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heauxplesslydevoted · 4 years ago

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Fire & Desire (Ethan x MC)

Warning: NSFW, 18+

Summary: After the funeral, Naomi heads to Ethan’s apartment for comfort. Let’s pretend that 30 diamond scene in chapter 12 didn’t happen, okay? I made up 95% of this.

A/N: Guys, I have an embarrassing amount of rewrites/drafts of this on my computer. Pls enjoy.

~v~

In order to survive the past few days, Naomi has made it her mission to get through things one step at a time. Her first goal was to survive the toxin. She did. Then it was to just get well and be discharged from the hospital. The last step was to make it through Danny and Bobby’s joint memorial service in one piece. Not only did she do that, but she delivered a eulogy flawlessly, while her friends and colleagues all fell apart at the seams and waited for her to do the same.

But now that it’s all over, now that there’s no goal to work towards especially since Naveen won’t let her back in the hospital without clearance from a therapist, Naomi has never felt more lost or out of sorts in her life.

After the memorial, Naomi went home with her roommates and she regrets it. Jackie and Elijah can barely look at her without giving her pity glances, Sienna has been trying to feed her nonstop, and Aurora has convinced them all that she’s spiraling due to her meltdown at Ethan earlier that day. So she hid in her bedroom, pretending to be asleep simply because she was tired of them.

But sleep evades her. Outside of a quick 15 minute power nap, Naomi hasn’t been able to sleep, thoughts of being back in that hospital room never too far from her mind. Every time she closed her eyes, the fear took over, gripping her and refusing to let go.

So that’s how she ended up here, in Ethan’s apartment, on his couch, nursing a glass of scotch. Being at home wasn’t an option and there’s no one else she’d rather be with, so as soon as her roommates went to bed, Naomi slipped out and made her way across town to Ethan’s place. Ethan was shocked when he found her outside of his apartment at midnight, especially with the way their last conversation ended. He wanted to scold her for taking an Uber so late at night by herself, but of course he didn’t turn her away.

“Are you hungry?” Ethan asks, opening and closing his refrigerator a few times, as if that will make food magically appear. “I didn’t cook today, but I can probably throw something together.”

Naomi doesn’t know if her appetite still hasn’t returned or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her, as she can still taste the vomit in her mouth at the mere mention of food. “No, I’m fine for now.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay.” Ethan wants to ask questions because she’s obviously come here for a reason, but he doesn’t want to push her. “It’s late and you must be exhausted though.” He walks back to his living room and holds out a hand, which Naomi grabs. He ushers her to his bedroom. “You can sleep in here.”

His room still looks like she remembers. The king sized bed takes up most of the space, and he still has the most amazing view in all of Boston. The night is still young and bustling, the buildings all lit up.

“You’re sleeping in here too, right?” Naomi asks.

“I was going to take the guest room, or the couch.”

Naomi shakes her head. “Nonsense, you’re sleeping with me.”

Even though there’s no light other than moonlight spilling into the room, Naomi can still see his cheeks tinge pink. “I didn’t want to assume.”

“I think after our night together in the hospital, assuming will be safe. It’s cute, but we’re grown and you won’t offend my virtue.”

“Noted.” Naomi watches him as he moves around the room, a sort of anxious energy radiating off of him. He rummages through a drawer until he finds something suitable for her to put on. “Here you go.”

It’s a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from a charity 5k because of course Ethan is the type to participate in something like that. Naomi rids herself of the jeans and sweater she haphazardly threw on in her rush to leave her apartment and slips on the t-shirt, forgoing the pants. Their obvious size differences make the shirt look comically large on her like a nightgown.

“Fair warning, I don’t have a scrunchie or anything to wrap my hair in, so I apologize if you wake up to like...a lion’s mane of hair in your face.”

“I think I’ll survive.”

Naomi pulls back the covers and slides into the bed, moaning upon contact. Oh, to be rich and have fancy high thread-count sheets and a memory foam mattress. “God, I never want to leave this bed.”

“Keep making noises like that, and I won’t let you.” He doesn’t climb bed behind her, opting to sit on the edge. “You want to talk?”

“About what?”

“The fact that you’re here right now, instead of your own apartment.”

“Is it not enough to say I wanted to see you?”

Ethan scoffs. Naomi is charming, but she can’t bullshit him. “Sure.”

She doesn’t want to talk about herself. That’s all she’s done for the past 48 hours, and she’s tired of it. It’s selfish.

She manages to turn the tables on Ethan. “You look tired. I’m sorry if I woke you.”

“You didn’t,” Ethan assures her. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

“I didn’t have you pegged as an insomniac.”

“We’re doctors, so it goes without saying that we’re all insomniacs.” Ethan sighs. “But to be honest, I haven’t had a good night’s sleep all week.”

“I get it. With the toxin, and Bobby and Danny, and Raf–”

“It’s not them, Naomi, it’s you,” Ethan argues. “I spend all 24 hours of the day with you on my brain, worrying about you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“I thought you were going to die in my arms,” Ethan continues. “I tried to stay optimistic for you, but all I could think about was the fact that it could’ve been my last night with you. That night, after you finally fell asleep, I stayed up, analyzing your vitals. The only time I wasn’t looking at you is when I was looking at your chart. And every night since, I lay awake, forcing myself to not contact you.”

Naomi frowns. She’s spent so much time wrapped up in her own head, she didn’t take much time to think about how Ethan was affected as well. She’s sure she’d be a wreck if the situation was reversed, if he was the one fighting an unknown deadly agent.

She crawls out the sheets and joins Ethan at the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think–”

“Don’t you dare apologize to me. You’ve been going through enough, I shouldn’t even be burdening you.”

“It’s fine. We shared deathbed confessions, I think I can handle whatever else you throw my way.”

Ethan turns to lock eyes with Naomi, her expression open and earnest. “I meant everything I said in there. I regret putting us on hold, and I’m sorry I wasted so much time.”

Naomi sucks in a deep breath. “Okay. So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I’m done pretending that I don’t have feelings for you. I’m done trying to hold you at arm’s length. I want you, Naomi.”

“Are you feeling like this because I almost died?”

“No. I mean, sure it was a major wake-up call for me, but I’ve felt this way for a long time. The last time you were here, the night of the softball game, I kissed you, and instead of making my intentions known then and there, I put it off, and that almost cost me everything. I don’t have all the answers, because I’m your boss, and people at hospitals like to gossip, but whatever this is, I want to explore it with you.”

Naomi doesn’t say anything, her brain and heart trying to process all of this information. Ethan watches her, his heart pounding wildly. Did he seriously miscalculate her feelings for him? Did he pick the most inopportune moment to drop this on her?

“It took you long enough,” Naomi says.

He laughs, his relief evident and he grabs her hand. “Well I appreciate you having the patience of a saint, Rookie.”

“It’s because I am a saint.”

He runs his thumb along the inside of her wrist, tracing a pattern into the warm skin. The steady thump of her pulse is enough to soothe the anxiety that lingers. She’s here. She’s with him. She’s alive.

His other hand grips the back of her neck, forcing her to look him in the eye. Ethan’s gaze sweeps across her face, his 11 years as a doctor having given him a keen eye for detail. There’s her long, dark eyelashes, her full lips, her pronounced cheekbones, her button nose that crinkles whenever she’s smiling and laughing, a sight he hopes to see again soon. He doesn’t know what emotion is more overwhelming: the relief that she’s alive, or the fear that she was that close to dying.

Ethan is all too aware of the fact that he could’ve lost her. That he and Naomi would never share a quiet moment like this ever again. That she’d never know the full extent of his feelings for her, because he’d been too much of a coward to be honest a long time ago. The thought of the hypothetical makes his insides twist uncomfortably. He can’t dwell on it, not while she’s here, looking to him for comfort.

Without thinking further, his lips slowly collide with hers, pulling the younger woman into a kiss. She wastes no time, kissing him back with an unrivaled fervor that borders on desperation, but Ethan isn’t one to complain. He deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping her mouth until he finds her own.

