#and i will chalk some of that up to the fact that i’ve been off t for like 9ish months | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

beneathashadytree · 3 months ago

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LOVE YOU TO DEATH - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : slightly suggestive, making out, alcohol consumption, allusions to “sinning”/religious imagery, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : domestic fluff with lots of tension!

Word count : 4.5K words (oops…)

Additional notes : This has been a seriously long time coming🙏🏽 It was a commission made by a friend here on Tumblr, based off Type O-Negative’s song “Love You to Death”, and may or may not have gotten carried away with it (hence the delay and the absurd word count😭). Hope you like it!! And let me know what you think of this guys🫶🏽

Commissions are open!

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“Madame!”

The frantic call came from behind her, and with a practiced turn, she faced the red-faced man who’d been running up to her. Keeping her facial expression as placid as possible wasn’t as easy as she was trying to convince herself it was—and especially not after having spent 3 hours in a bedazzled ballroom, head splintering already from the wine and the rapid-fire conversations she’d had to entertain—but she somehow managed it. Coolly, she arched an eyebrow. “Yes?”

And though she eyed him with no disdain, her indifference was intimidating enough to force the man to swallow thickly and shift in his place. A flush had settled on his face, fueling her amusement as he took a hesitant step forward. “I… you said you were waiting for something. If… if you don’t mind, would you, well, care for a dance?”

Poor thing. He probably had no idea. She felt a little sympathetic, but her resolve was still hardened. After all, she was well aware that the only possible reason he’d deemed her fitting to approach in the first place was the fact that she was inarguably the most powerful person in the room. This was only mere exploitation, not actual admiration. His hesitation could be chalked up to intimidation. “Thank you, but I’ve got an escort.”

“But, please, you were talking about the firearms deal—!”

A rich chuckle resounded in her ear, followed by the soft smack of lips against her cheek in a kiss. Fond as that gesture was, the upwards flicker of crimson eyes was no less sharp as his gaze became directed at the overly-ambitious upstart. “I see you’re feeling rather bold tonight, Richter. Directly going for such business talks when asking for someone’s hand… a rookie mistake.” Punctuated by the hand settled on her waist, stroking over the silk, it was made more than apparent who her ‘escort’ was.

The young man’s face paled, and she couldn’t deny the twinge of enjoyment she felt as she played along with Sylus. “Indeed. Anyone else would be put off by such open exploitation.”

“But you’re not anyone, are you? I’d even say you like it when I bring up these things,” he quipped back, bringing her in closer by the waist and tucking her against him, before turning to the wide-eyed, speechless man whose trembling seemed to amuse him even more. “We’ll be off now. Be more careful next time.”

And though he said nothing more, it was clear that Sylus’ warning wasn’t just about being tactless. It was a reminder that the most poised, fanged woman in the room stood by his side, and no one else. The only secrets she’d divulge would be to him, in the confines of their own bedroom, and Richter would do well to remember it. Next time—if there ever were to be one—he’d make sure to remember it, or else he wouldn’t be as lenient.

Arm in arm, they left the stuffy ballroom together, and as soon as they were out in the open air, she heaved a sigh in relief. “Gods, I was about to suffocate. Everyone was going on and on about that deal.” Rolling her eyes, she stopped on the sidewalk to slip out of her heels, stretching her toes as they settled against the gravel. “Approached by ten different people, no less, all trying to butt in and include themselves to ensure some profit or the other.”

Within a second, Sylus had already kneeled down to take her heels, carefully twisting her ankle this way and that to try and soothe the ache of the long evening. She sighed again, and his gaze was hard as he looked up at hers. “You shouldn’t have let them bother you. You’ve got enough influence to prohibit them from ever mentioning it in front of you. And I wouldn’t mind exacting punishments in your stead.”

“A privilege I won’t be using any time soon, thank you very much.” With her heels in one hand, he began to steer her by her back with another. Frowning, she looked away from where she’d initially set her sights. “You didn’t let Luke and Kieran bring the bike around tonight for us to go on a joyride after?”

Sylus gave her a pointed look, slightly exasperated but still dyed in fondness. “Given the dress you’re wearing, I’d have to be particularly stupid to force you to hike it up to your hips to ride on. It would’ve been an entirely different thing if you’d worn one of your velvet suits, though.” Maybe he hadn’t noticed it, but his hand on her back was leaving fluttering touches and strokes over the small of her back, right where the fabric started. And maybe that was his little give-away that he enjoyed seeing every inch of exposed skin with that dangerously low-cut back.

It wasn’t long before they were sliding back into their respective seats in his sleek car. The fresh smell of new leather, cooled wine in the compartment, and something a little heady—a little him—made her grow dizzier with each second. Barely a few minutes had passed with her legs crossed when his own rough palm slipped through the slit of the dress and between her knees, gently prying them apart and gliding over the soft skin, before settling on her thigh right underneath the lace edge.

And though he’d done nothing else at all, save flicker his eyes back to her in the rear view mirror and quirk the corner of his lips upwards, squeezing her thigh before turning his attention back to the road, she felt like he’d bared a fraction of his mountain of carefully-hidden desires. And that was one mountain she knew only she had the ability to watch tremble and shake. Perhaps that was another privilege she had, standing by his side.

***

Sylus’ hands on her feet felt like a small piece of heaven made perfectly with her tired self in mind. After he’d carried her out of the car like she’d weighed nothing with her heels dangling from two of his fingers, he’d let her unlock the door with her fingerprint and quickly settled her into the couch without so much as a grunt. And soon his deft fingers were kneading at her soles, earning a hiss or two here and there that let him know he was definitely doing the right thing.

“I take it you failed to break into these new shoes,” he chuckled, shaking his head as he felt out another small knot that had been killing her the entire evening.

Groaning, she clutched at his wrist, the sudden pain sharp and unyielding. “Wasn’t exactly my priority, with so much going on. I was more preoccupied by the fact that Denise fucked up in the middle of the information chain. Had me cleaning up after her.” Despite her twitching, he went on massaging their tendons and muscles, until the frown on her face slowly morphed into a relaxed expression.

“Why do I have to keep telling you not to concern yourself with what’s beneath you?” Again, he sighed, as though it truly pained him to hear her putting herself through this, and then went on to reverently stroke at her calves, gently lifting her legs up for a second so he can take a seat in her place. “You shouldn’t have to do the dirty work. We’ve got lackeys for that.”

“You say that, but you’re really just pushing more work onto Luke and Kieran,” she scoffed, flicking his fingers away, instead pushing forward and draping herself across his lap, the slit on the side of the dress revealing more of her thigh as she did. A not-so-small part of her absolutely reveled in the way his eyes tracked her every movement, following the fabric as it slipped away and darkening with every inch of soft skin it exposed to his gaze. “And besides, I kind of like letting everyone know that I’m aware of everything going on, now and then.”

“An ego trip then?” Sylus teased, before bumping his nose with hers, hungrily taking in the catch in her breath. “Mm. Well, it’s a highly deserved one, sweetie.”

With her heart hammering in her chest, it was a wonder she could even come up with any sort of reply, let alone one with her whole heart and snark in it. “Flatterer,” she breathed out, eyes betraying her to glance at his lips, perfectly curled and awaiting her every beck and call. If she wanted to regain her senses any time soon and not completely surrender to the gaping maw of his desires, she had to pull back for a second.

And that she did, though her entire being protested to it. No disappointment marred his features; in fact, if she could call it that, she could detect a glimpse of deeper yearning burning behind his ruby eyes. “You know I don’t. Flatter, I mean. You’re just that good.” His words were double-edged. Her power in the position she held was undeniable, but neither was the fact that he never needed to win her favor to have her feelings in his palm.

It’s just that Sylus always did like the chase, more so than the ever-so-pleasant rewards he reaped afterwards. Part of him always urged her to let him earn her affection, and the wickedness within her wanted to see him grovel for it, just a little. And with how utterly infatuated he was—if those all-consuming eyes of his were anything to go by, in their blazing glory and darkened depths—he’d have no qualms with that. If he truly didn’t like going down on his knees for her, then why did he look so sinfully good doing it?

And why was that image of him imprinted in her mind, playing in an endless loop, tempting her to indulge more and more in his attentions?

Still at what she felt was a safe distance so as not to get devoured by him, she gently patted his cheek, her thumb stroking in rhythm with his own fingers wandering to caress her waist ever-so-tenderly. “Then, why not reward me for my proficient skills?” she coyly asked, nodding her head slightly to the rack so conveniently placed beside them.

“Isn’t it too late for that, sweetie?” he asked, though his arm was already reaching over to the assortment of wines he’d so carefully picked out and left to cool in their chilled compartments. Though Sylus had never said it outright, it was no secret to anyone around that he was a wine connoisseur of his own right. The fact that his darling only wished to indulge in the sweet, sweet aftertaste of ludicrously expensive alcohol with him only made him more eager to have it ready at hand—particularly for moments like these, when the sultry look in her eyes paired with her fluttering touch drove him half to insanity.

It wasn’t so absurd to say that he would do anything to keep her so pliantly perched on his lap, every bit as demanding of his attention as he was willing to give her all of him. And the saccharine smile that grew on her face as he reluctantly pulled away from her waist to uncork the bottle was proof that she knew just how desperate he was for her hands all over him and her eyes solely focused on him.

Expertly, he began to pull out the decanter, only to be stopped by her fingers snaking around his wrist, tugging it back. “Not feeling very patient. I’d rather not wait for it to be aerated.”

He chuckled—a deep, pleasant sound straight from the depths of his chest—clearly pleased by her brazenness. “Straight from the bottle and to the glasses it is. I like it when you demand what you want.” Maybe a few years ago, she would’ve flushed deeply at the manner in which she put herself on the line. But with him, she knew that there was no line, and there was no ‘out there.’ For he was a part of her, nestled between her breasts and buried deep inside her, dormant and yet so awake.

Hadn’t they both willed it to come this far? Hadn’t they both wished to be so entwined that all possible lines blurred and faded? And wasn’t this complete and utter surrender to one another only natural after such implicit involvement with each other? She didn’t mind it one bit, if it meant that he was as much as hers as she was his in every meaning of the word. Perhaps that’s why the prospect of being so bare in front of him wasn’t at all daunting. In fact, part of it even felt somewhat exhilarating.

“You make it a habit to bring out my most selfish traits,” she breathed out a semblance of a laugh, watching as he pulled out the two most luxurious crystal glasses he owned, reserved only for their late night wine-entrenched conversations. “I suppose you’ll have to do as I say then, to make up for ruining me like that.” Her voice dipped into a low purr, and she grinned at the flush that colored the tips of his ears, despite how focused he seemed on the task at hand. Like clockwork; like it was some sort of muscle memory he’d acquired over the years he’d spent enamored by her and the words spelled out by her tongue and coated in an almost-innocent tipsiness.

“I’m already bartending for you now. But you can have three more wishes before the night’s done,” Sylus lazily said, stoppering the bottle once again as the sweet scent of his favorite Merlot enveloped her senses; a scent dipped in promises and secret whispers of devotion.

Part of her wondered when she’d started finding drinking so enjoyable, particularly when with him. She couldn’t really think of a specific point in time when his lavish lifestyle had started imprinting itself on her, but somewhere down the line she’d begun to wait for quiet nights of winding down like this. Wrapped up in his embrace, her body heating up with every single one of his achingly tender caresses, both with his practiced fingers and his gaze full of intent… more often than not she ended up sprawled all over him, clothes in various states of disarray as he ravished her—heart, body, and soul.

Leaning further into him and hooking her leg around his waist, the fabric of her dress completely exposed her leg hip-down. She pretended not to notice how he faltered in his actions, momentarily distracted by her as he always was. After all this time, it still left a pleasantly bubbling feeling in her chest to see him react that way to her; like he was being bewitched by her silhouette for the very first time. Laughing, she asked, “And will that power over you vanish at midnight too?”

“It depends on whether or not you play your cards right,” Sylus simply said, after having topped off their wine almost right to the brim, splurging over her just like he always did.

He knew all too well that she could manage him just as expertly as she handled every extravagant ballroom, every meeting hidden in the shadows, and every viciously-worded deal. There were no wrong cards in her deck.

Remorse was something she should’ve been feeling at least a twinge of; engaging in Sylus’ hedonistic lifestyle wasn’t something she’d have been proud to admit a while back. But then again, everything was a whirlwind of passion and earnest intensity when it came to him. Getting caught up in the eye of the storm was no surprise. And when the storm had eyes that twinkled over twin glasses of red wine that matched it, and a smile so wicked and yet so unbeguiling as she was handed one to sip from, then there was nothing to stop her from hurtling towards the edge and accepting the devil’s hand.

Maybe she’d have to beg for heavenly forgiveness for indulging in all her vices, unabashedly. But Sylus had far too much to atone for, and if she knew anything about him, it was that he’d much rather get on his knees to please her than to plead for mercy from divine powers. And though he wasn’t below her at the moment, looking up with lascivious want, he made sure that his palm drawing shapes at the small of her back let her know just exactly how much he craved the closeness of her body.

She carefully sipped on the wine, savoring its tang and sharpness paired with its sweet warmth in the way she’d grown to enjoy, all without breaking eye contact with him. It was a calculated move; almost devious of her to do that when she knew that no matter how much he feigned being collected in front of her, it was no more than a front—one that quickly collapsed after she pulled the glass away and daring to lick drops of Merlot off her lip for a few more seconds.

She could practically feel him groan before she could hear it, and she wickedly flashed him her canines, intently pressing the inside of her thighs against his hip, soft flesh flush against his suit pants, the fabric between them not stopping him from feeling every inch of her. Still, her movements were languid and relaxed. It couldn’t have been the wine; she’d barely had a few sips, not even half the glass, and her drinking habits in public weren’t known for being excessive. But perhaps she was drunk on him and on this moment, and she could feel her body easing into that relaxed state that only he’d ever witness her in.

To the entirety of the N109 Zone, she was unmatched in power, with or without Sylus by her side. To be able to command a room with so much refined and perfected grace, she’d have to have already long demanded respect with her presence alone. But in his arms, playfully peering into his eyes and watching how they roved over every inch of her, and how his Adam's apple bobbed with his thick swallow, she was just a lover who’d stripped away all her inhibitions—and his. A lover he was clearly too entranced by to properly function, if the slight tremor that shook his hand and spilt a few drops of wine onto his throat was anything to go by.

And gods, just seeing the rouge staining his skin and slowly trickling down to his clavicles was enough temptation to drive her insane. Impulsively, she placed a hand on the broad planes of his chest, leaning in so close that she couldn’t escape the scent of his cologne and slight musk. Her tongue darted out, licking a stripe up his neck, and earning a sharp hiss of their name. “Spilled some wine,” she mumbled into his skin, as though that were enough of an explanation, lips sucking a deep red mark onto him. Tensing underneath her, his own hand instinctively dug deeper into her back, pressing them even closer together.

“Minx,” his deep voice rumbled, all out of sorts as though she’d sent him in a daze. Some pride swelled within her as she pulled back a bit to admire her own work of art, the soft skin marred by her stark claim on him. His silver hair had gotten mussed along the way, strands falling in front of his hooded, lust-addled eyes. Even if he hadn’t said it out loud, it was clear that she’d turned him to putty with just one kiss to his neck. With a smirk, she slowly took his half-empty glass of wine and set it on the coffee table beside the couch.

How many times had Sylus regarded her with this much unadulterated want, like if she disappeared for a moment he’d grow mad? She couldn’t count on one hand; couldn’t even begin to recall the first time he’d tied himself down to her. But there was something so dizzyingly satisfying about having such an intimidating man submit to her in every way. Something about the way his hand traced up a path to her shoulder blades, barely covered by the almost-backless fabric of the dress, and his eyes consumed her whole, wine-stained lips curled in a lovesick smile… something about him almost made her delirious.

“You’re the messy drinker,” she shrugged, feigning innocence as she hooked an arm around his neck and toyed with the silken hair at his nape, delighting in the way his eyes momentarily fluttered shut at the contact. “Can’t blame me for taking the chance.”

He inhaled sharply, then let out a breathy laugh as his now-free hand settled on her waist, perching her right on top of him and completely disregarding just how dangerously close he was to completely baring her with that open slit of the dress. “Though I disagree on that slight to my character, at least now you can’t blame me either when I take my chances.”

And then Sylus was kissing her, all softened lips and cherry-flavored lip balm showered in the headiness of well-warmed wine. His hands soothed her aching muscles and yet kindled fire to life underneath her dewy skin, while his tongue caressed hers like a lover’s touch after a long absence. He kissed her like he’d missed her; like he’d been wanting this for too long that he’d nearly forgotten how to breathe properly without her lips on his, and without her wet moans.

He swallowed her every sound like he possessed it—and her, with the greediness of a sun threatening to burn her world whole. But all he ever really was was the all-encompassing night, his shadows curled around hers and his reverent touch bathed in moonlight streaming through half-drawn curtains. Adoration seeped even through his sighs and soft-spoken mutters between stolen breaths, and she wondered if sin should taste as pure as it did from his mouth.

Her hand reached up and her fingers dug into his hair, seeking purchase to ground herself and try to regain an ounce of sanity. An impossible feat that was, especially when his hand had dipped to lightly finger her spine and elicit shivers from the depths of her, while his lips ravished her. Daringly, she nipped at his bottom lip, slightly raising herself off his lap for a moment as she relished in the shaky curse that left him. And with a swift tug, he pulled her back down flush against him, the carnal passion in his eyes completely drowning out his irises.

Not for long though, as the sudden jerk had caused a sloshing sound, and they were both made aware of the fact that it had slipped her mind to set aside her now-empty glass of wine. Whatever was left of it now stained Sylus’ shirt with rose splatters, the wet fabric sticking even more taut against his skin. The glass had already come precariously close to slipping from between her fingertips, with the way he’d distracted her from reality and all common sense with his wicked mouth—but now, he was positively drenched, and somehow, miraculously, without even an annoyed pinch between his eyebrows as he set her glass down.

Perhaps it was because he knew he was to blame for her spiraling in a haze.

Failing to hold back a chortle, she tried (to no avail, of course) to pat at his shirt with a tissue from the coffee table. “If it’s any consolation, pink suits you too,” she managed to make out between peals of laughter. “Though we could’ve bought a rose shirt instead. Less of a hassle, y’know. Infinitely easier to clean.”

Shaking his head as he snickered, Sylus extracted her hands off him, tissue and all, and she climbed off his lap so that he could move freely. “And make your life less interesting? Now, where’s the fun in that, sweetie?” He was quick to shuck off his clothes, throwing them off on the arm rest and running a hand through his hair.

Flushed and disheveled, with kiss-swollen lips and a dampened chest and neck, he looked like the epitome of godless and lawless beauty. No heaven would take him when he lived like he did, but he was a small piece of debauched heaven she stowed away for herself. And having him shirtless like this while she stood above him with shaky legs and warmth trickling through her blood like thick molasses was going to be the death of her.

“You’re getting drunk.” He didn’t ask it, merely stated it as an observation. It didn’t take her long to ponder it, and then she nodded, earning a huff of a laugh from him. He stood up, readjusting the waistband of his pants and gently picking her up in a clumsier carry than earlier. Her dress creased in his grip, but it seemed that neither of them had it in them to care at the moment, nor did it matter that her entire leg had slipped out of the slip. “Lightweight.” And that teasing jab was all he needed to say for her to know that their little fun had been put on hold—just for the night, of course, as he carried her off to bed.

“Like you’re usually any better. Spoilsport,” she bit back, though it held no malice and little force. If anything, fondness seeped into her voice, enamored by the realization that he’d pulled back for her. And how could she have it in her to complain, when he’d taken such good care of her the entire evening? Such tender-hearted care didn’t go unnoticed; not when her eyes only ever saw him, and her ears nestled against his chest could find solace in the rapid fluttering of his heartbeat.

“You’ll thank me in the morning, when you don’t have to nurse a hangover or a sore body.”

