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chrisevansjellybeans · 4 years

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Undercover | Mob!Steve Rogers

I saw this post by @rosierose-e and got inspired to write this mob! Steve Rogers smut. All mistakes are my own.

ALSO THANK YOU FOR 400 FOLLOWERS! Love you all and appreciate the support immensely! Thank you :)

Warning: Smut!!! NSFW choking, cockwarming, swearing

Part Two

Word Count: 5k

You squinted as you looked at yourself in the mirror. The weight of the false lashes a foreign feeling on your eyes. You felt like a clown. This was not you at all. You wore the basics: some foundation, concealer, blush, mascara and if you were really feeling fancy a lip gloss. But nothing heavy. One, your skin was unforgiving and if you went heavier than the BB cream you used you would have pimples for days. Two, in your line of work heavy makeup just wasn’t ideal.

“Wow, you look amazing.” You looked up in the mirror to see the rookie Peter Parker getting into the van behind you. Peter was sweet, a little naive, but a good agent nonetheless. He had joined the force about three months ago and Director Fury had insisted he learn from the best, so now he was your partner for the remainder of the year.

“Thanks, Pete.” You sighed as you straightened up, pulling the hem of the skin tight black dress down only to have it bunch up again. “I feel ridiculous.”

“Well you don’t look it.” He handed you a cup of coffee and you took it with a grateful smile. You needed all the caffeine you could get tonight.

Tonight you were going undercover at the notorious Red White and Blue Gala hosted by none other than notorious mob boss Steve Rogers. It was his lame attempt and pretending to be an upstanding citizen but hosting an event in honor of the men and women in service. A good cause but for a bad reason. It was rumored that more than just helpful charity happened at this event.

You and the rest of your team had been tailing Rogers for close to two years. Trying to get anything to tie the bastard down to all the crimes you knew his organization was behind. But he was good at his job. Leaving no trace evidence that could link any of the nefarious acts back to him.

He was a cocky son of a bitch and you wanted to be the one to nail him.

Peter glanced down at the watch on his wrist before clapping his hands together. “Almost showtime, partner.”

You felt your hands get clammy as the nerves started to wrack your body. You had done undercover work before in the last seven years you’ve been a part of the force but there was something different about this one. Something more dangerous. Steve Rogers was a dangerous man.

You turned back to the mirror and fixed your hair and makeup one last time before letting out a long breath. You again tried to pull down the hem of the dress but with no avail. You wanted badly to be mad at the catering company that you had been able to infiltrate but you knew that this was probably the work of Rogers. Sick bastard.

You slipped on the four inch heels they gave you and you nearly stumbled into Peter as you tried to take a step. Heels. Another thing not usually worn in your line of business.

“Okay, this is a listening device.” Peter explained as he pinned a small but beautiful butterfly pin on your right breast. You couldn’t help but chuckle as his hands fumbled as he accidentally grazed over where your nipple would be. “Sorry.”

“It’s a boob, Parker. It’s fine.” Peter just nodded before finishing pinning it.

“Anyway,” he continued. “It’ll be recording everything that we need and coming right back here to my feed in the van. It’s small enough that it won’t get detected by any scanners. Unfortunately we won’t be able to communicate but if you say ‘pineapple’ we’ll come in and get you out.”

“Pineapple.” You said more to yourself than to Peter.

“Pineapple. And I mean, Y/N. Anything starts to get fishy you get out of there. Roger’s is ruthless.”

“I know.” You patted his shoulder. “Thanks for looking out for me, rook.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He pushed you out the van. “Kick ass, partner.”

You gave him a small salute before turning around and following another group of girls dressed just like you into the expansive mansion in front of you.

You tried not to be too awestruck as you took in the structure of the building. It looked like something out of an old mystery novel. The entire place was dark. Dark wood and dark furniture. The lights all a dimmed tan light that fed into the mysterious atmosphere. Your eyes darted to the artwork that littered the wall, all depictions of a fall from grace.

Is that how you see yourself, Rogers? A fallen angel?

“Hey!” You snapped back to attention as a frantic voice called over to you. “What the hell are you doing? Get to the kitchen.”

You bit your tongue as you glared at the rude man before following the rest of the women into the kitchen.

Dressed all like you, there were probably about twenty other women there. All of them easily could have been supermodels. The rude man pushed you towards a group of about three of them who were all balancing drinks on a tray.

“Grab one and go.” The man, Stan you gathered from his nametag, said before turning to another group of women. You picked up a tray and prayed to all powers in the universe that the combination of full glasses of wine and these heels didn’t cause you to completely embarrass yourself.

The ballroom was huge. You suddenly felt very small as you wandered around the room, offering drinks to some of New York’s most high profile residents. You kept your eyes peeled for the familiar mob boss. Your heart rate sped up as you noticed him across the room, chatting with a beautiful woman. You watched as he leaned down and whispered something to her, causing her to blush before playfully pushing his shoulder. He just smirked before turning his attention to the man on the other side of him-Clint Barton, completely ignoring her now, but she still stayed by his side watching his every move.

Pathetic.

You had to get to him. Get him alone and get him talking. But how?

“Well aren’t you the prettiest thing in the room.” You felt yourself stiffen as a pair of hands wandered down your back and rested on your hip. The smell of expensive cologne attacking your senses.

Slowly you turned around to find James “Bucky” Barnes looking at you like a predator to its prey. Bucky, was Steve’s right hand man. His best friend. He was handsome. Dark hair, even darker blue eyes and a smirk, that if he was anyone else, would have your panties melted off before you could even blink. You glanced down at the infamous metal arm that was hidden underneath an expensive suit jacket, but his hand flexed slightly as he noticed you looking at it.

“Thank you, Mr. Barnes.” You forced out. “Can I offer you a drink?” You pushed the tray between the two of you in offering and also creating more space.

“No, I’m all set, doll.” He raised his glass of scotch. “Just wanted to talk to a pretty thing like you.”

“There are plenty of other beautiful women here.” You said, your voice slightly cold. You hoped he would get the hint.

“None quite like you.” He smirked and you fought everything in you to roll your eyes.

“Does that line actually work?”

Bucky took a step back at your bluntness. You see out of the corner of your eye, Rogers and Barton start to head towards the door. You had to make a move, because if he left to go do business he might not come back down for a while.

“It was nice talking to you, Mr. Barnes.” You quickly moved past him, ignoring his short “wait”. You rushed, but not too obviously, towards where Steve was heading. If you went fast enough you could cut him off. You felt your heart drop to your stomach as you tripped over your heels, the tray in your hand shooting forward and the glasses of red wine landing square on Steve Rogers’ suit.

“What the fuck?” The room went silent at his angry outburst. You stumbled as you tried to stand up, but were immediately hoisted up when his large hands wrapped around the tops of your arms.

“I’m so sorry, sir.” You sputtered. For a moment you forgot where you were. Why you were here. His blue eyes, dark with fury, scanned your face as he held your arms. You had never really taken a good look at him. All pictures in his file weren’t anything special or high definition. But now, seeing him up close? You were beginning to understand the woman from earlier giddiness.

He was beautiful.

You bit your lip as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip. You suddenly felt very aware of your body and the fact that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Go.” He pushed you towards the door he had been walking to with Barton. You walked through the door with shaky legs as you heard him mutter something to Barton before following you.

“Sir, I’m so-”

“Shut up.” He growled as he stepped through the door, the heavy wood slamming shut behind him. “Walk.”

You hesitated. You didn’t know where he wanted you to walk to. Grumbling, Steve once again pushed you forward and you just started walking down the hallway. As you walked down you noticed a door that was slightly ajar. You glanced in while walking past and took note of the firearms and drugs that were very obviously there.

“Keep. Walking.” Steve’s voice was harsh in your ear before you heard him slam the door shut.

“Yes, sir.” you muttered.

The two of you continued to walk until you made it to the room at the end of the hall. Tentatively you opened it, waiting for any different direction, but Steve remained silent behind you so you continued.

The room was...different. It was very different from the dark vibe of the rest of the house. There was a large bay window to your left that overlooked the back of the house that homed a large garden and pool. The walls were painted a soft beige and the furniture a lighter wood than the rest of the house. Even the bed was covered in a white duvet that looked like a cloud just waiting to be jumped on. It was homey. It was nice.

“Mr. Rogers-”

“Who do you work for?” He demanded, shutting the door.

You froze. You tried hard to make sure your face didn’t give away anything as he stared you down. You didn’t let your gaze falter as he stalked closer to you.

“Lee’s Catering.” You answered earnestly.

“Bullshit.” He was now only a foot away from you. His broad shoulders heaving as he raked you up and down. “I know every single girl that works for Stan. I’ve never seen you before. So answer me again and honestly this time. Who the fuck do you work for?”

“So he’s not allowed to hire new girls?” You snapped, immediately covering your mouth with your hand.

Fuck.

“Watch your tone with me, sweetheart. You’re on very thin ice right now.” He closed the final gap between the two of you and you gasped when his hand went around your throat, but not tightening enough to cut off any oxygen.

“That old bat isn’t allowed to hire anyone that I haven’t vetted.” He hissed in your ear. You shuttered as the vibrato of his voice sent shivers straight down to your core.

“Please.” Your voice came out in a whisper as your eyes pleaded with him.

Steve opened his mouth but nothing came out, his nose brushed along the curve of your neck and you sucked in a breath as his mouth latched onto the sensitive spot underneath your jaw.

“Strip.” He commanded, pushing you back causing you to fall onto the bed.

“What?”

“Take off your fucking clothes so I can see if you’re wired.” He snapped. You slowly pulled at the hem of your dress before drawing it up your body and over your head. Before you could fully get it off he stopped you. Your heart stopped as he reached over to the butterfly pin and pulled it off the dress. You watched in horror as he walked to his door, opening it and calling out to someone at the end of the hall.

“Yeah boss?” You tried to see him, but Steve’s frame was blocking the small opening in the door.

“Take this and run a test. Let me know if it’s bugged.” He demanded before closing the door. When he turned around he raised an expectant eyebrow at you letting you know you still had to take off the dress. You resumed your actions and turned your face away when his eyes flared at the matching set of red lingerie you had on underneath.

“See? No wires.” You whispered.

Steve didn’t say anything as he stalked towards you, rolling up the sleeves to the dress shirt he had on. Your body flushed as he leaned over you, his strong arms resting on either side of your chest. Slowly, he moved on hand to the strap of your bra before lowering it down off your shoulder. His thumb brushed over your pebbling nipple and you wanted to smack the smirk that formed on his face straight off.

“I better double check you’re not hiding anything anywhere.” He muttered before pulling the cup of your bra down, exposing your left breast. You shuttered as his thumb brushed over it again, this time with no barrier. His mouth was hot as wrapped his lips around the bud, causing you to let out an unwilling moan. Your hips bucked up as his tongue expertly ran over your nipple. His deftly unclipped your bra and moved his mouth to your other breast and continued the same assault. His hands moved down to your hips to steady them from bucking against his growing member.

“Hmm, looks like we’re clear up here.” He chuckled as his lips moved up to your jaw before capturing your mouth with his.

The kiss was fiery and embarrassingly so sent a wave of pleasure down to your aching core. You moaned into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his hair, giving it a tight tug. Steve growled at your movements as he fully leaned into you now, his muscular thighs trapping yours on the bed.

You ran your tongue along his bottom lip before slipping it in to find his own. You nearly came as Steve moaned into your mouth, his hands tightening on you and pulling you up to meet his rutting hips. Using all your strength you spun the two of you around, your mouths still connected, so you were now straddling his pelvis. You pulled away from the kiss and sat up.

Steve slowly opened his eyes, his pupils blown in desire as he looked up at you through hooded eyes. You began to unbutton his wine stained shirt, running your hands over his porcelain skin when it was fully opened. You traced your fingers over the tattoos that littered his abs and ribs. You took pleasure in the fact that Steve would shiver with every pass of your fingertip.

“I’m sorry about the stain, Mr. Rogers.” You said innocently, leaning down, your breasts pushed together as they rested on his now bare chest.

“You should be, princess.” His voice was deep. You let out a small yelp as one of his hands gave a harsh slap to your ass. “This is an expensive shirt. And don’t even get me started on the trousers.”

You hummed in understanding as you gave tiny kisses across his jaw and neck, taking time to suck on the skin around his collarbone. Your hands wandered down his body till they came in contact with the trousers in question. Slowly you sat up, running your hands over the stain on his pants but your eyes never leaving his.

“I hope you can get the stain out.” You licked your lips as you moved your body down his own until your face was directly by his crotch and the stain. You sucked on the stain near his cock and smiled when his member jumped in his briefs. You slowly pulled down his pants until he was just in his underwear, his cock trying so hard to break free from it’s confines.

Steve groaned as you finally freed his aching member. You gave the tip a little kitten lick as you looked up at him. He was now resting his weight on his arms as he leaned back and watched you in absolute wonder. You brushed your thumb across the tip, dragging the precum that had gathered there down the rest of his shaft. Your mouth watered at the thought of having him in your mouth. But you wanted to torture him a bit more.

You ran your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock, while your hand squeezed lightly at the base. You wrapped your lips around the tip, your tongue playing with the slit there before pulling back with a pop.

“Mhmm, tasty.” You continued treating him like your own personal lollipop, but never fully enveloping his dick in your mouth.

“Sweetheart, either fucking suck it like I know you can or I’ll shove it down your fucking throat.” Steve wrapped your hair into a makeshift ponytail and forced your head up. “Got it?”

You didn’t respond, instead you finally took him into your mouth. You pushed past your gag reflex and took him all the way in until your nose brushed against the hairs on his naval.

“Oh fuck.” Steve’s voice praised as he started moving his hips, fucking his cock down the back of your throat.

Your eyes watered as you let him use your throat as his own little fuck toy. You reached between your legs trying to relieve the tension that was building there. You moaned around his cock as your fingers toyed with your clit.

“Shit, I wanna come in that fucking pussy.” He moaned as he pulled you off the floor and threw you back on the bed. You laid back, your fingers moving back to your clit as you watched him fully take off his clothes. He watched you with interest as you moved your lace panties to the side and slid a finger up your slit, gathering your juices before gently rubbing your clit again. He ran his hands up your legs before grabbing your hand and stopping your actions.

“This,” He patted harshly against your pussy and you moaned at the sensation. “Is mine. Don’t touch, unless I tell you to.”

“Yes, sir.” You moaned as his fingers replaced yours. Your back arched as he dipped one finger into your hole.

“Fuck, baby. When was the last time somebody fucked this little cunt? You’re so fucking tight, baby.” He moaned, watching as your pussy greedily closed around his finger.

“You’re gonna feel so good around my cock, sweetheart.” Steve’s eyes met yours and for a moment he looked like a man that you might actually want to be with. His cold exterior was gone and replaced with a man who was just as lustfully lost as you were.

“I want your cock now. Please.” you cried out as he slipped another finger in. Your body bucking as he curled his fingers up hitting that spot that so few had been able to get to with you.

“Yeah? My little slut wants daddy’s cock to fill her up?” He leaned over you, capturing your lips again. You moaned into his mouth at his words. You never admitted it to anyone but you always had a little bit of a daddy kink. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him tightly as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

“Please, daddy.” You whimpered against his lips as your hips bucked against his. “Please fuck me.”

Steve chuckled darkly, kissing you quickly again, before ripping your panties clean off your body. You didn’t even care that he just ruined the most expensive pair of underwear you owned. You just needed his cock in you now.

You bit the inside of your cheek as you watched him lineup his cock with your dripping hole, slowly pushing the head into your tight channel. You both let out moans as he bottomed out. He fell forward, his forehead resting against yours. You whined as you tried to move your hips against his but he just forced them down with his hands.

“Steve!” You all but screamed. “Please.”

“Patience, baby.” He said through gritted teeth. “Your pussy’s so fucking tight. Squeezing daddy’s cock so good. I just need a minute.”

You let out a humph as you continued to buck your hips against his.

“What the fuck did I just say?” He growled, he leaned up and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Don’t be a fucking brat.”

You opened your mouth to apologize but it was overtaken as you let out a yelp as he pulled himself out before slamming his cock back into you. You threw your head back as he fucked into you relentlessly, his hand tightening around your throat. You were in a state of euphoria as his cock dragged in and out of your walls.

“Oh my god.” You mewl as he continues to completely destroy your pussy. Before you could process what’s happening, Steve flips you over so your face is pushed into the fluffy comforter. He pulls your hips back so your ass is in the air and he easily slides back into you.

“Tight little cunt fucking loves my cock.” You cry out as his hand delivers a slap against your ass before moving to your hips and pushing you back onto his dick. You feel your eyes roll to the back of your head as the tip of his cock hits your g-spot.

“Daddy!” You call out. Steve leans over and pulls you up by your neck, causing your back to be flush with his front as he fucks up into you. His other hand moves down to play with your clit.

“Are you gonna come baby girl? I feel your pussy milking my cock. You wanna come?” He growls in your ear. “Huh? You wanna come all over my cock?”

“Yes! Oh god, yes!”

“I’m so close, princess.” He drops his head into the crook of your neck. “Come on, baby. Squeeze my cock, make daddy come with you.”

You feel that familiar feeling in your tummy as your orgasm approaches.

“Shit.” You breathe out as your orgasm gets closer and closer. Steve’s fingers move faster against your clit. You cry out as your orgasm finally crashes over you. Steve lets out a groan as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, his cum shooting inside your walls.

“You feel so good.” He breathes as his orgasm dies down. You hum in agreement but you’re too tired to say anything else. You close your eyes as you feel Steve lower your both to the bed. You whimper as he pulls out of you.

“I’ll be right back.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and you just give him a nod. You’re completely incoherent. Totally fucked out. He’s gone for a couple minutes and you hear the water in the bathroom running before he comes back. With your eyes closed you don’t see how he pauses at the side of bed, appreciating the curves of your body as you curled yourself under one of his many blankets.

You whine as you feel him move the blanket before running a washcloth between your legs. “Steve?”

“Yes, princess?” You hate that your stomach flutters at the nickname.

“Don’t leave.” You mutter, closing your eyes once more.

Steve doesn’t respond for a second and at first you think that he’s going to leave but then you feel the bed dip and a strong arm pulling you close. You smile to yourself as your hand lands on top of his.

“Get some rest.” He whispers in your ear.

“Mmkay.” you hum and you don’t know if it’s your imagination or not but you swore you felt Steve smile against your skin.

You wake with a jolt. You glance at the clock and curse silently. You’ve been asleep for two hours. You turn over and see Steve still there, his eyes closed and his breathing steady. You find yourself staring at his long eyelashes and how they rest gently along the tops of his cheek. He doesn’t look like a scary mob boss here. He looks human. He looks peaceful.

“I can feel you staring.” Steve opens one eye and gives you a small smile. “Like what you see?”

You gasp as he grabs you and has you straddle his hips. You rest your hands easily on his chest and stare down at him, smirking as you feel his cock start to stir.

“Hmmm, I love these.” His hands reach up and twist at your nipples causing you to bite back a moan.

“Steve…”

“And your pussy is so responsive to me, princess. It’s like it was made for me.” He rubs his thumb across your clit. “I can feel how wet you are again.”

“Well you’re playing with my clit. Of course I’m gonna get wet.” You retort.

Steve raises an eyebrow at you. “You really think being sassy is in your best interest?”

You roll your eyes but don’t respond. Steve grumbles before lifting you up a bit and impaling you on his now hard cock.

“Fuck!” You slap his chest and Steve chuckles. Nonetheless you start rocking your hips against his.

“Nuh uh,” Steve tuts. He holds your hips still. “You’re just gonna sit here like this. Keep me nice and warm.”

“Steveeee.” You whine, lowering your head to his chest.

“Don’t be such a brat then.” He growls. You raise your head to look at him and even though his words are tough, his eyes are soft. And for a moment your taken back. “So sit still for daddy.”

You groan but stay still. Steve runs his fingers up and down your back, tracing patterns along your skin and you hum in appreciation. Your peaceful moment is upended though when his phone rings on the nightstand next to him.

“Rogers.” He answers quickly. You stay quiet as you hear the voice on the other end of the line talk about the product movement. You smirk to yourself as Steve begins to discuss logistics, completely ignoring your presence.

“I’m a little busy, Stark.” Tony Stark? As in Mayor of the city Tony Stark? He was in on this too. “I’ll call you back.” Steve threw his phone back on the nightstand and brought your face up to his to pull you into a searing kiss.

“Please, daddy?” You say against his lips. You start rocking your hips again and this time, Steve doesn’t stop you.

You're a moaning mess as Steve’s hips snap up yours, your orgasm fast approaching.

“Gonna cum already?”

“Yes, yes! Oh god, I’m so close!” You breathe as he quickens his pace.

“Cum, baby girl. Make a mess on daddy.” He groans, his head tipping back.

“Steve!” You choke out as your body spasms with pleasure. Steve comes quickly after you and you shutter as you feel his seed leaking out of your worn out hole.

You lay your head down on his chest again and try to gather your thoughts. You need to get out of here.

“I should go.” You whisper, sitting up. Steve’s cock is still inside you and you almost don’t want to leave because you feel so full.

“I wanna see you again.” He runs his fingers across your cheek. The sense of power you feel seeing the country’s biggest mob boss underneath you, drunk on your sex is overwhelming. You love the feeling.

“You will. Soon.” You lean down and give him a deep kiss. “I promise.” You peck his lips once more before gathering your clothes from the floor.

Slipping on your shoes you give him one last wink before hurrying out the door and down the hall. You manage to find a way to the kitchen without having to walk through the rest of the party and you sneak out behind a delivery man who brought in a ridiculously large ice sculpture.

Once you're outside you take your heels off and run towards the van down the street. You hurriedly knock on the back, checking your surroundings to make sure no one sees you. Peter opens the door and he looks like he’s seen a ghost when he sees you.

“Y/N!” He pulls you into the van. “Oh my god, I was getting worried. When we heard him say that he wanted to check the pin I had to turn off the devices so they wouldn’t get traced. And then you didn’t come out. But Fury said that you would be fine but man, I was so nervous and-”

“Parker, shut up and hand me a piece of paper.” You clapped your hands together, pulling him out of his ramble. Peter nodded and handed you a pen and paper watching intently as you started writing down everything you overheard on the phone call.

“What is this?”

“Rogers is working with Stark and they're moving some sort of product tomorrow.” You said proudly.

“How did you...this is huge!”

“My Ma always said that there are two ways to get to a man. One is through his stomach and the other is in his pants.” You shrugged.

“And I’m guessing you didn’t make him a grilled cheese sandwich.” Peter makes a face.

“Not exactly.” You laugh. “Now let’s go. We gotta get this to Fury.”

Part 2

#chris evans imagine #steve rogers imagine #chris evans smut #steve rogers smut #chris evans x reader #steve rogers x reader #stever rogers x reader smut

854 notes · View notes

leossmoonn · 3 years

Note

can i request a stefan imagine where bonnie locks you both into a room because you guys fight to hide your feelings, and when you're inside, you both finally talk it out and then when the next day the room is unlocked everyone makes fun of you because you fell asleep on each other

yes! this is such a cute idea :))

masterlist

warnings / includes - mild language, casual sex talk, underage drinking (you all are 18 tho), fighting, kissing, ugly crying (lol)

————

“i thought he was supposed to be the smart one,” you grimaced.

“boys are often enchanted by half-naked girls,” elena stated. “yeah, but not stefan,” you said, taking a big gulp of your beer.

“well, contrary to popular belief, stefan is like other boys. he got turned at 17, he didn’t have much time to mature.”

you gave elena a ‘are you serious?’ look before turning back to the man whom you were hopelessly in love with. it shattered your heart to see him dancing with another girl.

she was wearing a belly top with a skirt you knew that not even vicki donovan would approve of. she had her back facing towards stefan, running her hands through his hair as she moved up and down on him, obviously trying to get him riled up and fuck her in the bathrooms. meanwhile, his hands were on her waist, following the movements her body made. he had a big smile on his face, winking at her as he told her dirty little nothings.

the red solo cup crushed in your hand, beer running down your arm, some getting on your jeans. you didn’t even realize until elena started to wipe your skin with napkins, taking your attention off of the vampire for a few seconds.

“you had an accident,” elena snorted. “oh,” you frowned, helping her. “oops.”

“why don’t you just go and replace her? i bet stefan then would actually get hard,” elena suggested.

“please, it’s not like he’d even notice me. i mean, look at her, she’s gorgeous.” your insecurities took over your brain, and you couldn’t help but think of how many other pretty girls stefan could have.

“please, she’s below average, and she’s had herpes two times in the last four months. i know stefan is immortal and his body heals fast and all, but no guy, supernatural or not, wants to get involved with a girl like that,” elena assured you.

“then why is he letting her use him as a stripper pole?” you frowned. “maybe to make someone jealous?” elena raised her brow, looking at you and hoping you caught onto the hint.

“like who, you?” you smirked.

“he doesn’t like me anymore! and trust me, before we even got together, he was in love with someone else. he just used me as a jealous device,” elena shrugged, taking a sip of her beer.

“ouch. who did he love instead of you?” you asked, completely clueless. “oh, it doesn’t matter, but it’s okay. i was in love with damon, anyways, so really, it was fair. and he did love me, he just wasn’t in love with me, you know?” she asked.

“yeah, i guess there is a difference,” you nodded. “yep, and stefan definitely does not like that girl, so go and talk to him! you’re his best friend, and if you pull him aside to confess your feelings for him, he definitely won’t mind,” elena nudged you.

you looked back at him, your heart racing at the thought of you actually telling him you’re in love with him, and have been for the last year and a half. you shook your head, looking down at your shoes.

“no, no, it’s too risky. what if he doesn’t like me back? i can’t risk losing your friendship over some silly little crush.”

elena rolled her eyes, setting her drink down and taking ahold of your shoulders. she looked you in the eyes, causing your own eyes to widen.

“it’s not just a “silly little crush”, okay? you are in love with him, and it’s not going to get any better for you if you just stand here and push your feelings down. and look, he likes you, too. i know you don’t believe it, but he does. in fact, he’s also in love with you. just take a chance, y/n.”

“but what if he doesn’t like me and you guys have just been rallying me up for no reason?” you frowned.

“that’s not going to happen. now, go and be with your soulmate!” she pushed you towards him.

you glanced to her and gave her a glare, but complying once you faced stefan again. you walked over to him confidently, tapping his shoulder. he immediately turned to you, a bright smile lighting his face. oh, how you loved that smile.

“hey, y/n, what’s up?”

“i wanted to talk to you,” you prompted. “okay, sure,” he nodded. he abandoned the girl, letting you lead him to a quieter part of the grill.

“so, what’s this about?” he asked.

“um, well…” you weren’t sure you could just flat-out confess, so you decided it was best to have him confess first. “do you like anyone?”

stefan’s eyes widened, a flash of fear clouding his eyes. he shifted his weight, stuffing his hands in his jean pockets.

“u-um, no. why would you think that?”

your heart fell at his response, but you kept up hope. he was probably just scared because he didn’t know you liked him back, right?

“well, a little birdie told me that you liked someone. and me being your best friend and all, i thought it would be fitting for me to know. you know, i can help by getting you and her together.” you flashed him an eager smile.

“well, i don’t like anyone. and if you don’t mind, i’d like to get back to -“

“you’re really leaving me to dance with that slut?” you cocked your brow.

“n-no, well, yeah, but -“

“c’mon, stefan, i won’t judge. just tell me who you like.” you slipped your hand into his, interlocking your fingers together.

stefan’s dead heart dropped in his chest, giving him that somersault affect your touch often gave him. he looked into your eyes, seeing the desperation and pain that they held. he knew that he should tell you that it’s you, but he wasn’t 100% sure you even liked him back. like you, the thought of losing you was too risky for him to take the leap. so instead, he deflected.

“you don’t have to know everything about me! i know you’re my friend, but i have my own private life outside of our friendship. just leave me alone and let me dance with her.” he pulled his hand away from yours, the loss of warmth and comfort disappearing from you both.

you looked at him incredulously, not believing the words that came out of his mouth. you open and closed your mouth multiple times, not sure how to respond. you didn’t even know how to feel, really. you just felt your heart break for the millionth time that night.

he looked at you helplessly, guilt filling his chest as he saw the struggle you had with choosing to leave, or choosing to stay and work it out. he hoped you would choose the latter.

“you’re an asshole, stefan,” you spoke.

your words cut him like a knife.

“you’re right, you do have a personal life outside of our friendship, but you have always shared everything with me. you once told me that i’m the one that you trust the most, that you can tell anything that, that i’m your bestfriend. and-and what now? i-i’m only a friend? someone who you can’t even tell who you like? you told me that you liked elena, and i helped you with that. what is so different about this girl, huh?” you argued.