The kiss sparks something inside of Naomi, a buzz building in the pit of her stomach, so potent and all consuming, it nearly startled her. For the first time in what feels like forever, the rest of the world fades away. It’s just her and Ethan, and this magical little flame between them. So she clings to it, to him, to them, and swings one of her legs over, straddling him. One arm wraps around the back of his neck, one hand tangles in the hair at the nape of his neck as she pulls herself closer. He tastes smoky like the scotch they drank earlier, and she swears the kiss alone is enough to leave her intoxicated.

Desperate for any sort of friction, Naomi rolls her hips into his. She can feel him hardening beneath her, his erection straining through the thin layers of fabric preventing them from being completely bare with each other. Unable to help himself, Ethan breaks the kiss only to let out a low, “Fuck.”

He needs to stop this. Logically, Ethan knows that putting a kibosh in this is the right thing to do. Naomi came to him because she needs a support system, and the last thing he wants to do is take advantage of her trust and manipulate her grief.

“Naomi, stop,” Ethan gently commands, hands gripping her hips in order to keep her still.

“What? What’s wrong?”

“We don’t have to do this tonight,” Ethan says. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“But I don’t want to go to bed.”

“But you should.”

“No. I want this, I want you.”

Her lips are on his jaw, kissing and biting, and it’s becoming harder for him to stay focused. “You’ve had a very long day, it’s been emotionally draining, and I’m sure you’re exhausted–”

“Oh my God, stop!” Naomi exclaims. “I don’t need another person explaining to me what I’m going through or what I’m feeling. Trust me, no one is more aware of my shitty life than I am.” She leans forward resting her forehead against his. “I get it, I’m the one who barely survived an assassination attempt, and I’m going to walk around with that for the rest of my life. For tonight, can I just be a normal girl who wants to fuck her boyfriend, or whatever the hell you are to me? Please?”

Despite the circumstances, his cock twitches almost painfully as soon as the word “boyfriend” leaves her mouth. He’s a grown ass man, he hasn’t used the term since high school, and here he is, ready to dissolve into a puddle of goo. What the hell has Naomi Valentine done to him and who is this mess of a man that she’s replaced him with?

Whatever she’s trying to do won’t work. Pushing aside her grief and trying to avoid the problem with sex isn’t a coping mechanism he’d ever recommend (not that he has any brilliant ones of his own, but still). It’s not going to fix anything in the long run.

Naomi’s lips brush against his before giving him another teasing kiss before pulling away. “Please,” she whines. “I want you, Ethan.” Ethan has always considered himself to be a staunch man who isn’t easily swayed. Until he met Naomi. How can he be when she’s looking at him with those big doe eyes of hers, weakening his otherwise tough resolve? It may not help her tomorrow, but who is he to deny her reprieve at least right now? Saying no to her has never been a strength Ethan claimed to possess.

Not giving any sort of warning, Ethan grips the oversized shirt she’s wearing and forcefully pulls it up, barely giving her enough time to lift her arms and help with the process. Once the piece of clothing is discarded somewhere on his bedroom floor, Ethan flips their positions, Naomi’s back landing on his mattress with a soft thud.

He sucks in a sharp breath. Ethan considers himself to be a well traveled, well cultured man. He’s seen the Eiffel Tower multiple times, visited the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, driven a Ferrari through the streets of Rome, drank wine while overlooking a Napa vineyard, and more. But none of those even comes close to the sight of Naomi naked in his bed, writhing on top of his sheets, her curly hair splayed out like a crown atop her head. She’s absolutely beautiful, and he’s a goner. He’s always known it, but this moment right here, right now actually seals the deal.

“Why don’t you take a picture?” Naomi asks, jolting Ethan out of his thoughts. He feels her dainty foot running along the soft cotton of his pajama pants before traveling higher, lightly brushing his side.

He catches her foot, his strong hand wrapping around her ankle, and yanks her forward. “I don’t need to take a picture because the real thing is just fine.” Maintaining eye contact, Ethan presses a line of kisses from her ankle to the inside of her knee, smirking as he feels the goosebumps pop up along the trail he’s set. “God, it really doesn’t take much to get you going, huh?”

“Not when it involves you, no,” Naomi replies.

Ethan drops her leg unceremoniously. His hands wander until they’re hooked into the waistband of her lacy underwear, and he pulls them down quickly, deciding not to make a production of it. A hum of approval leaves his throat when he finds her already soaked for him. He runs a finger along her spreading the wetness around before pressing the single digit into her. “I like that answer.”

Her toes curl at the contact and Naomi grips the sheets beneath her. “Oh, fuck.”

“Christ, you’re tight.”

“It’s been a while,” Naomi admits, panting heavily. “The guy I was into ran off to another continent, and put us on ice.”

Ethan can tell by her tone that she’s merely teasing, but his heart still hammers wildly nonetheless. He wasted so much time, and for what? He slides another finger into her, enjoying the moan she gives him in return. “It appears I have some atoning to do, hmm?”

Naomi nods. “A lot of atoning.”

“Very well.”

She feels him remove his fingers, and nothing makes her head spin more. Lifting herself up by her elbows, Naomi glares down at Ethan. “What are you doing? You can’t just stop!”

“Relax.” Ethan forces Naomi back to her originally flat position. “I think you know better than anyone that I’m going to take good care of you.” She chooses not to respond, because they both know the answer to that is a resounding yes.

He spreads her thighs and Naomi shivers at the gleam in his eyes, positively engraved by the way he looks at her: all lust and hunger. Desperate for Ethan to actually do something, she tilts her hips up, hoping he’ll get the hint.

Ethan chuckles and places an open mouthed kiss on the inside of her thigh. She swears she can feel herself buzzing with anticipation, her insides on fire, and all she wants him to do is just touch her.

When he finally does, she’s shocked she doesn’t combust then and there. Her head tips back and a low groan tumbles from her lips, and her thighs clamp shut so tightly around Ethan’s head, she’d be apologetic if she wasn’t so far gone. Ethan doesn’t skip a beat though, his fingers digging into her thighs and spreading them apart, and then he’s back to his original mission.

Ethan’s tongue glides through her folds with ease, stroking her up and down a few times before closing his mouth around her clit and sucking hard. Her hips fly off the bed and she grinds into him with a reckless abandon she hasn’t felt in a really long time, but Ethan splays a strong hand across her stomach to hold her down, trapping her between him and his bed.

Trying to gain a modicum of power back, Naomi grips a handful of his hair and tugs at it roughly. It’s an action that makes Ethan growl, his mouth vibrating against her.

Her little moans and cries do nothing to help the raging ego Naomi claims he has, instead they only fuel him further. He ups the ante, his two fingers sliding back into her, curling in a come hither motion and pressing repeatedly against the spot that makes her see stars.

He can tell by the vice grip she has on his fingers and the way she’s undulating against him that she’s close. And while he’s content to draw this out for as long as humanly possible, until he’s wrung every little ounce of pleasure from her that he can, Ethan is well aware that the woman occupying his bed doesn’t have that type of patience.

Giving her a bit of reprieve, he takes his mouth off of her, only moving it slightly so he can kiss the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

“God, Ethan.”

“Say my name again, Rookie,” Ethan commands. “I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Naomi obeys without as much as a second thought. It doesn’t take much to get her to say his name again, the word coming out as a shout in between a broken cry. Ethan smirks, satisfied with his work, and his tongue finds her clit, stroking the tiny bundle a few more times until her orgasm zips through her with the intensity of a lightning strike. Her entire body tenses up as Ethan continues to lap at her, as she rides out the aftershocks.

When she’s finally in control of her senses again, the first thing Naomi notices is how absolutely wrecked Ethan looks, eyes red and glossy, mouth and beard soaked, and she wants to do nothing more than kiss him. So she does, grabbing the back of his head and pulling him back on top of her. She can taste herself on his mouth and it makes her moan.

Impatient, Naomi reaches between their bodies and tugs at the waistband of his pants. Ethan receives the message loud and clear, and he breaks the kiss to strip as quickly as he can. She watches as Ethan flings his shirt across the room and kicks off his pajama bottoms. He isn’t the only one with above average observation skills, and she notices the slight tremble in his hands, the anticipation as intense for him as it is for her. She’d be lying if she said reducing this great and powerful man to nothing more than a shaky mess isn’t a turn on. Once his boxers are gone, Naomi looks him up and down, every part of him still as she remembered.

