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shegatsby · 9 months ago

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Love Thy Enemy

Summary; Y/N Atreides had always been a stranger to the entire galaxy, her bed wasn’t her bed, her home wasn’t her home due to the fact that she was sent to accompany and be sisters with Irulan. She had limited access to her actual family and over the years they grew distant. She thought she would be like Reverend Mother, alone, yet powerful, and soon she would realize that there was no need of being alone when a wild creature had his eyes on her for a long time.

A/N; HI!!! Its been a long time since I wrote a series but i cannot resist Feyd. English isn''t my first language so go easy on me. There will be smut in the future chapters. TAG LIST IS OPEN!!!!!! (Reader has a lover and Feyd's going to find out lol 😉😉😉)

Warnings; None. Female Bene Gesserit Reader x Feyd-Rautha, enemies to lovers! reader is reffered to as she/her.

Words; 1.520K

Chapter 2

Chapter One – ‘’Meeting in flesh and blood’’

‘’Right behind you!’’ Irulan screamed as she was riding her horse to match Y/N’s. Y/N was a skilled rider, the wind in her long hair, she laughed at Irulan’s attempt of winning the race and focused on the finish line. Planet Kaitian which was the second Capital of the Corrino Empire had so many opportunities for Padishah Emperor Shaddam’s daughter Irulan and his beloved Y/N. The planet had forests, lakes and rivers so Y/N didn’t miss much of her home planet Caladan, she sometimes tossed and turned in her bed thinking of her family members but she was taken to Kaitain years ago. Irulan and Y/N were the same age and when Shaddam couldn’t have more children he asked Duke Leto Atreides to bring his first born daughter to be sisters with Irulan. Leto tried to find so many ways to refuse Padishah Emperor yet he was the ultimate power in the entire galaxy and Leto had no choice but to give his daughter Y/N. She was one years old when the arrangements were made. She could see her family at political events or celebrations, she had been in Caladan few times yet she felt stranger to the planet and she felt stranger to Kaitain as well. She has always wondered if, by any chance one day she would feel the sensation of ‘’being at home’’ nowhere and no one was her home. Maybe this was her fate.

When she finished the race her horse calmed down, Irulan followed behind. ‘’I swear you’re cheating and I am going to find out.’’ She was joking of course, Irulan and Y/N had a close relationship yet Y/N never forgot that she was a princess and there for needed to be treated more cautiously than the other lords and ladies of the galaxy. Together they hopped off of their horses, ‘’Walk with me.’’ Irulan’s voice was soft yet direct. Her short blonde hair got messy, hem of her white long dress covered in mud, she was carefree when she was with Y/N.

Y/N had the color of her house Atreides. Green. Her green dress felt so light, they were walking on the grass for few minutes in silence., Y/N knew that Irulan wanted to say something.

Palace’s gardens were evergreen, gardeners achieved perfection. Gardens smelled of flowers at any time of the year. Irulan stopped in her tracks, they turned to soak in the scenery before their eyes, the entire planet was under their feet. Servants’ chatters could be heard, no matter what they were never alone. ‘’Soon my father will throw a ball for me.’’ She looked distant, Padishah Emperor Shaddam never had parties without a solid reason, it must be political. Before Y/N could ask Irulan explained simply, ‘’I will meet the man I have to marry.’’ Y/N knew one day that she had to marry someone in order to protect the power they had over the galaxy but she never thought the date would come this quick. Y/N had already a lover, only Irulan knew because he was from a lower house. She had a childish hope that one day she would marry him.

Irulan laughed in sarcasm, ‘’How I wish to be you, sister!’’ it was obvious that Irulan dreaded the situation.

There were no arrangements for Y/N and she was free for a long time or so she thought.

‘’I trust in Emperor’s decision. He won’t wed you to someone unworthy.’’ She tried to encourage her dear friend but Irulan stood there like a stone. ‘’Let’s head back.’’ Y/N said. A hollow silence followed them to the dining hall. Emperor couldn’t attend because he was dealing with preparations of the ball. The white marble fire place was lit and orange colors danced in the room, the dining hall was adorned with lavish furniture and a long wooden table. The wood came from Giedi Prime, it was called Pilingitam.

Irulan seemed troubled, ‘’What’s on your mind sister?’’ Y/N asked. She was concerned for her, if she knew that she had to be concerned for herself…

She watched Irulan’s palm slithering on the Pilingitam table,’’ Majority of the houses will be at the ball,’’ she looked up to meet Y/N’s curious eyes, ‘’The Harkonnens will be too.’’ Y/N’s blood ran cold, she remembered the times where Emperor used to take them to Giedi Prime for political reasons. They had to sit and watch the games in the black and white arena. Gladiators killing each other…

She remembered a boy with pure blue eyes and full lips, ‘’I will fight there too when I’m old enogh.’’ He was sitting next to Y/N in his black outfit. He closed the tiny gap between him and Y/N, and he spoke quietly, ‘’Will you come and watch me?’’ he was speaking as if killing was a normal act. His knee touching Y/N’s, she remembered distinctly that the boy interlaced his little finger with hers. They were ten and yet Y/N could see Baron Vladimir’s influence on his poor nephew.

Y/N didn’t need to go back in her memories to detest the Harkonnens. Their families were in and out of war for centuries. Thankfully for a long time peace was kept. ‘’I will manage.’’ She insured Irulan with a genuine smile yet it wasn’t enough. Y/N brushed it off, after dinner she had mental training anyways.

Until the day of the ball she corresponded with her lover, Pyramus

He was a tall man with dark curls and jet black eyes. His beard always tickled her face.

She spent her days training and accompanying Irulan. Irulan grew restless as the they approached.

One by one the ships started to arrive, one could look up to the busy blue sky and see. Y/N’s family arrived early to see her and spend time with her. Lady Jessica, her mother, immediately questioned her about Y/N’s Bene Gesserit training, Duke Leto was happy to see her daughter once again. Paul, her one year younger brother gave her a tight hug.

They were united once more, she escorted them to their quarters in the palace and retrieved to get ready for the event. She wore a green dress with emeralds on her chest and waist, her maid braided her hair in Atreides style. She also wore an emerald tiara. Paul Atreides knocked on her door to escort her to the ball room, he looked sharp in his dark green suit. ‘’You seem nervous.’’ He questioned, -Y/N knew that her mother was teaching Bene Gesserit ways to her brother,- yes she was nervous because she was going to be reunited with her lover. ‘’Too many people.’’ She responded. Servants were running with food and wine on the corridors, music could be heard from a distance. Members of houses were having conversations about spice, politics, etc.

The doors of the room were open, inside was lit by the yellow warm lights coming from glowglobes, guests laughing and drinking. Tallest member was Baron Vladimir due to hanging in the air, eating like a mad man but she ignored him.

Her eyes searching for her lover, so blind to an outsider who got her under his radar.

Paul and Y/N walked to the table of their house, ‘’You look lovely my girl.’’ Duke Leto kissed her daughter’s forehead, it didn’t go unnoticed by a certain someone. He was a snake, silently slithering close to his prey.

Padishah Emperor Shaddam and his daughter Princess Irulan were announced and slowly entered the room, everyone bowed. They took their seats and Emperor greeted everyone, thanked them for coming to his feast and he also announced that he would choose the life partner of his daughter among his unmarried male guests. Duke Leto found himself watching his daughter with sad eyes, he wondered if he could see her wedding one day. Would she be happy and fortunate like him? Only time would tell but he prayed quietly.

It was time to dance, couples held each others’ hands and marched to the dance floor, Paul excused himself and went to ask the princess to dance with him. Leto happily asked Jessica to dance with him, Y/N wished that they were officially married but to keep his position as a powerful bachelor, other houses worked for him hoping that one day Duke Leto would marry one of their daughters. It was a well played game of chess on Atreides’s part. Y/N watched Irulan and Paul talking silently and dancing.

Soon Pyramus came with a huge smile. He kissed her hand and winked at her, ‘’My beautiful lady, would you be so kind and accompany me on the dance floor?’’ she tried so hard not to grin, ‘’Of course my lord.’’ He was in his house’s color, yellow. Hand in hand they mingled among the other couples, ‘’I’ve missed you.’’ He whispered. ‘’Not here.’’ She used the voice on him and his mouth closed in a second. Only their eyes talked.

They heard a rough cough and turned to face the intruder, Y/N had no idea that she would meet him in flesh and blood, ‘’Feyd…’’

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albertasunrise · 3 months ago

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Work Wife - Five

Masterlist

Summary: Working as a Secretary at Miller & Sons Construction, you fall hopelessly in love with the eldest son Joel. What you don’t realise is that Joel’s completely in love with you too. What will it take for the two of you to realise whats’s right in front of you?

Pairing: Young Joel Miller x Reader

Warnings: Like AO3, I choose not to give any so the plot isn’t spoiled. This fic is 18+ (So… I decided I couldn’t leave this fic the way I had, before buggering off for a week… finished my book and had some time to kill in the evenings so managed to get this written 🥹… I do wanna give one warning for this particular chapter… If anyone is triggered by anything pregnancy related, read at your own risk. I apologise in advance, this chapter is pretty heavy but it will all come together I promise ♥️)

Series Masterlist - One Two Three Four

“You said yes?” Joel asked, frowning when you nodded in reply.

“Why?”

“Because we’re having a baby Joel!” You growled back

“Do you love him?”

“No, but-”

“So you’ll marry a man you don’t love because he knocked you up but won’t be with me?” He spat “You claim to be in love with me and I told you I’m in love with you but you decided that we’re no good for each other and carried on your casual relationship with Ant. Now you’re pregnant and marrying him?”

“Joel-“

“You never even gave us a chance.” He choked, hurt saturating his tone. “You never gave me a chance to fight for us.”

“We’re not good for each other Joel!” You argued and he let out an exasperated sigh as he ran his hand through his hair for what must have been the hundredth time that evening.

“How do you know?” he growled. “When we’re together, we are amazing! We make each other laugh and smile, and Sarah adores you… I know you love her.”

“It’s not that simple Joel.” You choked “I’m pregnant with another man's child!”

“And I will love it as if it were my own!” He argued, “If you give me a chance I will love you and that baby with every fibre of my being.”

“What about Ant?”

“Does he love you?” Joel asked and you shook your head.

“I don’t think so.”

“So you’re both willing to spend the rest of your lives in a loveless marriage, just because he got you pregnant?” Joel’s statement made you pause.

He was right. It wasn’t fair to either of you. Ant deserved to spend his life with a woman he loved and you deserved to marry the man of your dreams. Yet there was a baby to think about now.

“I’ll need to talk to Ant about this.” You stated plainly and Joel nodded.

“That’s all I ask.”

You both sat in a tense sort of silence for a while. Neither of you knew what to say. Joel watched you as you hugged yourself tighter, resting your chin on your knees.

“Are you happy?” He asked and you looked at him with a quizzical expression “About the baby?”

“I guess.” You replied with a shrug “I’ve always wanted to be a mum but I had hoped I’d be married first. Maybe a little older.” You paused, looking away again and fixing your gaze on something Joel couldn’t see “With the man I love.” You said quietly as silent tears started to slip down your cheeks.

“You were there for me when Sarah was thrust into my life.” He said as he stood up and made his way over to you, sitting down and pulling you into his arms “I will be here for you too! We’ll get through this together.”

“Really?” You asked, looking up at him through your lashes.

“I promise.”

You smiled at him, gave him a slight nod then rested your head on his chest. Soaking in the solid, calming presence of him.

“I’m scared Joel.” You choked, snuggling in closer to him.

“I know sweetheart.” He said softly as he placed a tender kiss on the crown of your head “But everything is gonna be okay.”

…

You didn’t go to the aquarium with Joel, but he wasn’t all that surprised. Come Monday morning you were back at your desk and putting on a brave face. Joel had promised not to mention the baby to anyone for the time being.

“I’m not going to marry Ant.” You informed him over lunch that afternoon.

“No?”

“You were right.” You confessed as you steeped your peppermint teabag in the mug in your hands, dunking the teabag in and out of the boiling water “We don’t love each other and it would be wrong to trap each other in a loveless marriage. Not fair on us or the baby.”

Joel nodded but didn’t say anything.

“He wants to be involved though. We’re going to try and work out a schedule once the baby’s arrived.”

“It’s great that he wants to be involved.” Joel piped up and you nodded and smiled in agreement.

“It’s not the way either of us wanted this to happen but there’s a baby’s coming and we’re going to love them all the same.”

“Of course you will.” Joel beamed, giving you a warm smile.

“There was something I wanted to ask you.” You confessed after a short pause.

“Shoot.”

“I booked an ultrasound. It's in a month and wondered if you would come with me?” You asked shyly, looking up at Joel through your lashes.

“Can’t Ant go?”

“He’ll be back at College by then so won’t be able to get back for it.” You answered nervously “I get it if you don’t want to come but I just thought-“

“Of course, I will come with you.” Joel stopped your rambling, placing a hand on yours “We’re in this together remember?”

“I remember.” You choked and he smiled sweetly at you.

“How far along will you be by then?” He asked and you gave him a sheepish look as you answered.

“Around 13 weeks.”

“So he knocked you up…”

“The night we went for drinks, yeah.” You confessed.

“We were a bit drunk and, apparently, not very careful.”

“Pip-“

“I know what you’re gonna say Joel and you’re right but in my defence… I was cut up over Simon and I was just looking for some meaningless rebound sex.”

“Hey, I’m not exactly one to judge.” Joel chuckled “Didn’t even know I’d gotten Eliza pregnant!”

“Was wrong of her to keep that from you.”

“It was.” He agreed “But she gave me Sarah and I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

“She’s a pretty special girl.”

“That she is.” He agreed with a grin.

“Thank you, Joel.”

“For what?” He asked with a confused smile.

“For everything.” You replied with a shrug “For talking me out of marrying a man I don’t love… for helping me keep my head.”

“You did the same for me.”

“Yeah but… I’ve made a lot of dumb fucking decisions lately. After the breakup with Simon, confessing my feelings to you and finding out you had a baby… I just kinda lost sight of shit for a while.”

“I haven’t exactly made stellar decisions either.”

“Well no but… despite me pushing you away, you’ve stuck by me and I… I’m just really glad you’re in my life.”

“I always will be.” He assured you, leaning forward in his chair “No matter what happens between us. I will always be here.”

You gave him a tearful nod and a small smile. Glad of your tea occupy your shaky hands. Things were scary and uncertain but you felt confident that Joel would stick by you no matter what and that in turn, made you wonder if not being together was the right decision after all.

…

You were just finishing giving Sarah her bottle when Joel emerged with two plates piled high with slices of pepperoni pizza.

“My hero.” You cooed at Sarah and you popped her over your shoulder and rubbed her back to coax out the burp you knew would follow. It had taken a few tries to find the best way to pull them out of her but after trying out many different techniques; back rubbing came out on top.

“How’s the sickness?” He asked as he placed your plate down on the table beside you.

“It’s, basically, completely disappeared.” You replied, “Thought it usually went on longer but I guess it can ease off sooner.”

“Have you spoken to your OB about it?”

Joel asked, trying to hide his concern at the fact your symptoms seemed to have vanished. Your scan was in a few days and you were a mixture of excited and terrified.

“I haven’t. Not had any concerning symptoms so I’m sure everything is okay.”

Joel nodded, giving you a small smile before you returned your attention to Sarah who was kicking and stomping away in her rocker you’d just placed her in.

“I am convinced she’s trying to march somewhere.” You chuckled as you placed her bottle down and picked up a slice of pizza.

“As soon as she’s able to walk we’re going to be in big trouble.’ Joel chuckled, not noticing how you had tensed at the word ‘we’.

You hadn’t spoken about the potential relationship that Joel and laid on the table a month ago. You had decided it was probably best to focus on the baby for the time being and perhaps revisit the conversation once you knew all was well.

Joel had already started to talk about how Sarah would react to a little brother or sister, and it both warmed you and terrified you in equal measure. You were thrilled to know that if you and Joel did decide to pursue a relationship with each other, he was all in with this baby. It also scared you how ready he was to take on another man's child. Would he change his mind further down the line?

He and Ant looked nothing alike which meant that when this baby was born, it wasn't going to look anything like him. Would he decide then that he didn't want to raise a child that wasn't his? You knew these thoughts were unreasonable. Joel was probably more excited about this baby than you were.

But...

That didn't stop the nagging voice in the back of your mind that told you that this man was too good to be true. Despite knowing him for several years and seeing how perfect he truly was, your hormones wanted to scare you… plant doubt in your heart.

"You're thinkin' loudly." Joel chuckled, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Just got a lot on my mind is all." You confessed. It wasn't a complete lie.

You and Ant had been speaking on the phone about him potentially moving in for a few months after the baby was born so that he could help. You knew Joel would hate that idea but you wanted to be fair to Ant. This was his baby just as much as it was yours and if he wanted to be there to help with night feeds and nappy changes then you were willing to let him.

"Wanna share with the class?" He asked and you shrugged in reply "You don't have to tell me." He said then before picking up another slice of pizza "Just know that I am here to listen. Whatever you wanna talk about."

"I know Joel." You replied with a small smile.

Sarah's screeching pulled your and Joel's attention back to her. She was grinning at the two of you and you felt like the girl knew that you loved each other. You pictured her doting over the baby growing inside of you. She'd be coming up to her first birthday by the time your little one was born. It was exciting to think about how they would grow up together. Perhaps Joel would build them a castle in the backyard so they can play and explore and expand their imaginations. When you thought about that future you saw it with Joel by your side. Perhaps a few years down the line, you may have a baby of your own. When Sarah and this little bean were a little older. It was a nice mental picture.

One that the more you thought about it, the more you yearned for it.

Perhaps it was time to revisit that conversation with Joel. He hadn't pushed you for anything. He was patient and supportive but you know it must be killing him, desperate to know how you felt about him. So you decided then and there that after your scan you would have that conversation with him. He deserved to have his mind put at ease. It was the least you could do for him.

...

Joel drove you to your appointment, his old rock playing through the speakers as Austin's streets shot past the window.

"Ant asked if he could move in with me after the baby's born." You piped up, unsure why you were bringing it up now.

