”

“What? You don’t believe me?” Ryujin scoffs. “Watch this - ayo, Heeseung! Wanna wear my jersey tomorrow?”

A screech from the Students Council’s Vice Prez is followed by a high-pitched: “For real? Yes, please, I—” 

“Sike! Haha, gotcha, little bitch!”

Taehyun is doubled over in laughter and even Beomgyu can’t hold in his chuckles at the look of utter devastation on Heeseung’s face and victory on Ryujin’s. She raises an eyebrow when their gazes meet. “See?”

“How much did you pay him for this skit?”

She smacks his shoulder with an irritated whine. “You’re way too fucking cynical for no damn reason, dude. Okay, no jersey - but get a no. 17 placard for me, at least?” 

Rolling his eyes, he finally nods. 

“Great! See ya tomorrow, loser! Bye, Tyun!”

Taehyun waves at her as she leaves, while Beomgyu cups his hands around his mouth to yell out: “The name’s Beomgyu!”

“That’s what I said!”

“Man, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you actually enjoy talking to a girl.” 

Offended to his very bones, Beomgyu gapes at his best friend. “Dude! I enjoy talking to girls! I’m straight! Or did you forget how I threw up that one time when you kissed me during spin-the-bottle in seventh gra—”

“Yes, I remember!” Taehyun smacks him with a scowl on his face. “But that’s not what I meant. Gyu, you only ever talk to Y/N. Or have you not realized that? And look absolutely lovesick and physically pained while doing that.”

“Nahhhh, untrue. It’s just—” He cuts himself off to purse his lips. Taehyun is one-hundred percent correct. “It’s just a little difficult to mask my emotions all the time, but I manage…”

Taehyun just shakes his head in obvious disappointment. Then he tilts his chin up towards the direction where Ryujin is laughing around with some girls from the cheer team. “She obviously likes you a lot. Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t,” he mumbles, lips forming a pout because this is so confusing. “But isn’t she basically signing up for the hurt if she’s doing this despite knowing where I stand with Y/N?

“Just…” Taehyun sighs. “Yeah, just don’t give her false hope.”

Beomgyu feels like he’s giving himself false hope every single time he talks to you, but what can be done.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

You end up texting him first, that night, to cancel tomorrow’s movie night. You apparently have “plans” with a friend. 

Bile rises up Beomgyu’s throat at the thought of you finally going on a date with Soobin. 

He can’t get himself to directly ask if that is the case, but fuck, why won’t you tell him? He goes to sleep with a pain in his chest that night.

the feeling it was bittersweet, realizing i was in too deep…

As fate would have it, Beomgyu bumps into you at the very gates of the basketball stadium, the next evening. You look like a dream in your short skirt and varsity jacket.

He feels nauseous at the thought of discovering Soobin trailing behind you with a large drink with two straws, or something.

“Uh… these are your plans?” He says in a way of greeting.

Your eyes widen when you see him, but then you pout. “Yeah! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be here? We would’ve come together!”

He immediately thinks of his promise to Ryujin and shakes his head. “Ah, actually… Shin Ryujin invited me.” 

Your mouth forms an O, a lost expression crossing your face. He’s never been great at reading people, but with the way his brain gets fuzzy around you, he’s doing an even worse job right now. Because he can absolutely not tell what this look on your face means. 

Right then, the girl herself arrives, a wistful smile on her face. “Thought I told you to not bring a date? And she’s wearing Chaewon’s jersey, hmph.”

“Oh! We didn't—”

You cut him off with a chuckle that somehow sounds a little strained. “Ah, I’m actually here with her sister!” 

Yunjin? He didn’t know you were friends with her… But that means no Soobin, right? Which might mean that no confession happened yesterday?

“Dude, Chaewon’s our Forward and our captain. No hard feelings!” Ryujin throws up a peace sign at you, and the two girls laugh.

After you leave to look for Yunjin, Ryujin stays back, smirking at him. But there’s a distinct look in her eyes that he can, for a change, recognize. Partly because the fuzz in his brain left along with you. And partly because he sees this look in the mirror everyday. 

“I don’t even stand a chance, do I?” She doesn’t sound upset, just… regretful.