Her eyes zero in on his erection, painfully hard. She wraps her hand around him, stroking firmly. “My my, doctor, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you like me.”

The other four letter L-word rattles around in his brain, begging to be set free, and with more strength than he thought he had, Ethan manages to keep quiet. He’d never forgive himself for such selfishness if he blurted out he loves her in the middle of sex. Naomi has enough to deal with already without that added layer of complexity.

Ethan’s thoughts are interrupted, a sharp hiss passing through his teeth as he feels her tongue languidly glide across the swollen head of his erection before taking him fully in her mouth.

He doesn’t know what will kill him first: how good it feels, or the fact that she’s staring up at him with those fucking Disney princess eyes again, feigning innocence like she’s unaware of exactly what she does to him.

He allows her to get in one more stroke of her tongue before he grabs a fistful of her hair and pulls her away. One of her eyebrows raises in question. “What’s wrong? I was just getting started.”

He drags them back into bed before answering, “I need to be inside you. You can do whatever you want to me afterwards.”

She grins at the promise of a next time. Whatever she wants? “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ramsey.”

“It’s not a threat, it’s a promise,” Ethan assures her.

Naomi feels him, poised at her entrance and she arches backwards, too overly sensitive. Ethan’s hands are back on her hips, holding her in place, and inch by inch, he fills her. They both groan at the sensation, familiar territory but something new entirely. Her hands fly to his back, nails digging into the skin as she’s stretched to maximum capacity, uncaring if she leaves marks.

Ethan is unsure of how long they’ve been like this, but he’s nearly shaking with the restraint it’s taking him to not thrust into her. He drops his head, kissing a line across her collarbone. “Fuck, baby, I need you to let me know when I can move.”

The pet name wasn’t intentional, spilling from Ethan’s lips before he could stop it, but Naomi whimpers regardless. She hooks her legs behind his back, keeping him just as trapped as she is. “Please.”

He moves slowly, partially to give her a chance to adjust to his size, the other reason because he doesn’t want it to be over as quickly as it started. This, being inside of her again, is overwhelming and Ethan can’t believe there was ever a time he thought he could go without.

“You’re incredible,” Ethan compliments.

“Okay, say it again when I’m not in your bed. Like during a team meeting where you’re shooting down my ideas.”

“You are,” Ethan insists.

He thrusts into her again, and Naomi cries out, nails raking at his back. Surely she’s broken skin at this point, but Ethan doesn’t care. He’s never been one for pain in bed, but with Naomi, he’s willing to make an allowance, especially since it leaves way for pleasure. They move in tandem, hips moving against each other, both trying to coax out the release that’s been building. Unable to do much of anything else, Ethan leans forward, kissing Naomi again. She meets him halfway, just as eager as he is.

Eventually she has to break the kiss, and she gasps in a large breath of air, her lungs constricting tightly in her rib cage. In her distracted moment, Ethan manages to free himself of her hands marking him relentlessly, and he captures both of her wrists in one fell swoop. He holds them above her head in one hand, pressing her as deep into the mattress as possible. The new angle catches her by surprise and she can’t do anything but gasp into the air above her.

“Please.” She doesn’t even know what she’s pleading for at this point, but it’s the only word her brain can comprehend so she chants it repeatedly like a prayer until she’s shattering around him, mouth open, head tipped back, skin flush and warm. She’s perfect like this, Ethan surmises.

It doesn’t take him more than a few more thrusts before Ethan’s own release takes control and he falls forward, leaning some of his weight onto Naomi. He doesn’t trust himself to not say or do something completely stupid, so he buries his face in the crook of her neck, biting down on the sensitive flesh.

It could’ve been mere minutes that they spent in that position, or it could’ve been hours for all Naomi knows, but when Ethan finally pulls out, he’s kissing her all over: her cheeks, her nose, her forehead.

He wraps her in a solid embrace, arms circling around her and holding her close, their erratic heart rates trying to slow down. Ethan feels at peace doing just this, holding her close to him, feeling the rise and fall of her chest.

Do you feel any better?”

That isn’t a question Naomi expects to hear right after sex, and it causes her to pause. After a few more moments of silence, she answers, “I mean, the endorphin release was great if that’s what you’re asking.”

“It’s not what I’m asking, and you know it.”

Naomi knew going into it that the sex wasn’t going to soothe all of her hurts and be the magical solution to her problems, so she doesn’t need some major “I-told-you-so” moment from him. But for the first time in almost a week, she feels like herself again. Within the confines of these four walls, Ethan didn’t treat her like some fragile little doll, and her mind was able to take a break from overthinking.

“It was nice to turn my brain off, if only for a short time,” Naomi replies. “It was nice to not be a captive to my trauma.”

Ethan’s fingers gently graze her scalp, massaging. “Do you think you’re ready to talk to me now?”

“No.”

She’s as stubborn as ever. “Fair enough. But if we were to talk about it, I would say that you went through something horrible and traumatic, and you have to allow yourself to actually feel and process whatever emotions you have. I’d also say that you are incredibly strong, but your strength doesn’t mean that you have to bottle everything inside in order to make everyone around you feel better, especially when you’re with me. Strong people have the right to be vulnerable too.” Ethan sighs. “But since we aren’t talking about it, I’m not going to say any of those things.”

Naomi curls in closer to Ethan, comforted by his body warmth. “I think I would really enjoy hearing those things if this was a conversation we were having.”

“Good. Now whenever you’re ready to talk, I’ll be prepared.”

“Thank you.”

“I think it’s what good boyfriends do. Or whatever the hell I am to you. That’s what you said, right?”

“Okay, I have an explanation for getting agitated about the technical definition of our relationship.”

“Oh yeah? I’d love to hear it.”

“I was impatient and horny.”

Ethan laughs, the warm and rich sound curling around her insides. It does more to help than she’ll ever be able to convey to him. “You’re also very honest.”

“To a fault at times, yes.”

A silence settled between them again, and Naomi feels her eyelids getting heavier. Maybe she’ll be able to finally get some real sleep, not the fitful unconsciousness she’s been subjected to for the past few days.

“Thank you for indulging me tonight,” Naomi says.

He’s going to suggest she talk to a therapist. He’s going to say it multiple times, until he’s blue in the face and she’s tired of listening. But he'll leave her alone for tonight.

“You’re welcome. Now, get some sleep. The sooner you get to bed, the sooner we wake up, and I can cook breakfast for you.”

“Mhmm, sounds like a plan, Ramsey.”

Ethan can feel her falling asleep on him. He presses a kiss into her forehead. “Naomi?”

“Hmm?”

“For the record, I am definitely your boyfriend.”

~v~

tags: @maurine07 @aka-calliope @edgiestwinter @soft-for-drake @greenbean-kylie @akshara16 @mrsramseyy @honeyandsunfl0wers @blossomanarchy @takemyopenheart @fanmantrashcan @whatchique @ao719 @x-kyne-x @colourmeshy @paulfwesley @writinghereandthere @ramseyandrys @perriewinklenerdie @aworldoffandoms @thatcatlady0716 @drakewalker04 @canknot @hatescapsicum @lapisreviewsstuff @senseofduties @badchoicesposts @ethandaddyramsey @chasingrobbie @zodiacsign1 @choices-lurker @trappedinfandoms @my-heart-beats-for-ya @adrian-motherfucking-raines @riverrune @edith-eggs1 @thatysn @bellcat2010 @theeccentricbibliophile @cecilecontrera @junehiratas @choices-love-affair @openheart12 @caseyvalentineramsey @desmaranj @nazario-sayeed @aestheticartsx @ruinedbypixels @mvalentine @nooruleman @rookie-ramsey

#open heart #open heart 2 #ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethan x mc #ns*fw #ns/fw

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emy-loves-you · 3 years ago

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(Slightly) Less Useless, (Definitely) Gayer Chapter 8

Interrogations

Janus doesn’t get a lot of time to be alone with Virgil’s boyfriends, but it’s those few moments that truly count.