Climbing up the stairs shook her body in his embrace, and she tightened her hold around him. Unsurprisingly, as though he’d truly predicted it, she could feel herself growing more drowsy with each step he took, and it took her effort to keep her eyes half-open. Her words were little above a mumble when she replied, “Take my makeup off and I’ll double my thanks in advance.”

“Mm. I’ll ask to cash in, first thing when you wake up.” Even his voice sounded more distant now as she could vaguely sense him pushing their bedroom door open.

“Greedy.”

“And shameless,” came his soft agreement, before slowly setting her down on the plush mattress and nestling her head into her pillow. Her eyes focused on him for a second, taking in that lovelorn smile and affectionate gaze that always, always followed her, before non-verbally handing him her trust and letting go of him, leaving him to walk off.

And before Sylus had even come back with her makeup remover in tow, she’d already succumbed to the viselike grip of a blissful slumber, surrounded by the familiar scent of him all over their bed, and the soothing pressure of him on top of her, taking such achingly gentle care of her like he’d always promised to.

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mediumgayitalian · 8 months ago

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———

By all accounts, Will knows what he’s doing.

He still drives like a godsdamn maniac.

“Do you want us to die?” Nico hollers, cheeks aching from the force of his grin, belly flipping at the peal of Will’s laughter.

The bike is exhilarating, as Will weaves it around cars at unbelievable speeds, working with the bike like it’s a part of him, like it’s not a separate thing he has to move. He steers it with a natural ease Nico’s only really seen in some of the best pegasus riders in camp — he knows the machine intimately enough to anticipate how it moves, how it reacts. It really is an extension of his body.

He left any panic about gripping onto Will somewhere in Long Island — to let go would be suicide. He has to hold on to stay onto the bike, to know to lean when Will leans, to tense when he tenses. Besides that, he’s having fun. He’s not the one driving, so he’s free to rest his helmet on Will’s back and watch as the world whips by — dizzying, really, as the speed of the bike making the green-budding trees melt into the bright blue skies, mix with the tar black asphalt, glow under the sparkling sun. The whole world looks like sidewalk chalk after it rains, a swirling mass of colour and streaks as artistic or more than what it was before it was washed away. The only indication that they’re actually going anywhere rather than standing straight in the middle of a kaleidoscope is the spots of roadside green that pop up every now and again, or a heavy lean to the side and Will switches lanes.

As they pull out of New York, Will starts to slow down. The dizzying mass of colours calms until everything’s at a slow spin, as Will mellows out to a speed that can be registered on a mortal odometer. With less wind whipping all over, Nico can actually hear him.

“Better than a flying chariot?”

Nico grins. “Definitely.”

“Another great thing about this is that it has a CD player. Two-nothing for the sad hunk of wood.”

By great thing Will of course means the same four songs I’ve been obsessed with for a month playing over and over and over until you are ready to launch yourself off the bike and join the dead raccoon at the side of the road, but that still doesn’t manage to ruin it. Something about driving top speeds in the early spring air makes it hard to be annoyed about annoying.

(Or maybe it’s the way Nico can feel Will’s muscles shift every time he moves, or how he winks every time he catches Nico’s eye in the mirrors, or the lowkey kind of sinful the way he straddles the seat. But Nico is quite happy sharing a name with a river in Egypt, so he ignores these fun facts and continues to delude himself, an art in which he is become quite wondrously skilled.)

Somewhere between Jersey and Delaware, the traffic picks up again, so Will shouts for him to hold on and cranks up the speed. Nico clenches tightly around his waist, squeezing his eyes shut, this time, and listens to the roar of air as they shove through it fast enough to rival sound. When they’re drifting, again, Nico can feel an incline, and looks up just in time to watch Will exit off the highway.

“Are we here already?” he shouts, incredulous. He knows his ADHD makes him bad with time, but jeez — it can’t have been more than an hour, an hour and a half.

“Not yet,” Will says, barely having to raise his voice as they come to a stop, heel of his boot clicking on the pavement. He checks both ways and then, once nothing comes around the bend, pushes off and guides them down a winding back road, tipping around curves and speeding down hills. Nico’s stomach bottoms out every drop, and he can’t clamp down the giggle that pushes out his throat, as ridiculous as it is. Luckily, Will’s giggling, too.

In a few minutes, they pull up to an old, rusted gas station, with signs so old they’re hand-painted. Will kills the engine and flicks out the kickstand, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair. It’s such a tangled mess that Nico can’t help but reach out and tug on a lopsided curl.

“I didn’t think this thing needed gas.”

“It doesn’t!” He pats a dark piece of glass in between the handlebars. “It’s solar-powered. But I figured you could use a minute to stretch your legs, and frankly, if I don’t eat something soon I genuinely might cook you.”

“You forgot to eat today, didn’t you.”

“…No.”

As soon as he speaks, his eyes start to water. His throat swells. He holds his breath for a noble four seconds, and then starts wheezing.

Nico sighs heavily. “Dumbass.”

Hauling him upright by the collar, Nico drags him towards the little corner store. This, at least, is familiar. Will gets caught up in his work easily, and forgets to do things like eat or move or, on one particularly amusing occasion, breathe. (Just tipped right over, one day, onto the floor, mid-poultice. There is a chip on the side of the stone mortar to this day. Nico, Will’s other friends, and his siblings take shifts bringing it up to dunk on him properly. Last he checked, Lou Ellen commissioned Jake Mason to make a plaque to hang on the infirmary wall, memorializing the incident forever.)

“C’mon, stupid. Let’s get you a sandwich. And Benadryl.”

“I’m honestly fine,” Will wheezes, cheeks swelling slightly.

“Stop talking,” Nico orders. “You’re making it worse.”

Wisely, Will clamps up. That, or his throat is starting to close. Either is likely.

His stubborn determination to continue lying despite being literally allergic to it would be impressive, if it wasn’t so irritating.

A little bell rings by the door when Nico pushes it open, making the person sitting behind the counter look up.

“Ah,” they say sagely, folding up their newspaper. “Demigods.”

Immediately, Nico’s on alert. Before he can draw his sword, though, Will lifts a hive-spotted hand in a wave.

“Hey, Berchio,” he croaks.

The person at the counter — Berchio — smiles ruefully.

“Benadryl?”

Nico nods hesitantly, still a little wary at the stranger, but Will is starting to keen over, now, and Nico didn’t think to bring an Epi-Pen (since the allergy is totally avoidable, William, you are your own worst enemy), so he’s running out of options. “Please.”

Chuckling to themself, Berchio ruffles around a shelf by the checkout counter, locating the familiar bottle after a minute — Will gets himself into these situations a lot, he has a serious twizzler problem and should consider getting his own stash instead of lifting it from the Hermes cabin and then lying about where it went — and rolling towards them. The spokes of their wheelchair have little skull charms on them that make a pleasant tinkling noise as they spin, making Nico trust them instantly. He should get Chiron wheel beads. That’s sick as hell.

“Here, kid. Drink water, too, you’re going to dry yourself out.”

Will garbles out a thank you, choking down the medicine. As all meds do with Apollo’s children, lucky bastards that they are, it works quickly, and in minutes he’s breathing right again.

“Gods, I love oxygen.”

“You are a human disaster,” Nico informs him. “Like, hugely.”

Will takes a sip of his water, pondering that. “Is that more embarrassing for you, or for me?”

“Why the hell would it be embarrassing for me?”

“Well, since you like me so much.” Nico chokes. “I might be a disaster, but at least I don’t have a crush on one.”

“All this wheezing,” Berchio sighs. “This must be Nico?”

“The one and only,” Will says cheerfully. He reaches out and touches a warm hand to Nico’s throat, immediately clearing his airways. Now no longer struggling for breath, Nico darts out and punches him, hard, on the arm.

“Ow! Meanie!”

“You are such a derp-faced dweeb,” Nico hisses, fully aware he’s red in the face. “Why are you — why are you this way.”

“I’m gonna tell Chiron you were bullying me!”

“Tell him! I’ll tell him you were the one to sprinkle instant mashed potatoes all over the grass before it rained, not Cecil!”

Will snaps his mouth shut. “I told you that in confidence.”

Nico smiles smugly. “Well, that’s on you. My loyalties are about as secure as my parent’s relationship.”

“If you two are finished flirting,” interrupts an amused voice, making both of them jump. Berchio watches them with their arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a similar chiding way to Chiron last time he caught Nico attempting to sneak an entire tray of brownies from the kitchen (mark his words — as soon as he can shadow travel again, no other camper will be seeing a brownie as long as they shall live). They shake their head, tutting exaggeratedly. “My, my, Will, I’m beginning to understand why you mentioned him every time you opened your mouth. I figured you liked him, but this is ridiculous.”

For once, Will is the one to flush crimson. He stutters something entirely incomprehensible, gesturing vaguely towards Berchio, and then frantically towards Nico, and finally squawks something about trust and the breaching of it. He goes red to the very roots of his hair, clamping his own mouth shut mid-sentence and scowling something awful.

Suddenly, Nico gets it. This is why no one ever leaves him alone. Oh, he is loathe to give the assholes he’s friends with credit, but…

When does he ever get to see Will — confident, easy Will — go scarlet?

“So you like me,” he says, shit eating grin stretching across his face. “Oh ho ho ho.”

“Oh, shut up,” Will snaps, without any heat. “Last time we played volleyball you got a concussion ‘cause you couldn’t stop staring at my chest and took a ball to the face.”

“That — it was — that hit was malicious,” he sputters. “And how is it my fault you’re always ditching your shirt at the first available opportunity like some kind of whore? I couldn’t not look!”

“Avert your eyes, then, scoundrel!”

“I — don’t call me a scoundrel! You’re a scoundrel!”

“You’re both late, is what you are,” Berchio interrupts again. “Will, I assume you’re running an errand?”

Still a little flushed, Will nods. “Yes. Thanks, Berchio. We’re picking up parts in Roanoke, I just stopped for some food.”

“He forgot to eat this morning,” Nico pipes up. He figures that Berchio seems comfortable enough with Will that they can act as a disappointed authority figure, which will make Mr. Daddy Issues Solace crumple like a castle built on a pillar of sand — he needs the humbling. (Also, Nico will get him on a healthier track or die trying. It’s not fair that he gets to be a big hypocrite about good diet and eating and sleeping habits and then turn around and act a fool. Someone needs to watch out for the idiot, or he’s going to get himself killed, and then Nico is going to have to spend the rest of his life in the Underworld, yelling at him.)

“William.”

Nico’s theory is proven correct. Berchio stares at Will with the perfect mix of disappointment and concern, immediately triggering the scramble-to-please expression on Will’s face. He practically stumbles over himself trying to follow after him and get fed.

“Are you happy with a sandwich, Nico? I know Will’ll eat anything that even remotely looks like food, but most of us have standards,” they tease.

Nico snorts at Will’s offended pout. “Yeah, a sandwich is more than fine. Thanks, Berchio.”

After handing them both a sandwich they pull from one of the many fridges in the little convenience store, they guide them outside, parking their wheelchair next to the curb they sit on and joining them in a little picnic.

“So how do you know each other?” Nico asks, gesturing between the two of them.

Will answers first, because Berchio, who is a polite person with manners, takes the time to swallow their food.

“I stop here all the time,” he says, garbled, making both Nico and Berchio wince. Nico takes the initiative to kick him.

“Stop being disgusting and explain yourself without showing off the contents of your mouth,” Nico threatens, “or I’m going to stab you again.”

Will swallows, sticks out his tongue, and continues.

“First time I used the bike, I got it into my head that I should go visit my mom. Would’ve been fine, except I was thirteen and hadn’t been outside of camp in six years and got chased by a pack of empousai the second I left the city, basically.”

“I was collecting herbs and sensed him coming,” Berchio explains. “He crossed the borders I have set up; I hid him here. Now he stops by whenever he’s travelling to chat.” Berchio smiles warmly. “I appreciate the company.”

Will grins back. “Me too! Plus, I very much appreciate the herb exchange. Speaking of which, I have your goldenrod.”

He digs into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bundle. He hands it over to Berchio, who accepts it gratefully, handing over their own bundle to Will.

“And your witch hazel.”

“Berchio’s an Ipotane,” Will explains, catching sight of Nico’s furrowed brow. “They’ve been doing this healing stuff for centuries. They’re real good with salves.”

Nico shakes his head fondly. “Even when you’re being cool, you’re a nerd.” He gestures to the bike. “Taking your secret motorcycle to visit your secret mentor to learn more about healing. Gods, it’s like Apollo made you in a lab.”

“You take that back! I contain multitudes!”

“And now you’re quoting famous poems, dear gods, try to prove my point better, why don’t you —”

“Blah blah blah!”

Nico grins at him, rolling his eyes, and Will is just as playfully dramatic with his bit lip and hidden smile and the hair he tucks behind his ear like he does when he wants to touch somebody but isn’t sure if it’s invited. Nico answers the question for him, reaching out and flicking his knuckles as an excuse to touch his hands. Will takes it, beaming.

“Thank you for the food, Berchio,” Will says when they finish, leaning down to hug them. “We gotta get going, but I’ll be back in a couple weeks. I had a dream about an outbreak, so no doubt the infirmary will need restocked soon.”

“Bring your boyfriend next time,” Berchio suggests, grinning when Nico goes red at the term. “Watching the two of you was not unlike one of Sterne’s famous productions.”

“I take offence to that,” Will says haughtily.

“Good. You needed humbling.”

“Nobody appreciates me around here!”

Nico bites back the I do that threatens to escape his throat. Gods, he’s so embarrassing. Whoever taught him how to speak should have to pay for their crimes.

They head back to the bike, waving goodbye to the Ipotane and speeding off. The drive the rest of the way down south is much calmer, bellies full and energy somewhat spent, and it helps that there’s no traffic. Will cruises, keeping time with the sun that’s inching across the sky, ignoring Nico’s suggestion to attempt to race his dad. They arrive in Roanoke in good time, following Nyssa’s scrawled directions to the parts shop.

The shop is old, visibly, paint peeling and smelling strongly of car grease. As Nysa predicted, the person they speak to — a mechanic, by the look of her jumpsuit — doesn’t ask so much as a single question at the two teenagers rolling up to her doorstep, heading to the greasy shelves of car parts and grabbing what they need with a shrug.

“Well,” says Will slowly as she piles them on the counter, “that’s…more than I anticipated.”

Nico looks at the stack of twisted metal. He looks at the bike. Finally, he looks at his dumbass friend.

“Solace.”

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah?”

“Solace, tell me you have space to put this stuff.”

“Well, we can try the seat compartment?”

Nico buries his head in his hands. “Solace.”

“What!”

“You know what, lughead! We cannot do the one thing we came here to do! Gods!”

“I usually go on supply runs for the infirmary, okay!” Will cries. “That stuff is way less bulky! I forgot to compensate!”

Nico groans. At this point, they’re going to have to bus back, or something equally as stupid. And what are they gonna do with the bike? Gods, if Nico was here by himself and also maybe possibly with Reyna, who could share her strength, he’d just —

He stills.

“Oh, no,” Will says, pointing a stern finger, “oh, no, di Angelo, I know that look, you have been expressly banned —”

“Relax,” Nico grumbles. “Don’t you trust me?”

“With everything,” Will says automatically, then flushes for the second time that day. “But that is not the point —”

Deciding he will return to that later — and he most certainly will — Nico darts forward. Before Will can stop him, he puts both hands on the pile of parts, lunges towards the nearest shadow, and shoved them in, withdrawing as quickly as he can manage.

“Nico!”

He waits.

“Oh, you fuckin’ — you goddamn son of a mother!”

He checks his hands — still solid.

“I am going to smash you flat an’ feed you through a goddamn juicer! You fuckin’ heart-stopper!”

He grins. “I told you I could do some Underworld magic.”

“Underworld deez fuckin’ nuts!” Will stomps forward, grabbing Nico’s hands to do his own inspection. “What part of doctor’s orders are you missin’, huh? You think I wanna watch you fade again? You think I wanna —” His voice cracks, hands tightening around Nico’s wrists. Nico softens immediately, smug look melting into something gentler.

“Will.”

“You coulda died, Nico, you coulda faded to — to nothin’.”

“Will.” He flips his hands so his palms meet Will’s, and squeezes, smiling gently. “Feel my vitals, dork. Am I fading?”

Will exhales. “No.”

“Am I close?”

“…No.”

He squeezes again. “I’m fine, Will.”

“You scared me.” The anger in his voice has faded into something soft — something afraid. Suddenly the hands on his wrists feel more clingy than anything, and a twinge of guilt goes off in Nico’s stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezes Will’s hands one last time, and when that doesn’t do much, lets go to wrap around his cheeks, instead, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t mean to restrict you,” Will says softly. “It’s just — I worry, is all.”

Nico taps their foreheads together, smile pulling at his face. This, he can — this he can deal with. This version of Will, soft and nervous and caring, makes it a lot easier to slide his fingers into the mess of Will’s curls, to run his thumbs over his cheekbones and feel him shiver.

“Would that have anything to do with the alleged crush you have on me?”

Will grins. “It might.” One of his hands comes up to rest on top of Nico’s, brushing over his knuckles. “All your moonin’ after me had me looking twice, I guess.”

“You’re such a dick,” Nico scoffs, and yanks him down to meet him in the middle, laughing, swallowing his smile and relishing in the warm press of their bodies. It’s — gods, it’s everything, it’s a thousand times better than he imagined, and at the same time everything he expected. Will smells like wind and sunshine and his lavender shampoo, and his hands are roughened from all the antiseptic he has to use, and his lips are surprisingly chapped, but the press of his cheeks is soft, and the feel of him is overwhelming. It feels, as cliche as it is, like the final burst of a firework after watching the smokey trail of the rocket with bated breath, watching it crest the night sky before exploding, finally, amongst the stars, it’s like —

A cleared throat startled them apart.

“Anytime y’all feel like paying for those parts, it would be great.”

Will grins sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says, pulling out the money Chiron gave him. His grin turns sly, and Nico’s knees turn to jelly. “My boyfriend’s just super distracting.”

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vinylmango · 1 month ago

Text

Flower Delivery (pt.2)

crazy ex!Nicholas Alexander Chavez x black!reader

Warnings: obsessive behaviors, breaking and entering, gaslighting,

Word count: 1.3k

Note: Sorry about the delay, work has been kinda crazy recently. Anyways, some people were asking for a part two so here it is! Hope you like it!

part one

part three

masterlist

“Alright, that’s a wrap for today everyone!” The director shouted as you and your co-stars left the sound stage and headed for your respective trailers. You shut the trailer door behind you, exhaling when you heard the click of the lock.

Spinning around, a smile grew on your face when there wasn’t anyone or anything waiting for you this time. No more flowers, just the vaseful that remained on the side table, the tiny folded envelope left next to it, your name scrawled in Nicholas’ messy handwriting.

Huffing you grabbed the vase and card, throwing the card in the trash and walking over to the small stainless steel sink to dump the water from the vase. You hesitated, they were such pretty flowers, your favorite in fact. You shook the thoughts from your head as you dumped the water, watching it disappear down the tiny drain. You threw the flowers in the trash, pushing down on the trash can lid as it didn’t fully close due to the length of the flower stems. The lid finally shut with a little extra force as you set the now empty vase on the table.

A content sigh left your lips as you relaxed into the plush of the sofa, taking a moment before you decided to return to your apartment. Your phone ringing disrupted the quiet you had been reveling in, a stark contrast from the loud and active set that you had been on today. “Hello?”

“Hi Honey! How was filming today?” It was your mother, checking in on you for the day. Since you had moved away to Los Angeles from your hometown, hundreds of miles away, your mom or dad had called you every day, missing having you close.

“It was good. We wrapped for the day about 20 minutes ago. I’m about to head back to my place in a few minutes.” You explained, glancing at the time for a moment.

“How’s Nick? He’s a good guy for you, (Y/n/n).” Your mom asked, catching you off guard. You blinked a couple of times, making sure you had heard her correctly.

“Nick? When did Nick call you?” You asked, grabbing your bag and stepping out of the trailer as your eyebrows furrowed.