Taehyun’s words come back to him. “Ryu, I—” 

“Nah, it’s fine. I knew what I was getting into, Choi.” She smiles, this time, pointing at the ‘17’ placard in his hands. “I’m gonna score a basket just for this, though. Cheer loudly, ’kay?”

she was a lesson – i had to learn, i had to learn, yeah…

Beomgyu had gone to the game only for Ryujin, not for you. He literally came here to escape movie night with you.

Yet, he sits in the stadium with his eyes straying from Ryujin’s great moves as Point Guard, reaching across the court, to land on you. It’s so annoying and makes him feel so helpless, he wants to scream. But there’s something magnetic about your presence that just won’t let him exist peacefully.

Is this how love is supposed to feel? Exhausting and painful at all times?

What adds to the exhaustion and pain is the way you are seated with your eyes bright and teeth on display, Yunjin on one side and…Soobin on the other. 

Though he saw it coming, Beomgyu still finds it really hard to swallow the pain that pricks at his throat at the sight of you giggling into Soobin’s side and looking at the guy with eyes full of a million stars. He tries to seek comfort in the way Soobin seems to reciprocate your happiness, but it’s really hard.

He isn’t even jealous at this point, he’s just tired. If he could stop himself from feeling so much, all the damn time, he really, really would.

The crowd suddenly cheers, drawing his attention away from you – thankfully – and back to the court. And then his eyes widen in surprise. Ryujin stands with her hands braced on her hips, gaze directly directed at him. Well – she said she would score a basket for him and she did. She lifts a hand to point at him, causing a louder cheer to roar across the stadium, and Beomgyu cannot hold back the loud chuckle that escapes him. He raises both his hands up in a double thumbs-up.

Somewhere from three rows below, Heeseung shouts out an expletive at him, but the game has resumed again so everyone around the guy asks him to shut up.

Like clockwork, Beomgyu’s gaze slowly floats back up at the stands, slowly zeroing in towards your seat – only to stop short. You’re not in your seat. And neither is Soobin.

Oh.

Oh.

Now again, Beomgyu should be prepared to face this as well. But he’s once again at a loss.

Unwittingly, his brain conjures up images of you and Soobin finding a secluded, dark corner to make out in. He envisions the brightness he just saw in both of your gazes, imagines the tinkling giggles you would release, pictures the darkening of your cheeks. 

And in that moment, he can’t find it in himself to be happy for you. He can’t pretend to like Soobin. 

He aches to be the one you would have snuck off with; to be the one you would want to share secret kisses with.

He aches.

And in that moment, he realizes his feelings have gone too far. They have caused him to stop being a true well-wisher to you; he is being selfish.

He needs to take a step back.

i used to try to forget her…

“Dude, the one thing I asked of you was to not hurt Ryujin. What the hell do you mean you’re taking her out?” 

Beomgyu pinches the bridge of his nose, almost regretting disclosing his plans to his best friend. But he needed Taehyun to be on his side to make sure he doesn’t chicken out. Although given the tone the guy is using with him right now, Beomgyu’s purpose might be failing either way. 

He puts his phone on loudspeaker, extracting a jacket from his closet to match the blue t-shirt he’s wearing.

“She was awarded MVP for yesterday’s game for the first time in this season. When I congratulated her on it, she called me her lucky charm—”

“Ugh, it’s as if she wants you to hurt her,” Taehyun murmurs and Beomgyu can hear the grimace in his voice through the phone.

“So I asked her if she wanted to celebrate the win with her lucky charm, and she said yes…”

Taehyun gives a sigh. “You literally flirted with her.”

“I did. Weren’t you the one telling me I should focus my feelings where they will be reciprocated?”

“Yes, you should. But do you even feel anything?”

“I do, yeah…” Immense sadness and despair with a brush of frustration. “I feel like I’m gonna have a good time with her.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” Taehyun gives another sigh. “Just be smart, okay? Don’t lead her on, Gyu.”

“I won’t, man.”

Settling on a black denim jacket that goes with his jeans and boots of the same color, Beomgyu leaves his dorm in the half a decade old Corvette his parents have permitted him to keep on campus. He’s meeting Ryujin at the cafe, which saves him from spending time in the car with her.

When he enters the cafe, though, Beomgyu begins to wonder if he has somehow offended some higher, superior power by some action of his, for which he is now being punished on the daily.

Because before he can even begin to look around for his date, a giggling Soobin catches his eye. He’s sitting facing the door, feeding spaghetti to his date. 

His date.

You.