Chapter 7 | Masterlist | Chapter 9

Janus Williams was a busy man. He was the CEO of Hydra Hydraulics, and even with Thomas as their manager, Janus made sure to have a say in the financial and legal dealings of The Dark Sides. When he wasn’t working, Janus was spending time with Remus and/or Virgil. Because of this, Janus didn’t have many personal hobbies, nor did he have enough time to properly interrogate Virgil’s boyfriends. Even though the four of them had been living together for over a month (and dating for 3), Janus still did not fully trust the three men who claimed to love Virgil. Sure, his suspicions had significantly lessened since he first spoke to Logan all of those months ago. But if there was one thing that Janus learned from his parents, it was that people can have multiple faces, some of which they’re not even aware of possessing. Janus frequently flipped through multiple faces like they were simple party masks. He was harsh and unyielding when dealing with Hydra Hydraulics. He was sly and mysterious when playing as Deceit. He was sarcastic yet caring when interacting with Virgil and Remus. He was vulnerable and completely head-over-heels when he kissed Remus behind closed doors.

Janus knew about people being two-faced or even three-faces (hell, Janus himself was four-faced), and he suspected that Virgil’s boyfriends weren’t all that they seemed. There had to be something that he didn’t know. And Janus was going to find out what it was.

And if those faces had the potential to hurt Virgil?

Well, Mother and Father taught him to always have a fifth face, just in case.

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Janus sighed as he changed out of his suit. He’d spent the past few hours dealing with stupid employees, and right now he wanted nothing more than to relax and watch some shitty romcoms. Normally he’d watch them with Remus and Virgil, but both of them were busy. Remus was doing something with Roman (some sort of spa day?) and Virgil was spending the day with Logan and Patton.

Just as Janus sat down with his snake-themed pajamas and face mask (because self-care is necessary) his phone went off. Janus sighed, expecting it to be one of the supervisors with a stupid question. He blinked when he saw the caller ID.

Patton Morale

Even though Janus had given Virgil’s boyfriends his number (in case there’s an emergency) he didn’t actually expect Patton to text him. Janus quickly unlocked his phone and read the text.

P- (3:46 PM) Hey, Janus! Are you busy right now?

P- (3:46 PM) You don’t have to respond if you’re busy! I was just wondering

Janus frowned at the texts. This sounded nothing like Patton’s happy, quirky self. He sounded like Virgil back before he’d gotten close to Janus. While he was mainly sarcastic and rude, there were times where he was really anxious and vulnerable. Janus decided to answer truthfully.

J- (3:47 PM) I am doing nothing important at the moment. What do you need?

P- (3:47 PM) Oh, I was just wondering if you wanted to bake some cupcakes today. I know how happy you were when you made breakfast for Remus, and I thought baking would be fun!

J- (3:47 PM) Would you prefer to do this at my house or Virgil’s? While I have a bigger kitchen and better cooking supplies, I don’t believe I have most of the ingredients.

P- (3:48 PM) Your house is fine! I’ll bring the ingredients over

J- (3:48 PM) Then I will see you when you arrive

Janus sighed as he turned off the TV. He then went upstairs to change into something more presentable. Sure, he was skipping his self-care day, but this was the perfect opportunity to learn more about Patton.

Fifteen minutes later, Patton stood in his doorway, multiple bags of ingredients in each hand. “I thought we could try different types of cupcakes,” Patton explained as Janus took a few bags to carry. “I have the ingredients for vanilla, chocolate, and red velvet. Plus, I thought we could make some homemade frosting!”

When they prepared the first batch of cupcakes (vanilla), Janus was silent as Patton led him through each step. When they got those in the oven, they decided to prepare the chocolate cupcake batter next. Janus didn’t notice any major changes in Patton’s behavior until they put the chocolate cupcakes in the oven and let the vanilla cupcakes cool. Janus made the red velvet batter on his own while Patton made the icing for the vanilla cupcakes. Patton had started humming a tune under his breath as he stirred the icing. It took Janus a moment to realize that he was humming the tune of Lies, one of Janus’ songs. Janus had to admit, Patton was good at humming the lyrics. Patton hit all of the muffled notes, and even paused for the right amount of time instead of skipping it. Janus smiled as he hummed along, making sure to keep his voice low. It took a few minutes for Patton to realize that he was duetting.

Patton yelped as he dropped his spoon. “Sorry, I didn’t even realize I was humming! That must’ve been really annoying. I’m sorry, I’ll stop rambling now.”

Janus frowned. “Patton, you weren’t annoying me. I was humming along. I’m a rock star, it was flattering to hear you hum my song. And you have a lovely voice.”

Patton blushed, but there was something else in his eyes. “T-thanks.” He turned back to the icing, and Janus let it go.

There were several instances after that where Patton would move to do something fun or silly and stop halfway through. He would hum the first few words of a song before going dead silent. He would move as if to twirl or do a grand hand gesture before stopping abruptly. He would open his mouth to (Janus assumed) give a cheesy pun, but no sound would come out. Every time, Janus would let it slide. He assumed that Patton was still embarrassed over the humming incident.

But the final nail in the coffin came when Patton went to get the chocolate cupcakes out and caught his arm in the oven. He yelped and Janus immediately ran over to reopen the oven. Patton quickly pulled his arm out, still gripping the cupcake tray. He sat the tray down on the stove while Janus moved to check his injuries. Patton immediately shied away. “I’m fine, just clumsy ol’ Patton!” He started mumbling to himself. “Stupid, clumsy Patton.”

Janus grabbed Patton’s wrist, forcing him to face Janus. Janus turned off the oven before leading Patton to the nearest bathroom, where he knew a medkit was. He knew enough about burn injuries from the few times Virgil or Remus would burn themselves. Patton had a nasty looking burn along his forearm, which Janus treated to the best of his ability. After a few minutes, Janus spoke up. “What’s wrong? Besides the burn, of course.”

Patton stared for a moment before smiling. “Nothing’s wrong, silly! Why would anything be wrong?” Janus could practically taste the lie.

“You’ve been acting odd all day. Did something happen?”

Patton shook his head. “No! Nothing’s happened. I promise.” Janus frowned but conceded, refocusing on the bandages. Patton seemed to be telling the truth, but Janus would talk to Virgil about it, just in case.

Later, Janus and Patton were icing the chocolate cupcakes. They had decided not to make the red velvet cupcakes, and the batter was sitting in the fridge. Patton was silent as he meticulously iced each cupcake. Janus was sneaking glances every few minutes, trying to figure out if the silence was from their earlier conversation or if Patton was naturally silent when he iced cupcakes.

Patton’s hands suddenly shook a little, and Janus watched as he made an uneven pattern on the cupcake. Nobody would even notice or care, but it seemed to make Patton’s shaking worse. “S-sorry.” Patton stuttered out, and Janus suddenly realized that Patton was crying.

Janus carefully grabbed Patton’s chin with two fingers and forced him to face Janus. Patton’s eyes remained glued to his hands. “Patton, please look at me.” It took a moment, but Patton slowly looked up into Janus’ eyes, and his entire body started shaking. “Patton, tell me what’s wrong.”