“nothing! i-i just… you just don’t need to know everything, is all.”

you looked at him good and hard, trying to decide if he was telling the truth or not. was elena wrong? did he really not like you, but like someone else?

“i don’t believe that,” you shook your head, speaking to yourself more than him.

“why not? you are never this… grueling.”

“because i… i just…” you couldn’t tell him that you really thought.

“you what? you think you know who i like? please, enlighten me,” he taunted.

you gritted your teeth, your hands balling into fists. you lifted your first up, ready to hit him, but bonnie and elena came over, restraining you.

“okay, let’s calm down, yeah?” bonnie suggested, pulling you back.

you started to cry as bonnie led you to a different part of the restaurant.

“you-you guys are wrong. he doesn’t like me,” you sobbed.

bonnie sighed. “he does, we swear. he just doesn’t know you like him.”

“are you serious! what is he, blind?” you scoffed.

“guys are pretty clueless, even immortal ones.”

“yeah, that’s what elena said,” you sniffled. “well, what do i do now? we can just resume being friends.”

bonnie pursed her lips, thinking for a moment. “here, let me show you something.”

she took your hand, leading you to the storage room. you went along with her until you saw stefan there.

“what? bonnie, what are you -?”

“have fun you two,” elena winked as bonnie closed the door.

you heard the lock click. you ran up to the door, banging on it and begging for your friends to let you out.

“hey! this isn’t funny! i’m claustrophobic, you know this!”

“no can do! work it out, you two!” bonnie shouted from the outside.

“here, let me,” stefan said.

you moved away, crossing your arms as you watched him try to kick down the door. he took ahold of the handle, pulling it off. he then tried to open the door, but it didn’t budge.

“well, good job. you’re a genius, you know that?” you remarked.

he turned to you with a glare. “as if you could do anything else.”

“well, maybe if you let me find something to unlock the lock, then there would still be a door handle!” you hissed.

“don’t blame me for trying to help!”

“well, it’s the truth! you always think you can fix things. just accept the fact that you can’t.”

“woah, when did this turn personal? if i remember correctly, you once told me that my determination was admirable. why the sudden change now?” he hummed, crossing his arms and looking at you like a smart ass.

you sighed deeply, your eyes filling with tears as you answered him.

“because you hurt me. i-i’m hurt, okay?”

he softened up immediately, his arms falling to his side, his smirk disappearing. remorse shined in his eyes as he tried to reach out to you.

“i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to hurt you.”

you stepped back, putting your head down. “it’s fine.”

“no, it’s not. you don’t deserve it.”

you turned your back to him, your eyes settling on the boxes full of kitchen supplies. you sniffled multiple times, your shoulders shaking as you tried to keep your weeping to a minimum.

you heard stefan sigh behind you. his feet dragged along the steel floor, his hand coming up to gently rub your back.

“please, look at me, y/n,” he whispered.

you turned to him slowly, the sorry pit in his stomach growing. you looked at him, your eyes drooping, tears lining your cheeks. your lips were swollen, your nose running. you sniffled once again, trying to calm yourself down.

stefan walked away for a few moments, bringing back a towel. you looked at him, heart fluttering as he wiped the snot that surrounded the bottom of your nose. he wiped your tears away, running the cloth carefully under your eyes to capture the remaining moisture. you watched him as he kept his eyes on yours the whole time. you felt yourself falling for him again.

he set the rag on a shelf, taking your hand and slipping his into it. you couldn’t help but smile at the gesture. stefan smiled with you, looking at you sweetly.

“i’m sorry. you are my best friend. you are the person i trust the most. i will continue to tell you everything and anything. i just… i was just scared to tell you who i liked,” he explained.

you nodded, understanding his explanation. “no worries. i get it. i don’t like being interrogated either.”

“you didn’t interrogate me.”

“oh, please,” you snorted. “we both know i did.”

he shrugged with a little smile. “well, i know you mean well.”

you nodded, “i do. i really do.”

“i know, y/n, i know,” he reassured you.

you looked away from him, the tension in the room weighing on your shoulders.

“you know, i think bonnie also put a spell on the door,” you stated.

“i was thinking that, too,” he sighed.

“well, what do we do now? we’ve made up,” you asked, looking back at him.

“i don’t know. are you hungry?” he asked.

“no. i am tired, though,” you said. “wanna lay down? i can be your pillow,” he suggested.

you smiled and nodded. “yeah, sure.”

he took your hand, getting on the ground. he laid flat on his back as you put your head on his chest. your heart hammered against your ribcage as he slipped his arm around you, holding you close to him. you fisted his shirt in your hand, closing your eyes and breathing in deeply.

his scent filled your nose, making your mind foggy and muscles relax. he smelled of sandalwood, leather, and jasmine. jasmine was something most guys didn’t smell like, but he did, strangely. it was a sweet, yet musky smell. it fit him very well, and you loved it.

your heart stopped as you felt him rub your back. his fingers scratched your clothed skin softly.

“so, can i ask who you like now?” you hummed.

stefan laughed. you felt the rumbling in his chest, making you smile.

“what?” you looked up at him, batting your eyes innocently.

“why do you want to know so bad? i thought i told you i was done dating for a while,” he stated.

you looked away and back at your hands that held the material of his shirt. “just wondering. and we both know that you’d love to have a girlfriend. one that isn’t in love with your brother.”

stefan laughed again, making you smile to yourself as his chest came up and down in multiple breaths.

“i mean, yes, but i don’t want to just date someone to prove that there are people that like me and not damon.”

“i know, but… what if the girl you like likes you back?” you suggested.

stefan stopped breathing for a second, his hand that was scratching your back stopping to a halt.

“you sound so sure of that,” he said.

you shrugged, looking up at him, hoping he could read the look on your face. “it’s because i am.”

he looked at you, his eyes giving away his emotions. he looked uncertain, but you knew that he understood what you were hinting at. he just couldn’t believe it.

“i love you, stefan,” you spoke, sitting up in his lap.

stefan’s face shone brightly as his lips upturned into a smile. you could physically see all the weight lifted off his shoulders. the hot tension in the room filtered out, being replaced with a cool breeze of relief. he sat up, putting his arm back around you, reaching his hand up to cup your face. he looked deeply into your eyes, his pupils running into his emerald irises. your hands went up to his neck, your fingers entangling in his hair.

“i love you, too, y/n,” he spoke, as if he had said it a million times before.

both of your reactions were minimal, but spoke a thousand words. the words felt natural, right.

you leaned in, eyes flickering from his lips to his eyes. your chest heaved up and down in anticipation, your heart ramming itself against your ribacage. stefan was the one to close the gap.

tingles shot up your spine, goosebumps lining your skin. you pressed into him - no space was between you now. you kissed him quicker now, opening your mouth and taking initiative.

he caught on in an instant. his hand that was on your cheek was now on your neck, cradling your head closer to his. he pulled you impossibly closer to him, sparks flying between you two as your chests rubbed against each other. you pulled on his hair that was at the nape of his neck as his hands reached further below your lower back.

his tongue ran across yours deliciously. you explored his mouth, tasting the bourbon and fries he had eaten earlier. you took a shallow breath as your lungs were gasping for air. you would’ve passed out if it weren’t for him.

“did you really like that girl dancing against you?” you blurted.

stefan tilted his head, chuckling. “no, i did not. and also, that’s really the first thing you’re going say after our first kiss.”

you shrugged. “a girl’s gotta ask.”

“well, then, no, i did not. i was trying to make you jealous.”

“well, good job, because it worked,” you snorted.

“yeah. i’m sorry again for making you cry. that was unfair.”

“it’s okay. i now know that you were just being a scared jerk,” you smirked.

“yep, that’s me,” he chuckled.

you hummed contently, placing your head on his shoulder. stefan resumed rubbing your back, setting back onto the floor again. it only took a few minutes for you two to doze off. you awoke again to the sound of laughter.

you opened your eyes, confused as you saw your friends standing over you.

“man, i thought you two were going to have sex, but this is worse!” damon cackled.

you grimaced, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“shut up, damon. at least i know how to treat a girl right,” stefan muttered.

everyone but damon snickered. damom crossed his arms, glaring at his younger brother.

“i do know how to treat a girl right. right, elena?” damon asked.

“mm, i’m not so sure,” elena said with a shit-eating grin.

“okay, you all suck. i’m out!” damon walked out of the storage room, leaving only you two with elena and bonnie.

“so, did you two make up?” bonnie asked.

“yep,” you nodded. “and we are going on our first date tonight,” stefan added.

your head whipped up to him in surprise. “really?”

“yeah, if that’s okay with you.”

“oh, it’s more than okay,” you grinned.

“well, just don’t fall asleep on each other during the date,” elena smirked.

you rolled your eyes. “we aren’t rabbits like you and damon!”

“okay, and like damon, i am out!” elena exclaimed, walking out of the storage room.

“they’re children,” you rolled your eyes.

“so were you two last night, but i’m glad you made up,” bonnie said.

“thanks. us, too,” you smiled at stefan.

stefan returned the expression, leaning in and kissing you softly.

“ew, okay! i, three, am out. please don’t have sex on this dirty floor,” bonnie stated before leaving.

“wanna have sex at my house?” stefan whispered.

“buy me dinner first!” you scoffed. “what about breakfast?” stefan cocked his brow.

you pursed your lips in thought. you couldn’t help but grin.

“i think that would be lovely.”

————

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uwuwriting · 4 years

Text

Breaking in w/ Hawks, Shoto and Dabi

Request: I read another post about ppl breaking in your shared house with the boys not knowing that you are inside and hurting you and I was like well this would be interesting with their kids in the mix. So i'm here to provide you with the following request ppl breaking in and immobilizing you while you're still awake and they try to go into your kids’ room with Shoto, Hawks and maybe Dabi or Aizawa- anonymous

Oh this is a nice little concept. It's very interesting. I’m happy to deliver. I have been devastated by chapter 290, if anyone hurts Shoto imma start a riot and if Dabi doesn’t kill Endeavor i will. I’m thinking of making a double post today so this one and a kny post but we’ll see. Love ya. 💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warning: cursing, mentions of blood, crying but fluff in the end.

Hawks/Keigo Takami

-You were waiting for Keigo to come home after a long day.

-The twins were a nightmare to put to bed today and you were exhausted.

-Both of them wanted Keigo to tuck them in for some weird reason and they just wouldn’t accept your cuddles or attempts.

-So after a tiresome two hours of trying and failing to calm them down you called your husband on facetime and they went to bed.

- “I’ll be home soon, do you want me to bring you anything?”

- “No, no just you.”

-So after taking a shower and checking on the kids you relaxed on the couch, turning on the TV while scrolling though tik tok.

-Not even half an hour later you heard jiggling coming through the door.

-Assuming it was Keigo you got up and went to greet him but who you met at the entrance of your house was a complete stranger.

-You and the two bulgars stared at each other for a solid minute before you scrambled to get to the kids’ room and lock yourself in there.

-But one of them tackled you to the floor before you could reach the pastel colored door and pinned you down, binding your hands with a cloth.

- “I thought you said he wasn’t here man? What is this?”

-They had tied your legs to a chair, putting a makeshift gag in your mouth so you wouldn’t scream as they bickered back and forth.

-Your eyes kept darting from the front door to your kids’ room.

-He said he was almost home, he should be here at any moment.

- “Just stick to the plan, she doesn’t change anything.”

- “Doesn’t change anything? You tackled the n. 2 heros’ partner and you think that nothing is gonna happen?”

-You couldn’t care less about their words as you saw the light of the baby monitor light up.

-Eyes widening, you tried to get out of your restraints to turn it off but to no avail, the soft babbles of your son could be heard coming from the device sending the whole room into an uncomfortable silence.

-Before you know it, the one that tackled you pushed his partner towards you.

- “Keep her in check while I go pay a visit to the other room.”

-Managing to get the gag out of your mouth, your eyes frantic, you tried to reason with him.

- “I’ll give you whatever you want just stay away from that door, please.”

- “The number 2 hero has plenty of money. I bet he would be willing to give a handsome amount for that brat in there. What do you say babycakes?

- “Dude you’re taking it too far-”

- “Stay away from them!”

-You realized your mistake a little too late, the new information making the man's eyes light up.

-Two cries came from the twins’ room due to the commotion and your panic rose.

-But then you saw it.

-The single feather hovering over the mans’ head, as red and vibrant as ever.

-You let out a sigh of relief as a wave of red feathers flooded your living room, cutting you free from your restraints.

-Without missing a beat you sprinted to the door, stepping inside and locking it.

-Both of them were awake and teary eyed but at the sight of you they calmed down a bit.

-Taking them out of their cribs, you sat in the far corner with both of them in your lap waiting for the moment Keigo would knock on your door.

-One would assume that being part of the hero industry, although you weren’t a full blown hero yourself, mere bulgars wouldn’t really faze you.

-In reality you hadn’t been afraid for your own life, you couldn’t care less about yourself at that moment, but when you realized that they knew about the twins everything slowly fell apart.

-After what seemed like an eternity a soft knock came from the locked door.

- “Y/N, dove, open up.”

-Raising to your feet, you almost ripped the door handle out of position in your rush.

-Once Keigo came into view you didn’t miss a beat before pressing yourself close to his chest, the twins just happy to see their dad.

- “There are my favorite Takamis!” he said kissing their heads as his wings enclosed all of you.

- “Dove they are gone, don’t worry. I’m here. We’re alright.”

-The news report the next morning said that two men were found on the top of the police department butt naked.

Todoroki Shoto

-Poor man had merely gone to get take out.

-He hadn’t been gone for that long.

-But apparently the villains had been waiting for him to leave the house so they could go in.

-You were still inside with your daughters; the twins chasing each other in their matching onesies while you sat on the living room couch with your youngest.

-You heard the front door open suddenly and at first you assumed that Shoto had forgotten his wallet again.

-But the footsteps were too heavy and his voice didn’t echo through the entrance hall.

-He always said something when he came in and his footsteps have become lighter ever since the girls were born.

-Sensing that something was off you placed your toddler in her crib and motioned towards the twins.

- “Stay with your sister and no matter what you hear you do NOT come into the hallway. Understood?”

- “But what-”

- “Rei do I make myself clear?”

-Nodding their heads they took their seats in front of the crib, Ren squeezing her hand through the bars to gently grab her sister's chubby hand.

-Taking a deep breath you entered the hallway and lo and behold, two strangers were staring back at you.

- “Can I help you gentlemen?”

-After a few seconds the one closest to the door flung himself at you while the other one started digging through his pockets.

-Swiftly dodging the attack, you grabbed his wrist and swang him with incredible force to the wall, letting go of him as you turned your attention to the other one.

-And then you felt a sharp pain course up your right leg as a heaviness settled on your chest.

-The room began to spin while the air was knocked out of your lungs.

-You kneeled down, hand over your heart as you tried to use your quirk.

-Nothing happened though; it was like you didn’t have one at all.

- “Quirk cancelling bullets, aren’t they neat?”

-The man stared down at you as ever so slowly your senses came back at you.

- “I can still beat your ass even without a quirk.”

- “I don’t think you’ll do that.”

-Angry voices could be heard from the other room before the man you had slammed into the wall appeared again, blood dripping from his nose and onto the snow white hair of your daughter.

-Ren looked at you, tears forming in her eyes as a red flash of hair jumped onto the man.

-Rei was having none of it.

-Taking that opportunity you kicked the one in front of you in the groin before separating the girls from the other, sprinting into the living room, closing the sliding doors behind you.

-Laying the girls on the couch you grabbed one of the fireplace tools and got into a fighting position.

-Soon enough the door opened revealing none other than Shoto himself.

- “Are you all alright? Did they hurt you?”

-He looked absolutely disheveled, his hair going in different directions as his gaze frantically scanned all four of you, his eyes lingering at your slightly raised leg.

-The twins hopped off the couch and tackled his legs.

-Shoto crouched down hugging them both tightly as they started to sniffle into their dad’s chest.

- “T-they hurt mama and t-tried to hurt Ren.”

-He shot you a look but you waved him off, deciding to instead check on the baby before joining them on the living room floor.

- “I won’t let them touch you ever again, even if it's the last thing I do.”

Dabi/Touya Todoroki *I ain't never letting this go*

-In reality the dudes didn’t know you were preggos.

-You were too early on so you couldn’t tell you were preggo but still.

-They knew that you had something going with Dabi and that’s why they wanted to fuck with you.

-They thought that they would gain something from trying * key word trying * to take you.

-They were wrong though because a) they got their asses kicked by you and b) they got fried once Dabi found them.

-You were chilling at Dabis’ while he was out to get you some mustard and a chocolate bar because cravings, when you heard the door open.

-Immediately you knew it wasn’t Dabi.

-You would’ve heard him grumbling under his breath about forgetting to take money with him * bc you have been pushing him to pay for stuff every once in a while* or he would be shouting at you that your disgusting meal had arrived.

-Neither of these things happened so something was up.

-Not bothering to get up because you didn’t give two fucks, you waited for whoever stepped inside the apartment to show themselves.

-You are a villain hun you ain’t about to stress over some crusty ass dude trespassing into your house because you could obliterate his ass from the face of the earth in negative five seconds.

-Whispers and a frantic “But what if he comes back?” was all you heard before the ground breaking phrase left their mouth.

- “Who cares? She’s a woman, how strong can she be anyways?”

-You were livid.

-It might have been a mix of your hormones along with the fact that that was hella sexist but you were ready to beat some crusty ass.

-Laying down on the couch and pretending to be asleep you waited for them.

-And soon enough you felt the three figures standing over you.

- “See easy as hell.”

- “And hot as hell, please don’t forget that.”

-All three of them stared down at you like that pikachu meme for a solid minute before scrambling to activate their quirks.

- “We don’t wanna hurt a pretty girl like you so please don’t cause a fuss.”

- “Oh baby you think you can hurt me? Please have you seen who I’m dating?”

-Slowly standing up you flicked your wrist and one of them dropped to the floor.

-You made your way to the kitchen pouring yourself a glass of water right when one of them ran into you, pinning you to the counter.

- “Watch it there bud I’m carrying precious carg-”

- “Shut up you fucking slut! You’ll come with us whether you like it or not.”

- “The only person who can boss me around is not currently in this room so I suggest you let go.”

- “Yeah you should probably let her go.”

-At the sound of his deep voice you knew that they were dead men.

-The one basically on top of you stared at Dabi in horror as you pushed him off of you.

-Making your way to your boyfriend you gave him a small peck while he rested a hand over you stomach as a silent ‘are you okay?’.

-Shrugging you took the bag from his hands and went into your bedroom, not caring to see what he was about to do to them.

-You were hungry anyways.

- “Now which one of you wants to be roasted first?”

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foli-vora · 4 years

Text

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

Tags: @anu-simps

#francisco morales x reader #frankie morales x reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x f!reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #francisco morales #benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #pedro pascal x reader

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katsukisblackteddy · 4 years

Note

Okay, I know I already sent you another request, but this one...I just had to drop this one on ya. Can I request Bakugo, Hawks, Shinsou, and Dabi’s reaction to seeing their black s/o getting hit on in the most cringiest, fetishizing way while they’re standing next to them? Since the s/o is dating them, they know the things that should and shouldn’t be said to a black person, but the weirdo goes to them and says things along the lines of:

“Do you taste as chocolatey as you look?”

“Lemme conquer you in the bedroom”

“Twerk on me like Megan Thee Stallion”

And “Our kids are going to be great athletes”

Like the she is just stunned into mortified silence since she couldn’t process the audacity for someone to say something so disgusting. She’ll let her man’s handle it cuz the last thing she needs is to be charged with homicide.

(Trust me, writing those lines hurt me but not as much as it hurt when I was told these things 🤢)

“Why Don’t You Just Do Us All a Favor and Shut Up?”

You don’t understand how many times a trashy guy has said something like this to me thinking I would find it cute or attractive. So gross! As a society we need to do better and stop sexualizing and fetishizing black women and girls.

also the gif has nothing to do with this, I just thought it was cute.

Anyways...starts below the cut!

Warnings: swearing, fetishization of black women and girls, sleazy trashy guys, protective boyfriends, sexual implications

“Katsu, can we get ramen at that new place that just opened up the street?” (y/n) questioned, her (eye color) eyes wide with anticipation.

“Ok.” The usually explosive blonde agreed, snaking his larger hand into her slightly smaller one. (y/n) had finished training earlier and since it was a light day, Bakugou had suggested they walk around the downtown area. “It’s over this way, right?” (y/n) nodded simply, looking around at the different shops they passed on their way to the new ramen restaurant.

Ever since Katsuki had begun dating the black girl, he had calmed down significantly, though only around her...with everyone else he was just as explosive as he always was. The black girl was fiercely protective over her friends and especially Katsuki, though he didn’t really need it; probably a part of her tiger quirk, though it came off as more endearing than annoying.

“What are you gonna order?” She wondered, making small conversation as they waited to cross the street.

“What I always order.” He answered simply.

“The spiciest thing on the menu.” (y/n) and Katsuki said at the same time, (y/n) rolling her eyes with a smile.

“You won’t have any taste buds left if you burn them all off.” She teased as Katsuki rolled his crimson eyes at her, holding her close to him as they continued to wait.

A whistle caught the couple’s attention, Bakugou’s eyes narrowing as they fell on two boys standing at a shop located behind where they were standing. The two boys looked the same age if not a little older than (y/n) and Katsuki, the taller one had lime green hair and matching lime colored eyes. His pale face had a smirk plastered on it. The slightly shorter of the two had pink hair the color of bubble gum, lavender eyes focusing on the black girl, a smirk on his face also.

Despite (y/n) usually being confident, there was something highly uncomfortable about the way they were eyeing her that made her uneasy.

“Hey Riku, you think she’d go for someone like me? You know I have a thing for exotics.” (y/n) turned around, deciding to ignore them, they weren’t worth the time. She gripped Bakugou’s hand, turning him around, trying to think of something to say to distract them both from the annoying boys.

The ash blonde sent her a bewildered look, confused as to why she wasn’t going to say something to them. “They aren’t worth it. They’re extras, right?” She joked, flashing a half smile at her boyfriend.

Bakugou tched, but decided not to say anything since (y/n) didn’t seem to want him to.

“You know why exotics are the best?” The lime green haired boy questioned, loud enough to make sure Bakugou and (y/n) had heard it.

“Why Riku?” The bubble gum haired boy said, a creepy glint in his eyes.

“Because of that fat ass.” He snickered. “You think she’d let me get a taste of that chocolate?”

(Jesus Christ, I cringed writing that. 🤢)

Bakugou’s head whipped around to glare at the two boys, (y/n) turning around to look at them, holding herself back, but too shocked by what she had heard to catch Bakugou before he did something that would attract the attention of police.

“You two fucking clowns better shut the fuck up before you get a taste of my foot shoved so far up your asses it’ll be coming out of your fat fucking mouths.” Bakugou growled, punching them each in the face, making sure to heat up his hand so that it would definitely leave a mark.

(y/n) looked around to see a few people watching, as she let Bakugou beat up the boys before she finally decided it was enough. She placed a hand on his shoulder, as he looked up, the feral look in his crimson orbs dissipating to a gentle one.

“I just wanna go. Can we please, before the police get here?” She questioned as he punched them and kicked them a few more times before standing up and nodding.

“You won’t be fucking needing these either.” Bakugou said, going through their wallets, taking the money out before snapping the cards in half and tossing them on the street next to the boys who remained on the ground. “Let’s go.” He held out his hand, as she grabbed it and they walked across the street. “I hate these fucking extras.” He grumbled as they got to the ramen restaurant. Bakugou Katsuki had every intention of using the money he had just taken to pay for everything, it was the least they could do.

The woman was on her way to her apartment, getting off early from her patrol because not only was it a Friday, but the day after was her 23rd birthday and her pro-hero boyfriend seemed to have planned something, despite her telling him he didn’t have to.

Her phone rang, taking (y/n) out of her thoughts as she slid the answer button seeing her boyfriend’s picture pop up. “Hey Kei.” She answered happily, stopping at the corner, waiting to cross the street.

“Hey, Kid.” Came his response, causing the black woman to smile. “You got off early right? You wanna get (your favorite food/ drink)?”

“Really?!” (y/n) grew excited, her voice raising an octave as a laugh bubbled from her full lips. The couple was usually very busy and that meant they didn’t have a lot of time to just go to restaurants and walk around the downtown area, but since they had managed to get the afternoon and weekend off, Hawks was going to take full advantage of it.

“Yeah.” He laughed back. “I’ll meet you there?”

“Ok! Love you.” She told him.

“Love you too, Kid.” He said back before hanging up. (y/n) crossed the street, walking towards their favorite restaurant, her hero costume folded in the black backpack she wore on her back. She too was a pro-hero, though she wasn’t as popular as her boyfriend, she had recently gone pro in Japan, already a famous pro in her native country. She slid her phone into one of the pockets of her black jeans, her simple white t-shirt half tucked into her pants.

She increased her stride, her smile widening as she saw the crimson wings of her boyfriend up ahead. He turned around his own smile growing as she got closer. “How was patrol?” She asked him as he hugged her, the pair pulling away and intertwining hands.

“It was fine...kinda boring.” Hawks answered as they walked inside the establishment.

“Woah.” The cashier said softly, after ringing up your orders. Hawks paid, even though she protested though he responded by saying it was her birthday weekend and she wasn’t allowed to pay. The cashier, who seemed a little older than the two of the pros, named Ukyo, handed her her drink practically ignoring Hawks.

Keigo frowned, growing slightly annoyed, though he wouldn’t really peg himself as the jealous type, Ukyo just made everything very uncomfortable and Hawks was growing irritated that (y/n) was uneasy. It was the protective nature in him, which he would admit could get a little intense at times.

“Um, thanks.” (y/n) replied with a slightly awkward laugh before looking at Hawks to say she was ready to go. They had planned to walk through the park nearby. As they were stepping away, Ukyo called out.

“Hey wait, pretty girl!” He called out, catching the dark skinned woman off guard. “You forgot something.” She turned, raising an eyebrow before going back towards where Ukyo stood behind the counter. He held out a napkin to her, his messy chicken scratch handwriting on the piece of paper. “It’s my number. You should call me sometime, I’d love to get to know you more.”

“I already have a great boyfriend.” (y/n) replied, giving him a smile as he still pushed the napkin to her, managing to stuff it into her bag. At this, Hawks stepped closer, still remaining silent, wanting to let her handle it because he didn’t want to come off as overbearing or suffocating. “Really, I’m not interested. I love my boyfriend.”

“Who? Him? But our kids would be so cute! They’d be great athletes, you know?” He smiled widely at her, grabbing onto her wrist to stop her from leaving. Hawks had heard enough, at (y/n)’s silence and the way her eyes seemed to bore into his own, he dislodged some feathers, sending them at the cashier, stopping them a few centimeters away from him.

“Let her go, before you make me really mad.” Hawks said, glaring at the male, sharpening the feathers into blade-like devices, his golden eyes shining with anger.

“Chill out, Man! She’s hot! She was practically asking for it!” Ukyo put his hands up, Hawks’ eyes narrowing as a growl almost sounded from deep in his chest.

“You’re lucky my girlfriend’s here.” Hawks chuckled darkly, as (y/n) placed her hand in his own. “I would’ve cut your disrespectful racist ass.” Hawks walked away with (y/n), sending the feathers at the wall behind the cashier, just narrowly missing him.

Hawks smirked as he stepped outside, hearing the high pitched scream that came out of Ukyo at the feathers going near him, fearing he was about to be sent to the hospital. Hawks glared at him through the shop window, his wings flapping behind him as if he was about to send more feathers causing Ukyo to scream again, though this time a wet spot began to grow in his khaki colored pants.

Hawks’ eyes lit up as a loud laugh fell from his mouth causing (y/n) to laugh lightly. “Fucking bitch.” Hawks muttered as they walked towards the park. “I should’ve sent the feathers into him.”

“No, you did enough Kei.” (y/n) giggled, Hawks growing happy that he had gotten her to laugh after that rude cashier incident.

Every week after that Hawks would purposely walk past the shop, launching a feather through the window and into the wall, an adult sized diaper held to the wall by the sharp crimson feather, a note usually attached saying:

‘just thought you might need to start wearing these.

I hate you,

Hawks.

Ps: Show this to anyone, tell anyone about this, or do something like that to another person again and I’ll send the next feather so far up your ass, you’ll need surgery to remove it. xoxo’

(i decided to insert another character, like Mineta but 100x worse and not jokingly either. His name is Shintani Narisuke.)