Your back is to him, but Beomgyu can still see how you’ve styled your hair in a way that is different than usual. You’ve always complained that your hair is too silky to be held up in an updo—a remark Beomgyu can never understand because he, personally, loves the texture of your hair—and so this complicated bun feels so strange on you.

And the off-shoulder dress instead of your beloved full-sleeves. And the dangling earrings instead of your usual studs. And—

Holy fuck, this isn’t you.

This isn’t you.

Beomgyu is fully frozen in his spot now, stunned and panicked at the same time.

Soobin is on a date – with someone else.

Should he be happy or concerned? 

The sweat accumulating on his palms indicates the latter. 

“Gyu!”

The call snaps his attention to a corner of the cafe, where Shin Ryujin sits with a grin on her face. Pushing his lips up, he waves at her. But his eyes involuntarily swim back to Soobin once more – only this time, both the taller boy and his date, Kim Chaewon, the basketball captain, are looking at Beomgyu with matching smiles.

He doesn’t know how to respond. Or react. His smile is frozen on his lips and his hand is still up in a wave, however, so the couple take that to be his greeting and go back to talking among themselves. And Beomgyu pushes himself to finally walk towards Ryujin’s table.

“I see you already spotted what I was dying to gossip about,” Ryujin grumbles with a scowl when he settles opposite her. 

Beomgyu blinks. “Uh… Soobin?”

“Who?” This time Ryujin is the one to give a clueless blink. But then her eyebrows rise. “Oh, the boy. Yeah, in a way, I guess? But Chaewon, obviously. She’s finally on a date with her crush of a whole ass year.”

What? “O–oh?”

The waiter comes over to take their orders, right then. Beomgyu asks for a club sandwich and beer, while Ryujin chooses an extra cheese loaded pizza and a virgin mojito.

“You don’t want me drunk around you, loser.” She winks at him but her smile is forced enough to make guilt unfurl in Beomgyu’s chest. “Anyways! Chaewon! She’s finally winning at life and it’s all thanks to your girl.”

Beomgyu’s heart jumps up to his throat for multiple reasons.  

His girl? You? Who else could it even be.

He drily swallows. “My…?”

“She was so hard at work during yesterday’s match! Fuck knows what magical words she said to both of them but they finally stopped their cat and mouse chase for good.” A fond look enters Ryujin’s gaze as she peeks past him to look at the couple. “It was sickening, watching Chaewon pine day in and out. Kinda like it is to watch you.”

Ryujin is laughing at her own joke, but Beomgyu’s mind is stuck on the information she just imparted. “Yesterday’s match?”

“Yeah. She arrived with Yunjin, remember? They both sat with Soobin and talked about Chaewon the entire time. Then she said something to Chae during break, and boom – this scardy ass dude was finally asking Chae out at the end of the match!”

Oh, fuck. This is why you were sitting with Soobin yesterday.

You were setting him up with Chaewon. 

This is probably why you have been hanging out with the guy and generally interacting so much with him recently as well.

Wait, was this why you asked him that question about having feelings for a best friend? As far as his general university knowledge goes, Chaewon and Soobin have been best friends since before college.

Oh fuck, indeed.

Beomgyu really blew things out of proportion and let his overthinking mind carry him away.

“Speaking of – when do you plan to confess, Choi?”

Beomgyu scoffs at the question. “Never.”

Ryujin looks genuinely confused at the response. “What? Why?”

“She doesn’t feel the same, Ryu. And she’s my best friend. I can’t risk it.”

“How do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

That’s – an odd question. One that Beomgyu feels like should be very obvious to answer, but when he opens his mouth to do just that, he has to shut it back again. Because ‘I just know’ is going to sound as stupid out loud as it does in his head. 

But then what else does he have? He thought you had feelings for someone else but that was obviously not the case. 

“I… I mean isn’t it obvious? She would’ve hinted at it… said anything at all if she felt anything…”

The moment Ryujin narrows her eyes and clicks her tongue, he knows he messed up. “Like you have? You’re sitting on your hands, too, dumbass. Does she even know that you don’t go on dates?”

“I’m on a date right now.”

“Keep talking like that and you’ll leave this date with a black eye.”

The waiter arrives with their food, and as Ryujin dives right in, Beomgyu takes a moment to actually think about what the girl has been saying.