Patton took a shaky breath. “I-I’m fine, really.” When Janus didn’t let go of his chin, Patton caved in. “It’s just… some days there’s a not-so-nice voice in my head. I’ve always had it, and I don’t like being alone when the voice gets loud. Usually, I’ll have one of the others there to keep me company. But Ro’s spending time with Ree, and Lo is on a date with Virgil. I thought I could spend the day with you, but all I’ve done is make you worry and I’m so sorry you have to deal with me-”

Janus tightened his grip on Patton’s chin, and Patton stopped talking. Janus took a moment to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I… have a not-so-nice voice as well.” Patton’s eyes widened, and Janus took that as a sign to continue. “My parents weren’t good people. It took a lot of convincing on Virgil’s part for me to realize that they were hurting me. Not physically, but mentally and emotionally. Some days I hear a voice telling me that they were right. It tells me that I’m worthless, and it tells me to do things that I know I shouldn’t do. On the days around my birthday they get really loud, and I can’t hear anything else. Remus and Virgil have to keep a constant eye on me or I’ll do something I’ll regret. That’s how I got this scar.” Patton’s eyes immediately go to the scar on Janus’ face. “I had just wanted the voices to be quiet, but they only got louder-”

“But you have a reason to have voices!” Janus looked back at Patton, who was still crying. “You were hurt! I wasn’t! My voice has always been there, and I’ve never had anything really bad happen to me. I have three amazing boyfriends and the job of my dreams! I don’t have a reason to feel like this! I’m just weak and stupid-”

“Stop.” Patton’s mouth snapped shut. “Just because you don’t have any trauma, does not mean that your voices are any less important than mine. They’re still there, and you came to me because you knew you shouldn’t be alone with just the voice. And the fact that you trusted me enough to come to me and tell me this… It means you're very brave, Patton. And I am honored that you trust me like that. And if you ever need me to help distract you from those thoughts, or if you just want to hang out, don’t be afraid to reach out.” He carefully took the icing bag from Patton’s shaky hands. “Now, why don’t we leave these here for a moment? I’ve found that making fun of shitty romcoms can really cheer people up.”

Patton nodded, tears still streaming down his face. “That sounds like fun.”

They entered the living room, and Janus suddenly realized that their clothes were covered in flour and other baking ingredients. “Come with me.” He led Patton upstairs and past his own room to another door. “This used to be Virgil’s room before he moved out, but he keeps a few sets of clothes in here for when he stays over.”

Patton frowned. “Janus, I’m quite a bit… wider than Virgil.” He blushed as he half-heartedly gestured to his own body.

Janus smiled softly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. And besides, Virgil prefers looser clothing, so I’m sure the clothes in here will fit you. Plus, I’m sure Virgil would appreciate seeing you in his clothes.” He saw Patton blush harder and smirked. He opened one of the drawers and picked out a baggy t-shirt and some sweatpants. “Put these on, and be careful of your bandages. I’ll change in my room, and we’ll meet downstairs. We’ll watch romcoms and give each other facials while we eat cupcakes. Does that sound reasonable?” Patton nodded. “Good, I’ll see you then.”

As Janus put on his snake pajamas for the second time that day, he contemplated the man in the other room. Janus had been afraid that Patton was secretly manipulative behind his caring persona, but he couldn’t have been further from the truth. Because under the face of bubbly joy and compassion, Patton was an injured soul, just like Janus.

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Bzzz. Bzzz. Bzzz.

Janus looked up from his philosophy book to look at Logan, who was reading a similar philosophy book. The two of them were alone in Janus’ library. Patton and Roman were both working, and Remus had dragged Virgil to some event going on downtown. Janus and Logan had no new information to share (*cough* gossip *cough*) so the two of them were enjoying each other’s company while reading. However, Logan’s phone had just started vibrating. Janus watched from the corner of his eye as Logan read the texts with a small smile on his face before answering.

“Did one of your boyfriends just text you?” Logan jumped slightly, apparently forgetting that Janus was in the room. He shook his head.

“No, it was just Sam. They’re my friend and classmate. I’m sure you’ve heard of Patton’s employee Katherine?” Janus nodded, remembering the stories that Virgil would tell about his interactions with Patton and Katherine (or Kyle, depending on the day). “The two of them have been in a romantic relationship for several years. Sam was just asking me for my opinion on where their next date should take place. They tend to overthink things a lot, and it can be amusing to read their mile-long text about how much they want this to be perfect for Katherine.”

Janus nodded before realizing something. “You said that Sam is also your classmate? I know you go to the local college, but what are you studying?”

Logan blushed. “Astronomy, along with a few classes in public speech and teaching. I wish to work at the local planetarium.”

Janus frowned. “You’re taking those classes, plus you bought a house and Patton’s bakery?”

Logan nodded. “We’ve taken out several large loans over the years. We’ve paid off the house loan and most of the loan for Patton’s bakery, but we’re still paying off the loans for my schooling.” He turned back to the book, and Janus blinked in surprise.

“You do know that we would help you pay for those loans, correct?”

Logan stared for a moment. “But they’re my loans. It’s my responsibility to pay them off. And ever since we started living with Virgil and no longer have to pay for housing, we’ve had more money saved up to pay them off.”

Janus’ eyebrows furrowed. “You deal with the finances too? I assumed that was something Patton dealt with.”

Logan shook his head. “I deal with all of our budgets and our daily schedules. The others tend to forget how much money or energy they are spending, so I have to be the one to ‘reel them in.’”

Janus pressed on. “Along with your college education and your job at the library? How do you have time for anything?” He knew he was a hypocrite for saying this, but Janus needed to know. Was Logan some sort of perfectionist, who needed to be in control of everything? Or maybe he didn’t actually do half of this, and he was lying? No, he couldn’t be lying. Janus was pretty good at telling when someone was lying, and Logan seemed pretty truthful.

Logan sighed. “In all honesty, I don’t. Every moment of my day is mapped out to make life easier for me and my partners. Today was supposed to be used to spend time with Virgil, but I understand he hasn’t had any personal time with Remus lately. Still, their planning was so sudden that I now have nothing to do for the next few hours, and it makes me feel… inadequate.”

Janus nodded, finally understanding. “You feel as though you must use your actions to prove your worth as a person and boyfriend. And when there is no action to be performed, you feel as though you failed. That’s why you keep yourself busy.” Logan nodded, and Janus sighed. “I keep myself busy for a similar reason. I do so to prove that I am more than what I was taught to be. I am a CEO, and a singer, and a friend, and a boyfriend. Not just a conniving snake or a whiny brat. I have a purpose, and I sometimes feel inadequacy when I’m not actively fulfilling it.” He set down his philosophy book, having lost the intention of continuing. “But Logan, you don’t need to spend every moment of your life proving yourself. I know for a fact that you could ask for just about anything, and Virgil would bend over backwards to make it happen. Because he loves you for you, not for your actions or your purpose. He loves you for your intelligence, and your love of sweets, and your desire to debate. He loves the way you scrunch your nose when he says or does something odd. He loves the fond exasperation you have every time he or Patton or Roman show grand displays of affection.”

Logan blinked, his mouth hanging open slightly. “He… does?”

Janus nodded. “Yes, he does. He tells me this almost every day. Every moment he’s not with you three, he’s thinking about you. He’ll go on for hours about how much the three of you mean to him. And Logan,” Logan blinked again. “Just because you like to be busy, doesn’t mean that you can’t rely on others. Physically, mentally, emotionally or financially. Virgil will do anything for you, and I’m willing to pull a few strings for someone who can make Virgil smile as bright as he has been over the past year.” Was Janus being a hypocrite about asking for help? Yes. Did Logan know this? Maybe, Janus couldn’t tell. But it didn’t really matter at the moment, as the two of them shared a smile before turning back to their books. Janus was happy to note that Logan’s posture was much more relaxed, and he seemed more interested in the book.

Janus smiled as he read his book. He had feared that Logan was cold and controlling. But behind his face of diligence and intelligence, Logan was a tired soul, just like Janus.

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“Roman, please tell me those swords aren’t real.”

Roman scoffed, twirling one of the swords in his hand. “No, but they’re authentic enough to be fun to spar with. So, do you wanna spar?”

Janus stared at the swords in Roman’s hands. They looked like fencing swords, with white and black hilts respectively. “And why do you wish to fence with me?” Roman had specifically asked Janus to meet him at Virgil’s house for this. He was the only one home at the time, so it was just the two of them in the backyard.

Roman sighed. “Because no one else would say yes and if I asked Remus he would find a way to turn it into a fight to the near-death.” He smirked. “Besides, imagine how hot you would look to Remus if you could fight with a sword.”

Janus sighed, taking off his coat and hat. “You’re not going to let me say no, are you?”

Roman smiled as he handed over one of the swords. “Nope! Now, here’s what you’ve gotta do.” Roman talked Janus through the proper stances and how to hold his sword.

After a few minutes of practicing, Janus asked the question that had been on his mind for a while. “Roman, where did you find these swords? And how do you know how to fence?”