“Oh I just spoke to him earlier today. He called to wish your father a happy birthday.” She explained. “Speaking of, did you call your father yet?”

“Uh, no. Not yet. It’s been a hectic day.” Your brain was still stuck on him calling your family. “Uh, Mom, I’ve gotta go. Something just came up. I’ll call you tomorrow.” You said quickly, not waiting for her to respond before you hung up. You got out of your parked car, locking it before you walked up the driveway, going through your settings at the same time, trying to find the blocked contacts list to make sure he was still on it. Sliding your phone back into your pocket as you went up the front stairs and stood at your door. You placed the key in the lock, opening the door and looking around outside before closing it and locking it behind you, placing the latch lock on as well. “What the hell is wrong with him?” You mumbled under your breath thinking about how Nicholas called your parents again.

Turning the lights on as the sun now hung low in the sky, your cozy living room was bathed in a soft yellow glow. You hummed to yourself as you placed your bag on one of the chairs at the kitchen table, grabbing the watering can and walking over to the kitchen sink to fill it so you could water all the plants that were scattered around the living room and perched on the windowsills. “How’d filming go?” You dropped the watering can onto the large area rug, your eyes wide and mouth agape.

“What the hell!” You screamed, your vision blurry with unshed tears. You weren’t even sure why you felt the urge to cry, chalking it up to a fear response as you blinked the tears away and picked up the watering can that was now empty since its contents were soaking into the rug as you stood there. You threw the watering can at your ex boyfriend, rolling your eyes when he caught it, though the most that it would’ve done was bounce off of him.

“A bit dramatic, huh?” Nicholas chuckled as he set the empty watering can on your coffee table. “I like what you’ve done with the place.” He gestures around to the plants and slightly different layout from when he had last been there over a year before.

“Dramatic?” You questioned. “Dramatic.” A humorless laugh escaped you as you narrowed your eyes at him. “How did you get in here? This is breaking and entering.”

He dangled the key off of his finger. “Oh I just told Mr. Daniels that I lost my key at the airport and he gave me a spare.”

You gritted your teeth. This was the second time you had talked to your landlord, Mr. Daniels, about either changing the locks or something related to keys. “Get out.” You told him, pointing towards the door.

“Come on (Y/n/n), just hear me out.” His dark brown eyes bored into yours, and you weren’t sure why they were so disarming, why you were even considering listening to him right now.

“I’m calling the cops, Nick.” You told him as you shook your head. “You can’t keep doing stuff like this. Just leave me alone! We’re done! We’ve been done for a year! Let me be.”

“It was a mistake to let you go, (Y/n).” He shook his head this time, the cocky look on his face replaced by something genuine and sad.

“You made your choice. We both did.” You interjected. “We aren’t little kids anymore, we’re adults. Start acting like one and accept that.”

“You know the cops won’t do anything.”

“Maybe, but I’m going to get a restraining order if you don’t stop. You need to stop and...and don’t call my parents! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You never told them that we broke up, did you?” You watched as a smirk began to pull at his lips.

“What?" Your voice faltered. "Don’t flatter yourself.” You scoffed at the tone of his voice. “I have told them…and if you don’t leave now, I’ll tell them everything else and we’ll see what they do.”

Nicholas rolled his eyes. “Well, I wouldn’t be here if you hadn't blocked me.”

“Ok, well...Goodbye.” You said, pushing him towards the door. You gave him one final push, though you were pretty sure he definitely could’ve put up more of a fight if he had wanted to.

“I’m sure I’ll see you around, huh?”

“Goodbye Nicholas.” You repeated, not answering his question as you closed the door in his face, locking the latch back once more. Sure, you hadn’t answered his question, but you both knew the answer anyway.

It was unavoidable, Hollywood was way too small to avoid him forever whether that meant seeing him at awards shows, working together on the same project, or just seeing him around, you knew he would never actually leave, and for now he seemed content with that knowledge and you were content with the conclusion of the night.

The living room returned to silence as you sat down on the sofa. You pushed your hair from out of your face, twisting a piece around your finger before letting it go.

For now, things were manageable. Maybe you would regret it later, but you had convinced yourself, however naive your thought process, that you would deal with him later. He wasn’t a real threat, he was just annoying.

Future you could handle it.

Let me know if you want to be on a permanent tag list.

#black!reader #nicholas alexander chavez #nicholas chavez x reader #nicholas chavez x black!reader #nicholas chavez x poc!reader #poc reader #nicholas chavez #vinylmango #black reader #nicholas chavez imagines

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inurnctdreams · 6 months ago

Text

00:00 - l.dh

idol!haechan x gn!reader

genre: fluff, established relationship, drabble

warnings: swearing, suggestive, mentions of sex, pet names (baby, hyuckie)

wc: 0.7k

“happy birthday dear hyuckie, happy birthday to you!”

“hi baby, thank you.” donghyuck’s voice is quiet and slightly raspy. nothing you haven’t heard multiple times before, but not what you’d expected when you’d called your boyfriend at exactly midnight in his current time zone.

“did… did i wake you up?” you frown, and your voice must betray your disbelief if his cute little chuckles over the line are anything to go by.

“maybe, i fell asleep like twenty minutes after i ate dinner.”

“were the guys not with you?” you pout. you’d at least taken some comfort in the fact that he’s surrounded by the rest of the dreamies for the start of his birthday if you can’t be there.

“they’re here.” he says. “our intention was to stay up.”

“and you all fell asleep? that’s actually really fucking funny.” you can’t help the giggles that escape you at the thought of all seven of them crowding in one hotel room to see donghyuck’s birthday in, only to not make it to midnight.

“yeah, i guess we were all pretty tired.”

“wait, does that mean i still got to be the first person to say it?!” you say excitedly. it’s not yet his birthday where you are, but you’d be damned if you were gonna let a silly thing like time zones come between you and making sure your boyfriend started off his day showered in love, albeit virtual.

“uh-huh.” he smiles, leaving out the fact that he’d been planning on answering your call before anyone else could wish him happy birthday anyway. you’d been so cutely adamant that distance wouldn’t stop you from being the first. “i miss you so much.” you almost don’t hear the whisper. if you didn’t know him so well, you’d chalk the voice crack up to him only just waking up.

“i miss you too, baby. twenty-one hours.” you let yourselves sit with the bittersweet feeling for a moment. tears begin to form in your own eyes but you blink them away. “i cannot wait to give you your presents, i think i’ve outdone myself this year!”

“all i need is you.” he elongates the vowels in ‘you’, trying to match your cheery tone.

“ew, stop being so greasy! plus, you love presents and i’m still mad my master plan to have them sent to you was ruined.”

“management did have a point about the shipping time issues, plus this way you can see me open them properly.” he reasons. “i can’t wait to hug you again.”

“just hug me?” you smirk.

“this was supposed to be a cute, innocent birthday call, not phone sex!” he gasps dramatically, sending you both into another fit of giggles.

“okay, okay.” you relent. “i guess the whole point of birthday sex is to do it in person.”

“tease.”

“we did not need to hear that.” another voice chimes in, clearly muffled and far away.

“why are you even on the phone so late?” mark questions, sounding closer than jaemin had. “oh shit dude, happy birthday!”

“is it already midnight?” jisung’s voice is muffled, and then you hear rustling and yells for the other boys to wake up.

“i’ll let you go, have fun with the boys!” you smile.

“no!” hyuck immediately whines.

“it’s okay baby, have a good morning and let me know when you’re boarding and landing, yeah?”

“fine.” he sighs, and you can hear the pout in his voice. the mental image of him, bedhead and traces of sleep, has you mourning the fact that you can’t squish his cheeks or kiss his forehead. yet, you remind yourself. “i’m gonna cuddle the shit out of you as soon as i get back.”

“i’m holding you to that.” you smile, ignoring the fake gagging sounds in the background.

“get some rest too, i know you have work in the morning.”

“i’ll try.” you knew it would be difficult to settle your restless brain but he was right, you did have work, plus the stuff you’d planned for when he got home that you had managed to keep a surprise. “happy birthday, hyuckie. i love you.”

“i love you too.” you glance down at your phone when the call ends.

twenty-one hours.

#donghyuck x reader #haechan x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop x reader #lee donghyuck x reader

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luci4theminorannoyance · 6 months ago

Note

Please can you do platonic 141 x reader x romantic(??) Ghost where the reader is addicted to painkillers? Like going through a pack per day and practically inhaling them before and after a mission. Its something went under the radar but somehow came to their attention Thank you!! xx

(Its ok if your not comfortable writing this)

a/n: sorry this took forever to post! I’ve been on a break recently to have a social interaction month I guess and things have slipped- also I’m quite alright with writing this! Tell me if I messed anything up of course as always because it’s my first time writing for lots of things

ghost:

-feels utterly horrid for not realizing the details, for gods sake he was dating you! He should have picked up on it, he should have done something, he should have! It makes him sick to his stomach that he wasn’t the first one to notice either

-it was gaz who told him, gaz… it made him feel so guilty that he hadn’t noticed before others did. Apparently gaz had noticed the little signs before him and had caught you after you had downed a pack of the medbays stored pain meds that were supposed to be lock

-was half scared to talk to you about it, but knew he couldn’t make it worse. So when you both luckily got some time off, he sat you down and held you close and just… talked. No special goal; just talking. And then he got you to sign up for some mental and physical help to work on getting off meds that he was so worried about you because of

gaz:

-froze in place when he saw you in the med bay. Sure he had expected something for quite a while, ever since you joined the team in fact he could clock something was off with you but he chalked it up to him being overly worried

-that was quite a bit ago, and you two have been good friends for so long now that he had grown blind to little warning signs

-he was frozen for a long time just looking, taking in the idea of someone he cared so much doing something he didn’t expect. Not that it was your fault, but it was truly unexpected

-he didn’t know what else to do so he dashed knowing you hadn’t saw him and told ghost, but didn’t think to tell price or soap

soap:

-wasn’t told till you were on break to get off painkillers, and utterly livid nobody had told him!! He wanted so so badly to comfort you but knew you probably didn’t need extra events during recovery, so he waited on his nerves end until you came back to base and utterly showered you in gifts as soon as you got back, chocolate, snacks, gifts galor

-he wanted to make up for not knowing, for not being able to help or reach you before hand, and gifts seemed to be the best way. He’s just always so glad your here and that you are getting better, albeit slowly

price:

-ghost had told him the day after your talk, and he was just utterly shocked, even more so then gaz to be honest… and he felt so guilty, why? Because he had brushed off the medbay nurses reports of missing pain meds for months thinking it was nothing big

-he’s your captain! He’s supposed to watch out for you, he’s supposed to be there for his team, that’s his damn job

-laswell had to slap him out of guilt to get him back in shape, and he promptly gave you and ghost the next month off, but made sure ghost would update him

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supernovafics · 2 years ago

Text

𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆

pairing: college!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k words

summary: in which a plethora of coincidences keep pushing you and steve toward each other and you kind of hate it

warnings: slight!fuckboy steve, explicit language, angst, some fluff

author’s note: hope y’all enjoy<3333 (full folklore series masterlist here!)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string tying you to me?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

You didn’t know his name, but you saw him almost everywhere.

Actually, you did know his name, Steve, but you didn’t really know him.

What you did know was that he had been a shitty group partner to have last semester for a history class, and that he had an on-again/off-again, more so off-again, relationship with your roommate who you had a polite but surface-level friendship with. He also frequented the diner you worked at a few minutes off campus with his basketball friends and dates; and you couldn’t help but notice that it was always a different girl each time.

Even though there were a bunch of opportunities for something to happen between you two, you’d never had an actual conversation with him. Not that you necessarily wanted to. But, after having the plethora of instances where you could’ve talked to one another, it sometimes surprised you that you didn’t at least have some sort of a friendship with this guy you’d see way too often.

You chalked it up to the fact that even though you two would share passing glances every so often with one another, you’d never been in a one-on-one situation with him.

Until you finally were, and it was in perhaps one of the worst and weirdest ways possible.

You were walking down a random aisle on the fourth floor of the campus library when you bumped into Steve. Well, “bumped” is a bit of an understatement because you quite literally tripped over him.

For some reason, he was sleeping in the middle of the aisle, and you didn’t notice until it was too late since your eyes were solely trained on the shelves as you searched for one book in particular.

“Jesus Christ,” You yelped as you tumbled to the ground, glad that your brain thought quick enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant.

When you looked at what caused you to fall and saw Steve leaning against a bookshelf with his legs out, you inwardly groaned because, of course, it was him.

“Ouch,” He said with a small yawn as he rubbed the leg that you tripped over. “Weird wake-up call.”

“Why the hell are you sleeping here?” You asked as you started to get up.

“I was trying to study for a test and then I got tired,” He shrugged and then finally looked at you. “Hey, you look crazy familiar.”

You almost laughed at that and thought about simply walking away from him, but decided against it. The universe clearly wanted you two to have a conversation with one another, so you decided to finally give it what it wanted.

“We were in the same group for a history project last semester,” You answered.

“Oh yeah,” He said and his eyes cast downward. “Sorry about that. I know I was probably the worst person in that group.”

“Very, very true,” You nodded, although you were no longer upset about that whole situation. Not that you were ever truly mad, anyway. “Also, you had, or maybe still have, some sort of fling going on with my roommate. Lissa.”

“That is definitely a past tense thing,” He responded with so much certainty that you silently wondered what happened between them. You weren’t close enough with Lissa to talk to her about that sort of thing, though.

“I think I’ve seen you somewhere else though, too,” Steve said and then thought for a moment. “Oh, you work at that diner, right?”

“Yup, mostly weekends but some weeknights too.”

Steve nodded at your words. “Huh, surprised we never talked before.”

You didn’t tell him that you had been thinking the same thing and instead decided to sit down across from him putting your legs out as well. “What class are you studying for?”

“Psychology,” He answered and then showed you the textbook next to him, which looked eerily familiar.

“With Dr. Brooke?”

Steve nodded and you fought the urge to look around to see if you were on some sort of elaborate prank show. Because it didn’t fully make sense to you how all of these fucking coincidences were happening.

“I’m in that class too,” You responded after a brief stint of silence.

In this case, it kind of made sense that you didn’t know he was also in that class because it was huge, with at least a hundred fifty people in that auditorium-type room.

“Wow,” Steve verbalized the surprise you were inwardly feeling. “Weird.”

You couldn’t help but finally let out a small laugh. “‘Wow’ and ‘weird’ are probably the understatements of the century.” You pulled your legs up and wrapped your arms around them. “I think we kind of have to be friends now. These coincidences are too fucking insane to not be.”

He smiled at you and there was something about it that made you fully understand why he so easily had a new girl to bring to the diner every week.

“What if I take you on a date?”

A part of you immediately felt surprised by his question and how abrupt it was. However, the other part of you sort of saw it coming because it made a little bit of sense. Case in point, the fact that you would frequently see him with a new girl. Asking someone out was probably equivalent to breathing for him.

“No,” You answered simply before standing up.

You didn’t notice the immediate confused look on his face as he followed suit and abruptly stood as well.

“Why not?”

There were a lot of reasons you could’ve given him as the answer to that question. Such as how he’d been with your roommate, and although you weren’t best friends with Lissa, something about it still felt at least a little wrong. Or the fact that the thought of being added to his list of conquests made you feel physically ill.

“I’d just rather not,” You ultimately answered with a small shrug and then started walking away. You quickly pushed away your lingering thought that told you that if the circumstances were different you would’ve fully considered saying yes to him.

Steve didn’t follow you as you walked away. Instead, the wheels in his brain started turning as he thought about how he could get you to go out with him, something told him that you would be harder to get than the majority of girls he’d been with before.

However, he never shied away from a challenge. In fact, there was a part of him that loved them.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“time, curious time. gave me no compasses, gave me no signs. were there clues i didn't see?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Somehow through the hordes of people, Steve managed to find you the next day in your shared psychology class, and he sat right next to you.

“Hi, friend,” You said when you noticed him and smiled.

Before he could say anything in response, class started and the professor started speaking, almost immediately jumping into the lecture; and he was very intense about his no talking policy. As you half-listened to him discuss the final chapter that would be on the test next week and tried to take somewhat useful notes, you were interrupted by Steve bumping your elbow with his and sliding his notebook over to you.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the action before you read what was written in the margin.

Do you like pizza?

You almost laughed at the randomness of the question. You met his curious gaze for a brief moment and then wrote your response.

Obviously. I’m not a psycho

You pushed the notebook back to Steve and then went back to paying attention to the lecture. Moments later, he slid it back toward you.

Wanna get some tonight? I know a really good place a few minutes off campus

If it’s just a friendly hangout then yes

No. Date?

You rolled your eyes at the question and moved the notebook back toward him without saying anything. You could see in your peripheral that he was adding something else before pushing the notebook to you.

Please?

You crossed out that question and his previous words, and then under it drew a tic-tac-toe board, putting an X in the middle.

You watched as Steve made his move, an O in the top left corner, and then wrote something else.

If I win, will you say yes?

Your one worded response was immediate.

No.

And then you made your move, putting an X under his O.

He didn’t write anything else, which you were actually surprised about, and instead just continued playing tic-tac-toe. You won the first game, and then he won the next two, and you were close to starting another one with him, because you wanted to redeem yourself, but you forced yourself to listen to the end of the lecture.

“So pizza date tonight? I’ll pick you up at 8?” Steve asked when class was over, and the both of you started packing your things.

You laughed a bit. “I think we have very different memories of the conversation that just took place in your notebook.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you were glad when he was bombarded by a few of his basketball friends. You used that opportunity to slip away and out of the room without having to say anything else to him.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“gave me the blues and then purple pink skies. and it's cool, baby, with me.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Surprisingly enough, when Friday night rolled around, Steve showed up at the diner alone; for the first time probably ever.

You didn’t say anything to him aside from giving him a small wave, which he returned with a smile.

You weren’t the waitress taking care of him that night, and you could tell that Casey, who you worked with most nights, was also surprised to see him by himself because just like you, she was used to seeing him with girl after girl.

Toward the end of your shift, you slid into Steve’s booth, sitting across from him. “You’re probably bored out of your mind being here alone, aren’t you?”

He shrugged nonchalantly and then took a bite from one of the few stray fries left on his plate. “I’d rather be alone if it’s not gonna be you sitting across from me.”

You pretended as if his words had no affect on you, even though they slightly pulled at your heart. You had to remind yourself of his track record, most of which you’d seen firsthand. And because of that, you also reminded yourself that you could only be friends with him.

“Very smooth,” You said and then slid back out of the booth. “But, also probably the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard.”

“It’s the truth.” You heard him say as you walked away, and you couldn’t help but smile as you rolled your eyes.

Barely ten minutes later, he went up to where you stood behind the counter putting napkins in a dispenser. His bill was paid and you had expected him to leave at any moment, and you hated that the thought of him leaving made you feel a little bit sad.

“What time are you done here?”

You met his gaze. “In exactly five minutes, actually.”

“Can we do something after?” He asked and when you tilted your head at him, he followed up with, “I promise I only have the friendliest of intentions.”

“I finally brought you to the friendship side?”

“No, but for this instance, yes.”

That managed to make you smile a bit. “Can we go to that pizza place you were talking about? If they’re still open?”

“Yeah, it is. They close at three because the stoner crowd usually shows up around one and that’s peak business.”

“Makes sense,” You nodded. “I don’t drive, so I’ll meet you at your car.”

A confused look crossed Steve’s face. “You don’t drive? How do you get here?”

“I walk from my dorm, it’s only about ten minutes,” You answered with a small shrug.

“Oh, okay,” He responded, and didn't say it aloud to you, but he now knew that he would make it his mission to pick you up at the end of your shifts so that you wouldn’t have to walk alone in the dark anymore. “I’ll meet you outside.”

When you stepped out of the diner, a minute earlier than expected, you were quick to get in Steve’s car.

“Do you have a sweater or something I could wear? I left my jacket at home,” You asked, not really thinking too much of the question because you hated wearing the baby blue dress that was your uniform anywhere other than the diner.