You not having feelings for someone else doesn’t automatically imply that you’ve suddenly stopped viewing Beomgyu platonically. Which is why he doesn’t want to suddenly drop his plans of moving on and go back to pining over you.

He wishes for this to be a smooth transition – getting rid of his romantic feelings for you while also staying friends. But if he pays mind to what Ryujin just said, he will block this way for himself.

Because the moment he confesses, it will be a one-way street. You’ll never talk to him again and he’ll be too embarrassed to even show you his face.

Now, of course, he isn’t even considering what could happen if you actually ended up reciprocating – because he’s done enough of that for years now and he’s honestly… tired.

Loving you, as he has concluded time again, is painful and exhausting. He just wants to be happy again.

“How about you stop giving me love advice and start looking for someone new to crush on?” Beomgyu raises an eyebrow at Ryujin, who picks up an olive from her pizza to throw at his face with a scowl.

But then when she dissolves into giggles, sprinkling her happiness and beauty all over him, Beomgyu has to pause to wonder if she doesn’t actually need to look for someone new to crush on.

He offers to drop her off at the end of the date and Ryujin thanks him for the treat. His hands feel a little clammy when she grins at him with a tilt of her head, short hair flying up with the wind.

“Will… will I see you again?”

“Uh, yeah? You see me everyday, dumbass.” Ryujin gives a chuckle but it doesn’t sound natural.

“No, I mean – like this. On a date.”

Her shoulders deflate and her smile leaves her face. Pursing her lips, she looks at him in what could only be defined as disappointment. “This wasn’t a date, Beomgyu. And I won’t be your rebound.”

He’s not asking her to be – except, maybe he is. He doesn’t know anymore.

She seems to know more than him because she gives him another one of those wry smiles of hers and pats his shoulder. “Tell her how you feel and get out of this stupid limbo. I can be your shoulder to cry on, but not a heart to play with. Good night, loser.”

He truly feels like a loser when she walks away from his car.

but now i smile when i remember.

Beomgyu has heard people talk a great deal about ‘right person, wrong time’ or ‘wrong person, right time’, but he has never felt the gravity of it the way he does now.

You’re sitting on the bleachers with Lee Heeseung and giggling your heart away like he’s the funniest man alive. Heeseung, to his credit, is looking at you with a sparkle in his eyes that rivals the entire galaxy.

And as Beomgyu watches the scene from next to the water dispenser in a discrete corner, the bottom of his stomach feels strangely calm. 

It’s been a week since he had that confrontation with Ryujin. He didn’t exactly take her advice and run to confess to you, but he certainly did drop hints. And he certainly did observe your reactions.

At the end, he ruefully finds himself exactly where he always has been – watching you offer your affections to someone else from afar.

“How long has he been keeping this in?” he asks around a scoff when Heeseung shows you some magic trick and gloats in your excited clapping.

Taehyun hums as he screws the lid of the water dispenser tight and dusts his hands off to come stand next to Beomgyu. “Fuck knows. I think he’s always smiled a little too brightly at her whenever—oh my God, did you see that? Butterfingers! I could see that card from here. Making a joke out of the best card trick in the books!”

Beomgyu laughs at his friend’s grumbles. Then he gives a sigh. “She looks happy, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah, she does. But I don’t really think she’s on the same page as Lee. Or even you for that matter.” Taehyun settles on the ground and Beomgyu follows his lead. “She’s enjoying her college days like a normal uni student. And maybe you should too, Gyu. Enough of this pining, enough of being in love. Don’t you want to get drunk off your ass and makeout with some ditzy freshman at a party?”

Beomgyu’s horror must show on his face because Taehyun snorts when their eyes meet. 

“Okay, maybe not all of it. But… we’re young, buddy. You’ll have plenty of time to fall in love. Hopefully this time with someone who loves you more?”

Beomgyu watches the way you lean closer to Heesung to whisper something in his ear, and as the guy’s cheeks grow red in response, he frowns to himself. 

“What about all those times when she seemed jealous? Or upset I wasn’t paying attention to her?”

“Dude, for real?” Taehyun punches his shoulder. “You get like that too when I’m not available at your every beck and call.”

Beomgyu slowly exhales, leaning back on his palms and tilting his head up to let the sunlight wash over his face.

He really is stepping out of his delusions, this time.

You don't like him like that. You don't have feelings for him.

You and him are going to remain just friends.