"Oh?"

"It will be purely platonic." You assured him "He just wants to be there to help for the first few months. Take some of the load off."

"That seems fair."

"He's the baby's father and I feel like he deserves to be there."

"You're right." Joel's answer surprised you and you looked at him in shock, your mouth flapping as you tried to figure out what to say "If the wind changes your face'll stay like that." Joel chuckled, pulling you from your shocked state.

"You're not angry at the idea?"

"Why would I be?" Joel seemed genuinely confused.

"Just thought... Well, I assumed that you'd hate the idea."

"I get it." Joel replied, "I know if I was in his shoes with Sarah I would have wanted that option."

"So you're okay with it?"

"Do I have any right not to be?" He asked and you shrugged.

"Guess not."

"Look, we haven't made any promises to each other. Sure I hope that further down the line we might talk about us again but I understand that you have bigger things to worry about right now."

"Yeah?" You asked and he nodded.

"I will be waiting for when you're ready Pip." He stated with a smile that made your heart race "No pressure from me."

...

You were nervous as you sat in the waiting room and waited for your name to be called. Joel was a calming presence beside you. His hand holding yours and his arm resting gently against yours acting as an anchor, keeping you rooted in the choppy ocean of your mind. When your name was called you looked up at the nurse and smiled, giving her a shy wave and standing up, Joel's hand staying firmly in yours as you followed her into the examination room.

You were so nervous.

Up until this point, the only evidence you had that you were pregnant was the four pregnancy tests that you had taken. All firmly confirming that you were pregnant. You had felt foolish that you had failed to notice that you had missed a period but you had been so caught up in this whirlwind relationship with Ant that you had thought nothing of it. Now you were living with those consequences.

"So is this dad?" The nurse asked as she prepped the machine, pulling out the equipment she needed to perform the procedure.

"Just a friend." Joel replied, giving your hand a friendly squeeze.

"The father is back at College for his final year so Joel kindly came with me today." You said, "Baby wasn't exactly planned." You confessed sheepishly, pulling a chuckle from the nurse.

"They hardly ever are these days." She stated and that relaxed you. Glad that there was no judgment of your situation.

"Father to an unplanned baby, sitting right here so I can attest to that." Joel chuckled and you smiled brightly at him.

"Right well, the gel might feel a little cold so sorry in advance." She said sweetly "If you could lift your shirt and pull your trousers down a little."

You did as she bid and let out a shaky breath as you waited for her to start the examination. Holding Joel's hand tightly, you looked only at him and not the screen.

There was silence for some time. The probe slid around your pelvis, digging in at points for her, you assumed, to get a better look at your baby. When Joel's expression grew concerned, you looked over at the nurse and noted that her expression wasn't so jovial anymore.

"Are they okay?" You asked as your heart leapt into your throat.

The nurse gave you a tight smile as she said "I just need to fetch a doctor a moment."

"Why do you need a doctor?" You push and she shakes her head.

"I just want to get a second opinion before we confirm anything.

"What the fucks going on?" Joel growled and you squeezed his hand tighter, rolling your head and locking his eyes with your tearful ones.

"Just a moment." The nurse repeated as she got up from her seat and walked from the room.

It felt like an eternity before she returned with a female doctor in tow.

"I'm Doctor Sims." She said sweetly "Nurse Roberts has asked me to take a look at baby if thats okay?"

You nodded then watched as she took up the nurse's seat and resumed the examination. Hers taking a lot less time than the first. You could see it in her eyes.

It wasn't good news.

"I am so sorry to inform you that there is no heartbeat." The doctor confirmed and your heart shattered "From these scans, it appears that they stopped developing after around 8 or 9 weeks."

Around the time your morning sickness disappeared.

"We call this a silent miscarriage." The doctor continued "It's when the embryo or fetus dies but the body doesn't expel them."

A tight silence fell over the room for a while whilst you processed what the doctor was telling you. Your baby was dead.

The life you were growing that you had just started to get your head around was no longer thriving in your womb. The life you had imagined with Joel and Sarah had disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"What happens now?" Joel asked, knowing you wouldn't have the strength to ask.

"We need to give you a pill to expel the embryo." The doctor answered, trying to keep things brief upon seeing how you were silently falling apart on the examination table "To ensure we don't risk infection, we need to do this as soon as possible.

Joel nodded, squeezing your hand and dragging your gaze away from the lifeless shape on the screen.

"Pip?" He said softly and finally, you looked at him, your body numb.

"Do whatever you need to do." You said, your eyes empty of the sparkle that had been there when you first entered this room.

Joel pulled a blanket over your sleeping form and placed a soft kiss on your temple. After giving your permission to tell his mum what had happened, the woman offered to stay with Sarah so that he could take care of you. You stirred a little as he perched on the edge of your couch and rubbed your back affectionately.

"Will you tell him?" You asked.

"Tell who?"

"Will you tell Ant for me?" You clarified and Joel nodded in understanding.

"Anything you need." He replied as he leaned down to kiss you again.

He watched as you dosed off again. Placing his hand on your arm and giving it a few affectionate strokes with his thumb before standing and making his way to the kitchen.

Ant's number was stuck above your phone so Joel dialled it and waited for the man to answer, his stomach in knots. He didn't want to do this but he knew he needed to for you. He would tear himself apart if it made you feel even the slightest bit better at this moment in time.

"Hello?" Ant's familiar Texan drawl floated into his ear.

"Ant it's uh... It's Joel." He replied, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Hi man, what's up?" He asked, saying your name followed by "Is she okay?"

"No... she's uh... No, she's not." Joel confessed as he rested his brow against the wall beside the phone.

"What happened?" Ant's tone was definitely panicked and Joel felt sick at what he had to say next. What he had to tell this man who until this morning, he kinda hated.

"We went to the scan this morning and... Shit I'm so sorry to tell you this man but there was no heartbeat." Joel choked on those last few words.

"What?"

"Doc said the baby stopped developing." Joel explained, his voice now shaking as he told this man about how his baby was gone "They had to give her a pill to expel it so she's bleeding a lot right now."

"Is she going to be okay?"

"She'll be fine." Joel confirmed, hoping to put the man's mind at ease a little "Apparently it's common before 12 weeks." he didn't know if that brought Ant any comfort. It certainly hadn't brought you any.

"So I'm not going to be a dad?" Joel knew it was rhetorical.

"I'm so sorry man." He hoped his sincerity came across, but he was. His heart was breaking for them both.

"So am I." Ant replied, sniffing wetly before saying "Thanks for letting me know man..."

"Of course."

"Take care of her."

"Always."

Ant hung up after that. Placing the phone on its cradle he crept into the lounge and noted that you had fallen asleep again. Your cheeks and nose were raw from crying and your hair a mess as you'd tore at it earlier. All the emotions you'd not had a chance to feel coming down crashing all at once.

He wasn't sure how things were going to be. Whether you would want him or Sarah around after this. His baby would serve as a reminder of what you had lost. He wouldn't blame you if you pushed him away.

But he wasn't going to let you grieve alone.

You were in this together no matter what the outcome. He was going to get you out the other side no matter what the cost.

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whoistartaglia · 1 year ago

Note

not necessarily a request but in response to your “i’ll save you a seat” post, i’d like to imagine scenerios where you (reader) gets to the door before xiao and open it and he just—malfuctions—error error!! and he silently closes the door infront of you only to open it again for you!! maybe this even turns into some strange competition where you and xiao fight to open the door for one another lol (xiao will always win because he just closes the door again and then opens it)

ANON DKSOEMLSLS I DIDNT EVEN THINK OF THIS BUT HE TOTALLY WOULD

spiritual successor to this (i suggest reading first)

as for the rest of them…

wanderer puts his hand over the edge of the table only to accidentally smack you in the head. hey, it’s not his fault! at least, that’s what he tells you when you’re rubbing the welt on your forehead. you bent down so suddently that he had no choice to move quickly. should you mention that he probably did more harm than the table, he’ll grumble that he would have picked whatever you dropped up for you.

diluc double flips over your pillow. you left to get up, he flipped it over as a sleeping diluc does and then he does it. again. maybe he was extra tired or thought you got up again. to be honest, you didn’t really know of this habit of his until the mistake. you come back to a warm pillow and snoring diluc, and turn it over yourself. this may or not may wake up diluc, and he may or may not flip it over onto the warm side yet again.

kaveh reminds you if you have everything but he should honestly save a reminder for himself. once or twice or three times he’s left the house without his keys, his work, his shoes (that was a strange occasion and he still didn’t realize for a solid ten minutes). you’ll have everything you need to get through the day, but kaveh will have to make a pit stop back at the house to pick up his own forgotten items.

childe makes you too many snacks at once. when he brought over the first one, you thanked him with a genuine smile. the second time, you still had some of the first snack left, but thanked him anyways. the third time you got a little concerned; the fourth… well, you at least finished the first snack by now. you have to tell him that it’s okay! you don’t need a fifth right now! (he already has it ready to go—you’ll find him eating it alone in the kitchen).

zhongli goes into debt. listen, he’s still getting used to this whole mortal thing, and honestly, not having access to infinite mora definitely blows. he’ll find some gift he absolutely must buy for you only to realize he has only one golden coin left on him. later that night, he’ll still give you that gift, and if his smile looks somewhat strained, it’s because he had to get a certain someone to pay for it.

kaeya’s brain kind of short stops when he sees you get to the tavern before him. oh, you’re already sitting down, look at that. that’s fine and all, he wants to be the one to save you a seat. so you’ll look over when kaeya still hasn’t joined you and find him sitting at another table alone. that’s strange, what’s he doing there? you walk over to him and he pulls out the chair for you, and so your seat for the night as once again been saved.

alhaitham will get annoyed if you fall asleep during a good part of the story. like, yeah, that’s point of him reading to you but, really, did you have to fall asleep during the best part? he has two options: gently shake you awake to finish the chapter, or let you sleep like intended. his choice will depend on what book he’s reading, but if he wakes you because it’s a research paper and you just got to the oh-so important findings, feel free to take the paper of his hands, drop it on the floor, and go back to sleep. he can continue in the morning.

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whisper-in-the-night · 5 months ago

Text

Undesirable

Plot: Thomas is omega who will never find his true mate. Or no?

Warnings: omegavers; deviation from the canon; omega!Thomas Hewitt, alpha!male!reader / Y/N; mention of murdering, cannibalism, blood, little angst.

Note: hey everyone. I finally finished this chapter :) Thanks for reading this, don't forget to eat properly and drink water, love ya

•••

Part 4 || Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

After a while, you got along quite well with this unusual family. At first it was a little difficult, they had their own rules in household management and home life, but you quickly adapted to this and began to help. It was good for the family that another strong man appeared in the house, which greatly facilitated Thomas's life.

Besides, you were still working. Early in the morning you left for another city, and in the evening you returned, even brought groceries with you, for which Luda was immensely grateful to you, considering that her shop did not pay off much. The meat in this family really bothered you, because you had never eaten such a slightly bitter and tough meat, but you put it down to unsuitable storage conditions, after all, it was always hot during the day, and even the darkened cabinets did not create cold meat. You offered your family to buy meat as well, but no one supported your idea. It's probably a matter of habit.

And yet, you decided to try cooking with this meat. One evening, you made something like a quick marinade for meat from apples and garlic that you bought earlier after work, and left the meat like that until the next dinner. In the evening, you used your favorite seasonings and cooked a very tasty soup. It was the easiest and fastest dish, and you knew how to cook it well. And the whole family really liked your culinary skills. Especially for Hoyt, who is tired of eating solid hard meat and small potatoes in broth. The meat has softened a little, and the apples have removed this strange bitterness. In general, you have found a solution to the problem, for the most part. Luda also appreciated that there was another person in the family who could literally feed the family, so now it was your unspoken duty. And you were only there once to help this tired woman.

You've become very close to Thomas. He turned out to be a very nice and kind person. Just a giant with a kind heart. Something about him made your heart beat faster every time. Maybe it's his skillful hands, able to sew various little things, if necessary. Or maybe it's his strength: this man is able to lift you up in the blink of an eye with one hand and not even sweat. Although he was mute, you were still able to find a language of communication. Body language, head shaking, or facial expressions on the exposed part of his face. You mentally cursed yourself for giving up extracurricular sign language lessons at a young age. And yet, little by little, Thomas taught you sign language himself, which made communication much easier. Other family members wondered how you could understand each other so easily. It made you very angry when Hoyt treated Tommy like some dumb dog. On days like these, Thomas would come to your bedroom late at night, he knew you were still awake. Already clean after a hard day (you taught him the basics of hygiene, it just didn't make sense for the guy to follow them very much before), he lay his head on your lap, and you gently fingered his dark wet stripes. You could have sworn Thomas was making a little purr. There was a slight sweet scent of peaches in the room, which you liked so much now. Who would have thought that this big guy was an omega? You thanked yourself for your foresight and for having drunk your dose of suppressants earlier in the day. This man was too cute. He even started you.. Do you like it? Maybe. Before that, you weren't particularly attracted to representatives of both the opposite and your own sex. As a child, when you were still in elementary school, relatives often asked if you liked any 'bride', pointing to pictures of girls in a shared photo. You just shrugged your shoulders. Were you wrong? Is it bad that you don't like anyone? Then why did your heart yearn tenderly at the sight of this big boy?

Thomas wandered absently up the stairs, loosening the ropes of his work apron along the way. He was tired. All those screams and screams of the victims, and then Hoyt's complaints about his sluggishness and slowness. The man hastily took a shower and changed his work clothes for more comfortable ones: a loose short-sleeve shirt and light sleeping shorts. His feet were already automatically leading him to the cherished room. The click of a door handle and the creak of an old door. He climbed onto your lap and let out a relaxed sigh. My head was buzzing with unpleasant thoughts. All he wanted was to melt into your arms. Your hips were soft and comfortable, his personal pillow to rest on. Your gentle, strong fingers immediately found their way to his hair, massaging his skin. His hair was a little unpleasantly tangled, and small drops of water dripping from his dark hair soaked the fabric of your clothes. But you didn't seem to mind. You were humming softly to yourself, and it caused Thomas a strange pleasure in his chest. No one had ever been so kind to him. But that will surely change if you see his real face under the mask, won't it? This is only a temporary pleasure and peace of mind, when you see his real one, you will definitely want to leave him. Closing his eyes, Tommy instinctively leaned towards your touch, relaxing with his eyes closed. It was good. You're so gentle and caring. You always meet him with a warm dinner after work, bring him sweets, give him a massage and comb his hair. Thomas liked it, very much. You were so good, like he.. liked you.

When you finished helping Luda with cooking dinner, you wiped your hands with a towel, listening to the sounds in the house. Hoyt and Monty went somewhere not so long ago, before handing out 'tasks' to all the remaining household members. You smiled while watching Luda work. In the last three weeks, she's become like a real mother to you.

"Mom, where's Thomas?" You asked with a slight smile. You liked to address her that way, and the woman herself didn't seem to mind, on the contrary, she was glad to have another child in her house.

"Tommy is sorting things out in the barn, dear. Go and tell him that dinner is coming soon, okay?"

You nodded curtly and left the house. The sun was baking, shining unpleasantly into my eyes. Beads of sweat instantly appeared on your forehead, which you hastened to remove with the back of your hand. It's been even hotter than usual lately. Although the nights were cool. And yet, this did not cancel out the heat of the day, which burned the lungs unpleasantly.

The wooden door of the barn creaked open, unpleasantly jarring to the ear. It was dusty and hot inside. There was dust and old hay everywhere, in some places you could see old parts from disassembled cars, and somewhere there were children's things, as you assumed, that belonged to Thomas.

The man was standing almost in the middle of the barn and sorting out old boxes. His dark hair was tied carelessly in a ponytail, and his shirt had been taken off and was lying on one of the old shelves, so now you had a view of Tommy's muscular chest and his beautiful ass. Strong muscles flexed beautifully under his tanned skin with every movement.

You slowly approached the man from behind, putting your hand on his hip, and pulled him towards you, attracting attention. Your nose is filled with the smell of sweat mixed with a little dust and the already favorite peach sensation on your lips. Your mouth curled into a grin when Thomas turned in your direction.

"Hey, handsome," you said softly, enticing Thomas's lips into a wet, clumsy kiss. It was hard to kiss his bitten lips through the mask, but you didn't complain. After a couple of minutes, the man let out a light sigh and closed his eyes, awkwardly responding to the kiss. You've already kissed a few times, but he still didn't do very well. Thomas's hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him as he turned around in your arms. He backed away and sat down on one of the boxes, pulling you onto his lap. This guy was too fond of using his size. You wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your fingers in his damp, night-black hair. Finally breaking away from the sweet lips of your lover, you smiled. "Mom asked me to said to you that dinner is ready, y'know." Thomas muttered something indistinctly, but nodded, squeezing your hips in his hands. You could have sworn that something big was pressed against your body.

•••

And yet, you had a strange feeling. On the first day of your arrival here, you were going to go back to Luda's store to take that boy and his friends to the city they needed, but Hoyt immediately stopped you, saying that when he returned home, no guys were there. It seemed strange to you, because there was hardly frequent transport in this place. Although, perhaps some friend picked them up?

Sometimes you heard strange sounds, it seems, from the basement. It's like a dog whining or even gnashing. You tried not to make a big deal out of it, but the sound was getting too intrusive. It got on your nerves.

Nothing bad will happen if you just check on the poor animal, right?

The night was quite bright, the full moon shone brightly in the starry sky, reflecting on the screen of your phone. In only pajama pants and a light shirt, you slowly descended to the first floor, trying not to wake anyone from home. The floor creaked unpleasantly underfoot, but no one in the house seemed to hear it. Your hand was on the cold cellar door. A high-pitched squeak filled your ears, causing your body to shrink in slight fear. Goosebumps ran down my spine. You shone your flashlight on the stone steps, which were flooded with water for a couple of inches.

Step.

Plop.

Your feet touched the cold water, and you let out a soft sigh. It wasn't so hot at night to enjoy this coolness. You slowly picked up the phone, shining your flashlight on the walls. The basement was damp and dirty, smelled of dust and the acrid smell of metal. The light from your phone was slowly sliding along the stone walls. There were a lot of tools, meat hooks and other things.

