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moominsuki · 1 year

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✎ᝰ BAKUGOU KATSUKI ; — bakugou hates feeling jealous. but you make it worthwhile.

࿄ ! warnings — f!reader. absolutely none. sfw. / note. katsuki is a cutie patootie.

jealous bakugou is something else. he doesn’t think he’s all that possessive of you at all - he doesn’t care if your outfit is skimpy or if you have guy friends. bakugou regards himself as very secure in his relationship with you.

until he hears what guys have to say about you. then he gets a little crazy.

it’s an open day where he’s helping a group of lackies and hero interns with integrating into his agency and it’s pretty innocent at first. kiri and deku are doing most of the heavy lifting with talking with the prospective sidekicks and heroes (katsuki is very content with the extras he has already). he’s already kind of distracted by seeing you this morning - you offered to lift a hand and do some extra work around his agency for today due to the unusual amount of people scoping his place out and why would he pass on an offer to see you around his agency all day?

unfortunately for katsuki, it means that he’s being increasingly more distant than he usually is and the interns can feel the disgusted energy emitting from every fibre in his body. it’s not like he’s trying to hide it though - what a waste to have you come to his workplace and only catch glimpses of your hair and your scent.

“kacch- dynamight? what do you look for in a sidekick who wants to potentially join this agency,” asks izuku, pulling his friend out of his thoughts. katsuki looks at the crowd of young, probably high school kids and they basically cower under his gaze. he recognises a few of them from other, unimportant events he can’t seem to specifically recall. god, he wants to bite back at them but he shrugs in annoyance.

“don’t piss me off and do as you’re told. simple as but it seems like you lot would still f-”, deku quickly interjects katsuki and yells out, “okay! let’s take a quick 10 minute break! just have a look around and we’re free if you have any questions you want to ask!”

ᝰᝰᝰᝰᝰ

“what is with you today, kacchan? you’re more… insolent than usual,” asks izuku slowly, watching the expression on his blond’s face meld into a face of indifference.

“maybe it’s the fact that i don’t care about these idiots who’re just making a goddamn mess of the place. i don’t need more extras to fuck shit up f’me,” bakugou grumbles. kirishima pats his moody friends on the back and goes to speak when-

“well at least the rumours about dynamight are true. that guy is a fucking mood killer,” says some guy standing in the corner of the reception area, who looks to be a sidekick and is accompanied by other unknown up and coming ‘extras’ as Katsuki woukd put it.

“tell me about it. the guys here fucking suck. for once, i’m wishing that we were stuck with the female pros instead. have you seen uravity? she’s sexier in real life,” pipes up some other guy and the rest holler and hoot.

the three pros look at each other, with bakugou looking at kirishima and deku with knowing, smug eyes.

“i’m just going to interrupt their conversation-” says kirishima, attempting to walk over until another lackey pipes up.

“but have you seen y/h/n? what a woman. shame she’s not in her hero suit. what i would do for a woman like that,” grunts some pathetic looking guy. he’s spindly and limp and looks akin to a wet noodle.

it doesn’t stop katsuki from seething though.

kirishima and izuku slowly turn to look at their friend - who’s practically steaming in his hero uniform. all katsuki can see is red and violence - which isn’t really unlike from what he normally sees but it’s different this time. this time it’s about you.

he sees the group of gross, teenage boys point to where you’re standing: you’re leaning over the receptionist desk and just from the behind can katsuki appreciate how beautiful you are. you’re wearing a short black turtleneck dress with orange accents (you told him that you wanted to wear his colours to his agency) and in any other setting would katsuki run his hands over you and compliment and kiss you till you were shying away from him.

bakugou knew that you got unwanted attention, regardless if he was standing by you like a rabid guard dog - you were gorgeous and you knew that. he also knew that you could hold your own against a hoard of horny teenage losers and you would never look twice at them when you had him. still, that logic went out the window when he could see the same group of kids leering and pointing at where your thighs met the bottom of your dress and he wanted to kill them.

kirishima got wind of this just by looking at the blond’s expression, “please don’t blow up the place - they’re just dumb kids! think about how hard we worked for this agency,” pleads kirishima.

“he’s too far gone,” izuku sadly laments as they watch bakugou stride on over to you and ignore both the men’s pleas and bargains. he aggressively pushes past the disgusting collective of eyes and they break apart in shock at his intrusion through them.

you’re, however, too enamoured in your conversation with his assistant and mina- you’re looking at a pinterest board and he wants to bite you for being so cute in front of everyone. it makes him even angrier that those extras would ever think that you would give them more than a side eye and a polite wave.

you feel katsuki before you see him - his uniform-clad arm holds your waist between the desk as he slots himself into your conversation.

“so what’s this about? whatcha talking about?” katsuki asks and mina and his assistant giggle at his intrusion while you roll your eyes and turn yourself sideways to look at him.

“i would tell you but mina and akako might kill me,” you tell your boyfriend, resting a manicured hand on his chest. akako, bakugou’s assistant, laughs and nods her head:

“sorry, dynamight, our conversations are sacred. might i add your timetable tells me that you’re due to take the interns on a practice patrol in less than… 20 minutes?”

katsuki narrows his eyes at this and you chastise akako for poking at him, “leave him alone! i want him here,” before resting a hand on his stubbled jaw and scratching at his face. katsuki’s eyes close at the sensation and he opens them to take a good look at your face. the stupid kids are still a embittering thought in the back of his mind and in any given situation, he would never do this. but sometimes bakugou’s heart goes against his common sense and this was one of those times.

he leans down to slots his lips over yours and presses a gloved hand into the small of your back and you smile into the kiss while a few “awwhs,” emit in the background. bakugou opens an eye slightly to see in his peripheral vision that the gaggle of the limp-faced sidekicks are looking at him in a mixture of shock and fear and embarrassment. he also sees kirishima and izuku grab them up to guide them out of the room.

when you break from the kiss to brush at the hair on the nape of his head, he mumbles, “have i told you how much i love that dress on you?”

you giggle a little and lean up to kiss the corner of his mouth, “a few times. but you can keep telling me if you want. ‘s not like i’ll get tired of hearing it,” you whisper to him and it’s like you’re the only people in the room. he’ll tell you about what spurned this on another day. in the meanwhile, he bask in your attention until he has to go and entertain those useless jerks. it’s not like he’s going to employ any of them.

bakugou would say this is a mission accomplished in his book. yeah, he’s a little jealous and possessive. but with the way you look at him, he finds himself caring less and less about what others have to say about you.

doesn’t mean he won’t try knock them in the side of their head if the time calls for it.

#katsuki is so cute when he’s jealous i love him #bakugo x reader #not proofread at all mb y’all #bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki fluff #bakugou x reader #i like writing now if you guys couldn’t tell #bakugou katsuki #༝˚૮ .♡ katsuki.#✎𓂃stamped: (my hero academia)。°˖⌕

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azzibuckets · 11 days

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This is sort of a long and specific request but I just have this idea of an ansty fic idea for pazzi or reader.

azzi gets her wisdom teeth out and she’s like all loopy and when paige takes her home, they are all cuddled up. Azzi talks about the love of her life in third person and paige doesn’t realize it’s her until she does… but basically she’s like heartbroken until then.

loopy in love [pazzi]

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

a/n: i know i said i was taking a break from pazzi fics but god bless anon for giving me the best prompt i’ve ever read

word count: 1.5k

masterlist

“Make sure she takes acetaminophen or ibuprofen if she feels any pain,” the nurse instructed. “She can also sleep with an extra pillow tonight to support her neck and help circulate blood flow.”

“Alright, thank you. I’ll keep all that in mind,” Paige said gratefully. She looked over at Azzi, who was slumped in the chair. Her eyes were dazed and her cheeks swollen with numbing from anesthesia, but Paige’s heart warmed. Azzi had never looked cuter, she thought.

“I understand you guys are basketball players?” The nurse looked up from her clipboard of sheets with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah. How long is she out for?”

“No strenuous activities for at least three days, and definitely no cardio for five. We don’t want any rebound swelling or bleeding,” the nurse explained. “Other than that, you just need to sign her release form, and then you guys are good to go.”

Paige nodded, accepting the paper the nurse handed her and starting to work her way down the page. The nurse walked over to Azzi. “Make sure to keep biting on the gauze, okay hon? Your girlfriend can help you replace it with a fresh one every 20 minutes.”

Paige’s head snapped up from reading the fine print. “Oh, uh, we’re not dating.”

The nurse looked taken aback. “Oh! I’m so sorry! I just assumed…” she stared uncomfortably between the two of them. Paige flushed, knowing that the way they’d entered the office a few hours earlier hadn’t exactly looked very friendly. Paige’s hands had been wrapped around Azzi’s waist as she’d whispered reassurances in her ear.

“No, it’s okay.” Paige scratched the back of neck. “We kinda get that a lot.”

The nurse nodded awkwardly before hurriedly making an excuse to leave the room. Azzi wrinkled her nose, eyes following her out. “Did she think I had a girlfriend?” she slurred.

“She thought we were dating,” Paige breathed out a laugh as she signed the form.

“Ew!” Azzi gagged on her saliva. “I’m sorry, but we could never be together.”

“Geez,” Paige muttered, trying not to let the younger girl’s words sting too much. “I didn’t think I was that that revolting.” Paige turned the form into the receptionist before helping Azzi out of her chair. “Up we go,” she said softly. Azzi stumbled, but tightened her grip on the blonde’s arm to keep steady.

In the car, Azzi stared moodily out the window. Paige chuckled; she’d expected for the anesthesia to make Azzi more quiet and subdued, even though a part of her had wanted a loopy and crazy Azzi to laugh at. “You okay?” she asked.

Azzi started sniffling, and that’s when big tears started rolling down her cheeks.

“Woah.” Paige almost braked the car. “Hey, Az, what’s up?”

“I miss her!” Azzi cried out, folding her arms like a grumpy toddler. “Everything hurts and I can’t feel my tongue and there’s blood and I just want her.”

Paige’s heart sunk. She knew she should be supporting Azzi right now, who was so out of it from the drugs, but she couldn’t help but welcome back the burn of jealousy she’d gotten so familiar with the past few years. Pining over your best friend in secret was not an easy thing, but it was something Paige had become awfully good at.

“Miss who, babe?” Paige asked gently. “I can call whoever you need.”

Azzi dramatically threw her head in her hands. “Nooooo!” she wailed. “You can’t. Or else she’ll know.”

Paige bit her lip. “Know what?”

“That I’m in love with her!”

Paige sucked in a breath. Lately Azzi had been acting distant, coming back to their apartment late at night and making excuses for missing their movie nights. Paige had had a creeping suspicion that Azzi was talking to someone new, had been spending her hours with a new girl or guy she’d met. She’d tried to respect it - she knew Azzi would come to her and tell her if the relationship ever evolved into something serious. She always did. And now here Azzi was, confessing in her stupefied state.

“You’re in love with someone?”

Azzi leaned her head gloomily against the window. “You don’t understand, Paige.”

Paige hesitated. “I understand. I’ve been in love before.”

“No,” Azzi insisted. “You don’t. You don’t understand.”

Paige laid her hand over Azzi’s in an attempt to pacify her. “It’s okay, Az,” she soothed. “We don’t have to talk about this right now. Let’s just get you home first, yeah?”

Azzi snatched her hand away. “Of course you don’t wanna talk about it,” she grumbled, shifting in her seat to move further from Paige.

Once they reached their apartment, Azzi seemed to be in a slightly better mood. “I’m hungry!” she exclaimed as soon as the door closed behind them, immediately making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Uh uh,” Paige denied, running so she could stand between Azzi and the cabinets. “You’re not allowed to eat anything for a few hours.”

Azzi pouted, her bottom lip sticking out. “Pleaseeeeeee?” she whined.

Paige stifled a laugh at how adorable the younger girl was being. “I’m sorry, but no,” she said firmly.

“Ugh!” Azzi aggressively brushed past Paige, knocking her shoulder as she stormed out of the kitchen. “You hate me.”

“Quite the opposite.” Paige followed Azzi as she flopped angrily down on the armchair. “Stay here, alright? Imma go get some pillows and blankets for you and we can watch a movie?”

Azzi didn’t respond, staring grumpily at the dark TV. Paige rushed to gather the softest and biggest blankets she could find. She cursed at herself for not setting up the couch earlier. Now Azzi had to sit there waiting for her. Once she got everything, she threw it on the couch and tried to make it the most comfortable, padded blanket and pillow ridden couch in the history of all couches. “Come on Azzi,” she encouraged in a sing song voice. “Sit on the couch. It’s super comfy.” She patted the couch.

“Will she be there?” Azzi asked hopefully.

“Be where?” Paige’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“On the couch. With me.”

The blonde rolled her eyes, trying to hold in her exasperation but failing mightily. “Are you talking about that girl again?”

“Yes,” Azzi breathed out dreamily. “I think she’s it. She’s the one for me. I can’t stop thinking about her. Even before the surgery she was the last thing on my mind.”

Azzi sounded way too detailed right now to be talking randomly from being hopped up on drugs, which finally confirmed Paige’s suspicions. There had to be an actual girl that Azzi was talking about. She made a note to ask about it later, when the anesthesia wore off. Azzi had never spoken about anyone like this before, so this girl must be a big deal. A hot shot, Paige thought moodily to herself. But she’d support Azzi, like she always did whenever she started something new with someone. Don’t let her know, Paige reminded herself.

“So? Did you call her?” When Paige didn’t respond, too lost in her thoughts, Azzi’s bottom lip started to tremble. “You said you would!” Paige rushed to her, rubbing her back in the way she knew the dark haired girl liked.

“I don’t have her number, Az,” she said gently. “I’m sure we can get her to come over later, though.”

“She’s so pretty and she’s so kind,” Azzi said, now sobbing again. “I just want her here. Everything is always better when I’m with her.” She leaned into Paige’s embrace.

“Come on, Az, let’s sit on the couch, alright? Let’s put on a movie and you can try to sleep the anesthesia off,” Paige prodded. At last, Azzi got up from the armchair and sat reluctantly on the couch. Paige grabbed a blanket and wrapped it tightly around the younger girl. She made sure to stuff extra pillows under Azzi’s neck. “Comfy?”

Azzi nodded. Her tears weren’t flowing as heavily anymore, which Paige took as a good sign. “What do you wanna watch?”

Azzi perked up. “Cinderella.”

“Cinderella? When did you get into Disney?” Paige laughed, but she put it on.

Azzi nestled into Paige’s chest. “Cinderella looks like her,” she sighed happily. “Which is why I like it.”

Paige’s heart started beating rapidly. “What does she look like?” she asked slowly.

“She’s blonde. Has the bluest eyes ever,” Azzi murmured. “And she’s sooo good at basketball. You would love her.”

Paige bit the inside of her cheek. Was this really happening? There was no way this girl Azzi was speaking of was her. She felt excitement rush through her, but she tried to tamp it down. She wasn’t the only blonde, blue-eyed basketball player in the world. Feeling slightly guilty that she was interrogating her best friend in this state, she asked, “What’s her name, Azzi?”

Azzi inserted her leg between Paige’s so that their bodies were now intertwined. “Why does it matter?” she muttered, her words muffled by Paige’s shirt.

Paige softly traced the parts in Azzi’s hair with her finger. “I’m just curious, babe.”

Azzi yawned, sleepiness taking over her. “I can tell you later. If you want. Maybe.”

“Oh, we are so talking about this later,” Paige said under her breath. But for now, she continued playing with Azzi’s hair as Cinderella played in the background, lulling the girl to sleep.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #uconnwbb #pazzi #wbb #wcbb #friends to lovers

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byunbqbes · 1 year

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HQ BOYS MEETING A BEAUTIFUL FAN PT 2

⟶ ft. sakusa, atsumu, akaashi

‎♡ sakusa

"are you sakusa?" a small voice behind him peeps up.

sakusa turns around, a scowl on his face, ready to lecture whoever just disrupted his pre-game ritual because if there's one thing that sakusa hates – it's talking to others before a game.

and oh boy was he about to make an exception right now.

he blinks at you, drinking in the way a cute smile was plastered to your face and all he can think of is, are you real? how can someone this pretty exist?

he snaps out of his speechless stupor and hums, "that's me."

you let out a sigh of relief, handing him a pack of masks, "i found this outside the locker room, and thought maybe it'd be yours."

"how do you know it's mine?" sakusa asks curiously, raising a brow.

"oh! uhm! i may or may not be a fan...so i kind of know you wear masks a lot!"

oh god. not only were you pretty, but you were also a fan! his fan.

he flushes from his cheek down his neck, and gives a little nod, "oh. nice. do you want a signature or somet –"

before sakusa can finish his sentence, hinata pokes his head into the room, clueless, "sakusa! our match is starting soon! oh, hey, sakusa's friend!"

sakusa wants to roll his eyes at hinata, but he just mutters, voice velvety, "i guess the signature will have to wait till later. meet me here after the match if you still want it."

♡ atsumu

"how could ya forget?" atsumu yelps, thrashing his arms around dramatically as osamu stares back at his blonde twin blankly.

"forget what?"

"forget to tell me that she's pretty??" atsumu whisper-shouts, gesturing towards you – osamu's new employee. atsumu expected your presence at the game, but he did not expect you to turn up looking like this – in a short skirt, soft legs out on display.

"who's pretty?"

atsumu turns around and stares at you, horrified, wondering how much of the conversation you had overheard. atsumu blinks and immediately starts stuttering, "uh. t-the receptionist at the hotel?"

"oh? do you have a picture?" you tilt your head, and atsumu swears he's about to die from your cuteness.

"tsumu thinks he is pretty." osamu shrugs nonchalantly, "what a weirdo."

at that, you just chuckle and lean in to inspect his face carefully. atsumu feels his breath hitch in his throat and swears his heart is about to leap out of his chest, when you lean back and nod in agreement, "yeah, atsumu is pretty!"

feeling a sudden surge of confidence in his chest, atsumu reminds himself, atsumu...what the fuck was that? you're the cool sexy male of msby! that the best ya can do?

a smirk inches its way to atsumu's face and he looks you dead in the eye.

"really? that's weird...because i find you really pretty too."

osamu rolls his eyes.

‎♡ akaashi

the truth is, akaashi has noticed you for a while now. because how could he not, when you look so pretty on the bleachers, hair tied up in cute pigtails and cheering for bokuto?

bokuto. akaashi never wants to admit he is jealous of bokuto but...he really is.

one day, fukurodani wins by a landslide and bokuto is on a crazy adrenaline high. he drags you towards akaashi and yells loudly, "HEY! akaashi stop being such a wimp and ask her out already!! i know like...five? guys who want to ask her out but i'm saving her for youuuu!"

silence hangs in the air as akaashi stares at you, feeling his face heat up. bokuto glances at you both, before his eyes widen in realisation, "oh no! am i not supposed to say that?"

the whole fukurodani squad gathers around and starts gushing dramatically. washio yells, "c'mon akaashi kohai! you've been simping over her for years!"

konoha akinori slings a lazy arm around you, deciding to push akaashi's buttons, "akaashi, if you don't want her, i'm gonna start chasing her!"

akaashi's eyes widens and before he could even think clearly, he's grabbing your hand and walking away from his embarrassing team. konoha and you? no way in hell!

before akaashi can open his mouth to deny anything, you're winking at him cutely, "i think you're cute too, akaashi."

akaashi swallows nervously, thanking whatever higher power there is up there for gracing him with his dream girl, before he smiles shyly, "wanna go out together?"

you can bet you're yelling akaashi's name in all of their upcoming matches.

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blair3writ3s · 2 months

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And I Can’t Help Myself | Kyle Scheible

Kyle Scheible x F!reader, smut

You and Kyle end up stuck in the same hotel room after a concert, and he tries his best to stay as far away from you as possible. Spoiler, he ends up knuckles deep inside you.

Warnings: confused to lovers. The CLASSIC one bed trope. Cussing, inexperienced reader. Reader calls people “babe” platonically. Kyle speaks French because Timothée does and it’s the hottest thing ever so!! The French is in italics :}

OOC but I don’t care

MDNI

Your extremely rusty, ancient car rumbled down the highway. The steering wheel trembled slightly beneath your hands. Honda Civics, seating exactly five, had almost enough room to fit the band. Almost. You had to make Kyle sit in the trunk.

Luckily, your car was a hatchback, and police officers didn’t have much interest in pulling over a rag-tag car full of high schoolers; blasting Seven Nation Army.

Olive, sitting next to you, shouted the lyrics of the song. Her blonde hair was all mused up from the wind, but it still looked marvelous.

Tony, Miles, and Jake, in the backseat, sang along. Their yelling was completed with air guitar motions and air drumming. With the windows rolled down, it was a madhouse.

Between the loudness of your band; and hair flying everywhere, it was almost enough to take your mind off the show tonight.

Almost.

The car rumbled along, nearing the shabby hotel Olive had booked for us. It was the closest hotel to our venue, and the cheapest too.

Turning down the radio and rolling up the windows, you shouted, your voice laced with excitement, “Guys! We’re almost here. Get your stuff together.”

Olive grinned, exclaiming, “Between your horrible driving and Ky in the back,” Kyle held up his middle finger from the trunk, face blank.

“I thought for sure at least one of us wouldn’t make it.” She laughed, her laughter a bird-like chirping. You swatted at her leather-clad arm playfully, scoffing at her antics.

Glancing in your mirrors, pulling into the parking spot, you locked eyes with Kyle. He had his book in one hand, bass on his lap. Nausea was plastered on his face, likely from the boat-like qualities of the car.

You snickered under your breath.

Kyle, face pale and hands sweaty, slammed the trunk shut with a finality that mirrored the nausea etched on his face. Eyeliner was smudged around his eyes, and his eyebrows furrowed into a frown, a sight that would have sent shivers down the spine of any other girl back at home.

Unfortunately, you weren’t too different from them.

“Remind me,” Kyle grumbled, “To never let you drive anywhere ever again.” He said to you, a sarcastic lilt in his voice.

You turned around to face him, slamming your door shut. “Remind me,” I mocked, “Which one of us has an actual drivers license?” You walked over to him, picking your guitar up off the ground, along with your backpack full of essentials.

He cocked an eyebrow at you, shifting his weight from one foot to the next.

You turned towards the back windshield of the car, hip bumping the side of his upper thigh. Combing your hands through your layered hair, and adjusting your tank top, you made eye contact with him in the mirror.

“At least I can drive, babe.” You commented, ignoring the prickle of fondness that ran down your spine.

“Sure, chérie,” Kyle said, lowering his voice to match the slight grin playing on his lips.

He promptly turned away, ruffling your hair before he walked towards the hotel, following your band mates inside. Your eyes, despite your best judgement, followed his figure. He was stupidly hot, a kind of hotness that a guy like him shouldn’t get to have.

Not that you would ever, not in a million years, tell him that.

“ONE ROOM?? I BOOKED THREE!” Olive screeched, an angry redness was creeping up her neck. She glared at the receptionist, “How do you expect 6 people to cram into one room!?”

The receptionist looked blankly at her, glancing at the lot of us. “I don’t know. But I can assure you that your file only has one room under it.” She clicked her tongue “you’ll have to make do.”

Olive clenched her jaw, eye twitching. “LISTEN HERE YOU-“ She raised her voice further, leaning inwards towards the older woman.

“Oli, babe,” You interjected swiftly, grabbing her arm. “Why don’t you go.. take a walk?” Olive’s jaw clenched, shoulders tense as she stomped out of the hotel. She slammed the glass door shut so hard you thought it would shatter. Luckily, it did not.

Pushing through your band mates to the front desk, you smiled in a friendly manner to the clerk. She did not not return your smile.

“Is there any way to book an additional 2 rooms now? We can pay.” You said, putting on your costumer service voice, that you use at your management job.

“Nope.” She said, voice as monotone as ever. “I’m afraid we only have one other free room, and it only has one double bed.” She flicked her eyes back across the group of us, “As opposed to the two separate beds your other room has.” She finished, glancing down to the computer, clicking away.

“We’ll take it! Anything’s better than one room.” Miles quickly interjected, glancing at you pleadingly.

“It’ll cost $100 for one nights stay, and because you’re just getting it now…$50 extra.” The clerk stated, glancing back up at you.

You turned towards Jake, the manager of the band. He swept his dark hair to the side, swiftly giving you the cash for the room.

You passed the money to the woman, and quickly guided the band up to the rooms.

“Ok, boys…and Olive,” You said, putting your hands on your maxi-skirt-clad hips. “Oli and I are going to take the room with the single bed, and you guys are going to have to figure out the other room.” You tossed Tony the keys, turning towards the room directly across the hall.

“Really?” Kyle challenged, grabbing your arm before you entered your room. “What are we, children? Why do all four of us have to get packed into that room,” he said, gesturing the boys standing around him, as well as the door to their room “while you and Olive get plenty of space?” He stated, walking towards the other end of the hallway, and towards the other room.

“I vote we split three for three. It’s much more fair.” Kyle declared, crossing his arms. “What do you think, little Miss Guitarist? ” he really knew how to push your buttons, even when you were both feuding over something as fickle as rooming arrangements.

“I dunno, Mister Bassist, maybe I don’t want to share a room with your annoying ass!” You whisper-shouted, pulling Oli inside of the room and slamming the door behind you.

Kyle, from outside your door, yelled “Va te faire foutre, putain de con!”, banged on your door once, then gave up, going into his designated room.

“And I thought I had a flare for the dramatic,” Olive teased, setting her outfit for the night out on the bed. “You and Kyle are on a completely different planet. Especially with him yelling his French” She chirped, laughing at the situation.

“I can’t believe I actually won that fight,” You said lightheartedly. “I thought for sure he was going to kick down the door.” I rolled my eyes, turning towards her.

“I know, right? I mean, he still hasn’t given up with the whole dating thing..” Olive said, nudging you playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.” You sighed, setting your bag on the bed. “He’s a player. I’d rather die than give in to that nightmare” You joked, turning back towards her.

Olive sighed, grabbing your hand softly. “I really don’t think he wants to hurt you-“

You swiftly interrupted her “-I’m going to take a quick shower before I start getting ready, ok, babe? I want to look perfect for tonight.”

“Sure,” she sighed, flashing you the classic; ‘I-don’t-agree-but-I’ll-go-along-with-it’, best friend look.

Your clothes clung to you uncomfortably, the grime of the day begging to be washed away. Quickly stripping, you set out a towel for yourself and a hair mask. You took your time in the shower, scrubbing, exfoliating, shaving, moisturizing. You were determined to be ready for tonight, who knew how it would go.

The time flew so quick, it surprised you to hear a rhythmic knock on the door, disrupting your trance.

“What’s up?” You called, scrubbing the last of the hair mask out of your hair.

“I’m going to head over to the other room to practice with the boys,” Olive called through the door. “I want to go over vocals one more time with Miles. And I think Tony wants to assemble some of his drum equipment,”

“Ok! I’ll see you in 30.” You called back, excitement flowing through your veins for the approaching show.

You finished the shower, drying off and blow drying your hair. Tonight, you decided, you were going to go all out. Full glam, you suppose.

The room door clicked open, implying Olive’s departure. You heard some mumbling, but it wasn’t outside the ordinary to hear Olive talking to herself. The door promptly clicked shut.

Thinking nothing of it, you finished your makeup and hair, leaving the bathroom in only your bra and underwear from the day to find your outfit for the night.

The bathroom door clicked shut, and you whirled around, startled to find Kyle; sitting on your bed. A small laugh escaped your lips as you saw his flustered expression. His cheeks were flushed a deep crimson, and his hazel eyes stared into yours blankly.

He mumbled “Putain de chaud”, eyes darting away from yours. The bass that he had previously been strumming was left limp in his lap.

“What gibberish are you grumbling now?” You complained, Turing your back on him. Quickly slipping on a stray sweatshirt Olive had left out, you covered your torso and upper thighs from view. “What are you doing in here anyway?” You inquired crudely, digging through your bag for your clothes.

“Merde, I was just looking for my bass, and found it in here near your guitar.” He said, glancing away from your perturbed expression. “And it was really loud in the other room so I wanted to stay in here, ma femme parfaite.” He trailed off, not making eye contact while saying the last part.

“You can’t just switch into French and assume I understand,” You ridiculed him, pulling your tights on. “For all I know, you just called me a “cunt-bitch -whore” I teased, a playful smile pulling at my lips.

“The world may never know,” he said, lying back on the bed, slight smirk playing on his lips. His hair fell across his forehead, eyes closing, strumming his bass absentmindedly. And for a second, you wanted to kiss him.