(y/n) was sitting in the common room where everyone from the general studies class usually hung out during their down time. Although, surprisingly it was empty except for the purple haired Shinsou and his lavender haired girlfriend, (y/n). It honestly was just a coincidence that the pair both had purple hair, though the girls from their class thought it was the cutest. (y/n) placed her head on one of Shinsou’s shoulders as they watched a random movie on his laptop, pushing her goddess braids so that she could be more comfortable.

The common room was empty only because one of (y/n)’s friends and classmates had told everyone that they couldn’t go into the common room because Shinsou and (y/n) were on a date. Everyone obeyed her...she was kind of scary when she was determined about something.

“How can he just get away with that?” (y/n) questioned, placing some popcorn into her mouth, pausing to place some in Shinsou mouth as they continued to stare at the screen. The pair alternated, the next time Shinsou threw some into his mouth and then fed some to (y/n).

“I hate that guy...he reminds me of that annoying little grape kid in 1-A.” Shinsou mumbled, causing her to laugh.

“Mineta?”

“We don’t speak his name.” Shinsou joked as the pair broke out into laughs again.

“Hey (your nickname)!” The pair turned, Shinsou pausing the movie, to see Shintari Narisuke enter the room. (y/n) raised an eyebrow at the use of her nickname, that ONLY Shinsou used for her.

“It’s (your full name).” She corrected him.

“Aw, don’t be like that.” The average height boy pouted, sitting down next to her, causing Shinsou to sit up more, a frown on his face.

“What do you want, Shintari? We’re busy here.” Shinsou chimed in, slightly annoyed as he rolled his tired purple eyes.

“Not that busy.” The aqua blue haired boy responded, flashing a fake smile at Shinsou. His eyes narrowed as the frown on his face deepened.

“What do you want?” Shinsou repeated.

“Hey (y/n)...” Shintari dragged out, looking at the black girl with big eyes.

“Yes?”

“Has anyone ever told you that you kind of look like Megan Thee Stallion?”

“No…” The girl answered, confused as to where this was going. To her they looked nothing alike, though she was one of her favorite female rappers. “We don’t even look alike.”

“Your ass does though.” He answered smugly. “You think you could split on me like she does?” (y/n)’s eyes widened as she tried to process what he had just said. She was at a loss for words, completely surprised that he would go that far.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Shinsou grew angry, standing up and getting in the blue haired fool’s face. He had noticed that she was still slightly shocked, which is why he decided to handle it, because normally she was the one that would jump to put someone who needed it in their place.

“She heard me. Right, (your nickname)?” He said teasingly, his eyes not even looking at Shinsou. The usually disinterested male grew increasingly more angry, at being ignored and at the boy for using his nickname for his girlfriend.

“Do you think you could answer something for me?” Shinsou questioned catching the boy’s attention as Shinsou’s grip on his shirt tightened.

“Yeah, what do you want, Villain?” Shintari asked, falling for the trap. Shinsou’s purple eyes glowed softly as he activated his quirk.

“Shut the fuck up and…” Shinsou paused, really wanting to tell the kid to go take a long walk off of a short pier, but he knew he would probably be in trouble if he did that, so he took a deep breath. “Lock yourself in your room for the rest of the week and don’t come out.” Shinsou ultimately decided, letting the boy go with a smug smirk watching him walk down the hall.

The purple haired male turned, his focus going to his girlfriend who had a sick look on her face. “You okay, kitty?” He asked softly, sitting beside her. She simply wrapped her arms around him, listening to his steady heartbeat.

“I hate that asshole.” She mumbled.

“I do too.” Shinsou agreed. “I’m sorry he said something like that to you. That was fucking gross.”

“Thanks for handling it.” She half smiled at him. “I think I would’ve killed him...then he really would’ve called me a villain.”

“Who gives a fuck, let’s finish the movie.” Shinsou laughed lightly, causing her to laugh too. “Besides, he already calls me a villain.”

(For this one (y/n) works in a bakery)

The black girl came from the back of the shop, a tray of fresh cookies in her hands, the sweet smell filling the store. She opened the glass cabinet, carefully transferring the cookies inside before going to return the tray to the back of the bakery.

Customers sat throughout the store, reading books from the bookshelves in the corner, drinking their coffees and teas while working, or simply just enjoying the warm atmosphere with their friends. (y/n) came back to the front, taking her place behind the register after washing her hands.

She looked up from where she had been adjusting a machine to the door, the sound of the ringing bell meaning someone new had entered. “Hi Baby.” The deep gravely voice said. She could hear the smile in his voice as she looked up, her own smile growing as she immediately recognized the voice.

“Hi Staples.” She teasingly replied. “What are you doing over here? I thought you were busy today.”

“I needed more.” He replied, holding up the bag at his side with the black hair dye inside.

“You want my help when I get off?” She clarified as he nodded, his blue eyes looking over her appearance. “What? You don’t like my uniform?” A soft smile on her face as she wiped down the counter.

“No, you look good.” His signature smirk appearing on his burned face. (y/n)’s heart fluttered slightly, the fiery boy never failed to make her heart skip a beat even after two years of dating.

“I get off in 50 minutes. You wanna hang around? I just made a fresh batch of cookies.”

“The ones I like?” His eyes seemed to sparkle like a kid in a candy store. Dabi loved to act big and bad, and that side of him was definitely...hot, but you loved to see the goofy childish side of him as well.

“Yeah, your favorite.” She replied, a large smile on her face as he nodded quickly, the dark hood of the sweatshirt pulled up on his head. “Alright. Here. I’ll be done soon.” She handed him a few cookies, pressing a kiss to his cheek as he slinked off to the seat he usually took in the corner of the shop when he waited for you.

(y/n) watched as he stood, picking up a book he had already started last time he came, sitting back down and flipping to the page he had left off on. Dabi...Touya wasn’t a bad guy, no matter what anyone told her, otherwise.

She was pulled out of her thoughts at the chime of the bell, a blonde man walking into the store. He must’ve been a traveler because he looked lost, especially with the way he had pulled up directions onto his phone. (y/n) gave him a friendly smile, “Hi, what can I get you?”

“I’ll take a...hot chocolate.” He said weirdly, giving her a smirk as his light eyes trailed up and down her body, at least the part that wasn’t hidden behind a counter. She nodded uneasily.

“Anything else?” Her mood had dropped, already tired of the male customer.

“How about your number?”

“No, sorry. I’m working and I-” He cut the girl off as she handed him his drink, ringing it up after she had made it.

“Come on, if it’s because I’m white...I’m hung like a black guy, if you know what I mean.” He said to the girl, Dabi’s eyes narrowing as he practically glared a hole through the blonde man.

“E-excuse me?” (y/n) repeated, blinking as she ran her hands over her apron, stepping back from him. She wasn’t even sure that had just happened, nothing that bad had ever happened at work before, just the occasional Wow, so pretty or Your hair is so fluffy, like a cloud from a few children when she wore it in an afro, that made her smile though, the kids were cute and everyone was generally respectful.

“If that’s why you won’t give me your number, you don’t have to worry about that.” He repeated.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need you to shut the fuck up.” Dabi chimed in, catching his girlfriend completely off guard. She hadn’t even noticed he had come up behind him or moved from his seat.

“What’s your problem man? I don’t think this involves you at all.” The blonde guy shot him a glare before turning back to the black girl behind the counter and stepping closer. Dabi’s blue eyes seemed to hold small flames in them as his anger grew. A dark chuckle left his lips as he harshly brought his hand down onto the blonde shoulder, heating it up until the man’s jacket was practically smoking.

“That’s my girlfriend, man.” Dabi told the man mockingly, his voice low and his eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t mind you calling her pretty, because she’s gorgeous but if you disrespect her, then you’re gonna deal with me.”

“Ew you fucking creep. I’ll call the police.” He threatened after turning and seeing Dabi’s face. Dabi tilted his head to the side slightly, a slow smile growing on his face, though it seemed more eerie than anything.

“I’ll give you something to call them about.” Dabi threatened. “Now, why don’t you leave and if I see you around here again, I’ll burn your ass so bad you’ll be virtually unrecognizable.”

“Fuck all of you. This place is shit anyway and the bitch behind the counter looks like a fucking monkey.” The guy announced going to walk out of the bakery.

“Not acceptable. Apologize.” Dabi demanded, his hand going around the blonde’s neck as he heated his hand up, making sure it would leave a burn.

“Sorry.” The guy cried out, Dabi rolling his eyes before shoving him towards the door, a scoff leaving his lips as the guy tripped on the way out.

“You know you’re gorgeous right?” Dabi questioned as (y/n)’s best friend and coworker told her to go home after that incident. Dabi grabbed (y/n)’s hand, waving back at her coworker before the couple walked towards their apartment, (y/n) excited to dye Dabi’s hair.

Tags:

#bnha x poc!reader #requested #katsukisblackteddy #dabi x reader #hawks x reader #shinsou x reader #bakugou x reader #bnha x black!reader #ewww men are so trashy sometimes 🤢#pls stop fetishizing black women and girls #it’s not cute #bnha x reader

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manonblaqkbeak · 3 years

Text

Sugar, sugar

(genuinely hate coming up with titles lol)

this is just rowaelin being pining idiots, one of my fave tropes for day 11--delayed love confession

just a note, the lifestyle in this fic is more of a background note and doesnt really take centre stage in this fic. it’s one ive been tempted to write for a while tbh but didnt really get around to it until now

cw: very, very light smut (like barely non existent, but just in case), a lil bit of swearing

enjoy! :)

3k words (officially my longest fic, yay!)

Every thought in Aelin's mind was blank. She trudged through her apartment that she shared with Nehemia, absentmindedly kicking off her heels that Rowan purchased for her months ago. Then the light jacket she wore joined the shoes, the fabric was perfectly soft and perfect for the autumn chill.

It was yet another piece of item that Rowan purchased for her. A lot of the things she had know were thanks to Rowan, either from his own wallet or from the biweekly allowance he sent her—a generous allowance that was a thousand times better than her weekly paycheck from the bookstore she'd been working at since she turned twenty-two; her business degree had turned out to be useless and so she turned to the bookstore that had been her stable job for three years.

Aelin barely touched her weekly wage now, it was practically buried underneath the money the Rowan gave her.

Because Rowan Whitethorn, thirty-five and a successful CEO who was well known, was her sugar daddy. Had been now for fourteen months. But he was more than that, more than just a man that paid her to spend time with him. He respected her, was loyal to her, listened to her and responded with actual sentences instead of a word or two like other men she had dated. He was charming, didn't treat her like she was nothing but arm candy, and she knew him so well, as he knew her, and each fortnight she sometimes forgot their whole arrangement, but she was sharply reminded when she received the notification from her bank that the two and a half thousand dollars that Rowan sent her was now in her savings account.

When she agreed to their arrangement after several get-to-know you dates, Rowan had wanted to give her three and a half grand every week, and gods Aelin had been tempted because she had never had so much money in her life, but told him that it was far too much and negotiated.

Two and a half thousand was the lowest that Rowan was willing to go, and even though Aelin only knew him for two weeks at that point, she could tell that he would not budge, so she agreed to the amount.

The first time that money had landed in her account, Aelin had thought that maybe she had imagined the whole thing, but the money was a sharp reminder of what she know was—a sugar baby. Those words still didn't feel like they applied to her.

And he still spent money on her when they spent time together. Just last week he gifted her with diamond earrings in the shapes of roses with a necklace to match. She wore them tonight, not because he bought them for her but because she genuinely loved the pieces.

Needing something sweet—despite the fact she had only finished her chocolate hazelnut gelato twenty minutes ago—she dug through her fridge and found the brownies that Nehemia had baked the other day. She told herself that she would leave some for her long-time friend, but Aelin really doubted that would happen.

Aelin relished in the cold air of the fridge as she found the new can of whipped cream on the top shelf. The fridge was one of the first things she purchased with the money she was now being gifted with (and after that came a new washer and dryer, a dish-washing machine and television. Almost everything in her apartment was brand new now, the food were actual brands instead of the generic, tasteless shit. She had bras that fit her properly and were so damned comfortable that she forgot she was wearing them half the time).

The old fridge was a cheap hunk of junk that she and Nehemia purchased off Facebook marketplace for a hundred dollars, it barely kept things cold, but with expensive rent and bills and general life things, Nehemia and her couldn't afford anything better.

Which was how she ended up in this situation. Picking up more shifts barely gave them anything extra, because the economy right now in Terrasen was shit. Nehemia had made a joke about needing sugar daddies, and Aelin, knowing that Nehemia could never really do such a thing, had decided that maybe it was a good idea.

Nehemia had told Aelin that she was insane for pursuing such a thing, and that she had only been joking, but Aelin was not and that she could handle herself if things went wrong.

Nehemia had told her not to do anything, but Aelin was determined and started her search. It had taken a while to find a website that was genuine and didn't make her feel like she had to scrub her eyes out with bleach.

She created her page in private, because she not only was Nehemia against the idea, but so was Elide and Lysandra—she didn't dare tell Aedion what she was doing. Her cousin could be an overprotective pain in her ass at times, and Aelin was very well aware that if Aedion caught wind of what she was doing, he would have locked her up in her room without any type of device so she couldn't go forward with her plan.

She appreciated their concern, she did, but she was a consenting, tax-paying adult, and if she wanted to use her time to get paid spending time with a rich man, then Aelin was allowed to do exactly that.

It wasn't prostitution, she had looked it up, because it was the sugar babies that had the power and so that was how it went with her and Rowan.

Aelin didn't even have sex with Rowan until it was the sixth month anniversary of her and Rowan's...relationship (and gods, it was the best sex Aelin ever had. Rowan was a generous and completely unselfish lover).

He was the first one she came across on the site and almost drooled down herself when she saw his picture. Silver hair, pine-green eyes, a beautiful tattoo down the length of his left arm and tanned skin, he was stupidly attractive and only ten years old than her.

Aelin messaged him first only after being on the site for ten minutes, deciding that surely he was the best one and that she needn't bother to look at any other candidates.

They hit it off straight away, and after deciding on a restaurant to meet at, Aelin had informed Nehemia of the matter, which she was promptly met with question after question: why can't a thirty-four year old man find someone his own age? Is he one of those men that can't date a woman five minutes older than him because of some stupid made up reason? How do you know for certain that it's him in the picture? What if he's cat-fishing you? What if he's a freak, or a killer? What if he's just pretending to be rich to kidnap you? What if, what if, what if?

And so after a heated discussion, Nehemia had come along on her date-that-wasn't-really-a-date and sat a few tables away from her and Rowan, watching them—especially him—the entire time like a hawk.

Aelin had completely forgotten that her friend was there, so enraptured by Rowan and what he did and how he saw life.

It had been fourteen months of seeing Rowan and genuinely enjoying spending time with him and weeks ago, she realised that she wanted it to be something more. That she had come to care for him, not because of the money, but purely because it was Rowan and he made her feel seen and he wasn't afraid of her, because she had once been told by an ex that she could be too much and that he couldn't handle all her baggage.

Aelin wanted a life with him.

So Aelin told Rowan she loved him when he dropped her off tonight after their dinner and a movie date, telling him how she felt, and he had said thank you. He gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and went home, leaving behind the pine-and-snow scent of him.

Aelin really wanted to find a hole to crawl into and die.

She was scarfing down her third brownie when Nehemia's bedroom door opened, her friend clad in an old matching pj set, her slippers shuffling across the tile.

“What happened? Are you okay?” her friend asked upon seeing Aelin's guttered look. Her dark brows furrowed. “Did that bastard hurt you? If he did, I'll—”

“He didn't do anything,” Aelin interrupted her friend. Taking the food, Aelin planted herself on the teal blue velvet sofa Rowan gave her for Yulemas last year, ignoring the scent of not just him, but of them both from when he came over after work just the other day with pizza and a DVD that she insisted that she watched because it was too good not to, when they forgot all about the movie as Rowan buried himself inside her, leaving hickeys all over her neck that she had to cover up with thick concealer.

Nehemia joined her on the couch, her friend momentarily forgetting for now that she had walked in on her and Rowan just moments after they finished, muttering under her breath in Eyllwe as she glared at them defiling the couch, and gave her a look that Aelin knew that Nehemia would listen to every word that came out from her.

And when Aelin was done recounting the story, all Nehemia could come up with was, “Oh.”

“Yes, 'oh,'. I've probably fucked up the whole thing. So don't be surprised if I call you on your lunch break tomorrow telling you he's broken things off.”

“Aelin, I don't think he will. I know that I'm not the biggest fan of your...situation—”

“I'm aware,” Aelin said, cutting her friend off. “You still won't let me buy you a new mattress, even though yours is hard as a brick and lumpy as hell. I've told you that you can pay me—”

“Aelin,” Nehemia said, “we're not talking about mattresses right now. As I was saying, I doubt he'll break things off because I've seen the way he looks at you. I still think he's too old for you, but he cares for you. You probably just caught him by surprise.”

“How does he look at me?” Aelin was observant, but sometimes when she was with Rowan, all her observation skills went out the window.

“Like he loves you,” Nehemia said, no hint of doubt in her voice.

Aelin sighed, her feelings slowly starting to crush her. “I guess I'll just have to take your word for it.”

Sighing once more, Aelin put the food back in the fridge, showered and went to bed, forgoing her usual night texting ritual with Rowan.

She really wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

X X X X X X

Rowan couldn't concentrate, which wasn't a good thing, since his job dealt with having to concentrate all the time. But no matter what mind-focusing techniques he did, he couldn't stop thinking about Aelin.

Couldn't stop thinking about how she said she was in love with him. How her beautiful eyes had been sparkling when she said those words to him. And how the light in them dimmed when he said thank you and kissed her on the cheek, telling her that he would talk to her later. But he hadn't texted her, nor did she.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you. He really couldn't believe that was what he said. Felt like an utter fool and a bastard as he realised he probably crushed her heart. Aelin didn't like being vulnerable, and she had been when she said those words and he had gone and fucked it all up.

Rowan loved Aelin, he did, but he truly wasn't prepared for those words. He loved how on the weekends they would be up at one am, baking chocolate goodies, dancing in the quiet kitchen, humming quietly to Aelin's classical music playlist, with her wearing not the nightgowns that he loved, but one of his old hoodies.

He didn't think that he would get along with her so well once they met, thinking that their online interactions were nothing but a fluke. He was moments away from deleting the profile because he didn't actually create it, but Fenrys had, his friend grumbling that he needed a girlfriend, with Rowan arguing that creating a profile on a sugar daddy site was not dating but probably the opposite, when Aelin messaged him.

His life-long friend didn't listen, much to Rowan's annoyance—but he didn't grab his phone out of his friends hand; Rowan blamed it on the several whiskys he had downed by that point.

Aelin bewitched him on that first meet up. She was intelligent as hell and funny, and creative and beautiful. He was aware of why she was on the date with him, but he didn't care, just as long as he got to see her again.

Fourteen months later and Rowan was still bewitched. He wanted to be with her on a permanent basis, but wasn't completely sure how to take that step.

Clearly, Aelin had taken that step for them, and Rowan was the worlds biggest moron.

I love you, Rowan. I'm in love with you.

Thank you.

Groaning, Rowan turned away from his computer and looked at the skyline, ignoring the buildings to instead watch the puffy clouds drift by.

Aelin loved watching the clouds, loved stargazing, loved questioning about the universe and what the skies held.

He never really paid any of that stuff attention, not until he met her.

Rowan didn't want to lose her, didn't want her to think that he was about to break up with her over this. He had to see her, so he grabbed his keys and wallet, told his secretary to hold his calls for the rest of the day, and went to visit Aelin.

X X X X X X

It had been an usually busy day for a Wednesday and Aelin was glad for her lunch break as she trudged up to the roof of the shopping centre. She wasn't really allowed up here, but she wanted some fresh air and to feel the sun against her skin as she sat down and dug into her lunch—fast food, unfortunately for her, because she was so frazzled from last night that she completely forgot about making a pack lunch.

Rowan hadn't called her, or texted her. Not even an email had been sent her way.

Aelin hated that she felt so damned mopey. She was an independent woman, but gods, even a good morning text would have been fine.

She finished her lunch, popping several mints into her mouth to get rid of the onion taste, when the roof door crashed open and a familiar hulking figure came into view.

He must have spoken to Elide to find her here.

Aelin's brow furrowed. “Rowan, what are you doing here?” Oh gods, surely he wasn't going to break up with her, she still had hours to go; there'd be no way she could work if she had tears in her eyes.

Taking her hands in his, Aelin stood up. She steeled herself against whatever he was going to say.

“I love you, Aelin. I'm in love with you, too,” Rowan said, his eyes soft and full of genuine love. Aelin's heart shot up into her throat. “I want a life with you. I want us to buy a home, one that has warmth and character, and a big garden. I want a dog. And kids too, if you want, I know that you've never mentioned it, but if you don't want any then that is completely fine. I want to support you in whatever endeavors you want to take, and if you ever want to go back to university, then I'll support you, or if you want to find a way to use your business degree, I'll help you with that, too. Whatever you want Aelin, I'll give it to you, as long as you're by my side, I'll be happy.”

Aelin was silent for so long that Rowan thought that maybe he shocked her into silence. But eventually, she smiled, one that was dazzling in its beauty that it took his breath away.

“You love me?”

“I do, Aelin, I love you.”

She kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

Rowan groaned at the amusement in her tone, in her eyes. “You're never going to let me live that down, are you?”

She smirked. “Definitely not. It'll be a nice story to tell our children...one day. For now, I think we should contend with being proper significant others.”

Rowan nodded, smiling. “I like the sound of that.”

“Good, because I need to get back to work, since I'm no longer accepting your allowances. I won't deny the use of your credit card, but other than that, you are no longer my sugar daddy.”

It was Rowan's turned to smirk, and it was the one that made her core clench. “How about I be 'daddy' instead?”

Aelin snorted, even as she clenched around nothing again. Smacking his arm lightly, Aelin kissed him. “Only if you behave,” she said against his lips, “and now I really need to go back to work.”

Rowan walked her back, their fingers laced together, and as she turned to say goodbye, Aelin said, “I'll see you later, daddy.”

Rowan groaned, and it took everything in him not to take her hand and into his car to have his wicked way with her.

By the time he thought of a response, Aelin was already back to work, helping a customer with an impressive stack of books in her arms.

But she knew he was still there, because the way she swayed her hips to the counter was all for him, and when she saw him watching her, Aelin winked, making Rowan's heart flutter in his chest.

He really did love her. And he would live with her teasing him for the rest of his life, just as long as she was with him.

#rowaelin #rowaelinmonth #my work

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secretlysheikah · 3 years

Text

Discovering Hyrule

So just what was Hyrule like when the chain stumbled upon him in his natural habitat? Well read and find out. Did someone ask for bad ass Hyrule? No? Well too bad you’re getting it today.

I like to dedicate this to the lovely @vengeful-sock for always being there for me and always being willing to listen to my rambles.

Don’t wanna read it here? OKAY! Check it out here on Ao3 Please enjoy my take on our most precious of beans:

Start Here: They stuck out like a sore thumb, Link thought to himself as he watched the three men walk through town. They were dressed strangely and they were all together too clean, making them completely at odds with the town they strolled through. One was tall with odd markings on his face and wore very nice and shiny armor. The other who was slightly shorter sported what looked like a rather nice animal pelt around his shoulders. The last, well that white cape would have drawn anyone’s eye but the large gem that clasped the cape around his neck certainly wasn’t helping.

They were already drawing the eyes of the hardened townsfolk and Link could see the avarice that burned like coals deep in their eyes. The three men didn’t seem to notice however and simply continued to go about their day. They simply talked amongst themselves in hushed tones and went about buying potions and other supplies that hinted at adventure, completely oblivious or maybe indifferent to the various gazes that clung to their backs. Link kept his eye on the group too, though it was more out of curiosity and concern rather than greed. They were certainly odd characters to be sure. His guess was that they were some kind of nobility playing at being adventurers, though he had never seen them whenever he would visit Zelda. He supposed it wasn’t out of the question that they came from a neighboring Kingdom but he had his doubts.

Link tugged the hood of his cloak over his face and sipped at a bowl of thin broth and half wilted vegetables he cradled in his hands as they passed by. They were muttering something about finding the hero of this land and he smirked. He must be quite popular if nobles from other Kingdoms were looking for him. He took another long sip from his bowl, too bad they wouldn’t find him. He was quite adept at avoiding unwanted attention especially from a group of odd men looking to find him. If he could hide from monsters that called for his blood, and the various thugs that wanted his head as a trophy these guys were shit out of luck. He felt a twinge of apprehension pinch at his gut at the idea of just avoiding the group all together however. The whole situation was odd and he didn’t care for it one bit, but he had to admit he was curious.

He blinked away the steam from his eyes and slurped the rest of the thin soup down before he stowed the bowl away in his pack and dropped a few rupees on the merchant’s cart. Then he was away, following the three hopeless men at a distance. As much as he wanted to leave them to their own devices, he knew he would feel terrible if he heard that anything happened to them. He didn’t know why, it wasn’t like they were his responsibility but still the feeling clung to him.

‘What if they need my help?’ He thought to himself as he kept his eyes down as he walked. He slowed his pace just a smidge, making sure he blended in with the half starved and filthy townsfolk that bustled about their day, unwilling to call attention to himself just yet. Even though he had just got into town he was already ready to leave, in fact he was on his way out of town when he had spotted the strange men walking down the lane. He had to admit that when he saw them his curiosity had been peaked, and it appeared he hadn’t been the only one. As he meandered along he noticed that it wasn’t just him that was following the group. A quick glance to the side granted him the sight of one of Brutus’s boys following at a pace on the other side of the lane. He looked casual enough, but Link could tell what he was up to.

He tugged on the edge of his hood, making sure it was well and truly covering his face as he quickened his steps. The group was still dawdling around the different street vendors and he noted how they seemed to have bottomless rupee bags. He grimaced at them, were they just clueless or were they stupid? Could they not notice the eyes on them?

“Stupid nobles,” Link grumbled to himself, they were going to get themselves mugged at this rate and he severely doubted they knew how to even use those swords they had strapped to their backs.

Link watched as they were in the process of putting away some fresh bread they had just bought when he spotted the rest of the local thugs. Just ahead of the group there were two other men, both with their heads down and hulking and all together not the people he wanted to see. They were a part of Brutus’s crew alright, if the dull red cloaks they wore were any indication of their alliance.

The way they were standing shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way of the odd group only meant one thing. Any doubt he might have had about what the men had planned was erased when out of the corner of his eye he watched as the other man quickly crossed the lane and grabbed the man in with the white cape. In a blink all three men were bundled into the alley way just past a clothing stall. Link let out a small curse and jogged forwards to the mouth of the alley way with renewed urgency.

“What is this all about?” Link heard the man with the fancy armor ask as he rounded the opening of the alleyway. The tone of voice commanded respect, though it didn’t seem to faze the three brutes. Still Link was taken aback. The voice hadn’t been haughty, but instead firm and rough like he was used to ordering around a band of rowdy soldiers. The command hung in his chest like a weight and it wasn’t even leveled at him. He blinked in surprise, he had not expected that sort of militaristic tone to come from a noble, so maybe this ‘noble’ was in fact a soldier? A warrior perhaps? Either way it was clear he was clueless of the situation he found himself in.

Link was about to call out when one of the more burly of the muggers laughed and drew a blade. Before any of them could react he slammed the man in the fur pelt against the wall of the alley and pressed the edge of the knife into the soft flesh of his throat. Blood trickled ever so slightly from the place where the knife sat and it felt like the world was holding its breath. This was not good.

“That’s a nice fur you got there, I think it would suit me nicely,” The brute said blatantly ignoring the other man’s question as he eyed the pelt on the man’s back. The man in question bared his teeth like a beast but the hulking thug just smiled and dug the knife just a touch deeper into his throat.

“None of you move or I’ll have Garret here slice his throat,” the cloaked figure that grasped the man in the white cape said and Link could tell he was grinning under the hood. The other two travelers nodded quickly and raised their hands so they were in plain view.

“So what, you just want our stuff?” The man pressed against the wall asked with an incredulous laugh and Link noticed the way all three of the odd travelers looked at each other. They seemed confused, and maybe a bit relieved? But that didn’t make any sense. Link felt his confusion building to a fevered pitch and before he could stop himself he found himself responding to the man’s question himself.

“I thought that was fairly obvious,” Link said quietly and was rewarded with six sets of eyes looking at him. He shifted uncomfortably under the weight of their stares and grasped the handle of his sword just a bit tighter. He let out a light cough and straightened before he addressed the group at large.