A chill ran down your spine.

You pointed the flashlight at the center of the room, and your stomach clenched. On a table in the center of the basement lay something that looked like a man. An almost gnawed skeleton without a pair of limbs and with a bald spot in some places on the head. Long dirty hair was lying on the table, and the body was covered with dirt, blood and something else. The eyes were missing, as were the internal organs under the ribs. It was.. creepy.

Clang.

You jumped slightly, pointing the flashlight in the opposite direction from the table. God. There, against the wall, in a pile of boxes.. the boy you were driving was sitting there. His face was disfigured and his jaw was visibly broken. His leg was amputated to the knee, and there were strange stitches on the side. He looked very pale and weak, scared. His broken mouth made whining noises, but it seemed that he had already resigned himself to his fate.

You slowly stepped back. Your gaze darted between the poor half-dead boy and the body on the table. There wasn't so much meat, it looked like they were being eate-

Your stomach clenched painfully, and your throat burned. Your entire dinner immediately ended up on one of the stone steps. Suddenly it became so difficult and painful to breathe, it seemed that your heart was tearing in your chest. It hurts, it hurts so much, like it's beating in your head. Panic has gripped your mind. Did you live in a cannibal house?

Your movements were fast. You ran out of the basement without even bothering to close the door behind you, and grabbed your car keys from the housekeeper in the hallway. The front door slammed hard, and you could hear the grumbling in the house. The lights started to turn on immediately. You quickly reached the car, inserting the key into the ignition with shaking hands. My eyes burned, but there were no tears. It seemed like a primal fear for your own life filled your body, wanting every breath to be very painful.

Finally, the car started up, and you jerked the steering wheel sharply, pulling out to the road.

You drove as fast as you could. The heart was beating wildly in your chest, forcing you to turn around so that there would be no pursuers behind you. You would have been eaten too, wouldn't you? Where should you go now? Home? Police? You gripped the steering wheel harder, trying to bring yourself to your senses. God...

•••

"Fuck, I knew that! I knew that this boy was just like them! What should we do now? He's gonna tell the cops!" Hoyt screamed, clutching his gray hair with his fingers.

Thomas stared absently after the departing car. Hoyt was growling menacingly behind him, but the man didn't care. He was.. sadly. Painfully. My heart screamed unpleasantly, watching you drive away without even telling him yet. Did he do something wrong? Or did you know that boy? Did you love that boy? His heart ached uncomfortably at the very thought of it. He clenched his hands into fists, his nails leaving red crescents on his palms.

#slashers x reader #thomas hewitt x male reader #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x you #slashers x male reader #slashers x you #slasher x you #slasher x reader #thomas brown hewitt imagine #thomas hewitt imagine

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supernovafics · 6 months ago

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of alcohol/drinking, pining, a little angst

summary: steve meets you at eddie’s show and even though you’re feeling a little weird and nervous about what you two are doing, you ultimately decide that there’s a first time for everything

CHAPTER THREE | ❝𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒂𝒊𝒅❞

Fall Semester 2015

Eddie was good. Like, really good.

So good that you had to keep reminding yourself to not ogle at his hands on the guitar, seamlessly moving from chord to chord, or focus too hard on the almost too pretty sound of his voice.

You silently wondered— as he and his band finished out the last few moments of the song they were rehearsing— if you would be feeling this way as you watched him practice if you didn’t have the biggest crush on him. Or maybe this would’ve ended up being the moment you realized everything, instead of that moment happening in his dorm room just a few weeks ago.

You still hadn’t decided how to tell him, you also still weren’t sure if you even wanted to tell him at all. If you said something and he didn’t feel the same way, you had a feeling that it would mess everything up between you and him, and ultimately ruin this friendship that felt so important to you.

Therefore, you were leaning more toward never telling him how you felt, or at least waiting for the perfect moment to do so. However, you didn’t know what would necessarily deem a moment as “perfect.” Maybe one day it would just feel right to finally utter the words to him? You weren’t entirely sure.

For the time being, you pushed those confusing thoughts to the side, and in this moment you simply focused on the final notes of the song being played out, marking its end, and then Eddie placing his guitar down.

“You guys are really good,” You said from where you sat barely five feet away because of how small the garage was; you couldn’t remember if this was Gareth’s place, Jeff’s, or Doug’s. “Like, really, really good. It’s actually kind of insane.”

Eddie smiled at you. “I think you’re our number one fan now.”

“I feel honored to hold that title.”

He walked over to where you were sitting. “You wanna come with me to get the pizza?”

His question was one that you didn’t need to outwardly respond to because the answer was obvious. You simply nodded as you stood up from your chair and walked with him to his van.

You’d go anywhere with Eddie— and that fact was the main reason why you were currently spending your Saturday in his hometown two hours away from your guys’ college, instead of holed up in the library studying for midterms.

“I think I get it,” You said, gazing out the window as he drove and watching the small empty fields and random houses pass by in a blur.

“Get what?”

“Why you wanted to leave here,” You answered, turning to look at him even though his eyes were focused on the road. “It’s so small and quiet. I honestly can’t even imagine you growing up here.”

“There was a record store across town that I really loved, and it was probably the only thing that kept me sane growing up,” He briefly explained and you nodded. “And my uncle. And the guys too. We’ve been doing the whole band thing since middle school.”

The thought of an eleven year old Eddie singing and playing guitar sounded quite adorable to you.

“That’s so cute.”

Eddie laughed. “Cute was not what we were going for.”

“Sorry, what I meant to say was, that’s so cool and rock ‘n roll.”

“Solid save.”

“Thank you.”

“You have to take me to your hometown next,” He said, taking a brief look over at you as he kept driving.

You shook your head. “Definitely not gonna happen, and not just because we’d have to take a two hour plane ride to get there.”

“Come on, I brought you here.”

Just for a second, you let yourself think about the suburban town you grew up in states away; a town that you also couldn’t wait to get out of because, just like Eddie’s, it felt way too quiet and small. You tried to briefly imagine him walking down the streets you used to walk to get to school or the park that you had liked to spend most of your free time at reading, but you couldn’t see it. You could barely even see yourself doing any of that anymore.

“This is different. You want to come here,” You told him. “Aside from my parents, and that’s only sometimes, there’s nothing that makes me wanna go back to my hometown.”

You tried your hardest not to think about how actually saying that out loud made you feel a little sad.

“So, no band with old friends that makes you wanna go back most weekends?” Eddie asked, purposefully trying to lighten the mood, which you were grateful for.

You gave him a small smile. “Nope, none of that.”

That was why you liked him, he read you well and knew the right moments to shift any conversation.

There was a part of you that wanted to just admit to him how you felt right there in his van. Let the words leave your lips and simply see what would happen.

But then he was pulling into the parking lot of the pizza place and the moment felt effectively over. And a part of you was glad for that.

It wasn’t that difficult to pretend that nothing had changed for you and that you still only saw him as your best friend. You honestly found pretending to be the easiest thing to do.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

“Robin just texted me saying, “Tell Eds I’m there in spirit. When in actuality my spirit is dead because this essay is killing me.” So yeah, she’s not coming tonight.”

“Damn, so that means I won’t hear her overenthusiastic “woo’s” after we finish every song.”

You playfully smiled at Eddie. “I can take over that job for the night if you want.”

“That would be great,” He responded, smiling back. “We need to prove that we have at least one excited fan.”

“Okay, then I’ll make sure to take my job as your number one fan very seriously tonight,” You told him before taking a sip from your drink and then placing it back atop the high wooden table you two were standing on opposite sides of that was a bit wobbly. “I swear we always somehow end up at this specific table.”

“Either that, or they’re all fucked up.”

“True,” You said and nodded, but you had a feeling that it was probably the same one because you and everyone always ended up occupying the same cluster of tables that were to the right of the small stage— a stage that was currently set up because he was performing in less than twenty minutes.

You had shown up with Eddie and the rest of the band an hour earlier; which was pretty much a routine when it came to the biweekly gig Corroded Coffin had here. Aces was one of the few bars in town that was actually not frequented by college kids because they were really strict about their carding policies and could spot a fake ID from a mile away. However, Rick, the owner, loved Eddie and the band, so exceptions were made for them; and by extension you and your other friends too.

You texted Robin back “Your screaming will be missed<3,” and then got a notification for a text from Steve that said, “Just parked.”

“Um, Steve just got here, so I’m gonna go out and grab him.”

“Okay,” Eddie said and then shook his head in what seemed like both disbelief and surprise. “I still can’t believe how good Friday night went for you two.”

“Yeah, I’m surprised too. I didn’t expect this to happen,” You told him, which technically wasn’t that much of a lie. You really hadn’t expected that night to lead to you fake dating Steve barely a day later.

The cold night air immediately hit you when you walked outside, even the jacket you were wearing wasn’t enough to keep you warm, so you crossed your arms over your chest as you waited for Steve. You were suddenly glad that you opted against wearing a skirt tonight and decided to settle on a pair of jeans.

It was a solid three minutes of you looking both ways down the street and waiting for Steve to eventually come into view. And when he finally did, you met him halfway.

“Jesus, how far did you park?”

“Way too far.”

Steve fell into step with you as you walked back to the front door. You noticed him look up at the faded sign that had the bar’s name on it and then it seemed as if he realized or remembered something. “Aren’t they really strict at this place?”

“Yeah, but it’s fine,” You answered with a quick shrug before grabbing his hand to keep him close to you as you walked past the small-ish line of people waiting to get their ID checked and get into the bar. You gave a quick smile to Jacob, the bouncer and also Rick’s brother, who was letting you through with no hesitation. “Thanks, Jacob.”

Steve let out a breath of a laugh once you two were fully inside the small and darkly lit bar. “Okay, that was actually pretty cool.”

You were about to respond to him with some playful joke about how getting into this place both for free and without an ID was probably the coolest thing about you, but then your eyes were on Eddie. He was saying something to the guys as they headed over to the packed bar and then he was left alone at the haphazardly pushed-together tables. Suddenly, you felt nervous and also a bunch of other things that were entirely indecipherable at the moment.

You turned to look at Steve. “Okay, so, um, how thick are we laying it on right now?”

Instead of answering your question, he seemed to sense your nervousness, so he gave your hand that was still holding his a quick squeeze. “Just chill. Don’t worry.”

That honestly didn’t do anything to calm your nerves or make you not worried about what you two were about to do. But, it was also weird because even though you were nervous, you didn’t want to back out of doing it.

“Where is he?” Steve asked.

You simply nodded in the direction of the table Eddie was standing at.

“Okay, come on,” He said and as you two walked over to the table, he readjusted your hands so that they were intertwined, which made holding hands with him feel a thousand times more intimate. And that was probably exactly why he did it, you realized.

“Hey,” He greeted Eddie with a smile.

“Hey, man,” Eddie responded. “Cool seeing you here.”

“Yeah, glad I can finally catch a show.”

You stopped paying attention to what they were saying, and it wasn’t really on purpose, it was just that all you could focus on right then was Steve’s subtle movements— his hand pulling away from yours and him shifting closer to you so that he could drape his arm around your shoulders instead. He was so smooth and easy with it, meanwhile you were contemplating if you seemed too tense or if your face looked uncomfortable.

Maybe some practicing would’ve been good before jumping into the deep end of this whole thing. But, what would practicing have even entailed? Steve holding your hand or keeping his arm around you until you felt completely normal about it? That sounded almost too embarrassingly stupid.

He had done pretty much the same things Friday night on your date— you remembered him holding your hand and wrapping an arm around you during the movie and feeling entirely okay about it; he had even kissed you that night and initially, you had been completely okay before you got too in your head about everything— but this, for obvious reasons, felt entirely different. The point now was to look super into it, and you felt yourself slowly folding under the pressure.

“Did you tell him about game night?”

It took you a second to realize Eddie was talking to you because your mind was in an entirely different place right then. You barely even heard the question he asked you.

“Yeah, she did,” Steve said, saving you. “I’ll be there.”

“Great, we’ll actually have even teams for once,” Eddie said to you.

“Talia’s gonna hate that. She loves being referee,” You responded, finally finding your voice and actually managing to feel the tiniest bit normal for a moment.

“No, she won’t because she’s gonna have the best Pictionary player on her team.”

You rolled your eyes at that because you knew he was referring to himself. “Vickie is the best at Pictionary, actually.”

“Okay. Second best.”

“I think Robin’s second, but you’re definitely third because me and Talia are equally bad at that game.”

“Fine, I’ll take third,” Eddie responded. “Unless Harrington here has a secret talent?”

Steve shook his head. “No, I’m terrible at drawing.”

Eddie smiled at that. “You two will make a great team then.”

“I think our bad drawing skills will cancel each other out and we’ll actually end up being really good,” You said, mostly kidding with your words.

“Or we’ll be worse,” Steve said.

“It’s very sad to see that you have no faith in us,” You joked, looking up at him, and he only laughed in response.

He and Eddie went into talking about an assignment for the class they had together, and you attempted to pay attention to their conversation, but your mind went right back to overthinking everything. You wondered whether or not things looked real or if it all seemed entirely forced and out of place.

Steve was doing pretty much all of the work right then at making this newfound relationship look believable, and your only job was to pretend that you were happy to lean into his touch and to make it seem like you were at least a little enamored by him, which was easier said than done. You were now discovering that acting wasn’t your strong suit.

They continued talking for the next minute or two before Eddie was saying that he needed to head on stage. “I’ll see you guys after.”

You nodded and said a simple “Good luck,” and then he walked away, joining Gareth, Jeff, and Doug on stage. You let out a breath that you didn’t even know you’d been holding.

“You okay?” Steve asked once Eddie was out of earshot. His arm dropped from around you, but he still stayed close. “I know we shook hands on it and everything, but we really don’t have to do this. It’s fine if you wanna back out.”

“No, I’m okay. I just didn’t expect this to feel so weird? I don’t know if that’s the right word, but yeah… I swear I’m fine, though, I’ll get better at,” You briefly gestured between you and him. “This whole thing.”

The last time you were so outwardly physically affectionate with someone was years ago; a high school relationship that ended just as quickly as it had started. You weren’t used to this anymore, and maybe it was dumb to think that it would be easy to do it, especially with someone you didn’t really even know that well.

“We don’t have to do this,” Steve reminded you.

“No, I want to. Honestly,” You assured him, and surprisingly that still felt mostly true.

“When’s game night?”

“Tomorrow,” You answered, forgetting that that had been brought up in the conversation with Eddie. “It’s a once-a-month thing we do at the apartment.”

“Got it,” He said with a nod.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t wanna. It’s mainly just three hours of all of us screaming at each other,” You briefly explained. “That’s the reason why we only do it once a month. Friendships would be ruined if we made it a weekly thing.”

“Sounds deadly.”

“Very much so.”

“Also, sounds fun.”

You let out a laugh. “Didn’t peg you for a masochist, Steven.”

He ignored that. “Do you want me to come tomorrow?”

You took a moment to actually consider his question. Everyone else was gonna have to meet him eventually, especially if you wanted to make it seem like you “really liked him,” so maybe it would be best to just rip off the band-aid and do the introductions sooner rather than later.

“Yeah, I do,” You ultimately answered. “You should come. I think it’ll be good.”

Before he could even say anything in response, the band started playing and every conversation happening in the small bar became drowned out by the music. You bopped your head and softly sang along to the songs you knew, which were pretty much all of them aside from a few new covers they decided to do. And you, of course, loudly applauded and excitedly shouted after every song, just like you told Eddie you would.

“Wow,” Steve said at one point, mouth close to your ear so that you could hear him over the music. “It’s so obvious that you like him. I honestly didn’t think it was possible to witness heart eyes in real life.”

You playfully nudged him. “Shut up.”

You had a feeling that he was mostly joking with his words, but still, you couldn’t help but think, Did it really look that obvious?

You turned to look at Steve and were about to ask him what exactly looked so obvious and how was he so easily able to notice something that Eddie somehow never had.

However, you immediately noticed that his attention was on a girl across the bar who was looking right back at him with a matching smile on her face.

“Keep it in your pants tonight, Harrington,” You told him, elbow bumping his side again. “And until the end of February too.”

“I know. Sorry,” Steve said, looking away from the girl and back at the stage.

“Y’know, I was mostly joking last night when I said that not dating anyone this month would probably be hard for you. But, now seeing that it actually is hard for you, I’m just concerned. There are tons of support groups that you can join to help with this problem,” You said, trying your hardest to keep a straight face as you said your words, but ending up smiling the entire time.

“Ha ha,” He said sarcastically, which only made you smile more.

You focused back on Eddie, listening as he said that he was about to perform what would be the last song of the night. You shouted happily in anticipation and smiled at him when his eyes met yours.

Once again, you couldn’t help but wonder, Was it obvious?

At some point during that final song, Steve placed an arm around you again, and it surprisingly didn’t feel all too weird that time around.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #eddie munson series #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #stranger things series #stranger things fic

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sukunarii · 1 year ago

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Pairing: Sukuna x Reader Warning: (Spoiler from chapter 216!)

Synopsis: (Name) was kidnapped by Yorozu

A/N: It's been a while oops, but I was suddenly inspired to write this fanfic after rereading all the Sukuna scenes. Everything that Sukuna has done lately in the manga and Shibuya in anime coming soon too, no words can express how happy I am 😍😍

“Oh dear, you’ve switched skins? Why don’t you change your face back?”

Sukuna was unamused and ignored her, “Yorozu, where is (Name)?”

“How cruel Sukuna, you’re finally reunited with your future wife after a thousand years and you’re asking about another girl?”, Yorozu taunts back but clearly bitter by the King of Curses’s reaction.

Sukuna was starting to grow impatient, he has no interest in Yorozu’s antics and without a warning, he attacks Yorozu. With his incredible speed, he appears right before her in a split second and lands a solid kick on her torso which sends her flying backwards but she manages to stay on her feet.

“What do you want, Yorozu”, he calls out to her.

Yorozu appears barely affected by the kick and sticks her tongue out, “Bleh, You know what I want. I want to be the one who kills you and I want you to be the one who kills me. This is true love. And if you’re alive after I win, you will let me be your wife.”