The band unloaded out your car, hauling the musical equipment towards the entrance of the venue. Pushing through the door, you followed closely behind Olive, trying not to bump your band mates with the case of your guitar. The venue was still completely empty, to your relief. It was big, clearly a party scene. There was a slight haze in the air, from what, you don’t know.

Jake, being the manager, walked across the venue, beginning to set up the -sparse- merch he had designed for the band. It was a typical black band tee, but with the name of your band, “L'Enfance Nue”, sprawled across the upper half.

The rest of us decidedly walked over towards the stage, hauling the equipment behind you.

You hopped up onto the stage, placing your guitar and amp cord close to the center, but a little to stage left. Olive was already in the center with Miles, attempting to plug in their microphones to the questionable-looking amp.

Kyle stood to your stage left, also puzzling over the amp and his bass.

“Fuck this. My plug doesn’t fit,” He grumbled, standing up from his crouched position. Turning towards you, he demanded “Did you switch our cords, belle?”

You rolled your eyes at his antics, flipping your hair over your shoulder. Approaching the amp, you grabbed Kyle’s bass right out of his hands. You briefly glanced over it, noticing the black sheen and the shallow scratches throughout the face of the instrument.

You glanced up at him briefly; making, then quickly breaking, eye contact. His brunette hair had fallen into his eyes, mouth slightly agape, creating an aloof look.

You knew better.

“Oh,” you laughed, pulling the plug out of the socket on his bass. “You had the cord twisted. This side,” you clicked it into the amp, “goes here, and this” you finished the circuit, fully plugging in the instrument, “goes into here! Dumbass.” You laughed, strumming a B7 chord on the bass.

“Give that back, belle!” He demanded, grabbing your hand, which was now attempting a bass line that he plays during one of the songs.

“You can’t even play..” he trailed off, staring at your ring-clad hand. His hazel eyes drifted back up to yours, stopping briefly on your parted lips. An annoying smirk tugged on the corners of him mouth.

The position you two were in hit you like a bus. Your bodies were nearly touching, with his hand grasping yours, and his bass hanging from a strap around your shoulders. To an outsider looking in, you were about to kiss.

Yeah right.

You punched his shoulder with your opposite hand, backing away from him. Kyle scoffed, putting his hands up in surrender. Passing him his bass, you padded over to your own cord and instrument, plugging it in and tuning.

Your fingers played with the knobs on the guitar, adjusting it to perfection. You could feel Kyle’s insidious gaze on your profile, but you decidedly avoided eye contact. An embarrassed redness creeped up your neck, the tension of the room was becoming unbearable.

The lights in the venue began to dim, and the stage lights lit up. The ambiance of the room shifted, stirring your nerves. This was really happening, your first show.

The night went by in a haze, but the only thing you could really focus on was Kyle. He was in “the zone”, so to speak.

His hair was in his eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. A light sheen coated his forehead, dark eyeliner smudged around his eyes. He was strumming his bass with quick, ring-clad fingers, body swaying slightly to the beat.

And, despite his fuck-boyness, he looked angelic.

Kyle, finishing his bass line, glanced up at you, smirking. You smiled back, completing your solo at the end of the song.

The crowd cheered, a sound that was simply music to your ears. They loved you, loved the band. You basked in the glow of their cheers, hugging Olive from the side.

Kyle sneaked up behind the both of you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. He was smiling the brightest you’ve ever seen him smile, laughter was pouring from his lips like song.

Olive glanced at you mischievously, a small smirk pulling at her cherry lips.

“Y’all wanna hear some punk-ass French?!” She yelled into the microphone, laughing as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You both pushed Kyle forward, giggling as his face turned a bright crimson.

“Um, hey guys,” He said into the mic. There was a few whoops from the crowd, egging him on. “Nous sommes “L’Enfance nue”!” He said, laughing under his breath. “Nous sommes plutôt cool, alors... ouais. Passe une bonne nuit!” The crowd erupted into cheers and clapping.

You never wanted the night to end.

But, like all things, it did.

And now you wanted nothing more than to shower and relax, in your bed, alone.

Alas, Olive decided tonight, of all nights, was the night to make a move on Miles. And so, Olive sat on his lap in the backseat of your car, loudly making out with him.

And when you arrived at the hotel, they had wordlessly claimed the room with the two beds, locking the door swiftly behind them.

“Guys!! Really? Come ON!” You yelled, banging on the door. Turning to the group, you sighed, crossing your arms. “What are we going to do?” You groaned, leaning against the wall.

“Well.. I guess I can find another hotel..” Jake said, scratching the back of his head bashfully.

“I’ll go with him!” Tony quickly agreed, following Jake out of the hotel. You turned to Kyle, sighing reluctantly.

“Alright" you declared, marching towards the door. "Let's get this over with." Kyle followed, his movements mirroring yours. The small walk down the cramped hallway was filled with a tension.

Neither of you dared to speak. Reaching the door, you fumbled for the key, your irritation evident in your clumsiness. Finally, with a click, the door swung open, revealing a room that was thoroughly unappealing.

The bed loomed before you, a battleground for an uncomfortable night's sleep. With a sigh, you began building a formidable fortress of pillows in the center of the bed. Kyle rolled his eyes at the sight, scoffing at you.

“We’re not children, belle,” Kyle stated, starting to dismantle your fortress.

“‘You could’ve fooled me, Ky,” you said, giving up on the pillows. Grabbing your bag, you walked swiftly into the bathroom, hoping to change into something more comfortable.

There was a certain absurdity to the situation, being forced to share a room with someone who you refused to love.

And unfortunately, your resolve you crumbling.

You sat at the small vanity, brushing your hair out. You saw Kyle approaching you out in the reflection, but you refused to make direct eye contact.

You knew what was about to happen.

He touched your shoulder lightly, rubbing circles on the exposed skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he told you, his voice still soft. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

“Thank you.” Your voice is soft, too, but it is also nervous, almost fearful.

He knelt down. “Belle, look at me.”

You bit your lip. You didn’t want to look at him. In fact, you were quite sure everyone would be infinitely better off if you never laid eyes on him again, bandmate or no.

You did, though, turning around on the chair hesitantly. He took your hands in his, smiling at you in such a way that your heart fluttered.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” He whispered, clutching your hands. “Your heart is safe with me,” he finished, blushing lightly.

“But I know you,” you told him softly with a slight shake of your head, “And I can’t do this.”

He tensed, his hands tightening around yours. “Why not?”

You shook your head again.

You couldn’t tell him why you refused to allow him to have you, despite him trying so many times in the past. You knew how he felt about you.

But you know how he is, what he does.

“I love you, belle,” he whispered fiercely. “I’ve loved you for months. I want you. I need you.”

“You don’t,” you insisted, yanking your hands away and standing up, backing away from him.

He stepped forward. You turned around, adjusting a table decoration to distract yourself from him.

Then, footsteps.

Hands on your hips.

Being pulled gently backwards.

The firm lines of a male body pressed against you.

The heat emanating from him, seeping through your clothes and into your skin.

“I do,” he said quietly, pulling your hair to one side and leaning down to press kisses into the skin of your neck.

You tried desperately not to whimper.

Logical or not, you wanted him to touch you, and had for a long time.

Kyle’s grip on your hips tightened. “I want you,” he said again. “I need to be yours” Another kiss to your neck. “Please, belle. Please don’t turn ms down. I’ll be good to you, I promise,” he swore. “The best you’ve ever had.” Another kiss, this one open-mouthed.

“I want to fill you,” he murmured. “With me at first, again and again until you’re screaming for it, screaming for me .” He slid his hands up and down your sides, lingering on your hips. “Then I want to fill you with my children.” Another kiss. “And then me again. I’ve been with a lot of women, and I know… I know I’ll never tire of you, never get enough of you.”

You knew he’d been with a great many women, but hearing him say it was like an ice shard in your chest anyway.

“How many?” You whispered, your voice sharp.

“You mean, uh…” he trailed off, embarrassed.

“How many women?”

He didn’t speak for several seconds.

“About seven.”

Another ice shard.

“I see.”

“Does it bother you?” he questioned.

You didn’t say anything at first, but then, “You know it does,”

“But I love you,” Kyle pointed out, winding his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. “I have for so long” You almost scoffed. Then, after a moment, he murmured, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” you said primly.

His hands tightened on your hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of your shorts.

“I like that you’re jealous,” he told you, nuzzling your neck.

“I’m not,” you snapped.

Kyle chuckled softly, then sighed and said, “I won’t force you.” He stepped away from you. “But I… I need you to know,” he went on, “that I care for you a great deal. I’ll make it special for you. I’ll make it good for you,” he promised. “I can make you beg for me. I can make you burn for me as I burn for you.”

You turned towards him, bracing your hands against the table behind you for fear you’d fall over, shock evident on your face.

“You…” you paused, “you burn for me?”

He stepped towards you again until he was right in front of you, then cupped your cheeks in his hands. “Haven’t you seen the way I look at you?”

You shook your head, eyes wide.

“Let me be yours, belle,” he murmured, gazing longingly at your reddened lips. “Let me make you feel good.” He was leaning towards you slowly, gauging your reaction. “Please. I need you,” he said again, desperate for you. “Say you’ll have me,” he pleaded. “Say you'll let me take you, make you mine.”

“Aren’t I already yours?” You wondered aloud. Realizing your words, you slapped a hand over your mouth, face turning red.

Kyle smirked at you, chucking softly. “If you are mine I am certainly yours,” he responded.

You’d never thought you’d want to belong to someone, but you wanted to belong to him. Your heart and soul have belonged to him for a long time, though you’d never tell him that. What difference did it make if your body belonged to him, too?

You shouldn’t. You should refuse him. He would break your heart, and there’d be nothing you could do to escape him. You couldn’t very well kick him out of the band, could you?

You shouldn’t let him touch you, but with him looking at you that way, you weren’t sure you could refuse. Your resolve crumbled.

He’s already going to break my heart, you realized.

Unintentional it may be, but he will destroy you nonetheless, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it. If you let him do as he wishes, at least you’ll have him in this small way. At least you’ll be able to pretend, for a moment, that he’s truly in love with you, too.

You couldn’t refuse him. You wanted this with him too much.

You clenched your eyes shut and nodded slightly.

Within seconds, Kyle’s hand was in your hair and his lips were moving against yours with barely restrained passion. He wound his free arm around your waist, tilting his head slightly.

His lips never leaving yours, moving against you with a gentle pressure, he began to untie drawstring that was keeping your shorts on your waist.

Having been the only person to ever see your body since you’d passed that age of 10, you nearly pushed him away from you, nearly swatted his hands away.

He was still kissing you when he slid your tank-top off of your torso. “Tilt your head,” he said quietly, looking into your eyes. You did so. “Move your lips like I do, okay?” You nodded your understanding, and he smiled. “Good. When my tongue touches yours, just do what I do, belle.”

“What does that mean?” You asked, your voice quiet and rushed as he moved in to kiss you again. “You’ve been calling me that all night”

“Belle?” he questioned. You nodded, and he smiled again. “It means ‘beautiful’.”

You blushed. “Oh.”

And then he kissed you again. Hard. You wanted more, wanted his lips to keep moving against yours, and when you tentatively mirrored his actions, he moaned against you, gripping your hip with one hand and placing the other at the small of your back. When he felt the fabric of your bra, however, he froze.

And you remembered that he hadn’t actually taken the time to look at you in your underwear alone. He pulled back slowly, his eyes sliding down your body.

It was a fairly typical set, black lace and pink stitching that led to a bow in the center. It pushed your breasts together slightly, and hugged your curves closely.

It left nothing to the imagination.

The shapes and lines of your body were visible. The color of your nipples, the slightly curved expanse of your stomach, the slender dip of your waist and the swell of your hips.

Kyle could see every part of you, and he stared at you for nearly a minute, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open just a fraction, before the two of them appeared to snap out of the trance they’d been in; him after seeing your body, and you at the horror of him seeing your body.

You crossed one leg in front of the other and covered your breasts with your arms.

Kyle, on the other hand, was in the process of pulling his shirt off as quickly as physically possible.

“No,” he practically growled as he yanked his shirt over his head and promptly began to unbuckle his belt, shucking off his shoes and socks at the same time. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”

You stared at him, wide-eyed, as he stripped down to his undergarments (a cotton pair of short pants with a drawstring, which he quickly undid) before sliding those over his hipbones, too, with absolutely zero hesitation.

You didn’t even get a look at his dick, he was on you so fast.

He kissed you roughly, with a groan of, “Belle,” against your lips as he slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders. It caught on the tops of your breasts, and you kissed him back hesitantly. “Take this off, amour.”

He kissed your neck wetly and began to suck on the skin there, and you were lost. Slipping your arms out of the confines of the bra, pulling it off your frame. You allowed him to slide your underwear down your legs, too, so that it pooled at your feet.

And then you were naked before him. Well and truly naked. He stopped kissing you, pulling away from you, panting. “Let me look at you.” When you lifted your arms up to block your breasts from view again, he grabbed your wrists. “No,” he said softly. “No. Tu m'appartiens maintenant.”

You found you quite liked the way French rolled off his tongue. Particularly the way he his mouth moved with every foreign syllable.

“What does that mean?” You asked, forcing your embarrassment at being so exposed from your mind.

He grinned. “It means you belong to me now.”

Yes, something deep inside of you whispered. I am yours.

And then you glanced down at his body for the first time, and…

No. No, this wasn’t going to work. It was not what you’d been expecting at all.

You have masterbated before, and it was indeed pleasurable. But that was two of your fingers, maybe three. Naturally, you’d assumed that a man would be about the same size (and therefore endurable) as your fingers.

Kyle was… Well. He most certainly wasn’t the same size as your fingers. In fact, he was about as thick as your wrist, or very nearly so, and seemed to be close to 7 inches.

Fuck.

This wouldn’t work. No, it certainly would not.

You looked back up at him, scoffing. He was taking a step towards you. You took one back. He raised an eyebrow at you, and you shook your head in response, earning a frown from your newfound partner.

“Nope,” you squeaked, taking another step back.

“Nope? Why ‘nope’?”

“If,” you began, “if that is what you plan on putting inside me, then I’m sorry to tell you, Kyle, but but there’s no fucking way”

He blinked at you in confusion. “Amour.” He said the pet name slowly, drawing out the syllables. “I promise you, it’s not impossible.”

“We can try, I guess,” you conceded, still inwardly skeptical.

Pushing past your worries, you tilted your head to the side, beckoning him back towards you. And when he pressed his body to yours, you felt it against your stomach.

Good god, but it felt even larger than it looked.

“I’ll prepare you,” Kyle promised, one of his hands resting on your hip. “You were made to take me.” He pressed a kiss just below your ear. “I know you were.” And then, he was murmuring French again. “Je vais te faire mendier pour ma bite.”

“What does that mean?” You gasped out as he trailed kisses up your neck and peppered your jaw with them.

He smirked against your skin.

“It means I’ll make you beg for my dick.”

You whimpered. “Let me make you scream for me,” he said huskily before kissing you again, even more fiercely than he had before.

“Ky,” you gasped out as he laved at your neck. “Kyle, please—“

“I will,” he promised, cupping your cheek and kissing you hungrily. “Spread your legs for me, mon amour.”

You pushed down your nervousness by force and did so, too absorbed in him to ask the meaning of what he’d said. Once your legs were spread, he slipped his hand between them and began to stroke you.

He groaned when his fingertips first brushed against you. “You’re so wet,” he said hoarsely. “God, you must want me as much as I want you.” You didn’t speak, because he was kissing you again. And then he brushed his fingers against your clit, and you knew it was over for you. Your resolve snapped.

He rubbed you with one hand and grasped your breast with the other, stroking your nipple.

A whimper forced its way out of your throat, and he chuckled against your lips. “Does it feel good?” He was still stroking you between your legs, sending sparks of pure electricity shooting through your veins, and the fingers caressing your breast had started to pinch your nipple lightly. “Tell me if it feels good,” he encouraged.

“It— it does,” You gasped out as he trailed kisses along your jaw.

“Je vais te baiser jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus bouger, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses plus respirer, jusqu'à ce que tu ne puisses penser à rien d'autre qu'à moi,” he murmured in your ear.

“Kyle,” you whimpered, “if you— if you’re going to speak French, you have to translate it.”

“I’ll try to remember that.” He rubbed you a little bit faster, pinched your nipple a little bit harder. “I said I’m going to fuck you until you can’t move,” he told you lowly, “until you can’t breathe, until you can’t think of anything but me.”

He slid a finger inside of you, and it was insanely better than when you’d tried it on yourself. It was… it was divine. He pulled the finger out again, pumping it a few times and rubbing that spot with his thumb all the while.

A wet squelching sound filled the room that you were embarrassed by, but Kyle seemed to revel in it. “So wet for me,” he groaned, leaning his forehead against your shoulder and sliding another finger inside you.

You clutched at his shoulders, and your hips started to move against his hand. As soon as you became physically responsive, he lifted his head and kissed you desperately, his hand leaving your breast to cup your cheek as you practically rode his fingers.

You panted and whimpered, and when he saw you biting your lip in effort to keep quiet, he pulled your lip out from between your teeth with his thumb, stroking it.

“I want every part of you,” he whispered on an exhale. “I want to hear every sound you make. Don’t you dare hide them.”

Shutting your eyes tightly and letting your head fall back against the wall with a soft thunk, you stopped trying to suppress your whimpers and cries of his name.

“Kyle, Kyle, ah, ah, Kyle—“

“I know, gentille fille,” he said quietly. “I know.”

“Oh, God, Kyle—“ you cried out.

“Trust me, beautiful. Let go.”

You were certain you were going to die. It felt as if he continued, you would die. It felt good, it felt incredible. You didn’t know how he was simply so good, but you were so grateful for it.

“Let go,” he said again, and you fisted a hand in his unruly hair, kissing him with a desperation you hadn’t known you’d had in you. His tongue brushed against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, yearning for him.

You were going to explode after all. This orgasm, it was building inside of you, and with it, your love for him was, too, and he kept thrusting his fingers into you, kept stroking you with his thumb, and you kissed him again, for fear you couldn’t contain the words within you, but then your head leaned back of its own accord.

“Kyle Kyle Kyle please, please don’t stop—“ you moaned loudly, chanting his name like a prayer.

“I won’t,” he promised darkly. “Cum for me, amour.” You cried out again, and he leaned down and bit your neck. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Cum for me.”

“Ah ah ah, oh fuck, Kyle—“ You were sobbing now, and Kyle leaned down to suckle at your nipples, biting them gently. You practically screamed, and then you burst into starlight, and as you did, something emerged from you that you couldn’t have contained no matter how hard you tried.

“Ky,” you were sobbing.

“I know,” he murmured against your breast.

“Kyle, I love you, please, I— I love you, I love you I love you I love you, Fuck, Kyle, ah!” He froze when he heard you say it, but you were already clenching around his fingers, your body convulsing.

He pulled back from you and removed his fingers from within you, still in shock.

“Really?” He finally murmured, tilting your chin up softly. His hazel eyes gazing back into yours.

“Yeah,” you said softly, caressing his cheek. “Yeah.” You repeated louder, a smile tugging at your lips.

And they lived happily ever after blah blah blah

#blair3🖤#kyle scheible smut #kyle scheible #lady bird #lady bird smut #one bed trope #smut #rockstar smut #Spotify #timothée chalamet smut #timothée chalamet #timothée chalamalabingbong

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sydsaint · 2 months

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Summary: Bron finds himself out a hotel room after a late-night mix-up with the receptionist. Luckily for him, the reader is an old friend who is also getting into town late.

It's well past midnight when Bron's Uber from the airport finally pulls into the hotel parking lot. "Thanks, man." Bron mumbles a quick thanks to his driver before collecting his bags and heading inside the lobby.

Dragging his bags behind him, Bron heads for the check-in desk where there is a blonde woman watching something on her phone to occupy her time.

"Evening, sir." The woman perks up when Bron approaches the desk. "What can I do for you?" She asks him with a polite smile.

"Yeah, room reserved for Bronson Steiner?" Bron answers the blonde.

The blonde nods and starts typing at the keyboard in front of her. Bron watches her eyebrows furrow in confusion for a brief moment before goes back to her keyboard.

"Is there a problem?" Bron speaks up after a few moment of silence.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." The blonde frowns and mumbles something under her breath. "Mr. Steiner, I'm afraid that there was an issue with our booking system. We gave your room away earlier today." She bites the inside of her cheek, embarrassed by the mix-up.

Bron frowns but tries not to take his frustration out on the poor receptionist in front of him. "Are there any other rooms available? Even just for the night?" He asks her.

"No, I'm sorry." The blonde shakes her head sheepishly. "We're booked up fully for that Wrestling show going on in the arena across the way." She explains.

"Damn." Bron grits his teeth. "Okay, do you know if anyone else around has a room available?" He tries his best to remain calm and civil about the whole situation.

The receptionist clicks her mouse a few times in silence and Bron watches her in silence.

Out in the parking lot, you finally arrive at the hotel after a painstaking flight. You collect your bags from the back of your Uber and thank him before heading inside. When you step into the quiet hotel lobby, you spot Bron talking with the receptionist at the front desk.

"Bron!" You walk over to Breakker with a smile.

The two of you knew each other in NXT and were friends. You got moved up to Smackdown about a year ago and lost touch with Bron due to always being on the road. But recently Bron has joined the Smackdown roster. So the two of you have been catching up.

"I thought I was the only one crazy enough to be getting in this late." You joke with a laugh and walk over to Bron at the front desk.

"YN, hey." Bron turns toward you with a surprised but friendly smile. But you can tell something is bothering him.

You glance at the receptionist who is feverishly clicking away at her computer then turn back to Bron. "What's going on? Sign in not working or something?" You ask Bron.

"They accidently gave my room away earlier today." Bron explains. "And now they're all booked up for the show. So she's trying to find me a new hotel." He gestures to the receptionist.

"Oh, I hate when that happens." You frown. "When the show was in Ontario a few months ago they accidently gave my room away. I ended up having to share a room with Waller since we had that storyline going." You explain. "And my god can that man snore. Ugh, it was hell."

The receptionist continues trying to fix Bron's problem when an idea pops into your head. You turn toward her with a friendly smile. "Miss? Can I get checked in real fast?" You ask her. "It's a room for YN LN?"

The receptionist nods and quickly checks you in with no problems. You take your keycard and turn toward Bron. "You can bunk with me for the night, Bron." You offer. "Then you can see about getting a different room tomorrow when it's not like 2am and more places are open." You suggest.

"Oh, I don't want to intrude, YN." Bron shakes his head.

"You aren't!" You insist. "Come on. I've got a room with a king bed, Plenty of room for you and those broad shoulders for the night." You tease with a small laugh. "Really, it's no trouble."

Bron reluctantly nods and you ask the receptionist for a spare keycard. She hands one over to Bron and the two of you head up to your room.

You reach your floor and head for your room. You unlock the door and head inside. The room is nothing special. Just a standard room with a tv, table, two chairs, and a king bed.

"Alright, well I'm going to grab a shower before I head to sleep." You set your bags down and dig around for your sleep-wear. "Make yourself at home."

Bron nods and watches you disappear into the bathroom. He sits down at the edge of the bed and sets his head in his hands followed by a deep sigh.

"What the hell am I doing?" Bron groans to himself once he hears the shower turn on in the bathroom.

A little over a month ago when Bron joined Smackdown you were the first person to congratulate him on his promotion. It had been almost a year since you and Bron had last seen each other, but you acted like no time had passed. And that exact moment was when Bron realized that he doesn't just want to be your friend anymore. No. The man has a hopeless crush on you. And now he's about to sleep in the same bed as you.

Around half and hour later you emerge from the bathroom dressed in nothing but a t-shirt and underwear while toweling your hair off. Bron chokes on air from his spot on the edge of the bed as you approach him.

"That the side you want, Bron?" You ask absentmindedly and walk around to the other side of the bed.

"Y-yeah." Bron nods, gaze following you all the way around the bed.

You toss your damp towel toward the bathroom door and hop up onto the bed. "Cool with me." You settle into the mattress and reach for your phone to plug it in. "I'll see you in the morning, Bron." You switch your side-table lamp off and snuggle into your pillow.

Bron remains in a sitting position for a while, his nerves paralyzing him. But after a while he finally calms himself enough to strip his shirt off and lay down.

You lay on the other side of the bed fast asleep on your back with your head turned toward Bron. Breakker lays in silence and watches the rise and fall of your chest, silently scoffing at the Tony D'Angelo shirt you're wearing.

Eventually Breakker does manage to fall asleep for a while. He's woken up a couple hours later when he suddenly feels a weight shift in the bed followed by a warm body right up against him. Bron's eyes shoot open and he finds you snuggled up into his side and still sleeping like a baby.

"Shit." Bron mumbles to himself as he stares down at your sleeping form.

Light is starting to stream in through the window, so it's got to be at least six by now. A part of Bron wants to flee back down to the lobby and get his room situation figured out. And he probably would if you weren't using him as a body pillow right now.

Bron's heart thumps in his chest and the noise is enough to make you stir in your sleep. "God you're warm." You sigh half-asleep and adjust your body a bit before snuggling back into Bron. "And cuddly, Bron." You add with a yawn.

Bron lays awake for around another hour before you eventually roll off of him and fully wake up for the morning.

"Morning, Bron." You yawn and sit up in bed.

"Morning." Bron replies and does the same.

You take a moment to stretch your arms over your head before you let yourself fall back down into bed. "Sleep well?" You ask Bron.

"Yeah, fine." Bron nods.

"Liar." You reply with a sly grin. "You slept for like two hours max last night." You laugh. "You were to busy having a crisis over being in the same bed as me, dork." You giggle and poke Bron in the back.

Your claim makes Bron turn around to face you. "How'd you know that?" He asks you.

"I'm a pretty light sleeper." You shrug. "Plus when I rolled over to your side of the bed I could her your heart about to burst out of your chest." You giggle and poke Bron's bare chest. "So. How long were you planning on pining over me like a lost puppy?" You ask him.

"I-I-I was not pining." Bron huffs in embarrassment.

You smirk and rise into a sitting position again. "Sure you weren't." You tease him. "That's why you're blushing right now. Because you aren't dying to see me naked." You wink at Bron.

Bron runs a frustrated hand over his face and you giggle at him. "What's so funny?" Bron asks you, clearly about to die from embarrassment.

"You are." You continue with your fit of giggles and sit back up in bed. "And criminally adorable when you're all flustered and embarrassed." You add. "So. Whadduya say, Bronson? You ready to admit you've got a thing for me? Or do I have to go shower alone?"

You watch Bron's eyes widen in surprise and you can't help but laugh again at his flustered expression. "So adorable." You tease. "Come on, big boy. Don't get all choir-boy-eques on me now." You scoot to the edge of the bed and grab Bron's hand.

"Well I'd be stupid to say no." Bron finally replies after a few seconds of contemplation.

"Atta boy!" You grin and continue on your journey to the bathroom, Bron trailing close behind you.

You are going to eat this poor awkward man alive. And you can't wait to see what he's got in store for you.

68 notes · View notes

muffinpink02 · 2 months

Text

Bronze Is Better Then Gold

part 2 here

Summary - Ona has transferred to a new police force, she meets her partner, Lucy Bronze. The girls hit it off right away, flirting at every chance they can get. But will Lucy’s past get in the way?

This is an AU story, but its got most of the girls from the lionesses featuring. People seem to like it so thought you guys might too.

Warnings - some suggestive scenes (lets keep it 18 and above) lots of angst, gun violence, smut to come in last chapter (chapter 4)

Ona shivered from the crisp cold morning air. It had just hit the start of October and the signs of autumn were already showing. Even after nearly five years of living in the UK the Spaniard still hadn’t got used to the cold English weather.

She drank the last sip of her coffee, taking in the grey building in front of her. Her new place of work.

She watched as a couple of uniformed police officers walked into the building, talking amongst themselves. She took in a deep breath, trying her best to shake off the first day nerves.

It was her first day at the new firm. She had been personally scouted from the Chief Constable to have a chat. When asked if she wanted to transfer it was an easy yes for Ona. The building was closer to home, it was a day shorter in the working week with Mondays off. And the Chief Constable was well known to be excellent at her job. Her team was one of the best in the city of London. She was definitely someone Ona wanted to be working under.

She dashed her empty coffee cup in a nearby bin and made her way to the buildings reception, where she was greeted by a very overly happy receptionist. Not something that she was used to back in her old firm or in London for that matter.