Steve reached into the backseat and handed you a hoodie, which you immediately slipped over your head. The hoodie swallowed you whole and made it look as if you weren’t wearing anything underneath, but it felt so comfortable that you couldn’t even bring yourself to care.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“hell was the journey but it brought me heaven.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“What are you thinking?” Steve asked when you both finally decided to leave the pizza place around two in the morning. He had walked you to the passenger side of his car, but before you opened the door to get inside, you turned around to face him and you didn’t say anything as you met his eyes, which was what prompted his previous question.

There was a lot that you were thinking right then, and most of the thoughts surrounded the fact that you had thoroughly enjoyed yourself on this “non-date” with Steve. He was genuinely nice and funny, and such a fucking charmer that it made you want to roll your eyes while giggling at his words. And he was being honest about keeping things friendly for the most part, although you had a feeling that not being a least a little flirty was impossible for him.

And it was all of that put together, that made one thought sit heavily at the forefront of your mind.

“I think I wanna kiss you,” You finally answered, and you were surprisingly not scared by your complete honesty.

He smiled at that and his hands found your hips as he moved the tiniest bit closer to you and his next two words came out softly. “Do it.”

You had to pull your eyes away from his because you were so close to listening to him.

“I can’t.” Your voice was quiet.

“Why not?”

“Because I really just want us to be friends.”

“We can still just be friends even if you kiss me right now,” Steve told you, and although you were unsure if you fully believed him, you still decided to take his word for it and you pushed yourself up on your toes a bit to press your lips against his.

You could tell he was initially surprised by the abruptness of it, but he kissed you back almost immediately. Your arms came up to wind around the nape of his neck to steady yourself as your back was pressed into the side of the car.

It felt almost surreal how much better this was than you thought it would be. Your mouths moved against each other so seamlessly, almost as if this was already something that had happened a million times before.

You expected to be able to kiss Steve once as a way to sort of get the attraction you felt toward him out of your system so that you could then let things become completely normal and solely friendly between you two. But, right then– with his lips against yours, and one hand on your waist and the other cupping your cheek– you were hit with the sudden thought that you would need this to happen so many more times.

You didn’t necessarily want to pull away from Steve at that moment, but you had to because you were completely out of breath.

“That was— That was really good.” Your lips were still tingly as you licked them and you felt slightly light-headed, but in a good way, if that was possible.

Steve pressed a chaste kiss against your cheek. “You sure you wanna still be just friends?”

That was the question that you now were unsure of the answer to.

However, a small “yes” was what you responded with after what felt like a year’s worth of silence, and you could hear exactly how unconvincing you sounded.

Steve nodded and you could tell that he was pretending to believe you. “Okay.”

He was about to finally pull away from you, but you stopped him. “What if…What if we are just friends, but we can kiss and maybe do other things,” Your mouth was moving much quicker than your mind could fully process the words you were saying. And you weren’t entirely sure how you felt about what you were proposing, but most of it seemed really good to you. “But, you shouldn’t date people, and I won’t either.”

“Okay,” Steve responded, smiling amusingly at your words. “But, this is starting to sound a lot different from a friendship.”

“Shh,” You said as you slotted your lips against his again. You knew how all of that sounded, but it made you feel a little better about the situation you were putting yourself in because you convinced yourself that you couldn’t get hurt this way. And aside from kissing Steve, not getting hurt was all that really mattered to you right then.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“one single thread of gold tied me to you.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

let me know ur thoughts<333

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #joe keery x reader #stranger things fic #steve harrington #stranger things fluff #stranger things smut

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captinamericashusband · 3 months ago

Text

Sober Thoughts | Steve Rogers/Captain America x Stark!Male!Reader

REUPLOAD A/N: Hi. It is currently 12:41 AM – another restless night unfortunately sigh. After watching a YouTube video of someone reading the infamous Harry Potter fanfiction My Immortal (I love you Ebony Dark'ness Dementia Raven Way), I became filled with unbridled inspiration to write something of my own. Anyways, enjoy! Also this is the very first fanfiction I’ve ever written. Please please please (by Sabrina Carpenter) give constructive feedback that won’t be too harsh on my little soul. This’ll be a fluffy fanfic. I'll dabble in smut later on maybe if y'all enjoy this enough...teehee. Happy BRAT summer/autumn 💚

P.S. Any errors you see will be excused by the fact English is not my first language and NOT because I suck at writing and revising ;) This fic will also be posted on Ao3 after they accept my invitation. Pls let me in Ao3.

Sober Thoughts

Word count: 4.7k

Summary: Y/N gets very drunk in front of Steve

Warnings: Alcohol, profanity

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Being the son of Pepper Potts and the eccentric billionaire, playboy and philanthropist (in that exact order) Tony Stark came with its fair share of drawbacks. While financial security was a given for Y/N, a side that came with this coverage was endless PR events. Being the sole heir to the Stark company, Y/N was forcefully thrusted into the public eye at a very young age, constantly forced to appear at social gatherings for the general public to gain somewhat of a perception of him – hopefully for the better. Today was one of these socially exhausting days, and perhaps his least favourite event of all – the annual ‘Stark Gala: proceeds going to various charities!’ A boring name he is very well aware of, and yes the ‘proceeds going to various charities’ line was annoyingly part of the title – something he had so valiantly fought Tony on, albeit unsuccessfully.

The gala starts in 2 hours. Currently, in stereotypical Stark fashion, Y/N lay sedentary on his bed, staring at the ceiling whilst pondering for ways to escape the tiring event. Amidst his angsty mood, a knock arose from his door followed by Tony entering his room.

“Hey bud, no more moping around,” he said after flipping the light switch in Y/N's room, “gala’s not gonna dance itself.”

Y/N turned and laid on his belly, eyes stuffed into his pillow in an attempt to suppress the bright lights, “What if I just don’t come, dad? Just chalk my absence to a cold for the press, please. I have no will nor strength to do this.”

“You know you can’t do that, Y/N/N. The public requests you grace them with your holy presence at the gala.”

“Dad, what if I just set fire to the venue?”

Tony scoffed at his son's comment. “Don’t bother with that sassy attitude, kid. It’ll be over in a flash. Just enjoy, grab some drinks – and hey you might even find yourself a nice date there.” He said, adjusting a frame on the wall. “My best advice is mingle until your mouth falls off – my dad used to say that to me.”

As Tony continued slightly tidying Y/N's room, a muffled groan erupted from his pillow. Y/N knew he was very well right; there was no escaping. Resigning to his fate, he abruptly stood up from his bed and began rummaging through his closet. “Fine. I’m going because I want to go, not because you’re forcing me to.”

Tony chuckled and ruffled Y/N's hair. “That’s the spirit, champ. I promise you these things can be fun if you let them. Soak up the atmosphere. And enjoy the drinks.” He then murmured, “Just not too much, as well ‘cause…you know.”

Tony’s sudden shift in tone was in reference to Y/N's relationship with alcohol. While Tony was notorious for being able to hold his liquor, the alcohol-tolerance gene had unfortunately not been passed down to his son. The last time Y/N drank, which had been at Clint’s birthday party, he had somehow woken up inside of a dumpster – not even exaggerating. Another time, he had taken a plane to Washington and found himself passed out on a bench outside the Pentagon – also not a hyperbole. Aware of this knowledge, Y/N planned on getting absolutely wasted in order to pass the time and to make the night somewhat memorable.

Y/N ran a hand through his hair attempting to fix it whilst looking for proper attire. “Yes, yes I know, father figure. Do you promise it won’t be boring like last year?”

Tony feigned an offended look, putting his palm against his chest. “Boring? There was an open bar and a chocolate fountain – all appearing again this year, by the way. What more could a man ask for?”

“To not come.” Y/N said begrudgingly.

“Okay well sometimes certain things can’t be provided, sugar plum.” A grimace found itself on Y/N's face after hearing the nickname. Before he could respond, Tony was already halfway through the door. “Anyways, be ready by 8; we’re leaving at 8:30 sharp.”

------------------------------------

The night was, to say the least, already an absolute dread. Upon arriving at the upper-echelon-esque museum where the gala was being held, Y/N was already drained. After exiting the limousine that took both him and Tony to the museum, a torrent of camera flashes had blinded Y/N. Furthermore, before even entering the museum, a news reporter had shoved a microphone into his face and asked a very invasive question about his lovelife. Before Y/N could insult the reporter’s rude behaviour, Tony quickly grabbed his arm and ushered him into the museum.

It was very well aware by the public of Y/N's choice of abstaining from dating, never really having any serious relationships. This was especially questionable for the public considering who his father was, with everyone believing Y/N would’ve followed in lieu of his behaviour during his 20’s.

However, what the public didn’t know was that the reason for Y/N's singleness was because of one of his dad’s blonde colleagues (that wasn’t Thor). Y/N's crush for Steve Rogers AKA Captain America had simmered for the last few months. It began during an incident in the Avenger’s Compound in which the inherent Stark idiocy had decided to bite Y/N severely in the ass.

------------------------------------

It had been late at night and Y/N had been tinkering on some project in one of Tony’s spare workshops in the compound when his phone suddenly rang. Picking it up, he saw Tony was calling him. He paused the music blaring in the workshop’s speakers before answering his dad.

“Hey bud, I have a favour to ask.”

“What is it, father figure?” He set down a screwdriver he was holding down on the workshop table.

“First, you know I hate it when you call me that. Second, there are some files that were delivered to my office that need to be put into storage in the room beside the training area. Would you mind doing it for me?”

“And why can’t you get Happy or yourself to do it?”

“Well I am actually currently at dinner right now with your mother and we are having a blast right now, and Happy is enjoying a paid holiday in the Bahamas.”

With an overexaggerated sigh, Y/N hung up on Tony and accepted without further question.

Heading towards Tony’s office, he marvelled at the emptiness of the Avenger’s Compound. While he never interacted much with the Avengers, only in passing, he was aware that some of them were nightowlers. However, there really was no one. Usually, there would be at least a SHIELD agent somewhere, but tonight the building was completely desolate.

Upon arriving at Tony’s office, Y/N immediately noticed the large boxes propped on his dad's desk. He had clearly underestimated the sizes of the office boxes, with one he (very dramatically) guesstimated being the size of his torso’s length with a width of a baby whale. Unfortunately for him, there were 5 boxes in total. Being the impatient ass he is, he had decided to carry all of the boxes in one go to spare himself having to return to Tony’s office for a second trip. He noticeably struggled and after leaving Tony’s office, he immediately regretted his decision, wishing he inherited more of his mother’s patience. From a bystander's perspective, it was a comical sight seeing Y/N Stark carrying a tower of boxes almost twice his height.

After rounding a sharp corner – something that could’ve been easily avoided considering the size of the building’s hallways – Y/N crashed right into another person. Y/N, along with the boxes, crashed loudly and painfully against the cement floor.

"Shit," Y/N said out loud. The embarrassment from the predicament was too much for him, so he opted for keeping his eyes on the ground, seemingly becoming very interested in the flooring's designed patterns. He stayed in that position, wallowing in his shame until the other person he had forgotten about spoke up.

"Sorry about that, kid." A low and husky voice spoke above Y/N. Y/N moved his eyes from the floor to the other man in the hallway. He was met with piercing blue eyes and a head of light blonde hair. Great. Not only had he embarrassed himself in front of someone, but that certain someone had to be Captain America of all people. Flashing the best smile he could conjure, Y/N stood up from the floor in an attempt to save as much face as possible.

"No, no, it was all my fault Steve," Y/N chirped. Wow, he sounded like a complete wimp. Not only that, but he called Captain America by his actual legal government name. Y/N did not consider himself close enough to call Captain America Steve. The situation was further going off the rails as they both stood in an uncomfortable silence for what seemed like forever. Suddenly, Steve spoke again, breaking the suffocating air of awkwardness.

"Need help with those." Steve said, smiling slightly at Y/N. Thinking back on it now, it was definitely the smile that got Y/N hooked into Steve. With a curt nod, both of the men started cleaning the mess of files. "Do these need to be in a specific order?" Steve questioned. Quite frankly, Y/N did not care for the files' order; he was much more preoccupied with the strange feeling down in his stomach. He slapped himself internally before answering Steve.

"I'm not sure actually. The person reading these can decipher that themself." Steve chuckled at his words. An actual, genuine laugh. Y/N found whatever he said to not be as funny Steve was making it out to be. But nevertheless, good job Y/N! You made Captain America laugh at something you said! After tidying the files, the two of them started walking, Y/N in the lead with Steve following in his stead.

"Where to, Stark Jr.?"

"The storage room by the training grounds."

The walk to the files' designated area was filled with silence – not uncomfortable like before, but instead a somewhat pleasant quiet. Deciding to be bold, Y/N asked Steve a question.

"What do you do all day?" Wow, Y/N didn't intend on that sounding as rude as it did.

"What do you mean?" Steve responded.

"Like, what do you do when there isn't a mission where you have to save the world or anything." Great save, Y/N said to himself.

"Well, if there isn't a mission I usually train in the gym – nothing bad in doing some extra training. Other than that, I usually visit SHIELD's headquarters to do business that I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." He turned and smiled at Y/N after saying the last part. The strange feeling was there again.

"That honestly sounds like a miserable existence." Y/N said. Steve laughed and Y/N smiled, proud of himself for making Captain America laugh a second time this night. "Do you have any actual free time at all?"

"The only time we get to ourselves are weekends. I typically go for jogs in the morning then catch up on any work I didn't get to finish from the weekday. By the time I finish, it's already pretty late at night." As Steve continued to talk, Y/N couldn't help but sneak glances at him. Y/N had noticed a smile was etched on Steve's face and he wondered if it was because Steve enjoyed his company or if he was merely entertained by their topic of conversation. "If I have any time to spare, I like to draw. I've started taking painting classes recently."

Y/N debated on whether or not to make a joke about Steve's work and him not "finishing" fast enough, but thought it was too weird even for him. "Wow, even on your day off your life sounds bland – aside from the drawing part I guess." Steve had laughed once more at what Y/N said, and Y/N silently applauded himself once again.

Steve's smile persisted despite Y/N's slight insult to his daily life. "My turn to ask. What do you do all day? I never see you around that much."

"That's 'cause I'm usually cooped up in a lab somewhere doing tech stuff I'm sure you're not interested in hearing about." Steve chuckled again. "If I'm not doing techy stuff, then I'm usually doing boring paperwork for Stark industries. And if I'm not doing that, I'm sleeping peacefully in my bed."

"Now I'm offended by you calling my life bland when yours’ is equally as boring, Y/N," Steve joked.

"It'd be more exciting if you were in it." Oh Y/N, what exactly are you saying now? Suddenly, the signature Stark flirtiness accumulated within Y/N as the next words left his lips. "You should join me on my bed sometime." Oh sweet Jesus. Even Y/N himself shriveled from pure disgust at what he just said. It wasn't even a remotely good pickup line. He fully expected Steve to bolt away as soon as possible and leave him behind with the behemoth-sized boxes.

Before Steve could respond, the pair found themselves in front of the storage room. Steve opened the door for Y/N who could only mumble a quiet thanks in response as he was still shaken up from his earlier misspeaking. Finding a secluded table in the room, Y/N set down the boxes with Steve following in suit. The two then exited the room and found themselves in yet again another uncomfortable silence. Before Y/N could hurriedly escape, Steve spoke.

"You should get out of your lab more. I'd like to see more of you around if that's possible." Upon hearing that, the feeling from earlier was present again in Y/N's stomach except it had been exponentially stronger this time. "I enjoyed talking with you, Y/N."

It was as if Y/N had lost any inkling of social awareness as he said his next remark. "You'd practically have to pry me off a workbench with those big arms of yours, Steve."

Steve only laughed in response, clearly somewhat amused by Y/N's bold eccentricity. "I'll see you around, Y/N." Steve started walking away before suddenly turning around with a smirk on his mouth. "Oh, and I'll take you up on that earlier offer."

------------------------------------

Ironically enough, Y/N and Steve have yet to converse with each other again after their brief encounter. This was mainly due to Y/N avoiding Steve after having said his embarrassing comments – especially about Steve's arms, something Y/N can't help but gag at upon reflection. Looking back at their moment together, Y/N can only sigh and hope the super soldier forgot about his humiliating behaviour.

Looking around the museum, Y/N stared in awe at the inside's appearance. The building itself had replicated the architecture and grandeur of Ancient Greece, with large columns on the building's interior and exterior. While the building itself was an architectural beauty, what really stood out were the floral decorations garnered around the room, both on the tables surrounding the middle of the museum designated as a dance floor and hanging in between the interior pillars. Y/N had to remind himself to find his mother later, who arrived hours earlier to help decorate, and commend her keen taste in floral arrangements.

Y/N's moment taking in the interior decor was interrupted when he was approached by Tony and a stubby man wearing a suit. Tony introduced the man to Y/N who turned out to be one of Stark Industries' business partners. Nothing notable was said in their conversation aside from numbers and Y/N's vision for the future of Stark Industries. This was how the first half of the night went: Tony introduced Y/N to one of his business partners, boring conversations about logistics would ensue, Y/N was asked about his ideas on Stark Industries' future – rinse and repeat. After numerous runs of this seemingly perpetual cycle, Y/N's social battery had been absolutely drained and Operation Get-Drunk-And-Pass-Out was set in motion. Excusing himself from Tony's presence, Y/N ran a beeline towards the bar, his stride swift with determination to get his hands on anything alcoholic.

Taking a seat at the bar, Y/N began thinking about what he would drink. Suddenly forgetting every alcoholic beverage that ever existed, he waved down the bartender to get his first drink of the night. "I'd like whatever will get me the most piss-faced, please." The bartender simply gave him a cordial smile and nod before pouring a single clear liquid into a small shot glass. He then gave Y/N the glass who before drinking said, "bottoms up." The mystery liquid was absolutely repulsive and scorched Y/N's throat. His face puckered up in pain, eyes shut as tears formed at the brim of his ducts. "Jesus, dude, what is this!?"

"Everclear." The man answered with a very thick Russian accent. Y/N had no idea what that was nor was aware of its very high alcoholic percentage, almost being pure alcohol. What he did know was the vile taste and painful burn signified it was able to get him 100% wasted.

"I'll take 10 more of those, please."

------------------------------------

At shot four, Y/N's vision had started getting blurry, his lips and skin felt tingly, and he kept laughing at the most nonsensical things to laugh at. His drunkenness was made very apparent for everyone at the bar when he pointed towards someone's poorly trimmed goatee and laughed maniacally at it. While his actions had been in poor-taste and he was making a grand fool of himself, Y/N could care less as he revelled with his newly acquainted friend, Everclear.

Before downing shot number five, a man had approached and sat beside Y/N and began ordering. To his surprise, Captain America in the flesh had situated himself beside him at the bar. Knowing Y/N's already embarrassing encounter with him sober, only God knows what was about to ensue between the two of them while he was intoxicated.

“Enjoying the night, Mr. America?” Y/N slurred.

“Clearly not as much as you, Y/N.” Steve responded. He was currently sporting a classic black and white tux with a dark blue tie. His attire, while as basic and stereotypical as they come for a formal event, suited him perfectly. Being the idiot Y/N was while drunk, the spike of confidence that surged within him caused him to comment on Steve's appearance.

Y/N leaned towards Steve, getting very close in his personal space, then saying, “apologies, Captain, but you sure do look ravishing if I do say so myself. I’m proud to be an American.” Y/N giggled at himself while Steve looked at him with an amused expression.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you’re flirting with me, Y/N.” Steve said, flashing his captivating smile. Y/N stared at him with dazed eyes before leaning back and downing his fifth shot of liquid courage.

"Maybe I am flirting with you, Steve. That's what I was doing last time we talked in case you didn't realize."

"Yes, you were quite subtle the last time we spoke." He said sarcastically. He took a sip of whatever he ordered from the bar before continuing. "Speaking of, I've been meaning to talk to you ever since that night, but I could never get a hold of you."