“Hello there, I’ll give you a few seconds to get that knife away from his throat. If you’re quick about it I may even let you keep your dignity,” Link said cheerily from beneath his hood, shifting slightly so that his smile flashed from it’s depths. There was a pause, where no one seemed to know what to do and Link waited. He watched as it seemed his words finally broke through the surprise of the pseudo leader of the muggers as he finally turned to face him fully.

“Oh, it’s you,” The man sneered and Link offered him a small wave.

“You are correct, now, please let them be on their way,” He said and frowned when the three men began to laugh loudly. Link pursed his lips and nodded, letting his hand fall away from his sword and joining in with the laughter. He quickly scanned the faces of the three travelers, letting his eyes meet with the taller traveler before he gave a curt nod.

“And what makes you think we have to do a damn thing you say? Now get out of here now and maybe we won’t tell Brutus that you snuck back into town,” He said and Link felt his heart race in anticipation. He watched as the taller man shifted ever so slightly so he was closer to the knife wielding mugger.

“So does this mean you’re not going to let them go?” He asked and was answered by more derisive laughter.

“So be it,” Link muttered and in one smooth motion he dashed forwards quicker than blinking and reached up, grabbing the man’s wrist who was holding the knife and twisted. The knife fell to the ground with a clatter and the brute let out a yelp of pain, then all Hell broke loose.

As soon as the knife had been dropped, the man who had been pinned to the wall lunged forwards like a wild animal and tackled the person holding on to the man in the white cape. Link felt an arm snake around his neck and he was hauled backwards off his feet. His hands flew up to the arm that was now choking off his airway and he grunted. He tried to bring up his legs and kick off the wall but the thug must have stepped back because he felt nothing but air.

The man holding him only managed a couple steps backwards when he was stopped by the taller man with the shiny armor. Link watched out of the corner of his eye as the traveler grabbed the arm that was compressing his airway and pulled it away causing him to drop to the ground. Link sucked in a grateful breath before he got swiftly to his feet again and scanned the alley for the last man but he was nowhere to be seen. That would be a problem. He didn’t dwell on it too long before he spun around hands raised and magic flaring to face the others and saw that the remaining men had already been taken care of. The scuffle had barely lasted a minute, which he had to admit was impressive. He had not expected them to hold their own so well. He blinked, letting his hands fall to his sides as he looked at each of the odd travelers in turn. They all looked okay for the most part besides some bruises and the one slice on the feral man’s throat.

“Who are you people? There’s no way you’re from around here and I doubt you’re nobility from a surrounding Kingdom,” He asked quickly as he moved forwards and began unclasping the cloaks from around the unconscious men on the ground.

“Nobility?” The one with the fur pelt choked out and Link watched as he smacked the man with the armor on the arm. The man with the armor let out a deep laugh of his own and Link felt like he was being made fun of. He pointedly ignored them and turned back to the task at hand.

He had a hard time getting the cloak off one of the downed men and he shot a look up to the man with the white cape and gestured for him to help. He seemed to know what Link wanted and he hurried forward and helped pull the cloaks free from both of the unconscious thugs.

“Uh we are, well it’s sort of a long story,” The man in the white cape said and offered him a small smile. Link eyed him up and down and threw the cloak at him.

“Put this on,” he said quickly before he turned to the other man with the fancy armor and repeated the action.

“You too, you guys stick out like a sore thumb.” He said as he dusted the dirt off his pants and eyed the last man. Blood was collecting around his collar, and he seemed a bit pale around the eyes, though he was putting in a good effort at hiding his discomfort. Link moved forward and grabbed at his water skin and handed it over to him.

“Are you alright? You look a little pale,” Link asked as he moved a bit closer to get a better look at the cut on his throat.

“I’ll be alright, thank you for the assist,” He said in between gulps of water. Link nodded towards him and turned to face the others.

“Quickly now, explain,” He snapped and waited impatiently for the answer.

“Quick answer is that we are the Heroes of Hyrule from the past and future on a mission from Hylia. We don’t know exactly what the mission is yet but we assume, at this moment we are looking for the hero of this era, or at least that is what the sword on Sky’s back says.” The man with the odd markings said quickly as he pulled the hood over his head and crossed his arms. Link didn’t know what to say to that information, and honestly he was not expecting that whopper of a tale.

They were looking for the hero, to join a quest that they didn’t even know all the details for? Why? His mind was filled with a whirlwind of questions and he didn’t even know where to start. One thing was for sure though, this whole thing reeked of a trap in the making and he wasn’t liking the idea of joining. Not without more information first and even then that was still debatable. He opened and closed his mouth for a moment as he tried to figure out just what he wanted to ask first.

“Who is Sky?” Link shook his head, out of all the questions that was the one he asked first? The three other’s blinked and looked at each other. Clearly they hadn’t been thinking about that question either.

“Oh, uh, well my name is Sky“ The one with the white cape answered. Then he pointed to the armored man, “his name is Time and that,” He said with a quick gesture to the man with the pelt, “...Is Twilight.” He finished and each of them gave him a nod as confirmation.

“Those are strange names, but we really don’t have time for that now. We have to get out of here. You guys have drawn way too much attention to yourselves,” Link said curtly as he jogged to the opening of the alley and peered around the corner. He didn’t see anyone actively looking for them but he was sure that wouldn’t last long.

He eyed the cart of cloaks next to the alley way and snagged a dark green cloak from the rack. He paused and dug through his meager rupee pouch and tossed what he hoped would be enough on the counter top. He was loathed to steal anything from the townsfolk. They were all struggling and he rather himself missed a few meals than have the shop keep suffering for his selfish choice.

He jogged back to the group and tossed the newly dubbed Twilight the cloak. He put it on without any prompting and drew the hood up around his head. Deeming them good enough to sneak out he gestured for them to follow and they made their way back to the lane.

“Slouch your shoulders and stop looking around so much,” Link hissed to them as they hurried their way to the town’s gate. Even with the cloaks it still appeared that they stuck out. They stood too tall, walked with a gate that spoke of authority and were all together too curious.

“Honestly you’re supposed to be heroes. Didn’t you have to, I don’t know, blend in? Sneak around? At least be the slightest bit aware of your surroundings?” Link grumbled as he physically grabbed Sky’s hood and forced him to look down.

“Who are you? Why are you so keen to help us?” Twilight grumbled from behind them and Link spared him a look.

“Just a hermit, a traveler if you will. I just… Don’t like the idea that Brutus’s goons were going after more people is all,” It wasn’t completely a lie, he reasoned as he bowed his head a bit lower. He could feel the stares on him and it made him nervous. He didn’t like all the attention on him. Tugging his cloak tighter around him he stepped up his pace and didn’t look back.

Finally the town gate was in sight and Link could have skipped with joy. They were nearly there, just a few more yards and they could put the town behind them and then he could slip away and be done with this mess.

“Oh HERO, where do you think you’re going?” A heavy voice called after him and Link stiffened before slowing to a stop. He bent his head forward as he heard the rag tag group stop as well, and turned to look at him. He closed his eyes for a moment before he straightened and turned to face the much larger man.

“Brutus,” He said in a clipped tone, pointedly ignoring the stares of the others that were now boring into him. So much for keeping who he was a secret. Brutus sauntered towards him and Link took a slow step back, making sure to give himself enough room to work. Brutus, unlike the thin and hard eyed townsfolk, was a burly man. He was clearly well fed and used to getting what he wanted and it stuck in Link’s craw. He had risen to infamy in the town about a year ago after he managed to usurp the other more prominent gang that had once called this little town their own. Ever since then he had made it a point to show off at any chance he got. He would strut around in blood red cloaks and demand the merchants give him whatever he wanted. The few that had fought back were found dead in their beds the next day.

Link had kept his eye on him since then, and had only allowed Brutus to remain when the townsfolk practically begged him to stay out of the situation. It had bothered him greatly but no matter how much he tried to change their minds he was always told to stay out of it. So he had respected their wishes, but had made it a point that whenever he was in town he would pay more rupees for goods as well as cause trouble to the thugs when he saw them bullying the merchants. Naturally this had garnered Brutus’s attention and they had their fair share of scuffles and earned a bounty on his head.

“Did you ever find that tooth of yours?” Link asked casually and was graced with a sneer. Even from this distance he could see the black hole where one of Brutus’s front teeth had once been. Link felt a smile creep unbidden across his face. He remembered the scuffle fondly, even though he got a knife to the ribs he had still gotten his fair share of hits in.

“I still owe you for that. I think your head would be a fair trade off,” Brutus said and Link let out a belly laugh.

“I would love to see you try,” He scoffed, pleased at the red flush that colored the larger man’s cheeks. He really shouldn’t be snarking off at the brute, but he found he couldn’t help it. The man annoyed him and he could do with a knocking down of a few pegs.

“Sadly today is not the day Brutus, I have things to attend to,” Link dismissed and turned to usher the others who were staring at him wide eyed. He offered them a nod and began to stride away when he heard footsteps running up behind him. Sensing danger, Link ducked and felt the wind of a sword swipe over top of his head. Before he could turn around he heard the screech of metal screeching against metal and he turned around to see a green cloak blocking his view of the larger man. He stood quickly and looked on in amazement as the feral man, Twilight snarled and pushed back against Brutus’s sword with his own.

“How dare you, attacking when your opponent's back is turned,” Twilight snarled and forced the man back a few steps before breaking his sword away from where it was locked with Brutus’s.

“What is the runt to you? Some sort of bastard child of yours?” Brutus snarled and Link could see the way Twilight bristled at the insult.

“He is the hero of Hyrule, show some respect,” Twilight growled and Brutus squinted his eyes.

“Respect for that pitiful waste? He should feel honored to be in my presence!” Brutus said as he brandished his sword once again. Twilight readied his own blade, ready to go on the attack once more but this time Link was the faster one. He stepped smoothly in front of Twilight and with power booming through his veins summoned one of his more powerful spells. There were bursts of white hot light and the smell of fresh ozone as the bolts of lightning thundered around the brute effectively breaking up the scuffle. Link grit his teeth and continued the barrage until Brutus made a hasty retreat as the bolts continued to strike the browned earth around him.

“Enough!” Link shouted as he let the magic go, satisfied with the distance he created between Brutus and the others. He straightened and let his hand fall. He could taste the copper tang of electricity that still hung in the air around him. He felt slightly breathless at the display he had just released and he worked on steadying his breaths. He could feel a tremor starting to build in his muscles and he clutched his hands in order to slow the trembling that was building in his arms before he addressed the other man. It wouldn’t do to show weakness now, not with so many eyes on him.

“Please, Brutus, I don’t wish to harm you, but I will if I must. Go now and leave us be,” Link called out to the hulking brute and threw a gesture out to the group behind him, signaling them to continue on. Link placed a hand on Twilight’s shoulder and squeezed until the other hero sheathed his sword and stalked away to follow the others. He held Brutus’s wide eyed, terrified gaze and couldn’t stop the pang of guilt that zinged through his heart. He didn’t care for the man but that didn’t mean he wanted the other dead, even if the feeling wasn’t shared. He let his eyes fall away from him and turned to follow the others out of town. He could hear stuttered insults and threats coming from behind him but he paid them no mind.

Link worked at keeping his gait steady as he made to catch up with the three others. He had really used too much magic just then but he didn’t want to show it. He could feel the tell tale ache in his muscles that spoke of the strain he just put on his magic stores and he hoped that it wasn’t too obvious. As it was, Link barely noticed that the others had slowed to a stop to wait for him until he almost ran into them. He could feel their eyes on him and he struggled not to look away.

“Were you really going to strike that man with lightning?” The man named Time asked him incredulously as he pulled his hood down. Link grimaced and shook his head slowly, inwardly wincing at the poor impression he must have given them.

“And waste my magic on a thug like Brutus? It’s not worth my time. Now put your hood back on and let’s get out of here. There are too many eyes watching us still and they will follow. We have to lose them.” Link said as he tried his best to play off the question and keep the others moving. He didn’t look behind him to check if they were following, choosing to trust that they would.

They walked for a little while until Link found a cave that he deemed hidden enough to make sure no one from the small town would find them and made a small fire to rest by. Link watched as the other three men removed their cloaks and settled down for the night. He still hadn’t removed his own, not wanted to get too comfortable in case this all turned out to be an elaborate trick.

“So I suppose you have questions, where would you like to start?” Link asked after everyone had sat for a little while. He looked at them all in turn and waited for someone to ask the question he was sure to be coming.

“The man from the town said you were the hero, is this true?” Time asked as he held Link’s gaze.

“That is correct, I am the hero,” Link answered in the affirmative and waited.

“Well that makes things easier,” Sky said happily as he pulled the bread he had bought from the merchant in town. Link felt his stomach twist painfully at the scent and he prayed that his stomach wouldn’t growl. He watched as the other man ripped off a large piece and offered it to him. Link blinked in surprise, no one had ever tried to share food with him.

“But that’s, no I couldn’t,” Link stammered out quickly even as his stomach growled angrily at his own refusal of the proffered meal. Sky offered him a warm smile and only continued to hold the bread out to him.

“Don’t be silly! There is more than enough to go around, and after you helped us out in that alley it is the least we can do,” He said and to Link’s surprise the other two nodded before offering him provisions from their own packs. Link could feel his mouth water at the promise of more food and he could feel the tremors from over exertion beginning to ramp up. He forced himself to breathe and shuffled back a little.

“Honestly, I’m fine,” He said stubbornly, still refusing the food that he was offered. He couldn’t trust it, he had learned long ago to never accept gifts from strangers and as much as he wanted to he had to be strong now.

“Please, continue with your questions,” He said pointedly and watched as they slowly put their food away.

“Alright, please let me know if this is rude but I must know, what happened to the land? It looks rather…” Sky trailed off and Link nodded, there it was. He knew it would come up eventually. He could guess by their full cheeks and general healthy appearance that they probably didn’t have to go many days without a meal.

“This land, these people, have been through a lot as you might have guessed. We are still trying to get back on our feet so to speak. Gannon and his followers have not been kind.” Link said slowly and found that he had a hard time lifting his eyes away from his hands that were knitted tightly in his lap. He didn’t want to see the looks on their faces. If what they said was true, and they were heroes from Hyrule at different points in time they must be ashamed of what had been done to this land. He swallowed down the lump in his throat and raised his eyes to meet theirs.

“We are a strong people, we will be okay and the land will heal.” He said firmly, lifting his head in defiance. He was startled at the sudden wave of anger that was washing through him. He could only imagine what they were thinking. Disappointment, disgust maybe even shame for what he had allowed to happen to their home. Well they could think what they will, he loved this land he called home, no matter it’s flaws and scars. There was still beauty to be found here, tucked away in corners and hiding in plain sight, all you had to do was look. Even now Link could see the land healing, growing and thriving despite the harm done to it.

“I have no doubt in your abilities and the strength of these people to grow and thrive. The strength and resolve in your voice is conviction enough and I know you will succeed.” Time said from his place by the fire and was joined by proud smiles and nods from the other two. Link felt a smile creep onto his face, he felt honored in a way. Even if this proved to be some elaborate trap in the making he was willing to accept their compliments.

“I am curious, you say you are heroes from other eras. Tell me how did you get here?” Link asked, crossing his arms over his chest and waited.

“A portal brought us here,” Sky answered and continued quickly, apparently knowing what Link was about to ask next. “And no, we don’t truly know why we are here besides knowing that we needed to find the hero of this time. Though we have noticed one common factor.” He said, glancing at the two men he sat beside.

“That being?” Link prompted, and watched as the three of them shared a brief nod.

“That being a rise in monster activity,” Sky said slowly and Link felt his eyebrow beginning to rise despite himself.

“That’s it? That’s all you have?” He asked incredulously and was graced with shrugs and half hearted ‘yeahs’.

“There has to be more than that,” He said and was once again met with more shrugs.

“Unfortunately that’s all we have,” Twilight said as he rubbed the back of his neck. Link couldn’t help it, he let out a disbelieving snort before he could stop himself.

“And you want me to join? You guys can see how suspicious this sounds right? What makes you think I’m going to join this, whatever this is just because there’s slightly more monsters about?” Link asked and this time was met with a rueful smile spreading across Sky’s face.

“I don’t think you’ll have a choice in that matter. I saw that portal for a week straight and refused to go through it until finally, kind of just… Pulled me in,” Sky said and Link felt himself slump against the wall of the cave suddenly very tired. He pressed his fingers against his temples and squeezed his eyes shut. This whole situation made him want to sleep for the next century, though he couldn’t deny he was the least bit curious to see what new places he would discover. After a moment he let out a sigh and opened his eyes.

“Alright, I guess I’ll need a name. I assume Link won’t cut it considering you all have nicknames,” Link said and judging on the looks he was getting he knew he was right. He watched as Sky leaned back and tilted his head to the side as if he were listening to something. After a second he gave a nod and smiled warmly at him.

“Looks like your name is Hyrule. Welcome to the fold.” Sky said with a chuckle and stretched his hand out for him to shake. He eyed the hand thoughtfully before taking it and felt a tingle of magic flood through the contact. He pulled his hand away quickly and stared at his palm expecting to see a mark left behind on his hand but saw nothing. He wiped the feeling away on his tunic and nodded slowly.

“Now that that is out of the way, I think we need to get something out of the way,” Twilight said and Link offered him a quizzical stare. Twilight dug through his pack and once again offered him some of his food.

“Eat, I know you’re hungry. Don’t try to deny it.” He said sternly and this time Hyrule accepted the offer, though he didn’t take a bite until Twilight gave him a knowing look and took a bite of his own food. The others were quick to pull out their own meals then and they all tucked into their dinner in silence, all of them lost in thought. He chewed the bread and didn’t miss how both Time and Sky were quick to share their own meals with him. This time he accepted the offers gratefully, he didn’t want to admit it to the others but he was starving. They ate in peace for a while and even though he knew he probably wasn’t going to sleep tonight he had to admit it was nice to share a meal with others for once.

#linked universe #hyrule linked universe #the chain meets #twilight linked universe #time linked universe #sky linked universe #linkeduniverse #bad ass hyrule #the sheikah writes #legend of zelda #linked universe fanfic #my fanfic writing

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starshine583 · 4 years

Text

New Girl on the Block (10)

(New update coming in and things are getting heated!!! I wonder how our lovely little group’s gonna handle it??)

Ch.1 / Ch.9 / Ch. 11

Chapter 10: Adrenaline Rush

Possible Schools:

Rosemary High

Skyline Academy

Angelwood Institute

Liberty High

Summerfield Academy

Clearwater Institute

A sigh passed through Adrien’s lips as he crossed out the last name on his list, matching it with the other failed attempts. He just didn’t understand. Why was it so hard to find Marinette’s school? All he needed to do was search for high schools in the area and ask the students at each school whether she attended or not. It seemed simple enough at the time, but now another week and a half has gone by, and he’s no closer to finding her than he was two weeks ago when he asked for her school name as Chat Noir.

Adrien set his pencil down and rubbed a hand over his face. He could have sworn she said ‘Rosemary’ last time they talked, but that blonde guy insisted that there weren’t any new students there. Maybe he just hadn’t met her yet? No, that didn’t make any sense. School had already started by then. Adrien assumed the guy would notice if he suddenly had a new classmate.

Ugh. If only he could visit her again.. Between patrol with his lady, akuma attacks, homework, and photoshoots, going out as Chat Noir to see Marinette was nearly impossible. He really needed to have a talk with Nathalie about getting more free time.

“Alya, Marinette is killing me!”

Adrien glanced up from his paper- That’s right, he’s supposed to be working on his own school right now -just in time to see Lila wiping fake tears from her eyes as she walked into the classroom. Although they still had a good five or ten minutes before class started, she was the only who wasn’t currently seated at her desk, and judging by her greeting, Adrien was going to assume that she entered last on purpose.

“What!” Alya gasped, standing up from her desk to meet Lila halfway. “What did she do now?”

Lila sniffed and accepted the comforting hug that Alya offered. “She’s been sending me awful messages all week! Telling me she hates me and insulting me and that I should’ve just stayed in Italy where I belonged.”

Adrien shifted in his seat to hear the conversation better, a frown tugging at the corner of his lips. Another scheme to slander Marinette’s good name.. Why did Lila still feel the need to lie about her? The ravenette was gone, completely transferred to another school, too far to even breath about Lila’s fabrications. There was no reason to turn their classmates further against her. (if that was even possible at this point)

“She told you what?!” Alya blanched, pulling back to grab Lila’s shoulders. “I can’t believe her! wasn’t sabotaging the forms you needed to be class president enough? Why can’t she leave you alone!”

Adrien resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Now that lie had a reason to it. He knew first hand how thick those stacks of forms can be since he’s helped Marinette carry them a few times, and Lila was obviously too lazy or too unqualified (or both) to sift through all of that mess by herself. What Adrien didn’t understand about the lie, though, was why she had to drag Marinette into it. Again. Why not lie about feeling unwell? Or simply ask for time to adjust to the role that had practically been dumped onto her? Any of those excuses would not only have been easier to say, as they didn’t involve anyone but herself, but they probably would have been accepted just as wholly. So why? It was as though Marinette became a crutch for Lila, which he supposed made sense. Building onto a widely accepted lie would be much simpler than creating a million small lies, but it certainly came with a risk. For example, if Adrien were to, say, kick that crutch right out from under her, she would probably flounder around on the floor with no way to get back up again.

This left Adrien with another important question: How was he going to do it? So far, his friends have been sticking to her like glue and taking in her words like they were given directly from the Bible. On top of that, Alya seems to have become Lila’s official guard dog. How was he supposed to work around that? Adrien couldn’t confront the brunette publicly, because Marinette was proof that that never ended well, and confronting Lila privately didn’t help either, because she would only blow him off again. No, he needed to focus on outing her to his classmates directly, but he also needed to be subtle about it. Which meant..

Which meant he’d have to beat her at her own game.

“That’s crazy!” Adrien piped up, plastering on a surprised and disgusted expression. “Can I see the texts?”

Lila and Alya turned to him, both equally shocked by his comment. He normally kept to himself during conversations about Marinette.

“Oh..” Lila blinked, gathering her thoughts. “I mean, of course! It’s just that.. they’re quite personal, you know.. She said some things that were close to home..”

“We completely understand.” Alya assured.

“Completely,” Adrien agreed, “which is why I want to see how bad it is. Those texts can be considered harassment if you don’t feel safe.”

Alya frowned at him, but a spark arose in Lila’s eyes, one that was no doubt fueled by the thought of getting Marinette into trouble with the law. Adrien would never understand the hatred that Lila harbored for the ravenette, but he definitely knew how to use it to his advantage.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want her to get in trouble!” The brunette said with feigned concern. “But.. if you think it will help..”

She made a show of tentatively pulling out her phone and handing it to Adrien. He wasted no time snatching it from her hands and pulling up the texting app. If she was giving him the phone, she most likely had a series of fake texts to back up her story. (and they would be fake. Marinette was too nice to outwardly insult or bully others. Besides, she wouldn’t have the time even if she wanted to, what with her new school, homework, and fashion designs that she needed to tend to.)

Sure enough, he found messages upon messages of insults under the contact name “Marinette”. Things like “You’re only a model because of Gabriel’s pity and charity programs”, “You made our school’s reputation so pathetic that I had to leave”, and “They’ll find out soon that you’re too stupid to be a decent class rep.” were only the tip of the iceberg. Adrien noted the fact that there weren’t any comments about Lila’s looks specifically- she probably couldn’t think of any insults like that herself, since she was obviously so fashionable -but other than, the texts appeared to be authentic.

That is, except for the phone number.

Adrien slid further into his desk and pulled out his own phone to unlock it. A swift comparison between the two contacts proved not only that they had different phone numbers for Marinette, but that the phone number used for the harassing texts was actually the phone number that Adrien had for Lila. She must have texted herself, then deleted the doubles to make it look like a regular conversation between two people. Adrien had to hand it to her, it was a clever set-up.

But not clever enough.

“Wow, this is awful.” Adrien declared, ensuring that both girls along with a few of their other classmates could hear him. “I’m going to text Marinette about this right now. Do you mind if I copy the number from your phone to text her, though? Some of my contacts got deleted a while back.”

Lila’s eyes widened, and panic briefly flickered across her features.

“O-Oh, um- you really don’t have to do that-” She tried to say as she reached for her phone.

Adrien pulled it back up with a smile. “Oh, but I want to! We can’t let Marinette get away with things like this.”

“Yeah, he’s right!” Alya eagerly agreed. “Let him talk to her. That should really pack a punch for Marinette.”

Although the comment was a bit odd, Adrien nodded along, because as long as Alya was on his side, this plan should work perfectly.

“I’m typing in the number to call right now.” He announced, quickly punching in each digit. His only regret in that moment was that he couldn’t see Lila’s expression as he got closer to ‘accidentally’ outing her. However, the sheer panic in her voice was still enough to make his smile widen to a grin.

“No, you can’t!” She nearly shrieked, lunging over Adrien for her phone. If the class’ eyes weren’t on them before, they definitely were now.

“Don’t worry, Lila.” Adrien said innocently as he pressed ‘call’ on the number. “I won’t tell her that you gave me her number.”

As expected, Lila’s phone immediately began to ring. He watched as the blood drained from her features, and she scrambled to turn off the device before it could finish the first ring. It was a decent move, in his opinion, but that didn’t stop the class from staring at her with a mix of surprise, suspicion, and curiosity.

“What was that?” Alya asked, leaning forward to help Lila get off of Adrien, “Was your phone ringing?”

“No, no! It was- uhm -” Lila let out a nervous, little laugh. It’d been so long since she had to fight for her lies to stick that she must have forgotten how to lie on the spot. What a shame.

“That was just a small sound my phone makes when it turns off.” She blurted out. “I must have forgotten to charge it last night.”

Adrien pressed “end” on his call- because obviously he wasn’t going to get anywhere with Lila’s phone off -and glanced around the classroom to gauge their reactions. Those closest to the conversation were warily watching the scene unfold with furrowed eyebrows, doubt clear on their expressions. The farther ones, however, nodded along with what Lila was saying. They probably hadn’t heard most of the conversation beforehand and therefore had no reason to question her.

“Oh,” Alya said, accepting the bullcrap answer as always, “that’s not good. Do you want to use my charger in case you need your phone later?”

Lila offered a sweet smile, stray bits of her confidence floating back to her due to Alya’s reassurance. “Ah, I’m fine. I wouldn’t want to trouble you or anythi-”

A soft rumbling shook the ground, causing the Italian girl to trail off. Adrien turned to the window, his breath catching in his throat as his thumb instinctively brushed over his ring. Was now really the best time?

In the distance, a cloud of dust was rising into the air. He’d seen enough- and done enough -to know that only the mass destruction of buildings could create such a cloud, and the mayor hadn’t informed them of any pre-planned constructions.

“Yes!” Alya cheered, leaping down the classroom steps. Leave it to her to be the only one excited about another akuma attack. “Finally! It feels like we haven’t had an akuma in weeks!”

“Alya, wait!” Nino called after her. He always hated her little escapades.

“Don’t worry,” Adrien said as he stood up, “I’ll take care of her.”