Roman shrugged. “Since I’m friends with the owner, I’m allowed to keep a lot of the props from our plays. We just finished one that included a fencing scene. The other actress and I were given lessons on how to fence so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves.” He laughed, and Janus suddenly felt a chill go down his spine. “And now that I’ve given you equal footing.” He began moving his sword with much more speed and precision, and Janus struggled to block. Even though Janus knew that the sword couldn’t harm him too badly, seeing Roman like this made Janus’ defences kick into overdrive. “Now is the perfect time to ask about your intentions with my brother.”

Janus struggled to even comprehend the question as he blocked the blows. “What?”

Roman laughed again, letting up for a moment. “You heard what I said. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus huffed. “What are your intentions with Virgil?”

Roman smiled as he continued striking with his sword. “My goal is to make my boyfriends feel just as much love as they make me feel. If they ever feel like my love for them is waning or falsified, then I have failed.” He put all of his force into the next swing, and Janus could no longer hold onto his own sword as it was knocked out of his hand. “But you dodged the question. What are your intentions with my brother?”

Janus then realized something. “You’re his next of kin.”

Roman frowned tilting his head. “Yes? What does that have to do with your intentions?”

Janus sighed, nearly slouching with relief. “My family has always been a stickler for traditions. While most of those traditions are homophobic or mysogynistic, there are a few that still mean a lot to me. One of them is getting permission from parents. All of my family is dead, so I only needed permission on Remus’ side. I told his parents of my intentions, but I was unable to get their permission. I’ve been spending the past few weeks wondering what I would do since I didn’t have their permission, but the two of you essentially disowned your parents. So naturally, permission would go to next of kin-”

“Janus!” Janus’ eyes snapped to meet Roman’s, and Janus suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating. “Look at me. In for four, hold for seven, out for eight. Match my breathing.” Janus forced himself to calm as he matched Roman’s breathing. Why was he so nervous? He had been completely calm and collected when talking to Mr and Mrs Prince. So why was this so much more special?

Because Remus cares about Roman. Virgil cares about Roman. Roman had the ability to take away everyone that Janus had.

“Janus, look at me.” Janus tried to focus on Roman’s voice. “I know you’d never intentionally hurt my brother. Whatever you’re trying to say, I’m sure it’ll be fine. Just calm down, collect your thoughts, and let it out.”

Janus did just that. He took a deep breath, collected his thoughts, and let it out. “I’m asking for permission to marry your brother.” There was silence. Janus tried to figure out what Roman was thinking, but his face was impassive. “Roman?”

“Does Remus know?”

Janus swallowed before shaking his head. “No, Remus doesn’t know. I’ve been worrying myself out of my mind for a while now. Besides, the four of you have provided enough chaos over the past few months. I wanted to wait until things calmed down before proposing.”

Roman pressed the tip of the sword to Janus’ neck. “If you so much as think about hurting Remus, I will make you suffer a pain worse than death. I just got my brother back, and I’m not losing him to anyone.”

Janus closed his eyes. “If I ever hurt Remus in any way, I would wish for nothing more than to suffer for eternity.”

There was a moment of silence before the sword was removed. A hand was put on Janus’ shoulders and he suppressed a flinch. “I trust you.”

Janus’ eyes snapped open to meet Roman’s. His face showed nothing but compassion, a big difference from Janus’ shock. “What?”

Roman smiled. “You say you never wish to harm Remus, and I trust you. You have my blessing.” He leaned down and picked up Janus’ sword from the ground. “Would you like a rematch? And perhaps some assistance in proposing?”

Janus gave a shaky smile, accepting the sword. “Yes, to both.”

Janus smiled as he clashed swords with his future fiance’s brother. Janus had assumed that he was aggressive, like he’d shown himself to be in other instances. But behind the face of cockiness and pride, Roman was a protective soul, just like Janus.

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@itawalrus @arodynamic-enby @whatishappeningrightnow @idont-freaking-know @cute-and-angsty-prince @girl-who-reads @count-woe-laf @im-an-anxious-wreck @ent-is-undecisive @shadowylemon @stopthe-presses @the-sympathetic-villain @echo-goes-aaa @everythingisstardust

#Sanders Sides Fic #Useless Gays #Janus Sanders #Patton Sanders #Logan Sanders #Roman Sanders

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artsninspo · 4 years ago

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EXCUSE ME MISS - II

Masterlist

Part I

AUTHORS NOTE: Soooo, I felt like the vibes were incomplete, there were no private jets, cars, no major black girl luxury moments (they’re coming). I’m going to try to wrap this one up in 5 parts.

SUMMARY: Anon requested one with Trevante and the Reader based on the Jay-Z and Pharrell Excuse Me Miss video. So, I decided to have some fun with it.

PAIRING: Trevante x Reader, Erik x Reader

---

The light streams into the room, beams slipping through sheer white curtains.

There’s a peace to this morning, no alarms, no rushing up and down the stairs – just the faint sweet smell of pancakes and the sounds of Chels’ cheffing playlist. You find yourself smiling, letting your body sink into the plush bed surrendering to the relaxation. Slow living brings you so much joy.

You smile in appreciation of all the finishes you diligently put into HQ, like the bath and rain shower. Putting a few drops of essential oil into your diffuser as you take a shower starting on an intricate face routine much neglected over the past few months.

The door opens and Robin smiles, her full lips and bright eyes sparkle.

“It’s nice isn’t it” she smiles handing you a cup of her infamous hot chocolate and sitting on the counter.

“Its paradise” you in the feeling of stillness.

“It’s been too long”

“It has” you agree with my eyes closed at the memory of life always being so sweet.

“Imagine if we could go shopping and get massages then eat at the mansion or rent a boat for the afternoon and work on our tans” Bella smiles entering your bathroom and the three of you stand there smiling with closed eyes.

“Soon” you sigh hopefully.

“Breakfast is ready” Chels says entering with a smile.

The vibe is so right you all walk into a group hug happy and hopeful. Last night had gone off without a hitch, each of you employing the necessary tactics to make the most of the big spenders. Best of all they wouldn’t miss the change they spent to have a good time. The four of you had been working yourselves to the bone for too long.

“Let’s eat!” Bella says leaving the bathroom first you file out until Chels stops you. The other girls go along and Chels takes an envelope out of her pocket.

“Erik’s payment for this month, it’s all there”

“Thanks”

Chels smiles before you can, you both laugh a little before hugging away all the tension and bad blood caused by the financial stresses resulting from Chelsea’s bad decisions. Everything’s a little less contentious now that she’s finally over her depression about it and outing in just as much effort as everyone else to right the wrong. It’s even better when you all enjoy her gourmet breakfast. We all clean together enjoying the morning and each other’s company for the first time in what feels like forever.

“We’re, ten grand away from paying off the balance on the house we owe in arears” Robin says making everyone smile at the good news.

“I’ll try to sell some more bags” Chelsea offer’s but her style is so loud she has a lot of trouble ridding herself of her favorite pieces.

Bells smiles, “I’ll take on some extra hours at the shop, try to get in higher paying clients – up the ante on social media hopefully it brings us in some business”

“Ill keep scouting out more opportunities” Robin adds.

“How much do we owe Erik?” Bella asks and I do the calculations closing my eyes out of stress and irritation at the realization.

“50k” the response leaves everyone equally demoralized but the doom and gloom only lasts a moment before the bass of loud music and the purr of a luxury car is in within earshot of the house.

“Speak of the fucking devil” Chels grits.

Erik hops out of his black McLaren in Nike sweatpants and a matching t-shirt his hair is braided into a style freshly cut and relocked. His eyes smile when he sees me outside which is never a good sign. He’s like a predator, baring teeth isn’t a sign of docility.

“Hey baby” he taunts coming in for a kiss only to be pushed back. “Be nice, you owe me money” he responds reaching for the door behind you only to be stopped. “Why aren’t you at work? Your hairs freshly done too” he smiles running his hands through my silk press to work my nerves.

“Erik stop” I whisper, and he steps back finally swallowing.

“You have fun yesterday?” he asks.

Of course, he knows you think to yourself. It isn’t the late payment or genuine concern for your well-being it’s his ego.