Y/N laughed, not knowing if Steve actually knew why he hasn't seen him since or if he really was oblivious. "Well, Steve, I was avoiding you because I made a fool of myself the last time we talked." A hiccup came out of Y/N's throat. "And then I said to myself, 'Steve probably thinks I'm weird so I'll avoid him to prevent any further embarrassment'."

"Well, I really did enjoy our conversation last time, Y/N. I mean it."

Similar to their last encounter, a wave of deafening silence consumed the pair's conversation, the awkward tension causing Y/N to become slightly sober. Fortunately for him, the alcohol was still very much prevalent in his bloodstream, giving him enough confidence to break the awkward silence.

"Sometimes I wish I could just run away – leave this life behind and escape to some deserted island.” Y/N glanced towards Steve who was already looking at him. "It's too much at times – this life."

"It would be easier if you had someone with you for the journey."

Y/N looked at him, feigning an incredulous look. "Are you implying with your word choice, manner of speaking and overall cadence that you want to be that person for me?" Y/N laughed, scoffed was more like it. "I'd say you're the person flirting with me, Steve."

Steve chuckled softly, his eyes never leaving Y/N. "Maybe I am, Y/N."

Y/N could only stare at him as his heart skipped a beat. Perhaps it was the alcohol messing with his senses and disposition, but his usual wit was gone and he was speechless – a rare moment for Starks. Noticing his hesitation, Steve leaned in slightly, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"Y/N, you don't have to go through this life alone. I've seen through your father how hard it can be for someone in your position. But you don't have to bear it all by yourself."

"Do you really mean that, Steve? Or are you just saying all this because I'm drunk and pathetic." Y/N's voice wavered, the confidence he had during their last encounter was noticeably absent.

Steve reached out, placing a hand on Y/N's shoulder. "I've noticed you, Y/N. Even though we haven't talked much, I can already tell you're a special person. You're more than just Tony Stark's kid. There's something unique about you. And I want to get to know you more."

The butterflies Y/N felt during their last encounter returned and did pirouettes in his stomach. "I don't know what to say, Steve."

"You don't have to say anything right now. Just know I'll be here and I won't be leaving anytime soon."

Y/N looked at Steve, a whirlwind of emotions torpedoing inside of him. For the first time in a long time, he didn't feel so alone. The confidence suddenly returned and a smile braced itself on Y/N's face. "Are you technically asking me out?"

Steve only laughed in response before standing up and saying, "I can take you home now if you want."

Y/N quickly stood up. "Oh yes please, Steve. Another minute in here and I think I'll have an aneurysm." As the two started walking, a sudden wave of a burdening reminder of his father's presence washed over Y/N. "Wait, I can't leave – dad said I-."

Before Y/N could finish, Steve quickly interrupted him. "I think everyone here, including Tony, can see you're in no condition to be here any longer."

Y/N could only nod, too exhausted to protest. As they exited the building Y/N's head grew heavy, and it gently fell onto Steve’s shoulder. Steve tensed for a moment, then relaxed as his arm slowly wrapped around Y/N’s waist, pulling him closer. “Take me home, Steve,” Y/N mumbled softly against his shoulder, his breath warm against Steve’s neck.

"That's what I'm doing right now, Y/N." Steve said softly.

------------------------------------

After exiting the building, Steve hailed one of the idle limousines across the museum. He had to carefully slide in Y/N's body before sliding in beside him.

The ride back to the Avenger's Compound was quiet and tranquil, a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the earlier evening. Steve glanced at his watch - it said 3:33 AM - then turned his gaze towards Y/N's sleeping body leaning against the car window. A small dribble of saliva was escaping the corners of his mouth, and Steve quietly chuckled.

"I can feel you looking at me. Cut it out."

"Unfortunately, I can't seem to stop my eyes from lingering on things I find beautiful." Y/N could only blush at Steve's unexpectedly sappy words, unaware the super soldier had it in him to be a corny romantic.

"You're no better than any other man, Steve Rogers," Y/N teased, though his voice was softer than before. Steve smiled, but was interrupted by a loud yawn erupting from his mouth. Abruptly, Y/N sat up straight from his slouched position, suddenly remembering something in his drunken haze. "You know, you still have yet to cash in on my offer, Steve."

"You mean your offer to be in bed with you?" Steve asked, his tone in between amusement and curiosity.

Y/N eagerly nodded. "I wouldn't mind if that happened tonight."

Steve's head turned at a concerning speed that definitely would've given a normal person severe whiplash. He gave Y/N a stern yet somber look, one that carried warmth with a reprimanding undertone behind it. "I'm not going to sleep with you, Y/N. I mean, you're drunk and that would be me taking advantage of you – I'd like to think you expect better from me."

Y/N blinked, looking both very offended and embarrassed. "That is absolutely not what I meant, Steve, you naughty man!" He crossed his arms and sunk into the limo's soft leather seats. "I meant that it would be nice if we just laid and went to sleep together...I just don't want to be alone tonight."

Steve's expression softened immediately, understanding the vulnerability behind Y/N's words. Their eyes met, a silent agreement shared between them, filling the rest of the ride with warmth from their comforting connection.

As the car grew quiet again, Y/N, emboldened by the last remnants of alcohol in his system, threw one more cheeky remark towards Steve. "But you would have sex with me, right?"

Steve laughed, his head shaking, but the tenderness in his smile spoke volumes. "Get some rest, Y/N. We'll talk in the morning."

------------------------------------

Y/N stirred awake in his bed, his eyes wincing as the harsh rays pierced through a gap between his bedroom curtains. His head pounded, and a wave of nausea met him immediately. Unable to fight it, Y/N ran to his bathroom, purging the contents of last night's festivities in his toilet. It was quite a horrid sight.

After what seemed like hours, Y/N exited from his bathroom, wanting to get more sleep. Stumbling back to his bed, he noticed the large body-shaped mound from underneath his blankets. Frightened, he approached it cautiously, scared of the idea of having drunkenly slept with a stranger.

Slowly uncovering the body, Y/N was met with the peaceful sight of a sleeping Captain America. Steve's chest rose and fell steadily, lips parted as he took even breaths. Then, the events of the previous night came rushing back to him like a semi-good dream and Y/N mentally facepalmed himself. However, while he internally scolded himself for his embarrassing behaviour, he also congratulated himself for having been somewhat successful in his endeavours of pursuing Steve.

Laying back down gingerly beside Steve, Y/N grabbed his phone from the nightstand. The time was 11:11 AM and Y/N silently made a wish to himself. He noticed he had received 10 missed calls and nearly 50+ messages from his dad. Thinking it was regarding his early leave from the gala, Y/N decided to deal with his father later, still exhausted from the night before. Opening Twitter (he refused to call it 'X'), Y/N's eyebrows furrowed as he saw his name trending alongside 'Steve Rogers' and 'Captain America.' A knot formed in his stomach and he decided to Google his name. The urge to puke suddenly returned as he was met with a news article reading:

‘Hottest New Couple in NYC?! – Captain America & Y/N Stark Seen Seen Getting Cozy During Annual Stark Gala’

Below the headline was a picture snapped of Steve and Y/N at the bar, Steve leaning closely towards Y/N as both shared very flirtatious smiles towards each other. Y/N groaned loudly, causing Steve to stir awake. Today was going to be PR hell.

FIN

A/N: This actually took multiple days to write and while rereading it it's actually really corny? But, fanfic writing is actually kind of fun, I might do it more. Anyways, hope you enjoyed :) Also sorry for any mistakes I'm too lazy to revise

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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months ago

Note

If you're still taking reqs for TADC, could you possibly write something for on Jax with another member of the circus who is seemingly the only one that feeds into his actions and reacts- leading the two to go back and forth all the time. While everyone (even themselves) believe the pair hate each other, deep down there's some shared feelings!

(Sorry if this is worded weirdly..)

You and Jax were at each other’s throats once again much to the dismay of Pomni and Ragatha, who watched on from afar.

‘Jax!’ You exclaimed, gaining the purple bunny’s attention as he looked at you with his usual shit eating grin with his hands shoved into his overalls.

‘Why isn’t it y/n! Here to accuse me of doing something outrageous again because your undying hatred for me consumes your mind body and soul?’ Jax replied sarcastically, which only proven to make you even more pissed off as you grabbed him by the straps of his overalls, brining him in close.

‘Oh you think you’re hilarious don’t you bunny boy?’ You said through gritted teeth, trying not to focus on the fact that you were mere inches away from each other, mere inches away from touching heads but you were quick to focus back on why you were even confronting him to begin with. ‘I know damn well you put those rats in my room, do you not have anything better to do then annoy me for your entertainment.’ You added.

‘Have they always hated each other?’ Pomni asked Ragatha who was having a hard time recalling herself. You and Jax had always been like this for as far as she remembered, the reason why you both were like this was a mystery to all even Caine, but everyone had soon accepted that you and Jax just didn’t like each other in general. Jax liked to fuck with everyone and you happened to react the most to them, causing him to focus all of his pranks onto you.

‘They entered here at the same time and even then they didn’t like each other at all.’ Ragatha started. ‘Y/n hated how Jax massed with everyone and Jax found y/n’s need to confront him every time he did so both annoying but amusing at the same time. Soon enough all they could focus on was each other, getting on one another’s nerves, almost as though the rest of us don’t exist in their little feud as all they could see was each other.’ Ragatha finished and Pomni looked back at you and Jax, seeing that you were still very much at each other’s throats.

The way you both seemed to unintentionally lean towards each other despite hating the other’s very being, it came across as intimate but Pomni believed that she was looking too deep into things.

‘So do they hate each other, like Properly hate each other? If so why are they always within the others space?’ She asked, a million more questions coming to her head.

All Ragatha could do was shrug her shoulders. ‘I’ve had similar questions before but I’ve just chalked it up to y/n being red with rage that they don’t see how they feed into Jax’s ego, and Jax is far too aware of how he is affecting y/n to the point where he can’t stop himself from messing with them.’ The pair then went back to watching you and Jax as he griped his hands over your own on his overalls, forcing you to stay in close proximity of him.

‘You’re just so reactive to everything I do, even the smallest things tick you off, are you sure you’re not like secretly in love with me or something?’ He teased as he watched your eyes widened before narrowing into a glare again.

‘As if I’d like a chaos causing mischief maker like you in the first place? It’s you who might have feelings for me, especially given how often you keep pranking me and invading my personal space as though it’s nonexistent.’ You spat back as you watched Jax’s smile falter for a split seconds before it came back full force as he scoffs, pulling your hands off of him with ease.

‘Like you said as if I’d ever like a over emotional person like you, who can’t seem to take a joke and overreact to everything I do because everything I do is morally wrong and unjust in their eyes.’ Jax spat back, not wanting your words to get to him as he naturally deflected all of his flaws to focus on yours in retaliation.

‘Can’t take a joke?’ You asked rhetorically, sure your feelings were slightly hurt but you were able to not let it show in fear that Jax would use it to advantage. ‘Can’t take a- what you call a joke is anything but a joke! You just want to make everyone as miserable and as hopeless as you.’ You finished, practically seething as you saw how unaffected Jax was by your words.

‘Nope, wrong as usual. I just want you to be as miserable and hopeless as me sweetheart.’ Jax said almost too casually as he shrugged his shoulders before leaving you stood there in utter bafflement. ‘See you later for the adventure, hope you’ll keep your emotions in check this time.’ He adds with a lazy wave as he disappears from sight.

You knew your relationship with Jax was…complicated to say the least, always hating each other, and getting in the others face for no reason other then to voice your hate for one another in voices barely above a whisper. You didn’t remember when you hated him but soon you felt it shift somewhat the longer you were stuck here with him. You noticed your change of emotions towards his and grew annoyed, which only made your supposed hate for Jax grow to hide the fact that you had grown feelings for the lavender rabbit.

Yet you knew he didn’t feel the same, he hated you beyond words can describe and so instead of forcing an fantasy to become reality, you had forced yourself to accept the reality that you and Jax were meant to be enemies no matter what.

However you weren’t the only one with conflicted thoughts and feelings about this because Jax was in a similar situation. He was supposed to hate you, much like he did the moment you locked eyes but he feared something else blossomed from that first glance, something he didn’t want to admit anytime soon; and so he decided to torment you in order to find things to hate about you to stop thinking about anything else.

Jax wasn’t stupid he knew he liked you but for all he was aware you hated him beyond belief, beyond words even and so he focused on things that he had tricked himself into hating about you and letting himself continue to be your enemy as long as he got your attention, you soul focus on him and only him like he wanted.

You and him were made to be enemies but born to be more but both of you didn’t know how to admit it, not when you thought the other one despaired the other with how hostile you acted towards one another, and yet you craved the others attention in the same breath. You craved and despised each other simultaneously that you had found yourself in a never ending battle of whether you and Jax would ever break from this hatred and actually grow to like each other, but you and Jax both knew that was too much to ask, not knowing that you both indeed did like each other but were just that good at hiding it with mutual hate.

#tadc x reader #tadc x you #tadc #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x y/n #jax x you #jax x reader #jax imagines #jax imagine

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tatorthots · 2 years ago

Text

— get you

featured: college!Eren x afab!reader x college!Levi, Mikasa Ackerman, Sasha Braus, Louise (canon Yeagerist)

cw: modern!au, slight fluff if you really squint, suggestive content, minors dni, toxic dynamics, possessiveness, cursing

synopsis: the life of a college student is already hard enough as it is with classes, homework, and lectures so why not add a complicated love triangle as well?

a/n: this is a repost !! I’ve written this before but decided to go back and re-edit it :) to everyone who’s read this before I hope you all enjoy this improved version!

Eren fucking Yeager.

The college campus’ fuckboy and the literal bane of your existence.

Eren has been the thorn in your side since you were both assigned dorm mates at the beginning of your junior year of college. Sure, you’ve heard of the infamous name he set out for himself as the ruthless ‘Attack Titan’ in your school's football team, and you were fully aware of his cold and narcissistic personality but hey, who were you to judge a book by its reviews, right? So you made the mistake of ever being kind to him when you first introduced yourself only to be met by desolate green eyes and a scoff. Not to mention he had the audacity to give you ‘house rules’ which basically summarized to cleaning the dorm and staying out of his way. No, Eren almost never spared you small talk or even pretended to tolerate your mere existence. Why? Who fucking knows. Honestly, you firmly believed the brunette was born with a vendetta against you — every day striving and scheming to better his tactics in making your life miserable like some ripoff supervillain. But worst of all is the fact he seemed to make a habit of following you around campus like some lost puppy. You’d think someone who supposedly hates you would do anything to keep themselves away, right? Wrong. He thrived off bickering, insulting, and annoying you at any chance he got. Weirdly enough, no matter how many times you prayed someone would approach you to give you reason to ditch him, everyone always seemed to particularly steer clear from you when he was with you. Almost as if they were too afraid to even look your way, let alone talk to you. But I guess that could all be chalked up to Erens possessive behavior; his sinister stare and malicious intent were ever present anytime anyone dared get close to you. Not that you would know though, no, you were far too busy rolling your eyes and thinking of witty comebacks or insults. Unknowingly, making it easier to keep you all to himself.

Silly girl.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The echo of a blunt object clamoring to the floor abruptly stirred you from your peaceful slumber as the sound of it rolling on the hardwood floor rattled through the cramped dorm. Sitting up from your resting position you outwardly groaned as you rubbed the sleep off your eyes, “What the hell?” you sighed. Snatching your phone from its charging port you checked the time, squinting your eyes at the sudden brightness, “5:06 a.m?” Huffing in annoyance your jaw clenched as you glared at the door, already starting bright and early this morning huh you asshole, throwing your legs off the bed you groggily made your way out your bedroom door. Fuming at the fact you were forced to wake up so early after pulling an all-nighter studying last night; which, by the way, was already hard to do with Eren and his friends cluttering around the living room all night.

“What do you think you’re doi—“ your voice came to a complete halt when your eyes landed on an opened package and your recently delivered figurine displaced out of its box and lying on the floor. And to add insult to injury there stood Erens number one psycho of a fan, Louise. Giggling to herself as she kicked what would’ve been your most prized possession away from her. “What.. what are you doing…?” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your eyes remained focused on your figurine. The same figurine you excitedly pre-ordered a year ago. You couldn’t even afford to eat for a month afterward because of how much you spent on it and now there it was being kicked around by some desperate pest? So balling your hands into fists you marched over and shoved Louise aside to see the damage she had caused. But your anger only ignited when you saw your favorite character's weapon broken in half and their stand shattered to pieces. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You seethed as you bent down to sorrowfully try to connect the shattered pieces together. You were tired. So tired of this. Carefully tightening your hold on the broken pieces; you hated how you felt like you could cry from frustration. “Oops~” was all Louise bothered herself to say in response to her crime. Quietly, almost too calmly, you spoke, “… What did you just say?” “I said ‘oops’,” she cheekily replied, “besides, it’s not my fault you leave around boxes for anyone to touch.” Resting her hand on her hip she smirked down at you, “If you really cared so much about your little dolls then you shouldn’t have been so irresponsible~ heh, hope you learned your lesson.”

Standing up from your crouched position, you side-eyed Louise with a piercing, almost eerily, hyper-focused glare. This is it, you thought before clenching your fists and raising your arm, intent on actually beating her until your knuckles ached. But before you could swing, you felt a cautious grip on your wrist and a firm hold on your hip. Everything moved so fast, you didn’t even get to acknowledge the fingertips that slid up to the hem of your latex shorts before you found yourself spun and placed behind Eren. Staring up at him you blinked a few times. “Don’t get so heated.” He spat, with a disinterest in his tone almost mocking your apprehensive reaction, “She’s my guest.” He cocked his head at you with a sarcastic smile, and god did your eye twitch. It made your stomach churn and skin crawl knowing what he meant by that, and it… hurt. Shaking your thoughts, you swat his hands off of you, and scowled at the man towering over you, daring to defend the rat responsible for all of this. Dryly you scoffed, “She’s just another fuck-buddy you bring in here ren.” Crossing your arms together you continued your jeering, “You make a mess wherever you go and you even have the audacity to drag in trash? Tch. Please.” But, oh how naive you are to not notice. The glint of amusement reflecting off Erens emerald eyes just from the venom in your tone; it makes his dick twitch. He shifts a little uncomfortably trying to ease himself before exasperatedly sighing. “Well dove,” he begins as he starts to circle around you, “maybe if you weren’t such a self-righteous prude I wouldn’t have to bring girls in here…” stopping right in front of you he leaned down to reach eye-level, his taunting gaze only inches away from you as he lowly growled out, “I could just fuck you instead.”

Truth be told, Eren knew he was full of it — straight up lying through his teeth every time he told you he didn’t want you. In reality, the man was absolutely obsessed with you and anyone with eyes could see it, everyone except you. But unfortunately, Eren isn’t the type to admit his feelings so freely, let alone submit to his emotions. No, he was too prideful for that. Don’t be too harsh on him though, I mean, the idiot hasn’t even figured out himself what it is he feels for you. It could be part of the reason why he’s so particularly hostile with you, and why he’s equally possessive. Not to mention that Eren has been the object of many’s affection since he could remember; as in he’s never not had what he did or didn’t want. He learned early on that personality and sincerity isn’t anything more than currency in this world, and he abides by that principle. So to have someone like you, who’s breathtakingly mesmerizing, compassionate, intelligent, interesting, funny, and well, you, is completely left field for this playboy. You’re everything he thought wasn’t possible. You contradict his entire worldview of people. How could he not resent you — or fall for you all the same? He hates it.