“Hello, how can I help you today?” The blonde smiled brightly up at Ona.

Ona cleared her throat. “Good morning, I’m Ona Battle, it’s my first day today, I was told to go to reception.”

“Ohh lovely! Welcome! I have all the bits you’ll need.”

Ona smiled at the bubbly blonde. She glanced at her name tag, Esme Morgan.

The blonde grabbed a folder that had lots of paper work inside, she handed it over to Ona.

“Right here’s all the bits you’ll need from me, I’ll take you over to Sarina, the ‘important’ part of the building. I’m Esme by the way. Follow me.”

The blonde was taller than Ona expected her to be, but that wasn’t hard in Ona’s experience, most people in the room were always taller than the Spaniard, unless they were under the age of ten.

“You’ve met Sarina right?” The blonde smiled.

Esme reminded Ona of an excited puppy in the nicest possible way, the girl was full of beans.

“Ahh yes, on video call. She’s really nice.”

“Oh yeah she is, she’s like a mum away from your own mum. Well that’s how I see her.”

Ona smiled, she liked this girl, she wasn’t like your usual Brit, she was genuinely cheery. Not fake cheery, but someone who actually seemed happy.

They walked down a long green corridor, Ona looked over at the pictures on the wall of police officers from across the years, even going back as far as the 18th century.

“We’ve heard such good things about you. I know Sarinas really happy that you joined us.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard good things about this branch. I could never have said no.”

Esme smiled, she had a happy bounce to her as she walked, her cheerful character was almost infectious.

“Ahh that’s great. I hope you like it here, we’ve got a lovely bunch on the team. Do you know who your partner is?”

“Ahh that’s good to hear. Erm I’m going to be working with Gold.”

“Gold? Who’s Gold? I didn’t know we had a gold.” Esme’s face scrunched in confusion.

Ona rattled her brain for the right translation, she was sure it was gold, or was it?

“Oh do you mean Bronze?”

Ona laughed, just slightly embarrassed of her mix up.

“Ahh yes, sorry I haven’t got my elements down.”

Esme smiled widely, Ona couldn’t help but smile back.

“Oh yeah, neither have I, don’t worry about it.” She laughed to herself, turning a corner with Ona following.

“Yeah Bronze is a lovely girl. She’s such a hard worker, one of the hardest workers on the team actually. You’re lucky to have her as your partner.”

Ona smiled, she already liked the sound of her new partner, but she had to try and forget ‘Gold’ and remember Bronze.

But little did Ona know that wouldn’t be hard.

They stopped outside a room with a plaque ingrained with ‘S Weigman’ on the door. Esme knocked a cheery tune.

In a heartbeat she heard a women’s voice coming from inside.

“Come in Esme.”

Esme opened the door motioning for Ona to enter.

“Right, here we are, this is where I leave you. Sarina will take it from here. Good luck today and if you need anything you know where to find me.”

“Thank you Esme, it was lovely to meet you.”

Esme nodded, a happy smile still sitting on her face.

“Oh by the way, Claudia called, she’s had to cancel the 10 o’clock meeting.”

Sarina nodded, smiling fondly at the blonde, it was as if she was looking at a young child.

“Thank you Esme, and thank you for bringing Ona.”

The bubbly blonde nodded and bounced off, waving at everyone she passed in the corridor. Ona couldn’t help but smile again at the brightness that Esme left on her mood.

“Ona! Please come in. It’s so good to finally meet you in person, I can’t tell you how happy I am that you’ve joined us. Come take a seat. Do you want a tea or coffee, a cold drink?”

Ona took a seat in front of Sarinas desk.

“Oh no, I’m okay, I just had a coffee. Thank you.”

Sarina nodded, smiling at the young girl in front of her.

“Okay, well firstly welcome. I know I’ve said it already but I’m so excited to have you on the team. Emma told me how much of a hard worker you are, you’ve accomplished so much at such a young age. It’s incredible. Emma did not let you go easy! But I’m glad you were happy to move to us.”

Ona smiled at her feet, feeling slightly shy at the compliments.

“Ahh thank you. It’s just part of the role, I really enjoy my job. And yes the move felt right, I had been there since I moved to London, so it was nice for a change. I’ve also heard a lot about you and your team. You’re well known how efficient your squad run.”

Sarina smiled and nodded, taking in the girl in front of her.

“So where are you from? That’s not a British accent I can hear.”

Ona laughed. “I’m from Spain, Catalonia. I’ve been in the UK nearly five years.”

“I see, so why police here and not Spain? What made you move here?”

Ona played with her fingers. “I was in the police force back in Spain, I joined when I was 18 but I wanted a change. I love my city but things didn’t work out how I wanted. I’ve always loved the UK and the people. There’s something special about it.”

Sarina nodded again, smiling warmly at the younger girl.

“I can understand, I’m originally from the Netherlands. I came here to study and never left. I then found my now husband and have lived here ever since.”

Ona nodded, smiling at the women. “The UK spoke to both of us.”

Sarina hummed in agreement. “It did indeed. Do you ever go back home much?”

Ona played with her fingers again, feeling a little uncomfortable. She kept her eyes casted down.

“Erm, not really. I went back once but that’s all.”

Sarina noticed the change in the younger women. She didn’t want to push so she changed the subject.

“Well, these next couple of days I just want you to get to know the team and the building and how we work here. I don’t want to throw you right in the deep end, even though I know you can handle it. I like my staff to feel comfortable first. Bronze and the team will be going on a raid next week. You’ll be joining them.”

Ona nodded. “Okay, that sounds good. I’m really looking forward to meeting everyone and getting stuck in.” She smiled at the older women.

“And I want you to know I am always here if you need to talk about anything, from work, to general life. We have our therapist on site that we ask you to at least see once every two weeks but you can go as much as you want.

Ona now understood what Esme meant about Sarina being a mother figure, she could sense a genuine care from the older women but also a firmness to her.

The Spaniard nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Great, I’ll take you on a tour of the building and you can meet the team and meet your partner.”

Sarina showed Ona around the building, stopping off at certain floors that Ona would need in the future.

They then walked into the main office, where it looked like most of the staff worked. Ona suddenly felt a little nervous, she was fine with meeting new people, she was a social butterfly really, but it was always daunting meeting your new work colleagues.

“Nobbs, Stokes, come and meet Ona Battle, it’s her first day and I want you to make sure she settles in.”

Two short women smiled brightly at Ona, both walking towards her.

“Hello, I’m Jordan or Nobbs. It’s nice to meet you.” She reached her hand out to shake Ona’s.

“Hello Jordan, lovely to meet you.”

“I’m Demi or Stokes. Really happy to have you on the team.” The slightly taller woman also holding her hand out for Ona.

Ona smiled, shaking Demis hand.

“Hello Demi. Also lovely to meet you.”

“You’ll be working a lot with DC Nobbs and DC Stokes. They’re some of the best Detective Constables I’ve ever worked with.”

Serina patted Demi on the back. Looking at the girls like a proud mum.

“Yeah, yeah. You say that about everyone.” Demi rolled her eyes, joking with her superior.

“No? Do I? Oh just the good ones then.” Sarina winked at the Spaniard. Causing the group to laugh.

Ona once again could see the pride this woman had for her team, it was refreshing to see. It definitely wasn’t something she was used to in her old firm.

Demi then spoke. “We’ve heard only good things about you Ona.”

A slight tint of pink rushed to Ona’s cheeks.

“I’m scared I’ve got to live up to this reputation now.”

All four of the women laughed.

“Don’t worry. You have Bronze as a partner, she’ll make sure you live up to it.” A new voice entered the chat.

Ona turned around to face a women even taller then Esme. A cup of coffee in hand.

“Don’t try and scare her Scott.” Jordan scolded the older women.

The taller women laughed at her own joke. She stuck her hand out for Ona to take.

“I’m only joking. I’m Scott, it’s good to have you on the team.”

Ona noticed her thick Northern accent, she knew she’d have to listen extra hard when speaking with the tall woman.

“Thank you, it’s great to meet you.” Ona smiled.

“Ona, this is our SFC Jill Scott, one of the best I’ve ever worked with.”

“That’s true.” Jill took a sip of her coffee looking pleased with herself, while the other two girls rolled their eyes at the banter.

“Where is Bronze?” Sarina looked around the room.

“Gym.” In unison all three of the girls replied.

Ona quirked an eye brow at the response

“That girl! I told her to be here to meet Ona.”

“She probably wanted her muscles to look extra big to show off.” Jordan laughed.

“Yeah, like she needs them any bigger.” Jill took another sip of her coffee.

“Jealousy is a shit trait to have Scott.”

Another voice entered the conversation.

“Ahh Luce, you know I’m only joking. I am indeed just jealous.” Jill laughed.

Ona turned around wanting to give the new voice a face.

Wow.

Ona nearly forgot how to breathe, the woman standing in front of her was stunning. She took in the girl in front of her, she had almond shaped eyes, filled with a beautiful intense shade of green. Like Ona she had a face covered in freckles but a lot less dark and less condensed.

Her face was strong and soft at the same time, her jawline was perfectly defined, yet her other features were soft and feminine, she was gorgeous.

Her face was flushed, a thin layer of sweat glistening over her muscular arms and neck. Her dark hair was wet and scraped back, small curls escaping the messy bun, clearly wet from the gym that the girls had mentioned.

Ona was lost for words, the girl was beautiful.

“Ona this is CI Bronze, she’s going to be there for whatever you need, all of the girls will be, but Bronze is your go to girl.”

Lucy couldn’t hold back the smile that appeared on her face, Ona was breathtaking. It was her eyes that Lucy noticed first, she had wide, soft doe eyes, innocent looking eyes. A beautiful chocolate brown surrounded her iris, making her face warm and inviting.

Dark freckles covered her face, another feature Lucy couldn’t help but admire. Her skin was slightly tanned but not bronze, more of a milk colour. Lucy imagined that was because of the English weather.

It was when Ona smiled that Lucy felt her stomach flutter. She thought her face was beautiful and soft before, but her smile made her perfect. She noticed how chiseled her jawline was when she smiled, how perfectly it fit with her features. The girl was utterly beautiful.

Lucy held out her hand for Ona’s to shake.

Ona had to kick her brain into gear to move, she took Lucy’s hand, instantly loving how soft her skin was against hers.

“It’s great to have you on the team Ona, and like Sarina said, I’m here for whatever you need.”

“Thank you, I can’t wait to work with you.”

They held hands for a second longer than the usual handshake would normally last.

The interaction wasn’t missed by the other women, Jordan and Demi eyed up the the older brunette, smiling between each other as Lucy and Ona kept eye contact for a second too long.

“Okay, well. I’ll let Lucy take care of you from here, if you need anything let the girls know, or if you need anything from me you know where I am.”

The older lady smiled warmly at Ona, leaving her with her new co-workers.

“Let me show you your desk, it’s next to mine.”

“Great.” Ona followed.

Lucy walked towards a row of desks with computers and files of paper work neatly piled on each space. But there was one desk with only a computer that Ona assumed was hers.

“This is you. I apologise in advance my desk can get a little messy now and again.”

“Ahh that doesn’t bother me.” Ona couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

“I’ll try keep and keep it tidy though.”

“She won’t Ona, she’s lying.” Jordan poked her head over Lucy’s computer. Hers and Demis desk both opposite their own.

“Shut it Nobbs,”

Jordan smiled cheekily at the older brunette.

“Trust me Ona, give it a week.” Jordan smiled.

Ona laughed at the banter between the girls, she wondered if her and Lucy would ever get as close.

“Ignore her. I’m going to quickly head for the showers. I know you’ve got all that paper work to go through, so you can just chill here. Kitchen is just over there, help yourself to a drink. Once I’m back I’ll go through some bits with you.” Lucy smiled at the younger girl.

“Sure, sounds good. Enjoy your shower.” Ona had to stop herself from thinking too hard about Lucy in the shower. She looked around the room, noticing other people at their desks working, she was going to have to try and remember a lot of names today.

She started to read through her paper work, it was mostly rules and work conducts she had to read and agree to.

Eight pages in to her paper work she felt Lucy hover over her.

“God I hate all of this, it’s so boring, but I get it, it has to be done.” Lucy rolled her eyes.

Ona smiled, she agreed but she wasn’t going to make it obvious. “Ahh yeah, I know. Nearly done though.”

Lucy nodded. “Do you fancy a tea or coffee? I’m going to make one.”

“Coffee please.” - “Tea for me.” Jordan and Demi loudly put their order in.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t asking you!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re going anyways.” Demi shouted back.

“Fine. Ona?” Lucy started to get up.

“Erm, tea please? With two sugars please.” Ona smiled.

Lucy had to hold herself back from saying the ‘you’re sweet enough’ line.

“No problem.” Lucy made her way to the kitchen.

Ona smiled as she read on with her paper work.

Ona drank her tea that Lucy made, listening to the brunette talk about what investigations the team was working on.

“But don’t stress too much, I’ll have you sitting in the catch up on Friday, so you can get an idea. I’ll send over some bits so you can read them in your own time. I know the first day can be a lot.”

If Ona was honest she was more than grateful for the slow introduction to the work. She was finding it hard to concentrate with Lucy. She’d never been one for distractions with work, but she was having to listen extra carefully to Lucy, instead of watching her lips, wondering what they would feel like against her own.

Ona nodded. “Yeah that’s great. I’ll go over that tonight, thank you Lucy.”

“Great. It’s nearly lunch, Sarina has insisted we go for lunch together to get to know each other. Partners and all that. But don’t feel like you hav-.”

“Yes!” Ona internally winced at her own eagerness

Lucy chuckled.

“I mean yeah, that’s sounds great. It’s a good idea.”

“Cool, do you like pizza?”

“I love pizza.”

“Oi, don’t try and par us off, we was CC’d on that email too.” Jordan’s head pocked over the computer.

Lucy rolled her eyes once again at her friend.

——————-

The conversation between the girls came naturally, they spoke about why they got into the police force, and some of their hardest cases.

Ona explained that she fell in love with London, and how she always wanted to be a police officer when she was young. She kept some bits brief, not wanting to get into certain bits of her life.

She noticed those greens eyes watching her throughout the meal, every time she caught her, the older brunette would dart her eyes to something or someone else, but she was caught every time.

*********

By the end of the day Ona was tired, she’d already not slept great the night before down to nerves. She had met everyone else in the office after lunch, so by five she was yawning.

Lucy was on her computer sending Ona some notes to read.

“Right, don’t stress about reading this tonight. It’s been a long day.”

“But don’t be tired on Friday, we’re going to The Rose and Crown. And it’s the rules, you have to come.” Jill had come up behind Ona.

“Well it doesn’t sound like I have a choice, you can buy my first drink.” Ona smiled, getting used to the girls banter.

All the girls laughed, Jill put her hand on Ona shoulder giving her a squeeze.

“I like this one.”

Lucy was watching Ona, a bright smile on her face, Ona felt her heart beat just a little faster.

——————-

By day two Ona was obsessed with Lucy’s laugh, the girl had a serious nature to her, but once Ona made her laugh she couldn’t stop. She wanted to hear that beautiful sound whenever she could. It was a good thing Lucy actually seemed to find her funny. Ona felt a rush of excitement go through her, even at a glimpse of Lucy’s beautiful smile, the girl did have a beautiful smile.

By day three Lucy had to physically stop herself from staring at Ona. The younger girl would be doing the simplest of tasks and Lucy seemed to find it fascinating. She watched the Spaniard making them tea in the kitchen, talking and laughing with others in the office. Lucy maybe even getting a little jealous when someone made the shorter girl laugh hard.

Ona may have noticed the eyes on her and was loving every second of it. Making sure to laugh a little harder at something someone would say.

By day end of day there neither girl could keep the other out of their head. Lucy thought about Ona as she made dinner at home, wondering if Ona would like her cooking. Meanwhile Ona got comfy on her sofa to watch a film, wondering what it would be like to have Lucy cozied up next to her.

By Friday morning, Ona thought about Lucy as she ate her porridge, wondering what her morning routine looked like. As Lucy finished her workout in the gym she wondered if Ona was a morning person. She wondered what it would be like to wake up next to a groggy Ona. The thought made her body heat up.

———————

“We have eyes on Harvey Smith aka ‘Bugz’ and Frank Smith aka ‘Slims’. We know the brothers are highly dangerous to the public. We believe Slims is the brains behind most of the drug operations and Bugz is mostly muscles for Slims. On Wednesday at seven hundred hours, our teams will raid the location that we suspect they will be. We’ll have Scott and her team ready with arms. Carter will have the K9s unit, Bright and Greenwood will have their teams ready on site.”

Lucy looked over at her team.

“Any questions?”

Everyone shook their heads, and Ona wasn’t surprised. Lucy was clear with her instructions, she’d gone through many different stages of the plan. Ona understood why she was in this role.

“If you have any please come to me.”

Lucy looked her watch. “It’s 4.45 and Friday let’s call it a day.”

The room hummed in agreement, light chatter broke out as people started to leave the room.

Ona went to her desk to grab her bag and jacket, she felt a pair of hands on her shoulders.

“Ready for the pub?”

Lucy’s voice filtered into her ears, Ona nearly shivered at how close the brunette was.

“Sii. I’m ready.”

“Great. Nobbs, Stokes, Scott, let’s go.”

—————-

Most of the staff from the office were at the pub, clearly a favourite of theirs. They made their way upstairs to a booth next to a fire place, Ona instantly felt the warmth from the fire kissing her cheeks.

“Right, I’ll get first round who wants what?” Lucy stayed standing.

The girls gave in their orders. Before Ona could offer to help with the drinks and also just have an excuse to be with Lucy, Jill got in there first.

“Right come on then, I’ll help ya.”

At the bar Lucy gave in the orders. She knew Jill wanted to say something as the Geordie had never offered to help anyone with the drinks since working with her.

“Go on then, what do you have to say?” Lucy looked hard at the taller women.

Jill smiled smugly. “Nothing gets past you.”

Lucy hummed.

“Just noticed you’ve been a lot more chirpier around the office. A lot more happy. Started since our new Detective Inspector started.”

Lucy felt the knot in her stomach, was she that obvious? Did Ona notice? Who else noticed? Either way Lucy wasn’t going to fess up.

“You chat shit Scott.”

Jill laughed loudly.

“You know I don’t. Come on it’s okay, no harm in it. Just happy to see you happy to be honest. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that smile on your face.”

Lucy knew what Jill really meant when she said that. She could tell the older women said it with her own hint of sadness to her voice. If she was being honest, it was the first time this year she had felt a little happier. And it was all because of the short Spanish girl sitting upstairs.

“So Ona are you seeing anyone at the moment?” Jordan asked.

“No, I’m not seeing anyone. I’m a single, how do you say? Dingle?”

The girls laughed. “Pringle, a single Pringle.” Demi corrected.

Ona laughed. “Ahh that’s it. Single Pringle. What about you guys?”

“Demi here’s engaged, with a baby.” Jordan smiled.

“Ahh that’s lovely.” Ona smiled.

“And Jordan has a little thing going on with a blonde in the HR team.”

“Oi, shut up.” Jordan looked panicked.

“Oh come on Jordan, everyone knows. You guys really aren’t subtle.” Demi laughed at her friend.

“Who’s not subtle?” Lucy placed the tray full of drinks on the table, sceptically looking at her friends.

“Just Jordan and Leah.”

Lucy let out a breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

“Oh yeah, you guys aren’t subtle.”

“You can talk.” Jordan muttered.

Ona didn’t miss the daggers Lucy shot at Jordan.

The evening was full of laughter, Ona couldn’t help but feel a little sense of relief that these were her colleagues. They instantly made her feel like she was part of the team, it felt like she had been there longer than four days, it felt like she’d known these girls in another lifetime.

The pub bell rang.

“Last orders!” A bar girl shouted.

“One more for the road?” Lucy looked around the table.

“Not me, I’m at a coffee tour tomorrow.” Jill sipped on her pint.

“Yeah me too. I’m a plus one for a 2 year olds birthday party tomorrow.” Demi slumped in her seat.

“Yeah I’ve got to head off. I’m meeting a friend tomorrow.” Jordan cleared her throat.

“Yeah ‘friend’.” Demi laughed.

“I’ll stay for another.” Ona looked at Lucy.

Lucy had to hold back the excitement that bubbled up in her chest. Herself and Ona hadn’t really gotten any one on one time since the girl joined the team.

“Finally! Someone who isn’t a lightweight. Same again?” Lucy looked at Ona.

“It’s my turn. I’ll get this.” Ona shot up, going down to the bar before Lucy could argue.

Once the Spaniard was gone all three of the girls looked at Lucy, smirks on their faces.

“What?” Lucy looked at her friends.

“Oh come off it Luce, you like the girl.” Jordan nudged Lucy’s arm.

“What? No I don’t.” The brunette tried to defend herself.

She looked at Jill, hoping for some back up.

“I’m staying out of it. I’ve already said enough.“ She shook her head putting her coat on.

“Come on Bronzey. You can tell just by the way you look at her.” Demi laughed.

The smirk that creeped on her lips gave her feelings away.

“Is it that obvious?”

All three girls smiled happily at the brunette.

“Awww our girls got a crush.” Jordan grabbed the back of Lucy’s neck, making the girl duck her head.

“Get off.” She laughed.

“She’s single.” Demi quirked.

“Yeah but I don’t even know if she’s into girls.”

All three of the girls laughed hard then.

“Come on Luce, I thought you was a detective. The girl looks at you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread. I think this its a mutual feeling.” Jill lightly chuckled.

Lucy scoffed. “I doubt that.”

Before the girls could harass Lucy anymore Ona returned.

“Right I’m off. I hope you’ve enjoyed your first week Ona. The real work starts on Wednesday.” Jill winked.

“Sii, I’m looking forward to it. And thank you girls for making me feel so welcome. I appreciate it.” Ona smiled at the girls.

“It’s been a pleasure Ona.” Jordan smiled.

“Yeah, you fit in so well Ona, so glad we got you on our team.” Demi grabbed Ona’s shoulder.

“Look after her Bronze.” Jill pointed at the older brunette.

“Oh, she will.” Jordan winked at Lucy.

Ona didn’t miss the comment, or the way Lucy’s face went a shade of pink. Before Lucy could think of a come back the girls were gone.

Suddenly the room became quiet and the air between, Lucy and Ona felt thick. It was the first time Lucy had felt nervous, they had never been alone before, with no one sticking their nose into their conversations.

Ona was buzzing, don’t get her wrong, she loved getting to know her other colleges, loved being a part of the team but she had wanted some alone time with Lucy since she met her.

The fire made a loud cracking noise, the pub still had a few people nursing their drinks.

Lucy had forgotten all words, she hadn’t been able to think about nothing else since this girl came into her life only four days ago, and now her mind had gone blank.

After ten seconds of silence that actually felt like hours, finally Lucy’s brain woke up.

“So speaking about first weeks, how has yours been?”

Ona took a sip of her new drink, smiling.

“It’s been amazing. Everyone has been so friendly, so welcoming. It’s been great.”

Lucy nodded, smiling. She was happy to hear Ona was feeling welcome, she understood it was hard to start a new job anywhere.

“You especially have made me feel so welcome, I’m really happy that you’re my partner Lucy.”

Ona’s smile was shy, she looked at Lucy with those big beautiful brown eyes.

Lucy’s face had definitely changed in colour, she couldn’t hold back the dorky smile that plastered her face.

“I’m glad I have.”

Lucy smiled with her brilliant teeth.

“And yeah, you’re not too bad yourself. Definitely need to get you better at making tea, then you’ll be perfect.” She smiled cheekly at Ona.

Ona laughed hard. “Aye it’s not that bad!”

Lucy drank her drink, looking around making a point to not look at Ona.

“You’ll have to teach me.” Ona didn’t mean to sound sexy, but Lucy couldn’t help but think her voice got an octave lower.

Lucy pointed between herself and Ona. “If this is gong to work, then yeah, I’ll teach you.”

“Fine.” Ona smiled.

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Perfect.”

“No puedo esperar.” (I can’t wait)

Ona definitely lowered her voice that time. Lucy felt the heat rise up in her cheeks. Lucy laughed trying to gain her nerve back. She tried to change the subject before her face went any redder.

“Are you going back to Spain for Christmas?”

Ona’s smile dropped, she hadn’t told anyone the real reason for leaving Spain. It wasn’t because she was ashamed, it was just still a hard thing for her to digest. But if she could tell anyone Lucy would be the best person.

“No, I, ……. my parents don’t talk to me because I am gay.”

Lucy’s own smile dropped. She could see the sadness in Ona’s eyes, it broke her heart.

“Oh, Ona. I’m so sorry. When did they do that?”

“It happened when I was 19. They found out and kicked me out of my home. They blocked me and never spoke to me again. So I moved here. I wanted to move here at some point anyways, but it was sooner than I’d have liked.”

Lucy could feel her own tears well in her eyes.

“Have you spoken to them since?”

Ona looked down at her drink.

“After a year of living here I went back to Spain, to see if they would speak to me. But when I got to my home my mum closed the door on my face. I tried to reach out in many ways but they won’t talk to me.”

Lucy couldn’t believe how anyone could purposefully hurt the girl in front of her, let alone her own parents. It made her angry but Ona didn’t need that kind of response. She reached out her hand, gently grabbing Ona’s.

“I know we haven’t known each other that long but I am here if you ever wanna talk. Or if you ever just want an ear, I’m all yours.”

Ona smiled at Lucy, she heard everything she had said but mostly ‘I’m yours’ stood out most to her. “Thank you Lucy. I appreciate it.”

Lucy squeezed Ona’s hand, not ever wanting to let go, her hand felt so small and delicate in her own.

“Hi guys we’re closing up now.” The girl from behind the bar shouted loudly.

The last thing she wanted to do was leave Ona now. She wanted to do nothing else then scoop the girl up and hug her until she could smile again, even then Lucy wouldn’t want to let go.

“I guess we better leave.” Ona smiled sadly.

“You hungry?”

Ona nodded. “Starving.”

“Do you like chips?”

Ona nodded again, gaining back a smile.

“Right, come on then. I know the best place.”

——————-

“Okay don’t tell no one but I prefer curry sauce with my chips, and as a northerner that’s a bit of a crime. The northerners prefer gravy, I like both but the curry sauce just tastes so good.”

“I don’t think I’ve had it with chips before.”

“What? Okay, I’m about to blow your mind Battle.”

Ona laughed hard, she loved this excited version of Lucy, it probably was the fact that they were both tipsy and not in the office but it was nice to see the girl relaxed.

They left the chippy with their precious chips in hand.

“There’s a bench nearby if you want to eat there?”

“Yes, let’s do that. I want to give my full attention to your curry sauce.” Ona giggled.

“Thats what I like to hear. It’s just five minutes from here. It’s worth the walk.”

Ona followed Lucy down the coberrly streets of London. She watched as some business men stumbled into a black cab as they passed a posh looking restaurant.

They came to a busy road, with a few more pubs and bars lining the street. She felt Lucy link her arm into hers as she guided them easily through the crowds. Her heart skipped three beats from the simple gesture, just like it did in the pub when Lucy took her hand.

“Just down here.”

They got to a dark stair case leading down, Ona followed the older women, she would follow her anywhere at this point, no questions asked.

And as they got down the steps she saw why Lucy brought her here.

It was the perfect skylight of London. Ona had lived in London for nearly 5 years. She had seen the skylight in many different ways. Different times of the day, different seasons, different angles but this was the prettiest she’d ever seen it.

“Wow! It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah.” Lucy was looking at Ona. Agreeing with both views.

“I come here sometimes when I need to think. Or just needing some time alone. Come sit.”

They sat on the bench facing the Thames, the lights of London lighting up the sky.

“Right, get your chip and dip.”

Lucy held out the curry sauce.

Ona dipped a thick chip in the sauce, she already liked the smell of it, so she hoped she’d like it. And she did, she loved it.

“Oh wow, that’s so good.” She dipped another chip.

“Yes! I knew you’d like it. Get in.”

Lucy dipped her own chip then, a satisfactory smile on her face.

Ona watched the girl, smiling at her. There was something about Lucy, something that seemed like a comfort that she had known before, a comfort she hadn’t felt in years.

The girls spoke about random things, laughing at the one another as they ate their chips.

Once they had finished their food a comfortable silence settled between them.

Until Ona yawned.

“Yeah, it’s late. Where are you from here? We can maybe share an Uber” Lucy picked up her phone.

“I’m in Battersea.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened. “I’m in Wandsworth. Nearly neighbours.”