Right after I take care of the akuma.

~~~~~~~~

The little hands of Felix’s black wrist watch ticked away well past 12:30, reminding him of his frustrating failure to set a timer for their lunch period. How could he have forgotten? The notion had to be ingrained into his muscle memory by now. Get up, go to school, burn through the first few classes, set a timer to not waste time, and go to lunch. How did it slip his mind?

“I can’t believe I didn’t ask this sooner,” Allegra remarked as they exited the café, “but what happened to your guys’ faces? I’m pretty sure they weren’t that red before.”

Felix glanced towards Claude and Marinette, the excuse to his forgetfulness finally returning. He’d been in the middle of setting the alarm when he saw their tomato-colored faces in front of the Chemistry lab. The sight must have been enough to throw away all thoughts of setting his alarm as he asked what happened. Nevertheless, Felix still had time to copy down some notes before his next class, and that would suit him just fine for today.

“Oh, man, how have I not told you yet?” Claude snorted. “It was hilarious!”

Marinette let out a light, yet playful scoff next to him. “Define ‘hilarious’.”

The group shared a small chuckle, and Claude jumped into the story of how they- well, how he spilled their chemicals in class. It surely couldn’t have been as interesting as the brunette let on, but Claude always loved to be dramatic. He made voices for Marinette’s comments- which she jokingly took offence towards due to the unrealistically high pitch -and flailed his arms about while explaining how he poured the chemicals into a bag and mixed them. Claude even made a point to throw out his arms while mimicking the sound of an explosion when he got to the part of the story where the chemicals overflowed.

One of those arms happened to smack Felix in the shoulder, which easily brought a glare out of the blonde. If Claude was this energetic now, there was no telling how bad he was going to be during Allegra’s sleepover. In fact, the whole group was probably going to go overboard. Something about sleepovers tended to bring out the most outgoing side of a person, which was why Felix loathed them. He had to sit there and listen to everyone snort and laugh and be loud the entire evening without the comfort that he might be able to leave within an hour or two. It was torture, simply put.

And yet, he decided to go. All for the ludicrous thought that he might be able to ask Marinette more questions about her relations to Agreste and her old school once- or if -the night provided them a moment of privacy. The motivation itself was outright foolish if he were honest with himself. Even if he did acquire a “decent moment” to bring up the subject, she would most likely be uncomfortable talking about it, and dragging a person through the past that they’re deliberately trying to run from isn’t pleasant for anyone involved. That’s why he’s refrained from asking about it again so far.

Felix needed to find some other way to sedate his curiosity towards her. He did.. But how else was he going to find out why an aspiring fashion designer would run from the supposed affections of a top designer’s son? Felix guessed that it might be something like sexual harassment or another, equally disgusting treachery, but then what about the chest of gifts? Where her affections for the model had been clear? What type of fallout must one have with another person to risk their entire dream career just to escape them?

Felix shook his head slightly to push the thoughts out of his mind. He wasn’t going to barrage Marinette with question after question just to stop his mind from constantly turning when it probably wouldn’t stop anyway. Marinette was Marinette. A classmate of his that was kind, clumsy yet capable, overly-generous, determined, weirdly strong for someone of her stature, and a mystery in more ways than one when it came to the life she lived. That was going to have to be enough for him.

“You should have seen it, Allegra.” Claude said with a grin, pulling Felix back to the present. He’d somewhat forgotten that the brunette was even talking.

“It was like the whole bag of Phenol Red just went-”

A large crash erupted to the left of them, followed by a strong gust of wind that pushed them all off of their feet. Felix hit the pavement with a grunt, and Marinette landed on top of him a second later, sucking the rest of the air from his lungs. Screams pierced the air, disorienting him further- why were they screaming? What made the crash? How did it create enough wind to knock them over? -but Marinette sat up immediately. She turned to the source of the crash, tense and ready, as though she already knew what they were dealing with, and Felix couldn’t be more confused. Why did she look like she was about to fight something? (And why did he feel like she would win?)

“Do not be afraid!” A voice yelled over the crowds, drawing Felix’s gaze to a woman standing a few yards away from them. She was dressed in dark and light blues, save for her white elbow-length cloak and her white skirt that appeared to be split into several different pieces of cloth. “I’ve come to help! Not just you, but the world!”

Felix’s eyes widened, an entirely new form of terror taking hold of his body. This wasn’t.. This couldn’t be an akuma, right? She looked different than the ones he’d seen on the news, more human. If it weren’t for her white and dark blue mask and the large fan in her hands that seemed to be controlling the wind, he would have thought that she was a normal civilian merely passing by.

“Our planets have been spoiled by the bigger companies for too long!” The woman continued, even though people ran as she spoke. “It’s time we take matters into our own hands!”

His mind screamed at him to run, to hide, to move, but he couldn’t. His entire being was cemented to the spot in fear of what might happen next. What if this akuma was dangerous? What if her powers possessed people like that Pharaoh themed villain? Or completely killed them like Stoneheart or TimeTagger? Were they going to be her first victims? What if it-

A harsh tug interrupted his reeling thoughts, and suddenly, Felix was back on his feet and running. Running behind Marinette who was pulling them to safety.

“Hurry up, we don’t have much time!” She quietly called over her shoulder. “Let’s hide behind the wooden fence while she’s distracted.”

Felix had enough sense to look ahead of them, where a small, wooden fence that held the cafe’s menu was placed. It wasn’t hard to notice under normal circumstances, but how did Marinette think of hiding there while the akuma was right behind them? How was she not paralyzed by the very idea of being caught?

“I’m going to destroy some stores around here, but only to get the heroes’ attention!” The akuma explained as the group scrambled passed the fence and pressed their backs against the wood. “Once I have the miraculous, I will restore everything to its rightful place, I promise!”

Felix tried to slow his rapid, shallow breaths as he sank further against the fence. She was going to destroy buildings? How many? Were they going to get hit with the debris? Where were the heroes that he’d heard so much about? Shouldn’t they be doing something about all of this?

“What do we do?” Claude whispered, panic clear in his tone as well. None of them had ever seen an akuma attack before. Well, none of them except Allan, but he’d been watching through a store window a safe distance away.

“Should we call the police?” Allegra nearly squeaked, tentatively reaching for her bag to pull out her phone. “They help with stuff like this too, right?”

“No need.” Marinette said. She was on the left side of Felix now, staying close to the edge of the fence and carefully peeking around it. “The police have akuma alerts on their phones to tell them when attacks happen. They're already on their way, I’m sure.”

Felix stared down at her with furrowed eyebrows, completely baffled by the lack of panic in her demeanor. This was the same girl who stumbled and stuttered to ask him for a pencil during class! Yet here she was, taking charge and giving orders and speaking perfectly. It was like she was a completely different person! How was that even possible?

“Alright,” The ravenette spoke, turning back to them with a deathly serious gaze, “I’m going to run out and get her attention. While I’m doing that, you guys need to run as far away from here as you can and find a good basement to hide in until this is over.”

“What?” The group practically gasped in unison. She wanted to face the akuma alone?!

“Marinette, you’re not going anywhere!” Allegra insisted. “It’s not safe out there!”

“It’s less safe if we stay here.” She replied, moving to step out into the open.

Felix grabbed her wrist to yank her back. What was happening right now?

“Are you insane?” He hissed unintentionally. “You can’t go out there! You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Yeah, she’s not after us.” Allan agreed. “Only the buildings. Let’s just all run out of here together.”

Marinette glanced back at the group. “But there are still people in those buildings. I need to lure her to an empty street or at least stall until the heroes get here. If I don’t, people are definitely going to get hurt or worse.”

Felix’s grip on Marinette’s wrist tightened. He hadn’t thought about the crowds of people who were running inside for cover, but even so, what would she be able to do alone? The akuma was a powerful being, and they were merely civilians in the crossfire. What’s stopping it from crushing Marinette beneath its boot at the slightest whim? Who’s to say the akuma would even listen to Marinette if she did get its attention?

“We’re not letting you sacrifice yourself for an extra second of time.” He told her. “Like you said, the police are on their way, which means the heroes will be here soon too. Let them handle it.”

A strange mix of urgency and frustration flickered across her features, and she tugged against his grip. “Felix, please, we don’t have time to argue-”

“I think I’ll start with this darling café.” The akuma crooned. “That should get some attention.”

The café walls crumbling apart was Felix’s only warning before the gust of wind made it to their little hide-out. It splintered the wood within seconds, and the group went flying, once again, into the pavement.

Felix groaned as he pushed himself to his knees. How many times were they going to get thrown around? At least Marinette didn’t land on him this time.

Marinette.

The realization that Marinette was no longer with him washed over Felix like a bucket of ice cold water, and his gaze snapped upwards. He started to yell for her, but it was too late. Marinette was already on her feet, somehow recovering faster than all of them, and running towards the akuma head on. He could only watch in abject horror as she called out to it.

“Hey, airhead!” She yelled. “Do you really think this is the smartest plan?”

The akuma rounded on Marinette in an instant, and Felix sucked in a breath. No, no, no, no, what was she doing?

“My name is ‘Whirlwind’, thank you very much,” The woman snapped, “and I think it’s a brilliant plan. Do you think you can do something better?”

“Of course.” Marinette replied, crossing her arms. “If you’re already destroying buildings, why not go and destroy the big companies that you’re after in the first place? It’d be much more productive, don’t you think?”

Felix furrowed his eyebrows. Didn’t she say that she wanted to avoid public places?

Whirlwind hummed. “Well, yes, but with all of the major hotels and tourist spots, it’s hard to tell which buildings to destroy, and I don’t have time to look.”

“I’ll show you where they are.” Marinette offered. “Think about it, destroying a big, company building is sure to attract more attention than taking down a little café, right?”

Whirlwind narrowed her eyes as she thought it over, and a part of Felix desperately hoped that she would decline Marinette’s suggestion. A bigger part of him prayed that the police or the heroes or somebody showed up to stop this before Marinette went too far.

“Alright.” Whirlwind smiled. “I’ll take you up on that. It’s nice to see someone else interested in saving the environment.”

With a flick of her fan, Whirlwind gathered a gust of wind around Marinette, causing the ravenette to rise into the air. She then gave herself a gust of wind, which caused her white skirt to start spinning around her. If Felix wasn’t going pale with dread over what might happen to his classmate, he would have found the unique fashion choice to be humorous, as it almost reminded him of a box fan.

Allegra let out a horrified shriek, one that rattled Felix to his bones. This was really happening. Marinette was really being carried off by some maniac in a costume. What were they going to do? What could they do? Gosh, where were the heroes?

Felix grit his teeth and forced himself to his feet. He couldn’t just stand there and watch her be kidnapped or he’d never be able to look her in the eyes afterwards.

That’s right, he told himself. The heroes were going to win, and she was going to be just fine.

Those thoughts didn’t stop him from sprinting after the akuma, though, even as the trio called after him to stop, even as the akuma rose higher into the air, out of his reach. Marinette couldn’t do this by herself, and although Felix’s presence probably wouldn’t make much of a difference either, he’d be darned if he didn’t try to help.

“Don’t worry,” He huffed, comforting himself more than her as he darted through alleyways to keep up with them, “I’m right behind you.”

Tag list: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx

#felinette #Rosemary AU #Quantic Kids #Marinette #Felix Culpa #New Girl on the Block

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hrina · 4 years

Text

In The Ring, Pt. IV - Uppercut

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: M WORD COUNT: 10.6k REQUESTED: yes!

well lads................this is it 🥺🥺🥺 thank u guys so much for all the love you’ve given this series. i would’ve never expected to receive such a positive response, but u guys rly went above and beyond. i adore u all so much

warning: parts of this fic will contain mentions of blood, violence, mild stalking, and sexual content. if any of that makes you uncomfortable, please take care of yourself and keep scrolling <3

as always, my masterlist and my inbox are both linked in my bio! i worked really hard on this last part! i wanted to make sure it was all perfect, so i hope everyone enjoys it. gentle reminder to reblog the fics you like! it’s a great way to show appreciation as well as give authors more exposure. ok that’s all hehe can’t wait to hear your thoughts! take care 💙💙💙

PART I: Jab

PART II: Cross

PART III: Hook

~*~

March 20, 2021

Harry keeps his promise, and Artie brings your car back around to your place the next day. You sit up straight at the table when you hear the familiar honking of a horn sound from outside. Your feet suddenly seem to have a mind of their own, carrying you out of the kitchen quickly with your father’s confused inquiries ringing in your ears. You open the front door before Artie even has the chance to knock.

“Thanks, Jason,” you tell him, breathless.

He hands you your keys and accepts the quick hug that you bestow upon him. “No problem, little girl. Is everything alright?”

Harry didn’t tell him.

“Yeah,” you lie, nodding. “I just—I had a bit too much to drink last night, that’s all.” Your voice drops an octave. “Don’t tell my dad, okay?”

Artie presses two of his fingertips together and drags them over the seam of his mouth, metaphorically sealing his lips. You smile, your heartbeat returning to its regular pace beneath the confines of your ribs.

You step back, extending an arm and gesturing for him to enter.

“Are you hungry? We were in the middle of eating lunch.”

“Sure,” he says, kicking off his shoes and arranging them against the wall. “Thank you.”

He and your father talk about anything and everything during the meal—boxing, the economy, the basketball game that had aired late last night. You just sit there and eat your food, not wanting to attract any unnecessary attention.

They include you in the conversation for a bit—Artie asks how classes are going, and you tell him that you’re waiting for medical school acceptance (or rejection) letters to start rolling in. Other than that, they don’t bat an eye when you rinse your plate in the sink and politely excuse yourself from the table. You hide behind the fact that you have to work on an assignment that’s due in a week—the paper is worth a third of your grade and it’s crucial that you ace it.

But once you hobble back into your room, you’re crawling into bed and pulling the covers up over your head. You reach around blindly for your phone, snatching it up from where it’s charging on your nightstand. You unlock the device, scrolling through all of the grey messages that pop up right away—sent last night, one after the other, each of them unanswered, growing more and more desperate as the hours pass.

Can we please talk about this?

I’m sorry, please let me explain.

Are you ignoring me?

I know you’re seeing these. Please respond.

And then a final one, dejected and crestfallen, laced with palpable weakness even through the pixels of your screen.

Goodnight.

April 6, 2021

Harry’s on a losing streak.

A five-match losing streak, to be precise.

He’s never been bested this many times in a row. Your father is baffled by it, unsure of why he’s been so distracted in the ring. It’s even more confusing, he thinks, considering the fact that he’s at the gym every single day, lifting weights, practicing his technique, throwing himself into the sport. But once the actual fights roll around, things change. You’re not there, and you’re his lucky charm, and because of that, he finds himself meeting the ground far more often than he’d like to admit.

Your father said that the end of the semester was approaching—as a consequence, you were buckling down with school. Harry supposes that the timing is right, so the pretext must be true. But his opponents don’t know that (nor would they care). Your absence doesn’t stop them from knocking him down with snarling faces and heavy fists. The crowds holler loudly, goading him to get back up, but Harry doesn’t. He refuses to give them the satisfaction of watching him get beaten to a bloody pulp.

He stopped trying to reach out to you a week after the night of the kiss. He composed several texts a day, but each message had been met with silence. He remembers staring down at his phone one time, watching as three grey dots wiggled on the screen for a minute or two before disappearing entirely.

That’s when he gave up. If you didn’t want to talk, fine.

It hurt like hell, though.

And it’s still hurting like hell, even a week and a half later.

You told your father about James. He had mentioned it in passing to Harry, having to end practice earlier than usual because he had to set a court date to deal with some bastard who wouldn’t leave you alone. And that’s comforting, Harry thinks, because at least he knows that you’ll be safe, now.

He just wishes that he could’ve been the one to bring you that bit of solace.

That’s why, when your father invites him over for dinner one night after a particularly strenuous evening of training, he jumps at the opportunity. You’re making lasagna, your father says, having taken a break from studying for exams. Harry agrees to come over, because it’s been a while since he’s had a real, curated, love-infused, home-cooked meal.

And because you’ll be there, too, obviously. But he refrains from letting that incentive slip loose.

His heart is racing nervously when he parks his truck in front of your house. Memories flood his brain, reminding him of what had happened the last time he’d been here—the glint of your necklace under his fingers, the alluring twinkle in your eyes. The softness of your lips against his, the sensation of your nails carding through his hair—

Your father taps on the window of the driver’s seat.

“H?” he says, muffled through the glass. “You coming?”

“Yeah,” Harry chokes out, unbuckling his seatbelt and sliding out of the vehicle. “Yeah, sorry.”

He follows your father up the porch steps, waiting anxiously as the other man unlocks the front door. It swings open; they both step inside. Harry’s eyes widen when your father calls out, “Gioia? I’m home!”

“Hi!” comes your reply.

He freezes when the sound reaches his ears, because he hasn’t heard your voice—much less seen you—in over two weeks. He shuts the door discreetly, removing his shoes and trailing after your father as he pads down the hall. The closer he draws to the kitchen, the more he can smell it—meat, spices, cheese. His stomach rumbles in anticipation.

“Hope you made enough for three,” your father says, entering the room.

Harry lingers behind you, leaning against the wide threshold with his arms crossed protectively over his chest. He’s still a bit sweaty, but he hopes that the lasagna in the oven will mask the musky scent of the perspiration gleaming on his skin.

“Three?” you ask. You’re standing at the sink, your back to them. “Hi, Jason.”

A beat of silence passes, and then—

“Er, not exactly,” Harry grunts.

You stiffen immediately before spinning around. He doesn’t miss the quiet little gasp that leaves your mouth.

Your gaze locks with his, lips parted in surprise, and he can’t help but wonder if coming here was the smartest or the most foolish decision he’s ever made.

~*~

He and your father set the table.

After a few minutes, three plates and three collections of cutlery are laid out over a pristine white cloth. Harry eases into his chair as you carry over a hot tray of lasagna, your hands sheathed in a pair of red oven mittens. You put the pasta down in front of your father, who is sat at the head of the table. He inhales deeply, a small smile forming on his face.

“Smells amazing, sweetheart,” he tells you, nodding in approval. “Even better than your mother’s.”

“That’s a lie,” you tease, chuckling quietly and removing the crimson gloves from your fingers. You cut a large piece from the platter and deposit it onto his dish. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he says.

He waits patiently as you separate another chunk of pasta for Harry, setting it down on his plate without a word.

“Thank you,” Harry tells you, his voice hoarse.

“You’re welcome,” you say. The response is short, painfully clipped—it makes him wince.

As soon as everyone has food in front of them, you sit down in your chair, reaching for the fork and the knife resting a few inches away from your dish. Before you can dig in, however, you pause, lifting your chin and squeezing your eyes shut.

“Shit,” you murmur. “Forgot the drinks.”

“There’s juice in the fridge, I think,” your father says through a mouthful of pasta.

“No.” You wave his suggestion away. “How about some wine? I’ll grab a bottle from the cellar.”

“Alright.” He nods, but then speaks again as you stand. “Wait—I think the treadmill in the basement is blocking the door. Harry—,” Harry’s head snaps up, nostrils flaring at the mention of his name, “—would you mind going with her? She won’t be able to move it by herself.”

“Uh,” he says stupidly. “Yeah, sure.”

He quickly excuses himself from the table, glancing over at you to register your reaction. Your expression is stony, betraying nothing. You swallow heavily, looking away and marching quickly out of the kitchen. He follows you without another word, hot on your heels.

The basement is dimly-lit, stocked with a few shelves of non-perishable foods and household supplies. Harry remains silent as you make your way over to the far wall, approaching the dark grey treadmill pressed against the door of the cellar. You place both hands on the side of the machine, giving it a firm push and grunting when it budges only an inch.

“You going to help me, or what?” you ask, casting an expectant glance at Harry from over your arm.

He blinks. “Right.”

Together, the two of you manage to ease the treadmill a few feet to the left. It’s enough space for you to open the door of the wine cellar and slip inside. Darkness envelopes your bodies, dissolving only when a small click! echoes through the still air. A moment later, the alcove is illuminated in a dull glow, compliments of the scrawny yellow bulb hanging from the ceiling.

You release the thin string attached to the light, turning around and gasping when you find Harry perched directly behind you. Your chests brush together—the contact sends sparks whizzing down his spine. You spin back around quickly, clearing your throat and scanning all of the different bottles balanced on the shelves.

“Thanks for your help,” you say dryly. “You can go back upstairs, now.”

“I’m good,” Harry mutters.

He clasps his hands behind his back as you trail your index finger along dozens of cream-coloured labels. Your hair is gathered in a low ponytail; a few shorter, wispier strands peek out from behind your ears. You’re not wearing makeup, today—and why would you, Harry thinks, when you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen?

“So,” he starts, itching to break the silence, “your dad told me that you’re filing a restraining order against James.”

“Yeah,” you reply curtly. He waits for you to continue, but you say nothing else.

“Feel better now that you’ve come clean?” he questions. Immediately, he knows that it’s the wrong thing to ask. But it’s out there, now, and he can’t exactly take it back.

A hollow laugh tumbles off of your tongue. Behind you, Harry notices the way you shake your head in disdain.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say under your breath.

“What was that?” He cocks an eyebrow challengingly, frowning at your tone.

“I said that you’re ridiculous,” you gripe, whipping around and fixing him with a fiery glare. “Need me to repeat it again?”

“If that means you’ll finally be speaking to me, then yeah, go for it,” he snaps, folding his arms over his chest.

“I—,” you break off, surprised by the bite in his rebuttal. Harry clenches his jaw when you turn back around. Your hand quivers as you reach for a random bottle of red wine. “I’m not doing this with you right now.”

“When, then?” he demands, taking a step closer. His front skims along your shoulder blades, and when you face him once more, your eyes widen in shock at the close proximity of your bodies. The little room suddenly feels much smaller, walls looming forward and closing you in. Your chest swells as you suck in a deep breath.

“When are we finally going to fucking talk about this?” Harry presses, meeting your gaze. Desperation drips from every syllable of his query.

You purse your lips, exhaling raggedly.

“Soon.”

A feeble assent.

An insipid shake of your head.

You angle your torso to the side, easily slipping past him and out of the cellar.

“But not today.”

April 10, 2021

Your nose is buried in a textbook when the message comes through.

Cell biology. So much information to remember, so many reactions to list, so many molecules to name. And weeks of studying, just for a two-hour-long final that’ll take place three days from now. If you weren’t so stressed out, the sheer nonsensicality of the situation would have made you laugh.

So when your phone chimes with the alert, you figure that it’s time for a break. A quick conversation with one of your friends, maybe. Something to take your mind off of the looming exam, even if it is just for a few minutes at a time. After that, you’ll get back to revising.

Sadly, nothing is ever that simple.

We need to talk. Come to the gym.

Your eyes widen when the words sink in. As you rub your clammy palms against the grey material of your sweatpants, another text pops up below the first.

Please.

You shouldn’t. You need to study. But even as you warn yourself against it, your brain is already coming up with a multitude of reasons to meet with him. It’s just one night. Your exam isn’t for another few days. You have time. You deserve to take a break.

Your keys jingle cheerfully as you toss them into your bag.

~*~

Harry is going to town when you walk into the gym.

You’re not quite sure how that poor punching bag has managed to stay balanced on its hook. Harry’s coming at it from every angle, pummeling the leather with hard, heavy fists. He’s wearing a black tank top today; deep armholes cut into the sides of the fabric and expose most of his torso. The dark tattoos on his skin glisten under a thin sheen of sweat; a small, stupid part of you expects the ink to run and smudge before you remember that the designs are permanent.

What’s even worse? Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande is playing on his phone. The soft, feathery croons of her voice mix with the low grunts that escape Harry’s throat—sounds that claw their way out of him with each blow delivered to the bag. Under normal circumstances, the juxtaposition would have made you snort.

Now though, it just reminds you of that night all those months ago, when you’d asked him to teach you how to box. This entire train wreck could have been avoided if you’d simply kept your mouth shut.

Harry still hasn’t noticed you. How could he, when you’re standing behind him?

You clear your throat. He freezes mid-strike.

His grassy eyes are wide when he turns around.

“Hi,” he says, surprised. “I—I didn’t think you would come.”

“I was halfway here when I realised that I didn’t text you back,” you reply, scratching awkwardly at the nape of your neck. “But, like…no handheld devices behind the wheel, and all that jazz.”

His lips twitch. “Yeah. Good.”

You cross your arms over your chest, scanning your surroundings. You don’t know why you do that—nothing in the gym has changed. You’re just trying to avoid Harry’s gaze, which is a lot easier said than done.

“You, um…you wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He nods, walking over to the ring and pausing the music streaming from his phone.

He then reaches for two pairs of boxing gloves, nestling one in the crook of his elbow and tossing the other at you. The strap of your purse slides from your shoulder as you catch the leather in your arms. You peer down at the gloves, eyes narrowing in confusion before you train them back on him.

“I don’t get it,” you deadpan.

“Really?” Harry asks. He hoists himself onto the raised platform of the ring and slips through the gaps in the ropes. “Because you’ve been begging to go up against me since January. Are you seriously gonna back out now?”

“Go up against—” The rest of your sentence fizzles out. “I…I thought you wanted to have a conversation, not a competition.”

He shrugs, regarding you evenly as he pulls his gloves on and tightens the straps around his wrists. He then bumps his enclosed fists together, tilting his head to the side.

“Why can’t we do both?”

~*~

You look pretty, Harry thinks.

Standing on the far side of the ring, wearing a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and bright pink sneakers—yeah, you look pretty. You’ve cuffed your bottoms so that they’re rolled up to the spot just below your knees, and your hair has been pulled back into a low bun. There’s no emotion on your face as you stare him down, taking a few steps closer and assuming a fighting stance.

You’ve gotten better—he’ll be the first to admit it. But he’s going to beat you, and you both know it. It’s just a matter of when.

He decides that, for the time being, he’ll go easy on you. The two of you will talk things out, and afterward, he might let you win. Maybe. He’s still on the fence about that.

You both begin to move in a circle. After a long moment of silence, Harry says, “You go first.”

“No, you,” you grit out. He just shrugs.

Fine. Have it your way.

You block the straight, pointed jab that he throws, and pride swells up in his chest. It’s a simple punch to deflect, but nevertheless, it tells him that you’ve learned something over these past few months. And that means that he’s done a good job as your teacher.

As your friend…not so much.

Do friends kiss other friends the same way you’d kissed him in front of your house?

He really doesn’t know.

“Right, then,” Harry starts, nodding. “Let’s talk.”

“About what?” you ask. Your nose wrinkles in concentration as you direct a blow toward his stomach. He blocks it easily. “About how you kissed me back and then told me you didn’t have feelings for me?”

“I—,” he’s stunned, because okay, you’re coming right on out with it. “I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry for lying, but you don’t seem to realise that.

“I was so fucking embarrassed,” you say, lunging forward and throwing a cross at his nose. He bats your fist away like it’s nothing more than a pesky fly. “But I guess that I’m mad at myself, too. Here I am, starting to like you, meanwhile I barely know anything about you.”

“What do you want to know?” he asks, keeping his arms in front of his face.

(Deep down, beneath his stoic exterior, he can’t believe what he’s hearing. You had been ‘starting to like’ him? He’s scared, then, because that means he ruined everything that night in his truck. Do you still feel the same way?)

Harry blinks—shakes his head free of those thoughts and continues. “Ask me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Really,” you reply, though it isn’t exactly a question.

You drop your hands, taken aback by his offer. He’s not usually this open—you should seize the opportunity to probe while it’s still available. You will, he thinks. Over these past few months, he’s learned how you operate. You’re not predictable, by any means, but he knows that you can’t resist inquiring about his personal life when given the chance.

You want to know him. If he thinks about it for too long, his affections become exceedingly difficult to bear.

“Really,” he says.

He steps forward and curves his right arm in a powerful hook. You yelp jarringly when the rough leather of his glove makes contact with your left shoulder. He just shrugs, pulling back.