However, as of now, all you know is that you’re fed up with this situation. Pushing past them to grab your keys and hoodie, you turned around and stormed through the front door. Did you know where you were going? Not a clue. But you sure as hell aren’t going to be anywhere near here. Anywhere near him. Walking out the door you heard Louise’s cackling laugh practically grating your ears and it only made your blood simmer further as you slammed the door behind you.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“I’ve told you to speak to the Dean and ask for another dorm mate,” sighing as she stirred her coffee with a spoon, her dark eyes flickered up at you, “I’m sure if you explain your situation to him he’ll be more likely to accept your proposal.” Anxiously combing your hair back, you groaned at your best friend's advice, “Mikasa don’t you think I’ve already tried that?” Dramatically throwing your arms on the diner's table, you buried your face in your arms, “The Dean only has a strict appointment-based schedule,” with a pout you lift your head up slightly, “and the waiting list spans for the next four months!” Tucking your head back to sulk, Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, but that’s when your other friend spoke up. “Then why don’t you try talking to his assistant?” Snapping your head up, you stare questioningly at Sasha as she shoved another beignet in her mouth, “Yeah but —mmph — what’s his name again?” “Levi.” Mikasa chimed in, “Levi Ackerman.” Levi Ackerman..?, you thought, Why does that name sound so familiar? But you didn’t get long to think about it before Sasha excitedly shouted out, “Yes—! Levi!” Putting her fork down she rubbed her chin in contemplation, “Huh, I heard he’s kind of a total jerk though, and everyone who’s ever met up with him spirals into some sort of existential crisis…” Mikasa kicked Sasha from under the table as she nodded in your direction, “O-oh! But um.. I mean how bad could he be, right?” Trying to nervously wave off what she said, Sasha patted you on the head, “You’ll be fine, y/n!”

I’ll be fine? Groaning again, you leaned your cheek on your hand as you looked at the people chatting or studying at their tables. “Well, I guess I don’t have much of a choice..” which to an extent is true. You either continue to put up with Eren until you eventually get an appointment with the Dean, or you talk to Levi Ackerman and hope you don’t spiral. That name though…, you pondered, Why do I know it? Smearing around the egg yolk on your avocado toast you glanced up at your friends. “Hey, why does that Levi name sound so familiar? Do we know him or something?” “Yes and no.” Sasha answered, “You’ve heard his name before because he’s that super mysterious senior everyone’s afraid of.” “He’s been the leader of the Honors Society since he was a sophomore, and he’s top-ranking academically in the country.” Mikasa added. Thinking to yourself you finally remembered, “Oh! That’s right!” You triumphantly chirped until it dawned on you what you remembered. Noticing the dread in your eyes Sasha laughed, “Mhm, you definitely look like you remember now~” “He’s that academic thug…” sinking into your chair you genuinely began to wonder who you crossed in your past life to deserve this, I probably helped commit genocide or something…, “Yeah, he’s gotten into a few fights but it’s always settled within reason.” “Pft, c’mon Mikasa, the schools probably too scared to punish its most valuable student.” Sasha snorted. “Hm. You might have a point, but it’s usually ruffians who feel they have something to prove that challenge him,” Mikasa pointed out, “He also hangs around his small clique. I think, our seniors like Petra, Eld, Gunther, Olou, and Hange.” “See y/n! How bad could he be if he hangs out with them?” Sighing, you smiled at your two closest friends and their attempt at making you feel better. “Yeah, you guys are right,” finishing your latte, you beamed down at them, “I’m gonna kick today's ass!”

After the three of you waved your goodbyes, you set off to go find the very man you only hear of through quiet whispers. Honestly, with all the mystery shrouding him you really started to believe he was some sort of urban legend the school came up with. Kind of like ‘if you don’t do your homework, Levi Ackerman will show up in your closet’ type of thing, you know? With an exasperated sigh, you look down at your clothes. Great. I’m about to meet the guy who’s also known for his ocd in a jujutsu keisen hoodie, spandex shorts, and crocs.. Sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck, you stared up at the birds flying above you, I wish I could live freely like them… Longingly looking up, you snap out of your thoughts as you approached the administrative office. Well, I promised Sasha and Mikasa I’d do this so.. here I go. Stepping into the front office you began your unexpected hour-and-a-half-long journey being sent practically all across campus in search of this Levi guy. You went from office to office, met up with more people than you’ve probably spoken to in the last two weeks, and wasted time waiting around for people who ended up either not knowing where he is or sending you back across campus. Until finally you made it to the science research facility building where you tiredly dragged yourself toward the receptionist’s desk. “Please..” you heaved, “Please tell me… *gasp of air* tell me Levi Ackerman is in this building!” Your eyes pleaded at the poor, spooked old lady as she stared at you. “Oh honey, please have a seat!” She scurried next to you and guided you to sit down, “He’s tucked away in the computer lab right now, let me go notify him!” Grabbing her arm, you peered into her eyes, “He’s here?” “Y-yes!” Nervously laughing, she placed her hand on top of yours, “You know what? How about you come with me. He’ll most likely decline your visit if I notify him.” And with that, you made your final trudge with the old lady you managed to scare into personally leading you to Levi.

“Alrighty sweetheart, this is him.” Pointing toward a large door, the receptionist politely smiled at you before hurrying back to her desk and leaving you all alone. Glancing at the wooden door, you suddenly felt an overwhelming sense of anxiety. Okay… I um.. I made it this far, right? You tried to reassure yourself but the longer you stared at the door, the more your imagination ran rampant. What if he’s big and terrifying looking? You imagined a tall, ogre-looking man, Or what if he’s a total creep? Then some balding guy who resembled a mole. If ren were here I wouldn’t feel so intimid—huh? Ren? Shuddering at your thoughts, you took a deep inhale, Alright, clearly the longer I stand here the more I’m beginning to lose it, so with a little pep-talk you figured you might as well rip the bandaid. Twisting the handle, you carefully pushed open the door and peeked inside. The entire room was almost the size of an entire lecture hall but filled with neat rows of computers. Wow… you thought as you opened the door further to step inside. Looking around the room in amazement, you immediately stopped in your tracks when you noticed a figure sitting at the front of the room reading a textbook with notebooks and papers stacked on the table. That must be him. Clearing your throat you decided to call out to him, “Excuse me, I’m looking for Levi Ackerman,” slowly walking up to him you tried to fill in the silence, “I’m assuming that’s you, right?” Closing in on the table he sat at, you managed to make out a head of black hair and.. and him drinking tea? Quirking a brow at the full tea set he had displayed, you spoke up again, “My names y/n. I wanted to talk to you about an issue I have and I was told you cou—“ “Get lost.” H-huh..? Did I mishear him? “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I—“ “If you don’t intend to offend me then go bother somebody else. I’m busy.” His voice was deep and monotone, clearly uninterested in what you had to say by the way he didn’t even bother to acknowledge your presence.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you knitted your brows in irritation. Of course. Gritting your teeth, you strode right up to him and slammed your hand down on the desk, “You’re a tough guy to find, you know that?” You chuckled dryly, “Did you also know I spent the last two hours running around campus trying to find you? So no, I’m not leaving until you at least listen to what I have to say.” Setting his tea down, the raven-haired man finally turned to look at you, “Is that so?” He questioned, though it was clear the question was more rhetorical than genuine. With a long sigh, he swiveled his chair to completely face you; and then that’s when you flinched in surprise as you scanned him. He’s hot… you thought, Oh god, he’s hot..!? The man in question had inky black hair styled in an undercut, a complimentary choice when paired with his delicate yet sharp features. This definitely wasn’t what you expected. Even the dark circles under his eyes look good… A light blush began to creep up on your cheeks as you realized the commotion you just made in front of someone like him. All the while you stared in a flustered daze, Levi was languidly trailing his eyes across your body. Resting his head on his hand, he couldn’t deny he liked the sudden surprise presented to him. Huh.. he mused. “Well? What’s so damn important?” Straightening up at the sound of his voice, you smoothed out the wrinkles on your hoodie, “Oh! Yes, of course.. I’d like to propose a change of dorm mates.” Staring at him, the intensity in his eyes only worked to captivate you to him, “My… my roommate isn’t working out, and no matter what I try to do to civilize the situation it just doesn’t work out..” you ended, almost disappointingly. Levi hummed as he listened before standing up from his chair. “Is that what’s got you so worked up?” But something about his tone made you think he might’ve been referring to something else. “Why not go to the Dean?” He inquired as he slowly approached you, and you subconsciously took a few steps back until the back of your thighs hit a table behind you and you almost fell sitting on it. “The Dean has appointments booked all through the semester and since the matter is urgent I figured I’d reach out to his personal assistant.” The fact you managed to jumble that out without stuttering was a blessing in itself. “I see.” Narrowing his eyes on you he continued, “Then I guess I have no choice but to agree if it’s so urgent.” Blinking a few times you took a moment to process his words, Is he agreeing to help me? “Meet me later this evening to discuss the details,” his expression remained unchanged but you caught glimpse of the glimmer in his silver eyes as he stared at you, “I assume 7 works for you?” “7..?” You muttered, “Ah, yes, of course!” “Great. I’ll escort you then. Now if you’ll excuse me,” he closed in on your body and reached an arm past your waist, his lips inches away from your ear as he leaned in, “I have other matters to attend to.” Your body stiffened and your breath hitched until he pulled back with a notebook in his hand. He was.. just reaching for his notebook..? Nodding your head in agreement you politely excused yourself and raced out of the room with a bright blush searing your skin as he watched slightly amused at your disappearing figure.

After exiting the computer lab, you stood there for a few seconds in a flustered haze. What the hell just happened? Brushing your fingertips across your cheek you tried to ease away the warmth on them. Heh, I’ve gotta tell Sasha and Mikasa about this! You giddily thought as you whipped out your phone and started typing in the group chat. And after a morning of lectures and labs without your backpack, you finally made it back to your dorm. Heaving a sigh, you slung yourself on the couch and peeked your eye to where your broken figurine last lay. It’s gone… You figured Eren must’ve thrown it away along with the rest of the trash before leaving for his afternoon classes. Grabbing a pillow you covered your face and screamed into the fabric before sitting up and punching it a few times in frustration. “Fuck—!” You loudly groaned out. Why does he have to be that way? Scrunching your face, you massaged the bridge of your nose to calm down, He’s a dick to everyone, sure, but why does he target me so much? Even after… Throwing the pillow to the other side of the couch you hastily stood up and checked the time. Whatever, you bitterly thought, it’ll all be over soon enough. So you brushed off the thought and jumped in the shower to get ready for tonight’s occasion.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Rushing around your room, you turned your phone on to see 6:43 p.m. glaring at you. No, no, nononono—! Hissing in annoyance at your time management, you hurriedly slipped on a long, slit, silk skirt over your sheer tights. “Okay, alright, almooost done!” Grunting as you put on a pair of platform boots, you stood up and admired yourself in the mirror. “Heh,” you chuckled, “Elegant and fashionable with a touch of promiscuous.” After pulling a quick jojo pose in the mirror, you adjusted your open back top and strut through your bedroom door with an excited smile. But your smile immediately turned into a grimace when you caught sight of Eren and Louise lounging on the couch. Fucking bitch.. you internally sneered as you scrunched your nose in distaste. “Self-respect… and that goes for the both of them.” You mumbled under your breath. Forget it. Rummaging around the kitchen, you tried looking for your hand purse until an agitated voice called out to you.

“Shocked you’re not tryna run around empty-handed again since you had no problem with it this morning,” you could already see his irked frown, “and yeah I heard you’ve been taking a tour through campus by the way.” Roiling your eyes, you heard him shift as you clipped on your earrings, “I looked for you in the library to bring you your bag since apparently, you need everything done for y—“ widening his eyes, Erens jaw slacked as he eyed you. “…. fuck” he lowly muttered. He knew you were fine, he gets mesmerized by your beauty every day, but damn. Your leg peeking out of the silk fabric slit, and the way it’s tight fit complimented the curve of your ass was just too much for him. His mildew gaze trailed up to your open back top and he almost groaned at the slightest tease of side-boob. And just as he almost folded, he snapped out of it when he realized you were going out dressed like that. “Wait, where the fuck are you going?”

But Eren knew that wasn’t what he was really asking. No, what you wore never bothered him, in fact, he loved when you got all dolled up; let others look because he can fight — and he has, for you. What Eren was really asking was ‘Where the fuck are you going without me?’ ‘Who are you meeting?’ ‘Do you like them?’ ‘Would you forget me?’ Those were the real questions bouncing around in his head.

“Doesn’t matter.” Was all you replied, but the grip those two words had on him were like a vice. Leaning down to adjust your ankle bracelet, his eyes darted to the way your back subtly arched. He could already feel the tent growing in his pants, but he couldn’t be bothered to do something to hide it when all he could think about was how pretty you’d look stuffed full of him. He was desperate to touch you, feel you, claim you — just as desperate as he was to be owned by you, in every way, any way you’d allow him to be yours. Maybe you were just too dense for your own good. He tried his damndest to keep his composure as best as he could but his voice gave it away, “It’s a fucking date.” He snarled, low and threateningly. You glanced over at him, confused and infuriated at his audacity to interrogate you about where you were going or who you were meeting. “Doesn’t. Matter.” Both of you locked eyes as an intensity conflicted within his irises and a rage burned within yours. Scoffing, you turned on your heels, grabbed your purse, and walked toward the front door. Eren wanted to stand up and stop you, he wanted to do something anything but the pulsing ache in his pants kept him rooted to the couch. “Tell me who it is.” He demanded, and you finally reached your breaking point. Clenching your fists you turned your head and glared at Eren, “Hah. You’re really something, huh?” You condescendingly seethed, “You always bring in random girls in here almost every night and you have the fucking audacity to question me?” Reaching for the handle, you pushed open the door, “Don’t forget your place, Eren.” And his eyes widened at the use of his name, “And I won’t forget mine.” Slamming the door behind you, he felt his heart ache at the way your voice wavered when you said those last words. He wanted to argue, tell you that you’re wrong, that he’d do anything for you but he couldn’t. All he could do was stare at the door and lose himself in his thoughts.

Through the halls, you bitterly made your way outside the dormitory. Who the hell does he think he is? Roughly opening doors, you fumed, Acting like he owns me. Hah! If I didn’t know better I’d even think he cares about me. Bursting open the front doors of the dorm entrance you marched outside and hastily walked out of the dormitory district, What does he want from me? Seriously, I don’t understand him at all! You clutched your purse as you trembled with anger, He’s so confusing, ugh! He does things for me that make me feel special but then he… but then he acts like that! Like.. like Eren and I d— bumping into somebody, you stumbled back. Huh? Looking up you were surprised to see,

“Levi?”

“The hells wrong with you?” Steadying you with a hand around your arm, you didn’t realize he had grabbed you to keep you from falling, “Do you normally walk around like you’re ready to slice someone’s head off?” He asked, and you looked away in embarrassment, “.. sorry.” “Clearly whoever you’re so damn angry with should be the one apologizing,” letting go of your arm he sardonically added, “or it’s their funeral.” Covering your mouth, you laughed at his words, and his attention focused on the sound. Pretty.. he thought. Easing from your laughter, you looked up at him with a cheery smile, “Thank you for going out of your way to wait for me, I’m sorry I’m a little late.” “Yeah.. don’t-um..,” clearing his throat, Levi averted his gaze from yours, “Don’t worry about it.” Blinking at him, you stood admiring the way the luminescent streetlights illuminated his clear skin, “We should get going.” Interrupting your daze, you tilted your head in curiosity, Hm? Oh, that’s right, “Where are we going?” Checking his watch, his sharp eyes flickered up at you, “There’s a cafe I frequent often,” walking next to you, he placed his hand on the small of your back to guide you next to him and away from the street, “It’s a little hidden but they have a good atmosphere.” His gaze drifted to you and carefully took in the sight of you, “I hope it’s to your taste.” Glancing at him your eyes sparked with excitement, “A hidden cafe? I love checking out new coffee shops to study in! I’m looking forward to potentially adding another shop to my list!” Levi watched as you buzzed with enthusiasm. He was a little apprehensive about inviting you out to a small cafe, not knowing if it’d be something you’d enjoy, so to see you react so excitedly he sighed in relief. Seems this little venture might actually be worth its while. Unbeknownst to you, Levi did do a little background check on you through his student access — perk of being the Deans assistant — and he was pleasantly surprised to see all the achievements and participation activities you had under your belt. Most students don’t bother to do more than get through classes and do solely what’s asked of them as students. So his interest most definitely peaked when he quickly scanned through your transcript. Charming, fierce, intelligent, and beautiful. Lucky me.. he mused.

Like this fic? Consider reblogging, interacting, and commenting! It’s always appreciated!! ᰔᩚ

#jay writes ! ⋆⁺₊⋆ ♡̷̷̷ ⋆⁺₊⋆#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot angst #aot fluff #aot smut #aot imagines #attack on Titan x reader

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starshideurfics · 3 months ago

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Thirsty Thursday - Paris, 1889

steddie, omegaverse, starving artist eddie, moulin rouge dancer steve

Eddie Munson knows he’s lucky. Some days he feels like the luckiest man alive. He lives in Paris, he’s doing what he loves, and most days he has enough money to eat three meals.

And yes, most of that money is charity from his beloved uncle, and NOT from selling his artwork.

In the year he’s been in his tiny garret, committing to La Vie Boheme, Eddie has sold one painting. He picks up odd jobs, sells sketches on the street, but paints are expensive.

So is coal.

Winter is fast approaching, and to save on fuel costs, Eddie stays out of his flat as mich as possible, soliciting gallery owners and doing his best to get something in front of the eyes of the Paris elite. Then, in the evening, he goes to the Moulin Rouge.

It starts out with him trying to stay warm as long as possible, as late into the night. And to get cheap drinks.

The Can-Can dancers are just a fun bonus, fun to watch from the back, but little more.

At least until a new omega starts, wide-eyed and covered in beauty marks.

Now he’s *very interested* in the dancers, and even more annoyed with the fact that they’re dancing. He just wants to stare at the lovely omega, to capture his beauty in charcoal and chalk and oils. Eddie pulls out a little sketchbook, doing his best to get his features down.

He’s so absorbed that Eddie nearly forgets that the purpose of the dance is to titillate, the movements quick, the kicks showing off the splits in the dancers’ drawers, the shadow of pubic hair, and a hint of dusky pink.

Eddie wants to draw that too…

He goes back every night, trying to get a bit closer to *his* omega. Night after night he moves closer to the stage, finally close enough to smell. Most of it is heady perfume, he’s fairly certain the majority of the dancers are betas, but there’s a fresh note, sweet and green.

Staring dumbly up at his pretty dancer, Eddie prays for him to look his way. Three nights pass before their eyes meet, the omega flashing him a soft smile.

That night he builds up enough courage to wait at the dressing room door, to show his sketch to the security guard.

To get a name: Stéfan.

The guard agrees to ask Stéfan to come to the door after Eddie slips him a handful of francs. He’ll gladly give up breakfast tomorrow if he can speak to his new muse.

“Bonsoir,” a low, sweet voice says, startling Eddie from his reverie.

He’s wearing a long coat, buttoned up to his neck, hat on his head, but just as enthrallingly beautiful to Eddie. So enthralling that Eddie says as much, murmuring, “Good evening, Angel.”

“No need for that, Stef is fine.” The omega smiles. “You’re an artist, yes?”

“Yes, how did you know?”

Stef reaches for Eddie’s hands, turning them to show off the black smudges of charcoal on his fingers. “And I’ve seen you drawing in the audience.” He drags a finger up the center of Eddie’s palm. “What are you always drawing?”

“You,” Eddie blurts.

“Me? Why?” Stef asks with a laugh.

“I’m surprised every alpha you meet isn’t driven to catalogue your beauty.”

“Flatterer.”

“It is the truth! I’ve never seen a lovelier omega on this earth.”

“I doubt you’ve seen much outside of Paris.”

“It is still true,” Eddie pouts.

Stéfan is still holding Eddie’s hand, both of them blushing. “Are you hungry? There’s a café I like down the way, we could eat a late supper and maybe… You could show me some of your drawings?” He leans closer, sniffing not so discreetly at Eddie’s neck. “And tell me your name?”

“Édouard! My name is Édouard, um…Eddie, call me Eddie. And I would love to get supper with you.”

🎨🍾💗

Stef goes home with Eddie that night, showing him just how covered in beauty marks his body is, moaning as Eddie worships him with talented fingers.

At the end of the month, Eddie sells a painting: a sensual portrait of Stéfan in their bed.