Ona loved the thought of them being so close. She couldn’t help but wonder if Lucy would ever meet up with her on a weekend.

Ona gave Lucy her address for the Uber.

“Cool, they’ll be here in two minutes.”

They walked to the pick up destination, both suddenly quiet. It felt like neither girl wanted the night to end.

The Uber picked them up, both girls jumping in the back. It was at least a 20 minute drive to get home, so Ona grabbed the aux cord.

She put on Rosalía - BESO. Lucy turned to her smiling. The older brunette began to sing perfect Spanish like it was nothing. Ona’s mouth fell open in complete surprise.

“What? You can speak Spanish?”

Lucy laughed at the girls shock. “Yeah a little bit.”

She didn’t know why but it turned Ona on to know Lucy could speak Spanish, not just Spanish but Catalonian, it was hot.

The girls sang mostly to Rosalia all the way. Lucy was first the be dropped off. She turned to Ona.

“Night Ona. I’ll see you Tuesday.”

“Lucy wait, I should have your number.”

“Oh yeah, you should. Pass it here.”

Ona handed her phone and Lucy put her number in it, she called her phone to save Ona’s.

“Text me when you’re in please.”

“I will.” Ona smiled at the older women.

Lucy slid out the car and walked towards her home. Ona and the Uber driver watched as she walked into her house.

As soon as Ona got in she texted Lucy to tell her she was home.

Ona - Hola! I’m home. I owe you for the ride x

Lucy replied instantly .

Lucy - don’t worry about it x

Lucy - actually you can pay me back by making better teas 🤔 x

Ona - Fine! I’ll do better! I’ll make your tea better then you do for yourself 💪 x

Lucy laughed to herself.

Lucy - hmmm bit confident, we’ll see x

Ona - got to be confident in yourself 💅🏼 thank you for a good night Lucy, I really enjoyed myself xx

Lucy - you’re right! And you’re welcome, I really enjoyed myself too. And always here if you need a chat xx

Ona - thank you Lucy ❤️ good night xx

Lucy - good night xx

#woso soccer #women’s football #woso #woso community #lucy bronze #woso fanfics #ona batlle #alternate universe #woso couples #woso imagine

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eepyuii · 6 months

Text

frostbite — pt. 2

pairing ; childe x gender neutral!reader

content ; childhood friends to “rivals” to lovers, slowburn-ish

cw ; swearing, a LOT of canon archon quest yappery (sorry)

note ; part two baybee!! in comparison to the ao3 version of this, i’ve decided to merge the chapters two by two to make them seem longer and since so far, i’ve only written five- next one might take a little longer to come out. or maybe i’ll just post chapter 5 stand-alone, who knows

also i’ve got a taglist now!

previous | next | masterlist

your arrival in liyue harbor goes less than stellar.

the port is packed full of people who are either confused or outraged at the line of millelith soldiers who refuse to let anyone through. you end up waiting in a line for an annoying amount of time, up until you’re finally attended to by a soldier.

“i’m sorry but liyue harbor is not accepting in any tourists, we are trying to keep our… current situation under control as best we can while investigations are still in order, i hope you can understand.” the millelith states formally.

“oh, well err- i’m no tourist, i was born in liyue harbor! my parents migrated from overseas many years ago and i was just on a leisurely trip to snezhnaya, haha…” you lie through your teeth.

the mere mention of snezhnaya sets off the most minute reaction in the millelith solider, hence why you’re under a fake identity to begin with. you politely hand him a folder with forged documents so gracefully provided to you by your employers and pray to your lucky stars- and, well, tsaritsa, that it’s good enough for him to let you pass.

the soldier remains neutral for a few seconds as he eyes through the paper.

“very well. but please behave in an orderly fashion inside the city, as i said the trail on the ahem- incident is still fresh. welcome home.”

it takes a lot out of you not to snort at the welcome.

the poor naïve man truly wasn’t lying- the inside of the harbor was just as tumultuous as the outside. people in the streets gather in small groups and anxiously whisper their worries to each other. but most of all, they eye you suspiciously like you were the one to stab a sword through rex lapis with the entire harbor watching. you’d say they’re within reason to do so, losing their protector god and all.

you wouldn’t call yourself the most devoted of subjects but you’d also hate to imagine a snezhnaya without the tsaritsa so… benevolently

watching over it. challenging the heavenly principles like she has would certainly cause a catastrophic bite in the ass for the nation if she were to perish. maybe you could be a devoted subject enough to prevent that from happening.

drowning in a whirlpool of your own thoughts, you don’t even realize you’re already standing in front of the northland bank branch of liyue harbor. you try to walk inside as discreetly as possible, so as to not raise any suspicion toward you from the millelith or civilians and to not disturb the workers inside the bank.

unfortunately your efforts are in vain, because you’re recognized immediately.

“ah, sergeant y/n! we were expecting that you would arrive soon. please, allow me to take care of your luggage.” calls out the receptionist, ekaterina.

not only does she practically announce your arrival, she does it while the very bane of your existence is present in the main hall of the bank, formerly distracted as he spoke to a blonde woman in the strangest garments you’ve ever seen and a uh… floating baby?

childe’s ears, no- his entire body, almost instinctively perk up at the mention of your name and he abruptly stops his sentence midway through to look over to the entrance, to you.

“y/n? what in the name of the tsaritsa are you doing here?” he inquires, eyebrows furrowed with the purest of confusions. that is until he remembers the traveler and paimon are still present and most definitely more perpexled than he is.

so he decides to save face before anything else.

“missed me too much?” childe adds cockily.

your eyes almost roll on their own accord. “whatever you’d like to tell yourself. unfortunately, they decided to station me here to help… stabilize the situation, surely that has nothing to do with you screwing up?”

he scoffs. “there’s been nothing to screw up. in fact, the situation is plentiful under control and we’ve already devised a plan to solve it. your intrusion is unneede-”

“wh- you big liar! we literally met after you kicked a bunch of millelith butt in broad daylight! we’ve been stumbling up and down these past few days just to clear our names.” the floating baby speaks up.

you cock your head to the side at the revelation with curiosity and just a smidgen of smugness.

“and you! don’t think just because paimon likes making fun of childe doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. we heard what the lady called you, you’re fatui just like mr. pants-on-fire over here. just who are you anyway?!” the floating baby glides over to you with an accusatory finger pointed and a suspicious squint to her eyes.

the blonde woman, who’s been radio silent this entire time, merely puts a hand on the floating one’s shoulder to pull her back, though she also looks wary of you.

childe laughs at the display and holds out a formal hand as to introduce you. “traveler, paimon, this is y/n, my.. coworker as you can obviously tell. don’t worry though, they’re not a bad guy or kind of a bad guy like me, you have nothing to worry about. they’re actually an amazingly talented battle medic and head nurse of the fatui, that’s why they carry the sergeant title.”

you’re taken aback for a brief moment at the unexpected praise. you were waiting for just a formal introduction of your position in the fatui, or even one that contained a little snarky comment about your attitude towards him. but no, he only complimented your talents. it’s almost a little too courtly too.

“y/n, this is the traveler and paimon. these two not from around here but they unfortunately managed to land right in the bullseye of the incident and are being considered murder suspects. i’m merely helping them clear their names.”

ah, there’s the kicker. he’s “helping” those two.

you know childe well enough to comprehend that he wouldn’t just help some strangely dressed bystanders if he didn’t think he could snake his way into benefit, in this case most likely the geo gnosis. that’s why he’s trying to make somewhat of a good image for himself and those associated. conniving bastard.

then again, takes one to know one.

“so it’s true then, rex lapis is dead.” you hum. “but why has the millelith jumped to the conclusion that it was a murder so quickly? what exactly happened in the rite of descension?”

“weeell, the ceremony was starting just fine and dandy when suddenly the sky got unusually dark and then- bam! thunder strikes and this huge amber dragon drops dead from the sky.” paimon explains dramatically before shivering.

“eugh… really gave paimon the heebie-jeebies… then, the tianquan went over to examine the body and immediately announced it was a murder.”

“interesting.. did the dragon seem to have any visible injuries? any slashes or punctures? weapons sticking out of his body?”

“it’s tricky to say, as i was just relaying onto the traveler before you arrived, the qixing have long since confiscated the exuvia and are refusing to let anyone see it.” childe joins in, looking down pensively with a hand on his chin.

“it feels too early to draw any conclusions but paimon can confidently say it was not us and our names are squeaky clean! either way, we should get going- we’ve done so much walking up mountains since we got here and it’s making paimon famished.”

“see, you keep saying that but you still float, paimon-“ you hear the traveler say as the pair turns to leave.

“oh shush, you!!”

the air between the remaining two of you is thick with awkwardness. you decide to be one to break it once the traveler and paimon are well away from earshot.

“so, how will your charitable little side quest tie into getting the gnosis?”

“hah, you’ve barely arrived and you’re looking so far ahead?”

“aren’t you? in fact, didn’t you say you’d already ‘devised plan to solve it’ and that my presence was ‘unneeded’?” you question, accentuating the quotings in your sentence with a less than half-assed impression of childe’s own pesky tone at the time.

“jeez, i do not sound like that-“

“not the point-“

“yes yes, whatever… for the record i do already have a plan.” he admits. “unfortunately for you, doc, it is a bit airtight and therefore- your interference is unneeded.”

“y’know what, you’re right. if someone like you is describing their plans as airtight then maybe it’s best if i stay out of its splash zone.” you bite back and childe scoffs.

“who even ordered you be sent here?”

the malicious grin grows on your face with haste.

“the jester.”

“wha-?! argh, that old man…”

—

“ekaterina?”

“yes- how may i help you, sergeant?”

“what would be your recommendations for restaurants ‘round here?”

evening was nearing and you could feel the emptiness eating at your stomach from the inside. the few days that had passed of your stay in liyue were remarkably unremarkable. half of your time was spent cooped up in northland bank with diplomatic or medical paperwork while the other half was you doing whatever discreet investigation inside the city that you could, up to little avail.

childe was moving forward with his scheming while effectively keeping you completely in the dark from it- well not completely, as he wasn’t the only stubborn one out of the two of you. some intel about his flawless, artful plan had “slipped out” (meaning you pried it out of ekaterina) and come to your knowledge- for example, today he’d be going out to meet with the traveler and paimon for another meeting with one of his… contacts, he called it. you just didn’t know where.

luckily your source of discovering that had just walked through the door.

“welcome, friend of childe! and congratulations on the first day of your illustrious career with the fatui.” ekaterina greets formally and you’re too late to stop yourself from visibly cringing.

“i have no intention of joining the fatui.” the traveler says curtly.

“you sound remarkably sure of yourself… remember, we are mere mortals- our ideas are fluid like water. only the tsaritsa truly has a will as solid as permafrost.”

you huff at the receptionist’s straightforwardness.

“i’m sure we can maintain.. beneficial connections without anyone signing away their names. why don’t we keep to the matter of this visit?” with a slightly forced business smile, you try to ease the traveler’s stone-like expression. thought, if you were in her shoes you believe you’d react much the same.

and you would sure as hell never recommend for someone to join the fatui.

“hm, yes, back to the matter at hand- childe tells me that he has upheld his end of your agreement.”

“what agreement? ..oh, the thing about him helping us find a guy?” paimon inquires.

“correct. childe promised he would find someone to break the stalemate. and harbingers do not break their promises lightly.”

this time you succeed in internalizing your reaction to the comment- from your personal experience, childe did not exactly fit that concept. but there was no time for dwelling on that now.

“ah, where is that guy anyway?”

“childe is currently at liuli pavilion.”

bingo.

“liuli pavilion?” you ask.

“oh, oh! paimon knows this one!” paimon exclaims, proceeding to give an insight of the rival cooking styles of liyue and you almost admire how dedicated she is to liking food so… academically. you’re half zoning out at their conversation when your stomach traitorously growls for all ears to hear.

“hey, y/n, why don’t you join us? you’re a friend of childe’s too afterall!” the floating guide propositions naively.

“ah err… i-i wouldn’t describe it like that, plus, i wasn’t invited to this meeting. i’d hate to intrude.” you try to wave it off. while this could be your current best chance at receiving more context on their investigation, you’d rather not do it where childe would catch onto you.

“well it won’t hurt to ask him! c’mon, at least walk with us, you’ll have to find a place to eat anyway.” paimon drags you by the sleeve out of northland bank, along with the traveler, with unexpected strength in her grasp.

the streets are bustling with people, walking back and forth as they also step out to guarantee themselves some dinner. the crowd covers the sight of liuli pavilion’s entrance and it’s not until you’ve actually arrived that childe sees you.

he looks no less than befuddled.

“aha, y-you’ve made it…” he laughs awkwardly, clearly not expecting the current situation to ever occur. “care to explain the plus one?”

“they’re just that! they were also looking for a place to eat so we invited them to join us.” paimon contextualizes, oblivious to the silent glare battle taking place between the two of you.

“w-well anyhow-“ childe effectively retreats from the as promised, i’ve found someone who can help you. someone who can solve the mystery of why the liyue qixing would hide the geo archon’s vessel.”

“so.. where is he? in liuli pavilion?”

“he certainly is. come, i’ll… introduce you.” he intends to sound cheerful but the last part of his sentence comes out the smidgen most strained as his eyes flicker to you momentarily.

“i took the liberty of setting up a business dinner, as per liyue custom.”

the traveler and paimon walk ahead and get distracted with the warm welcome of the restaurant’s staff while you and childe try not to jump to an argument then and there.

“trust me, i resisted this impromptu invite as much as i could.” you mutter, preferring to look at the surroundings rather than the harbinger beside you.

“good, because you won’t be joining anyway.” he replies coldly as he starts walking inside ahead of you.

“at least let me see the damn restaurant first, maybe i won’t join your table but that doesn’t mean i won’t eat there.”

“how will i know you’re not listening in on our busine-“

“childe? y/n? c’mon, let’s get to our table!” paimon calls out from further into the pavilion.

as you round to the reserved table, you see a brown-haired man in refined amber clothing seated at the far end of it, tea in hand. somehow you think you’ve seen him before but only out in the streets, perhaps at third-round knockout listening to the storyteller at the front tables.

“yes yes, i’m here.” childe steps up, half-sheepish at his late arrival. “unfortunately, y/n won’t be joining us as they have other matters to attend to.” he says like you’re not standing right beside him.

“really? but y/n didn’t say anything, plus, they seemed like they were awfully hungry-“

“forgive the intrusion but, childe, might this be the same y/n you’ve mentioned before?”

the man at the table joins in and childe looks like he’s promptly died on the spot. you, however, look elated at the revelation.

so elated that you don’t see the flush of red that plagues childe’s face and ears.

“why yes, i might just be.” the grin on your face seems only friendly to the other three and only the harbinger feels it’s real sting of triumph.

“then, please, let us all eat together.”

you all waste no more time to do so, childe sits on the man’s right, you sit beside him while the traveler and paimon mirror you on the other side- well, paimon at least floats on top of the chair.

“allow me to introduce mr. zhongli, consultant to an organization known as wansheng… and a trusted associate of the fatui.”

“wansheng?” the traveler asks.

“indeed.” the redhead answers. “wansheng’s line of work can be… sensitive at times. let’s just say they understand when discretion is needed. and we, the fatui, have always been glad to do business with friends who walk in the shadows.”

“w-walk in the shadows..?” paimon shivers.

“it is an honor to meet you. i have heard tell of you from mondstat.” zhongli turns to you. “you as well, doctor, i have been meaning to arrange for us to meet ever since hearing word of you from childe.”

you’re pleasantly surprised by him calling you doctor for a moment, as no one has ever really referred to you in such a respectful manner. sure, childe and others have called you “doc” playfully but never fully doctor.

and then you remember who the title is usually reserved for.

“discretion… shadows… ah! is wansheng some kind of business involving… ‘dealing’ with people?” paimon panics.

“indeed. it is as you have guessed.”

“ahh!!” she screams.

“don’t worry, wansheng is a funeral parlor.” you assure her amusedly and paimon’s fear shifts to confusion.

zhongli cluelessly nods in affirmation. “the wansheng funeral parlor organizes burials. we ensure that those who pass on do so in peace.”

“e-eh?”

you hear childe laugh warmly from beside you, the warmest you’ve heard from him in years. “did you think he was some sort of hired killer? the fatui calls many such people friends, but the wansheng funeral parlor does not dabble in such business… well, ostensibly.”

“ostensibly?” you question.

“well, they are still- ah, i shouldn’t say too much. in any case, i brought you to meet mr. zhongli because…”

“because i can bring you to see rex lapis’ vessel.” the consultant follows up plainly.

“what?!” exclaims paimon.

“ha, don’t be so surprised. sure, the geo archon’s body has been squirreled away by order of the tianquan ningguang… but first, let’s hear what mr. zhongli has to say, shall we?”

how childe managed to hide such a supposed fatui associate, an insanely useful one at that, from you with all the snooping around you’d been doing is beyond your mortal comprehension. what baffles you even more is his unwavering determination to keep you as far away from the entire operation as possible, going against the order of your involvement that came directly from not only dottore, the very second fatui harbinger, but also the director of all of the fatui himself.

unfortunately you’ll still need to wait until zhongli preaches his tale before you get to strangle childe where he stands.

“rex lapis may be the prime of adepti, but he is ultimately an adeptus. many adepti have left us over the millennia- this is the inexorable trend.”

zhongli turns to the traveler. “the times have changed- you must have felt it too when you were at jueyun karst.” with the travelers confirmation, he continues. “as you have seen, the time of adepti is ending, and the time of mankind is slowly dawning.”

the dinner proceeds with talks of the rite of passing and as the traveler and zhongli become more well acquainted, they all agree to leave liuli pavilion and further discuss their arrangements.

“you can go if you want to, don’t worry about me. i might just have a few more drinks…” childe dismisses the two travelers.

“and me also. somebody needs to teach a certain other someone how to use chopsticks if we’re to stay in liyue for a good while.” you imply half-jokingly, grateful that the two get on their way quick so you can give the redhead beside you an exclusive earful.

as you feel your cheeks start to warm with the burn of the alcohol, you down decisively the last one of your drinks for the night and slam the cup on the table with vigor.

“am i some sort of joke to you?”

childe almost chokes on his own beverage at the suddenness. “e-excuse me?”

“actually no, let me rephrase that- do you think it’s funny to play around with the job i’ve been assigned here and purposefully leave me to wander around streets i don’t know like a bumbling idiot while you keep contacts like mr.fucking-rex-lapis-historian under your belt?” you practically bark.

“y/n, please, i think you might’ve drank too mu-“

“answer the question or so help me celestia, i will leave this restaurant with my hands as red as that stupid scarf of yours.”

the harbinger huffs. “alright alright! no i don’t think it’s funny to do… all of what you said. but i don’t think that’s fair- this is my mission and it’s been running smoothly since before you even got here. at least i thought it was until they decided to send more manpower with zero forewarning, do you know how insulting that is?”

“how is it insulting to have backup in case something goes wrong? that’s all i’m here for- to help, and ideally help with the investigation. but i can’t do that if i don’t know where the hell jueyun karst is, much less where else to go to look for clues.”

childe only sighs again, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingertips. “you’re right… i shouldn’t alienate you from what’s your assignment too. but let me keep up with my plan for now and if something goes awry, i’ll call you. i’ll fill you in on it tomorrow morning.”

you nod firmly- easier than you thought it’d be.

“now will you please teach me how to use these damned sticks?”

taglist ; @kentply

#childe x reader #childe x y/n #childe x you #childe tartaglia #childe genshin x reader #tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x y/n #tartaglia x you #childe tartaglia ajax #childe imagines #tartaglia genshin impact #childe genshin impact #genshin impact fic #genshin fic #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x you

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ktficworld · 1 year

Text

Loving you is not easy, my dear

Pairing: Steve Rogers x desi!reader

Summary: America thinks Steve Rogers can do better and maybe, they are right.

Warning: heavy racism(seriously, I'm not using this word lightly), angst, hurt/comfort, trolling, protective!Steve, reader gets her revenge on the racist bastards 😈

A/n: posting after so long. Already know traction is going to be shit but I'd really appreciate if you reblog this. I'll try to keep it short(I failed💀)

Tags: @sunshine-on-my-mind @slutty-daddy-pedro

This wasn't supposed to happen.

You weren't ready to get dragged through the mud just yet.

You and Steve have been dating for a year. You were a regular software engineer. Wandering around on the internet, to help fellow programmers with their problems. Little did you know, that none other than Tony Stark was there for help under the disguise of 'toiletdistroyer'; frankly, you should have known by this username, but oh well.

So, you caught the billionaires eye and he offered you a job on the spot. And of course, you took it, much to your parents dismay and happiness. With tears filled in your eyes and aachar, parathe stuffed in your tiffin. Of you went to America.

You didn't meet the captain for a good month and honestly, even if you had. You wouldn't have given two fucks about him since you were stressed to the brim with work and moving in.

You slowly met every avenger. Tony was the first, of course. Then it was Bruce Wayne Banner as you worked on the technical part of a bio-tech project he was developing. He was good but was shy and mostly kept to himself. Afterwards followed, Natasha, she was sassy and perfect. You liked talking to her about girl shit and somehow, she took a liking to your weird ass and you befriended black widow.

Next up, was his best friend. Bucky. He caught you wandering outside the stark building because you came too early and so he joined you and the birds chirping. He was cute and funny, but not your type. Thankfully, he wasn't interested and quickly friend zoned him.

Then you met him.

You whistled as you sauntered into the lobby. Clocking out early from your shift and cherry on top, it was Friday. You were going to have a fun weekend. Talking with your parents, watching kdrama and being gleefully single.

Your whistle was disturbed by something squashy yet hard coming underneath your foot. You retreated your foot and glanced down with furrowed brows. It was a brown leather wallet. With a sigh, you bent down and picked up the lost wallet.

You opened the wallet to see the identity of the abandoned wallet's owner and your eyebrows disappeared into you hairline as the stupidly handsome face of the captain appeared in front of you. He must have dropped it in a hurry.

Your eyes darted around as you bit your bottom lip. The sane thing to do would be to go to the reception, hand her the wallet and go your merry way. But he might still be around and also, the receptionist looked too bitchy for you to deal with. So you went for the less sane option, of course.

You took a deep breath and glanced up at the ceiling. "Hey, Friday. Is Captain Rogers still in the compound?"

"Yes, miss. Shona. Captain Rogers is in the parking lot." The robotic voice of Friday said from above.

"Thank you, Friday." You said and deeply sighed. Yes, you could do it. No need to be nervous. What if he's Captain America? You ain't a criminal. With that peep talk, you rushed to the parking lot.

You almost tripped while trying to find Steve in the parking lot but in the end, you found him. He was swinging his leg to climb on his bike when you shouted to get his attention.

"Captain Rogers! Captain Rogers!" The man stopped mid-way, setting his foot back on the ground as he turned around and you almost died at the sight of him. He was wearing blue jeans, white T-shirt and blue jacket, making his sapphire eyes pop as some blonde hair strands falling over his forehead. Oh, girl. Get a grip on yourself!

He was startled by your incessant shouting as he looked at you with his doe yet alert eyes. "Yes, miss. How can I help you?" He asked, ever the gentleman and you internally sighed in relief that he didn't call you ma'am.

You waved his wallet and said. "Your wallet. I think you dropped in the lobby."

His eyes widened as he patted his pockets and a sheepish look appeared on his face. "Ah, I think I really dropped it. Sorry." He said and walked up to you.

You gave him his wallet with a smile and bit your lip when your hands touched. Fuck, were you on your pms?

You peered at him through your lashes as he checked the insides of the wallet and promptly shoved it in his jeans back pocket.

He glanced at you and with a shy smile, said. "Thank you, miss."

"Oh, no problem. You can call me shona." You didn't know what divine energy of confidence came over you as you extended your hand for Steve to shake.

Steve looked at you funnily but shook your hand nonetheless. "That's not your real name, is it?" He asked timidly after the handshake, his touch lingering on your hand as you unwittingly savoured the feeling.

You beamed at him and shook your head. "Nope."

"Then, what is it?"

You told him your name and the smile on his dashing face faded away as he looked down. You could not blame him, most people had the same reaction and that was why you gave your nickname, not actual name.

"I'll probably butcher that." He muttered sadly as he scratched the back of his neck.

You chuckled and waved off his concerns. "It's alright. Most people can't say my name. Only few special people have made it into a special group who can pronounce it outside India." And it was true. Only few people were able to say your name without getting their tongue twisted, including Natasha.

Steve raised an eyebrow. He bent down, close to your face and whispered, in a husky voice. "And what are the requirements?"

You hummed as you pretend to think with your finger on your chin and said, dramatically. "A lot of dedication and practice."

Now it was his turned to be amused as he leaned even closer and asked. "And what will I get if I get into this special club?"

You were caught off guard as you spluttered out. "Um, what do you want?" And you also had kdramas to binge for fuck sake.

"A dinner sounds good." He said with a lopsided grin.

You gave him a thumbs up and said. "Perfect! Now I need to go. I have a weekend to enjoy, bye." You said and rushed out without a second thought or glance at Steve.

When you sat down in the metro was the time when your dumb mind actually processed his words and you froze In your seat. Wait! Did he just ask you on a date?

He did, in fact, ask you on a date.

After he learned to say your name. You two went on a date and you knew you were doomed. Those blue eyes had effectively captured your heart as you slowly fell for him.

And who won't? He was so soft, affectionate, caring, supportive. He was perfect. You didn't know what he saw in you. You were so... Regular.

But whenever you would say this to him. He would look at you all offended and ask why not? You were beautiful, intelligent and his sunshine. And you melted everytime he said that.

You told your parents and you had to make your mother take an oath that she won't say anything about your relationship to any of your relatives as she just couldn't stop giggling. Thankfully, she kept her oath.

You also officially got introduced to the avengers. Bucky and Natasha already knew about it and everyone was happy for you and Steve. Yeah, Tony did throw a tantrum about how he didn't figure out your budding romance and how Rogers whisked you away from under his nose. His words, not yours. And he also earned a slap to the chest by Pepper for that.

You both decided to keep your relationship private. Steve did not want to make a circus of his relationship in the media and you also wanted to lay low. You wanted to take the Katrina Kaif route, one day you're single and the next day, poof! You are married.

But the Cosmos had another plan.

You didn't know who it was, a reporter or a fan. But someone captured you and Steve in a not so platonic way. You were sitting on his bike, one hand occupied with an ice cream and the other, draped over his board shoulder. He was holding you by the waist as you both kissed. Ice cream long forgotten as you both were smiling into the kiss. But someone had posted it on social media and overnight your very private relationship was in front of the entire world to judge ans comment about.

You woke up to a cold bed and your phone exploded with texts and calls, ranging from judgmental relatives to your friends from India and America to the entire avengers team.

You furrowed your brows at the slew of messages and calls and decided to call Steve but instead his phone blared in your shared room, making you sigh. What the fuck was going on?

You scrolled through your contacts and paused when Natasha's name appeared. You hovered over her number hesitantly before calling her. Just after two rings, she answered.

"Hello, Natasha. What is going on and where is Steve?" You asked her in a sleepy voice and scratched your head.

On the other side of the line, Natasha sucked in a sharp breath and replied with unusual franticness. "Shona, somebody leaked a photo of you two and now the world knows that you both are in a relationship. Steve's in the living room, come here quickly and don't open your social media!" Natasha cautioned.

"Wha-" You didn't even get a chance to comprehend her words before she hang up the call. You glance at your phone incredulously. You sat up straight when your brain finally processed the given information. Your relationship was public. Your Katrina Kaif moment was ruined even before it materialised, ugh! So unfair.

And telling you not to open your social medias? It was like telling a child not to eat the candies from the jar. You bit your lip and opened the hellhole called twitter. And the number one trending hastag was:

#CaptainAmericaisdatingwho?

You tapped on the hastag and was instantly greeted by the picture of you and Steve. Your eyes widened as you took in the picture, whoever clicked it had good photography skills as you looked decent in it. You scrolled down and made a decision you would later come to regret, started reading the reactions of the people.

He is dating an Indian? Why? Did he not find any good girl in here? Insane.

If they have a child, what would be their skin color?

She probably put him under a spell or something.

Wait! She works for Stark, meaning this is a work-place relationship. Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

Captain America is taken😭😭😭 why God! Now I need to find someone else to obsess over😭😭😭

Look how she's eating. Like, get some manners girl! 👇

You looked down to the image attached. You were eating rice with your hand and winking at the camera, granted it wasn't the neatest sight but eating food with hands made it taster(yeah, fight me on it!).