“Whatever you want,” Sukuna says, “If I lose that means I am dead and didn’t protect (Name). If that happens it doesn’t matter what you do with a corpse.”

“I heard you say it!” Yorozu’s lips twitches up in an evil smile, “I’ll be your true wife, you will marry me then I will dispose of that annoying girl, maybe cut her up bit by bit and make her unrecognizable later.”

“Later? Do you really think you’ll still be around?”, Sukuna says, rage clearly in his eyes. No one talks about his (Name) like this, especially not to his face. But the King of Curses keeps his composure and despite his anger, a smirk finds its way on his face. Sukuna bends down and makes the hand sign of a dog “Divine dog” he summons.

From the shadows, the shape of multiple dogs takes form and charges towards Yorozu. Yorozu dodges them and tries to counterattack Sukuna but her attack fails to reach him.

“What is this?” Yorozu shouts with anger, “This isn’t your cursed technique! You think you can beat me without Malevolent Shrine?”

“No I won’t use that. I won’t need it,” Sukuna replies.

Yorozu was pissed, “Fine. I will give you (Name).”

Yorozu effortlessly jumps up to the top of a light pole to distance herself from Sukuna. She pulls out a cube from her robe and makes the hand signs to unseal it. Suddenly the cube emits a shadow and (Name) appears. Yorozu holds (Name) by her neck, hanging her mid air and her feet frantically kicks trying to get herself free, “Still not going to use Shrine?”, Yorozu calls out to Sukuna while her grip on (Name)’s neck tightens.

In a quick motion, Sukuna lunges towards Yorozu and punches her but Yorozu jumps off from the light pole while hands still gripping (Name). However, she notices that Sukuna has already summoned Round Deer which is waiting to attack Yorozu from the ground. Swiftly she let’s go of (Name), and the girl screams as she falls. Yorozu sends a wave of attack, aiming it to where (Name) will land to ensure that the girl will be finished.

(Name) closes her eyes, readying herself for the fall but instead, she falls into a warm and familiar embrace.

“(Name), I’m sorry I was late,” Sukuna says.

(Name) opens her eyes to see that she is safe in Sukuna’s arms. However, it seems that the last attack Yorozu sent hit Sukuna as there’s a deep wound on his shoulder, he used himself to shield (Name). But Sukuna was not concerned by it at all.

“You have a cut on your beautiful face,” he says while looking at (Name) and he passes his hands over the cut and uses reverse curse technique to easily heal it up.

“Sukuna, I’m sorry I was careless,” (Name) starts.

“Shhh,” Sukuna shushes her, “Let’s go home.”

Behind them, Yorozu interrupts the couple, clearly jealous, “Where do you think you’re going Sukuna? This fight isn’t over yet. I am going to be your wife, I am going to be the one who will show you what love is. Who is she to you anyways?”

Sukuna doesn’t bother turning back to look at Yorozu. His eyes are fixed on (Name) in his arms, “She is my queen.”

“Haa?”, Yorozu calls out, pissed, “I’m gonna fucking kill her then kill you, I won't allow any mistresses in this marriage,” Yorozu shouts as she charges at them.

Sukuna doesn't seem to care. His attention is already removed from Yorozu. With (Name) still his arms, she is the only person in his world. He has no interest in giving any more of his time to Yorozu.

Sukuna, mumbles, “With this treasure, I summon…”

Mahoraga appears from the shadows and towers in front of Yorozu. "You're gonna use this to finish me off? How dare you Sukuna!" Yorozu shouts at him as she engages in battle with the Shikigami but she is no match for Mahoraga's powers. She screams and pleads while getting defeated by Mahoraga but it all fell to deaf ears.

(Name) still in Sukuna's arms, quietly says “You don't have to carry me Sukuna, I can still walk.”

“My queen should rest,” Sukuna replies and gives her a soft kiss on her forehead, “I’m never letting you go.”

Being the King of Curses, Sukuna has attracted a lot of admirers. But he was indifferent to all of them. The only person he cares about other than himself is (Name), his queen.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #im a little rusty ngl

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whynot-tryit · 1 year ago

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Angel of Small Death: Chapter 1

John Price x female! reader

Summary: Laswell convinces Price to hire a team medic. You spend your first day meeting each one of the men and you take an instant liking to the captain, and he does so too.

Word count: 5,528

Warnings: inaccurate medical stuff, mentions of blood, insomnia, body parts, body touching, lmk if there’s anything I should add.

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“John, in the past six months your team alone has made up almost forty percent of overall med bay visits. I’m not saying your team isn’t fit, I just think you should hire a team medic.”

This isn’t the first time the idea has been brought up to Price during his and Laswell’s debriefings in his office. His hands run over his face, racking through his mutton chops before laying them down on his desk with a grunt of annoyance. “I know you guys can take care of yourselves on base and out there on the field but come on John, you guys need someone. You need someone to help you.”

Price wasn’t fond of asking for help but it was starting to get on his nerves with how much Laswell was bringing this up. “I already said no, Laswell.” His annoyance makes his words come out gruffier than usual. Laswell rolls her eyes and rests her back against the chair posted on the other side of his desk. “How about I choose for you? If you hate them then you’ll never hear me talk about it again.”

The sigh that rolls through Price’s chest is the only sound that radiates through the small room for a couple seconds. He hasn’t had the time to finish the mountain of paperwork on his desk along with the daily training regime for the team, along with all the meetings he’s been dragging his feet to day in and day out. Maybe some help would be nice. Did that mean he was unfit in his role? His eyes come up from the papers on his desk to Laswell’s. Her eyes seem to read his mind and her eyes get softer trying to voice her thoughts.

He was good at his job, getting help wouldn’t be a bad thing, he deserved it. The bags under his eyes and stiff shoulders were a tell tale sign of how much he worked, an extra set of hands wouldn’t be the worst thing.

“Fine. You pick ‘em.”

..............................

You were an experienced medic, having been stationed in multiple locations, saved a multitude of civilians and soldiers. You were proud of your work. Moving around so much, feeling like you were being tugged in one direction to the other was getting quite exhausting. Once the rumor of a job opening as a team medic passed through your small base you hesitated for a small moment, you had no idea what team, where, but you knew it would be good to get some fresh air and maybe to have a new place to find stable ground for a foreseeable amount of time. It took months of rigorous interviews and paperwork but they chose you. Laswell, chose you. You had asked her why the captain of the team didn’t pick you, asking why they weren’t present for any of the interviews if you were going to be working with them. She had only hinted that they seemed to be a close friend of hers who needed the extra hand and didn’t have the time to pick someone themselves, so she was doing them a solid.

You had always liked the idea of helping someone, that's why the idea of being a medic, a doctor, was one you had had since you were a child. One that you worked very hard to make a reality, so the thought that whoever it was that you were going to work for really needed you made you even sounder in the idea of taking the new opportunity.

Duffel bags are still packed and laying on the floor of your new living quarters, hands on your hips and eyes trailing around the four walls, all the way to the small bed and desk. This would have to do. Since the process of getting here had taken so long you wanted to jump right into introductions. You hadn’t heard a single thing about the team, 141. Cute name, you thought.

Unpacking and making the room somewhat livable for your needs was going to have to wait, changing into your scrubs and grabbing the four manilla folders you made your way to the medical wing on base. Laswell had helped you set up one on one meetings with the team so you could go over their medical files. Military medics, especially ones who didn’t work with the team directly and personally were always known to look over things and forget to file symptoms and problems properly so you wanted to make sure you went over some things. You wanted to do your job properly.

First up was Kyle Garrick.

As you walked towards the curtain which separated your little appointment room for your little meet and greets you noticed the feet underneath the small sliver of space made by the floor and the bottom of the curtain. He’s early, 15 minutes early to be exact. That earns a check in your book.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves and reach out a hand to pull the curtain to the side and take a quick step inside before pulling it back to its place behind you. “You must be Kyle.”

“Yes ma’am.”

You greet the soldier with a kind smile, moving to place the folders in your arm on the small side table in the corner before pulling out the rolling stool from underneath and taking a seat, scooting yourself a little closer to the cot located in the middle of the room, closer to Kyle who is seated right on top.

“You don’t have to call me ma’am, makes me feel older than what I really am.” You say with a small chuckle. He doesn’t seem to be much older than you, a little younger than the other members in 141, you presume. Your eyes make their way from his eyes down to his shoulders, then to his arms, hands interlocked in his lap, all the way down to his legs and feet. “You can call me Gaz then, that's what everyone calls me around here anyway.” You file the nickname into the back of your mind.

You splutter out a greeting, a more friend like one at least, your name and medic title. “I already went through your medical history and you seem to be pretty healthy or at least your file is a lot lighter than some I’ve seen.” You mentally flinch when you realize that it might come off as you think he’s inexperienced in his field, new to the military, although his age hints at him being quite the opposite. But Gaz smiles, “Means I’m good at my job. Don’t get hurt too often, at least I try not to.” Oh thank God, you think, he didn’t take it that way.

“Well then, I guess me and you are gonna get along just fine then.” You chuckle. “Is there anything you wanna tell me though? Anything like trouble sleeping? Appetite problems? Joint Pain? It doesn't seem like you’ve complained about anything, ever. At least according to your records.”

A deep hum can be heard coming from his chest as he seems to run through his own mind, trying to come up with anything he would deem reasonable enough to complain about, at least to a doctor. As he’s doing so you take note of his clothes, the medical wing is set up like most hospitals, AC blasting, it’s cold, sure, but not enough to be bundled up for. Your eyes focus on his shoes, more specifically his socks, they’re not the military issued kind. They seem to be wool socks, which is odd, not something you see that often. Maybe his feet get cold, at least to a level that he takes an extra precaution to keep them warm.

While you’re finishing reeling in your thoughts after noticing your observation, Gaz finally finishes rummaging through his mind for anything to tell. “I don’t have anything I think is worth complaining to you, Doc. I mean if complaining about the food on base to you can actually change anything then that's about it.” A deep chuckle makes its way out of his throat. You smile.

“Can I see your fingers?”

The odd question makes Gaz raise a brow but he pulls his hands from his lap and lays them out to the space between you and him, palms up. You take a soft hold of his fingers, wrapping yours around them almost like you would grip onto a handle of something. They’re oddly cold. You take note of it in your mind and move his hand to be palm down so you can take a look at his fingernails, softly running your thumbs over them.

Gaz stays silent, watching you as you bring them level to your eyes as you take note of the very subtle vertical lines that run through his nails. You let a slight hum almost like an aha moment and Gaz is very confused. “What is it?” The question comes out with a slightly worried tone.

“Do you get cold easily, Gaz?”

“I don’t think I get any colder than the average guy, why?”

You finally drop the hold you had on his hands and scoot to the desk, opening a drawer to quickly take a pair of gloves out and slip them on before scooting back to your previous position near him.

“You wear wool socks, which aren't really military issued so I’m guessing your feet get cold easily and your fingers too. Your fingernails also show symptoms of an iron deficiency. Is it alright if I check your eyes and gums?” You always try to explain the best way you can, talking slower than you normally would- trying to come off as understanding as possible. He gives you a nod of approval before shifting closer to the edge of the bed so you can do your little investigation.

You take a hold of his face, placing your thumbs underneath his eyes before pulling down his water line to get a good look underneath. The spot is oddly void of red, a classic sign of anemia. You move on to do the same with his mouth, pulling on his bottom lip to look at his gums which are a pale pink- not the exact color that they should be..

Retracting your hands and pulling the gloves off you scoot to the manilla folder, pulling out a pen from your scrub pocket to jot some things down. “I think you’re anemic, an iron deficiency, nothing too serious since it doesn’t seem to affect your work but I’m gonna order a blood test to confirm and to see if it’s just a dietary issue or if you need a supplement to get you to normal.”

Gaz is kind of taken aback. He felt fine, or at least he thought he did. Sure, his feet and hands got cold but he had trekked through waist high levels of snow and water. The soldier thinks of how he gets winded when moving from one sparring match to the next. Was that what that was? “You got that because of my socks?”

Shit, you’re good.

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

Next was Johnny MacTavish, or “soap” at least that's what the red mess -doctor handwriting, right next to his real name on his file read. You had stayed in the curtain enclosed room after Gaz had left, writing out a referral for the blood test you had mentioned when you heard the slight squeaking of boots on the shiny floors headed right your way before they stopped right on the other side of the curtain. You looked up right as they were pulled aside and a friendly face greeted you, and a mohawk- which surprised you.

“You must be the new Doc, names Soap.” He greets you and steps inside, extending a hand to shake yours. You take it, giving him a light shake before introducing yourself and directing him to sit on the cot. Soap’s introduction didn’t seem rushed yet happened all before you could even stand up from your seat. It somehow exuded this confident aura off him, which somehow in your mind explains the haircut for you.

“I see here that you're a demolition expert?” To be frank, when you had read that in his file while going over all the men’s information, and seen all his med bay visits you knew he would be the one that would take up most of your time. You had seen first hand the aftermath of the explosions his people have dealt with. On enemies and on your very own. The thought and images are quickly pushed to the back of your mind.

“Yes ma’am.” He laughs, it's deeper and louder than Gaz’s. “You are the second person to call me ma’am today, please just call me anything else.”

“My bad, Sorry, Doc.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender. “I’m guessing you also know that your file says that you frequently find yourself in the medical wing.” Soap winces, a hand coming to rub the back of the neck. “Yeah, sorry about that. Kind of comes with the job. But, hey! We’ve got you now, so no worries.”

Yep, you had your work cut out for you on this one. “I guess you do, can’t wait to see what you get yourself into that I have to bandage you up for.”

Soap enjoys your replies, the banter settles nice under his skin. His smile doesn’t seem to fade, maybe slightly but never fully gone. “I’m guessing that since you’ve been at this a couple years you know about the annual hearing tests you should be taking.”

His smile drops instantly. “What.”

“You did know that all personnel that deal with explosives regularly are supposed to be given a hearing test once a year while for others it’s every 3, right?”

A laugh bubbles up in your chest, past your rib cage right near your spine as you watch him gape at you- like he’s grappling to find the words that he clearly doesn’t have. “I’m pulling your leg, your file doesn’t have anything on them either so I'm guessing you never had them.” Soap lets out a sigh before shrugging, flashing you a sheepish smile.

You chuckle, “Alright, I’m gonna have you do one for me and let's just hope to God you’re not deaf yet.” That earns a chuckle from him, again. He was a lot more talkative than Gaz yet around the same level of openness. Thank god it seems like you got a good team, no weirdos so far.

“Can I ask you one thing, lass?” Your eyes dart up from your folder where you were jotting down your notes. “Yeah, of course.”

“How fast does hair that's been burned off, by let's say- an explosion- take to grow back?”

Oh boy.

………………………………..

It had taken a while to finish up with Soap, he had too many questions for his own good. But the interaction puts a smile on your face at the thought. Your next patient was already waiting outside, Soap greets him right on the other side of the curtain before he comes in.

“You must be Ghost.”

You had heard of him before, small whispers of a skull masked man who never showed his face. To be honest with yourself, it wasn’t quite unfamiliar to have a soldier that preferred to cover their face most times, so the thought of it that wasn’t unsettling to you in the least. Even as his huge frame slips past the curtain before moving to the other side of the room, or at least to the other side of the bed. You suppress a frown, he’s purposely distancing himself from you- normal in his case, you try to tell yourself. There's a long moment of silence where you’re at least expecting him to somewhat introduce himself but it doesn’t come. Alright then.

You introduce yourself instead, trying to get rid of the silence. “Did you know that most of your files are almost completely redacted?” His eyes finally meet yours after making their way across the room. “Yeah, I know.”

There's silence again, this isn’t gonna be easy.

Ever since you were a kid you had always been able to read people, their eyes, their hands, the way they walked. You look at his eyes and the skin around them, at least the small amount you could see through the baklava he wore. They move down to his neck and shoulders, they’re stiff- almost painfully so. Then onto his crossed arms.

“So, how often do you get nightmares?”

Even Though you can’t see his face you know he’s surprised. “Excuse me?”

You give him a soft smile, “Your eyelids are kind of droopy, you have serious under eye bags, both indicative of an inadequate sleep schedule and your right shoulder is higher than your right even though you're standing straight which tells me you sleep on your side very often. It's actually an effect from what we call a sleeping soldier position. You lay on your side, one arm under your head and the other most likely holding onto some kind of weapon.”

He doesn’t answer straight away, it almost seems like he’s sizing you up. Trying to guess if you’re serious, if you’re being condescending in some way but Ghost can’t seem to find anything behind your eyes except kindness. It almost scares him more than what he was expecting. You know you're right, you’ve worked with dozens of cases of PTSD, diagnosing it and treating it. “What have you tried in order to help?”

You almost think he’s not going to answer you, that he’s just going to storm out of the room and somehow you’d lose your job before you even got the chance to do anything about it.

“I don't know how to fix it.” It’s a quiet, muttered reply. You almost miss it.

Ghost feels like he’s out of his comfort zone, sure soldiers had nightmares and maybe he had had them when on a mission, sleeping just a few feet away from his teammates but you were new and somehow could see through him. “Does your captain know?” You hoped the answer was yes because then it meant you wouldn’t have to tell his superiors about his personal problems and you could just help him without anyone having to know and judge him which is what you guess is making him uneasy. “Price knows.” You nod- they seem to be the closest in age on the team so you guess they’ve known each other for at least a decent amount of time, knowing things about each other that only a close friend would. “Then I can help, I don’t have to tell the captain unless he asks and neither do you.”

“No drugs.” Ghost had lost hope on ever truly resolving his problems when he lied awake at night thinking about it. Drugs would be written down, stored and used against him. He’ll be seen as an unstable soldier- a sick man.

“I can do that.” You offer him a small smile, at least you’re getting somewhere- doing your job.

Soap might not be the one to worry about, you thought.