#steddie #omegaverse #fanfiction #omega steve harrington #alpha eddie munson #ficlet #stranger things fic #thirsty thursday #historical au

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sweetcheeksschemmenti · 7 months ago

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Abracadabra:

Link if you want it:

Or! You can read it here :)

Word count: 1,475

Inspired by a line from a Chappell Roan song that’s been stuck in my head for weeks.

It’s a little spicy, but not too spicy! I’m not super comfortable writing smut, but decided to try it out again since it’s been a few years. Enjoy, cuties!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The birds were chirping and the sun was shining bright when you woke up that morning; you knew it was going to be a wonderful day. You rolled out of bed, pulled on your skirt and blouse, and waltzed out the door to make a stop at the coffee shop down the street. It had become your normal Friday routine to stop and grab a hot chocolate for yourself, and a coffee for your favorite coworker, Melissa Schemmenti. In turn, Melissa would bring a danish for you and a muffin for herself. You weren’t exactly sure when or how it happened, but you looked forward to it every week.

It had been a bit of a stressful week with state testing and the kids were over it just as much as the teachers were. Janine convinced Ava to allow her to set up a talent show as a ‘carrot’ for the end of testing week.

“Carrot? What the hell you mean, carrot? Ain’t nobody lookin’ for a vegetable, girl.”

Janine rubbed her temples, “You know, like when you put a carrot in front of a horse to keep them moving. It’s a little motivation to get people through the week.”

“Whatever. You can have a talent show, just make sure Melissa stays off the stage with her horrific impressions. I simply cannot listen to her butcher The Godfather again.”

You prepared all week to share your magic tricks with the school. Jacob caught wind and asked if you would like to join him in his magic act, claiming that your combined expertise would win you more applause. You reluctantly agreed and spent all of Thursday evening with him at Melissa’s house practicing. It wouldn’t have been so bad if the redhead had been there, but she spent the evening with Barbara instead.

You could smell Melissa’s perfume before you even stepped foot in the lounge and it made you smile. During your first year at Abbott you developed the tiniest crush on her, but at this point, you were flat out in love with the woman. You didn’t exactly hide the fact that you liked her that way, but you never said it out loud either. Melissa had told you she was bisexual but leaned more towards men fairly early on in your friendship when you told her you were a lesbian. After sharing a bottle of wine together you asked her what her type was.

“Big burly men with beards who can take care of me or pretty little ladies who with let me take care of them. What about you? So I know what to look out for for ya,” she responded with a chuckle.

You fought yourself not to reply with a simple ‘you’ and gave her a vague description of herself instead. She raised an eyebrow but didn’t push. The two of you shared some casual flirting over time, but you just chalked it up to her treating you like a close friend.

The lounge was already buzzing when you walked in, everyone talking about what their students were doing for their acts or which teachers signed up. You crossed the room to set your things down before walking over to Melissa to exchange goods. She beamed up at you when you placed your hand on her shoulder and her cup on the table in front of her.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week, thanks doll face,” she sipped her coffee and handed you a raspberry danish.

“Likewise! Thanks, pumpkin.” You winked at her and took your seat across the room with Janine, Gregory and Jacob, completely missing Melissa’s coy smile in response to the nickname.

The bell rang and everyone gathered their belongings to start the day. You and Melissa were the last ones in the room as you moved things in the fridge to fit your lunch. She came up behind you, resting her hand on your hip for balance as she leaned into the fridge with you to move her containers. You froze at the contact and mentally begged yourself not to blush. As she leaned further down, her hand slid over to your ass. Your eyes were glued to her cleavage, beautifully illuminated by the refrigerator light. You quickly turned your head when she caught you staring.

She stood up, her hand still slightly splayed your ass. Your face was beet red. “No need to steal glances hon, all you gotta do is ask,” she clicked her tongue and made her way out the door, swaying her hips dramatically. She knew you were watching.

More than a little flustered, you splashed cold water on your face and left to tend to your students. The hours ticked by and you struggled to focus on anything other than the feeling of Melissa’s hand on your backside. You were looking forward to spending lunch with her and Barbara, but Jacob insisted you practice with him one more time before the talent show. Between bites of pasta you made coins disappear and reappear from behind Jacob’s ear and cheered him on as he mastered revealing the chosen card.

The entire school gathered to watch the staff and students perform at the end of the day. You took a seat next to Melissa, waiting for your turn.

“You got any hidden talents you’re gonna share with us, red?” You poked at her side.

“Nah, can’t share my talents here kid. I wouldn’t be allowed back on school grounds,” she smirked. “Just joshin’, Ava forbade me from doing impressions so I’m stuck in the crowd. I’m excited to see what youse cooked up for your act though, Jacob hasn’t shut up about it.”

“Ha, I’m sure he hasn’t.”

Janine introduced your act and you followed Jacob onto the stage. The two of you played off of each other’s tricks with the crowd ooh-ing and aww-ing. You had always enjoyed tricking people with sleight of hand, but you enjoyed it even more when you were able to fool an entire auditorium. When the four minutes of fame were over you returned to your seat next to Melissa. She nodded her approval and continued to watch the show.

A few minutes later you excused yourself to use to restroom. The bathroom was empty and you did your business quickly. As you opened your stall door you jumped at the sight of Melissa sitting on the counter. You hadn’t even heard her come in.

“Oh Jesus!”

“It’s actually Melissa, but I get that one a lot.” She slid off the counter to stand next to you as you washed your hands.

“Very funny,” you rolled your eyes.

She moved closer, her breasts brushing your arm. “Yeah, but you like it when I’m cheesy like that.”

Your breathing hitched. “I d-do,” you stuttered and melting at the close proximity.

“So, tell me what else you like, gorgeous.” She was nearly straddling your right leg. Her eyes filled with fire as she brought her hand up to your cheek and traced a finger along your jaw line.

You stifled a whimper and bit your lip, unable to speak without making a fool of yourself. She moved even closer, now actually straddling your leg, you could feel the warmth of her. You placed your hands on the counter to keep yourself upright.

“I know you like magic.” She nuzzled her face into your hair and lowered her voice to a whisper, “I’ve got a wand and a rabbit.” She punctuated her sentence with a light nibble to your earlobe. You gasped; a cold chill ran up your spine and you couldn’t hide the shiver. Her hand on your left hip pulled you in between her legs so that her core was pressed firmly against your thigh.

You squeezed your eyes shut, you wanted her to ruin you right then and there, but the school day wasn’t over and the talent show was about to let out.

“Mel, I want this,” you whined and guided her free hand down to your soaked panties, wanting her to feel exactly how bad you wanted, needed, her. “But we can’t do that here, not now at least. Like you said, we wouldn’t be allowed back on a school grounds.”

She lifted your skirt so you could feel her own wetness through her leggings against your bare skin. “My house, eight o’clock.” Melissa kissed you with such fervor that it made you want to go back on your words. “Bring whatever other magic tricks you have up your sleeve, or in your nightstand drawer,” she winked and playfully smacked your ass as she walked away.

You tried desperately to gather your thoughts and some semblance of composure, your mind racing with the image of Melissa playing with her toys- and you. The redhead was going to be the death of you yet.

#abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x reader #jacob hill #ava coleman #janine teagues #magic tricks #red wine supernova

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miyuhpapayuh · 1 year ago

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Shame on me.

“It’s a shame for you,

It’s a shame for me..

Is the blame on you?

I could say the same for me!

After the wrong, is there a right?”

That’s exactly what she was wondering as she watches her boyfriend of one year, Lucky, sing to another random girl on stage.

It wasn’t even the fact that he was singing to them, because she understood the attraction that women had towards him, and she couldn’t blame them.

But, she didn’t think there was any real reason why he should be getting down on his knees and gripping them up and being all in their faces.

She’s expressed her slight frustration, once, and he chalked it up to her being paranoid. And of course, when that wasn’t enough to make her calm down, he fucked every doubt right out of her mind.

But, that only holds over for so long.

So, here they are again. Lucky out there on bended knee making some pretty brown girl squeal with joy, while his lover fumes behind the curtains.

After the show was over and the pair were on their way home, the unwanted conversation lingered in the air.

With her arms folded across her chest, she stared out of the window at the dark blue sky, while Lucky kept a tight grip on the steering wheel, already knowing that this was about to tear up his nerves.

“Wassup, baby?” He asks, briefly looking in her direction. “Why you facin’ the window?”

“Hm. I could think of a couple reasons, but I’ll keep ‘em to myself.”

He sucks his teeth. “Let’s not do this, tonight.”

“That’s why I said I’ll keep ‘em to myself.” She snaps, looking in his direction.

“Here we go.”

“David, please. If you’re not gonna be real, then just leave it alone.”

Taking offense, he pulls into an empty lot and parks the car.

She rolls her eyes, not moving her position. “It’s dark out here and you playin’.”

“I’m not playin’. I’m bein’ real. Wassup witchu?” He nudges her arm, pissing her off.

“You know exactly wassup with me. But, it ain’t no big deal to you, so whatever.”

“You sure? Cause, it’s whatever doesn’t sound like a very solid stance.”

She rolls her eyes. "Leave me alone."

He stares at her. “You gon tell me what's got you so angry or is it still whatever?"

“Fuck you, Lucky. Seriously.” She spats, fully facing him. "You know why I'm upset. It's why I'm always upset, with no good reason, according to you."

“You know what? I don’t know what it’s gonna take for you to understand. Why we gotta argue? You don’t see me blowin’ up at you for them lil stunts you be pullin’!” He responds.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“Right. We got amnesia, now? You don’t be posting half naked all over Instagram, every week?”

“Are you serious, right now?” She asks.

“Dead serious. You always trippin’ and goin’ on bout me and what I be doin’, like you ain’t out here lookin’ like you want some attention.”

“Well, I wonder why the fuck that is!” She huffs.

“So, that’s my fault too, huh?” He chuckles, resuming his driving to their destination.

“Fucking duh.” She grumbles, continuing to stare out of the window.

“I’m not looking for anybody’s attention, but yours. You stupid motherfucker. But, you’re too busy giving it to them heffas you call fans.”

“You act like I’m cheating on you.”

“You might as well be.” She quips.

“Just let me know when you’re ready to have a rational conversation.” He pats her knee, chuckling again as she jerks away from his touch.

Back at home, the pair’s annoyance with each other continued to fester.

“Aren’t you tired of walking back and forth, yet?” Lucky asks, growing tired of her pacing the expansive floor in front of their bed. “Come sit down, please.”

“Not if you’re not gonna listen to me. I might as well go downstairs.”

“I’m listening to you! I’ve been all ears, all night!” He grows defensive, his voice rising by the slightest.

“Lucky, fix your tone.” She warns.

Sighing to himself, he shakes his head. “Please, just come and sit down.”

Reluctantly sitting down beside him, she looks up at him. He’s already staring back at her.

“Talk.”

“I’m not cheating on you. I go out on stage and do my job. You know I love my fans. I just go out there and make ‘em happy. That’s it. I’m sorry that I made you feel disrespected and neglected, baby. That was never my intention.” He frowns, reaching out to grab her hands into his own.

“You know how I get.. it’s no excuse, but I just can’t handle someone being that close to you. Touching you and clinging onto you like I do. And, it makes it worse when you indulge, but I know that’s your job. I got it. I’m sorry, too.”

“That’s how I felt, when you was postin’ that shit on the gram.” He snorts, “had ya ass hangin’ out, muhfuckas lookin’ at my goods and shit.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” She pouts.

“I should bend you ova’ my knee,” his deep brown eyes glow in the dimly lit room. She fails to hide the smirk growing on her lips.

As the tension leaves the room, it’s quickly replaced by lust so thick, it clouds their minds.

“Come’ere.” She beckons him with a single finger, resulting in him tackling her into the sheets, pulling and yanking at her clothes, until she’s as naked as the day she was born.

She tugs on the bottom of his shirt, before his hands place hers on the bed. “Stay just like this.”

Kissing her rebuttal away, his lips touch every part of her skin as he sinks into her lap, guiding her long legs over his shoulders.

Her hands quickly thread into his coils, tugging as his tongue glides over her clit, down to her opening and back up.

Over and over.

“Oh fuuuuuuck!” She moans.

“Mmmmh,” he moans against her, driving her wild. His hands rubbing up and down her sides.

“Shit!,” she breathes. “Just like that!”

Adding his index and middle finger to the equation, she explodes in no time.

But, he didn’t cease, until he brought her to another climax so intense, she damn near pushed him away.

He chuckles, rising up from the bed to strip.

“I ain’t even gave you this dick yet, baby. Don’t tap out on me, yet.”

Sinking back into between her legs, his eyes lock on hers as they move in sync.

“I love you,” he mumbles over her parted lips, her breathing slowly picking up.

“I love you, too.”

Hips grinding against hers, poking at that spot that seizes her up.

“Yes, babyy… that’s the spot.” She whines, sinking her nails into his hips as he picks up speed with every thrust, til he’s damn near pounding into her.

“My god!” She whimpers, lifting her head up to look between them at the mess they’re making, not getting far as Lucky pushes her head back towards the pillows.

“So fuckin’ good… mmm!” He growls, hand cupping her face.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna—- oooh shit, baby!” Her legs open and close around his thighs, fighting off her release.

“Cum on this dick, baby,” was enough to drive her over the edge, her nails digging into his back.

Tossing her onto her stomach, he wastes no time sliding back into her. She bites down on her bottom lip.

“Don’t get all quiet now… talk yo shit, babe.” He taunts, easily locating one of her many spots.

“Unh… fuck you,” she moans, rolling her hips against him.

He deeply chuckles, smacking her ass. “Fuck me, huh.”

“Mmmhm.. I hate you.” She teases, smirking once he grabs the front of her neck and begins to drive into her, roughly.

Her mouth falls open, nothing but gasps escaping as his strokes actively take her breath away.

“You hate me… but, you love when I get up in this pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes!”

“You love when daddy make you cum, don’t you?”

“Yesss, yes! Deeper… deeper, baby!” She yells, drunk on his stroke.

Doing just that, he touches her soul with just a few thrusts, her eyes almost rolling out of her head.

“Fuck,” she gasps, gripping the sheets in her hands. “Right there, babyyyy… right there!”

“I’m where you need me, baby?”

“Yeah! I’m gonna cum— I’m gonna cum!” Her arch begins to falter as her orgasm shatters through her, pulling him down as well.

“Ah shitttt,” his grip on her neck tightens, before slowly loosening as he fills her with his warmth.

“Mmh,” he sighs, pressing kisses up her spine as she comes down from her high. “You still mad at me?”

They share a laugh.

Some toxic filth for y'all lmao enjoy!

@ghostfacekill-monger @sheabuttahwrites @honestpreference @harmshake @thegifstories @blackerthings @henneseyhoe @brwnsugababe @soufcakmistress @abeautifulmindexposed @twistedcharismaaa @headcannonxgalore @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @cecereads209 @nayaxwrites @planetblaque @starcrossedxwriter @megamindsecretlair

#lucky daye #lucky daye smut #miyuhpapayuh #poc writers #blackwriters #black romance #smut #Spotify

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cheynovak · 2 months ago

Text

Sheriff’s Bargain

Characters: Beau Arlen x F/Reader Y/N

Summary: Y/N, a seasoned con artist, is arrested after returning to Montana, where her past comes back to haunt her in the form of Sheriff Beau Arlen—the man she abandoned five years ago. Facing charges linked to a drug lord, she’s offered a deal to work as an informant. Torn between her criminal life and lingering feelings for Beau, Y/N must decide whether to help him bring down the crime ring or continue running from her past.

Warnings: Mentioning of breaking the law

English is not my first language

*Please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated*

I’ve always lived by one rule: never get attached. It’s a good rule when your life revolves around lies, schemes, and the occasional robbery. My world was all about the next con, the next score. Keep it simple. Keep it clean. And most importantly, never catch feelings.

But then I swiped right on Beau Arlen.

It all started with a silly swipe on an online dating app. I’d been scrolling aimlessly, a glass of wine in hand, bored out of my mind, when his profile caught my eye. Tall, rugged, with an easy smile and sun-kissed hair, he was the definition of all-American charm.

Sheriff.

That little detail was tucked away in his bio, barely noticeable. I knew then it wasn’t just boredom pulling me into a potential meet-up; this was a chance. Law enforcement wasn’t usually my playground, but something about him made me curious. A sheriff? That kind of information could be worth a lot in the right hands.

I was hooked. So, I did what I do best. I played the part—Y/N, the carefree, slightly adventurous girl just looking for a connection. We started chatting, and he was exactly what I expected—kind, witty, a little rough around the edges but warm. He was also recently divorced. No kids. And I learned, without even asking, that I was the first woman he’d dated since. That little fact should’ve sent warning bells off in my head, but instead, it intrigued me. Made me want to know more about him, which was the first sign I was slipping.

I could already picture our first date, where I’d play innocent and sweet while subtly probing for information. The game was on.

Two days later, I found myself in the dimly lit corner of a small bar in Austin, Texas, waiting for Beau to arrive. The place was a quiet little spot on the outskirts of town, not flashy but comfortable. The kind of place where people didn’t ask too many questions, which worked perfectly for me.

I caught my reflection in the glass behind the bar—subtle makeup, a touch of vulnerability in my expression, nothing to hint at what I was really up to. It was all part of the game. I had done this a hundred times before. The thrill of deception, of being in control, made my blood hum with excitement.

Then the door swung open, and there he was. Even in the dim light, Beau Arlen commanded the room. He spotted me, his eyes lighting up with that easy-going smile. It hit me—he wasn’t just handsome. He had a presence. Something solid. Steady.

I hadn’t expected that.

“Y/N, right?” His voice was deep, with a Southern drawl that made my skin tingle. I smiled, standing up to meet him.

“That’s me. Beau, right?” I played it cool, though my heart was beating a little faster than usual. I chalked it up to the challenge ahead.

As the night went on, we talked and laughed, and I skillfully steered the conversation, dropping little hints, hoping he’d spill some intel about the sheriff’s department or something juicy I could sell to one of my mob contacts. But he didn’t take the bait.

Instead, he told me about growing up in Texas, his time in law enforcement, and how hard the divorce had been on him. How he hadn’t dated anyone seriously since the split. I was the first. The way he said it, so matter-of-fact, yet vulnerable, made something inside me twist. This wasn’t just another target. This was a good man, a man who had been hurt. A man who trusted me.

That’s when I felt the first crack in my carefully built walls.

One date turned into two. Then three. Each time, I told myself it was just part of the plan. I’d get the information I needed, make my move, and disappear before he ever realized who I really was. That’s how it always went. But every time I met up with Beau, something shifted.

I found myself laughing more. Enjoying his company. He was good. Not in the usual way I was used to, not someone trying to get something from me. He was just good. And damn it, that scared me.

The night we were supposed to go to a local diner, I had a plan. I'd go home with him and I’d dug around, found out where Beau kept his work laptop. All I had to do was slip away while he was distracted, clone his drive, and sell the sheriff’s department intel to the highest bidder.

Easy.

Except it wasn’t.

We sat in his truck after dinner, parked by a lake just outside the city, and he looked at me—really looked at me. Not like I was Y/N, the girl I pretended to be, but like he saw something deeper. Something real. His thumb brushed against my hand, and for a second, I forgot what I was supposed to be doing.

“You know, I didn’t expect this,” he said softly, his voice rumbling like distant thunder.

“Expect what?” I asked, my heart doing weird somersaults in my chest.

“To actually like you,” he said, turning to face me fully. “I mean, I thought you were pretty, sure, but this… it feels like more.”

My breath hitched. This wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t supposed to feel… anything. But I did.

I’d conned a hundred men before Beau. And not once had I ever felt guilty. Not once had I ever hesitated. But now, looking into his eyes, I knew I was in trouble.

“I don’t think you’re telling me everything,” he added, his voice soft but firm, like he knew something was off but wasn’t sure what.

My pulse raced. Did he know? Had he figured me out?

I could end it here. Lie. Run. Disappear like I always did. But then, he leaned closer, his hand brushing a strand of hair behind my ear, and I couldn’t do it. Not this time.