That was it, you could not take it anymore. You burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter as you giggled at the comments, doubling down in your bed.

Tears gathered in your eyes as you laughed your ass off on these racists misery. You knew damn well that you would face some form of racism whether you dated Steve or not and it was funny to see them whine like anyone gave a shit.

You scrolled some more laughing at the whiny racist and the memes people made along the way. However, one comment caught your attention as you halted to read it.

Why isn't Steve dating her?

You looked down at the photo and your heart dropped, all your happiness fading away. You stared at the woman's photo for what felt like ages as you observed her porcelain skin, her blonde hair and her perfect figure. She was the epitome of an American woman.

You looked at Sharon's perfect face and could not help but echo the poster's thought. Yeah, why wasn't he dating Sharon? Why was he dating you? A regular girl while he was captain fucking America! He could have anyone he wanted. A model, an actor anyone he wanted and he wanted you? Why?

Much to your detriment, you scroll past it and onto the next comment which said:

So, she's the ugly one in the relationship 🙈🙈🙈

The comment plunged into your soul like a rusted dagger as your breathing becomes a shallow pounding in your ears. You glanced forward, where the full length mirror was sitting and stared at your reflection with critical gaze.

You brought a hand to your face, it was so dull. Your eyes had dark circles and were puffy. Your lips weren't plump enough. Your eyes weren't big enough. Your body wasn't curvy enough. You only had brains. No, you didn't! You weren't special, anyone could do your job with enough practice. You were nothing out of the ordinary.

You were snapped out of your destructive thoughts as your phone was snatched out of your grip. You whipped your eyes to the perpetrator and a very furious Natasha glared back at you.

"What did I tell you about not checking your social media?" Natasha asked, enraged as she waved your phone in her hands.

You didn't want Natasha to be proven right so you scoffed and replied. "Telling someone not to do something will only make them do it more. Haven't you heard of reverse psychology, agent?" You snarked and Natasha shook her head in displeasure.

"You coming with me?" Natasha asked.

You paused to think and then shook your head. "Let me shower first. I feel dirty and sleepy."

Natasha nodded thoughtfully and said. "Okay, I'll stay here."

You whined in protest but quickly shut up after receiving a steely glare fron the black widow which would make even the toughest villians pee their pants. You showered, taking extra long as you got distracted by your thoughts yet again. And made your way to the living room with Natasha in toe.

And you heard it before you saw it. The annoying voice of one of the most famous conservative journalist as he said that Steve Rogers could do much better, that this relationship wasn't going to last and that he wished it won't last long.

The last part made your stomach churn in uncertainty.

The pattering of footsteps alerted the other avengers of your arrival. Tony and Steve were standing next to each other as they talked in hushed yet aggressive tone.

Tony looked annoyed than ever as he rubbed the bridge of his nose. While, Steve? Steve looked like just one poke and he would snap. His jaw was clenched, his eyes were ablaze as he stood taut.

Both of the man's gaze snapped towards you as Steve's face softened and he rushed towards you, blocking your view to the TV as Tony hastily turned it off.

"You finally done sleeping, sleepy head?" Steve asked affectionately as he caressed you cheek.

You hummed absentmindedly and forced a smile on your face. "Slept like a baby." You said and the air was so thick with tension that it was strangling you more than your own mind as no one dared to talk about the elephant in the room.

Eventually, Steve cleared his throat and said in a whisper. "You already know what happened but don't worry, I'm with you." And pulled you into his embrace. Yes, why are you with me, Steve? What do you like in having to deal with all this drama when you could date any white woman and keep the peace?

You tried to reciprocate his hug but it was a half hearted attempt as you were fixated onto something else.

"Yeah, don't do anything stupid." Sam said when you and Steve parted. His face was empathic and knowing and your heart broke at that. Still, you gave him a half smile.

"Hey! That's my line!" Bucky yelled in offence, making Sam scowl at him.

"You don't own a sentence, Buchanan." Sam countered.

"Don't call me that and I would copyright..." They kept bickering but you tuned them out as the seed of doubt started sprouting in your consciousness.

📷

But it only got worse. The hate just didn't stop and everyone was piling up on you. Indians did come to your defence, questioning the racism and the unrequited hate you were getting.

But some were also interrogating you. Why were you dating captain America? Why were you flying so high? That he may just be using you and would leave you for an American sooner or later. This sentiment was also shared by your relatives.

Your parents were on your side but you could sense that seeing you get attacked was upsetting them. You put up a brave face in front of the world but you were crumbling down from the depths of your being. You were falling down an abyss and no matter how hard you shouted for help, your mind didn't let up its torment.

You didn't tell the avengers or Steve because they was already so stressed out dealing with all this fiasco. He was so distraught that he didn't even notice you withdrawing from him. He didn't notice how you slept on the edge of the bed instead of in his arms. He didn't notice that you avoided mirror like a plague. He didn't notice how you were drowning in your minds stupid tricks.

That was until it boiled over.

It was a quiet evening. You were walking back to the compound after running some errands. Apparently, Indian species were hella expensive and hard to find in there so you shopped for them by yourself. And it was also because you liked these non-eventful and tranquil moments that you had reserved for yourself.

You were absentmindedly trudging forward as the compound just entered your peripheral when a shout jolted you out of your trance like state.

"Go back to your country!"

You whirled around, only to come face-to-face with a regular white man. Seriously, he didn't even look like a Kevin or intimidating, just run of the mil white guy, very easy to blend in the crowd.

You raised your eyebrows and exclaimed. "Excuse me?"

The man tutted and took a step forward, you taking a backward step. "Didn't you hear me? I said, go back to your country."

"This is getting old. Try something new." You said with a bored voice and crossed your arms on your chest.

"Seriously, first you take our jobs then resources and now our hero? Just because you don't have anything in your country, doesn't mean you should come running to us and mooch off of us." He ranted with a grunt.

"Why? You wanna date him?" You eyed him from head to toe. "To my knowledge, Steve is straight and even if he wasn't. I don't think he would date someone like you." You snided.

His jaw ticked as he took a step forward. "You don't deserve him!" He spat.

Yes, you don't deserve him. Your mind supplied as your grip around the shopping bag loosened.

"He deserves better." Yes, he deserved better.

"You are nothing." Yes, you were nothing.

You were so hypnotised by your minds scorching affirmations that you didn't see the approaching threat.

You yelped as your back hit an electric poll, grocery bag falling on the ground. The man lunging forward for an attack but before he could even lift his hand, a punch from his left side shoved him away and he landed on the ground with a pained grunt.

You let out a shuddery breath as you slowly glanced to your left, your whole body trembling with fear. Your eyes landed on Steve standing there, panting heavily as his knuckles were painted crimson, by whose blood? You didn't know. His eyes were ablaze and his face was murderous as he began charging towards the whimpering man on the pavement.

This snapped you from whatever demons were holding you as marched towards him and shrieked. "Steve, stop!"

You stopped in front of him and wrapped youur hands around his. He halted in his steps, his face instantly softening as he unclenched his fists and dropped his offensive stance. He cupped your right cheek and you spluttered out a sob.

You glanced down at his bloody knuckle and coked out. "Steve, let's go."

He glanced behind you at the whining man and then nodded. He tucked you in his embrace while your gaze never left his knuckles. This was all your fault. Because of you, he almost lost control of himself and if he would have done something then you would have also smeared his name. Maybe it was good to end things.

📷

The room was pin-drop silent, only the sniffling of you and Steve and the clinking of the first aid kit being shut closed reverberated through the walls. Steve had started to talk as soon as you left the man writhing on the cold sidewalk but one finger of yours on his lips and he shut up, accepting your silent plea of solace. But you couldn't push back the inevitable any longer.

You lifted up the first aid kit and set it inside one of the cabinets in the bathroom. When you came back, you sat down on the coffee table ahead of Steve and peered at him through your lashes, your heart breaking when your gaze landed at his pretty face. You would miss him.

It was Steve who spoke first. He intertwined his bandaged hand with yours and softly said. "I'm sorry, you are suffering so much because of me and I'm sorry I wasn't able to protect you."

Swallowing, you looked down as tears beaded your eyelashes and muttered out. "I think we should break up, Steve. It's not working out." Saying those words was like stabbing yourself in the chest with a scorching knife.

Steve instantly stiffened and his grip on your hand grew tight as he refused to let you go. "Why?" He asked and before you could reply, his bitter laugh made your head snap upwards as he shook his head.

"Why am I asking this? This should be pretty obvious to me," He sniffled as few tears slid down his cheeks. He glanced at you and you had to bite your lip to hold back your own tears as his pained and misty eyes stared into yours. "Is there nothing I could do to change your mind? To make you give me a second chance? Do you not love me anymore?"

The last part was like a slap to your face as you furiously shook your head and yelled. "I love you with all my heart, body, mind and soul. I love you more than anything in this world, more than I could ever articulate."

"Then why are you leaving me?" He asked in a whisper.

And the flood burst gates open as you broke down. "BECAUSE I DON'T DESERVE YOU."

Steve immediately placed you in his lap as sons wrecked through your body. "Why would you say that? You deserve the world, doll."

"No Steve, no! You are Captain America and I'm nothing. You are gorgeous and I'm ugly. You are perfect and I'm not." You cried into his chest, selfishly seeking his warmth.

Steve jutted your chin upwards and gazed down at you with soft offense. "No, honey. I'm not perfect, I betrayed Tony, I have done so many things that I regret. I have cried in your arms multiple times and you have seen me vulnerable." He said through his own tears.

"But you are so pretty. You should be dating a model or an actress, not me."

"Who like me for being Captain America? No way and," He held your face in his palms and continued. "You are the most beautiful, most intelligent, most amazing woman I have ever met. I won't trade you for anyone."

"Then why I doesn't feel like it, Steve? You asked in a defeated whisper. "Why can't I see myself the way you see me?"

"I can help you look at yourself like I look at you. Please just, don't leave me. I can't live without you. We can survive this storm." He murmured softly kissed your sore eyes.

Your lips quivered as you brought your hands to Steve's face. "I want you, Steve. I want you so much but holding you feels like a sin."

"And holding you feels like a dream. A dream I thought I would never have," He said quietly and gently pressed his forehead with yours. "Just give me another chance. Give us another chance."

"Okay." You replied. Your sobs had ended and draped a heavy blanket of fatigue over you in their farewell as you melted into Steve's hold and Steve snuggled in you more. You didn't know when he placed you on your bed or when you fell asleep in his arms. You let yourself fall into his bliss as all the demons left you. Because in this moment , Steve was yours and you were his and that was all that mattered.

📷

You yawned as you got out of your slumber. The bed was cold again as Steve was nowhere to be found. Again.

Maybe he realised you were right and moved instead of kicking you out. You sniffed a little and turned around, so you were facing the front of your room. But your face instantly scrunched up in bewilderment as you took in the sight.

There were polaroid pictures hanging from the ceiling by a white thread, all facing away from you. You scratched your head as you tentatively got out of the bed. How the fuck did someone hang these and you didn't even stir? Was this from hydra?

The last thought made you gulp as you gingerly reached out for the first picture and pulled it close to read the text written on it with a marker.

Do you remember the time when you handled the toughest project alone?

-Tony

"Huh, what?" Now you were even more confused as you flipped the glossy paper and burst out into a fit of laughter.

It was a picture of you handing Tony a golden toilet trophy like you were handing an Oscar with a megavolt grin as he was rolling his eyes but still, he begrudgingly received the award.

You wiped off a tear from your eye and refocused back on his question. You hummed to yourself as you took a trip down the memory lane. It was a very important biotech project and there had come a point where the connection between the software and hardware had broken and no one could figure why because everything was normal and nothing seemed faculty. It turned out to be a software issue as the code had malfunctioned and needed to be rewritten in a more efficient manner.

You led the team who did that and boy were those days exhausting. Overtime, frustration, failure after failure and of course the moral of the team going down. But you managed to keep the team together and pulled through. Providing excellence.

You smiled a little at that memory. You weren't that useless.

Sighing, you stepped forward to the next picture and read the text on it.

Remember when you got hit on and Steve scowled?

-Natasha and Wanda

You turned the photo around, showing you, Wanda and Natasha. You and Wanda were eating a leftover cake while Natasha was drinking wine straight from the bottle.

You remembered that night. You were minding your own business and not touching alcohol since you didn't want to wake up with a pounding headache. when a guy suddenly materialised next to you and ordered a drink for you without even asking and began flirting.

You smoothly pulled yourself out of that situation and gave the drink to Natasha but Steve had witnessed the whole interaction and he looked like he wanted to sucker punch that poor dude. He was teased relentlessly about it for a month.

Now that you thought about it. You were hit on multiple times on multiple occasions. It was a game of sorts between you and Steve. Since your relationship was private, it was amusing to see people ask you or Steve on a date. You always relished in watching girls flirt with Steve because he would always get uncomfortable and nope out of there like his life depended on it. It was fun because no matter how much they flirted with him, you knew that the man was yours.

You chuckled and caught a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. You weren't that bad looking.

You walked up to the next polaroid and snatched it closer.

Remember when you comforted me when everyone was sleeping?

-Bucky

Your eyes filled with tears as you flicked to see yours and Bucky's image, it was clicked during lockdown when everyone stressed a lot about cleaning everything. You were pretending to sing with a cleaner bottle in your hand as a microphone and Bucky was using a broom as his guitar.

With a reminiscent smile and you thought back to that one stormy night when Steve was out on a mission and everyone was sound asleep.

You being the insomniac that you were started trudging towards the kitchen for some late night snack but stopped mid-way when you heard whimpers coming from Bucky's room. You went inside without asking but saw him crying alone in his bed. He was so resistant to your comfort and even yelled at you for intruding on his privacy: but he was right about it. However, he caved in the end and cried his heart out while you held him. Then you both watched anime and ate chips. Sleep was nowhere to be found that night.

You bit your lips as you went to the last and final picture, that was dangling before the door.

Remember why I love you?

-Steve

You burst into tears as the realisation dawned on you that it was he, who did all of this. To make you see yourself through his eyes and everybody's eyes. And no, you didn't remember why he loved you because there were too many moments and reasons to remember all that once.

Warmth bloomed in your chest as you finally looked at the picture and it was just like your relationship. Sweet and simple. With you both in the bed, hair messy and lazy smiles on your faces. It was a morning selfie that you taken sporadically on his phone.

You loved him. You loved him so much and you wanted to be with him till the end of the line. Because even if you were just a regular jane, you loved him and he loved you and that was all that mattered.

In your whirlpool of emotions, you didn't register the the bedroom door clicking open and Steve walking inside. It was when his strong arms enveloped you, did you got out of your reverie and glanced at him, teary eyed.

You hugged him back and wept louder in his chest as he rubbed your head. "I love you. I'm sorry for telling everyone about what you were going through but I thought it would help, please stop crying."

You slapped a hand over his lips and cried out. "Shut up. You lovely little dork. I love you. You did nothing wrong in my eyes."

With hope twinkling in his eyes, he removed your palm and asked. "So, will you give us another chance?"

"Yes! This one incident won't make my problems go away in a snap but I want to be with you and learn to love myself like you love me." You said through a smile and leaned to kiss him when-

"What about the trolls?" Tony's voice made you shriek in surprise as Steve gave him an exasperated look.

"Really, Tony?" Steve said with displeasure.

"Yeah, really asshole?" Natasha said and slapped Tony on the head.

Tony scrunched up his face in indignation and said. "But I need to know. She's not used to the attention and hate. And she can't even deactivate her social media because she is one of our representatives from tech."

This made a bulb go off in your head as you held up your plam and said. "Don't worry, Tony. I'll have it handled. Plus, we didn't really publicly announced our relationship, did we?"

Steve narrowed his eyes at you but you just grinned at him devilishly. Time to troll the trolls.

📷

You softly closed the bathroom door as you stepped outside, your white saree grazing the floor. You looked ahead and your jaw went slack, Steve was his blue powder blue shirt and black pants and his blonde hair practically glowed in the golden light of the evening. He looked so gorgeous that you just couldn't tear your eyes away from him.

But then you realised his intense stare on you and you quickly looked down, heat raising to your cheeks. "Stop, staring, it's creepy."

Steve let out a throaty chuckle and said. "I can say the same thing about you."

You opened your mouth to reply but the Bucky's exasperated voice interjected with a grunt. "You both can do this later. Now, come on before the sunsets and the light is gone." And harshly thrusted his phone in the direction of the door.

You chuckled. "Alright, let's go." Steve held your hand as you both walked outside the compound and into the evening sun. After, finding a place where the background was greenery instead of a concrete jungle. You perched on his Harley. Your hand snaked around his neck as his came down to rest on your butt while he stood in the middle of your legs and both came forward to kiss each other.

Bucky clicked the picture but Steve didn't let you go until the need for oxygen became dire. You smiled bashfully and wiped your mouth as you finally got off his bike and went to the very unimpressed Bucky.

He shoved your phone into your hands and ran away before he had to endure any of your pda any further.

You shrugged it off and looked at the photo. Thankfully, it was good and you gave Steve a thumbs up before posting it with a caption:

I corrupted the golden boy and I'm not sorry 😈

Steve also posted the same picture but his caption was more modest:

My love ❤

And. It. Blew. Up, again.

The haters and racist started whining again. Sane people supported you both and laughed at the haters, going as far as making memes. You were trending again, many famous people also came out of the woodworks and congratulated you both which made you roll your eyes.

You didn't care about the public thought of you. You wanted to troll the haters and you successfully accompanied that.

However, it didn't end there. As your devil incarnate friends decided to add fuel to the fire by posting pictures of you and Steve being all over each other with a complimentary middle finger emoji. And apparently, everybody had one.

Either you two were pervs Or your friends were nosey as fuck. Natasha and Bucky agreed with the former assumption.

Bucky posted you both kissing on a picnic.

Natasha of you sitting in Steve's lap.

Sam posted a photo of your head resting in his lap.

Heck, even Peter posted a photo where Steve was kissing your temple.

There were many more but you that was enough for the day as you switched off your phone and tossed it on the bed side table.

"I just wish, no pray that my parents don't see any of these pictures or I will be having an interesting phone call with them. The relatives are still blasting my phone but I ignored them as always." You rambled to Steve as he slid under the covers.

Steve let out a raspy chuckle and said. "I don't think they haven't seen it yet as we're all over the, well everything."

You groaned and pouted at Steve because he didn't need to always tell the truth but as soon as you locked eyes with him you melted in his oceanic blue gaze. He pulled you into his comforting arms and you happily obliged.

"Steve, now that the whole mess is kinda resolved. What's next?" You asked as you gazed into his sapphire blue eyes.

He hummed and gazed back at you. "What's next? Good question, but I don't think you want to hear the answer to that. Would ruin the fun. " He whispered and leaned down to kiss you before you could question him further.

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers moodboard #steve rogers x desi reader #steve rogers #captain america x reader #steve rogers x fem!reader #steve rogers x f!reader #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #chris evans #chris evans x desi!reader #chris evans x you #captain america imagines #captain america

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sfehvn · 6 months

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the apprentice

Description: AU- An ambitious criminal justice major undertakes an internship at, arguably, the most noteworthy law firm in the country. Things don't go as she plans, as the title of intern to Astarion Ancunin is synonymous with personal assistant, apparently.

A/N: I've been so all over the place with what I'm working on writing-wise, but this has been deep in my drafts and I figured I'd set it loose. I was reading '30 Days' by Astarionhq on A03 and really took inspiration for my own modern twist on an Astarion/Tav love story. I linked their story above; please check it out! Also my obsession with the whole 'enemies to lovers' trope is totally not apparent, psh. There will be a lot of pining and eventual smut. I'll include content warnings in individual chapters if any apply. Enjoy!

Rating: M (18+ minors DNI)

Word count: 4,595 Characters: au!Astarion x fem!au!Tav

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Beep.

The shrill sound prompted you to pull the heavy comforter over your head, willing away the sunbeams shining obnoxiously through your window. You groan as your hand smacks the wood of the nightstand haphazardly in a desperate attempt to stop the godawful noise coming from the alarm clock. Relief floods your senses as it finally ceases. You close your eyes and are on the precipice of sleep until realization dawns on you.

Fuck.

You had already snoozed the alarm three times prior. Meaning you were going to be royally late. With adrenaline pumping through your veins, you toss the warm blankets off you and bolt from the bed, barely glancing at the clock's LED. You could make out the emboldened numbers through your sleep-recovering eyes.

9:54

“Fuck. Fuck.” It was all that you managed as you darted around the room. In a flurry, you pull a black dress from your wardrobe. Making quick work of pulling off your pajamas, you slip it on hastily and step into your bathroom, carelessly sliding toothpaste over the bristles of your toothbrush before brushing your teeth. You pause, clamping down on the toothbrush with your teeth, bracing it as you lean down to secure the black heels to your feet that had been unceremoniously tossed aside on the bathroom floor the night before. Not typically the type to be late, of course the one time you were just so happened to be on the day that could make or break your professional career.

You push aside the self-berating for the time being as you rinse the paste from your mouth. Not having the time to shower now, you pull your long strands of hair into a high pony, carefully leaving out a few whisps of hair to frame your face. You had managed to make it out of your apartment before the clock struck ten, and hope bubbled in your chest at the thought that you may make this interview after all.

The bus you would have caught was long gone, so you jog the entire way. Juggling your purse, papers that included a resume, pages of references, and your phone to observe the time. You’re well aware of the disorganized mess you must look like as you stand in front of the receptionist’s desk. Chest heaving from the jog there, papers in disarray in your hands, the blonde woman behind the desk eyes you with a passing look of judgment, and the need to crawl into a hole and hide flits through your deflated ego. You give the woman your name, and she types it quickly and efficiently into the computer.

“I’m sorry, miss Tav.” The woman starts, “Mr. Ancunin has an eleven o’clock meeting. Your interview was scheduled for ten thirty. You’re nearly fifteen minutes late.” She looks up at you from her screen, and though she tries to appear sympathetic, the emotion is missing from her eyes. You glance at the clock above her head, stomach sinking to your toes.

10:43

“Right, yes. I completely understand. I had car troubles this morning and had to walk here; you know how crowded these sidewalks are.” You let out an awkward laugh, attempting to gain some level of relatability with the woman. She laughs wryly along with you, causing your face to visibly drop. “Listen, I-I really need this interview.” New approach: honesty. “Is there a later slot? I’d be happy to wait here all day if needed.”

“A lot of people need this interview, miss Tav.” The woman is unfazed by your pleading tone. “Unfortunately, there will be no more slots for this particular internship. The final interviews will occur later today, and Mr. Ancunin is completely booked for six months. It’s safe to say he will have come to a decision by then.”

Your shoulders drop. The sleepless nights of preparing, the references you had compiled from professors and other dignitaries alike, it didn’t matter. While, yes, you could always strive for another internship, Ancunin Associates was an elite law firm. In any case, you would have been guaranteed a job at any firm post-graduation had you completed this apprenticeship.

The woman is eyeing you expectantly, waiting rather impatiently for you to make your retreat. “Miss Tav, I will have to ask you to leave. Mr. Ancunin-“

You can barely hear her anymore as you make out the man passing through the large office. Walking with purpose past the tall, windowed walls overlooking the bustling city many floors below. His unnaturally silver hair is brushed back purposefully, leaving a few curls to swoop and fall over his forehead. Eyes that could only be described as honey pierced forward as if looking right through anyone who stood in his walking path. The finest of tailored suits adorned his figure, a figure you had no doubt was toned to the gods underneath. You recognized him from various news articles; he had been considered one of the most eligible bachelors in the country, after all.

You brush aside your musings, and adrenaline pumps through your veins. “Mr. Ancunin, my name is Tav. I had a ten-thirty interview for the open internship. I recognize I’m severely late, and I apologize, but I swear it is entirely out of character for me. Is there any possible chance I can fit into your schedule later today?”

He halts, staring at you with an indistinguishable look from across the office. You nearly regret speaking up to

him as he scrutinizes you. You can feel those golden eyes of his scanning over you, and you fight the urge to falter under it. You remain unmoving, trying to appear like you belong. His eyes are fixed on your chest for a passing moment, and the need to cover your frame burns through you.

“A bold one, hm?” His tone is teasing, though his face still holds firm. “Late and less than presentable. Does all of your clothing have those stains on them?” He gestures towards your chest, where he had previously been staring. You finally glance down and are met with a small white stain in the center of your chest. You’re sure your cheeks are flushed at this point, but instead of backing down, you shift the papers you held against your bosom, hiding the marred fabric from his eyes. You made a mental note that the next time you found yourself late to an important meeting, perhaps you should ensure toothpaste wasn’t all over you before leaving home.

“Mr. Ancunin, ten minutes of your time is all I need. Please.” He didn’t visibly react to your pleading, and his face remained stone-cold. The silence was deafening. The only sound you could make out was the thudding of your heart against your ribcage.

“Clear my eleven o’clock.” He says simply without addressing you, looking at the blonde woman you had just spoken to. “Come.” His words were firm. He turns on his heel towards the office he had just emerged from, silently expecting you to follow. You quietly breathe a sigh of relief as you oblige. A sleek black desk with an expensive-looking chair sat behind it in the center of the room. He holds out a hand, gesturing to one of the two armchairs in front of the desk, overlooking the large windows behind his chair. You silently obey his command, crossing your legs over one another as you wait for him to speak once more.

There’s a deafening silence as he eyes you, hands folded and resting in his lap once he’s sat down across from you. Mouth opening to speak, you close it when he holds his hand out in a quiet bid for the papers you had been holding. You wordlessly hand over your resume and references, and he scans the pages with an unreadable expression. The quiet stretches, and you fidget nervously in your seat, wishing you knew what was happening in his mind.

Finally, he looks up, those golden eyes locking onto yours. "Tav, is it?" he asks, his tone revealing nothing.

"Yes, sir. And I apologize again for my tardiness. It's not a reflection of my usual professionalism." You reply, trying to maintain a professional composure.

"Hm." He murmurs, leaning back in his chair. "Your credentials are impressive, Tav. Top of your class, stellar recommendations. But I'm curious—what makes you think you can manage this apprenticeship?”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts before responding. "Mr. Ancunin, I understand punctuality is crucial, and I take full responsibility for my tardiness today. However, my dedication, work ethic, and ability to adapt under pressure make me a valuable candidate for this position. I've faced challenges in the past and have consistently proven my commitment to overcoming them. I'm not one to let a setback define my capabilities."

A white eyebrow quirks in response, a smug look on his features. “Clearly. The tired university student you are, I presume you know how to make one hell of a cup of coffee?”

“I-” You start, feeling yourself shrink under his gaze. “Yes.” You murmur, brows pulling together in confusion.

He leans back in his chair, eyes never leaving yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his honey-pooled eyes, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “How about laundry?”

“Mr. Ancunin, no disrespect intended at all, sir-” You start.

“Astarion.” He says flatly.

“What?” Your voice catches in your throat, causing the word to shake as it leaves your lips.

“Call me Astarion.”

“Right, uh, Astarion,” You corrected. “I was hoping for an internship that would assist my legal career in flourishing. I didn’t anticipate I would be a personal assistant.” Your words trail.

Astarion clicks his tongue. “What a shame. I suppose there are many less desirable internships for you to pick from.”

Your mind races as you process the unexpected turn of events. Astarion's gaze remains fixed on you, a challenging glint in his eyes. You weigh your options, considering the potential impact on your career aspirations.

Taking a deep breath, you respond with a measured tone, "Astarion, I appreciate the opportunity to interview for this internship, and I am genuinely passionate about pursuing a legal career. However, I believe my skills and dedication would be best utilized in a legal capacity rather than as a personal assistant. I've worked diligently to excel in my academic pursuits and gain valuable experience in the legal field, and I'm eager to contribute those skills."

He tilts his head, the smirk on his face deepening. "Ambition, I like that. But you see, Tav, I value versatility. A good legal mind is undoubtedly crucial, but navigating the intricacies of the legal world often requires more than just legal acumen. It requires adaptability, resourcefulness, and an understanding of the broader aspects of the business. Consider this a test of your ability to handle the unexpected."

You take a moment to absorb his words, recognizing the challenge he's presenting. The internal debate intensifies within you — compromise for the sake of opportunity or stand firm on your premise. After a brief pause, you choose your words carefully, "I'm eager to prove my versatility and dedication to this role. If this is the path you believe will showcase my abilities, I am open to embracing the challenges it presents."