—----------------------

You let out a quiet sign to yourself, the back to back meetings have had you cramped inside the room for hours. The team seems to be a good one, funny and kind, thank god. The last meeting was with the captain. You were nervous even though he had hand picked the three men you had met earlier so he couldn’t be too far off in comparison. But the thought that you were going to be working with him and he hadn't been involved in choosing you was gnawing at you. If he hated you or thought he didn’t need you he could have your bags packed in an hour tops. You try to take a deep breath, he couldn’t be that mean- none of the boys seemed to warn you about him so that means he had to be nice or else they would complain about him somehow.

The thoughts in your mind seem to be clouding your senses, you barely hear the steps coming towards the curtain and how they come to a halt right before the fabric is slowly pushed to the side.

Still lost in your thoughts and sitting in the stool, it seems like you’ve been glued to the whole day at the desk that's been housing all the manilla folders, referrals, and notes you’ve been working with for hours on end- you don’t hear the steps get closer and the figure who they belong to standing just slightly past the threshold. Price knows he should probably make himself known, maybe clear his throat or rustle the curtains so you know he’s here.

He plans to, or at least that's what he tells himself, he can’t help taking your form in, your back to him- legs crossed, seated, elbow resting on the desk, chin in your hand. He gulps, he hasn’t seen your face but somehow he knows that you’re beautiful. He would bet money on it without you even having to turn around. Surprisingly, it's the very gulp that makes him let out a small cough that finally has you turning your head to face him. A part of him wants to back out of the room and call Laswell, curse her out for this idea of hers but that thought seems to slip out of his mind as your eyes meet his.

You’re quick to stand up, wiping your hands off on your thighs before reaching one out for a greeting. “Shit, so sorry. I didn’t even hear you come in. You must be the captain.” Price takes your hand but his eyes don’t leave your face- that smile that he can already feel is going to get him in a load of trouble and gives you his own. “It’s alright, love.” You try to hide the sharp inhale you seemed to have involuntarily made when the name hits your ears.

His hands are calloused, not in a way that scratches you but feels sturdy, warm, somewhat comforting. The grasp he has of your hand lasts a little longer than what anyone would deem normal and you stutter out a soft command for him to take a seat on the cot.

Price does as you say and lets go of your hand before taking a seat, interlocking his hands in his lap. You take the time to turn and rearrange your papers, trying to get your breathing under control, of course no one mentioned he's handsome. Fuck.

“I hope my men haven’t given you a hard time so far.” You finally turn around after hearing his voice, it matches his face- handsome, charming. “ No, they're nicer than I expected.” That makes Price raise a brow, questioning what you mean by that and you catch on. “Gaz doesn’t like talking so much, Ghost is an enigma of his own, and well soap is one hell of a character.” You chuckle while taking a seat on the stool once again and scooting over til you’re a few feet away from him.

To be completely honest, Price had almost forgotten about the deal he made with Laswell. She had come by to drop your file at his desk- for him to look over- but in reality, he had forgotten. He feels what he thinks is guilt eating at him in his chest. He had been adamant for so long on not needing a team medic, that they were a waste of time and money- yet here you were, nice, beautiful and he didn’t hate you one bit.

“Well, Gaz is called Gaz for that very reason and well Simon is Simon, and soap- well he’s most likely the reason you’re here.” Soap had been the sole reason for 141’s increased med bay visits which is what had tipped off Laswell to initiate the month long debate of hiring someone.

“I’m glad you did, it doesn’t seem like you guys have been keeping up with protocol.”

“What do you mean, love?” Concern is laced into his words, the thought of his men not getting adequate help makes the knot in his chest grow tighter.

“I’m having Gaz checked for anemia since he’s got some of the tell tale signs. Soap hasn’t had a hearing test in over five years and Ghost has a severe case of insomnia.” You know that not a lot of teams have the opportunity to have a team medic, often resorting to rotating med bay doctors who aren't very keen on prevention and treating for mundane things. The look of guilt spread across the captain's face, his brows furrowing and lips taut. “It’s not your fault, I’m here now so I’ll be taking care of you guys and I’ll be trying my best, captain.”

Your words seem to settle the man down but you can tell he still seems anxious over his men. You place your hands on your knees, “Let’s worry about you right now.” You offer him a kind smile before standing up from your seat and taking a few steps forward before coming to a complete stop when you're standing right in between his spread knees. Your hands are held up a few inches from his face, silently asking for permission. Price pushes the feeling of apprehension to the back of his mind before tilting his chin slightly up, granting you to do so.

“Any past surgeries I should know about Captain?” The tips of your fingers press into the skin right below his ears, feeling the tension underneath while you slowly make your way down his neck, dotting your fingers into his hair clad skin.

“No.” You don’t know if it's in your head but his reply almost comes out as a whisper, your fingers run back up his neck applying pressure directly under his jaw on both sides of his esophagus. You hesitate for a moment when you don’t feel the usual clump of cells that should be there. You spare a glance at his eyes, taking a second too long to remember the shade of blue you find yourself trying to jot down in your mind. “You sure about that?” Your voice sounds softer, closer to the whisper he seemed to have let out before.

You slowly remove your hands from Price’s head and reach for the pen in your scrub pocket and turn to write something in your manilla folder that's laid out on the desk. “I think I would remember going under the knife, love.”

A small smile graces your lips while you finish writing your notes, scooting back to him. “Well Captain, I’m sorry to break the news to you but you don’t have tonsils.” You try to keep a straight face looking at the man sitting on the medical wings cot, barely a foot away. Your knees brushing up against his. “What does that mean?” You hear what sounds like a hesitation of concern laced in his voice and it almost makes you break the stoic look you’re trying to maintain.

“Either someone drugged you and ripped them out of your throat in your sleep or you had them removed when you were a kid and you didn’t remember and no one ever bothered to check or write it down. I'm gonna go with the ladder so you can sleep better at night.” You let out a little chuckle at your imaginative story to pull his leg. Before Price seems to catch onto your joke you ask a follow up question. “Do you smoke?”

“Does that matter?” He looked like the type to smoke, maybe not exactly a cigarette but maybe a cigar, your eyes flash down to his hands and look at his fingers which are laid out on his knees. Yep, he looks like the type to smoke cigars. Your eyes come back up to meet his.

“Cigars?”

Price doesn’t have to answer your question, the look on his face alone answers for you. Before the words reach your ears you’re already back to writing some notes in the folder. Sparing a glance back at the man you notice how out of place he looks. His dark clothes stand out against the pristine whiteness of the blanket laid out on the medical bed, and the slightly off white colors of the walls, the freshly mopped shiny floors. You have the sudden urge to comfort him even though he’s not here for any actual type of medical treatment.

You can see the questions brewing underneath his lips and behind his eyes. Turning your body back to face him, inching your stool a little closer til your knees are almost back to pressing against his.

“If you got your tonsils removed as a child you have a slightly increased risk of upper respiratory infection and you smoking- even if it’s an occasional cigar increases that risk even more.” You try to show some sense of empathy through your eyes while they meet his. A sense of understanding seems to cross his face from your words and it causes a warm smile to find its way on your face.

“It's not that big of a deal but since it’s now in my job description to make sure you and your men are as healthy as can be I just want to make a note of it in case of anything.”

“Alright, love.”

The gruffness in his voice makes you fight back a shiver. “Do you not like doctors, Captain?” His eyes wander around the room, taking note of the fluorescent lights and sketchy wallpaper with a not too fond look on his face. “Not exactly, just not fond of the medical wing itself.” You nod, “yeah I can agree with you on that, not exactly friendly.” John smiles, it's small but something and you feel a tightness in your chest just from the sight of it. “Well since I’m your doctor now we can always just meet in your office instead of here, as long as I can just bring my supplies when needed.”

Price doesn’t understand why you’re trying to be so understanding, so comforting. It’s strange, out of the ordinary for the man, especially in his line of work. His eyes rack your face, down to your hands where you’re fiddling with your fingers. “I’m here to help you Captain, that's it.” You can tell he’s thinking, trying to take you in- read you.

Price decides he likes it, likes you.

“You gonna cook me dinner too, love?” He chuckles. You let a small laugh slip past your lips. “Ask Laswell to see if you can upgrade to the doctor deluxe package and maybe I will.” You’re enjoying this, and judging by Price's reaction he seems to be enjoying himself too.

“Deluxe package?”

“Yeah, cooked meals, back massages, the whole nine, Captain.”

“Sounds like a dream if you tell me, love.”

You both break out into a chorus of light laughter and quiet chuckles. The room doesn’t seem so small and suffocating like you had thought a mere thirty minutes ago and that pit in your stomach has seemed to all but dissipate. You finish going over some more of his medical records, confirming some information and filling in some gaps before you realize that it's been over an hour and the day is coming to a close. It doesn’t even hit you until Price brings it to your attention by looking down at his watch.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve probably kept you here for longer than you planned.” You say with an apologetic smile, nervousness etched into your words. “It’s alright, love.”

The boys were most likely waiting for him in his office for the past twenty minutes but he didn’t have the heart to tell you. Your eyes seemed to have glued him to the cot and your voice lulling him into a daze. Maybe having you around wasn’t so bad after all.

He stands- you follow him. “Well, it was nice meeting you, captain.” You hadn’t had time to take him in when he first came into the room. He’s tall, wide shoulders, tapered waist, and a nice strong set of thighs you have to force your eyes off of.

“John.” You raise a brow, lost in thought from seeing him in his full form. “You can call me John.” His smile is warm and it's almost like the warmth of it radiates onto you and you feel a rush of heat crawl up your neck.

“Okay, John.”

“It was nice meeting you, love.” Price gives you one last kind smile, the crows feet along the edges of his eyes come out at the gesture as he walks towards the curtain before pushing it aside and stepping out. The curtains don't go back to their previous place. You watch him as he walks away until he’s out of eyesight and you finally feel like you can catch your breath. Fuck, your captain is hot.

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Taglist: @sharkiestory

#john price #john price x reader #fluff #cod modern warfare #cod men #x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #gaz x reader #ghost x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #kyle garrick x reader #slow burn

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daenysthedreamersblog · 1 month ago

Text

SECRETS OF US - I

i knew it, i know you

it all changed for me and i told you

you had the wrong idea about me

masterlist // next chapter

summary: you needed the fine arts credit to fill your schedule and finish out your junior year at university, but so did your sworn enemy coriolanus snow because of course he did.

warnings: swearing

paring: modern!coriolanus snow x reader

notes: omg so happy to have this out!! this story has been so fun to write!! i hope u enjoy!! it took me way too long to write this whole story out but its finally ready to have someone else enjoy it (hopefully)

You're staring forward with a blank expression on your face as your mother rambles into your ear through the phone. You chew your cuticle to avoid sighing or groaning at her, letting her into the obvious feelings of annoyance of the subject of her conversation; your father, your career, your school.

"Yes. Yes, Mom I know." You scoop up the iced coffee into your hands and make for the door. You shift your bag around shoving the phone further into shoulder as your other one pushed the door open. "I'll come visit for the holidays I promise." You lie turning around the glass door and smacking into a solid wall. Your coffee smashes to the floor and all over your feet, "I am so-Oh it's you." You glance down as your destroyed beverage, "I have to go." You hang up mid questions.

He glares at you, "Do you ever watch where you're going?"

"Do you?" You shove back inside to grab napkins to clean the coffee off of your ankles. You grab your now empty cup and toss it into the trash along with the wet napkins before pushing past him down the street. You don't even try to go and reorder too annoyed and needing distance from him of all people. "You owe me $6 for that coffee you made me spill."

"I made you spill." He catches up to you matching your stride easily with his long legs and you feel more annoyance settle into your stomach. "You ran into me!"

You don't even look over at him as you cross the street. "You should have held the door open for me like a gentleman."

He snorts, "You've known me our whole lives...when have I ever been a gentleman?"

"Maybe you could start." You take a left to head down another block your campus coming into sight. It had been three years since you had seen him, three peaceful years of never having to look at his aggravating face besides a rare sighting in the library, but what should have been a docile dislike still burned in a raging blaze of fury. You searched for maturity, for a sophisticated phrase to send him off, but he brought out the worst in you. "Don't you have somewhere else to be? Schemes to plot in an evil lair?"

"I actually am heading to class this way too." He chuckles. "Has anyone ever told you you are a ray of sunshine?"

You smile sarcastically, "I would be a lot nicer if I had my coffee."

"So dramatic." He shakes his head laughing at you. You stop, looking at his grinning face. Three years and time had treated him well which only infuriates you more. He was taller somehow, his hair shorter and trained straight instead of those adolescent curls you begrudgingly despised. There was slight bags under his eyes no doubt from the start of the semester changing his sleep habits because you were the same, even more reason to be upset over spilled coffee. He looked good, and it made you hate him even more.

You decide not to respond, but pick up your own pace to put distance between you and your sworn enemy, but he kept following. You knew he had classes in this building since you had the same classes given he decided to pick the same major as you, but when you take a right down the stairs you believe he's simply following you. "You're being creepy."

He points ahead of you, "I have class this way too... like I told you." Your stomach drops. No, no, no this can't be happening. You reel on him eyes narrowed in anger watching his smug face slowly drop in realization as well. "You've got to be kidding me."

"I needed the fine art credit."

He pinches the bridge of his nose, "So did I."

You slap you hands against your legs in exasperation because of course you had the same curriculum with the same required credits. "You simply always need to copy me."

"Could say the same about you." He pushes past you and into the classroom ahead. It wasn't just a classroom, it was a theater. You had chosen this for the credit on your transcript because it was different than anything else you have done, you had a chance to prove yourself in something new, be the main lead if you wanted; gain attention, notoriety, and an ever growing boost to your resume. You chose it because you knew you would excel and exceed where others could not simply based on who you were and how you treated everything academically in your life.

Okay maybe you also figured it would be a fairly easy pass.

And so had you old Academy rival Coriolanus Snow.

It wasn't horrible. He mostly sat on the opposite end of the room as you and you barely had to interact with each other those first few classes. It had consisted of generic information, a slow introduction to the world of pretending, nothing too intense that you knew was surely coming.

You had the same major, political science with a minor in business, but you had had freedom structuring when you took certain subjects, carefully crafting something that never put him a few desk away from you again, thankfully you both never had crossing seminars...besides this one.

You and Coriolanus Snow had a long history together. You had grown up together, not closely, and not anything of note, enough to be aware of each other, but this growing animosity didn't take root truly until you both attended Academy together. You can't always picture how it started in the depths of your mind, but it had been there for some reason. You see snippets of niceties but that always seemed like delusional daydreams of a world that never existed, never could exist. You had both wanted to be top of the class, always fighting for the number one position, teacher's favoritism, student body president, valedictorian... It gnawed at both of you eating away at any form of camaraderie to the point anyone who knew you, knew you hated each other.

You glared over at him as he wrote things down in his notebook. You knew he would be attending University with you, you wished he had been dumb enough to not be accepted, but nope he was here, sitting a few seats away from you again. And of course the asshole had to be gunning for you here just the same.

"Alright my lovely students." Mr. Flickerman clapped his hands. "Now that were a couple classes in I want to go over our huge project for the year." You sat up straight, this was your moment. "I have written a play that we will be performing, and I'll be holding auditions next week for different parts." He smiled glancing around the room, "The final show won't be until the end of the spring semester, and as we go through it we'll be going over different techniques of line delivery and stage directions and play writes...you get the point. Once we're done you won't be able to view a show without analyzing it."

The class flatly laughs.

You smile after he dismisses you heading down to the sign up sheet quickly. You wanted the lead, you needed the lead. You wanted him to be so impressed he makes a reporter come down here to add you to the paper. Okay that was silly. Mostly you wanted your father to come watch and maybe see your more than just his pawn, that maybe there was more to you than his perfect molding. You wanted Coriolanus to be some boring side part with no lines that no one would ever pay attention to. You scribble you name down on the part you want and take the script copies home to practice and then you're heading back home to your apartment with that ever growing fire under you.

You lose yourself in preparing for it you barely hear your phone ring until it goes off for the second time. "Tell me you're getting dick and that's why you're not answering."

"I wish Clem." You run your hand over your face. "No I'm studying up for something."

She groans, "You're so boring, come out with us tonight there's a new place in town that has really good espresso martinis."

"I can't." You sigh. "Maybe once I land this part."

"Wait." She chuckles. "Part? Is this for that theater class you wanted to take or does daddy have you off doing side quests again?"

You actually laugh as you set the script aside, "It's for a class, for a credit I need." You trace the words absentmindedly. "I figured it would be different...fun. Nice break between all the other boring shit I'm doing." You stare down at the lines of your future male counterpart, "You'll never guess who-!"

"Are you and Coriolanus Snow in the same fucking class...again?" She sounds shocked as if the possibility of running into him had always been small despite the agitation around it every coming semester.

You flop back onto the couch, "Yes ugh he's obsessed with ruining my life."

"Surprised the building hasn't combusted from your two inflated egos." Clemensia jokes.

"His is bigger than mine."

She laughs even louder. "I'm sure it is darling. Well, I got to run, our car is here but you'll have to tell me how it all goes next weekend over these martinis if they're actually any good."

"It's a date." You smile as the line cuts off plunging you into silence. You shove the script away and stand up going to your fridge grabbing out the bottle of wine and opening it to pour yourself a large glass. You sit back down on the couch, curling your feet under yourself as you scroll through social media.

You find yourself on his page seeing his stupid pictures with his stupid face doing stupid things as you sip on your wine. It wasn't fair that someone so annoying was so good looking, it also wasn't fair that he was aging like fine wine. You chuckle into your own wine. You keep scrolling and scrolling through his pictures more of your wine disappearing before you neared when he was back in Academy with you. You pause on one of him with a group of the other boys. He looked so young, with his longer blonde curling hair, and a little grin on his lips before the cruel world could steal the light from his eyes. You're trying to zoom in when your phone slightly slips the red heart appearing on your screen.

"Oh no." You quickly unlike the photo. "Shit, shit, shit." You close the app throwing your phone across the couch. Maybe he wouldn't see it. You drain your wine, your nerves buzzing.

Your phone vibrates.

"Are you stalking me?"

It spreads out across your bright screen that sends adrenaline coursing through your thumping heart. It's a direct message from him.