He's finally ready to face the fact and move forward.

“Yo, loser! Wanna play catch?”

He’s smiling even before he has opened his eyes. Taehyun clears his throat in an exaggerated way with his eyebrows raised. “Never seen you grin that brightly in a while, my man…”

He looks around towards the source of the voice, his grin turning into laughter at the evil gleam in Ryujin’s eyes as she hurtles the basketball towards him.

Somehow managing to catch it with an enraged gasp, Beomgyu wastes no time in chasing the girl with it.

Somewhere in his peripheral vision, he notices the way you have cuddled up with Heesung and how the two of you are laughing at his antics with Ryujin.

When he briefly meets your eye, you give him a thumbs up with your grin.

And for the first time in years, he is able to smile back at you without an ounce of pain in his heart.

and i was so young till she kissed me like a whiskey… like a whiskey.

FIN.

© yeonboy 2023 // do not steal, copy or repost. respect your local content creators, kaythanks.

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[ghoulsister1]

🥀♡•♡"Wherefore art thou Dante?"♡•♡🥀

Dante Sparda x Female Reader. Some angst. Hurt/Comfort. There's fluff don't worry. Forbidden Love. Romeo & Juliet inspired. Disapproving parents. Love is powerful. Secret relationship. Eloping. Happy ending.

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Your family have always had a disdain of Sparda and his kin, despite Sparda being a kindhearted and caring demon with a beautiful and sweet human wife and two handsome sons who were twins, but still they hated them. And they would hate you if your family found out about your secret relationship with Dante, younger twin brother of Vergil, son of Sparda.

For years, your family hated demons and devils. They hated what they done to humans and hated the wars raged on them by Mundus. And in particular, they hated Sparda. They despised him despite Sparda betraying Mundus and protecting the humans from harm. They hated him even when he choose to live amongst the humans and married a beautiful woman, Eva. They hated him, even when Eva gave birth to twin sons, Vergil and Dante. They could never let go of their hatred towards demons and Devils, even if there were good Devils in the world.

And you knew, if they found out what you were up to when you snuck out at night, they'd definitely hate you. Possibly even disown you. Because you were in love with Dante, son of Sparda and younger twin brother of Vergil.

You two met at a masquerade ball, hosted by your parents. They had forbade Dante and Vergil from attending, but that didn't stop Dante from planning on crashing it for fun. Vergil warned him not to do it, but Dante being Dante he went along and snuck into the ball with his own masquerade disguise.

His plan was to sneak in and cause a ruckus, maybe switch out the classical music for some heavy metal songs and put them on full blast throughout the speakers. He had a whole plan laid out to wreck this boring party, until he saw you. And you saw him.

You were dressed in a beautiful, white and gold dress adorned with a gorgeous matching masquerade mask. Your hair done up and adorned with a gold laurel leaf crown. You were stunning, an angel sent from above to Dante and his plans of wrecking the party was all forgotten.

You couldn't help but notice Dante, striking white hair, beautiful blue eyes and dressed in striking red with a matching masquerade devil mask. You two stared at each other, both lost in each other's eyes.

Without thinking, Dante spoke.

"You wanna blow this place?" Asked Dante.

"Only if you share a dance with me first" You Replied.

"With a beautiful angel like you? Hell, how could I say no?" Remarked Dante winking. You giggled and soon you two took to a slow dance on the floor, your parents wondering who was this mysterious masked man dancing with you.

"Who is he? That man in the red masquerade get up?" Asked Mother. Father narrowed his eyes.

"I don't know. He looks familiar but I can't say I've seen him. Perhaps it's the hair" Remarked Father. When the dance ended, you two slipped away from prying eyes and snuck outside together, giggling and laughing all the way.

You spent that wonderful night with Dante under the stars, getting to know one another and sharing a few laughs. However, when the party ended and your family went looking for you, Dante fled into the night, leaving you with a promise to return again.

And the next night, he visited. You snuck out and even went into the city with him, took you to a diner where you and him shared a strawberry milkshake and some burger and fries. You wished this night wouldn't end and wanted to stay longer with the charming half-Devil, but sadly you knew your family would come looking and so with a reluctant sigh, Dante returned you home.

"Promise me, we'll still hang out together? Promise me you'll return" You Pleaded as you snuck back up to your bedroom balcony.