Astarion's eyes narrow slightly as if assessing the sincerity of your response. "Very well, Tav. We'll start with a trial period. Consider today's events as part of your initiation. Now, as for the legal matters, we'll get to those as the internship progresses. But for now, let's see how you handle some of the more... practical aspects of the job.”

You nod numbly, and you’re confident you look silly sitting there with your mouth slightly ajar from the whiplash of the situation at hand.

Astarion leans back, seemingly satisfied with your response. He gestures for you to follow him once again as he stands, leading you through a maze of offices and hallways in the prestigious law firm. As you walk beside him, you can't help but feel a mixture of anxiety and determination. This internship might not be unfolding as you envisioned, but you're determined to prove yourself in whatever capacity necessary.

The two of you eventually arrive at what appears to be a spacious lounge area, complete with an elegant coffee machine. It's clear that Astarion's definition of versatility extends beyond legal matters.

"Now, Tav," he begins, "We'll start with a simple task. Make me a cup of coffee."

You nod, moving towards the coffee machine. While you might be more accustomed to preparing legal briefs, you're not one to shy away from a challenge. As you navigate the machine's buttons, you glance over at Astarion, who has taken a seat in the lounge area.

The machine whirs to life, and you focus on measuring the coffee grounds and water precisely. A sense of determination fuels your movements. Astarion watches you intently, his unreadable expression giving away little.

Once the cup is filled with the scorching liquid, you reach for the creamer and halt your movements as he speaks again. “Black.” You turn to hand him the mug, seemingly awaiting his approval as he sips from the cup. You fidget with your hands in front of you, eyeing him with the same scrutiny he had watched you with earlier in your encounter.

He does not note on the coffee you had readied for him; instead, he is fishing into his pocket. He pulls out a set of keys, handing them to you. “You are aware of the apartments on Oleander, correct?”

Taking the keys into your hands, you gaze down at them in confusion. Of course, you knew that only the most affluent resided in them. There was a sinking suspicion of where this was going deep in your gut.

“Mine is the penthouse at the very top. You will do my laundry and clean it until it is sparkling. Understood?”

There was a new feeling sated into your bones. Anger. Not to mention the fact that he expected you to go into his home when he was not present. “I don’t feel this arrangement would be very professional.” You fire back, trying to hide the malice dripping in your tone. He was toying with you.

Astarion’s eyes still held that teasing gleam as he spoke. “That’s undoubtedly alright. We have many other candidates coming in later today. I’m sure one of them would be up to the task.”

You close your eyes briefly, taking in a large breath of air in order to keep yourself calm. You open them once more, smiling wryly down at him. “I’d be happy to.” You mutter through gritted teeth.

“Brilliant.” Astarion states, standing from his seated position. He sets the mug down on an end table. “Oh, and do try to improve on your coffee-making abilities. That was rather lackluster.”

How the fuck do you mess up black coffee?

There was no doubt left in your mind about what he was doing. You needed this internship, though, and you were prepared to go to questionable lengths to secure it. “Of course.” You deadpanned, no amusement left on your face. What an arrogant bastard.

“You can keep that set.” Astarion gestured to the keys in your hand. “I expect you’ll be done before I return home. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning.” The smirk never left his smug face as he spoke. He departs the room, surely to whatever big meeting is next on his agenda. Perhaps to terrorize someone else. You’re left standing there, dumbfounded at how wrong this entire day seemed to be going.

As Astarion strides away, leaving you with the keys and the absurd task ahead, a maelstrom of thoughts swirls through your mind. You glance down at the keys in your hand, a symbolic link to the penthouse on Oleander that you are now responsible for. The weight of the situation settles on your shoulders, mixing with the frustration and determination that courses through your veins.

Taking a deep breath, you gather your composure. This might not be the internship you envisioned, but it's an opportunity nonetheless. You remind yourself of the stakes, the prestige of Ancunin Associates, and the potential doors this internship could open. Swallowing your pride, you decide to tackle the tasks ahead with a professional mindset. Even if he was not.

–

You hadn’t anticipated spending your day cleaning some corporate asshole’s million-dollar penthouse, yet here you were. No doubt, he had to have staff for this. So why was it being made your problem? The penthouse wasn’t anything that you weren’t expecting. It looked like it had been taken straight out of a catalog, and it seemed to be missing any warmth. There was nothing hung on the stark white walls, aside from small discreet security cameras tucked into the corners. You wondered briefly if he was watching you and decided he had to be. You were a complete stranger he had sent into his home by yourself. You mutter an expletive quietly, toeing off your heels by the front door. A few dishes are in the sink, and you figure that to be the best place to start.

As you tackle the dishes, the silence of the penthouse is only broken by the occasional distant hum of city life far below. The gleaming surfaces and pristine environment reflect the meticulous nature of the man who owns this place. You can't shake the feeling that every move you make is being observed by Astarion himself or by the unassuming security cameras.

While you scrub away at the plates, your mind replays the unusual turn of events. How did a promising legal internship morph into a personal assistant role with a side of housekeeping duties? The anger you felt towards the man came back in full force. You were well aware that you were being taken advantage of, but the need to prove yourself to Astarion gnawed at you either way.

Think of the years of schooling, Tav. Of who you plan to be after graduation. You silently reminded yourself.

As you navigate the unfamiliar kitchen, you spot a sleek tablet on the countertop. It seems to control various aspects of the penthouse – lights, temperature, and security. You make a mental note to familiarize yourself with it, realizing that understanding the intricacies of Astarion's living space might become essential.

The pristine silence is suddenly interrupted by the chime of an incoming message on the tablet. You approach it cautiously, noting Astarion's name on the notification. With a sense of trepidation, you open the message.

"Ensure you clean the living room thoroughly. I'll be hosting a small gathering there tonight. Impress me."

His words are concise, leaving you with a sense of urgency. The mundane task of washing dishes has evolved into preparing a high-profile space for an event you weren't aware of until now. A twinge of frustration simmers beneath the surface, but you push it aside, noting that you had only a few hours before the sun began to set.

You move from the kitchen to the living room, carefully dusting surfaces and arranging furniture to meet an unspoken standard of perfection. The penthouse, already immaculate, undergoes another level of scrutiny under your watchful eyes. You can't help but feel a sense of absurdity, thinking that a legal intern's day would involve ensuring the alignment of decorative pillows and the spotless shine of a glass coffee table.

As the day progresses, you are caught between bouts of irritation and determination. The controlled environment of Ancunin Associates has given way to the uncharted territory of Astarion's penthouse. The duality of your responsibilities — legal intern and personal assistant — blurs lines, leaving you grappling with the unexpected.

Stumbling into Astarion’s bedroom, you narrow your eyes at the scene before you. It was a change from who you had come to anticipate him as. Clothes were tossed carelessly to the ground, and upon further inspection, you were under the impression that one of these shirts could pay two months of your rent. You huff, gathering the misplaced clothes into your arms and setting them aside to be washed. You made quick work of putting his bed together, fluffing pillows, and tidying the sheets and blankets.

Stepping into the bathroom adjoined to the bedroom, you prepare to toss out the small trash bin. Your eyes narrow, and you make a sound of disgust at the sight. Two used condoms were the only contents.

There’s no way in hell I’m touching that.

You grumble as you step back out of the bathroom, flicking the light off in your wake. You would settle on simply putting Astarion’s clothes in the washer and heading out. Surely he wouldn’t expect anything more of you? You had already spent hours here.

However, as you return to the living room, the notification chime on the tablet draws your attention again. Another message from Astarion, and the words cut through your plans this time.

"Make sure you check the bedroom and bathroom. Attention to detail is crucial. I trust you won't disappoint."

Your frustration spikes, but you suppress it, realizing that your choices in this matter are limited. Taking a deep breath, you return to the bathroom. You need this apprenticeship, Tav.

You gather the courage to dispose of the used condoms, not allowing yourself to dwell on the

contents of them. The situation's absurdity is not lost on you – an intern scrubbing someone else's bathroom, particularly a man of Astarion's means. You felt as if you were living in a movie.

The sun begins its descent, casting a warm glow through the expansive windows of the penthouse. Your eyes sweep the living room, confirming that it meets the standards Astarion expects for his gathering. Despite the challenging nature of the day, a slight sense of accomplishment settles within you. You may not have expected to play the role of a personal assistant, but you've embraced the challenge and proven your ability to adapt.

As you prepare to leave, the tablet chimes again, signaling a final message from Astarion.

"Lock up behind yourself. Be ready for a full day tomorrow. We have much to discuss."

The weight of the day lingers as you walk home. The anger festers in your chest, though you try not to indulge it. This couldn’t have been the first time Astarion has taken advantage of having a desperate college student under his thumb. You can’t help but think the people who had deemed this to be one of the best internships for criminal justice are full of shit. You grumble in distaste, your feet feeling as if they’re on fire from the miles you were walking back to your shithole apartment on the south side of town, ten miles from Astarion’s penthouse. At this rate, you had been walking for an hour and a half, yet you were only halfway there.

You lean down, slipping the high heels off of your burning feet and cradle them in your arms.

The cool night air hits your face as you continue your journey, heels in hand. The events of the day play over and over in your mind, and the determination to prove yourself mingles with the frustration of the unconventional tasks assigned to you. As you approach your apartment building, a mix of exhaustion and frustration boils deep in your chest.

Opening the door to your modest apartment, you let out a heavy sigh. The contrast between Astarion's penthouse and your own space is stark, but a sense of resilience fuels your spirit. You toss the heels you had been holding aside and head straight to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Disheveled hair, tired eyes, but an unmistakable fire within them.

“Finally home?” A voice rings out, and you see Shadowheart leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom, dangling two empty glasses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other. “I figured we could celebrate.” You sigh, leaning against the bathroom sink and turning to face her. She raises her eyebrows, wiggling the bottle in a way that wordlessly says, ‘you know you want to’. You did, but your knees felt weak under your weight and your calves burned to the hells.

“I’m not even sure if there is anything to celebrate.” You snort in response, shooting her an apologetic look. She finally takes note of just how tired you truly looked, and her shoulders slumped.

“You didn’t get it? I just assumed since you were gone all day.” Shadowheart furrows her brows. “What happened?”

“No, I did get it. I think.” You huff, pursing your lips into a thin line. “Though it’s not at all what I expected.”

Shadowheart sits on the edge of your bed, listening as you fill her in on the day's events. The arrogance of the one and only Astarion Ancunin. “So he has you cleaning his house? I mean, truthfully, the coffee thing isn’t totally unheard of. But his used condoms?” She makes a sound of distaste deep in her throat, screwing her face up to match her tone of disgust.

“I’m a mess, Shadow.” You mutter, retreating from the bathroom in a fresh change of pajamas. The thought of spending a second more cleaning up his messes filled you with dread and, after knowing Astarion for only a day, you knew with full certainty that your distaste for the man would only grow.

“Was he as hot as the tabloids make him look?” She asks teasingly.

“Really?” You mutter, accepting the now-filled glass as you sit back into the pillows on your bed.

“What?” Shadowheart chuckles. “I’m just saying it may be more manageable if you’ve got eye candy to look at while you spend your days doing his laundry.” Her tone was teasing, though you knew there was a hint of truth in her tone.

The groan that left your lips was exasperated, bringing the wine glass to your lips and accepting the bitterly sweet liquid as it rolled over your tongue.

As you sip the wine, a mix of exhaustion and frustration settles within you. Shadowheart's attempt to lighten the mood brings a small smile to your face, but the reality of the situation looms large. The taste of the wine is a welcome reprieve, a momentary escape from the days to come with Astarion Ancunin ordering you about.

Nevertheless, the conversation with Shadowheart provides a brief respite. “He looks like a god if I’m being honest.” You finally admit with a slight chuckle. “Like he’s been cut straight from stone. He just so happens to be the biggest asshole I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing.”

You finish your glass and return it to her, smiling gratefully as she takes it. “You just so happen to be the toughest girl I know. It’s, what, a six-month internship? Just keep your eyes on the prize, Tav.” She reassures before letting out a yawn of her own. “That being said, I’ve got to be up early myself. I’ll make sure you’re actually awake before I leave.” Shadowheart says pointedly.

Once she leaves, you relax into your duvet, eyes closing as relaxation settles into your bones for the first time since you’d sprung out of bed that morning. No, nothing had gone particularly how you had hoped. Shadowheart’s words stoked the burning fire of ambition inside of you, and you felt eternally grateful to call her your friend.

Just keep your eyes on the prize, Tav.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion #bg3 #x reader #tav #reader #au!astarion x tav #au!astarion x reader #au #au!astarion

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seriesxwriting · 6 months

Text

Its called flirting

Pairings- Boss rafe X female reader

Series- outer banks <3

Warnings- kissing, I don’t even think there’s any swearing in this, go me!!

Summary- You go for a job interview but little do you know your old school ‘friend’ Rafe is now the boss. ;))

“You’ll be fine” my mother smiled at me just as I was leaving the door. “You look great, you have a big convincing smile, you’ll be fine” she nodded squishing my cheek. “Mum! Okay thank you stop squishing me” I laughed pulling myself away and stepping outside. “Good luck!” She blew me a kiss as I walked off to my car. I laughed shaking my head at her. It was nice she was being so supportive of my interview, it was important to me and it was possibly a ticket out of the cut.

My hands were practically shaking as I drove my mums beat up car to figure 8 to the building of my interview. Getting out I straightened my clothes and headed in. There were loads of people in the waiting room, about twenty twenty five? Some from the cut but most were kooks. They stared me down like I was an insect, but I’d felt with that my whole life. I was immune to it. Another thing I noticed was everyone was quite a bit older than me.

They must have had a lot more experience than I had. I sat down and about five minutes later a blonde woman walked out with a smile on her face. It looked slightly off putting as if she was warning everyone off. The receptionist picked up his phone before standing up. “Y/n Y/l/n, he’s ready for you” he voiced. My heart skipped a beat as I picked my back up and shakily walked towards the door. I took a deep breath and pulled it open. It was closed before I realised who was sitting behind the desk.

Rafe Cameron. He was reading papers and hadn’t looked up at me yet. It wasn’t too late to leave. My hand reached for the door and his ears pricked up hearing the door handle. “Hold on- where are you going?” It took him a second but his confused face eventually morphed into a smirk as he realised who I was. “Y/n? It’s been a while huh?” “A long while rafe” I sighed still with my hand on the door. “How long?” He lifted an eyebrow sitting back in his chair. “Well we left school three years ago- so three years” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Sit down, let’s catch up” “why? What’s the point I’m not getting the job”. “Who said that?” Rafe squeezed one eye closed. “There’s history here- it’s a conflict of interest huh” “just sit down” Rafe laughed shaking his head. His hair had been gelled back but it was starting to fall down loosely by his eyes now. He had the top button of his suit undone and pulled open. I sighed and went over to his desk to take a seat. “for someone that lives on the cut you sure have a lot of business experience- and you’re grades are amazing”.

“But you don’t like pogues, you make that very clear” “I always liked you though” he said looking back up from the paper into my eyes. “No you didn’t” I laughed pulling a face at him. “You’re chatting shit, you were always trying to make a joke out of me Rafe”. “It’s called flirting y/n” he told me as he sat back again. My heart dropped and I’m pretty sure my mouth hung open. “W-what?” “Don’t stutter it’s not like you” Rafe warned me with a little smile.

“You never did pick up on it huh- that’s what I told myself anyway” “because you can’t handle rejection?” I smirked finding this conversation slightly more intriguing now. “No” Rafe laughed shaking his head. “Maybe” he changed his mind pretty quickly. “I’d say more on the lines of I’m not used to it” Rafe corrected me. “Mmh, perhaps- what have you been doing these last three years” “well I’ve been doing all that shit on my resume- you’ve clearly calmed down, ward wouldn’t be letting you work for him if you hadn’t”.

Rafe laughed out loud showing his pearly white teeth. “If by calm down you mean stopped doing cocaine every night then yes” “that’s- really good Rafe- well done” I swallowed nodding. “I want the company, the only way ward will give it to me is if I earn it” Rafe rolled his eyes “you’ve always wanted it” “and now? What is it you want?” He questioned with one eye closed. “I don’t want the job because you fancied me back in the day Rafe” I raised my eyebrows at him.

“Do you really think my father would let me live if I hired an incompetent girl because she was pretty?” “Probably not..” I trailed off “but would he let you live if you hired a pogue?” “A pogue that know what she’s doing? A pogue that’s going to work ten times harder than any kook I hired because she’s grateful for the position and won’t take it for granted?” Rafe sat forward putting his arms on the table leaning closer to me. “Are you really going to give it to me?” I asked as my heart skipped a beat.

“You want it it’s yours” Rafe nodded sitting back and spinning in his chair. “I do want it” I nodded seriously. “And I won’t take it for granted Rafe” “I know” he nodded becoming quite serious too. Of course that only lasted for about five seconds. “Plus it definitely wouldn’t be a bad thing seeing you at the office everyday- might even be a bit of motivation for me” he bit his lip which made my heart pound against my chest. He did look gorgeous, he always had done but now he was older and more mature and was doing well for himself. My eyes had hearts in them.

Rafe could clearly see I was speechless and he took that opportunity to stand up and open the door to the waiting room. “You can all go home, the jobs been filled” “but that’s illegal you have to interview us and take us into consideration!” One of the men called out from outside. “I could interview you but it would be a waste of both our times because you’re not getting the job, it’s been filled” Rafe said again harshly. Groaning sounds started flooding towards me before a cluster of people leaving.

“So I guess I should be leaving- you’ll email me?” I asked standing up putting my bag on my shoulder. Rafe looked at me before walking slowly towards me he backed me up against the wall because he just kept coming. “Rafe” I breathed out. “Why don’t you give me your number, then we can go from there?” He whispered lowly and flirtatiously. “What are you doing” I breathed looking up at his deep flirty blue eyes. “It’s called flirting y/n” he smiled keeping his eyes on mine. “Why do I like it this time round” I told him as my chest rose up and down.

I was nervous. He made me nervous, I was nervous for the interview and even though I’d gotten the job by some miracle rafe was still making me nervous. “Because you know I’m doing it now” he answered. I dropped my hand to the floor my bag slid off down my arm and I put one hand around his neck pushing him towards me. His hands wrapped round my waist as we both sunk into the kiss. He soon took over making it harder and more passionate. Never. Never did I think I’d be kissing Rafe Cameron. Not that I’d never thought about it before. Every girl in our school had.

“I can’t belive I just done that” I pulled away panicking a bit. “I didn’t hesitate, did I?” “No” I answered him softly looking back into his hypnotising eyes. “Then you know it was revived well” he raised an eyebrow for some reason reassuring me that he was happy I kissed him. “It was unprofessional” “You just spiced up the office pogue, I think you’ll like it here we’ll have lots of fun” “don’t call me a pogue” I put my finger up at him.

Rafes arms flew up in defence. “I didn’t mean it like- -it doesn’t matter how you ment it rafe when you say pogue it’s degrading, I am a pogue and I’m not ashamed of it but don’t you call me it” I warned him not liking the tone he had put on the word. “Okay gorgeous, I’ll use pet names instead, do you like being called princess?” He smirked “you have my number- it’s on my CV, I’ll see you on Monday” “you’ll see me tomorrow” Rafe told me going back round to the side of his desk. “O-okay- even better” I smiled excitedly. He watched me for a second not saying anything.

“You’re cute, I’ll see you tomorrow” he smiled warmly at me. “You’ll text me?” I raised an eyebrow. “If you promise to text back”, I nodded my head at him “I’ll text you back Cameron” I answered making my way towards the door. “Oh and princess” he called as I was half way out the door, my heart skipped a beat as I poked my head round seeing what he wanted. “You won’t be a pogue much longer, so enjoy it while it lasts” he told me with such a neutral face. I just blinked at him before closing the door and leaning back on it.

Just reflecting on what had just happened. I think I liked Rafe Cameron.

Rafe masterlist-

Outer banks masterlist-

All series masterlist-

Masterlist of masterlists-

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 1 year

Text

The One I've Been Waiting For {Part 01 of 13}

Billy Hargrove X Older!Reader

Word count: 2 K

Summary: Billy Hargrove is just one of the many students you're supposed to help. The last thing you expect from your interaction is that he'll start flirting with you... Much less than Billy would stir up feelings you'd rather keep hidden. Despite the mutual sentiments that soon enough start to grow, there are a lot of reasons for whatever it is to be left alone, and one of them is your age...

Next part (02) ->

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

A/N: In this story, the reader is 5 years older than Billy, who's 18.

The Exact Opposite

The wind is cold against your skin as you move against the sea of students. It has a weird feeling to be in a High School again, even though you left it not so long ago. But still, it feels like a whole different world now.

“This school is tiny,” Tanya says, walking beside you. “Mine had three buildings and the parking lot was twice the size of this one.”

“Mine was big too.” There are a lot of eyes on both of you, but you got used to it. It's a small town, and you're both newcomers, walking inside the school while everyone is walking out. They must be curious.

“Sometimes I wonder if transferring here was a good idea.”

“Why?”

“I'm from New York, the city that never sleeps. This town is... Way too slow for me.” You break apart to let a couple holding hands pass before going to the side again. “Indianapolis was bad already. Hawkins...” She sighs, shaking her head.

“You can always transfer back. I'll miss you, but don't let that stop you.” Linking arms with her, you smile.

“You better do.”

Giggling, you push the school officer's door, feeling the cold air-conditioning air. You and Tanya make your way to the receptionist, an old lady who immediately looks up at you. “Good afternoon. We're here for the tutoring.”

“Good afternoon, my dears.” She greets and smiles, searching for something on her table. A couple of seconds later, she finds it. “Who's Tanya and who's (Y/N)?”

“I'm (Y/N).” You say, taking the paper she gives you.

“On these files, you have information about the students you'll be helping. Those set for today must be arriving anytime now, the classes just ended.” She smiles again. “If you need anything, I'm Mrs. Duford and I'll be here to help.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Duford,” Tanya says and you nod at her, moving to sit on the chairs placed by the wall. “You know I'm only doing this for the trip, right? Dealing with teenagers and kids isn't my thing.”

“Oh, you got some from the elementary school too?”

“Yes. But I'm rethinking it. Teenagers are bad enough and-” Someone opens the door and gets your attention. The blonde girl speaks to Mrs. Duford, who gestures at you. “Guess that's my cue?” She asks, glancing at your paper.

“Yup. I got a boy.”

Sighing, she stands up. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck.” You mutter and she smiles. She's not really into it, but she's smart, and the kids will benefit from her teaching.

So, left alone, you wait for your student. Ten minutes pass by, and ten more. Maybe he didn't come today or forgot the whole thing. But since you don't have anything to do today, you decide to wait a while longer.

“My dear.” Mrs. Duford calls and you look up at her. “If the student isn't here you're free to go. I will write a report that he didn't show and-” She's cut off by a guy pushing the door open. He goes straight to her desk and you look down, getting a glimpse of his jeans jacket.

“Guess I'm off then.” You tell yourself, taking your bag from the chair beside you and folding the papers in half.

“Are you my tutor?” A strong voice asks, quite rudely, as you get to your feet. Looking up, you find a man staring down at you. Did he just say something about a tutor? Is this man a student here? You were expecting a teenager, not... This.

“Yes?” It sounds like a question, and you quickly unfold the paper, reading the name. “Are you William Hargrove?”

When you look at him again, you see his expression change. It's fast, and it happens suddenly. It shifts from anger and annoyance to what seems like surprise, right before going back to annoyance.

“Just Billy.” He says, awkwardly glancing at Mrs. Duford before turning his attention back to you. “Are you really my tutor?”

“Yes, why?” Furrowing your eyebrows, you shrug your shoulders and look away. You've been staring at his eyes, light blue eyes, for a little too long.

“Nothing.” He steps back, clearing his throat. “What now?”

“They have a classroom set for us.”

Billy nods, gesturing at the door and smiling. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

Billy had to drive like crazy, leave his dipshit sister home and drive back to school. He failed one single test. It's not like he couldn't recover from an F. He did it before, but now the school has this partnership with Indianapolis University, and he has put in it, with a lot of other students.

The truth is that Billy can't stand school anymore. When he turned 18 last year, he thought he'd take his car and go back to California. Go back home. But adult life needs a freaking High School diploma, so he had to stay.

Pushing the car door close, he walks fast inside, cursing himself, the teachers, and everyone else he can name. He can't wait for this to be over, to leave Neil behind, leave that hell of a house behind. Billy wants a life for himself, away from all these stupid, shitty people. High School is just a tiny thing compared to what he wants. Billy wants more. He wants to <be> more. But for that, he needs to graduate.

“I'm here for some tutor they assigned me.” He spits at the old woman behind the desk, the door banging loudly behind him.

“She's over there, Mr. Hargrove.” The woman says, and he follows her gesture, finding a girl on the set of chairs near the wall.

Rolling his eyes and sighing, he walks over to her. “Are you my tutor?” He spits the words, impatient, watching as she stands up, fixing the strap of the bag on her shoulder. The girl looks up, and Billy is taken aback. Of course, he was expecting some ugly nerd with a messed-up face. But this? This girl is a sight for sore eyes, and Billy Hargrove is sore from everything.

“Yes?” She asks her voice as soft as silk. She also seems a little shocked, opening her papers before raising her eyes to meet his again. “William Hargrove?”

Ugh, not Willian. He should be mad about it, but for some reason, he feels compelled to forgive her for calling him like that. “Just Billy. Are you really my tutor?” He has to be sure, just in case this is some stupid joke on him.

“Yes. Why?”

“Nothing.” Moving away a little, Billy clears his throat. At least he'll have a pretty face to look at while he endures this. And what a face she has. Prettier than all the girls of Hawkings. “What now?”

“They have a classroom set for us.”

Just for the two of them?

The thought crosses his mind like a lightning bolt, making him hold back a smile. Maybe he could try something with her, why not? Even though she doesn't give him the feeling that she'd be down for that. The least he could do is try. So he gestures at the door, offering her a smile. “Lead the way, teacher.”

---

You enter the classroom first, quickly acknowledging the other three pairs. There's a free table in the back, far enough from the others not to bother them. “Is that table alright?” You ask him, and when he nods, you make your way there, take a seat, waiting for him to do the same.

“What's your name?” He asks just as he takes his place across from you, cupping his hands over the table and leaning forward.

“(Y/N). Nice to meet you, Will... Billy.” Correcting yourself, you smile. “Can we start?”

“Sure.”

“Do you want to go through the test you failed? Or focus on what's coming next?”

“The past is in the past. Let's move on.”

“Alright.” Checking the papers, you read the class planner. “Immune System.” You say. “What exactly do you know about it?”

“Mmm...” Billy mumbles, and it's clear that he's not very interested in this. But you don't blame him. You weren't very excited about High School yourself, and you didn't care much about the subjects you didn't like. You're sure he'd rather be hanging out with his friends, and honestly, so would you. “Something about protecting the body from infections or sickness.”

“You're right. Do you have any books with you?” You know he doesn't since he didn't bring any bags, but you decide to ask.

“In my locker.” He jerks his head to the door. “Want me to get it for you?”

“That would be good.” Nodding, you watch as he smirks again and stands up.

“I'll be right back.”

“You better be.” It comes out more in a joking tone and in a warning one. If Billy uses this as an excuse to leave, you don't mind. It's his future, so this is completely up to him.

But he comes back a couple of minutes later.

On the next day though, he shows up late again. And on the next one, you find him on your way out, more than thirty minutes late. Now, you have only two other meetings with him, he'll have a quiz, and if he goes well, you'll be assigned to someone else. But you think he'll do just fine because it seems like he's paying attention...

Until you noticed he wasn't. Billy was just staring, glaring at you... And you were keeping cool, ignoring it as long as he answered the questions, but today, at the last meeting, you decided to ask, mostly out of curiosity, and because you think he'll do well enough on the quiz, even if just to be free from your tutoring.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You inquire, tapping the table with your pen.

Billy chuckles, pushing his notebook away. “Because I like looking at pretty girls.”

What the hell? You regret asking when you feel your cheeks heating up. You surely weren't expecting that. But now you know his strategy. Billy is the town's bad boy, you've heard a lot about him. And you won't fall for his games. “Is that what you usually say to make girls go out with you?”

He giggles, eyes still fixed on you. “No. I only have to ask. The answer is always yes. No need to sugarcoat it with compliments.” He sounds serious this time, leaning closer. “So when I compliment a girl, I mean it.”

“Mhmm.” You mutter, raising an eyebrow and leaning back on your chair. “I'm not your type of girl, Billy. You like them easy and pretty.”