“Remember: don’t let your guard down.”

You clench your jaw and raise your fists once more.

“Fine, then,” you say, sidestepping another one of his jabs. “Where were you born?”

“Redditch, England,” he answers simply. “Moved to Holmes Chapel when I was a kid, though.”

You nod. The two of you continue to circle each other.

“Got any siblings?” you ask, charging him and attempting to deliver a series of punches to his torso. He deflects each of them with his forearms, never faltering.

“A sister,” he says, unbothered. “She lives back home.”

“And what about your parents?” you press, retreating and watching him with careful eyes.

He swallows roughly, shaking his head. “Dad left when I was seven. Mum died when I was fourteen.”

At that, you pause. You heed his earlier advice and keep your hands in front of your face, but it’s clear that his confession has caught you by surprise. Your gaze softens, and he watches as your lips curl down into a sympathetic frown.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him quietly, your shoulders slouching. “That’s terrible.”

He shrugs. “It’s in the past—can’t change it, now.”

He takes advantage of your pitying nature, springing toward you and aiming a punch for your hip. You barely manage to avoid the blow, jumping back at the last second. His glove scrapes swiftly against your side. The attack seems to snap you out of your emotions, because you scowl deeply and return to your original stance.

“What happened after that?” you ask, breathing erratically.

“They put me in foster care,” Harry says, shaking his head. “It was shit, though. I ran away after a couple of years. Went off on my own—that’s when I met your dad.”

“And he started training you?”

“And he started training me,” he confirms with a curt nod. “Couldn’t actually fight until I turned eighteen, but after that…I was taking up as many matches as I could.” He chuckles warmly at the memory. “Your dad said that he’d never seen anything like it. Told me I had to slow down.”

You smile a bit at his words. Your fondness quickly melts into shock, however, when Harry aims a hit for your face. You block the punch, retaliating quickly and throwing one of your own. Your fist makes contact with the barrier of his chest, and he stumbles backward, his eyes widening in disbelief. You got him.

Only once, but still.

You got him.

“Not bad,” he grunts, squaring his shoulders. “Maybe I should actually start trying, now.”

You grit your teeth, glowering at him. “God, you’re such a dick.”

He flashes you a contemptuous grin before lunging forward. You dodge two of his punches, but the third one catches you right in the stomach, making you double over and cough. Harry retreats, a mischievous smirk on his face.

“Done getting to know me?” he simpers.

You shake your head, straightening back up. “Not yet.”

You make a valiant effort, Harry thinks. Your dedication is commendable. But he’s had a decade of training, whereas you’ve only had a few months. Your technique—though improved—is still sloppy. And that’s what allows him to sidestep all of your strikes and react quickly, enough so that he’s got you pinned to the ground in just under two minutes.

You’re panting heavily; one of his forearms holds your crossed wrists down over your head. His other hand is planted on the floor just above your shoulder, the flat front of his boxing glove providing a stable surface to keep him balanced. His knees are next to your waist as he hovers over your stomach, giving you no room to worm out of his grip. You flail your legs in frustration, but he’s perched too high up on your body for the action to do any real damage.

“I win,” he says simply, arrogance dancing in his eyes. He leans down so that your noses are only inches apart. “Any more questions, baby?”

“Just one,” you bite, panting heavily.

He cocks an eyebrow, waiting for the inquiry to leave your lips. Once it does, however, it knocks every molecule of air from his lungs.

“Have you…,” you inhale deeply, “…ever been in love?”

The expression on your face tells him that you know exactly what you’re doing. Your chest heaves with exertion, and when his gaze flickers down to your breasts for only a fraction of a second, your eyes illumine with realisation.

“You want me,” you tell him, breathless. A thin, reflective layer of perspiration has gathered at your hairline. Your arms twitch from where they’re pinned beneath his. Despite the gloves still covering your hands, you grasp at his slippery skin, hoping that the contact will somehow make his already-weak resolve crack and crumble into nothing.

“No,” he says, his voice hard.

His green irises burn into your face. Who is he trying to convince?

“You’re lying,” you wheeze, shaking your head. “You want me.”

Your skin is hot. He can feel you radiating warmth like a fireplace. Heated, cozy, welcoming—it’s everything he loves about you, everything he’s been craving since he first became conscious of how badly he desired you. And, to top it all off, you’re looking at him like that—with eyes that could persuade him to jump from a skyscraper, if you so much as asked.

Just like that.

“Fuck,” Harry spits. He pulls back sharply and stamps his own eyes shut. His nose screws up in frustration. “Fuck.”

And then he’s kissing you.

The elated moan that slips from your lips has his cock twitching fitfully in his shorts. You arch your back to get closer to him, because with his hand still pinning you down, it’s not like you can throw your arms around his neck and bring him to you. The kiss is messy and frenzied and hot and carnal. Harry licks into your mouth, savouring the squeak that echoes in your throat.

You’re vocal—he’s going to fucking die.

When the two of you pull back, no words are exchanged. Harry stares down at you, taking note of how your pupils have dilated immensely. Your chest is still heaving, but this time, it’s for a completely different reason. He releases your wrists from where they’re pinned beneath his forearm, watching you carefully as he sits up.

He lifts his fist to his face and takes the strap of the glove between his teeth. The sharp riiip! that ensues may as well be a starter gunshot.

You both dive back into a sea of teeth and lips and tongue. Harry throws off his gloves easily. You struggle with yours, but he wastes no time, helping you discard them in a matter of seconds. With your hands finally free, you bury them in his hair, pulling at the soft, damp tendrils as he presses several hard kisses to your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mutters, slanting his body downward so that his crotch is level with yours. “You—you have no idea—”

The rest of his sentence fades into a groan when you suck harshly on his jaw. He shudders at the sensation.

Gradually, you bring your legs out from beneath his own, lifting your knees up to your chest and then wrapping your thighs around his waist. It’s an impressive feat, if he’s being honest. And it gives him more room to lean over you, to grind his cock against your centre through the layers of fabric separating your skin.

“Off—,” you choke, tugging at the bottom of his black shirt. “Get this off!”

He complies, sitting back up on his knees and ridding himself of the fabric. You take advantage of his instability, wrapping one hand around his bicep and giving it a hard shove. He topples to the side and you scramble up to straddle him, a small, smug smile ghosting across your face.

“What are you—?” he starts, but you place one finger against his lips, cutting him off.

You start to roll your hips gently into his—he groans, wishing more than anything that there were no clothes in the way. Goosebumps erupt on his arms when you lightly scrape your nails down his bare chest. You settle at the butterfly inked into his abdomen, tracing the insect’s wings with a wondrous look in your eyes. His palms sweep up your thighs.

“Why did you lie to me?” you murmur, keeping your gaze trained on his torso. “You feel the same, don’t you?”

He nods wordlessly.

“Why, then?” you press, frowning gently. “I—we could’ve avoided this whole thing if you’d just told me the truth.”

“Your dad,” Harry says weakly. “I can’t—you’re his—”

“My dad has no control over who I date or who I fuck,” you say. He’s stunned by the crudeness of your claim. “And if I want to fuck you right here, right now, then that’s what I’m going to do.”

“You—Christ,” he swallows heavily, squeezing his eyes shut. “You can’t just say shit like that.”

“Why not?” you smirk, grinding against him harshly and feeling the stiff outline of his cock in his shorts. “You seem to be enjoying it.”

“Fuck,” he grunts. You shriek when he flips the two of you over so that he’s back on top. His nose brushes against yours as he speaks.

“If we do this,” he warns, hot breath fanning out over your chin, “I won’t be gentle. In every single one of my fantasies, I’ve ruined you—made you drool, made you cry. You name it, I’ve done it. You sure you can handle that?”

“Yes,” you breathe, utterly enthralled. “I’m sure.”

Harry tucks a loose piece of your hair behind your ear, peering down at you tenderly.

“Look so pretty,” he coos, fingers skimming down the side of your throat. “Can’t wait to wreck your cute, little—” He sucks in a deep breath, weakened by the shamelessness of his own thoughts. “Gonna make sure your knees knock together once I’m through with you.”

And maybe it’s not smart to get you naked in the middle of the gym, where anyone walking by could easily peer inside and witness him fucking you into oblivion. But he can’t find it in himself to care—he’s been waiting for this moment for years, and damn him if he doesn’t seize it while you’re like this: open, inviting, presented to him like gourmet food on a silver platter.

And speaking of food…

“I’m gonna stretch you out,” Harry states. “You’ve got to cum first if you wanna take my cock, understand?”

You nod rapidly.

He shakes his head. “Need to hear you say it, baby. You want it, too, right?”

“I want it,” you confirm, breathless. “I want it, I understand.”

He smiles. His fingers ruck up the material of your tank top, and you lift your back from the ground to help him remove it. Your bra is next, pale pink with a simple bow resting between the cups. He swears when you unclip it quickly, letting the straps fall down your shoulders before tossing it away.

“Christ,” he says, blinking. “Can’t believe you’re real.”

He lays you back down onto the floor of the ring, ducking his head and enveloping one of your nipples in his mouth. You moan. The bud hardens between his teeth, sensitive to his touch. He sucks harshly before pulling off, littering kisses along the skin of your breasts. His head swims with lust, transforming him into someone nearly unrecognizable. You seem to like it, though, so how bad could it really be?

“Next time,” Harry murmurs into your flesh, “I’m gonna get a proper taste. Eat you out ’til you go blind. But for now—,” he dips his hand past the waistband of your sweatpants, “—my fingers will just have to do.”

You shimmy your bottoms down, kicking them off unceremoniously and spreading your legs. And fuck, he nearly loses it right there, because this is what he’s been picturing for months, if not years. Having you laid out in front of him, exposed and ready and willing. Your thighs stretched wide, miles of soft skin leading inward and morphing into sticky, wet folds. He closes his eyes for a brief moment and inhales deeply—the scent of your arousal floods his nose, rendering him utterly helpless. Something akin to a man unhinged.

He rubs you over your panties, first. They’re nothing special—simple black cotton covering your mound and your hipbones. But fuck him, he wasn’t expecting the ocean of excitement that seems to have pooled and soaked through the fabric. His fingertips are damp when he pulls them away.

“You’re drenched,” he groans, shaking his head in disbelief. He hooks one digit into the elastic of your underwear, looking up at you with inquisitive eyes. “Can I take these off?”

“Yes, please.”

He tears the material down your legs, and then you’re naked beneath him, save for the rose-gold pendant resting on your sternum. He sits back on his heels as you spread your thighs wider, chewing on the inside of your cheek. His index finger taps the skin just below your navel, tracing a path down to where you need him most. You whine when he bypasses your clit completely, dropping instead to gather some of your wetness before trailing back up. He smears your arousal over the nub—just to get a steady, slippery rhythm going—and then leans down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Don’t wanna be too far,” he says sheepishly, sweetly kissing the tip of your nose. “Missed you.”

You seal your lips to his.

He makes you cum after a few minutes, slipping one finger into your channel, and then another. The entire time, his thumb stays perched on your clit, drawing expert circles and pulling wanton moans from your mouth. And when you cum—oh.

Oh.

You’re glorious, with lidded eyes and warm cheeks and teeth bared in pleasure. You ride out your high, spasming gently. Harry lays a firm hand on your stomach, feeling the muscles of your abdomen twitch beneath his palm. He continues to stimulate your clit, basking in the little aftershocks that zip up your spine and make your legs tremble.

If you were aroused before…good fucking God. He didn’t know it was possible for a woman to be this wet.

You kiss him as you come down from your orgasm, nipping softly at his bottom lip and sighing in relief. Both of his hands find your face—you seem unbothered by the fact that his fingers are coated in your juices, smearing messily against your cheek. He melts into you like he’s dying of thirst and you’re an oasis, lush and green and good. So, so good.

“Do you—,” he exhales raggedly, “—do you still want to?”

You nod, a soft smile forming on your face. It’s crazy, Harry thinks, how quickly you can oscillate between actual human sunshine and the devil personified. One minute, you’re asking him to fuck you, and the next, you’re giving him those eyes that make him feel as though every cell in his body has been liquefied.

“What were you saying about not being gentle?” you tease.

He chuckles quietly, shaking his head. You gasp when he hooks a finger into the chain around your neck. He takes your pretty pink pendant between two fingers, lifting it up and dragging the cool metal along the seam of your lips. You inhale sharply.

“I don’t have a condom,” he murmurs, sighing mournfully.

“I have an IUD,” you whisper, playing with the curls at the back of his head. “We’re good.”

He groans, dropping his face into the column of your throat. “You’re fuckin’ marvelous.”

You giggle.

He shudders when you begin to push his shorts down. You look up at him with raised brows when his cock slaps against his stomach, completely unrestrained.

“No underwear?”

“Always sticks to my balls when I get sweaty,” he whines, squeezing his eyes shut. “Need to let the boys breathe.”

A loud laugh flops out of your mouth. Harry snickers, too, trailing his nose up over your jawline so that he can catch your lips in a quick kiss. He moans as you wrap your fingers around his length, giving a few experimental pumps. Instinctively, his hips buck into your grip.

“You’re big,” you murmur. “Are you sure that it’s going to fit?”

“It’ll fit,” he promises.

He guides your legs up so that they’re wrapped around his waist, allowing him to slot himself closer to you. You gasp when his hand finds your cunt again, dipping two fingers inside before sweeping his palm over the length of your folds. He then smears your wetness along the shaft of his cock, makeshift lubrication to facilitate the first breach of your channel.

“You ready?” he says, positioning the tip of his dick at your entrance. “Deep breath for me, yeah?”

“Yeah.” You inhale, and he nudges his hips forward. You gasp as he slips into you, inch by thick inch, stretching you out in a way that you’ve never felt before. Harry reaches for your hands, tangling your fingers together and lifting them above your head. You arch your back with the new position, and he’s unsure of whether you’re trying to wiggle away or bring him in closer.

When the heels of your feet press against his ass, guiding him deeper, he assumes that it’s the latter.

“Fuck,” he stammers as your tight heat surrounds his cock. “How—how do you feel this good?”

A wheezing laugh punches its way out of your throat.

“Feel that,” Harry says hoarsely. “So fuckin’ hot and—and wet. Not gonna take any time at all, is it?”

“For me, or for you?” you taunt. He grumbles quietly, and you snicker.

After a brief moment of silence, you squeeze his knuckles reassuringly. “You can move.”

“Thank you,” he moans, capturing your mouth with his. Your breathing hitches as he pulls out before slowly sliding back in. When you sigh in response, he takes it as encouragement to pick up the pace.

Soon, he’s fucking into you quickly, your skin slapping together in a series of brutal thrusts. With each drive of his hips into yours, soft whimpers escape your lips, floating up into the hot air and melting like ice cream under the sun. Harry growls, sinking his teeth into the junction between your neck and your shoulder. The pain makes you writhe—in a good way.

“You don’t know how many times I’ve imagined this,” he grunts, laving his tongue over the indents on your skin. Your necklaces clink together—silver and rose-gold tangled in a mess of thin, delicate chains. “My—my hand could never—”

“Neither could mine,” you tell him, breathless.

His spine stiffens at your words, brain overcome with the thought of you lying in bed, your fingers buried between your legs and low whines pouring from your mouth. He groans; his next thrust is hard, keen, unforgiving.

He keeps you close, your bodies never separating. Your skin is slick with sweat, chests gliding together. Adrenaline rushes through Harry’s veins—he drives ahead, plunging inside of you with each fierce snap of his hips. You can’t do anything but lie there and take it, take it, take it.

“I want you,” he gasps, warm air washing out onto your collarbones. His hands are clammy, still locked with yours; he wouldn’t have it any other way. “I want you, I want you, I—” He gulps. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Harry,” you murmur, grazing your nose against his temple. “Harry, look at me.”

Reluctantly, he pulls his face away from your throat. Your eyes are soft when they land on his, forehead shining with sweat, lips swollen and raw. The bun holding most of your hair back has come loose (Harry is certain that it’s due to the way your bodies shift along the ground with every thrust.)

You swallow roughly and shake your head, staring past his features and searching for something deeper.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you say, nearly crushing his fingers in your grip. “I’m here.”

Your walls pulsate around him, and his rhythm falters. He swears softly, releasing one of your hands so that he can bring his thumb down to rub haphazard shapes against your clit. You moan, surprised.

“Cum for me,” he orders, nodding rapidly. “Cum for me, and then I’ll do the same. Where do you want it, hm? Tell me.”

“Inside,” you pant, your nose screwing up in pleasure. “Cum inside me.”

“Shit, you’re serious?” he asks, awestruck. His stomach twists hotly at your invitation. “Want me to claim your pretty cunt? Is that it?”

“God,” you say. You squirm beneath him, nodding frantically. “Please!”

“Fuck!” he cries, and when you clamp down on his cock, he’s gone.

The two of you ride out your highs together, quivering and grunting in unison. Harry wraps his arms around your waist, holding you close to his chest. You dig your nails into his back, clinging to him like a piece of wood drifting through the stormy sea. Colourful spots dance in his vision—he tries his best to blink them away. Your thighs tremble around his hips, caught in an endless cycle of vibrations.

“Holy shit,” you whimper, exhaling shakily. “That was…”

Harry braces himself over your face, keeping you shielded from everything outside of your little bubble.

“Yeah,” he agrees.

A low laugh falls from your lips, but it quickly morphs into a moan when he pulls out of you. He pauses for a moment, watching as white liquid trickles from your abused entrance. The erotic sight nearly has him ready to go again.

“Fuck,” he mutters. He scoops his release up with two fingers and plugs them back inside of you. “That’s hot.”

You gasp at the slight overstimulation, wrapping a hand around his wrist reflexively. He just shoots you a wicked grin, which has you giggling girlishly in response.

“I want a kiss,” you say, craning your neck.

Harry hums, crawling up your body to fulfill your request. You smile against his lips, tossing your arms over his shoulders. The two of you exchange soft pecks for the next few minutes, basking in the aftereffects of your orgasms. Warmth unfurls in Harry’s chest, potent and contagious. It spreads through his veins, dousing his senses in a golden glow.

“You’re fucking incredible,” he tells you, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. “And I like you. So much.”

“I like you, too,” you reply, tracing your fingertips over the muscles in his back. “But if you ever lie to me again—” Your expression grows serious. “—let’s just say that you won’t have to worry anymore about your boxers sticking to your balls, okay?”

It’s an earnest threat—he knows that you mean every word—but nevertheless, it makes him laugh. You giggle along with him; he rolls off of you, his spine meeting the floor of the ring, and you cuddle into his side. Your nails tap languidly against his sternum as he wraps an arm around your shoulders. The two of you lie there for a few long moments, enjoying the peaceful silence.

“They’re taking my case against James to trial,” you say at last.

Harry stiffens, lifting his head so that he can look down at you properly.

“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah.” You nod, refusing to meet his gaze. “But, um…my lawyer said that it might be a good idea to bring a witness to the stand. Just to seal the deal and stuff.”

You peek up at him shyly, and it clicks.

“Oh,” he says softly. “You want me?”

“Only if you’re comfortable with it,” you say hurriedly, resting your chin on his chest. “Please don’t think that I’m forcing you—”

“Hey, no,” he cuts you off, sweeping his fingers through your hair. The action soothes you, makes your eyelids flutter shut and your lips tremble with a nervous exhale. “’Course I’ll testify. I don’t want that piece of shit coming anywhere near you.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, pressing your mouth to his skin. You litter a few grateful kisses along his pectorals, and he smiles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don’t have to keep saying that,” Harry mumbles, chuckling tenderly. He takes your face between his hands, thumbs trailing idly over your temples. “I wanna keep you safe. Or—or make you feel safe, at least.”

Your eyes glisten.

“I do feel safe around you,” you say. Your lips twitch. “Except for when you’re trying to punch me in the gut.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “If you want to start tussling with me more often, you’re gonna have to get used to that.”

“Duly noted.” You smirk.

Harry sighs, letting his head fall back against the ground.

“Speaking of keeping you safe…,” he mutters, staring up at the ceiling. His fingers resume their previous ministrations, stroking languidly through your hair. “You should go pee, yeah? Heard it’s important for girls to do that after sex.”

You laugh, surprised by his words. “How—how do you know that?”

“Sister,” he reminds you. His cheeks dimple as he grins.

You nod, mouth curling into a fond smile. “Right.”

April 26, 2021

The crowd is deafening, encasing him in a cloud of noise. He refuses to let it distract him, zeroing in on his opponent with the intensity of a thousand suns. An experimental jab comes his way, gauging the distance between them, but Harry sidesteps it easily. He retaliates with a right hook, catching the side of the man’s head. It’s not a powerful blow, but it succeeds in disorienting him for a few milliseconds.

He charges forward, then, sensing an opportunity and seizing it before it can fade away. In a flurry of fists (and the odd kick here and there), he backs his opponent up until the ropes around the ring are digging into the man’s waist. He’s ruthless, giving him no chance to react, delivering blow after blow until his rival can barely stand on his own two feet. At that point, he retreats, stepping back and letting his victory come to him.

He needs this win. He needs this win. He needs this—

His challenger falls into the trap, stumbling forward with double vision and throwing a sloppy hook. Harry bats his hand away effortlessly, lunging forward and curving his arm up. Pride flares in his chest when his fist makes contact with his opponent’s jaw, making the man’s head snap back on his neck. He drops to the floor in an unconscious, muscular heap.

The seconds pass by like molasses, but at last, the referee is climbing into the ring and lifting Harry’s hand high above his head. The crowd roars. He closes his eyes for a moment, basking in the praise. When they flutter open again, they’re trailing upward, searching for one particular face in a sea of strangers.

And there you are.

You’re beaming, clapping frantically and pausing every so often to cup your hands around your mouth and amplify your cheers. Harry smiles, tilting his chin upward and letting his head fall back in relief. He doesn’t tear his gaze away from you, even as the referee releases his wrist and crouches to rouse his opponent from the ground.

He hears someone call his name and turns to the side. He finds your father peeking at him through the ropes circling the ring, a wide grin on his face. He beckons him over, a water bottle clutched tightly in his outstretched hand. Harry complies, breathing out a heavy sigh.

Meanwhile, you’re pushing through the throng of people that have now started moving toward the exit. Going against the current is difficult—you murmur quick apologies as you nudge past countless shoulders and elbows—but finally, you emerge from the crowd, unscathed. You see Harry chatting with a few people approximately thirty feet away, but before you can take another step, a big, burly security guard blocks your path.

“No spectators beyond this point,” he tells you gruffly.

“But, I—,” your mouth opens and closes, though no words come out. Instinctively, you point over the guard’s shoulder, your finger pinned on a very sweaty, very shirtless Harry. “That’s my boyfriend.”

You only have a moment to feel shocked by your claim. Boyfriend?

It’s been weeks since that night at the gym, and yeah, you suppose that the two of you are a thing, now. You’re going out. You’re exclusive. Whatever the hell you want to call it.

But you’ve never referred to him as your boyfriend, and he’s never referred to you as his girlfriend. You haven’t talked about potentially putting a label on your relationship, despite the fact that you’re both clearly interested in seeing each other and no one else.

Is it time to have that conversation?

Harry jumps in surprise when he hears you call his name. He turns toward the sound and then grunts when you barrel into him a moment later, wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. One of his hands reflexively falls to your bottom before quickly moving away. The feeling of his calloused palm on your ass sends a shiver down your spine.

You bury your face in his shoulder. He’s sweating all over, skin wet and muscles bulging from exertion. You know that you’ve caught him off-guard, because he whispers your name incredulously into your ear and presses a gentle kiss to your jaw. When he finally sets you down, you peer up at him with bright eyes and a large grin.

“That was incredible,” you gush, your hands falling to his biceps. “You obliterated him!”

“Thanks,” he chuckles. His cheeks are pink—you don’t think it’s because of the match.

In the periphery of your vision, you catch sight of your father. He’s standing there with raised brows and parted lips, and you suddenly remember that he hasn’t yet been made aware of your…situation. You gasp, stepping away from Harry quickly and draping your arms around your own torso. He seems to recognize your blunder as well, because his shoulders tense and his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

The two of you speak at the same time.

“Coach—”

“Dad—”

“I don’t want to know,” your father announces, holding up one hand and cutting you both off swiftly. His eyes bounce back and forth between you, features betraying no emotion whatsoever. Finally, his shoulders slump.

“I’m gonna call it a night, gioia,” he tells you. He then looks to the left, directing his next words at Harry. “Congratulations on your win, H. Have her home by midnight.”

“Dad, I’m a grown woman—,” you begin to scoff, but he gives you a pointed glare.

“Midnight,” he repeats.

You shrink away and nod.

~*~

Before leaving, Harry decides to take a quick shower in the men’s locker room. You sit on one of the benches, tapping your foot against the tiles as you watch him get undressed. It doesn’t take him long—he’s only wearing a pair of shorts, after all—but you savour every moment, your eyes raking over his muscular back as he bends down to pick his bottoms up off of the ground. He tosses the fabric into his drawstring bag before peering over his shoulder at you.

“Sure you don’t wanna join me?” he asks, a coy smirk playing on his lips when he catches you staring.

You look away quickly, picking at your nails and feigning indifference. “Where anyone could walk in? I’m good.”

He shrugs, snickering quietly. “Suit yourself.”

You ogle his plump ass as he walks away.

A moment later, one of the showers turns on. You can hear Harry humming softly as he steps under the spray. You sigh, leaning back against the wall and fishing your phone out from your pocket. For the next few minutes, you scroll distractedly through social media, bored out of your mind.

You grunt softly and set your phone down, tiptoeing over to the door of the locker room and fastening it shut. The lock above the handle slides into place with a low click!

“Fuck it,” you mutter.

You flick open the button of your jeans, shoving the material down your thighs. Eventually, you’re naked, goosebumps pebbling on your arms. You set your clothes back down onto the bench and grab a spare towel, fiddling with the necklace hanging from your throat. A thought occurs to you; you unclasp the chain, pulling it off and letting it pool in the palm of your hand.

Harry’s idle singing grows louder as you approach the row of showers. It’s not hard to find his cubicle—it’s the only one with the curtain drawn over the entrance. You pad toward it, hanging your towel next to his and calling out, “Harry?”

“Yeah?” His hums stop.

You grasp the fabric of the curtain, pulling it back and peering inside. Immediately, Harry’s gaze locks with yours. He’s completely bare, standing beneath the water with hooded eyes and shampoo foaming in his hair. You slip into the cubicle, not missing the way he gawks at your naked body.

“I changed my mind,” you murmur, peering up at him shyly.

He presses his lips together to fight back a smile. “Yeah. You sure did.”

“Shut up and let me rinse your hair.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Before you can bury your hands into the wet strands, however, you remember the jewellery clutched between your fingers.

“Actually—,” you say, hesitating. “I, um—I wanted to give this to you.”

You scoop the necklace up from your palm, holding it out nervously. Harry recognizes it immediately, and his eyes widen in surprise.

“What for?” he asks, not unkindly.

“It’s my lucky charm,” you tell him, shrugging your shoulders. “I just figured…maybe it’ll work for you, too.”

He kisses you, then, grabbing your face in his hands and crushing his lips to yours. You whimper into his mouth, finding his wrists and encasing them in a tight grip. The kiss is passionate, bruising, fiery—you’ve never felt so wanted.

Harry pulls back once the two of you run out of air. Even then, he keeps his forehead pressed snugly against yours, staying close. He’s breathing heavily, and you’re starting to sweat, the humidity of the stall seeping into every last pore on your body. Harry shakes his head, gazing into your eyes.

“You’re my lucky charm,” he says.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest.

“But,” he continues, smiling softly, “I’ll take the necklace. It’ll be good to have for when you’re not there.”

You nod wordlessly, and he steps back. His hands find his throat, fumbling with the chain dangling over his collarbones. He reaches over his shoulders, unclasping his own necklace and presenting it to you.

“Here,” he says. “I’ll take yours, and you take mine.”

You nod again.

You turn around slowly, electricity thrumming through your body as Harry guides the silver chain around your neck. The shiny cross pendant rests against your sternum; the warmth of the metal seeps into your skin. When you face him again, Harry whistles lowly, his lips twitching.

“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding proudly. “My girl.”

“Is that what I am?” you ask, peeking up at him through your lashes. “Your girl?”

He pauses. He really does look ridiculous with the white, frothing shampoo slicked through his hair.

“Is that what you want to be?”

A moment of silence ensues.

“Yeah,” you finally say, biting your bottom lip. “It is.”

Harry smiles. He leans forward and kisses you again, softer this time. You nudge his shoulder with the hand that’s still holding your necklace, prompting him to spin around.

“Come on,” you murmur, delivering one last affectionate peck to his mouth. “Your turn.”

~*~