“I’m twenty-five Erik I should be able to have some fun”

“Well since you’re not going to work, owe me money and don’t want me in the house – get your stuff”

“Pardon me?”

“What now you have a problem dressing sexy to get attention and get paid, I have a job for you” He says heading back into his car. “Don’t take long I’m not in the mood”

Just like that the perfect morning is ruined by your asshole ex. You head into the house to the girls waiting apprehensively.

“I’ll be back, he knows about last night, don’t make any moves with the” I pause mouthing MONEY before getting my purse and heading out before he gets too antsy. He opens the door for me letting me in the car.

Erik and I have history.

Not all the good kind.

He pulls off taking the freeway to his side of town. I take note of his sleepy expression, the slight bags under his eyes, his casual outfit and his irritation says he’s back from a job. He’s probably been up for at least 48 hours, definitely been traveling.

“So, if you just got back who squealed on me?”

Erik smiles at how well we know each other, “Doesn’t matter I run security at Onyx now”.

That’s a new development

“I don’t know how you make time for it all. The expansion, the odd jobs, keeping tabs on me”

“I prioritize what’s important” he mocks me kissing my hand. You shoot him a look that warns against his actions but it’s no use. The worst part about all of this is that you still find him attractive. If he had it in him to promise you, he was done with all the other women and that he could be a one woman man – you don’t think you could resist giving a relationship another shot.

“So, what’s the job?”

“The usual you go somewhere looking pretty, this time you’ll be sitting beside me, shouldn’t be too hard, Babydoll”

Erik was your first real boyfriend and there was nothing traditional or normal about your relationship. You were working at a strip club and Erik was a regular. He was insatiable and the entire club lit up when he’d come in. It was clear despite spending the money he wasn’t a trick. There were countless fights over him, and he thrived on the contention. He spent quite a lot of time at the bar with you trying to find your price for a private dance, or date or a little more. Unfortunately, you werent’t repulsed by a man who chose to spend his free time in the club watching naked women. You liked the attention. Erik was attentive, unlike the others. He realized that you kept things flowing. Spotted the big spenders and sent the girls to them. With smiles and little gestures, I kept the money flowing like an expert. Babydoll was a champ whose position wasn’t shaking her ass.

“Whatever Erik”

“How much y’all rake in last night? Y’all out of hot water yet or you still close to needing to move back home. You know I left your room and closet how you left it?” Erik has no business being such an asshole. The only thing I ever did to him was leave and cut all communication. He’s the one who was sleeping with other women and telling me they meant nothing. He starts laughing when he sees that I’m frustrated with him.

“You shouldn’t treat me like this” I snap tired of it, tired of the constant provocation.

“Fuck you!” He snaps aggressively. “Fuck you, Y/N” he repeats telling me to shut up. He’s exhausted and furious about my activities last night barely holding it together. “You owe me money. You tell me to fuck off, then a year and a half later you call me crying. Chels stole from you not me. You didn’t give me a happy birthday check on me nothing. I bailed her dumbass out a year ago right, took care of it FOR YOU!” he barks not looking at the road. “Then you treat me like I ain’t shit when you can’t even pay up consistently. I could put to work everyday until its paid off but I don’t. So shut the fuck up and grow up” he finishes with flared nostrils, his dark eyes a blaze waiting for me to challenge him.

I don’t, knowing when to pick my battles, “No one put a gun to your head, you didn’t have to, if you didn’t want to” I swallow.

His jaw clenches at the truth and he doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of the drive. He opens the garage when we pull up like he’s done a thousand times when we were good. Its nostalgic and this place still feels like home when it shouldn’t. The house has a few new upgrades. It’s still immaculate and our puppy runs to me all grown up now. He heads upstairs and I follow to my old room seeing my outfit ready on a clothing rack. You look around trying not to be overwhelmed by the memories. Erik never said no when your first moved in, he was your boss and he took great care of you. Life was easy, the responsibilities were minimal. About 10% work, 10% housekeeping, 60% having fun with the girls and 20% Erik because of his demanding schedule. It was perfect.

“I’m going to be away for the next month – don’t want you out here looking desperate”

“Month is a long job”

“Don’t act like you care” he says and it’s an insult. The problem is I care too much. His jaw clenches he’s angry with me for leaving still. “Benny will be here in an hour to do your hair and make-up” he sighs stepping closer. The anger fading as he eyes my lips. It’s like he scolds himself secretly like he decides against something before surrendering to lust. We both know better.

His left hand holds my side and his right guides my head back supporting my neck as his lips kiss mine. You can’t resist the temptation and deepen the kiss. It turns him on and kisses grow more and more assertive as he tries reclaiming what’s his. You both rush to nakedness. Your eyes glance over the new keloids covering his chest. His eyes fall in self-consciousness but there’s no room for judgement as his hand traces the covered tattoo of his initials under your breasts before he takes one, kissing them both.

Straddling him your hands hold his shoulders before lowering onto his manhood as your body yearns for him. There’s no shame in taking what you want. Erik had taught you that but it’s too much to watch him, watch you ride out the waves of pleasure. Your eyes close in the rapture of pleasure holding on for better control as you contract on his manhood making his grip tighten guiding your hips in a new rhythm. No longer face to face you embrace each other breathing heavily in each other’s ears as you both begin to glow.

Erik moves from the seat to the bed peppering kisses down your back before taking you from behind. Your breaths are even more shallow as you feel his frustration, anger and resentment with every stroke.

Hate-fucking.

Its lovely. Your eyes close as your teeth sink into your bottom lip in efforts to contain the moans of pleasure threatening to escape. His ego doesn’t need further sustenance. He grabs your neck reliving you of being on all fours as he strokes to his climax filling your vigorously, recklessly, intentionally. He doesn’t lose his strength as your body goes limp, guiding you both onto the bed to lay and catch your breath.

If things were different this would only be round one of many. You’d trace the keloids on his chest, kissing them, he’d hold you, running his fingers along your back.

It wouldn’t be so empty as you get up padding to the bathroom to pee. You’d be on birth control, not having to make a mental note for a plan B. Some sweet thoughtful gesture would follow not relief when you hear him leave the room heading into the master bedroom.

You sigh turning on the shower.

He hadn’t changed a thing.

….

I sit through hair and make-up with Benny and the nostalgia is a little too much as you laugh and talk like you’re still a kept woman with no worries, that couldn’t be further from the current reality.

“Are you still writing, anything I should check out? Ideas I should run by clients? Research?” He asks invested my career and progression.

“No” I swallow, and his smile falls as he looks at my reflection.

“It’ll return Y/N. Remember, no matter what you can’t kill an artist’s talent, but practice and action make masters” he smiles a pillar of wisdom.

“Thank you, Benson,” you kiss his cheek and he nods finished. You look better than you did last night.

“Tell Bella I’ll be holding classes again; I want her to take my south-eastern slot” he reminds packing up.

“I will” you smile gutted that we can’t afford our dreams right now.

You get dressed in the teenie tiny mini dress that has a circle lace up detail on the sides, you admire the vision of 90’s video girl, glam hoochie. Twirling in the mirror you admire your look, feeling sexy again. Browsing your closet to find a high-end bag to match the outfit. You were so mad when you decided to leave, you didn’t want anything to do with Erik not even the gifts he’d purchased.

You make a pick and turn to find Erik watching you in the doorway. There’s a hint of happiness in his eyes seeing you here but there’s also a danger to him. He definitely has something up his sleeve. Besides enough nostalgia to make you reconsider being his girl again.

“You look perfect” he smiles kissing your forehead.

Taking your hand, you leave in another car and end up at a venue that you’ve never been too. Erik holds your hand as you walk through the outdoor venue before entering private cabana’s. He stops suddenly stepping behind you so he can guide your steps forward. Your heart slows in apprehension not trusting him. Your heart races when you close in on a man that looks familiar, dark chocolate skin, and a beard. He looks up sensing us and its Trevante. You swallow feeling yourself and so does Erik.

“You really think you were gonna fuck me over this easy. Milk him and walk away from me forever?” Erik says into my ear. My blood boils as Tre looks at us confused. I try to smile.

“Erik” Tre smiles.