You stare at it for so long considering all your options. You could lie, say it was your friend, a pet you didn't have, maybe you were babysitting or hacked! You could just tell him you slipped but then he would know you were looking through his old photos.

You could just...never respond.

"I thought I blocked you." Is all you type back. He didn't need an explanation, or your time and beating heart, screw him.

"Clearly not if you're looking through my photos from years ago." He types back too quick, "Reminiscing on the good ole' days?"

You tap your fingers on the side of your phone, "You did look so innocent back then, how deceiving." You're on your feet going to the fridge for more wine to avoid the three little bubbles going off while he typed back.

"What are you doing right now besides looking at pictures of me?"

"What?"

"Can you read?"

"Yes, but why do you care."

"Call it boredom..."

"Drinking."

"What are you drinking?"

"The blood of my enemies."

He doesn't respond for a while, so long you think this little game is finished. But then your phone goes off again bringing a blush to your cheeks as you read his message, "You wish."

You never type back, you turn your phone off and go to bed.

You avoid messaging him again the rest of the weekend heading to class with your head down. You blames the alcohol for even letting you give him the time of day. You take your seat in your normal spot grabbing out your notebook as a coffee slides across your desk. You follow the hand holding it until you're staring into his blue eyes. "Figured it's better than the blood of your enemies." He says finally taking his hand off of it you glance at his name scribed out on the cup by the barista then back to him, "And I owed you one from last time." You scowl at him, "It's not poisoned."

You narrow your eyes at him venom dripping from your ever present emotional fangs, "Just because we had a little DM session doesn't mean we're friends."

He rolls his eyes, "Can't you just accept one act of kindness and move on."

"I don't trust your kindness." You cross your arms, "It's manipulative."

"At least I can fake kindness, you don't have a nice bone in your body."

You smirk, "Only to people I don't like."

He glares at you, "Then block me." He storms off.

"I did already!" You lie watching his back as he makes his way to the other side of the room. You trace the letters of his name.

You get the lead...obviously. The play was an original romantic tragedy that Flickerman had constructed, you were surprised by his lighthearted nature he was able to produce something so solemn, something that encompassed what you had always longed for within romantic entertainment; yearning and passion; everything your life lacked. It didn't matter as long as you did well with what you were given, and you would. You had to.

Clemensia had kept true to her word by taking you out for celebratory drinks, and as your drinks clink with your friends you can picture the applause you will receive after the performance, the smug smile on your face as Coriolanus lurks in the shadow of anonymity. "You always were into the dramatics." Arachne Crane watches you over the rim of her drink.

"Well now I can put that trait to good use." You laugh taking a drink.

"How romantic is it?" Clem ask with a mischievous gleam in her eye.

You shrug, "Nothing crazy just some kissing scenes."

Arachne swirls her drink, "Do you know your scene partner? Is he at least cute?"

You racked your brain trying to imagine the rest of the class, for some reason the only 'cute' person that showed up in your imagination was Coriolanus, and that didn't seem accurate because he wasn't cute, he was annoying. "No idea Arch." You sigh, eyes wandering out into the dim restaurant, but your phone vibrates in your purse.

You glance at your friends who are engrossed in their side conversation before tugging your phone gently out of your purse. You chew on the side of your finger smirking down at your phone reading the name pinging on your screen.

Then its being ripped out of your hands, "Who has you smiling-Coriolanus Snow!" Arachne's eyes widened in shock, "'I thought you blocked me.' That isn't even clever and why don't you have him blocked?"

"Yes, how did he ever get through those defenses." Clem chuckles. You had never blocked him during your time at the Academy, it had never seemed important at the time, and after the whole direct message debacle you had blocked him...for about a day.

You snatch your phone back, "I must have forgot and he's in the same class as me, probably just wants to ask about a test or something."

"I did. How did you figure out I unblocked you?"

"Curiosity killed the cat, also I'm smart."

"So I'm the cat or are you?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, kitten."

Your head spins, he's teasing...right? "Then what are you in this story?"

"Whatever you want me to be."

"Are you flirting with me Coriolanus Snow?"

"Do you want me to flirt with you...kitten?"

You know your face is flushed, why did he text you when you had been drinking and can't think straight. Why was he even talking to you? He wasn't flirting with you, he hated you and you hated him and that had always been the status quo you both enjoyed. This had to simply be banter to get into your head, to throw you off, he's always been personable, smoozing his way to the top, sarcastically nice towards you; this seemed different. "Gross." You had sent the puking emoji for good measure.

You watch the three bubbles for quite some time, you actually begin to feel bad you were on your phone but it dragged you in for some reason, making it incapable to look away, like a horrible car wreck happening in the palm of your hand.

Until finally his messaged popped up, "Congratulations on getting the part, looking forward to working with you." He had sent a kissing emoji next to it making your heart stop.

"He's my scene partner." You stare up at your friends all joy dripping out of you. "He got the lead part too." Because who else in that room would have been capable if not him.

Arachne nearly spits her drink out while Clemensia burst out laughing. "Oh that is perfect."

"Who knows." Arachne states condescendingly, "Maybe it will bring you two...closer." Which only brings laughter from both of them as you put your head in your hands. This was bad, bad news and you needed to end it before wreckage could ensue.

Once the week starts you go into class earlier than everyone to search out Mr. Flickerman. This had to be some mistake, or game he must be playing at to continue to ruin your life. "Professor." You breath. "I need to talk to you about the play."

He doesn't look up at you as he filters through papers, "What about?"

"Coriolanus can't be my scene partner."

Mr. Flickerman glances up at you. "Why not? I think you two will be wonderful, you both had the best auditions for your respective roles."

You close your eyes trying to phrase it nicely. "We have a long history and-!"

"Romantically?"

You cringe, "Gods no."

"Then what's the issue?"

You sigh. "We don't like each other and I'm worried that will...reflect in our performances."

Mr. Flickerman pinched the bridge of his nose. "Are you backing out then?"

"No." You stand up straighter, why would you ever give into him. "He should."

He laughed. "Good luck convincing him of that." But he saw the distressed look on your face and took a deep breath. "Look I suggest perhaps figuring your issues out, maybe this will be a bonding experience!" He nudged you with his shoulder, "Maybe it will heal old wounds."

You know you won't get anywhere, he's too caught up in making his play perfect for reviews and you didn't blame him. You turn around watching Coriolanus striding down the row of desk in all his wicked glory. "This is a new low for you Snow." You seethe at him. "I know you're only doing this to make me back out."

"Did you?" He smirked but for some reason its doesn't have the usual flair behind it.

You held you chin up. "No, and I won't be, but you will."

He leans down, closer to your face. "Is that a threat, kitten?" You feel the blush burning through your cheeks and he laughs at you. It's the first time he uses the pet name outside of your phone and you lose words. "Have fun trying though." He pushes past you towards his seat leaving you grid your teeth in frustration.

He was impossible, he was rude and narcissistic and-and you had to kiss him or else your pride would be in shambles. You wouldn't-couldn't back out or else you'd be viewed as a failure, a quitter.

You would have to kiss Coriolanus Snow.

endnotes: hope u all enjoyed this first chapter i had hopes the first chapter was longer but alas this is where we are at!! hoping you stick along for the ride!!

next part

#daenysthedreamersblog #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus x you #coryo x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coryo smut #coryo snow #fanfiction #the hunger games #eventual smut #coriolanus fanfiction #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus fic

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artdolliewishes · 10 months ago

Text

Something I’ve seen a few times before is the idea that, to contrast the NRC crew, the students of RSA have nice facades but are secretly condescending, arrogant, rude, etc. The reasoning for this is pretty solid: the students at NRC are villains with secret good sides, so the students of RSA should be heroes with secret bad sides.

But the problem with this - at least in my humble opinion - is that it’s just wrong in a major way.

There’s no doubt that the NRC students, especially the Dorm Leaders, are complex characters. They’re people who have been greatly hurt in some fundamental way and have thus developed a hardened exterior, shunning away that softer part of themself.

And after their respective chapters, each character is allowed to become better, make better choices, do nicer things, and just improve as people in general.

But let’s not kid ourselves, these characters are still fucking assholes.

When we finished Chapter 2, Leona rude and lazy nature didn’t instantly melt away to reveal that he was a sweetheart this entire time, he was still rude and lazy even if he was slowly improving. And the same goes for Azul’s scheming nature and Riddle’s strictness, etc; they aren’t as one dimensional as their facade would suggest, but it’s not like their bad attitude is skin deep.

So, why can’t the RSA students be genuinely kind if the NRC students are genuinely mean?

But on the other hand, it also doesn’t make sense for them to be one dimensional, non complex heroes who’ve never don’t anything wrong in their life. So I have a solution.

If the NRC students are arrogant little dickheads who have been hurt in the past in a way that shaped them into what they are now, then maybe the RSA students are genuinely kind people who have been crushed by the weight of expectations and the pressure to be “perfect.”

They can’t be rude, or selfish, or mean, or anything that would paint them as being less than the golden child the world expects them to be. They are good people at heart, but they’ve suppressed their “bad” side like how the NRC gang has suppressed their good side.

Anyways, these are just my thoughts.

#twisted wonderland #twst #royal sword academy #night raven college #twst rsa #twst nrc #twst analysis #twisted wonderland analysis #my rambles

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reallyromealone · 10 months ago

Note

Maybe a part 3 to resilient?

Resilient chapter 3

Eddie Munson x male reader

Stranger things

Warnings: omegaverse, male reader, angst, Omega male reader, implied mpreg, Eddie feels like Dookie

☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️🐟☁️

(sons name) excitedly ate his pancakes, (name) looking fondly at his kid as Hopp drank his coffee while reading the morning paper "so ducky, you are gonna hang out with grandpa today, isn't that fun?" (Name) Gently cleaned the pups face as they moved on to their bacon, extra crispy just like (sons name) liked it.

(Sons name) Looked giddy before glancing at his grandpa "what we doin!?" He asked with an aggressive level of excitement and Hopp chuckled "you gotta see bud" his eyes holding a glimmer of excitement as he finished his coffee "now finish your food"

Eddie stood infront of the apartment door, nerves invading his mind as he hesitated to knock, pulling back when he was about to and pacing slightly in a small circle.

"Stop being a bitch munson... Just knock on the door" he took a deep breath and knocked on the door, waiting anxiously for ten minutes before knocking once more "he's not there" a withered old voice said as Eddie turned to see an elderly woman at the door across the hall "do you know where he went?" Eddie asked anxiously and the woman sighed "moved to his dad's or whatever... Good kid, gonna miss 'em" Eddie thanked the woman and left the building, a shuttered sigh escaping his lips as she toyed with his car keys, thankful that no one really cared about him as he got inside his mustang and just rested his head on the wheel.

"Fuck" he was at Hopps? That was practically a death wish for Eddie... Hopp had zero qualms for shooting people off his property and added bonus of Sheriff... Yeah he wasn't going there.

He drove around town, aimlessly looking for any sign of the Omega as he tried not to let anxiety flood him as well as avoid anyone he may know, especially Robin and Steve... The two were a danger within themselves.

(Name) Was happy as he ended his shift, walking to the local toy store to get his toddler a few gifts as he had a fair more amount to work with now that he didn't pay rent, already having decorations hidden in his closet for the party in just a few weeks.

(Name) Looked at the toys his son would like, large building blocks and paw patrol were big contenders as he looked at his options carefully "I am not getting that... To many parts" parts he and his dad will definitely step on eventually and frankly that's not what they needed.

(Name) Was excited as he left the store with a few bags of toys, giddy he got to splurge on his little sunshine.

He wasn't expecting to lock eyes with Eddie... He always thought of this day... The day he would eventually see him, have something witty to say or maybe be cool and put together and make Eddie regret hurting him like he did...

But all he did was stare, throat tight and body suddenly freezing cold as Eddie looked like a sad puppy "can... Can we talk?" Eddie said softly, (name)s breathing uneven as he felt himself grow dizzy with anxiety... Suddenly he felt like the helpless teen he was almost four years ago.

It was extremely tense as they sat before one another in the back of a small diner, coffees infront of both of them, neither speaking for a solid ten minutes.

"So... You're back" (name) whispered as he fidgeted with his fingers, Eddie wanted so badly to reach out to him but he knew that would be a terrible idea "I am... Wayne showed me the letters... I-I didn't know" (name) just stared at him coldly, anger flooding through him "yet you still did what you did" (name) whispered, voice shaking with anger as he looked Eddie in the eye "never did you think to believe me, to listen to me... But now suddenly I matter? I don't care if you didn't know, I will never forgive you" (name) seethed, a strength rushing through his veins that he didn't know he had and Eddie looked gutted at his words. Good.

"You sent me a cease and desist, I don't understand why you are talking to me since you clearly despsie me" (name) was more confident as he leaned back "after all, I'm just a gold digger and a whore who wants to earn THE Eddie munsons favor again" paraphrasing Eddie and his band mates + parts of the gangs words and Eddie looked like he was killed over and over again "I am so sorry... I'll cancel the cease and desist! I-I just wanted to make amends... Meet my son..."

"You can meet him but know I will never forgive you..." (Name) Said coldly "you can even do a DNA test if you want... Make sure you are actually the father of a whores pup" (name) knew he was the dad, (sons name) was literally a mini Eddie down to his smile but god did he want to rub salt in the wounds.

"I have to go, I have things I need to go do, I'll let you know when he and myself are ready to see you" the Alpha shakily handed (name) his number, he watched as (name) lifted bags up "goodbye, Munson" (name) said coldly and left Eddie in the diner, coffees untouched.

(Name) Rushed to his car, his dad giving him his old truck to drive and drove off, unsure where as he reeled at what just happened, god he was shaking.

He got home, sitting in the driveway as he felt anger and anxiety flow through him, he avoided ANYTHING Eddie related for almost four years and bam! There he was with a shitty apology and god (name) felt like he vindicated his past self for telling off his ex, fuck Eddie Munson frankly.

(Name) Left the toys in the car, unsure if his kid and dad were home, not wanting to risk it as he unlocked the door "YOU HOME!" (sons name) Squealed as he ran towards his dad, (name) smiling as he lifted the pup in his arms "so are you my little firecracker!" (Sons name) Gently bonking his forehead against his dams, having learned cats do it do it was his new favorite thing "how was your day with grandpa?" (Name) Asked as he walked into the kitchen area where he saw cookies and Joyce along with his siblings "what are you two doing here?" He knew Joyce had gone to go see them but... "Mom got us, we can't miss our favorite nephews birth" will said softly and (name) smiled stupidly before looking at his son "they came just to see you!"

When (sons name) went down for his nap, (name) spoke of the meeting with Eddie to his family as he nibbled on a cookie "he apologized to me and all that but god I just wanted to beat him with the mug... How dare he act remorseful when he was so cruel to me" how dare he expect that sympathy and empathy when he denied (name) it all those years ago, (name) crushed the cookie in his hand as he grew more angry, thankfully wearing scent blockers so no one had to smell the death stench of an angry Omega.

"So are you going to let him meet (sons name)?" Joyce would support anything (name) decided as her step son sighed "...I- I will let him meet him but on my terms... I plan on meeting him again and maybe bring Steve when bringing my terms... Everything is about (sons name)s comfort"

(Name) Spent the night putting the terms together, thinking of anything needed.

Then he sent off the text for a meeting to set boundaries with a deep sigh.

He didn't know if he wanted his son to have Eddie in his life but he knew it wasn't fair to his pup... Didn't mean he liked it though.

#stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #omega male reader #omegaverse #male reader #stranger things angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie Munson x male reader

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stusbunker · 5 months ago

Text

Spotless: Obbligato

Chapter Twenty Nine

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean/Bela

Other characters: Tiny, Crowley, and Sera the venue lady, both bands in the background, faceless fans

Word Count: 3162

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, mention of past Dean/Annie, friends who do not have the whole picture and are therefore quicker to judge each other aka drama

Series Masterlist

You exhaled and put your phone in your back pocket. Donna was dancing on the side of the stage closest to you, swaying with her guitar, ruby red lips smiling bright. It was a stark difference to the mindset the two bands had been in only an hour ago. God, everyone had been so scared. You felt like you should be doing damage control, but with investors and who’s-who’s brushing elbows in the VIP you had to save face. No one could know Dean had been missing.

Not even Bela.

Naturally, she found that moment to reappear. “Everything alright?”

You shook your head to clear your thoughts and smiled. “‘Course. Find anything good?”

She smiled wickedly at you and handed you a proper martini from the bar. “We’ll see, won’t we?”

Once you had a good handle on your cup, she held hers up and you clinked the glasses together. “Cheers.”

You took a big gulp and winced at the amount of olive juice, but the burn of the Gin more than made up for it. “Uh, yeah, cheers.”

Bela giggled and turned to watch as SPS finished their set. They were slowly wedging their ways into PT’s fans’ hearts and playlists. You had seen some chatter from the fan pages, plus Becky had posted a lot of supportive tweets about them once it was announced they would be along for the whole tour. It was easy to see them keeping in touch after this tour, they already felt like family.

It was only the second night and this tour was shaping up to be something memorable, something pivotal, maybe even historic.

“They’re killer,” Bela seemed to be reading your thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“You said they’re Canadian?”

“Well, mostly. They’re based in Vancouver, but Patience and Jody are from the U.S.”

“Huh. And it was Dean’s call to have them join on?” Bela played with her cocktail spear as she spoke, the stadium around you moved as a whole in the intermission.

“Well, he suggested ‘em. The suits make all the real calls.” You took another sip, feeling like she was going somewhere with this.

“Naturally. Well, that was— progressive of him.”

You felt your face drop in surprise.

“What?!” She asked like you were the one being rude.

“Why did you say that like that?” You felt oddly defensive of SPS all of the sudden.

“I didn’t mean anything bad— I wasn’t disparaging the other band, Y/N. I was just saying— that it was a good mark of his character. It was meant to be a compliment— I swear.”

You exhaled.

She reached over and squeezed your forearm. “You need to relax, love.”

You nodded, still a little dazed by the dred that had crept out of her best intentions. “I need a fucking nap, but this’ll do for now.”

Bela hummed in agreement.