Harry pulls up to your house fifteen minutes before midnight. You unbuckle your seatbelt, modifying your position in the front seat so that you can look at him properly. Your hair is still slightly damp from your shared shower, and your skin is fresh and clean. You smell like him—like the body wash you had both used to scrub yourselves down in the small cubicle. A silver necklace—his necklace—peeks out from beneath the collar of your denim jacket.

The jewellery suits you. He doesn’t ever want you to take it off.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment until you eventually crack a smile.

“You look like you want to eat me,” you say, laughing.

“C’mere, then,” he chuckles, already leaning forward. “Lemme have a taste.”

“Gross.” You stick your tongue out playfully but obey him nonetheless, your lips meeting over the middle console of the vehicle. Harry cups your face in one hand, keeping you close. You sigh into his mouth, and he swallows the sound down—it’s the prettiest fucking thing he’s ever heard.

You carry on like that for the next few minutes, exchanging soft kisses that don’t go beyond him placing a calloused palm on your thigh. When you finally pull away, a breathless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a great kisser?” you ask.

“Only a dozen times a day,” he replies, smirking gently.

You laugh, carding your fingers through his hair and tilting your head to the side as you stare at him. Your eyes are far away, getting lost in your own thoughts, it seems.

“What is it?” he whispers, even though there’s no one else in the car aside from you and him.

“I love you,” you murmur absentmindedly.

Harry freezes; your confession knocks the air from his lungs.

“What?” he says, his brows knitting together.

At last, you snap out of your trance. Your admission sinks in, and you recoil, shocked at your own boldness.

“I—,” you start, your eyes growing impossibly wide. “I just meant—we’ve known each other for years, now, but I feel like I really got to know you these past few months. These past few weeks, especially.”

You shrug, playing nervously with the silver cross hanging around your neck. Harry’s heart somersaults at the sight.

“I’m sorry if it’s bad timing,” you continue; you’re rambling, now. “And I understand that it might be weird considering the fact that we just put a label on this, but—,” you break off, taking a deep breath, “—I love you. I do.”

He reaches out, trailing his fingers over the faint curve of your jaw. You gasp softly when his thumb ghosts over your bottom lip.

“Did you just apologise for telling me that you love me?” he says. Crinkles appear at the corners of his eyes.

You squeeze your own eyes shut, cringing at his words and shaking your head.

“Don’t repeat it,” you plead. “I’m already embarrassed enough.”

“Oh, so loving me is embarrassing?” he asks, smirking slyly.

You frown, batting his hand away and shifting your body so that you’re no longer facing him. You place your elbow against the ledge of the passenger door, resting your chin on your fist and staring pointedly out the window.

“Hey,” Harry coos, though he can’t stop the inkling of laughter that seeps into his voice. “Don’t be like that.”

“I take it back,” you say flatly, refusing to turn around. “I hate you, actually.”

“Really,” he says, but it’s not a question. He unbuckles his own seatbelt so that he can lean over the middle console and nuzzle at your cheek.

“My girlfriend hates me?” he asks; he knows that he’s being insufferable, but he can’t help it. Messing with you is so much fun.

“Yes.” Your response is curt. “She does.”

“That’s not nice,” he says, curling his lips down into a dramatic pout. He presses a gentle kiss to the side of your neck—right against a particular spot that makes you melt every single time. He knows it, and so do you.

“That’s not nice at all,” Harry continues, littering sloppy pecks down the column of your throat. “This how you treat the man who loves you?”

You pause when his words register in your brain.

“Stop lying,” you mutter, keeping your gaze glued to the scenery outside your window.

“’M not lying,” he tells you, squeezing your thigh gently. “Said you’d cut my balls off if I did it again, remember?”

And despite your initial sense of humiliation, you laugh. Harry smiles, placing his free hand on your cheek and guiding you to look over at him. You submit to his wishes, gazing at him through pretty, wispy lashes. He tilts forward ever-so-slightly, nudging your noses together and fastening his lips to yours. When he pulls back after a moment, he pinches your chin between two fingers.

“I love you,” he says earnestly.

“I love you, too,” you whisper.

Your eyelids flutter shut as he slides his palm up your leg; he stops only once it’s resting in the crease between your hip and your thigh, dangerously close to your groin.

“We have—,” he cranes his neck, peering over at the digital clock on the truck’s dashboard, “—five minutes until you have to be inside. Think I can make you cum between now and then?”

You scoff, pushing him away and laughing at his crudeness.

“You’re insane,” you giggle, shooting him a faux-stern glare. “Behave.”

“Fine,” he grumbles, frowning childishly. You just grin, slipping your hand around his neck and pulling him in for a doting kiss. You press a series of rapid pecks along the seam of his mouth, nipping playfully at his bottom lip before retreating. Instinctively, he follows you, but you dig your fingers into his shoulder, stopping him before he can get too far.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, reaching for the handle on the door.

Harry watches with wide, awestruck eyes as you exit the car. You clutch your purse closer to your side, looking back at him expectantly and waiting for his response.

He clears his throat, blinking out of his reverie.

“Yeah,” he nods, nostrils flaring slightly. “Goodnight.”

He peels away from your house only once you disappear through the front door. Subconsciously, his hand finds the rose-gold chain hanging around his throat. He fiddles with the necklace, running his thumb over the smooth surface of your shiny pendant. There’s something unreal—almost dreamlike—about having it between his fingers. He’s spent so long watching you fumble and toy with it—watching it bring you comfort when you’re nervous, or bored, or afraid.

Now, it’s his.

And so are you.

Faint music plays from the truck’s stereo; Harry reaches forward, twisting a knob and turning the volume up to its full capacity. Ariana Grande’s familiar vocal riffs pour through the speakers.

He sings along at the top of his lungs, hollering triumphantly the entire ride home.

~*~

Extra: Knockout [READ IT NOW ON PATREON]

if you enjoyed this series, please consider donating to my ko-fi! thank you bunches <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #oh my god i can't believe this is the last part aaaaaaaaaa #i really hope u all like it!#boxrry #harry writing

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tossawary · 4 years

Text

Because my brain does NOT stop even when I’m grounded, today my brain told me, “Hey, I figured out how to make a Hobbit Fusion AU work.” And I was like, “Great! We’re working, though.” And my brain was like, “I’ve figured out how to make it a Pre-Canon Canon Divergence AU for Moshang.”

And I was like, “...I’m listening.”

The Hobbit is another one of my Comfort Media and it got brought up when I was asking about that, but I was feeling kind of “eh” about mixing Tolkien mythology with SVSSS. I mean, the mental picture of Dwarf Mobei-Jun is extremely funny and Shang Qinghua would make a great hobbit! But that interpretation felt a little too direct for my AU tastes.

So, hm, now I have another potential Big Bang contender. My love for The Hobbit is very, VERY strong and looking at my current outline, I have to be like, “Yeah, this could be 50,000 words, no problem.”

It’s a very good outline!

After saving Mobei-Jun, Shang Qinghua bailed A.S.A.P. because he honestly thought Mobei-Jun was going to kill him. He psyched himself out of sticking around before Mobei-Jun woke up. Mobei-Jun didn’t get enough information to track Shang Qinghua down.

Shang Qinghua (who isn’t SQH because he isn’t the Peak Lord) decides that he can’t fucking take it anymore and bails from Cang Qiong Mountain Sect too. The System objects, but also falls into line when Airplane shrieks at it. Airplane is going to go become a humble merchant and inventor and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop him!

It turns out that Shang Qinghua’s presence or help was actually crucial to stop some Emperor of the Abyss from taking over the Ice Palace and the Northern Desert. Airplane is like, “Oh, yeah, I remember… offhandedly writing something about that happening in the past off-screen?” It was one of those things that he just threw in there because it sounded really cool, and it gave Mobei-Jun another reason to “owe” Shang Qinghua and not kill him immediately, but he never got to elaborate on it because he was too busy writing stallion novel bullshit.

So, borrowing the lore from my “Horns” one-shot, an extremely powerful Emperor of the Abyss escaped the Eternal Abyss. This is some devouring horror being from the depths of the abyss, which ate everything in its vicinity in the abyss itself and crawled into the Demon Realm to eat more things. The Emperor of the Abyss was attracted to Mobei-Jun’s father. They fought. Mobei-Jun’s father should have won, but didn’t, because he was too fucked up (thanks to his own hedonism or something) to fight properly. What an asshole.

Mobei-Jun’s father was killed and devoured by the Emperor of the Abyss, which has made it… exponentially powerful. It’s now… basically a calamity. The desolation that it leaves in its wake across the Northern Desert is unspeakable. Mobei-Jun and his family, their allied clans, and pretty much all demons in the Northern Desert have had to flee.

Mobei-Jun is currently essentially a “guest” of the Sha Clan. He’s homeless. He’s lost the power of his ancestors. He’s a “king” without a kingdom. It’s humiliating. He needs to kill the abyssal creature to retrieve: his title, his ancestors’ power, and his kingdom.

While working for other demon clans to support his family and people, Mobei-Jun crosses paths with Airplane. Airplane has become a relatively successful merchant and inventor, and he calls himself Shang Houhua. He lives a very comfortable life and does his best to ignore anything resembling the plot. He’s pretty successful at ignoring the plot.

Mobei-Jun is never in a good mood these days, but he’s especially pissed off to see that human who abandoned him all those years ago. Airplane tries to argue that Mobei-Jun told him to fuck off, but Mobei-Jun is too angry. Airplane makes lots of offers in an effort to get Mobei-Jun to spare his life, one of which ends up being a claim that he can help Mobei-Jun kill the Emperor of the Abyss and make him a king again. Mobei-Jun pauses, now even more pissed off than before, and Airplane just starts babbling desperately to save his own skin.

Mobei-Jun was already forming a company to take on a Quest for the Northern Desert - in the hopes of slaying the Emperor of the Abyss and retaking his homeland. Part of the issue has been that forming the company is difficult. Mobei-Jun wants people who are loyal to HIM and ONLY to him. He won’t owe anyone else anything or promise them pieces of his homeland.

(Airplane is like, “Bro, I don’t know if you can afford to be so picky, but okay.”)

So Mobei-Jun is like… “I still want to kill you, but fine, you can come on our quest and help us.”

So Airplane ends up on the Quest for the Northern Desert, led by his very angry future murderer the “king without a kingdom” Mobei-Jun, to fight the calamitous Emperor of the Abyss who killed Mobei-Jun’s father. Fuck.

Some details beyond this opening premise:

Airplane and Mobei-Jun fall in love over the course of the quest, obviously. They have their own hijinks like each chapter of The Hobbit (equivalents to the trolls, to Rivendell, to Goblintown, to Beorn, to Mirkwood, and to Laketown, etc.).

Oh, damn, I just realized that making a pre-fall Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang the Beorn equivalents would be so fucking funny.

The Emperor of the Abyss is a horrifying Smaug equivalent. It can totally talk because Airplane having a conversation with a draconian horror sounds incredible. I would love to have Airplane outwit the Emperor of the Abyss in some fashion.

Mobei-Jun and Airplane somehow manage to successfully kill the Emperor of the Abyss together. Like, together. Probably using some plot device whipped up or some clever plan devised by Airplane on his feet. Mobei-Jun trusts Airplane at a crucial moment and it all works out. Airplane actually gets Mobei-Jun his kingdom back.

I’m tempted to just skip over the Ring and not having a Ring equivalent. BUT if I made this into a longfic instead of a one-shot, I would have a Ring equivalent (if it was a one-shot, I would ditch the Ring equivalent). I think I would make Xin Mo the One Ring equivalent. During the Goblintown equivalent event, Airplane falls either into the Eternal Abyss or into Bing-Ge’s dimension, where he proceeds to successfully take up Xin Mo because he knows the trick and portal himself out of the Eternal Abyss, or he proceeds to outwit Bing-Ge in some fashion and uses the Xin Mo sword to portal himself back to the right dimension.

So then Airplane is stuck with this super powerful sword that he doesn’t want to use again because he KNOWS that it will fuck him up. He KNOWS that it will FUCK HIM UP. So Airplane has to go through the rest of the quest ignoring the temptation of the Xin Mo sword that he is absolutely not supposed to have and can’t possibly let anyone else have.

(Oh, man, imagining the influence of Xin Mo giving Airplane extra horny thoughts about Mobei-Jun on the rest of the quest is very funny. Like, Airplane was already hot for Mobei-Jun, but now it’s worse and he might never have a normal thought ever again.)

Bagginshield Movie Hug when Airplane turns up again, for sure. Mobei-Jun thought he was dead. Mobei-Jun smiles and everything, until he remembers to frown again.

I’m feeling like I don’t want Airplane to use Xin Mo to help defeat the Emperor of the Abyss, but it makes sense if he does. Him not using it doesn’t make much sense. I do like the idea of Airplane dealing the killing blow and Mobei-Jun’s pride being hurt by Airplane being the one to kill it. I also like the idea of Mobei-Jun being a little smitten by Airplane just… loyally handing him his kingdom and restoring the power of his ancestors. I also really like the idea of Airplane just… not having some super powerful plot device up his sleeve on the quest.

Like, instead of Airplane’s Author God knowledge totally setting him up to deal with this thing no problem, Airplane had NO FUCKING PLAN when he set out with Mobei-Jun. He was talking completely out of his ass when he said he knew how to help Mobei-Jun. That this all worked out at all is almost completely due to luck and improvisation.

That feels MUCH more true to both Shang Qinghua and to Bilbo Baggins. Lucky lads of fast-talking, complaining, lying, not knowing what the fuck is really going on, thirsting after kings with tragic backstories, and somehow not dying despite winging it all the time.

Instead of goldsickness, Mobei-Jun is forced to deal with some side-effects of consuming the Emperor of the Abyss to regain the power of his ancestors. (Demon cannibalism rituals. Yeah.) He starts acting really scary and out-of-character and forceful, until Airplane loses his nerve and runs away. Maybe under the influence of the late Emperor of the Abyss, Mobei-Jun actually tries to kill him? I could see Mobei-Jun trying to kill Airplane for the Xin Mo sword which dealt the finishing blow on the Emperor of the Abyss.

(I need a better name for this thing. If I can’t come up with something that actually sounds good, I might just call it “The Calamity”, but that’s giving me BOTW vibes so I don’t like it. Maybe I’d call it “The Desolation” or something? Ehhhh, I don’t really like that either.)

I want to have a Battle of the Five Armies equivalent, if only so Tianlang-Jun and Zhuzhi-Lang can swoop in as benevolent helpers as the Beorn equivalents. Currently, I’m seeing three options. 1) The orc army equivalent are neighboring demon lords who want to strike while the new Mobei-Jun is getting established. 2) The orc army equivalent is Linguang-Jun trying to kill his nephew and take power at the last minute. 3) The orc army equivalent is Bing-Ge here with an army and he’s pissed off and wants his sword back.

On one hand, 1 and 2 would be SO MUCH EASIER to pull off. I could be really lazy about the whole thing. On the other hand, 3 would be much fresher (more surprising and links back to the Xin Mo element), more challenging and the idea of pre-fall Tianlang-Jun facing off with Bing-Ge delights me. Kick his ass, Tianlang-Jun!

(Su Xiyan gets involved? My brain says YES. Kick his ass, Su Xiyan!)

Also, I was sad about there being no Fili and Kili equivalents, because Mobei-Jun has no friends, and I’ll have to make up a company pretty much from scratch. (Sha Hualing is too young and Luo Binghe hasn’t been born yet.) BUT then I was like, “Where’s Linguang-Jun in all this?” And I would absolutely have Linguang-Jun be a part of Mobei-Jun’s Company. Instead of nephews, Mobei-Jun has a sketchy uncle who might be trying to kill him. Keeping Linguang-Jun out of it might be easier, but actually doing some character-building with him sounds fun and challenging, and I’d rather limit the number of OCs if possible.

Mobei-Jun manages to shake off the goldsickness equivalent somehow, probably through “the power of love” (and/or straight-up “dual cultivation” with Airplane?). Moshang makes up while Mobei-Jun is apparently mortally wounded from fighting Bing-Ge and Airplane thinks this is all his fault. But Mobei-Jun doesn’t die! It’s all good!

It’d be pretty funny if there was a “Returning to the Shire” equivalent where Airplane leaves because he thinks Mobei-Jun hates him now and never wants to see him again. So then Mobei-Jun has to track his man down like, “Get back here and marry me. (Also I am so sorry for trying to kill you. Please forgive me. I hate myself so much for that.)”

And they all live happily ever after!

Holy shit, this wasn’t in Proud Immortal Demon Way.

#svsss hobbit fusion au #tossawary updates #tossawary svsss #moshang #mobei jun #shang qinghua #comfort media fusion aus #fic ideas

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blackmissfrizzle · 4 years

Text

Sweatpants SZN (Angel Edition)

Characters: Angel Reyes x black!reader

Summary: Angel goes out dressed like a hoe. Inspired by this post about my frustration by the boys wearing jeans when they sleep.

Warnings: it’s long 3k worth 😬 and a whole lotta filth

A/N: Here’s another series for my Mayan men! I already have plans for Nestor, EZ, and Miguel.

A/N 2: Special dedication to @starrynite7114 thank you for always indulging me and being a wonderful friend

To check out more here’s my masterlist and if you want notifications here’s my taglist.

Photo cred: @starrynite7114

When you first found out that Angel sometimes wore jeans to sleep it boggled your mind. You were the type of girl that took off her bra, kick off her shoes, and take off your pants as soon as you got home. So, to see Angel sleeping in his jeans was lowkey traumatizing.

As a dutiful girlfriend (and also a partly selfish girlfriend) you bought Angel some gray sweatpants. You wanted him to be as comfortable as possible and looking good at the same time. What you didn’t count on was that everyone else could appreciate the goods.

You were pouring yourself a cup of coffee of when Angel came home. He’d left early this morning before you woke up. “I’m back, querida.” You could hear him setting down bags on the table.

“Good morn-ingg,” the cheerfulness dropped out of your voice when you saw what Angel was wearing. A plain white t-shirt that was getting too tight, because of all the working out he was doing which made him almost as cut as EZ and a pair of those damn gray sweatpants you had bought for him.

“What?” Angel asked, confused at your sudden change in mood. “Do I got something on my face or clothes?” He started swiping his face and body, trying to clean the imaginary dirt off him.

“Nah, you’re good. Did you really wear that to the store?” Angel was genuinely confused. He didn’t see anything wrong with his outfit. “Yeah. Does it not match or something?”

“You really went out like that without me?” It finally dawned on Angel. He heard hints of jealousy. He didn’t know why he didn’t hear it at first, because he was so used to asking this same question. Angel did his best to keep his smile to himself, you were gonna pop a gasket when he told you where he went after the grocery store. “Yeah, you were sleeping. I doubt you wanted me to wake you up to go to the store and Vicki’s place.”

You almost spit out your coffee when Angel mentioned Vicki’s place. “YOU WENT WHERE?!” Angel began putting up the groceries because if he didn’t, he would’ve burst out laughing at you. “Vicki’s. Bishop called when I was at the store and asked if I could drop some things over.”

He was fucking with you. He was avoiding eye contact with you for a reason. “Angel!” He stopped putting the cereal on top of the refrigerator and turned towards you. He didn’t even last thirty seconds of you staring at him before he started laughing. “Screw you, Angel!” It didn’t even bother him that you were angry, your jealousy was cute to him.

Too enraptured in aggressively washing out your mug, you didn’t notice Angel walking up on you until he wrapped his hands around your middle and rested his chin on your shoulder. “C’mon you can’t really be mad, can you? Remember I’m a grown man and can wear whatever I want.” He threw the line you used at him the many multiple times when he didn’t agree with the outfit of your choice.

Damn it! You couldn’t think of a great comeback. “Its not the same!” Angel’s laugh vibrated throughout your body. “Someone sounds jealous.” He sung into your ear. You elbowed him off of you and started putting up the rest of the groceries. “No! You not even all that cute to be doing all of that for.”

“Oh really?” He arched his eyebrow at you before he reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. Angel just made you eat your words. It was like you had a golden god standing before you and the only appropriate response would be to get on your knees to worship him. Thankfully, you had a modicum of dignity and only salivated at the man in front of you.

You were so spaced out that you allowed Angel to pick you up and set you on the counter. “What you staring at, baby?” Angel nudged his nose against yours then ran it along your neck.

“Nothing,” you pouted. Angel kissed your nose then your lips. “You sure?” He took one of your hands and ran it along his body. “Because it seems like you were appreciating my arms, my abs,” his voice got lower as your hand went lower, “my dick.” He emphasized the k. “You feel that? That’s all yours, mami. No need to be jealous, ok?”

“Okay.” You resigned your jealousy and tried to kiss Angel, but he pulled away from you. He reminded you of your agreement last night. No sex today until you and him were finished with cleaning the house, and he knew if he let you kiss him then he would end up fucking you right on the table.

Reluctantly you got up, but at least you were motivated to clean the house faster. Angel took on your shared bedroom and bathroom while you had the front of the house. There were stolen kisses between switches of cleaning supplies and smacks on the butt whenever you passed each other (which Angel pretended he didn’t like when you did it to him.)

You had just finished cleaning your part of the house when you finally allowed yourself to watch Angel cut the grass in the backyard. Grabbing two glasses of sweet tea, you went to stand in the doorway and watch Angel work. Even though they were gonna be trouble those grey sweatpants were a gift from god. They slung low enough on his hips that you could appreciated his Adonis belt. The sun beating down on him made him sweat and if it was possible you would pay an insane amount of money to be one of the sweat droplets rolling down his body.

He finally cut off the lawn mower and smiled at you perving at him. “Thank you,” he took the glass of sweet tea and chugged it down, some of it getting into his beard which made you think of other ways to get his beard wet. “All done cleaning?” He asked, backing you into the house. “Yeah,” you pulled him by the drawstrings until his phone started ringing. “Angel, no,” you whined, knowing it either wouldn’t be a short call or it would be call for him do club business.

Unfortunately, it was the latter. Angel apologized for the inconvenience and jumped in the restroom for a quick shower. Before he left, he apologized again and promised to make it up to you after the party at the clubhouse.

Angel dressing like a thot, being denied sex twice in one day, and being left alone to your own devices was not a good combination. You were doing a good job with keeping your brattiness tucked away, but when you were looking for an outfit for the party, your brattiness in the form of dark Kermit was bubbling up. In the end Kermit won.

As Angel predicted, you made it to the party before him and you were wearing the skirt, he specifically told you not to wear without him present. “Y/N, I’m begging you. Please, please go change.” The last time you wore something this risky at the clubhouse, Angel shoved you into EZ’s trailer and screwed you into tears on his bed. “Chill out, I brought my own car tonight. No one is going in your trailer.” That calmed him down only a tiny bit because he knew once his brother saw you, he was going to lose it.

“He’s gonna kill you, Y/N.” Gilly told you while glaring off anyone thinking of trying to talk to you. No one was gonna approach his friend’s girl while he was around. “The only thing he is gonna kill is,” EZ quickly interrupted you, “Please do not finish that sentence.”

Outside Angel and Coco had just arrived from across the border. “Hey man, y’all got some honeys down here.” Paul from the San Bernardino chapter ran up on them. Coco entertained him while Angel listened. He honestly hasn’t paid attention to any other women since you’ve came in your life. “Then there’s one chick, mannnnnnnn. If Gilly wasn’t acting like some damn guard dog I would’ve talked to her already.”

“Gilly got a girl?” Angel asked, opening the door. “Not to my knowledge.” Coco responded stepping in after his friend.

“Oh, there she is!” Paul pointed out to you talking to EZ and Gilly. “Man, it look like she got some good dick sucki-,” Abruptly Angel grabbed Paul by the collar. “I dare you to finish that fucking sentence.”

Paul saw the fire in Angel’s eyes, and he knew he made a big mistake. “Shit, Angel! My bad! I didn’t know she was your old lady. I won’t even look in her direction.”

“Keep it that way!” Angel pushed Paul away and made a beeline towards you. First, it was EZ that noticed him. Suddenly, the prospect was really into keeping the glasses clean. Then it was Gilly who walked away from you in mid conversation, leaving you confused until you felt the familiar mold of Angel’s body against. “You got ten seconds to walk to the backseat of your car or I’m throwing you over my fucking shoulder.” He whispered into your ear harshly while deceiving everyone else into thinking he was just giving you a hug and whispering sweet words in your ears.

The ten seconds started once he released you and you wasted no time. When Angel got like this it was better to shut up and listen. Angel ignored the ‘hellos’ and ‘what’s up, man’. He was on a mission and nothing would stop him. You were just about to open the car door when you noticed that your car was parked in front of the clubhouse. It was close enough for everyone to hear all the ungodly things Angel was about to do to you. “Aren’t you gonna move the car?” You asked when he was still behind you when you opened the back door. “Get in the got damn car,” he ordered through clenched teeth. You scrambled to get inside, from his tone you knew you didn’t want to press your luck. Once inside, Angel wasted no time. He folded you in half like a table, moved your panties to the side and dived in.

Usually when Angel ate you out, he’d warm you up. A kiss here, a kiss there, small slow torturous licks, but right now all that was thrown out the window. This was as brutal as to all the actual rough fucking he would do to you.

His teeth ran across your clit and it felt like he hit every single nerve. “Angel!” You shout out, reaching out to grab his hair, but he slapped your hand away. “Did I say you could touch my shit? Keep your hands to yourself.”

“But Daddyyy,” you whined, still making grabby hands. “What the fuck did I just say?” Angel grabbed ahold of your wrists in one hand and choked you with the other. “To keep my hands to myself.”

“Then do that shit,” he growled. He released you and went back to work. You had to settle for the handlebar by the window because Angel wasn’t easing up. In fact, he added two of his fingers furiously pumping into you. “Look at you creaming all over my fingers. You don’t even deserve them. What did I fucking tell you about this damn skirt?”

“Not to wear it.” You whimpered about to reach for his wrist, but then you remembered his warning to keep your hands to yourself. “Then you understand why daddy’s pissed. Especially when I got brothers from other chapters talking about how fine you are and how you got some good dick sucking lips.”

“I’m so sorry, daddy.” He hovered over you to give you a quick peck. “It’s okay, baby. You’ll make it up to me by screaming my name.”

Still keep his fingers in you, Angel suckled your bud. The combination of his cold rings in your heated core and his tongue flicking your clit, your orgasm hit you like a freight train. “ANGELLLL, FUCKKKKKKK!” You screamed, beating on the surprisingly strong window.

“Keep cumming.” Angel’s voice was muffled by your pussy in his mouth, but you heard him clearly.

Finally, you calmed down but now you were jonesing for Angel’s dick. You went for Angel’s belt but he back away from you as far as the car allowed you to. “Daddy, I need you to fuck me please.”

“I needed you to be a good girl and listen, but we all can’t get what we want.” Angel felt bad when he saw your dejected little face. He decided to give you a little something else also you didn’t say his name enough for him to let everyone know you belong to him. “If you promise to be a good girl, I’ll give you something to hold you over.”

“I promise, I’ll be good!” Angel laughed at how quickly you agreed to it. He slid your panties off and scooted you closer to him. He grind his clothed groin against your bare one. The friction of the fabric of his jeans on your sensitive clit had you on the verge of tears. “Nah, don’t start that shit,” Angel slapped you. “We still have a party to attend.” Was this man fucking crazy? He expected you to face everyone after this?

Angel proceeded to dry hump you as if he was actually fucking you. “Oh my god, Angel! Just like that. Keep fucking me just like that daddy.” He bent down and wrapped his hand around your throat. “Yeah? You gonna cum all on Daddy’s jeans like a good little slut, huh?”

“Yes, please. I need it so bad, daddy.”

“Ok, just for you.” Angel pressed down on your hips and pummeled into you. “Angel, Angel, Angel,” you chanted his name over and over again while you came for the second time in less than fifteen minutes.

Angel enjoyed your shuddering underneath him, but he couldn’t enjoy it for too long. You two had a party to get to. Taking your panties, he rolled them back up and then fixed your skirt. “When we get out of here you stand in front of me since you made a mess on my jeans, ok.”

“Ok,” Angel pulled you out of the car and smoothed out your clothes. While he did that you tried to clean his face since it was soaked with your juices, but he wouldn’t let you.

The two of you came back in the clubhouse, where the lights illuminated Angel’s face. Gilly was outside when everything happened and when he just saw Angel’s face he shuddered in disgust and called Angel a nasty fuck.

After Gilly left, Liza, head of the Angel Reyes fan club walked up to you two, but she completely ignored you. “Heyy Angel. You looked really good this morning. Sweatpants season suits you very well.” With no shame she dragged her eyes all over his body but was disappointed when you were blocking his crotch.

“Yeah, my girl got them for me. Thanks babe.” Angel turned to you, gave you a kiss, and allowed you to take advantage of it. You took control and basically were swapping spit with him in front of this girl. “Mmm, you taste just like me.” Swiping your thumb across Angel’s bottom lip, you collected some of your lip gloss and juices, and then put it in your mouth. Liza stomped off and Coco called y’all sick fucks.

Just like Angel said, he used you as a shield. The entire night you were stuck like glue. His beer got empty and when you attempted to get up to get him another, he slammed you back down on his lap and yelled at EZ to bring him another. Soon, you figured it had less to do with his now dried and stainless crotch and more to do with your short ass skirt.

The evil bastard also did it so you could constantly feel his erection. It was so bad that you would zone out and think about how great Angel would feel inside of you. You were so deep in your thots thoughts that you hadn’t realized Bishop came and asked you a question. The men around the table laughed at your confused huh and Bishop repeated his question. Quickly you recovered and gave him a smart answer.

“Can’t focus, mami?” Angel smiled against your neck and thrusted his hips, causing more friction between your legs.