“And you're the exact opposite.” He bursts out, closing his notebook at the same moment you close the book. Today's class is over.

“Make up your mind, Billy. You can't compliment me and then take it back.” Pushing the book over to him, you shrug your shoulders. “Say what you mean and stick to it.”

“You didn't get me.” Billy laughs, taking both the book and notebook with a hand. That's when you notice how big his hands are... But why are you even noticing that? You've seen handsome guys before... No big deal.

“Oh, really?”

“Really.” You both stand up, and you start walking to the door as he follows you from up close. “I meant you're not easy to get like those sluts and...” He makes a pause when you cross the door, long enough to make you look at him, waiting for further explanation. Is that also part of his strategy? “And, no, you're not pretty. It didn't take more than a second to get to the conclusion that pretty isn't enough to describe you.”

“Dear God.” You exclaim, laughing. “Are you seriously doing that?” Walking side by side with him, you reach the parking lot. The setting sun casts a beautiful, warm light, that makes you wish you had a Polaroid camera with you.

“Doing what?”

“Correct me if I'm wrong, but are you hitting on me, Billy Hargrove?” You stop by your car, turning to look at him.

“What if I am?” He gives you that smirk again, the ice-melting one. “Would you have a problem with that?”

“I'm older than you, in case you haven't noticed.” With a bright smile on your face, you state the obvious, because you know it'll send him off. Wipe this stupid idea off his head.

“How old are you? Thirty?” The sarcasm is mixed with an eye-roll, and the way he keeps staring down at you makes you feel a little anxious.

“I may be.” Stepping back you glance at your car. You just want to drive home and forget this embarrassing conversation.

“You look my age, Princess. People here thought you were a new student.” Billy chuckles, and your face starts to burn at the pet name. He probably calls everyone that, so it's plain stupid to let it sink. “But tell me, how old are you?”

“I'll be twenty-four in a couple of months.” Your voice sounds weaker now because you don't feel so triumphant anymore. But you still hope the five years it'll be enough.

“So? I'm eighteen. We're both adults.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you sigh. “If it makes you feel better, I'm closer to nineteen than I am to seventeen so...”

Taking a deep breath, you step back again, wondering what you could possibly say in a situation like this. “Look, Billy, I gotta go. I hope I helped you somehow and that you'll do better from now on.” Walking backwards, you wave at him. “Good luck and remember everything we studied.” Turning around, you get into your car, thanking God for being away from Billy.

Through the review mirror, you watch as he gets inside his car, a dark blue Camaro. You wait for a while, but he doesn't even start the car. Rolling your eyes, you decide not to think about it. Turning the ignition, you leave the parking lot and hit the streets, relieved that this is all over.

Taglist: @multific

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things billy x reader #stranger things fanfic #billy stranger things fanfiction

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oneshotnewbie · 1 year

Note

Carina and Mayas girlfriend (love triangle) works at the vet clinic. Today she has a significant bad day because one of her patients died and she couldn't save them and it shows in her messages to Maya and Carina so the firefighter and/or Carina show up at work and tries to cheer her up with lots of kisses and affection?

Authors note: This story is a bit shorter than others because I didn't have much time to write over the weekend. Have pity on me ❤

Summary:After a devastating loss for you, both Carina and Maya help you with some cuddles and affection.

---

Excited, the two woman walked up the ramp to the veterinary office where you worked to pay you a little visit with your favorite food in the luggage. They knew you did not like unannounced visits; you usually had a lot of patients of all sizes coming in either for regular treatment or emergencies that left you with no time in between to chat with your girlfriends.

However, according to your brief and unemotional messages to them, they had every reason to worry and so they teamed up during their lunch breaks to make their way over to check on you; to see how you were. "Excuse us, where can we find Doctor L/n?"

The lady at the reception had the landline phone stretched to her ear while she was typing on her computer; totally stressed out. Her gaze shifted to the two ladies in front of her for just a brief second, smiling when she saw the faces of her boss wives and she whispered a quick -One moment please- before turning back to the screen and reading aloud to the person on the phone.

Carina nodded and stepped back to protect the patients privacy. With a quick pull on one of Maya´s arm, she brought her behind the line of discretion. While they waited, the blonde nervously wiggled her leg and bit her lip; she just wanted to rush into your office and take you into her embrace- something bad must have happened to make you behave so cold towards them.

"Doctor DeLuca?" requested the receptionist after a short wait and the addressed turned around. She crossed the last few meters between her and the counter, leaning her elbows on the glass to listen to the other woman talking. "She is in her office but does not want to be disturbed right now. I am sorry."

Now Maya had also approached and put her hands on her hips. Her gaze was questioning and urgent; her eyebrows raised sharply, so that small wrinkles formed on her forehead. "With all respect, we know that you have your orders but she is our wife and we are worried so we are going in now and you will not stop us!"

She pushed past Carina, who previously bit her lip and then started moving backwards as she followed the blonde into your office. When they got there, both of the knocked wildly on your door with their open hand, but when you did not answer, the firefighter opened the door and was startled at the sight of you.

You sat on the sofa with your green scrubs on, your legs bent against your chest and your head tucked into your arms. A soft sob escaped your throat and your body trembled with every breath you took- you were so lost in your own grief that you did not even noticed the knocks and the footsteps approaching your form.

As the couch deepened next to you, strong arms wrapped around your midsection and a chin rested on your upper arm while someone knelt in front of you with a loud crack of their kneecap, trying to clear a path to your face. Two cold fingers gently and deliberately pulled your chin up and revealed your tearful face. "Baby, what happened?"

"Duke died," you choked out dejected and both woman immediately knew, who you were talking about. A German shepherd that you have had in your care since he was 12 weeks old.

After 10 years of living his best life, you diagnosed him with osteosarcoma a year ago, which was treated with multi-modal therapy consisting of surgery, chemo- and pain therapies which extended survival time and improved quality of life, but was not curable.

You tried to make the last few months as comfortable as possible for him, giving him the best therapy you could possibly offer but he lost the fight much faster than you thought and you had to relieve him from his agony this morning.

Through the years of bonding with each other, his death took you extremely hard and you suffered. "Bella, mi dispiace tanto. (Beautiful, I am so sorry)" Carina spoke in a hushed tone and snuggled closer to your lower legs as her head rested on your lap. Gentle kisses were placed on your bare skin. Her fingertips gently stroking your thighs. "It´s not your fault. Sometimes things like this happen in life and there´s nothing you can do about it."

Tears were still streaming freely down your face and you looked at the brunette in front of you. You knew she was right, there was nothing more you could have done. But you expected more time. A reasonable goodbye. By the time the family arrived with him, he was already too far gone to give you one last look or run his tongue over your face one last time.

Maya had meanwhile also pulled her legs up and sat cross-legged next to you to place you on her lap with a strong but loving jerk before starting to rock you in her tight hug. Your head disappeared into her shoulder and your arms wrapped around her, holding her as if she were about to slip out of your grasp should you stop digging your fingernails into her blouse.

"You know, angel.." Maya started to speak and started to place little kisses on the skin of your neck while taking a break from her sentence. "Even if it hurts you incredibly now, you have to see the positive side; you took Duke out of his pain and gave him a better after-life. Up there.." she stretched her hand up and pointed her finger to the sky, waiting for your gaze to follow up with her, "..he can play with other dogs and finally romp around without pain."

The doctor meanwhile got up from her uncomfortable seat on the floor and placed herself on the free side next to Maya. She brushed a strand of hair out of your face and let it disappear behind your ear before wrapping her arms around you and placing soft kisses on the side of the face, that was still visible. "Don´t cry, bella. Where he is now is the most beautiful place for him."

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oh-saints · 1 year

Text

sunshine becomes you (pt. 4)

Being a footballer means Martin possibly has every resources in his whim. Well, except the one thing he needs now is only available in the hands of his (ex) girlfriend.

Grumpy!Martin Ødegaard x Sunshine!OC

Word Count: 4.0k

Note: please, please, please don't hate me for this lolol but we're going for a rollercoaster, odegirlies, so brace yourself! but as usual, i happen to write this around dawn so ofc not beta-read yet. feedbacks are welcome tho!

Tags: my lovely loves @julianalvarez9 @formula1tina @okayline @mehrmonga @mrswhitethornbelikov @notleclerc <3<3 (lemme know if you want to be added!)

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5

It seemed Martin couldn’t operate around her if there was no false pretense standing between him and Eve.

The moment the clock literally struck 12, lightning struck back Eve’s life and returned them to normalcy. So normal that everyone else but her barely noticed the apparent changes unravelling around London Colney; she was back to Eve the receptionist, and Martin was back to his constantly-grumpy state to no one but Eve.

No more was the beautiful-looking couple captivating the entire Christmas Gala with their explosive, fantastic chemistry that shunned even the longest relationship existing in the same room.

She’d like to think going back to square one was better, given their real circumstances, but Martin wasn’t giving her any edges. Worse, he’d gone barely seen, and that was saying a lot when Eve was known to be the ghost of the building, for her immaculate presence all over the facility.

Some said he snuck in when Eve was always busy running errands; some said he arrived before anyone else in the morning; some said he clocked out later than the security team.

Final straw came when everyone was gathering in the canteen to bid Eve farewell on her very last day of working in the amazing club. Every single person working at London Colney—including Bob, even—applauded her for the fantastic job she’d been doing for the club, despite the short time shared on the grounds. A certain Norwegian blonde, however, remained unidentifiable until the 15-minute town hall before lunch ended.

Much to the front liner’s dismay, most turned to Eve about it. After all, Eve and Martin were still an item in their eyes. Eve could only do so much as replying, “we just don’t want you guys to be sick of us,” whenever the question of Martin’s avoidance towards crowds was raised, while chucking in the tears that were threatening to slide down her cheeks because she knew better—she knew the truth.

It shouldn’t be breaking Eve’s heart, but the damage had been done.

Eve wanted to badly lie to herself that she was doing that out of spite, that pulling out that degree of stupid stunt was her futile, foolish attempt to get him running after her like those chick-flicks she stashed in her library.

But Eve knew better—reality didn’t fit into Cinderella’s pair of glass heels, especially for someone like her, who fought for proper living standard every day to make ends. Eve and Martin were raised in different circumstances, made from worlds apart, meant for different purposes in life. There was no way they were going to be together—not in this lifetime nor any other alternate universes—as this wasn’t some written fairy tales.

She couldn’t afford a heartbreak when she’d foreseen the fruitless future if she were to share one with him, just like she couldn’t afford the gown she’d returned in the same satin box he’d delivered to her door.

This is for the better, she hypnotised herself as she placed the soft, expensive box on Martin’s bench, trying to pale the ache slicing through her chest. You have a realistic life to live.

Fuck rom-coms. She was going to discard each and every one left in her library as soon as she enjoyed her two-week notice.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊��❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

Obviously, with that being said, Eve didn’t have the heart to throw away the only outlets for her to escape the harsh reality for someone who came from a working-class family and inherited the reality of working 9-to-5 like her. Especially when those fake-dating tropes—ironically—reminded her of all the wonderful time she spent with Martin, no matter how fleeting and fragile those moments were.

Weeks after the Christmas Gala, Eve could now proudly say she thought of them as something precious because when else were you indulged in the luxury of being in Martin Ødegaard’s arms, acting or not?

Her best friend bit her ears off for taking the whole thing “like a champ”, as if her heart was made of steel when she was legitimately allowed to swallow the bitter pill while crying her heart out. Eve actually considered doing them, specifically during the first week after the painful no-show of her last day, but she decided against in and focused on the positive notes.

Dwelling over negatives wouldn’t turn around the fact that someone as great as Martin Ødegaard was destined for someone his calibre, someone that was definitely not Eve.

So it didn’t make any sense when she found Martin, already leaning against his car with hands in his pocket—undoubtedly hiding them against the cold air of a very early morning—as she walked down the porch of her flat. From where she stood, frozen at the unprecedented event unfolding before her eyes, his side profile gave away nothing but pursed lips, like he was holding off his thoughts from spilling.

Oh, how much Eve wanted a penny for that beautiful mind of his.

But she couldn’t. Unlike the night of the Christmas gala, Martin revoked her access to them. What used to be something easy for Eve to read between the lines was now guarded by a fence so high it put Wall of China to shame.

“Martin,” At his name being called, the owner of the name stood up straight, and—god damn it—Eve’s heart raced at the movement, for it reminded her of what happened between them in front of that sketchy backdoor toilet. “What are you doing here?

Despite being missing on action for weeks, Eve hated how much Martin still affected her, body and soul. She wasn’t even nearby Martin, distance between them were about 100 metres but might as well have the Atlantic between them like they used to be.

But no matter the palpable distance between where they respectively stood, Martin, on the other hand, would always be able to pick up her signature breathy voice that went only slightly above a whisper. It was the very sound he didn’t know he could miss hearing.

Like she was breathless, like he’d taken her breath away. The same way she did his.

If only he could tell her that… But instead of mulling over endless possibilities that couldn’t happen—not when Eve herself didn’t give them a chance, something she’d blatantly said at the end of Christmas gala—Martin stuck to the one thing he excelled at; choosing reality.

“Angel,” Words flowed effortlessly from Martin’s mouth but his smile was rather tight on the corners, and Eve hated it already when she knew first hand how blinding his real, true smile could be. “I see you’re going to the flower market.”

Had Eve’s eyes not focused on taking in Martin’s appearance, she would’ve swooned at the fact Martin remembered her little peculiar antics of getting a fresh set of flowers every Sunday from the flower market.

But his dishevelled presentation, so striking to the well-kempt display he always had everywhere, stole away her attention. It wasn’t only the mess on top of his hair, of his blonde locks gone astray to every direction; it was also the garments he threw on without a care in the world, all in black, like he was mourning.

His blue eyes descended to the deepest pit of the ocean, no longer shining in the glint she loved the most, especially bright against low lights. Like those eyebags were swallowing them whole, like those eyebags were a blackhole instead of dark circles.

His cheeks sunken, no longer protruding as high as a skyscraper, so different to the image of a Viking everyone labelled the captain as. If Eve didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed Martin had undergone those cosmetic surgery of buccal fat removal.

He looked so haggard, as if he’d lost weight; exhaustion personified. She could only wonder why—perhaps Arsenal’s losing strike took a toll on him—since asking his well-being was not on the cards anymore, not since they stopped pretending to be lovers, not since Martin didn’t give them a chance.

Martin took his open opportunity when they fell into a pregnant silent. “I’ll take you there.”

“Why are you here?”

“I said I’m taking you to the flower market,” He said, as easy as the wind breezed past them. “What kind of boyfriend am I to let my girlfriend to roam around such crowded places so early in the morning?”

The indifference he showed, both in words and action, caught her off-guard. He was back to display the whole no-shit-sherlock attitude around her, complete with the expressionless face, like she should know the most obvious fact, and Eve had to remind herself that this was the real Martin, not the one that fooled everyone attending the Christmas gala.

Including Eve herself.

“You’re not my boyfriend, Martin.”

“In the eyes of the public, I am,” Martin shrugged his shoulder so nonchalantly, as if it didn’t hurt Eve to know he was doing just fine barging into her life like it was the most natural thing to do for him. “My family included.”

Wait, what?

“I need your help,” He continued, his hands moved from the pockets of his jacket to the pockets of his jeans. It scared Eve when he said those massive, literally burdensome words with squared shoulders and calm demeanour and collected composure—she felt like she was his opponent on the pitch. “My family went to the game today, only to be ambushed by many congratulations that I’ve scored a wonderful, lovely match of a girlfriend. One that that they don’t know of because it’s one I never tell them—”

“Because she doesn’t exist.”

“She did during the gala, but that’s not the point,” Martin had to grind out his teeth from the inside, the perfect epitome how her words gnawed his heart from inside out because while they were nothing but facts, it didn’t make them any less hurtful to him—and to what could’ve been between them. “They want to have lunch with you today.”

Martin let out the last sentence with a heavy puff of breath. With the way his jaw ticked tightly, Eve could tell he hated saying that, like he’d take any other option but to ask her to pretend once more if he had the chance.

Maybe he’d told his family about us pretending but his family didn’t accept such a ridiculous pretense that they forced him to talk to her, and that the lunch was merely their effort to amend them. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was,” See, he even wished to have nothing to do with me anymore. Did he hate me so much? “You should know by now that being honest with you is something I wish to uphold.”

“Even when our relationship is a farce?”

Martin didn’t have the heart to answer it, and Eve didn’t have the heart to acknowledge the pregnant silence.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“You had a game today, you’re supposed to be resting.”

Boyfriend or not, Martin really intended to come along by Eve’s side to the flower market, despite her initial protests and complaints. No one in the right mind went to the flower market alone at 2 in the morning, without a proper transportation on top of that.

Taxi and Uber certainly didn’t count as a safety mode of transportation for Martin. You never know what can possibly happen in that small space of four-wheeler—we’ve seen too much of real-life cases that happens to women.

I’ve been doing this for ages, but she failed to realise that just because something never happened to her, it wasn’t going to happen. In Martin’s defence, he had a sister himself and he didn’t want anything bad happen to Eve the way he didn’t want them to happen to his sister.

I am used to this, Martin, but she didn’t have to get used to those things. She didn’t have to get used to all these dangerous things she downplayed as normalcy because he knew that she had the options, she’d definitely want to take the tube or buses. She could be having what her heart desires—she should be.

No matter what went down between them at the end of the day, Martin would certainly give her a flak if she settled with someone less than what she deserved.

And no, that lucky bastard didn’t have to be Martin.

It wasn’t going to be Martin anyway, Eve made it clear at the very end of their contractual relationship once a long while ago.

“Can’t sleep well lately, anyway.”

Martin’s phlegmatic manner was now in sync—his actions were now as schooled as his facial features. His hands ran down the flower petals thoughtlessly, not giving anything of his mind away, just like his hardened expressions. Aloof, and Eve took it as a sign to reduce her small talks.

“You should see Doc about it.”

“You think I haven’t done that?” Eve’s hearts plummeted along with the way he sputtered the words, as if she should be smarter about the whole ordeal, and this time Eve was the one who had to school her expression so Martin couldn’t see her disappointment towards his attitude—he must not see them. The last time she gave away too much of her, she ended up doing rom-coms marathon with a tube of Ben n Jerry’s. “Doc’s prescribed me something but it’s no use,”

It might be the stress talking…, Eve tried to reason with herself.

“I don’t see the point of meds, to be honest,” Martin let out another heavy sigh as his hand ran through his hairs, messing them in frustrations. “Not when I’ve been restless since you’re gone.”

How could she possibly have a proper response to that?

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“There they are!”

Martin didn’t even have the chance to open Eve’s door completely before his mother ran down the porch towards his car to engulf Eve in the warmest hug Eve had ever gotten from a woman. Funny—despite never meeting his mother before, Eve had the most familiar feeling around her, like they were old friends reunited, and she didn’t know what to feel.

Partly because she didn’t share the same sentiment with her own mother, partly because she felt guilty that his mother had already welcomed her in this house like she was truly Martin’s girlfriend when, in fact, she wasn’t even close to what the word meant.

It didn’t even take his mother a minute to lead her towards the house, like she owned the residential instead of a visiting his son’s abode, asking if Eve had any food allergy that she should be aware of. That was amongst the things she questioned; others were trivial questions in order to get to know his son’s girlfriend.

With the swift pace his mother was speaking, though, Eve had to look beyond his mother’s shoulder to throw a help-me look to Martin because there was no way she could survive this on her own.

Eve couldn’t bring to hate herself for always seeking Martin’s aid this time around, no matter how much she wanted to be free of him. Like she promised herself internally just before she plopped down beside Martin on the passenger seat.

“That’s enough, mamma,” Martin strode his way towards the two of them, one hand reached for his mother’s that was grippling the life of Eve to set Eve free, before both hands clenched her shoulder gently. “She hasn’t even taken off her coat, but she’s allergic to shrimp and other soft-shell seafood.”

“Oh no, I’ve made crayfish—”

“It’s okay, she can have your venison,” Eve didn’t have time to discern anything because everything happened at the same time she didn’t even have time to breathe, not even the fact that Martin had gained information on her allergies, so she was lucky Martin took over the conversation. She shed her coat when Martin wordlessly tugged the wool piece, both of their eyes still set on the powerhouse that was his mother, and at that interaction, the matron smiled wider. “By the way, my mother makes the best venison, solskinn. Glad you can finally try them.”

“Ah, the infamous roasted venison you love? What’s that called again?”

“Dyresteg,” His mother answered for her, before Martin could have the chance. At the speed of lightning his mother unknowingly possessed—at least, one that he got to know of until today, in front of Eve, more over—Martin forced himself to look up from the set of eyes that reminded him of the deer but belonged to Eve. “I see that Martin’s told you about his soulfood.”

“He can’t shut up about it,” Eve elbowed Martin teasingly and the man replied by faking pain at it, which resulted in them both laughing without constraint. Without an underlying justification called fake dating between them. “Maybe I should learn one thing or two while the master is here so I can cook them for you.”

“That’s—” Eve’s response, however, startled both Martin and his mother. While Martin was rather taken aback at the genuine tone Eve used—because now he really couldn’t draw the line which one was the real Eve, unlike the night of the Christmas gala—his mother was caught off guard because she couldn’t recall the last time someone had ever offered to do such thing for Martin. Living in a different country meant she couldn’t cook her son’s favourite dish whenever she wanted to, and so far the girlfriends her son managed to take home didn’t care about anything beyond the luxury he could give them. “That’s very lovely of you. I hope you bring your notes.”

But to say she liked Eve already would be an understatement. Eve didn’t make it difficult to take her into everyone’s good side, as well, and as a mother, Eve had nailed in the moment she typed down every instruction she was giving Eve to make the perfect dyresteg. And maybe also little moments where Martin stole little pecks on her cheeks from behind whenever he was getting his brothers and sisters something from the fridge—because she knew her son only did that out of gratitude, the same way he used to do it to his mother whenever she was cooking this particular favourite dish of his.

At one point of cooking, everyone was flocking the kitchen and before they knew it, Martin’s brothers and sisters were already drilling the Norwegian captain’s embarrassing stories during childhood.

“Do you remember the time where he got lost because he followed someone he thought was mamma?”

“No way!” Eve’s eyes bulged out in pure surprise that Martin couldn’t help but laugh, instead of stopping his older brother’s beginning of Martin’s most embarrassing anecdote. “What happened?”

Martin’s mother noticed Eve’s focus was slowly shifting from dyresteg to the tale Christoph was giving so she dismissed the younger woman, only for Eve to realise there was no seat left on the kitchen island.

Martin didn’t think twice to pull her by the waist towards him, “Come here.”

“This feels oddly familiar,” Eve laughed under her breath, not wanting to disrupt Christoph’s flow in retelling his story, but enough only for Martin to hear, as she settled in the room between his legs. “Don’t tell me to sit on your lap again this time, we have your youngest sister watching.”

“Yes, mother,” Their position, her back on his front, eased up Martin’s way to reply her in a whisper, and they fell back to the smooth flow they had constructed during the Christmas gala. “I will behave.”

And behave he did. Without further words, Martin gave up his seat for Eve while he stood by behind her. His mother didn’t miss the way Martin never let go of Eve, always having an arm around the woman’s waist at least.

She also didn’t miss the way they’d look at each other when laughing, the way her hand covered the one Martin was placing around her hips, or the way he’d kissed the small spot on the temple above her ears while she stroke his square jawline back and forth. At one point, Eve laughed so hard at Christoph’s story that Martin had to envelope her into a back hug and hid himself in the crook of her neck so naturally it almost felt like watching water moulding into a medium’s shape.

She wanted to be jealous, as a mother, but she realised that her son was slowly building a life—his own life—here with someone he truly loved, and as a mother, she couldn’t be happier than knowing someone had taken care of her son very well, especially when he was living too far from her for a mother’s liking.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

“Let me help you with that.”

Eve almost dropped the plate on her hands at Martin’s voice creeping from behind. She insisted on washing the dishes—or putting them to the dishwasher, depends on your standard—not because she wanted to play the good girlfriend card, but because she was raised that way; if someone else cooks, dishes are on her shoulder.

She was used to be misunderstood by other about it but before she could explain herself, Martin stepped in and said, “Let her be, Mom. She’s always like that and I can never win.”

Creepy would be an understatement of how well Martin knew things she never had disclosed to anyone.

“You should’ve told me you have such a big family,” Eve tried to break the ice that stood between them, so thin it was barely there, but present nonetheless, especially with the way they stood so close with one another. Shoulder to shoulder, Martin reached for utensils and ceramics Eve finished cleaning. “I would’ve come more prepared in facing your brothers and sisters.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Martin said, and although Eve didn’t see them, she could sense a small smile blossomed in his face. “I hope they don’t overwhelm you.”

“Not at all,” But Eve had to chuckle because come to think of it, Martin’s brothers and sisters could be overwhelming. Maybe they’d got under her skin if she was not pretending to be Martin’s girlfriend. “They’re all so fun to be around with. I wish I have siblings to banter with like yours.”

Martin laughed at Eve’s teasing jab. He could never live down the stupid anecdotes his siblings shared when he was just a kid, could he now?

“So grateful you don’t work at Arsenal anymore,” He crouched down to insert all of the cleaned dishes to the dishwasher. “What a disaster if you spill them to everyone at Colney.”

It wasn’t supposed to rub Eve in all the wrong way but it somehow did. Was he that truly glad to be rid of her?

“Please don’t let me stop that.”

Eve looked up to Martin, who was now standing towering over her, eyes zeroed down on her with a look she couldn’t decipher. And maybe she didn’t want to figure out what lied beneath them, for she was terrified the answer would only hurt her. It was something she found out just now that Martin was rather good at it.

She gave him a small smile to hide what she was thinking, grounding herself to not give any piece of her away and reminding herself the last time she did give herself away, and Martin already hated them. Eve and coerced smile didn’t belong in the same sentence. “Stop what?”

“You smiling. I’ve missed that a lot.”

*solskinn means sunshine in norwegian.

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cloginthedrain · 9 months

Text

rooftops and vigilantes (part two) (matt murdock x reader)

summary: reader pays matt a visit at his office, and matt invites himself over. banter and flirtations ensue.

masterlist | previous | next

word count: 1169

notes: lots of banter, back and forth, and flirting. reader gets a little too confident. a bit of a shorter one, but only slightly. hope you like it, i do!!! i've really appreciated a lot of the lovely comments and support. i've been having a lot of fun writing this one.

comments & reblogs always appreciated! <3

—

You stand in front of the smudgy, glass door, and take a shaky breath.

Once you’ve mustered enough courage, you push the door open to the coffee shop, chest fluttering with excitement at the possibility of just seeing Matt. Built, rugged, but put together.

You approach the coffee bar, your usual guilty pleasure before your grocery run.

“Your usual?” Ellie muses, all smiles. Penning your name, this time with a winky face. Your eyes narrowed.

“Please,” you say graciously. You fumble in your hellish bag for the familiar feeling of your beat up, pleather wallet amongst the mess of your bag: apartment keys, wired earbuds, chapstick, lotion, and your expired lip tint. You might’ve left it behind.

“No, that’s okay.”

“Ellie. I’m paying,” you say firmly.

She grins. “No, what I mean is that Matt’s got it.”

“Matt?” You flush, shifting your weight. Your limbs suddenly feel heavy.

“Yes, Matt, he stopped by,” Ellie starts, a gleam of (obnoxious) curiosity in her eyes. “He said thanks for the whiskey. Whatever that means. You just missed him.”

Your features soften. Last night, sewing kits. Whiskey. Rugged, shirtless, sweaty. Late night, and hell, an early morning.

“Right,” you said. “Can I have that to go?”

“He got you this too.” Ellie places one of her freshly-baked crumbly raspberry lemon muffins on the counter.

You flush beet-red. Horrific.

You dodge further interrogation from your favorite nosy barista by excusing yourself to your booth to wait for your drink. You’re yet again rummaging in your bag, this time for a book to pretend to read. To no avail, you had left it on your bed-side table.

Chairs were still upturned onto the tables, warm lights illuminating the café. You practically run out of there, with your raspberry lemon muffin to go, as soon as your dirty chai hits the bar counter.

Your eye glimmers as soon as you step out. Across the street, a shiny metal plaque reads:

Nelson and Murdock. Attorneys at Law.

You figured some time to kill before you had to head back to hold your virtual discussion for a survey course in English Romanticism.

You languidly climb the steps, exhausted from the night before, and pushed the door open. You took in the poorly-lit room. A prim, freckled blonde woman clacking away at her laptop.