The VIP attendees doubled the closer Phantom Traveler’s set loomed. You made sure to stay close to the edges and to keep Bela within Tiny’s range. The amount of gawkers that had needed to be escorted along were weighing at the back of your worries. But you trusted security to do their job, you had enough to monitor as it was.

You and Bela took a few selfies with the stage in the background while you waited, both of you falling into the trap of your phones until the lights signaled it was time for the show to start. From somewhere backstage Lee’s voice reached across the stadium and welcomed everybody for the night. The opening bars of ‘Black’ started, which meant Dean and Sam were starting this one off together and then everyone started to scream over the first verse and Dean’s husky opening. But between the love of the song and the dramatics of Charlie’s lighting you couldn’t blame them.

They were solid. Though Dean was ultra focused, less playful than the show the night before.

You weren’t the only one who noticed the change. “Looks a little pale up there, doesn’t he?”

You spun on your heels and smiled brightly at Crowley. “Hello! Sorry I didn’t see you come up. Bela, this is Mr. Crowley from the label.”

“Charmed,” Crowley replied, leaning down to kiss Bela’s outstretched knuckles. “Dick said you were lovely and you’d be sticking around, but I just had to see it for myself.”

“Did he? Well I’m glad to hear Mr. Roman is on Team Tal-chester,” Bela snarked back.

“Aren’t we all?” Crowley deadpanned.

Oh, this was going to give you a migraine. Dean’s voice spoke to the crowd, but you couldn’t spare the attention to hear the introduction to the next song. You had to be focused on what was happening in front of you.

Bela asked about Gavin, who she had met in passing the night before. Crowley was as smug as ever, and gave little besides slight jabs and open ended questions back.

“How are things looking now that the tour has started?” You jumped on the first business notion that came to mind.

Crowley’s dark eyes danced from you and back to Bela, almost chagrined to talk shop. “Pre-orders of the album are up twelve percent since last week. But, uh, let’s talk ticket sales and press junkets on Monday, shall we? Don’t want to miss the rest of the show that we’ve all been waiting so patiently for.”

You gave him the grace to step away, maybe too easily. “Of course, I’ll be on the call from the hotel in San Diego.”

“Right. Well, goodnight ladies, I hope it is— fruitful for you both.”

You and Bela both plastered on your best smiles and waved nervously until he was out of sight.

“What a git,” Bela muttered.

You couldn’t disagree, but suddenly you were hit with a burst of applause. Dean’s voice was crooning, holding a note from one of the new songs and then everyone stomped on the last note.

“‘Pushing Through’ everybody,” Dean said simply and pulled back to let Lee take the front of the stage.

Kicking yourself for missing the live premiere, you nodded Bela closer to the ledge to get a better view of the stage, while hopefully minimizing your distractions. Tiny followed four paces back, large and lurking, ever present and professional.

Lee chatted the crowd up and then they slid into ‘Breakdown’ from their third album which was about a tour bus’ flat tire and also about how they first started noticing Sam’s struggle with the harder stuff. Pam kept the drums going as they moved into ‘Lost and Found’, their first ever single. The song that got them noticed by Crossroads in the first place.

By the time they dove into ‘No Regerts’, a tongue-in-cheek song that only made it on the same album as ‘Breakdown’ as a hidden crack track, Dean was looking more alive on stage. That irresistible smile was noticeable even from two levels up. Pam and Kevin walked them out of that song with an almost marching fanfare, spirits were up.

You tried to breathe and forget about Crowley.

‘Twigs and Twine’ set up nicely into a cover of ‘Funk 49’ by the James Gang, which everyone really had fun with. Dean ended up practically jiving with Pamela as she rocked out with the blocks. Lee added his own little drawls to the familiar riffs, which you knew meant he was having a blast. You slowly let go of the panic Dean’s absence had caused, but the knowing glint in Crowley’s eyes was harder to shake. The energy on stage was even drawing in the uppity-ups in VIP.

You were so proud how the band had come together, yet again to give it their all.

For some reason, Bela continued to hit each of your raw nerves. Nothing she said or did was actually offensive, but somehow her very presence felt like a burden. When she gestured that she was going to go mingle during ‘Damned’ from their third album you just rolled your eyes, but nodded that you’d be okay where you were. Tiny was keeping her in his sights anyway, no reason you had to abandon the show to socialize with people you never fit in with in the first place.

Sam burst through the tail end of ‘Damned’ with a line both funky and familiar and the way Dean and Lee whipped their heads around you would have thought it was a shock. But you also knew that Sam knew better than to fuck with his brother’s setlists. They were just playing it up that Sam went from a song off the album that marked his darkest days to a feel good number from their first album. ‘So Co in So Cal’ was laid back and celebratory, a summer drinking song at its finest.

You raised your glass and danced in place, feeling the rhythm and loving the way the band slipped into the emotions of each song. Two songs later and before you realized it, they were welcoming Annie onto the stage for the last official number.

Bela returned as Annie was greeting the crowd, while effortlessly teasing Dean just like the night before.

“They’ve got quite the chemistry, don’t you think?” Bela’s voice appeared beside you.

“Yeah, but nobody can call your bullshit like family,” you agreed.

Bela smirked. “I know chemistry like that, Y/N, especially amongst performers. And those two have seen each other naked, nobody looks at each other with that kind of devilish mirth without having done the deed.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, that was ridiculous. She was like their aunt! But then the conversation the teens at the animal shelter had way back when popped into your mind about Sam and Annie having a fling. And as pissy as Cas’ niece was, she wasn’t a liar. Something like dread washed down your back and settled traitorously in your stomach.

Bela just gave you a ‘I told you so’ look and turned to watch the duet.

You felt like you didn’t know Dean at all. Not that it mattered who he slept with, that really wasn’t your business. But Annie married Bobby. It was weird to set up your surrogate uncle with an old fling, wasn’t it?

Not to mention Sam. Wait which one went first? Did they share? Your brain spiraled into chaos scenarios and you needed air. You figured there was twenty minutes of encores to come, so you bowed out of the VIP and told Bela you were going to make sure the signing room was set up.

Smiling at the venue security as you went, the agenda for the rest of the night took over inside your mind. Autos and afterparty, the real private afterparty with the band’s inner circle. Making sure everyone knew when check out was and when to meet at the busses. Touring was like riding a bike, this time you just had to keep Bela on your radar and make sure her and Dean made nice with the fans. Everyone else you trusted. Not that you didn’t trust Bela, or Dean, for that matter, it was just the focal point. Their relationship’s success held your professional reputation in its grasp.

And Crowley knew it.

The venue had done a better job creating a flowing line for that night’s autographs. So you just carefully counted chairs and security guards to kill time. Sera burst in just as you heard the heavy thunder of stomping feet signal the true end of the show. You smiled at her and made small talk. She seemed ready to be rid of you, and the band, more than accommodating, but you didn’t take it personally. You knew how stressful it was coordinating these things. That she, too, had people she had to answer to.

The winners from the local radio station were escorted in first, followed by some of the higher ups in the fanclub, and people who paid through the nose for the opportunity. You smiled and nodded at the few who waved at you. Some of the fan club recognized you from a spotlight Becky did on you for her newsletter before the last tour.

It was odd to have such an active and loyal group of fans in the social media age, but somehow PT inspired it more than most.

Then a wave of cheering and clapping broke you out of your thoughtful appreciation. Kevin led the way as the band smiled and high fived their way behind the row of tables. Sam must have just put on a tank top, though sweat dampened even the fresh fabric where it clung to his abs and between his shoulder blades. Pamela rocked a pair of shades that she probably grabbed off one of the security guards. A signature move of hers that she adapted after the one tour when Cas almost blinded her with the old shaving cream prank.

God, you missed him and all his pierced glory.

Shaking your head, you waited as Lee posed for quick selfies with the group at the front of the line. That only left Dean. Spotting Bobby rounding the corner you made a beeline behind the band’s chairs.

“Where is he this time?” you demanded.

Bobby huffed. “Your bestie asked for a ‘quick mo’.”

You groaned. “Of course she did.”

But before you rifled up the nerve to go interrupt whatever they were up to, Dean appeared from the opposite direction of the dressing rooms with Donna and the rest of SPS behind him. He smiled at you like a petulant child and squeezed your shoulder as he slid past the fans and down to his seat at the far end of the row.

You exhaled and tried to keep your face optimistic as the opening band also gave you apologetic faces. The meet and greet passed in a blur. Just before the mingling portion was set to wrap up, Bela slinked in with a fresh wave of perfume and a killer’s glint in her eyes. You grabbed her by the elbow before she could interrupt Dean and Sam making nice with a set of four college-aged girls in matching PT swag.

“Hey, just give them a few more minutes and we can all head to the afterparty together.”

“It is so dull waiting around, can’t I just pop in for some photos, too?”

You tried not to make a face, but Bela knew you too well to hide your annoyance from her.

“Come on, Y/N. It’ll be alright. Guards at every exit, don’t worry.”

“I’m not worried about the fans, I’m worried you’ll make a scene. Dean’s not the only member of the band, they all like time with the fans.”

“Make a scene? You do not want to challenge me to cause a ruckus, dear.”

You closed your eyes and bowed your head, releasing your hold on her arm. “That’s not what I meant, just leave him be for a few more minutes. Okay?”

Bela seemed to weigh her options and conceded. “Fine, but we’re taking my driver to the hotel and not bothering with the hired muscle.”

“We or you two?” you clarified.

“The happy couple,” she said with all teeth.

You nodded and gestured for her to head back the way she came, probably the dressing room, since the VIP had probably been cleared out by the venue staff at that point. Once the fans were escorted out of the space, you reminded the band to clear out the dressing room. Benny had a platform dolly waiting for their concert baggage and gear.

You needed some air, so you decided to wait for everyone outside, which was better than trying to navigate the parking garage like a civilian. Naturally, Bela and Tiny spotted you as they stood on the curb beside a freshly detailed limo.

“Is he coming?” Bela bellowed, her words were surprisingly slightly foggy from the late night chill.

“Gotta clear out the dressing room,” you said as you approached, arms wrapped around yourself to keep warm.

Groups of people still littered the sidewalk and walked by, trying to decipher which car that was double parked was their ride.

“You know you baby him too much, he doesn’t need a nanny. He’s a grown man,” Bela said, seemingly out of nowhere.

“It’s kind of my job, so—.” You shrugged it off.

“No, it isn’t,” she said firmly.

Christ, you were so over tagging along and it was only the second show she was scheduled to make an appearance.

“Listen, you know what’s been going on, it’s better for me to be ahead of anything than to play clean up.”

“Or you just like to be in everybody’s pocket.”

Your head snapped up to glare at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Look, Y/N. I’ve been around awhile and it’s not with everybody, all the time.--- I don’t know if it’s leftover guilt or what, but you literally insert yourself into every minute of Dean’s life. Even when you’re not there, you’re there. And no matter what you do, how hard you work, or how much you care it’s not going to bring Jo back.”

You recoiled like she slapped you across the face.

There were no words for how far she had taken it, how much it hit every single one of your insecurities. You were a busybody, a hanger-on. Nothing could fix the past. You had taken away any chance for Dean to be happy. You had killed your best friend.

But she hadn’t said what the worst of it. The dirty little secret that you weren’t able to keep from the likes of Cas or Bobby, the people who truly knew Dean. And that was how you felt about him, how much you wanted him to look at you the way Bela claimed he looked at Annie.

You tried to dispute it, but the words caught in your throat as the tears burned in your eyes. Tiny approached and cleared his throat, warning you of an approaching crowd. The nearest exit burst open and a rush of photographers appeared around the corner, as the band and their crew made a beeline for their waiting vehicles. Dean had thrown on a jacket, collar popped high as he kept the paps at arm’s length.

You cleared your throat. “I don’t know what your problem is, but we put a lid on it for the rest of the night, got it?”

“Happily,” Bela replied, not looking at you but at the wave of reporters and flashing cameras as they followed Dean’s progress to the curb.

You watched dumbfounded as he kissed her hello, nodded over her shoulder at you, then held the door of the limo open for her to crawl inside. Tiny kept the vultures at bay and you followed him to a discreet SUV around the corner where Annie, Bobby, and Victor waited.

At least somebody cared that you had a ride.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

Chapter 30: Larghetto

#spotless series #dean winchester fanfiction #dean/reader #dean/bela #rockstar au #fake dating #slow burn #dean angst #spn au #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean x reader #dean x you #rockstar!Dean

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gilbertscurls · 3 months ago

Text

Classroom Competition ➵ Matt Sturniolo

more chapters

synopsis: two rival English teachers, you and Matt, challenge each other to an end-of-year competition to see whose class will come out on top.

You stood at the front of your classroom, flipping through the stack of essays your students had turned in earlier that week. The air was thick with the smell of freshly sharpened pencils and the quiet hum of focused minds. Your students were finishing a timed writing exercise, and you could already tell from the intensity in their eyes that they were giving it their all.

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Your class was doing great this semester. They were engaged, improving their writing skills daily, and, most importantly, they were enjoying the material. You had spent weeks perfecting your lesson plans, making sure they were creative and challenging. But in the back of your mind, there was always one nagging thought.

Matthew.

Your fellow English teacher—and academic rival.

Victoria had been teaching at Somerville High for two years now, and ever since you and Matt had both started in the same semester, a silent, unspoken competition had brewed between you. You both taught sophomore English, and though you never directly confronted each other about it, there was a clear rivalry between you to see who could get the highest test scores, who could make reading Shakespeare fun, and who could inspire their students the most.

It wasn’t that Matt was a bad teacher. Quite the opposite, in fact. He was too good. Charismatic, engaging, and with an ability to make even the most mundane literature seem exciting, he was loved by students and teachers alike. His reputation for getting the highest standardized test scores among his classes wasn’t lost on you either.

But you weren’t about to let him overshadow you.

The bell rang, and your students handed in their essays on the way out. You were just gathering your things when the door to your classroom swung open. Speak of the devil.

“Y/N,” Matt greeted you with a casual smirk, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You busy?”

You looked up, narrowing your eyes. “What do you want, Matt?”

“I just thought I’d swing by and see how your class is doing,” he said, his voice smooth. “You know, make sure everything’s running smoothly on this side of the English department.”

You rolled your eyes, picking up the stack of essays. “My class is doing just fine, thank you.”

“Of course they are,” he said, pushing off the doorframe and stepping into the room. He glanced around, taking in your meticulously organized classroom. “I’m sure you’re drilling those essays into them like always.”

You bristled at the jab but kept your tone light. “Maybe, but at least my students know how to structure an argument properly. I’ve heard yours are still struggling with thesis statements.”

Matt chuckled, clearly not offended. “Oh, they’ve got it down. But I prefer to focus on more… Creative approaches to writing. You know, things that get students to think outside the box.”

“Right,” you said, leaning back against your desk. “And that’s why your students are always scrambling the day before exams, right?”

He shot you a look, but his smile never wavered. “Hey, it works for them.”

You had this same back-and-forth at least once a week. It wasn’t mean-spirited, but there was definitely an underlying tension in your conversations. And today, you were determined to win this round.

“Speaking of exams,” you said casually, “did you see the test scores from last week’s assessment?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “I did. Pretty solid across the board. How about yours?”

You grinned. “Best in the department.”

For the first time, Matt’s smirk faltered just slightly, and it was all the satisfaction you needed.

“Congrats,” he said, a little less cocky now. “Guess I’ll have to step up my game.”

“Guess so,” you said sweetly.

He crossed his arms, clearly not ready to back down entirely. “Well, if we’re being competitive, how about we up the stakes?”

You eyed him warily. “What kind of stakes?”

“An end-of-year competition,” he suggested, leaning against one of the student desks. “Your class versus mine. Whoever gets the highest overall grade average wins.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly does the winner get?”

Matt thought for a moment, then his grin returned. “Bragging rights. For the whole summer. And…” he paused for dramatic effect, “the loser has to buy the winner coffee every morning for a week.”

You crossed your arms, biting your lip as you considered the offer. It was a ridiculous bet, but there was something thrilling about it. And if you were being honest with yourself, you liked the competition with Matt. It kept you on your toes, made you push yourself harder. Plus, the thought of beating him, once and for all, was too tempting to resist.

“Deal,” you said, stepping forward and offering your hand.

Matt’s smile widened as he took it. “Deal.”

The rest of the semester flew by, and true to your word, both you and Matt ramped up your efforts to make your classes the best they could be. You spent countless hours refining your lesson plans, coming up with creative writing prompts, and working one-on-one with students who needed extra help. You weren’t just teaching to win the bet—you genuinely cared about your students’ success—but knowing that you had a competition with Matt made you push even harder.

On the other side of the hallway, Matt was doing the same. He organized debate competitions, hosted creative writing workshops, and even incorporated poetry slams into his curriculum. His students adored him, and he had a way of making literature come alive in a way that was different from your more structured approach.

By the time the end of the year rolled around, both teachers were anxiously awaiting the results. Final grades were submitted, and the last week of classes was a blur of goodbyes and final projects.

You were standing in the teacher’s lounge, tapping your foot impatiently as you waited for the principal to post the final grade averages. Matt stood beside you, leaning casually against the wall, looking far too relaxed for your liking.

“Nervous?” he asked, glancing over at you.

“Not at all,” you lied, crossing your arms. “Just ready to win.”

Matt chuckled. “We’ll see about that.”

The principal finally walked in, holding the final grade reports. She posted the averages for each class on the board, and you felt your heart race as you scanned the numbers. Your class had done incredibly well, but so had Matt’s.

It was close. Really close.

In the end, Matt’s class edged yours out by a mere half a percentage point.

You let out a frustrated sigh, crossing your arms as Matt grinned triumphantly beside you.

“Looks like I’ll be expecting that coffee next week,” he said, his tone dripping with smugness.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

Matt chuckled, stepping closer, his voice softening just a little. “You know, this whole rivalry thing—it’s fun.”

You glanced up at him, your heart doing an unexpected little flip. “Yeah. It is.”

For a moment, you stood there, the usual tension between you shifting into something else—something that felt less like competition and more like connection.