“Tre, this is my girl Y/N, Y/N Tre, we go way back” Erik swallows looking me over. “And were working together” Erik smiles like he’s a good guy – not the cold-hearted insufferable asshole that he is. You’re so mad you could make a scene, knowing Erik that’s just the kind of embarrassment Erik is hoping for to further bury any prospects of you and Tre.

“Hi” I manage and Erik smiles at the hoarseness of my voice.

“What you want a long island, Tre want anything?” he asks his friend.

“I’m good bro” he responds and Erik stands leaving the two of us. You look at Tre who also looks at me like I’ve done something wrong. You turn to see Erik at the bar flirting with the bartender too dizzy to know which path to take in such a fucked situation.

“I didn’t know Erik settled down” Tre comments and you look back at Erik again feeling particularly cornered.

“You work together?” you ask, and Tre looks me over before nodding his head.

“On occasion”

“Erik’s not an adversary you want to have, so stop looking at me like that.” I warn and he looks taken back. Erik returns sitting close to me and I move away despite us having company. He just fucked me only to screw me over.

“You two met last night right?”

“Bro, I didn’t know” Tre surrenders like he isn’t the multimillionaire tycoon.

“You remember at MIT all the baddest bitches in the city were mind – you think Miami is different?” Erik laughs being disrespectful on purpose as he G checks Tre who shifts uncomfortable. Satisfied with position of power Erik smiles like he’s not about to raise hell. “I told you I had the perfect girl for your VR game” Erik smiles sitting back.

I’m so confused I’m getting a headache until Tre looks me over again. His eyes study me, drinking me in. His head nods and his lips upturn into a smile before his eyes light up.

“Bro, she’s perfect” he agrees shocked.

I’m uneasy as I look at Erik he’s pissed enough to put me in a bad position. “Youre lucky I still want to fuck you or you’d be leaving here embarrassed and broke but I’m still getting break for you – remember that the next time you go out in next to nothing looking desperate and embarrassing me” Erik whispers in my ear. He’s diabolical.

“It’s a VR game” Tre smiles when he sees I’m visibly confused and uneasy. “Virtual reality, influencer culture is big right now. Our game is going to monopolize that but first I need an IT girl, a model if you will. The blueprint, someone who fits the looks of private jets and shopping sprees, the kind of girl that our players will want to be friends with and like to look at.” He explains with a smile. I look at Erik who nods.

“Obviously I need to see numbers and a contract, how much of my likeness is going to be used”

“Your face your body” Erik says.

“I’m not doing anything raunchy” you tell him, and he smiles.

“That’s all for me. You two work it out, remember I get my cut” Erik says getting up and leaving.

He’s unbelievable – you can never decide if you hate him or love him.

_____

Taglist:

@determinednot2fall @twistedcharismaaa @l-auteuse @chaneajoyyy @thickemadame @longpause-awkwardsmile @klaylakayblack @amelatonin @just-juicee @xo-goldengirl @ljstraightnochaser @itsjustyazz @soufcakmistress @nijajoha @iamrheaspeaks @4tprincess @justgetitoverwith0 @queenflaws @abeautifulmindexposed @coveredingodiv @nahimjustfeelingit-writes@champagnesugamama @heavensangelxo @bugngiz @cherrystainedlipsbaby @tip222u @keiva1000 @doublesidedscoobysnacks @shalynn-m @bakarilennox @tyees @damienwitcher

#Erik Killmonger #erik stevens fanfiction #erik x black reader #trevante rhodes x reader #trevante #Trevante Rhodes #trevanterhodesimagine

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letterstomilen · 4 years ago

Text

i discuss the classification of igneous petrology as you fall asleep during my lecture (PART 1) (ASMR)

Childe/Zhongli, Alternate Universe (read part 2 here) When Childe's younger sister tells him about the volunteer at the library, he does not make the connection between that and his new favorite ASMR YouTuber, Rex Lapis.

Childe has a very effective method of getting through college. His little sister, who’s caught him making coffee at three in the morning on more than one occasion the past week alone, would beg to differ.

“You’re the best older brother,” she starts off, and he’s sure she’s trying to convince herself more than him at this point, “but you need to fix your sleeping habits.” Then, because she’s his little sister, she’d flash him a smile and pat his shoulder reassuringly.

(The comment is not lost on him though. He understands his sleeping situation will eventually wear him down if it hadn’t already, but he believes if he’ll drink a coffee every morning and a Monster every night, he’ll get through three days. By the third day, he’ll hardly be coherent but that doesn’t matter because he’ll conk out for the next twelve hours and then repeat.)

“Don’t worry, Tonia,” he says, trying to sound as reassuring as possible as he contemplates whether it’s worth it or not to swallow a pill of 5-hour energy with his morning coffee. “Once break ends, I’ll get back to normal.”

“You said that six seasons ago.”

Childe frowns, trying to remember if his sleeping schedule was this dysfunctional last year. “Huh?”

“The Walking Dead seasons,” Tonia clarifies, as if she’s not twelve years old and the show is for grown adults. He thinks. He hasn’t checked Commonsensemedia ever since La Signora labeled him as a “helicopter parent” and his Netflix tab has been playing How to Get Away with Murder as background noise for the past few weeks.

Isn’t it a show about zombies though? Tonia’s sheepish smile tells it all, because it’s the same exact guilty look he had when he got caught red-handed as a kid.

(Once he remembers later, Childe promises himself, he’ll check out The Walking Dead.)

“Oh. Well. I have a lot of shows to catch up on, you know. Not to mention a ton of my professors gave me reading for over the break.”

A half lie. They did give him a lot of reading because each professor assumed that their classes were his only one, and with seven days left, he still has a textbook worth of reading to go through. But there are no shows that Childe would sacrifice his precious sleep for. As a matter of fact, he would love to sleep. He’s spent the majority of his classes back in high school sleeping and faking attention, saving his grade at the last minute — it was quite the extreme sport really, if he says so himself.

Whenever he tries to sleep recently, his thoughts run at several hundred miles per hour, and he spends several hours staring at the ceiling before succumbing to the computer at his desk and watching trashy movies. At this point, he must have gone through the entire romance comedy list on Netflix. (Not a proud point in his life but if anybody ever wanted him to give a list of best to worst romance comedy movies, he now has one.)

Tonia, on the other hand, isn’t incredibly convinced.

Admittedly, the excuse was lame. Also, he can’t easily lie to his little sister, who’s far shrewder than he takes her for at times.

“You never start your reading in advance. You like to speed read it right before your class or watch a five-minute video on the chapters while your teachers take attendance. But that’s… uh, ‘a bad work ethic.’” Tonia looks immensely proud of herself as she says this, finishing it off with, “Zhongli told me that.”

“Zhongli?” he repeats, trying to remember if that’s one of her classmates or some stranger that’s hoping to kidnap his sister.

“The guy that volunteers at the library sometimes. He recommended me a loot of good books to read, but he talks like an old man.”

“How old?” Childe can tell she’s enjoying this — talking about her new friend at the library that he’ll probably have to run a background check on.

“Like he’s in his sixties or something. But he looks… actually, he looks your age! And he’s a student too. I told him all about you.”

Well, that doesn’t sound very reassuring coming from the mouth of a twelve-year-old. He’s not sure if that translates to his social security number, his current dilemma, or just that he’s her older brother.

“Like all of the stories you told me when I was a kid. And then when Lumine came to pick me up, she stayed to show him pictures of you too.”

“Of course she did,” he mumbles, ruffling her hair. One of these days he’s going to move without telling his classmates and the twins won’t enter his apartment unannounced. (But Tonia adores their company and the stories they tell her far too much for him to actually do it. But that doesn’t mean he’s above making threats when they tell his little sister about the bet he made about white-out and how it could dye hair. The jury is still out on this one.) “She’s just mad because I get away with it and she doesn’t. But don’t do it yourself. It’s a bad habit,” he adds, remembering that he should at least try to be a good influence on his younger sister when he can.

“Okaaay,” she says unconvincingly, before shaking her hair and running off to her room with lunch he prepared for her.

Watching her close the door and no doubt continue her binge of The Walking Dead, he takes out his phone and texts Lumine.

Childe