"I promise!" Whispered Dante and with a wink, he was gone into the night once more. You giggled and felt your heart flutter at just the mere thought of him as you lay in your bed that night, the sweet taste of strawberry milkshake still on your lips.

This continued for many nights and with each passing day, your love for each other grew. You hoped with time, maybe your parents might hear of Dante's good deeds and look upon him more favorably. But alas, that was not the case.

"Did you hear about that rogue Devil in red running amok? Causing nothing but damage to our city!" Spat Mother angrily.

"But he's just trying to keep the people safe from the demons and devils that try and hurt us!" You Argued. Mother laughed bitterly.

"You are much too young and naive to understand. He is the son of Sparda, a Hell spawn half-breed. He belongs in Hell with his family" Remarked Mother bitterly. Your heart clenched at such a harsh remark, knowing that only Dante and Vergil were the only ones left of Sparda's bloodline, Eva died during a demon attack and Sparda had vanished, presumably held captive or killed by Mundus. You knew Dante and Vergil still felt the pain of that tragedy.

"Mother, how can you say such cruel words? Don't you know those brothers still bear the scars of the tragedy that befell their mother?" You Asked, holding your hand over your chest.

"Don't feel sympathy for those Devils my child, they are nothing but monsters and god forbid should you associate with them. The very thought of you mingling with those vile creatures makes my blood run cold. You aren't in league with the Sparda twins are you?" Asked Mother, eyeing you suspiciously.

You shook your head.

"No Mother" You Replied.

"Good. The last thing I want is for my daughter to be tainted by such unholy creatures" Remarked Mother. You said nothing. It was clear that your parents still held deep hatred for Sparda and his sons.

You still continued to see Dante in secret, making sure to always keep a low profile, especially when in the city. He took you to Love Planet and though not the most romantic of places, he did make you laugh by swinging on the dance pole.

"You've got moves that's for sure!" You Laughed.

Dante chuckled along with you.

"Glad you enjoyed my little show for you" Remarked Dante sending a flirtatious wink that made you blush and giggle.

"Oh Dante" You Giggled as Dante sat beside you, wrapping an arm around you.

After a few drinks, you two shared your first kiss. It was sweet, passionate and very hot all at the same time. When the kiss broke, you were breathless.

"Wow!" You Giggled.

"I was thinking about doing that all day" Admitted Dante, a pink blush coming to his cheeks.

"Oh Dante, I love you but how are we to be together? My parents hate you and should they find out about us......God I shudder to think what they'd do to me.....to us" You Admitted sadly. Dante held you close, comforting.

"We'll find a way babe. We'll find a way. One day you and me will find a way to be together. No one will stop us" Promised Dante.

"You promise?" You Asked.

"I promise babe" Assured Dante.

And that night as you snuck back in, you still felt the lingering kiss on your lips.

One morning you awoke to the most dreadful news. You were to be married off to a wealthy man's son. You cried in your bedroom all day and night, dreading the awful future that surely was to come, until a pebble at your window caught your attention. You came out on to the balcony and saw Dante, smiling.

"Let me come in Y/N!" Whispered Dante. You wiped away your tears and allowed him to climb up and join you in your bedroom.

"You've been crying. What's wrong?" Asked Dante noting your tear streaked face.

"Oh Dante it's awful, I'm to be married off to some rich man's son and though I tried to protest, they wouldn't listen to me! I don't want to marry him! I wanna be with you! We don't have to marry if you don't want to but I just wanna spend my every waking morning and every sleeping night with you Dante! I love you, I don't want to lose you" You Sobbed.

Dante held you in his arms as you cried. It was then a plan had formed in his head. It was a huge risk but it's now or never.

"Then pack whatever essentials you need, whatever you consider valuable and let's leave together" Advised Dante.

"Tonight?" You Asked unsure.

"Tonight. We don't have much time. It's now or never Y/N. I don't wanna lose you either. I love you" Admitted Dante.

You smiled softly at your lover and he smiled back.

"So what do you say?" Asked Dante.

"Let us leave" You Answered.

That night, Dante helped you pack a bag and you two ran off into the night hand in hand together. No matter how hard they tried, your parents couldn't reach you or Dante. You both were left alone in peace.

And you two lived together, happily for years to come.

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Thanks again for requesting @xx-scene-queen-of-vampires-xx and I hope you enjoy the story! Thank you!

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