“So, what’s next?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Matt grinned. “Oh, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”

And as you walked away, you couldn’t help but wonder if this competition of yours was just beginning—only now, the stakes felt a little higher.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom

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redfoxwritesstuff · 5 months ago

Text

A Misdemeanor Of The Heart (Chapter 5) Human!Alastor x Reader)

Rated Adult Chapter Trigger Warnings: Alastor is a little shit.

AN: Reminder- Double update this week, See you Friday. Updates will now be every Friday!

Now with Audio by Nyx Productions, read by the lovely @nyx-umbrakinesis. Want to revisit the land of Misdemeanor but don't have time to sit and read? Maybe it's your first visit and you want the whole experience? Let Nyx read you a story: Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist AO3 KoFi

“It’s just up here,” Laurence said, glancing over his shoulder to find his dinner guest lagging behind. He needed this loan and yet dinner wasn’t wasn’t off to a great start if he couldn’t at least keep the man’s attention long enough to get to his office. He just needed you to not fuck up somehow when bringing ice up or finishing dinner.

“A lovely wife you have, Laurence. It’s a shame for her to be married to a man so eager to offer her as collateral,” Alastor said, as the stairs creaked with each step he took.

“Nothing but a jest, Mr. Moreau.”

“Of course,” Alastor said, doing nothing to cover the fact that he didn’t believe Laurence had said it in jest for a minute.

“We’ll let her finish up fixing dinner while we-”

“See to business. Yes, yes, that’s fine.”

Laurence shut the office door as Alastor stepped inside, sealing them off from the wonderful aroma of fresh bread that permeated the lower level of the home. What a shame, Alastor thought.

You had invited Alastor to make himself at home when he came into the house, so he did just that. Rather than sit in one of the overstuffed chairs across from Laurence’s desk, Alastor walked around the small office, eyes taking in little details as they ran over trinkets and notes.

“Is Emma a pet name for your darling wife? Such an illogical choice.” Alastor turns from the calendar, eyes running over the desk.

Laurence laughed nervously. It was clear to Alastor that he didn’t enjoy having someone he couldn’t control in his space. “Oh well, you know how men are.”

“And how is that?” Alastor asked, cataloguing every bit of information he could about who Laurence was and what kind of man he really was.

Laurence gaped, fishing for the correct answer in his small brain. Alastor wasn’t playing by the typical male script he was used to dealing with. Dreadfully dull, Alastor thought. He couldn’t come up with a slight excuse to cover his affair? Men’s desire to run around on their partners never made sense to him.

“Was there a reason we must abandon the hostess?” Alastor finally settled into a chair, leaning back and crossing his legs. This may be Laurence’s home ground but Alastor made it clear who really had the power at the moment.

“This is men’s business…” Laurence tailed off at the soft tap tap at the door.

You did not enter this space, Alastor filed that away as well. He turned, watching you as you passed Laurence the tray with ice-filled glasses, hands trembling.

Were you terrified of your husband? Or was it pain? Perhaps illness? No, not illness. You flinched too much for it to be something as simple as poor health. Plus, there were the marks on your wrist. Did you think you were clever with the bracelets and the sleeves?

“It’ll be just a few moments while I draft up the contract,” Laurence makes a show of pulling out a large typewriter case from the shelf to the left of his desk. It was clearly expensive, just as many other items in this insufferable office.

Alastor finished his glass of whiskey in one quick drink before setting the glass down directly on the solid wood desk. When Laurance frowned at the glass set exactly two inches to the left of the coaster he had ever so blatantly requested Alastor use to protect the desk surface, Alastor simply smiles back at him.

“While you set to that task, please do excuse me.”

“Is something the matter?” Laurence stood slowly.

“Not at all! I’m simply off to the washroom.”

Alastor let out the breath he felt like he had been holding forever as the door clicked shut behind him. The washroom was lit by gas, Alastor noticed, not electricity like the office and living room had been.

Why would the Latimer household only update part of the house when adding electricity? Looking around the washroom, he saw new pipes. The home was plumbed. Upgrades had been started but stopped. Why?

Humming as he went, Alastor continued exploring the small room. Everything was bright white, and he hated it all. The warm wood tones of the rest of the house were far better suited to his own taste.

Spotting the small glass vial on the sink, Alastor picked it up and opened it. The smell made him cringe. Medicinal and strong. Laudanum, if he had to guess though, the label was ripped from the bottle in places. Who did it belong to and who were they hiding the contents of the bottle from?

Alastor had taken it before and never been a fan of how it had made his head feel.

Sure, he had a bottle on hand in his own medicine cabinet but his was covered in dust and nearly new. This vial was clean, fresh and nearly half empty. Who took it? Was it you or Laurence that took it often enough for the vial to be fresh?

Stepping out of the washroom, Alastor looked first at the closed office door. The click click click of the typewriter behind the door gave away how slow of a typist Laurence was. At the rate he was going, Alastor could type the contract four times over before Laurence would finish the first copy.

Hell, he could draft it by hand faster than the keystrokes were coming from beside the door.

Instead of rejoining Laurence in the office, Alastor kept walking down the hall. He was mindful of each step as he descended the stairs, avoiding those he had noticed squeaked under weight.

Laurence was eager to offer his wife as collateral, but clearly didn’t enjoy it when Alastor paid her any attention. Though Alastor shot down the offer at Mimzy’s, it surprised him that Laurence didn’t offer those same terms again. Instead, it was his car Laurence was drafting the contract for.

Alastor had no trouble finding the kitchen. He moved through the house silently, leaning against the doorframe as he watched you work. Your back was to him, allowing him the freedom to watch you without reservation.

If Mimzy was here, she would tell him how he could have this, whatever this was. He wasn’t so sure that it was something he ever wanted. He knew it was something he could have, and he likewise knew it was something he didn’t need. But did he want the domestic life?

It hadn’t worked out so well for his mother. If people were talking about him, though, that wasn’t in his favor. Could he trust a meek little woman in his space, keep her happy and entertained enough that she wouldn’t run around town being a gossip? Would he be able to find someone who would look the other way and believe it was animal blood that stained his clothes?

As he watched you in his thoughts, you worked the loaf of bread out of the pan. Thinking you were alone, you held your injured shoulder stiffly, using your body to brace it as you moved. When you shifted it wrong, you gasped softly in pain, muttering softly under your breath a reminder that the meal needed to be perfect.

You dropped the loaf into the bread slicer contraption, then braced the end of the box against your apron covered front and slowly sliced through the loaf again and again until the loaf was leaning forward, sliced into neat sheets of bread sitting in a sea of crumbs. The rich smell of beef gravy was thick in the kitchen, hearty and welcoming.

You were humming to yourself as you worked. It was a pleasant sound that Alastor found he enjoyed. As you turned to put the sliced bread into the basket, he stepped back out of what would be your line of sight. From where he stood, he could see you as you stepped up to the oven, but you were unlikely to see him.

He watched as you rubbed your wrist, pushing the bracelets up and running your hand over the dark bruise. Though his eyes were not the best, Alastor could see the clear definition marking where fingers had wrapped around your wrist with more force than was ever justifiable.

Why did you stay? Did you like being thrown around? He doubted it. You hardly looked like you loved your husband. It was clear as day that you were uncomfortable with him every time his hands touched you. The farce was better executed in public than he had seen in your home, but he saw nothing that told him you held anything close to affection for the man you were married to.

Carefully, you reached out with the towel draped over both hands and grabbed the handles of the kettle. Hesitation had you standing in that position as heat seeped into the fabric for longer than Alastor expected. Surely your hands were getting close to burning.

Then you lifted. The kettle didn’t make it any more than an inch off the iron burners before clattering back down as you cried out softly. Alastor watched as your shoulders sagged and you sniffled.

You wouldn’t be able to lift the kettle. You wouldn’t be able to pull the meat out of it and put it in the serving dish. Dinner would be ruined, and you were convinced it would be your fault.

“Allow me,” Alastor’s voice came from the doorway, startling you.

“Oh, no- It’s fine.” You looked around for Laurence. The last thing you needed was for him to see you inconveniencing his guest.

“He’s in his office, drafting the contract at the pace of a schoolboy,” Alastor’s long strides took him into your kitchen and to your side before you had a chance to protest more. “You’re clearly struggling to lift it.”

He took the towel from you as if the kitchen was his. It looked easy as he lifted the kettle from the stove, as if it weighed nothing. You watched dumbly as he looked around to find where you had the trivets set up. The sound of the kettle setting down on the counter snapped you out of the daze.

“Can I help you with anything, Mr. Moreau?” you ask, trying to remind him of propriety as he scooped the pot roast from the kettle and set the crumbling hunk of meat into the serving dish for you.

“Alastor,” his eyes flick up to you for a moment before returning to his self-assigned task. “I simply needed a moment of more agreeable company. I find your husband rather dull. however do you put up with him?”

You were not sure what you could say to such a confession. It was improper to speak to a woman about her husband in such a manner. It was improper to be alone together, doing something as intimate as household tasks together.

Arguing with the guest was improper, but it was also not something you could agree with while remaining proper. You were not even sure if you agreed with it. Laurence was a part of your life. It wasn’t optional, so you had never thought about it.

Instead of thinking about it, you needed to set the table in the dining room. The dishes were in an overhead cabinet. Reaching up, you opened it easily enough. Plucking up the shallow bowls was something you expected to be doing in private.

Your shoulder ached, you needed to take a few more pain pills and lift the delicate bowls one at a time to ensure you didn’t drop them. With him there, you couldn’t do that though. It would look suspiciously like you were avoiding using your arm.

You’d already given away too much with the kettle.

You tried to keep a smile on your face as you reached up with both hands. Finger tips trembled in front of your eyes. No matter how hard you tried to stop them from doing so, they continued to tremble.

Grab the dishes in one neat stack. Put them on the counter. Do not drop them. Rest a moment. Carry them to the dining room. How hard could that be? You could do it. You needed to do it. You had to do it.

“Let me get it for you,” Alastor’s voice was soft and low in your ear.

You hadn’t heard him move, but when you jerked back from him only to have your hip strike his arm. Without you noticing, he had come up behind you and caged you in, resting his palm against the counter on your other side.

He reached up with his other hand, leaning forward as he picked up a stack of three dishes. Your breath froze in your lungs as his chest brushed against your good shoulder and back. For a moment, you told yourself that he didn’t know. He was just being helpful until he leaned more into you.

You gaped up at him. Too close. You had never been so close to a man you were not related to outside of Laurence. Sure, you’d bumped into men and let Alastor provide you support as you got up off the floor at the butcher, but this was different.

It was a second really, long enough for you to register the warmth of him. He leaned forward a bit more, smirking down at you as his chest and side pressed firmer against you.

Torso to torso, you couldn’t feel any of the give that Laurence’s body had but before you could even form a thought about what that meant for Alastor’s body, he stepped back and held the fragile china in his large hands.

“There you are.” Your heart dropped at the sound of Laurence’s voice. Had he seen? You did nothing wrong, but women rarely escaped the blame when it came to impropriety.

“I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the lovely aromas of your wife’s cooking.” Alastor laughed, bowls in hand as he carried them to the dining room.

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alloftheimaginesblog · 1 year ago

Text

happy new year {peter parker}

part one here

plot: after your ex peter leaves you a card on christmas, you go visit him.

character: peter parker x female character

note: i love emotional, touch starved peter parker

It had been almost a week since Peter had left the card on your fire escape and you'd not reached out in any way shape or form despite Peter's hopes and wishes. He took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had completely moved on so it was time he did too.

He had just finished his second patrol of the day and was coming back to Aunt May's for some lunch when his enhanced hearing could hear muffled voices and laughter coming from Aunt May's home. Someone else was here. Peter frowned. Aunt May hadn't mentioned anyone else coming over today. He shrugged it off, maybe just a neighbour coming to wish her a happy new year.

He pulled the mask off, shoving it into his hoodie's pocket - he liked doing his patrols with a hoodie and sweatpants over it to keep the winter chill of New York away - and opened the door. The voices were louder but still muffled, he couldn't tell who it was.

He dropped his backpack by the door and walked into the kitchen where the voices were coming from. Peter was expecting a neighbour - Mr Jenkins or Anita from across the street - he certainly hadn't been expecting the person who was sitting across the kitchen table from Aunt May.

It was you.

Everything seemed to stop, time slowed right down and all Peter could do was stare at you with an expression with resembled that of seeing a ghost. He was acutely aware of his heartbeat, hammering loudly in his chest, ears ringing as your head rose to look at him. Your smile faltered for the briefest of moments as Aunt May stood, re-introducing the two of you after all this time. Your lips moved but he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

It took a solid ten seconds for Peter to come back to reality. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. He hadn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared to encounter you again. He thought that this chapter was done, closed and finished... But you were standing in his Aunt's kitchen.

"Hey, Peter," you said gently. God, he wanted to fall to his knees with the way you said his name. One word, two syllables and he would've killed for you if you asked him to.

Aunt May saw his surprise and half stepped in front of you, almost shielding him from you so that he could regain some form of composure, "(y/n) wasn't sure where your new apartment was, Peter, so she came here. She brought some delicious scones as a new year's gift." Her eyes were aglow with excitement, she had hoped the two of you would find your way back to each other and maybe this was that connection finally happening like it should've stayed.

"Uh," Peter nodded to his Aunt May, silently telling her that was he was okay and she moved out of the way. Peter took a deep breath. You looked perfect. He'd seen you a week ago, Christmas Eve, but right now it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair was loose and bouncy, your cheeks slightly rosy from the winter chill, your eyes wide and smiling at him with a slightly unsure expression, "Hi." All it took was that one word and he saw you visibly relax, saw your shoulders fall and saw a flash of relief on your face.

Aunt May quickly thought of an excuse to leave and left the two of you in the kitchen with so much tension hanging in the air between the two of you, "How-"

"I'm sorry-" you blurted out.

Peter frowned, "What?"

"- for just showing up. I-I went to your apartment - your old apartment - the woman that lives there didn't have a forwarding address for you and she wasn't all very pleasant at all-" Peter smiled slightly at your nervous rambling, "-and I knew where Aunt May lived and I had to talk to you so I just came here. I didn't think to call because- I don't actually know. I-"

"Hey," his voice was so soft and gentle, "it's fine." There was a moment's pause and he continued, "I moved about six months ago. Needed a change." The apartment was full of the ghost of you. "Few blocks away from my old apartment. Nicer. Rent is horrendous though." This made you crack a smile.

Again, silence fell. It was awkward. You had come here prepared to tell him what you needed to tell him and now, standing in front of him... you were too scared. He looked good. Tired but good. He had grown his beard out which was nice, you always loved him with a beard. It suited him. His chocolate eyes were just as warm but there was a sadness surrounding him again, like when you first met him.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked quietly.

You nodded immediately, "Sounds good."

The snow fell slowly, floating down to the ground as you and Peter walked. Neither of you spoke but it was a little more comfortable being out in the open with the sounds of New York around the two of you.

Anxiously, your fingernails dug into your skin. Just tell him, (y/n). You came all this way to chicken out?! You took a breath but Peter beat you to the chase.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped by coming to your apartment," he said sincerely, "I-I know that's why you're here so scream at me if you want, I just... I deserve it." You frowned, confused, "Aunt May had told me she bumped into you and you were with someone and you were happy... I... I got jealous but I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Pete," you said with a shake of the head, "I mean, yeah, you overstepped the mark. It was completely and wildly inappropriate and almost kind of creepy?" You took a second to pick your words, "But you made me kind of snap out of the auto pilot mode I was in."

It was Peter's turn to be confused.

"Jasper... He was great. He's someone Rachel set me up with a few months ago and yeah, he was fun but..." He wasn't you, "it wasn't going to work out. We wanted different things."

You cleared your throat, refusing to look at him and instead looked away from him watching the snow fall, "Wait... you broke up?" You nodded, again not looking at Peter. Embers of hope began to burn a little brighter in his stomach, "Oh."

"He knew about you, you know," you said quietly and had Peter not had enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard your next few sentences, "He knew he had no chance competing against you even though you weren't trying until last week. He knew that I still loved you."

Peter's face softened and he slowed down with you. He stretched his hand out to take yours but hesitated and his hand fell. For a moment, the two of you stood - you with your back turned and Peter with the most forlorn expression.

"I really tried to get over you, Pete. I really tried." You sniffed, wiping tears away before they could fall. You turned to him, seeing his own eyes welling with tears, "It wasn't your fault, Peter."

His head fell back onto his shoulders as he closed his eyes, tears mixing with wet snow as he exhaled a long breath. For over a year, he harboured the guilt of your accident. It was because of him; who he was. You got hurt and he hated himself for it.

Your hands clasped his cheeks and Peter gasped. He was so touch starved, he hadn't realised that another person hadn't touched him besides Aunt May in a year. You pulled his head away from the sky to look down at you, "You hear me?" You were crying, "What happened to me, it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you, Peter, I never have and I'm so sorry that I couldn't help you last year. I'm so sorry you've held onto this all this time."

He opened his eyes, staring at you again for what felt like the first time, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I know that," you let out a sob, "Peter, everything you've ever done is to protect me! Had it not been for you, I would've died. You webbed my wounds and took me hospital immediately, you saved me."

"But-"

"You saved me, Peter. None of it was your fault. I do not blame you. Please, please stop blaming yourself."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, pulling him down so you could plant the kiss on him. Then one on his wet nose. Despite the cold, Peter's body was on fire at your touch. This was what he'd been craving for a full year. You.

"You better stop," his voice was thick, "cause if you let me kiss you, I'm never gonna let you go again."

You smiled widely, pressing your foreheads together, "I'm not gonna leave again so by all means..."

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in a flash, hot and cold, melding together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He still tasted the same; chocolate, coffee and peppermint. His hands pulled you in, not hesitant anymore but confident and knowing. He pulled you flush against him as he kissed you, a hand weaving into your hair as the other wrapped around your back. God you missed him. And for a moment, just for a moment, everything in the world was good and everything was right.

What a way to start the year.

#one shot #imagine #peter parker #peter parker x reader #reader insert #os #marvel imagine #marvel one shot #andrew peter #tasm #tasm peter parker #tasm imagine #tasm peter x reader #spider-man #spider man #spiderman #avengers

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