“Beau, I—” I stopped myself, words failing me for the first time in forever.

I pulled away just before his lips could touch mine.

“I—I’m sorry, Beau. I can’t.”

I scrambled out of the truck, my heart pounding, and started walking. I didn’t know where I was going, just that I had to get away. I couldn’t do this. I couldn’t let him in.

“Y/N!” Beau called after me, his voice tinged with confusion and worry. “Wait! What’s wrong?”

I kept walking, my breath coming in shallow bursts. I heard his footsteps behind me, getting closer until his hand caught my wrist, gently pulling me to a stop.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his eyes searching mine.

I wanted to tell him. I wanted to spill everything, but I couldn’t. Instead, I surged forward and kissed him. Soft, quick, just a taste of what could’ve been. When I pulled back, Beau looked at me, eyes wide with confusion.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, my throat tightening. “This isn’t working out.”

The hurt flashed in his eyes, but I didn’t wait for him to respond. I turned and walked away, each step feeling like I was ripping my own heart out.

By the time I got back to my apartment, I had made my decision. I couldn’t stay in Texas. Not with Beau here. If I did, I’d only end up hurting him worse. I packed my bags quickly, grabbing whatever I could fit, and disappeared into the night like I always did. No note, no goodbye. Just gone.

Five years.

It had been five years since I left Texas. Since I left Beau. I told myself it was for the best, that he deserved someone better. Someone real. I moved from city to city, pulling cons, making deals, and trying to forget the way he made me feel.

But I never did.

And now, here I was, back in Montana. The last place I ever thought I’d return to. The past, the one I’d tried to bury beneath years of schemes and lies, still haunted me in the form of a tall, rugged sheriff named Beau Arlen.

I thought of him more times than I cared to admit. His smile, his voice, the way he looked at me like I was someone worth knowing. Someone real. I was too much of a coward to look him up, to even think about reaching out. Instead, I did what I did best—hid behind the shadows. I checked his Facebook like some creep, scrolling through his life from the safety of a screen, always too afraid to hit that “Add Friend” button. He looked happy. He seemed like he’d moved on.

I told myself I had too. I built a flawless career as a private contractor, stealing, selling intel, playing my cards right with every dangerous figure I crossed. Everything was perfect.

Five years of dodging bullets and walking out of every con cleanly came to a crashing halt. I got caught. They found a trail leading back to me. Somehow, they connected me to an old case in this godforsaken town. I didn’t even remember the details anymore. I’d worked for a drug baron here once, years ago. A minor job. But I should have known better than to think I could outrun every ghost from my past.

The small, gray interrogation room smelled like stale coffee and disinfectant. I sat at the table, my hands cuffed in front of me, but I wasn’t worried. I’d been in tighter spots before, and I was always good at talking my way out. If I played this right, I could convince them I was just another innocent woman in the wrong place at the wrong time.

But what I wasn’t prepared for had just walked into the room.

The door swung open, and there he was. Beau.

Sheriff Beau Arlen.

The world seemed to stop as he stepped into the room, his broad frame filling the doorway. He was even more rugged than I remembered—his shoulders a little broader, his face a little more weathered, like the years had hardened him in ways I hadn’t expected. But his eyes—those sharp, piercing eyes—still had that same warmth I used to get lost in. Except now, there was something else there. Something colder. Something guarded.

I swallowed hard, my heart slamming against my ribcage as his gaze locked on me. For a second, I thought I saw recognition flash across his face, but he didn’t give anything away. He just stood there, towering over me, a shadow from my past I couldn’t ignore any longer.

"Well," he said slowly, his voice low and steady, "this is a surprise."

I forced a smile, my brain scrambling for something to say, something that would make this less awkward, less… devastating.

“Beau,” I breathed, the sound of his name on my lips feeling both familiar and foreign. “Sheriff in Montana now, huh?”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against the doorframe. “Yeah. A lot’s changed since you ran out on me.”

I flinched at the reminder, feeling the weight of my past mistakes crashing down on me. I opened my mouth to respond, but nothing came out. I wasn’t prepared for this. I wasn’t prepared for him.

Beau pushed off the wall and walked slowly toward the table, his eyes never leaving mine. “You were always good at disappearing, Y/N. But I gotta say, I didn’t expect you to turn up in my town again. And especially not like this.”

I couldn’t help the bitter laugh that escaped me. “Trust me, neither did I.”

He sat down across from me, his expression unreadable. The tension between us was thick, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on both of us. I wanted to explain, to tell him why I left, but the words stuck in my throat. What could I say? That I was scared? That I wasn’t good enough for him?

“So,” he said, breaking the silence. “Are you gonna tell me what you’ve been up to these last few years? Or do I have to guess?” He motioned the map in front of him.

I swallowed hard, trying to maintain my composure. The old me—the con artist—was good at staying cool under pressure. But sitting here, across from Beau, my past and present crashing together, I felt completely exposed.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” I said, forcing a smirk I didn’t feel.

His gaze hardened slightly. “Try me.”

I leaned back in my chair, trying to regain some control. “It’s not what it looks like. I wasn’t involved in that mess you claim. Yeah, I worked for a guy who… let’s just say he wasn’t exactly on the right side of the law. But that was a long time ago.”

Beau didn’t say anything, just watched me with those intense eyes, waiting for more. I could feel him seeing through every half-truth, every lie I was about to tell.

“Look,” I sighed, “I’m good at what I do. Too good, apparently. But I’m not the bad guy here. I didn’t expect to get dragged into some old case. It’s a misunderstanding.”

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper. “And what should I believe, Y/N? The woman who ran out on me without a word? Or the con artist who’s sitting in front of me now?”

My breath caught in my throat, his words cutting deeper than I’d expected. He knew. He’d known all along what I was. And I’d left him to deal with the pieces.

“I never meant to hurt you,” I said softly, my voice cracking.

Beau’s jaw clenched, the tension rolling off him in waves. “Anyway.”

The silence between us stretched on, heavy and suffocating. I didn’t know what to say. For once, I had no plan, no angle. It was just me and him, with all the lies I’d told hanging between us.

Finally, Beau stood up, his expression unreadable. “You’ll have your chance to explain everything in court. Until then, you’re staying here.”

He turned to leave, but just before he walked out the door, he stopped and glanced back at me, his eyes softer, almost sad.

“Five years, Y/N,” he said quietly. “I waited for you to come back. But I guess I never thought it would be like this.”

And just like that, he was gone. The door closed behind him with a finality that echoed through the empty room.

I leaned back in my chair, staring at the cold, metal table in front of me. I had been prepared to face the law, the consequences of my actions.

But I wasn’t prepared to face Beau.

After hours of being questioned and trying to maintain my calm facade, they finally led me to a cell for the night. The cold metal bars and uncomfortable cot were a far cry from the life I’d gotten used to. But it wasn’t the first time I found myself behind bars—though, this time, the stakes felt higher. This time, it wasn’t just a con gone wrong or a deal gone sideways. This time, it was Beau.

The weight of the past—the lies, the broken promises—pressed on my chest as I lay on the thin mattress, staring at the ceiling. I replayed the moment he walked into that interrogation room over and over in my mind. The look in his eyes, the way he had spoken to me like I was both a stranger and someone he knew too well. Five years, and it felt like no time had passed. I hated that I still cared. I hated that he still had that effect on me.

I closed my eyes, willing myself to sleep, but the memories wouldn’t let me rest. What could have been. What I’d lost.

By morning, I was exhausted, but I wasn’t surprised when Beau showed up again. This time, though, there was something different in his demeanor. Less tension, more determination.

He stepped into the cell block, arms crossed as he leaned against the bars. “You look like hell,” he said, though there was a flicker of something softer in his tone.

“Thanks, Sheriff,” I muttered, pushing myself up to sit on the edge of the cot. “It’s not exactly the Four Seasons in here.”

He didn’t smile. His eyes, clear and unreadable, stayed locked on mine as he walked over and unlocked the door.

“We need to talk,” Beau said, his voice low, all business. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. “A proposition? Let me guess, you’re about to offer me a way out of here if I spill some dirt?”

He shrugged, leaning against the wall with that infuriating calm of his. “Something like that. Here’s the deal: you work with us on this case, become an informant, and help us bring down the drug ring you were involved with years ago. In return, I’ll see what I can do about your punishment.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes. “What do you have on me, Beau? Because I don’t think you’re offering this out of the kindness of your heart.”

For a moment, his expression hardened, but then he sighed. “Right now? We’ve only got this case—the drug operation from a few years back. We can link you to some old players, but nothing major... Yet.” He paused, letting the weight of his words settle in.

“But I’m good at digging, Y/N. If I want to, I’ll find more. I know now how you operate. You’ve left a trail, and it’s only a matter of time before I catch up to it.”

My stomach tightened. He wasn’t bluffing, and I knew it. I’d done a lot of things over the years, and if Beau really wanted to bring me down, he could. He’d find enough to keep me locked up for a long time.

“So, what?” I asked, leaning back against the wall and crossing my arms. “You want me to turn informant, feed you intel on the people I worked with, and in exchange, you’ll make sure I don’t rot in here for the rest of my life?”

“Pretty much.” His voice was even, controlled. “You help us, and I’ll do what I can to make sure you walk away from this with as little damage as possible.”

I stared at him, trying to gauge if this was a trick, but I knew Beau well enough to know he didn’t play games like I did. He was giving me a chance—a real one. Maybe the only one I’d get.

I looked down at my hands, the cuffs no longer around my wrists but the weight of the offer felt just as binding. Was this the way out? The part of me that had always survived by running wanted to take the deal, to keep my head above water and stay one step ahead of the law. But there was another part of me, the one that had started to unravel the moment Beau walked into that interrogation room, that wondered if I was finally done running.

“Fine,” I said after a long silence, my voice steady. “I’ll do it. I’ll work with you. But I want to know what I’m dealing with here. How much danger am I in?”

Beau’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The drug baron you worked for, Declan King, is still a player. He’s gone underground, but his network is vast, and we’ve been after him for years. You’ve got connections. You’ve got intel. That’s why we need you.” He paused, his eyes darkening slightly.

“But make no mistake, Y/N—if King or his people find out you’re working with us, you’ll be in more danger than just sitting in this cell.”

I swallowed, nodding. I knew what I was getting into. Hell, I’d danced with danger my whole life. This was just another step in the same game.

“Alright, Sheriff,” I said, standing up and meeting his gaze. “I’m in. I’ll help you take down King.”

Beau didn’t move for a moment, just stared at me like he was trying to figure out if I was bluffing. But then he nodded once, curtly. “Good. You’ll start today. We’ll set up a safe line of communication, and you’ll feed us whatever you know. But don’t think for a second this is going to be easy. One misstep, and this deal’s off.”

I forced a smile, though my heart was pounding in my chest. “Don’t worry. I don’t make missteps.”

His eyes flickered with something—something I couldn’t quite read—but he turned to leave, pausing just before stepping out of the cell.

“And, Y/N?” he said, his voice soft but laced with warning. “This isn’t just about you getting out of trouble. I expect you to come through on this. Don’t make me regret giving you this chance.”

The door shut behind him, and I was left alone in the cell, the reality of the deal sinking in. I had agreed to work with the law—to work with Beau—and for the first time in my life, I wasn’t sure if I was doing the right thing or setting myself up for a fall.

But one thing was certain: there was no turning back now.

Let me know what you think, like, share or comment <3 If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

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musicalmoritz · 3 months ago

Note

this gonna be a weird question but ever since i have know Aoinene. I have always found a consistent theme of Aoi being a lesbian. While it cool, interesting and all, it hard to found anything canonically to use to prove the interpretation beyond "it just a vibe" . It doesnt interfer with the shipping experience but it still an interesting HC that i would love to found some canon material to build on.

I’m so glad you asked this, I’ve been trying to find a way to talk about my feelings on the lesbian Aoi headcanon for a while now. I’ve written it in my own fics a lot but I have some issues with the way people treat it so I’d like to make this a more nuanced discussion

First off, where does it come from? To answer that question you have to keep in mind that as the manga chapters were being released, fans had no idea where AidaIro planned to go with Aoi and Akane’s relationship beyond what they could infer. While it seems obvious in hindsight that Aoi always liked Akane, a lot of lesbian readers overlooked those hints because they were able to relate to being pursued by a relentless man that they didn’t want. They found comfort in Aoi’s character because her perceived disinterest in Akane was something they could connect to their own experiences with their male best friends falling for them

Then we have this scene, which is a whole rollercoaster in and of itself. At this point in the manga, fans didn’t know Aoi was faking her personality. She only existed as Nene’s popular best friend, the girl with the rumors. And, of course, the girl who kept rejecting Akane. Aoi and Nene seemed to have a very close friendship, so when this scene came out, many readers jumped to the conclusion that Aoi planned to confess to Nene. This, coupled with her constant rejection of Akane, led many fans to believe Aoi was a lesbian. Not just as a cool headcanon, but as an actual theory. To this day some fans still call her queercoded, and that’s where I have a bit of an issue with the headcanon

Because, despite all of this, Aoi isn’t a lesbian in canon. She’s not even coded to be one. In fact her and Akane’s characters aren’t able to develop without each other. Some fans chalk this up to bad writing or lesbiphobia, stating that Aoi never showed interest in Akane up until chapter 69, but this simply isn’t true. There were numerous hints that Aoi liked Akane back, since his feelings for her were first introduced. She’s shown to be absolutely devastated at the possibility of him dating someone else, and in the Clock Keepers arc we see that she’s been encouraging his pursuit of her this whole time. Fans may not like them, but it’s impossible to deny they’ve been set up since the beginning of the manga- on both sides

However, if you were to call Aoi sapphic coded/bi coded in canon, you wouldn’t be far off. In the Hanako-Kun Of Magic au, Mei fell in love with Aoi through a spell. After the spell wore off, they were confirmed to still hang out. They hang out so frequently, that it makes Mei’s little sister jealous because Aoi is stealing all her attention

It wouldn’t be a reach to assume they’re dating in this au, which would make Aoi bi or bi-coded in canon (though it’s very up to interpretation so I wouldn’t say she’s as strongly bi-coded as Kou or even Nene). It rubs me the wrong way when people discuss her potential queercoding and entirely ignore her feelings for Akane just because they don’t like the ship, it feels biphobic. It’s also been implied that Aoi has liked men (or people in general) other than Akane, he joins school clubs based on whoever her current type is

Canon aside though, I’d like to talk about why people like the lesbian Aoi headcanon. Namely, why I still like it in fanon despite feeling that it has a very weak basis in canon. Because for some fans, Aoi’s true personality reveal only made their love of the lesbian Aoi headcanon stronger

Remember how I said fans overlooked Aoi’s feelings for Akane because they projected onto her? I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with that as long as they aren’t bringing their bias into analyses. I’ve read many Aoi queercoding analyses where the creator completely ignores Aoi’s attraction to men in canon due to their own projection, and I hate to say it but that is a bad way to analyze. I’ve mentioned before that I strongly relate to Nene’s shallow crushes on men because they remind me of my own experiences with comphet, but I would never call Nene lesbian coded because that would ignore her entire arc with Hanako. Project onto characters all you want but leave that out of your analyses

Anyways, the reveal that Aoi had been faking her personality only gave the lesbian Aoi headcanon more fuel. At this point in the manga, fans were already fully convinced that Aoi was a lesbian…so to find out the pretty popular girl was hiding her true self from the world?? I mean that sounds queercoded as hell. And I won’t lie, I relate to that a lot too. The need to hide who you really are is a nearly universal queer experience, so pretty much any character that has that storyline is going to hit home for a lot of queer readers. That same trope also plays into Mitsuba’s queercoding, so yeah. Despite all the romance stuff with Akane that happened in those chapters, the big takeaway for lesbian Aoi truthers was that Aoi had been hiding a part of herself that the world would shame her for

This is furthered by her relationship with femininity. Aoi plays the role of the ideal popular girl, a common archetype in media. These girls are feminine, passive, kind, humble, and all the boys love them. That is the image Aoi presents to the rest of the school. However, the real Aoi is nothing like that. I wouldn’t go as far as to call her masculine, but she doesn’t act like the poster child for femininity when she’s being her true self. She’s bitter, arrogant, spiteful, and she only really cares about two people. Lesbians tend to have a very complicated relationship with femininity, because heteronormativity asserts that the defining trait of being a woman is your relationship to a man. As a woman, you are someone’s wife, daughter, mother, sister. So when a woman has no interest in men, she loses a core part of her “femininity.” Some lesbians choose to embrace this, they have no interest in femininity so they perform whatever gender presentation they want. Other lesbians reclaim femininity as something defined by themselves, not society. So when lesbians see a character faking her personality to conform to the societal expectations for her gender…oops she’s one of us now lol. This is also why the transmasc Aoi headcanon is popular, though I won’t be getting into that today

There are more simplistic reasons people like the lesbian Aoi headcanon. It fits a trope, the popular girl who’s pressured to be perfect is secretly a lesbian. Then she falls for her fun and quirky bisexual best friend. Unfortunately this is where the headcanon gets very boiled down, people want Aoi to be something that she’s not in canon. They want her to be a trope rather than her own, unique character. The aesthetic girlboss lesbian. She hates Akane and has a huge crush on Nene, maybe some mommy issues and that’s all there is to her. I don’t like these type of headcanons very much, they reduce queerness to an aesthetic rather than an experience. As I mentioned, the lesbian Aoi headcanon does have potential for fanon content, but some fans sadly reduce it to a stereotype

I’ve written both bisexual and lesbian Aoi, and I think they both have their perks. Lesbian Aoi requires a bit of stretching/rewriting of canon, which can be fun but it has to be handled very carefully. Otherwise you get fics that villainize Akane and ignore Aoi and Nene’s complexities. It’s perfectly fine to project onto a character and headcanon them a certain way for comfort, but in terms of characterization I would recommend people try to look past those biases when they’re writing analyses. Fanfic is a bit different bcuz that depends on whether or not you’re trying to stay in character lol, this might be controversial but some writers just don’t care and that’s fine too. They’re just writing it for fun, it doesn’t have to be that serious. Still, I would like to see more fics that keep Aoi and Nene closer to canon (they absolutely exist dw)

The reason I hesitated for so long to address this headcanon is because I wanted to find a way to talk about it sensitively. Queer fans, especially lesbians, already get a lot of flack for their headcanons and I didn’t want to make it seem like I was invalidating anyone’s experiences. If the lesbian Aoi headcanon brings you comfort then, yes, Aoi can absolutely be a lesbian. Fandom is about fan enjoyment, not authorial intent, so headcanon the characters however you want. Just don’t push those headcanons into others, and try to at least be aware of what’s going on in canon. And again, don’t write an analysis if you’re going to be biased. A better way to do it would be something like “I recognize that AidaIro didn’t go this route but it would’ve been interesting if they made Aoi a lesbian.” An analysis like that might have some weight to it!! Aoi and Akane are a super cute ship, but another straight relationship is nothing revolutionary in fiction. However, canon lesbians in a shonen series?? That’s something you don’t see every day. People have valid reasons for wishing Aoi had been written differently, I just wish they would accept that she didn’t get written that way rather than ignoring canon

Sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting, I hope I explained all sides of the headcanon well enough. Tbh a lot of it is just “vibes” but once you look past the surface, it goes a lot deeper. I also want to clarify that Aoi faking her personality reading as queercoding could absolutely work with her being bi too, bisexuals also have to hide a part of themselves and that’s something other lgbtq+ individuals often overlook. The reason it reads specifically as lesbian coding to some fans is because of her projection of femininity being fake so, by extension, her encouragement of the men who pursue her must be too. That’s obviously not canon but some fans believe it would’ve been a cool route to go. Okay that’s it I think I covered everything lol

Thanks again for the ask, I’m glad I finally got the opportunity to talk abt this <3

#aoinene #ask #ask me anything #aoi akane #nene yashiro #mei shijima #akane aoi #analyses #fandom analysis #headcanons #lesbian #tbhk #toilet bound hanako kun

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