Fucking tease! Two can play at that game. The rest of the night you would grind in his lap, making him lose his concentration. You were the reason he lost poker twice that night. Eventually he got tired of your antics and you two finally left the party.

“Imma hit the shower and get all this desert off me. How about you sit and get ready for daddy, hmm?” Angel didn’t wait for your answer and began stripping, leaving a trail of clothes from your bedroom to the bathroom. While he showered you put on your canary yellow Fenty lingerie set. It was one of the few Angel didn’t rip because he loved how it complimented your skin.

Usually Angel came out in a towel or butt ass naked but this time he came out with those damn sweats on. And just like that all the pumping up and the shit talking you did was gone. At this point you were gonna let Angel ruin you.

“Fuck querida, you’re beautiful.” Still standing, Angel bent over, buried his hands in your hair, and kissed you to the point that you almost forgot your own name.

When he ended the kiss, you could feel the energy shift. Daddy Angel was back in the building. He backed away to sit in the chair, but never turned his back on you, so you could keep an eye on his dick print. “Come crawl to Daddy, hermosa.” He crooked his finger at you.

As you made your way to him, he pulled his dick out. You wanted to get to him faster, but that wouldn’t be sexy at all, so you paced yourself. Angel didn’t make it easy for you though. He took his dick out and started stroking it.

Fuck that slow shit, you sped up some more causing Angel to chuckle. “Grab it.” Angel took his hand off of himself and you quickly replaced it with yours. “Feel that, mami? That’s all because of you.” It felt amazing to know you could cause this type of reaction out of Angel.

Normally, Angel would slap his dick in your face, but since he gave you free reign you did it yourself. You enjoyed the hiss that came from you slapped it on your tongue. “See that’s your dick, baby. Now suck it like it yours.” Angel laced his hands behind his head as you went to work.

Keeping your eyes on Angel, you swirled your tongue over the salty mushroom head and kissed the underside. “Stop teasing, querida.” Fluttering your eyes, you tapped his dick against your pursed lips. “What do you mean?” Taking a chunk of your hair, Angel pulled back your head. “You know what I mean. Start sucking or I’ll fuck your throat until no sound can come out of that smartass mouth of yours.”

It really shouldn’t have, but that little threat turned you on more. Behind your back you grabbed opposite elbows, you were gonna make Angel lose his mind with no hands. Easily (thanks to much practice), you took all of Angel in. Bobbing your head up and down you made your man squirm underneath you. “Fuck, just like that baby.” Angel was close, you could tell by the hitch in his voice. So, you played the dangerous game and backed off, only to give him slow, long licks.

“Y/N,” he growled your name in warning. “What?” You asked innocently while unhooking your bra, letting your breasts fall out. “Keep playing this game if you want to. You won’t think it’ll be funny in a little bit.”

To appease your man, you wrapped your tits instead of your mouth around his cock, stroking him that way while occasionally licking the head. “Shit, shit, shit.” Angel abruptly pulled away from you, lifted you from the ground, threw you on the bed, and ripped your panties off. “Angel!” He shoved his sweats off and pumped his cock while he climbed into bed. “I’ll buy you another set. Fuck I’ll buy you all the sets.”

Just like in the car Angel had your ankles by your ears, but this time he actually had his dick inside of you and your orgasm was automatic. “Damn, already? Who’s making you cream like this, mami?”

“You are Daddy,” you whined, clutching onto him. “Mmhmm that’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours!” You screeched when Angel’s fingers found your clit. “And whose dick is this?”

“Mines,” you yelled as Angel kept hitting that golden spot. “Then start acting like it! Ain’t no other bitch about to take it. This all your dick.”

Pulling Angel by the back of the neck, you kissed him. “Keep fucking me just like that, Daddy. I wanna cream all over my dick.”

“Yeah?” Angel tilted your chin and nipped at your lips. “You like when I fuck you like a whore?” Angel drew back, almost pulling all the way out and then snapped his hips against yours. “Good fucking pussy. Can I cum in my pussy?” You nodded your head furiously. “Yes daddy, fill me up please.”

With a couple of more snaps of his hips Angel had both of you screaming in ecstasy. Each of your orgasms prolonging the other’s. It felt like hours before either one of you caught your breath.

“Sooooo, is it a good or bad thing that I bought some more sweats?” Angel asked, already going down on you, not waiting for an answer.

“Good, definitely gooood!” You shrieked when you felt the first lick.

Thank god for sweatpants season.

Tags: @starrynite7114 @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @sambucky8 @mygirlrenee @richonne4life @readsalot73 @chaneajoyyy @ljstraightnochaser @my-rosegold-soul @angrythingstarlight @brattyfics @lovebennycolon @langiinspirations @chibsytelford @trulysuccubus @spookys-girl @brownsugarcoffy @thesandbeneathmytoes @fvckthisbxtchup @theartisticqueen @vsfavs @ifoundmyhappythought @angelreyesgirl @marvelmaree @strawberrywritings @blessedboo @sadeyesgf @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @woahitslucyylu

#black!reader #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x black!reader #mayans m.c.#mayans mc #mayans mc fandom #mayans fanfic

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hellotherekenobi · 3 years

Text

───there’s a reason.

summary: you think you might have feelings for your master, but you can’t be sure unless you do something about it, which happens to be having a long conversation with him.

cw: padawan!reader, master kenobi. i can neither confirm nor deny whether feelings are reciprocated (or understood.)

requested by: @the-devils-littlegirl

ONESHOT. ⟶ 2,145 WORDS.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Having a close connection with your master came in handy, helping you out on more than the one occasion when you’d be on the ropes in a tight mission, but feeling close to your master was more tricky than any mission you have ever been on. It was forbidden and, quite frankly, dangerous. You couldn’t even imagine being caught out for it, or even worse being called out. Imagine that, getting fired from the Jedi because of how you feel for someone. No, it was better to not give in and to not say a word. Maybe the feeling will fade away in time? Or just maybe, you’ll start to lose your mind from keeping it all bottled up.

“So there’s this guy,” you say casually to someone you randomly met at Rex’s diner. “I really like him. He’s always there to protect me, you know? But it’s complicated.”

“What’s more complicated than having a crush on someone and not telling them?” they ask, sipping from their coffee. They looked groggy, like they had just woken up or were trying to recover from a hangover.

“Age, duty, the fact that he probably doesn’t even like me beyond our partnership.”

“Who cares about duty? I’ve always gone with my gut about these things and I’ve been just fine. Look—” they hold their hand up to show you a wedding band on their finger—“Eight years.”

“That’s a long time, good for you both.”

“Ah hell, we’ve been divorced more times than I can count, but we always find our way back to each other. It’s the love that matters.”

Suddenly you feel as if you shouldn’t be getting relationship advice from a total stranger, but before you can make a move to get off of your chair, a hand plants down on your shoulder and you don’t even have to turn around to know that it’s your master.

“I’ve got what we came here for. You ready to leave?” He asks, smiling politely at the person sitting beside you.

They suddenly look very awake, their eyes wide before they cough out, “You’re a Jedi?”

“Padawan.” You correct, almost wincing at saying it out loud.

“But I doubt you have much more training left.” Obi-Wan smiles.

When he turns his head to wave at Rex behind the counter, the person points at him and mouths, “he’s the guy?” to you, causing you to awkwardly shrug your shoulders and whisper, “yes?”

They groan, “Good luck.”

“Thank you.” Obi-Wan says, turning back into the conversation. He thinks they were speaking to him. “We should get going.”

You nod your head, slipping off of the chair and following Obi-Wan out of the diner and back to the speeder parked around the corner. As soon as you hop into the passenger’s side, Obi-Wan lets out a sigh mixed with a groan that you know all too well by now.

“I know that grumble,” you almost chuckle. “What’s wrong?”

Obi-Wan sighs as he settles himself into the driver’s seat. “The information I got wasn’t exactly the information I was hoping for. Looks like we’re headed out to a no-fly zone.”

“No,” you groan. “You don’t mean we have to do this all on foot, do you?”

“My young padawan, our missions are never easy.” he starts the engine up, passing you a small device. “This is the map. Do make sure to tell me which turn to take in advance.”

“That was one time, master.”

He chuckles, turning out into the traffic and flying as far as he can with your aid, before having to park between a thicket of bushes in what looks to be the middle of nowhere. You hop out one at a time, glancing over the area, hands on hips, eyes squinting, as you stand in a thick mist that about covers the sun, yet the brightness still breaks its way through.

By the time Obi-Wan and yourself are settled in the corner of a cave, after the wind suddenly picked up and almost blew you both off course, the sun is starting to set. You knew not a lot was going to happen on this mission in the first place—it was a study mission, or as you like to call it a lurk mission, as all you have to do is keep hidden, keep watch, and report back to the Council with your findings. You had hoped for something more comfortable, like a bed, or at least a room, but it will have to make due, especially because if you were going to be sitting in the middle of nowhere alone with anyone, you’re happy for it to be Obi-Wan.

He takes the first watch, then you take the one after him. You liked the silence, though it wasn’t really quiet with the wind. It was more so the silence of your master’s mind, as opposed to your own. When he was asleep, you didn’t have to put up a wall so high as to when he’s awake. You’ve trained under him for some years now and have learnt much, and have also used what you’ve learnt to keep Obi-Wan from the truth. Honestly, how embarrassing is it that out of all the people in the galaxy you could ever form a crush on, it was your master?

You don’t ever plan on telling him. You just hope it will pass with time. Unlike some other padawans you know, or even some Jedi (shh, don’t tell anyone), where all they want is for their crush to like them back, you just want this feeling to go away. You know it’s wrong, you know it can get you in trouble, and above all, you know the consequences if anything followed through. But, when you think of that in itself, you shudder. That’s new.

“Any updates?” Obi-Wan mutters, turning onto his back.

Thank heavens your lightsaber was not in your hand otherwise the sound of his voice would have startled you so much that you would have tried to slash him down. Your fight instincts always kick in first and more aggressively than you flight instincts.

“Oh no,” he chuckles. “I hadn’t meant to scare you.”

“Surprised,” you retort, pointing a finger at him and then twirling said finger around your padawan braid. “I was only surprised.”

He says nothing in reply, doesn’t make a sound. He simply stares at you, furrows his brows a bit, and then leans up on his elbow. “What’s the matter?”

“What do you mean? I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not. You’re twirling your braid. Something’s on your mind.”

Damn it. Sometimes you forget how well he knows you.

He sits up, hissing a little bit from the ache in his back from lying on a hard surface. “Talk to me.”

Should you actually tell him? No, of course not. Hadn’t you only just reasoned with yourself how you would never tell Obi-Wan the truth? You’re keeping your mouth shut.

“I’m just a bit confused,” why the kriff are you talking?

“That’s only normal. We’d hardly be human without questioning some things.” He’s ever the supportive master. “What are you confused about? Perhaps I can help.”

Well, you don’t exactly want him to help. Goodness, the last thing you need right now is to be stuck in the middle of nowhere after confessing your feelings and have them rejected.

“Attachment.” It’s the only word you speak, just letting it sit in the air long enough for it to sink in with your master who, once you look over at him, looks like a Bantha caught in speeder lights.

“What about it...?”

Good. He’s unsure. He doesn’t have a clue where you could be going with this and that’s exactly how you want to keep it. You want to be able to twist your words if need be, without him already being two steps ahead of you like he always is.

“I understand why we as Jedi don’t explore that, and I have no intention of furthering my interest, but... aren’t we, like you say, only human for questioning such things?”

Maker, you’ve got him in a tight spot, don’t you? You’ve seen your master face armies of troops, even Sith Lords, but nothing has made him paler in the face than what you just said. It’s almost hilarious, but you happen to have enough sense in you not to laugh at him.

“Well,” he clears his throat, sitting up. “I can’t argue with that.” Himself. He means he can't argue with himself. “How long have you thought this?”

“A fair while.”

“I see. I must commend you on your curiosity, my young padawan.”

There it is again, the shudder. This time, with Obi-Wan awake, he notices it. His furrowed brows could almost snap in half at this rate. You better let the poor man breathe.

“It’s alright. Don't worry about it, master. Staying up this late just has me in my thoughts and I got carried away. It’s nothing to worry about.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t worry if you didn’t just tell me not to. Twice.”

Alright. Can he just give you some space? How come he always knows what you’re thinking or feeling before you even know? How come he always runs ahead of you, even though you were in front literally moments before?

“You’re unbelievable.” you shake your head, lifting your knees up to wrap your arms around them.

He smiles. “Simply doing my part.”

“Would be nice if you didn’t do it so well.”

That earns a chuckle from him. It makes the air around you two just that more breathable, just that more lighter. It doesn’t feel as heavy now.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Obi-Wan speaks, leaning over to pat your leg comfortingly.

Good. You won’t tell. You won’t ever tell.

“I think I have feelings for someone.”

What happened to the original plot of the movie!?

“Feelings?” Obi-Wan asks. He wants you to say it.

“A crush.”

You know you’re screwed the second he starts playing with his beard. Did you go a little too far? Is this too much to handle, even for the renowned Jedi Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi? You’re not even anxious about what he might say, or how he might feel, you just want this to be over.

“Why do you think it’s a crush?” he finally says, yet doesn’t spare a glance in your direction.

“Why?” you ask, a bit confused. “Because... I think about them a lot, about what they’ve done for me, about who they are. I think about how safe I feel with them—how I like being by their side.”

Obi-Wan lets your answer settle in. He waits, in case you have anything further to add. Then, finally, he looks at you.

“A crush.”

Is that all he has to say? You know you didn’t exactly let all the chips fall, but you did just open up to him. A crush. Yes. You have a crush. On him. The fact that the one time you want him to be two steps ahead of you and yet he’s two steps behind is about to send you over the edge if you’re not careful, or if he’s not careful. A crush. Yes! You have a—

“Oh.”

It’s only now, after getting carried away in your head, that you realize Obi-Wan wasn’t stating a fact, he was posing a question. He asked you if you have a crush.

“Oh.”

“Oh.” Obi-Wan confirms, and you just sit there in silence.

With how long you let it sink in, completely quiet, not even moving a muscle, you could convince yourself, and maybe your master too, that you’ve turned to stone. Wasn’t that a turn of events? But even so, what a relief. You let a breath out just as Obi-Wan leans over to tap his finger against your arm. Tap, tap, tap. He’s chipping away the stone. He always knows.

You run your hands down your face, burying yourself in them for a moment and then groaning out, “Thank, maker.”

Obi-Wan begins to laugh, nudging you with his elbow that almost topples you onto your side because you weren’t ready for it. You don’t have a crush! Yes, you like Obi-Wan. Yes, you’re attached to Obi-Wan. But it’s not love you feel, it’s admiration. Being a padawan and a person who’s never felt anything outside what you’ve been taught (or, really, shielded against), it makes sense that you blurred the line between the two. What. A. Relief.

“That was a close one.” you laugh alongside your master, making him shake his head. “I can’t believe I almost thought that I had a crush on you.”

Silence. The laughter stops, the wind kicks up, and you’re about to reach for your lightsaber to run yourself through.

Obi-Wan coughs. “You never told me who it was.”

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bloody-bee-tea · 4 years

Text

Sense

Two fics in one day, from completely opposite ends of the spectrum, after weeks of nothing from me? More likely than you think.

Jiang Cheng isn’t entirely sure how he ends up at this party, but he guesses it’s Wei Wuxian’s fault, not that he can spot his brother anywhere at the party.

Jiang Cheng frowns when he remembers that he last saw him making eyes at someone who looked remarkably like a statue and Jiang Cheng sighs.

Wei Wuxian is probably all over that guy now, only to forget about him in the morning and then complain to Jiang Cheng when they guy won’t take a hint.

They have been there, done that; multiple times in fact just in the past few months and honestly Jiang Cheng is tired of Wei Wuxian flirting with everything that moves.

Jiang Cheng looks around to see if he can find anyone else he knows and can tolerate talking to at this boring party, but Nie Huaisang is probably on his best way to be drunk and that’s really all the friends Jiang Cheng has.

He’s resigned to stay on this couch until Wei Wuxian remembers him or is ready to go home and it will probably be a long stay. Wei Wuxian can party all night long if he really wants to and Jiang Cheng curses himself yet again for offering to be the designated driver this evening.

His phone only distracts him for so long, and in the end Jiang Cheng simply observes the people around him.

He spots someone who looks a lot like the guy he saw Wei Wuxian with last, but this guy at least knows how to laugh so they are probably only related and not the same. There’s another guy with him—someone huge and muscular—and even Jiang Cheng can admit that he’s gorgeous, from a purely aesthetical point of view.

Jiang Cheng watches those two for a while longer, making it a game with himself to try and figure out if they are together or not, but when a third man, a lot smaller than the other two, joins them, it gets pretty self-explanatory.

The short guy leans up and demands a kiss or four from smiley guy and tall guy good-naturedly rolls his eyes at them before he leaves them to their own devices.

Jiang Cheng curses his bad luck, because that little game was the most interesting thing he had done the whole evening and now he’s resigned to get bored to death again. He sees the tall guy make his rounds a few times as time continues, and while he seems to be friendly with a lot of people he never stays with a group for too long.

Jiang Cheng tries his best to not be a creep, so he forces himself to let his eyes wander instead of simply watching tall guy all night long, but he most definitely notices when tall guy seems to notice him. The attention comes with a small smile and Jiang Cheng has honestly been to enough clubs and parties to know what this smile and that eye contact means, and he sighs when tall guy starts to make his way over to him.

“I’m not going to sleep with you,” is what Jiang Cheng greets him with and tall guy raises a curious eyebrow at him.

“Okay,” he easily says, and Jiang Cheng has to admit that it’s already better than what he normally deals with.

Normally people are angry or try to change his mind, sometimes rather forcefully and Jiang Cheng can’t say that he cares for either, so this reaction is already a nice change of pace.

At least Jiang Cheng thinks that, right until the guy sits down next to him.

“Nie Mingjue,” he introduces himself and Jiang Cheng wasn’t raised as rude as he always likes to pretend so he nods at Nie Mingjue.

“Jiang Cheng,” he gives back and Nie Mingjue makes a little ‘ah’ sound.

“You know Huaisang, right?” he asks then and catches Jiang Cheng off guard with that.

“You’re the da-ge he can’t shut up about?” he wants to know and Nie Mingjue laughs at that.

“Yes, I am,” he confirms and Jiang Cheng takes another look at Nie Mingjue.

Now that he knows what he’s looking for he can see the resemblance between him and Nie Huaisang, but this is still not what he expected Nie Mingjue to look like.

“Nice to meet you, then,” Jiang Cheng says, mostly to have something to say and his heart goes a little bit fluttery in his chest when Nie Mingjue smiles at him and Jiang Cheng catches sight of some dimples.

“Likewise,” he gives back and Jiang Cheng thinks surely this is it, but then Nie Mingjue simply doesn’t leave.

They make small talk at first, and then delve into deeper topics and Jiang Cheng has to admit that talking to Nie Mingjue—even with the horribly loud music making it hard sometimes—is really nice.

They keep at it right until Wei Wuxian throws himself over the back of the couch, his arms circling around Jiang Cheng’s neck and screaming something into his ear.

After that it’s pure chaos, with how Wei Wuxian seems to not only have made friends with the statue from before but also with a handful of other people, and before Jiang Cheng knows it, they are already on their way back to their apartment.

He’s not even sure if he got to say goodbye to Nie Mingjue or not.

~*~*~

“My da-ge wants your number,” is what Nie Huaisang greets Jiang Cheng with the next time they see each other.

“Hello to you, too,” Jiang Cheng gives back, without looking away from his book. “How are you, Huaisang?”

“Drop the act,” Nie Huaisang complaints and throws himself into Jiang Cheng’s lap. “We both know you have never greeted anyone in your entire life.”

“I just greeted you,” Jiang Cheng mildly gives back and then bites back a smile when Nie Huaisang heaves out a sigh.

“Fine, whatever. Can we get back to the topic of my da-ge wanting your number?” Nie Huaisang wants to know and Jiang Cheng finally closes his book.

“What does he want with my number?” Jiang Cheng shoots back and Nie Huaisang blinks at him.

“I would guess he wants to stay in contact? You did meet at the party last weekend, right? He said you talked for a while.”

“And I told him I’m not interested, so I fail to see what he wants with my number.”

“Jiang Cheng, sweetheart, no offense, but not everything is about sex,” Nie Huaisang patronizingly says as he pats Jiang Cheng’s cheek.

“Get off me,” Jiang Cheng complaints and pushes Nie Huaisang’s hand away. “I know that.”

“Ah, but you sometimes fail to understand,” Nie Huaisang gives back. “I know sexual people make it seem like everything is about sex, but it’s really not. I guess he enjoyed your talk and now wants to get to know you better,” Nie Huaisang says with a shrug and finally sits down in a more appropriate manner, that doesn’t mean he’s draped all over Jiang Cheng. “Sometimes two people can just be friends, you know.”

“Fine, whatever, I guess,” Jiang Cheng mumbles but he can’t help the little excited swoop of his stomach.

It had been nice, talking to Nie Mingjue.

~*~*~

Jiang Cheng isn’t sure where he went wrong in his life to deserve this, but he falls in love with Nie Mingjue. Because of course he does.

But how could he not? Nie Mingjue is nice and caring and funny and strong, and he has opinions and is not afraid to stand behind them, but he’s also accepting and very open with his feelings.

Seriously, Jiang Cheng never stood a chance and he will forever curse his luck with love.

He doesn’t even get a few days alone to process the fact that he’s in love with one of his very few friends, because Nie Mingjue is somehow always there; either via phone or personally and Jiang Cheng really doesn’t know what to do with that.

Nie Mingjue likes to check in on him at least twice during a day—more if he knows that Jiang Cheng is being stressed or has exams coming up—and he drops by the apartment at least twice a week.

He claims it’s to make sure that Jiang Cheng is alright, that he’s eating healthy and sleeping well, but if anyone would ask Jiang Cheng, he’d say it’s to torment him, specifically.

It’s not helping his feelings in the slightest to see Nie Mingjue in their apartment or worse, their kitchen, preparing food for Jiang Cheng because he is under the impression that Jiang Cheng is not living healthily enough.

Jiang Cheng would like to kiss him for that, but also kick his ass for it.

It’s a very confusing time.

“Is Wei Wuxian with Wangji again?” Nie Mingjue asks as he settles down next to Jiang Cheng for their bi-weekly movie evening and Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes.

“Of course he is. Is he ever anywhere else?” he gives back and still can’t believe that Lan Wangji is the brother of Nie Mingjue’s best friend.

It really is a small world.

“Not lately, no,” Nie Mingjue says with a small smile and a shrug. “I’m not complaining, though, it gives us more time alone,” he then casually says and Jiang Cheng freezes.

Nie Mingjue has done that a lot lately, saying things like that, and Jiang Cheng doesn’t know how to deal with that at all.

And with how close they sit, with how their arms brush against each other, this time must be pretty obvious to Nie Mingjue as well, because he sighs before he turns to Jiang Cheng.

“When will you finally allow me to take you out on a date?” he asks him and Jiang Cheng’s stomach flips in excitement before it drops completely out.

All he can feel after that is anger, though.

“I already said I’m not going to sleep with you,” Jiang Cheng bites out and scoots away, to have a little bit more space, but Nie Mingjue shakes his head.

“I know that,” he gives back. “I was asking for a date, not sex.”

“Yeah, well, I’m never going to sleep with you, so you might as well stop trying now,” Jiang Cheng snaps and he wonders—not for the first time—when his sexuality will not be a problem for once.

“I know what being ace means,” Nie Mingjue says with a small roll of his eyes, completely taking Jiang Cheng off guard. “I know it means not today, or after our third date or on our anniversary. It means you’re not going to sleep with me when I propose, or when we finally get married, and we’re definitely never going to have sex when we adopt our first kid, because I want it to be a small one. We’ll be too exhausted to even think about that,” Nie Mingjue easily gives back and Jiang Cheng gapes at him.

“Getting a little ahead of yourself, aren’t you?” he eventually manages to say, but he can’t deny that his heart is hammering away in his chest and that he’s probably completely red in the face.

“Well, the slow approach didn’t get me anywhere,” Nie Mingjue gives back and then simply continues to stare at Jiang Cheng, clearly waiting for an answer.

“How do you know about being ace?” Jiang Cheng finally asks, because he needs a little time to process the fact that Nie Mingjue not only wants to date him, but already has their entire life planned out, it seems.

“Huaisang gave me a whole lecture,” Nie Mingjue says, clearly fondly annoyed of his little brother. “He felt the need to explain my own sexuality to me, because he thought I was in denial. And you know him; once he has found a topic he likes, he gets invested. I think the lecture took three days and there was a test at the end. Can you even believe him,” Nie Mingjue finishes with a mutter and Jiang Cheng blinks.

“How would he think you’re in denial?” Jiang Cheng asks, because he remembers very clearly that Nie Mingjue dropped hints about being gay in their very first conversation during the party, and he fails to see how someone like that could have ever been in denial.

“It was a misunderstanding, actually,” Nie Mingjue says with a shrug. “I told him once that I kissed Xichen, but that we are just friends, and the only thing he took away from that was that I must clearly be in denial.”

“But you weren’t?” Jiang Cheng wants to know and he can’t help the slightly bitter sting to his heart at the thought that Nie Mingjue used to be in love with Lan Xichen.

The guy is beautiful, inside and out; Jiang Cheng can’t even begin to compare to that.

“Gods, no,” Nie Mingjue laughs. “He is my best friend. So when he fell in love and was fretting over his lack of experience with kissing I offered that he could practice on me. It was never anything more, and as far as I heard Meng Yao was very impressed.”

“Oh,” Jiang Cheng breathes out because that makes a lot of sense, but he could also see how Nie Huaisang got the wrong impression from what Nie Mingjue told him.

“I’ve known and accepted that I’m gay since middle school. And Nie Huaisang is my brother; there wasn’t actually much he could teach me still, because he’s not the only one who tends to get obsessed with a topic.”

“So you know what being asexual means,” Jiang Cheng slowly says and Nie Mingjue nods. “So you know it’s never going to happen. I’m not demi, and I’m not going to sleep with you to make you happy or anything.”

“That’s fine. I have a working hand and internet access. I’ve managed to make due until now, so it won’t be a problem.”

Jiang Cheng narrows his eyes at Nie Mingjue because he cannot believe that it should be this easy, even though he can’t deny that he really, truly wants it to be this easy.

“What are you going to do if I say no to a date?” he wants to know.

“Then we’re going to sit at this very respectable distance and watch our movie, and I’ll never bring it up again,” Nie Mingjue instantly says and he seems honest about it, too.

“What if I say yes to a date?” Jiang Cheng wants to know next and Nie Mingjue smiles at him.

“Then I’m going to hug you for a very long time, before I tuck you in right under my arm as we watch our movie. I’m probably going to hold your hand during it, too,” Nie Mingjue says, completely shameless about it and Jiang Cheng frowns for real now.

“Why not kiss me?” he asks, because that would actually be something he wants and if he can’t get that he might jut say no out of spite.

“Because some ace people don’t like kissing. I don’t know what you like yet, so I’m going to go for a hug first,” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng flushes bright red again.

“You’re an idiot,” he hisses out, but before Nie Mingjue’s face can fall Jiang Cheng grabs the front of his shirt and pulls him close. “I’ve only wanted to kiss you and your stupid dimples since forever,” he then says, and Nie Mingjue doesn’t even have enough time to break out into a full smile before Jiang Cheng is kissing him.

“Mh, I see,” Nie Mingjue hums when they part and then he dives in for another kiss.

Not that Jiang Cheng is complaining about that.

“So a date?” Jiang Cheng breathlessly asks when they part that time, and Nie Mingjue brings his dimples out again.

Except this time, Jiang Cheng doesn’t have to hold back, so he leans in and kisses Nie Mingjue’s cheek.

“A date. A real one. Not what we’re doing here,” Nie Mingjue says with a nod and a very soft look in his eyes. “I’m going to take you out for dinner and bring you home like a real gentleman.”

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes at that, because Nie Mingjue is truly a ridiculous man, but not so secretly he’s pleased.

“I will hold you to that,” he tells Nie Mingjue and then snuggles right into Nie Mingjue’s side, because cuddles were on the table too, and Jiang Cheng is not about to miss out on that.

“Alright,” Nie Mingjue softly gives back and leans down to press a kiss to Jiang Cheng’s head.

They start the movie, and Jiang Cheng’s heart goes all fluttery again when Nie Mingjue does reach out for his hand and tangles their fingers together.

“I want a private proposal and two kids,” Jiang Cheng mutters about halfway through the movie and he doesn’t have to see Nie Mingjue to know that he’s smiling. “And only close relatives and friends for the wedding. None of that part of the century nonsense.”

“We’ll get a boy and a girl,” Nie Mingjue agrees and strokes his thumb over Jiang Cheng’s ring finger. “And I’ll go down on one knee. And Wei Wuxian and Huaisang are not allowed to hold speeches at our wedding.”

Jiang Cheng laughs softly at that, because he likes the thought of it, even though he’s pretty sure no power on earth could stop those two from holding a speech.

But it would be a small price to pay for everything else and honestly, Jiang Cheng can’t wait for it all to happen.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

#bt writes #the untamed #mdzs #mingcheng #ace!jc #modern au #getting together #fluff #first kiss

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