She looks up from her work with a soft, perfectly cordial smile. “How can I help you?”

“Uhm,” you interrupt, shyly. “I’m here to see Matt?”

“Oh, Matt? He should be here soon.”

The door slams behind you.

“He’s right here.” His hearty chuckle is unmistakable, one you could grow quite partial to.

“Right,” the blonde woman starts. “This is, erm—“ She stops short. She hadn’t gotten your name.

“Y/N,” Matt finishes. “Y/N, this is Karen. Our receptionist.”

“Nice to meet you, Karen,” You barely manage. The verbal thing comes and goes. Especially in the intimidating presence of a man, Matt, in a well-fitting suit. You never accounted for that in your streak of confidence. “Just came by to thank you for the muffin. And the chai. And for leaving me defenseless against our nosy, mutual barista. I, uh, saw your sign outside.”

As you’re blabbering you wonder if you crossed a line, coming into his work. The ball is in your court, right?

“Right,” He refoots. “I heard you’re partial to a raspberry lemon muffin.”

“Something like that,” you say. You sense some awkwardness. “Anyway, I’ll go. Thanks again.”

You turn to leave.

“Wait,” Matt starts.

If it was possible, your ears perked up. “Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tonight?”

You pretend to think for a moment, but not for a second more— trying to play it cool. You fail.

“You bet,” you practically beam.

As soon as you leave, Foggy stumbles past you through the door.

“Hey Froggy,” you say kindly, not noticing your mistake.

He turns his head to do a double-take as you walk out of the building. “Hey?”

Once he’s in the office, false-outraged, Foggy asks accusingly, “Matt, who was that?”

—

You did see him that night.

“Maybe you're not a vigilante,” you muse, admittedly a little wine drunk. “You’re a criminal. You’re robbing me, depriving me of my sleep.”

You’re sitting on the couch, legs across Matt’s lap, cradling a glass of wine. Student papers long discarded across your coffee table. You’re looser, a bit daring. You’re wearing your comfiest pair of sweats, heat be damned. Air-conditioning blasting.

“Right, I’m depriving you,” Matt laughs, further encouraging your antics. “You sure it’s not the deadlines you have to meet to sift through hundreds of student papers?” He’d also add guzzling insane amounts of caffeine factored into it.

“Nope, and I’m prepared to make my case.”

“You realize who you’re talking to?”

“I have a leg to stand on,” you proclaim, particularly audacious. You sit up. “I was an English major.”

“Meaning?”

“I also know how to argue,” you slur, tilting your head. A challenge.

Your face inched close enough that you felt his breath, short, tickle your skin. Saw the shadow of his stubble. His plump pink lips.

You lost any sort of nerve right then.

“Let’s get you some coffee, sweetheart,” Matt redirects, and then as an aside, says to himself, “Or get you to bed.”

—

You were horrified the next morning. You wanted to sink further into your bed, to be swallowed under your covers.

You had woken up late. 10 am. A ceremonious first.

A god awful headache too. Being taken with a night owl had its consequences.

You reach for your phone, and magically it's connected to the charger. Phone battery green, 100%. You peek at the notifications.

A missed call. Could be work, you reason. Blah.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

Matt.

“Blegh, stop that,” you groan. “How’d you get my number anyway?”

You wish you could say you were surprised, but Matt’s been a recurring theme in your life as of, well, these past few weeks.

“I have my ways,” Matt pauses.

You don’t say anything, but roll your eyes so hard.

“Let’s just say you really wanted me to have your number last night,” Matt practically gloats.

“Awh jeez,” you cringe, sitting up. You had forgotten that part.

At this point, you’re upright, just barely, and in pursuit of some sort of caffeine. Then you remember.

“Nooooo,” you moan, helplessly, and you’re back in your bed.

“What?”

“Remember when I, uh, ambushed you at your office?”

“Vaguely.”

“Right, so I was supposed to go grocery shopping,” you babble. “There is nothing in the cupboards, including but especially coffee. There’s some decaf for my mom when she visits. I suppose I can try and microdose the trace amounts of caffeine… That’s a lot of coffee. Nothing I’m not used to—”

“Or, I can bring you coffee.”

“Oh, Matt, no—” you start. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

“Already leaving.”

You slump further into your bed. “Suppose there’s no point in pretending that I’m not secretly pleased then.”

“Yep, see you soon, sweetheart."

The call clicks off, and you roll your eyes.

You really are pleased.

#matt murdock x reader #daredevil #matt murdock #daredevil x reader

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maladaptivewriting86 · 1 month

Text

Welcome Home - September Ch1

Eddie Munson x Reader, friends to lovers, slow burn

Also posted on ao3! This is part 1!

Summary: Reader has moved to a new city/state every few months since she was born. She shows up to Hawkins in '85 having to repeat her senior year after learning nothing last year due to changing schools 3 times.

Eddie is repeating his senior year as well, lucky for him. He meets reader in class two weeks into the year and is immediately drawn to her due to her I-don't-care attitude and her Metallica t-shirt.

The two hang out often, studying, drinking, smoking, and healing their respective traumas. But how long does reader have before her dad announces that they're packing up and leaving Hawkins forever, leaving Eddie and the new friends she's made behind forever?

Reader uses she/her pronouns but is non-binary. The term didn't exist in the 80s so she describes it as "I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one."

Reader is AFAB, there will be references to anatomy (smut), but for the most part, she's not really "girly".

AU, the upside down doesn't exist, Eleven and Will aren't mentioned (sorry).

CW for this chapter: mentions of parents with substance abuse issues

AN: This is absolutely just self-insert for me but I really like it and maybe it will be relatable to a small number of people or just entertaining, I don't know. But thanks for reading either way!

I'm planning on each chapter being somewhere between a day to a week of in-story time. Some might be super long and others kinda short, I'm not sure. This is my very first work that I've ever written so I have no idea how its going to work. Each month will have its own chapters (all contained here in this one work) and the story will just kinda flow through the months that reader is in Hawkins. Bear with me, this all might change at some point haha. I have a lot of ideas though as this is literally just my maladaptive daydreams put to paper. Eddie makes my brain melt. Enjoy!

Walking out of the school office with your class schedule in your hand you sigh, taking in the new surroundings once again. This is the eighth high school you've been to in the past four years, and the second time you've been a senior in one of them. After moving three times last year and missing so much of your first senior year, you had to start from scratch in a new school, Hawkins High. Pretty boring to name a school after the city, but you've seen it done so many times that you don't give a shit anymore. Just as long as this is your last one.

The receptionist in the office had pointed you in the direction of your assigned locker and handed you a sticky note with the combination on it. Memorizing the numbers on the gross-yellow paper, you head in the direction she told you to go. 982, 983, 984, 985... 986. That was yours. You stop in front of it and rest your head on the door as you look down and turn the lock in the correct order. You had no faith that this year would be your last, you already accepted that if you couldn't finish high school on your second attempt, then you would just drop out and figure out what to do after that. School is fucking tiring.

The bell rang to signal change of classes and students began to flood the hall. Already missed the first period and study hall, off to a great start. As you pop the lock open and step back a little to open the door, a solid body slams into your side and a book goes sliding down the corridor.

"Hey, watch it freak!" The body yells at you.

You turn to look at who just walked into you. It was a girl with platinum blonde hair in a super high ponytail; a cheerleader uniform; and her tits on full display, absolutely breaking the dress code.

"Sorry, didn't realize you liked to walk with your eyes closed." You grumbled as you rolled your eyes and turned back to your locker, beginning to unload your binders from your bag. She walked into you , that was definitely not your fault.

"What?" She snapped. She took a few steps to the side so that she was right next to you continuing to stare at the side of your face, and at your Metallica shirt, and your ripped black jeans, and dirty shoes. She instantly clocked you as someone who was beneath her so she narrowed her eyes and gave a sickening smile. "Ohhhh... great, another freak to join the freakshow. Just watch yourself okay? And don't get dirt on my uniform." She accented the last line by wiping down the front of her skirt with her hands aggressively a few times before stepping away and bounding down the corridor with her group of friends who looked identical to her, ponytails swishing in unison as they walked. One of them stopped to pick up the book that was dropped and handed it back to who you assume was their leader. All five of them turned to sneer at you before continuing on their way.

"I fucking hate cheerleaders." You thought to yourself as you closed your locker and looked at your schedule again. Your second class was English. An easy enough class, after a bit of a rough start in the hall.

As you entered your classroom you made your way to the desk at the front where the teacher was sitting.

"Hi, I'm y/n. I'm new, I just moved here yesterday and I was told to introduce myself to my teachers when I got to class so... hi." You said quietly to your new English teacher.

"Well hi! I'm Ms. Davies, it's nice to meet you. I'll write your name into the class list. Can I see your schedule?" She seemed way too smiley and chipper for your liking, but at least she didn't seem like she was going to be a hard-ass.

You handed her your schedule and she nodded and confirmed that you were in the right class. She copied your name down on her attendance list and then stood up, handing back your schedule.

"Please don't-" before you could ask her not to, she began announcing your name and welcoming you to the class.

"We have a new student today! Y/fn. Everyone please be kind, she'll be a little bit behind as we've already gotten through two weeks of curriculum but I'm sure she'll catch up quickly!" Smiling, probably very proud of herself for embarrassing you, she turned to you and pointed to an empty pair of seats at the back of the class. "You can take a seat back there... I would say 'next to Mister Munson' but it seems that he won't be joining us again-" just as she said that, a boy with long, curly, brown hair, a denim jacket adorned with pins and patches, ripped jeans, and absolutely no school supplies walked into the class. "Well, never mind. Here he is." She said, a little surprised by this guy's sudden appearance.

Keeping your head down to avoid the stares that you were most certainly receiving, you made your way to the back of the class and sat down in one of the seats Ms. Davies had pointed to.

The long haired boy's eyes hadn't left you since he walked through the door. He also made his way to his seat and sat down just slightly after you. "Metallica fan eh?" He said, nodding to the t-shirt you were wearing.

"Yeah." You said, a little more blunt than you meant for it to sound. "One of my favorites." You added, noting that most of the decor on his vest were metal bands.

"You've got good taste." He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, clearly not intending to pay attention to the class.

"Thank you." You said, honestly. "You seem to as well," pointing at one of his pins, you said "Judas Priest is pretty good too."

The boy beamed. He was honestly really cute, especially when he smiled and his dimples were on full display. He squeezed his crossed arms tighter and wiggled a little, obviously a little giddy, and leaned over to you a bit "I like you. I think I'm going to annoy you for the rest of the year." He said with a sort-of-joking-sort-of-not tone.

You let out a soft laugh and smiled back at him. "Sounds good." You replied, somewhat sarcastically, though you also weren't going to say no to gaining a friend immediately. Especially one who seemed to have the same taste as you.

He extended one of his hands toward you, intending for you to shake it. "My name’s Eddie." He introduced himself smoothly, his name sounded so royal leaving his tongue.

"I'm y/n." You replied, shaking his hand gently. His fingertips were a little rough, he probably played guitar. "I guess you missed when my name was announced to the world by Ms. Davies up there." You let go of his hand and gestured lightly up to the front of the room where Ms. Davies was writing something on the board. Something you're already not learning.

"I did miss that, unfortunately. I'm sure it wasn’t embarrassing at all and everyone was all 'hi y/n! Welcome to Hawkins High! We hope you have a wonderful time here! Go Tigers!'" He raised the pitch of his voice when he imitated the students, making you laugh a little harder than before.

"That's absolutely horrifying! You make them sound like a cult! I'm glad they didn't say that to me, I think I would've walked right out the door and never came back!"

"I think anyone would!" He chuckled. He looked very pleased with himself that he made you laugh as he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed again, but still smiling wide.

As the two of you settled into comfortable silence, you took your notebook out of your bag and attempted to take notes on… MooBath ? With the fantastic mixture of Ms. Davies’ terrible writing, your terrible eyesight, and your lack of glasses, the board at the front of the room was nearly unreadable from where you were sitting. Squinting your eyes and leaning forward you could make out that it was actually MacBeth that she was teaching, not something a cow would say while getting cleaned.

“Forgot your glasses at home?” Eddie asked softly.

“No, I don't have any. Can't afford them.” You said simply, trying not to make a big deal over the fact that your parents didn't care enough about you to spend less money on their addictions so they could actually take care of their child.

“Oh. Well that sucks. You should sit closer to the front then.” He said, like it wasn't the most obvious solution.

You laughed lightly, “I would've but this was the only seat open and I doubt anyone would be kind enough to move just for me.” You looked back at him, he looked very comfortable leaning back in his chair, his eyes still fixed on you.

“Don't ask ‘em then. Just sit. We don't have assigned seating so you can sit wherever you want.” He shrugged and leaned forward, putting his crossed arms on the desk. “Plus it would be fun to see the cheerleaders whine about not getting their way.” A somewhat devious smile spread across his face.

“We'll see.” You said with a small smile, turning your attention back to the teacher. You decided that after missing the first half of the lesson you should at least try to take notes from just her voice alone. It was a struggle, she talked very fast and went on plenty of tangents that didn't have much to do with the subject matter. By the end of the class, you had about a page and a half of notes that you were only 60% confident in being correct and a bit of a headache from squinting at the board.

The bell finally rang while Ms. Davies was mid-sentence. It startled her a bit but she dismissed you all and wished everyone a good rest of the day. On to lunch!

As you packed up your things and exited the classroom, Eddie stuck right by you chattering away. “Hey you should come sit with me and my friends for lunch! You'll fit right in! They're metal fans too!” He seemed to have a ton more energy than he did in class for some reason, or maybe he was quiet on purpose so that you could try to take notes.

Stopping at your locker to exchange your books for your lunch, you smiled at him “Okay, I'd love to.” Why not? Worst that could happen is they hate you and you spend your time at another school completely alone. Best case? You gain some friends for a bit, until you have to pack up and move to another town in a month or two.

You could feel that Eddie was practically vibrating as he led you to the cafeteria, eager to introduce you to his friends. He kept his hand on your shoulder like he was afraid you'd run away or get lost on the short journey. Approaching the long lunch table he waved his hand toward a few younger boys on the left, probably freshmen or juniors, and ordered them to “Scoot!”. They looked at him like he asked them to sacrifice themselves. “I said scoot!” He repeated, now using both hands to usher them all down one seat.

“Well, you don't have to-” you tried to stop the disruption of their natural seating but Eddie just waved at you stating “They're fine. Have a seat!” He beamed once again when you took your seat, every single boy at the table staring at you like you'd just appeared out of thin air.

“Friends, this is y/n.” Eddie gestured to you like he was unveiling a masterpiece at a museum. The rest of the table greeted you with tentative “Hi.”s. One guy in a leather jacket, on the opposite side of the table asked “You managed to bring a girl to our table? How'd you do that man?”

You chuckled a little “Well, I'm only vaguely a girl, you shouldn't really think of me as one if that makes you more comfortable. You can call me whatever you want, honestly. I’ve heard it all. But I wouldn't be caught dead hanging out with cheerleaders and doing my makeup and giggling and shit. I'm not into all that girly stuff. But uh… anyway… hi.” You gave a little wave and looked at everyone around the table. Most of the older guys looked similar to Eddie in terms of clothing style. They looked pretty metal and some of them had jackets like Eddie. The younger boys were a little more toned down but they seemed to fit in really well with the general vibe of the table.

Eddie smiled at you as he pulled up a chair and sat at the head of the table, like a king, you thought. “y/n here, is a new kid. Just moved in from…” He looked to you to finish his sentence for him.

“I don't even know, I only lived there for three months. Somewhere in south Indiana. Started with a B I think?” you shrugged. You genuinely couldn't remember the name, and the city itself was already a blur in your memory, as with most of the cities you've lived in.

“Bloomington?” one of the boys to your left asked. He had very curly hair tucked up into a hat that said Thinking Cap .

“Yeah, sure, that sounds right.” You replied, opening your lunch bag and taking out the sandwich you made this morning. “Pretty boring place if you ask me.”

“Hey, wait, are you the one that just moved next door to me?” Another boy to your left asked. This one had shoulder length black hair and bangs, it kind of seemed like he was trying to look like Eddie if you were being honest.

“Probably? I just got here, dude. I don't even know my own address, let alone yours!” You laughed, trying not to sound mean, but wanting to get the message across that you don't know anyone or anything in this town. You took a bite out of your sandwich and looked towards Eddie, who was once again leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, looking at you.

Eddie laughed and adjusted his sitting position so that he was leaning back just a little bit more, legs spread apart like he owned the place. “She’s new, like I said. But I think she fits in with us already. An outcast, a metal head, possibly a freak like yours truly.” He meant “freak” in the same way that the cheerleader had meant it when she walked into you at your locker; a person who doesn't conform to the normie bullshit and instead proudly displays their true self to the world.… that's probably how he meant it, you think.

“I appreciate that, Eddie.” you said, smiling at him. Something in his eyes flashed as you said his name, fear? Arousal? Just simple appreciation? You weren't sure.

The rest of the table appeared to accept that you were part of the group immediately. It seemed that Eddie was their leader and they would follow his every word. Again, like he was a king. Unlike other “kings” you had met, Eddie actually seemed to take pride in being a leader; he accepted the responsibility and he cared about his “subjects” a huge amount. He certainly had power, but his friends respected him and his ideas. It felt very fair.

“So what do you guys do in this town?” You asked between bites of your sandwich. “Sex, drugs, alcohol and loud music?” You were only half joking with that suggestion, they were the main things most people did in every place you've been to, but you were looking for more of a “places to go” answer.

“I mean, you're pretty spot on.” The guy right across the table piped up. He had sort of poofy hair and a plaid vest that had a bunch of pins on it. “We’re in a band so… we’re the loud music bit.” He gestured to Eddie and the two other guys on his side of the table.

“Woah really?” You were honestly a little excited about this information. “I assume a metal band, yeah?”

“Duhhhhh!” Eddie droned, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Nothing else is worth playing.”

“Well, slow down there cowboy.” you laughed, “Other music is good too! Doesn't all have to be sick guitar solos and screaming your lungs out. Sometimes it's nice to chill out to some Elvis.”

“Oh god.” Eddie suddenly looked scared and sick as he stared directly at you. “I was wrong… you're secretly… a normie!” He dramatically flailed his arms and pretended to pass out, like the shock of your extended music taste had killed him. The whole table laughed at him, you included. The sheer drama of this man was keeping you hooked, you were already having fun and you had only just met him. He was comfortable to be around though, like you’d known him since childhood. When he opened his eyes and sat up, you were the first thing he looked at, your smiling face, laughing at his little act.

“You should come watch us play some time!” The guy in the plaid vest offered.

Pulling your eyes away from Eddie, you answered, “I’d love to! Where do you play?” You absolutely would love to see them play! You just hope that they’re some kind of good.

“Every Tuesday at a bar called The Hideout. It's a little far from here.”

“Oh… well I don't have a car, anyone I could hitch a ride with?” You asked, looking around the table. The younger kids probably didn't have cars either but maybe they had other friends who went to see the band play.

“We can drive you.” Eddie answered quickly. “You can be our first groupie.” You think you saw him wink at you.

“Hold on, really? You never offer rides to non-band members. Something about the sanctity of the van or something?” Plaid vest looked shocked at Eddie’s immediate offer.

“Yeah, well, I've made an exception.” Eddie waved his hand and his words were accepted.

“Really, you don't have to if that's not your thing. I can find my own way there some time, or I'll watch you play someplace else. No biggie. Don't make exceptions for me, I'm not special.” You pleaded. You really didn't want to just force your way into their group, it could end badly if you pissed people off. You could handle being alone or kicked out but you wouldn't be able to handle being the reason the band or the friend group broke up.

“No, really, it's fine. If we bring you along then you'll be forced to listen to our whole set and then maybe we'll finally have a fan!” Eddie explained. “We play tonight if you want to come?”

Suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed, you pulled away, “I… can’t tonight. I have a lot of unpacking to do. I still have to find all my clothes.” You laughed a little uncomfortably. “Next time though, yeah?”

Eddie looked a little saddened by that, but understanding nonetheless. “That's okay!” He reassured, “Next time.” He gave a warm smile to let you know he wasn't trying to pressure you.

“We- we also have a DnD club!” Thinking Cap kid said excitedly.

At this, your eyes brightened. You'd played DnD a few times at different schools, they always ended on cliffhangers though, because you left before the campaign could really get going. “Really!?” You asked. “That's so cool!”

Everyone at the table got excited then; asking you if you were serious, what kind of character you played, if you've ever DM'd, just question after question, none of them getting answered. You laughed as the boys bombarded you with queries and Eddie progressively got more and more annoyed with them.

“SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” He yelled, silencing the table immediately, and a few others next to yours. He was standing now and he turned to you, “You're lying right? There's no way you're actually into DnD.” He looked a little hesitant waiting for your answer. Hopeful, maybe, that you were telling the truth.

“No, I'm not lying! Honestly, I've played a few times but none of the campaigns I've been a part of have gotten anywhere because I moved before we could get to the good stuff.” You explained.

“Ho-ly-shit!” Eddie said, emphasizing each syllable. “You're perfect. You're actually perfect. Sent from heaven, we've gained an angel, boys!” He raised his arms to the air like he was praising a God, the table roared with excitement again. Then he dropped his hands down onto the table with a bang! Making you all jump a little.

Suddenly very serious, he leaned into his hands, looming over you slightly and asked “What's your class and level?”

Realizing he was quizzing you, or maybe this was a hazing? You answered immediately, “I play a Half-Elf Paladin named Sebastian. With my limited amount of play time I've managed to eke him up to level 5.” proud of your answer you lifted your chin up to Eddie, showing him you weren't lying and you definitely knew your shit.

The table was silent again, watching the two of you battle. “Backstory?” He questioned.

“Sebastian was abducted by a group of thieves when he was 15. He spent 20 years under their command, being the muscle to their brains. One night, the thieves’ camp was raided and Sebastian joined the raiders’ side, killing the people who took him hostage. Now, he's sworn an oath to kill or punish every thief or criminal who holds prisoners or slaves captive. He’s also searching for his lost parents that he was ripped away from.” You held eye contact with him the whole time you told your story. Your character's backstory was something you were very proud of and you weren't going to let him make a fool of you.

Eddie leaned back away from you, sitting comfortably in his chair again. “Not bad.” he praised. “I'm thoroughly impressed. I guess we can add ‘nerd’ to your list of qualities that make you fit in here.”

You smiled at him, a warm feeling in your chest growing as you felt the validation from him. “Thank you. I wear that title with pride.”

“Okay! So she's joining us right!? This is fricken awesome!” Thinking Cap shook his clenched hands in front of him in excitement.

Still staring at Eddie, you raised an eyebrow to him, questioning if he wanted you to join or not.

“That's up to her.” He stated. “I think it's clear that the invitation is open.”

Glancing at the table full of smiling guys, all of them on the edge of their seat, waiting for your answer, you simply said, “Then I accept.”

The table roared a final time and you received a few pats on the back and a few “Welcome to hellfire!”s. Meanwhile, Eddie was grinning from ear to ear, trying to play down his excitement, but you could see the way he squeezed his crossed arms together, the same way he did when you talked about music in class. He was definitely happy that you said yes.

When the excitement finally died down and everyone settled into a lighter conversation, Eddie scooted his chair closer to you and whispered somewhat close to your ear. “If we're too much for you, you can tell us to back off. I didn't mean to bombard you with so much shit on your first day. You just seem really cool, and that's rare around here, so I wanted you to have some equally cool friends.”

Turning your head slightly to look at him, you noticed how comfortable he was with being so close to you. And how comfortable you were with it as well. “I'm enjoying it actually,” you whispered back. “I've never felt this welcome before.”

“Good.” Was all he said as he moved away from you, showing off his dimples again with a smile.

You finished your lunch while listening to the multiple conversations happening around the table. Two boys were bickering, three were talking about guitar solos, and Eddie and Plaid Vest were discussing something very quietly. You thought to yourself “Okay, I definitely think like it here for once.”

“Hey, lunch is almost over,” Plaid Vest announced, looking to you. “What class do you have next?”

Reaching into your back pocket, you pulled out your schedule. “Ummm… History, with O'Donall.”

“NO WAY!” Eddie yelled from right beside you, startling you a bit. “So do I! Let me see your schedule!”

You handed the paper over to Eddie and both he and Plaid Vest (you really should have asked everyone’s name) looked over every class. “None of those are with me, unfortunately.” Plaid Vest said, slightly disappointed. The end-of-lunch bell rang and students began packing up their lunches, returning their trays, and leaving the cafeteria. “I'll see you later tho!” He waved at you with a genuine smile and left the cafeteria.

“You’ll never fucking believe this, but we have every single class together!” Eddie said excitedly.

“No way.” You said flatly, you did not believe that one bit. The rest of the table started packing up their things as well and heading out. Everyone gave you a polite “bye” on their way out.

“I'm serious! Well, except for first period, but the rest of today we do! I’d show you my own schedule but it's in my locker.” Eddie insisted. He stood up as you did and kept to your side as you made your way back to your locker to gather your things.

“So what you're saying is: I'm never going to get rid of you?” You joked, opening up your locker.

“Oh absolutely!” Eddie said with a devilish grin on his face. “Guess you and I have to be friends forever now.”

“Well… forever for me might only be a couple months before I move again, but I think I can handle you for that long.” You teased, pulling the last of your class stuff out of your locker and shutting it.

“You're going to move again? You just got here.” Eddie asked. You both started down the hall towards history class, Eddie leading the way.

“Well, I've moved probably near fifty times in my eighteen years of life, so… it's not unlikely that I'll move again.”

“FIFTY!?” Eddie yelled

“Calm down,” you laughed at his sudden outburst, that number usually surprises people. “Yeah something like that. Makes it hard to keep friends.” You said, sounding a lot sadder than you meant to.

“That fucking blows. Why do you move so much?” Eddie was genuinely curious about you, he was leaning in and listening to your every word.

“You'd have to ask my dad. He pisses off a lot of people and then we’re forced to skip town before he gets his ass beat.” You explained. “He's not in trouble with the cops or anything, just like… landlords, neighbors, bar owners, liquor store employees… pissed off a mayor once too.” God your dad’s a mess.

“Wow, what an asshole.” He stepped through the doorway of your history class and held his arm out in front of him, waving you through like you were royalty. It made you laugh, and made other people stare.

“You're telling me.” You said, exaggerated. You walked past Eddie and quickly made your way to the teacher at the head of the room, wanting to introduce yourself quickly this time so that there weren't so many students in the room for her to announce your presence to.

This teacher, once again, confirmed that this was the right class and welcomed you to Hawkins High. As she finished writing your name on the attendance sheet, a shrill voice let out an exasperated “UGH!” from behind you.

“This is my seat, you freak! Go find a trash can to sit in, or better yet! Go jump off a bridge!” The same blonde haired cheerleader who had smashed into you in the hall was currently screaming at Eddie, who was sitting at a pair of desks in the third row with his feet on the table, not looking at her at all.

“Miss Blackwell! That is enough! None of these seats belong to anyone! Please find another desk to sit in. Mister Munson has already chosen that one.” Ms. O'Donall stated, sternly. She then sighed and added, “And thank you for joining us today, mister Munson.” sounding like she was annoyed that he showed up at all.

The cheerleader and her friend stomped away from Eddie who was now smiling at you, very proud of himself. They sat down at a different pair of desks which caused another two students who had just walked in, to be upset and move back a row, they caused another two to move, and another, and another, and another. Eddie had just disrupted almost every student’s seating habit single-handedly.

“What are you doing?” you whispered to Eddie as you took your seat next to him. “You really wanted to hear the cheerleaders whine huh?”

“Of course! It sounded like fun when I suggested it, and I didn’t think you would do it, so I did.” He took his feet off the desk in front of him and leaned toward you so only you could hear him. “Plus, I figured this was a good spot, you can see the board from here right?”

Did he really just force some cheerleaders to move seats just so that you wouldn't have to sit at the back of the room and squint to see the board? “Eddie!” You whispered, scolding him a bit. “You did not just do that so I could see the board.” You were looking him directly in the eyes, searching for some other explanation than kindness towards you, someone he just met.

Eddie just shrugged his shoulders with a big smile on his face and leaned back in his chair, assuming the same position as he seemed to always do, arms crossed, legs spread.

You continued to stare at him, bewildered that someone would do that for you. A loud voice pulled you away though, “Miss y/ln. I don't think today's lesson is on mister Munson’s forehead, so could you face the board where it actually is, please?” Ms. O’Donall, who you now know will be a hard-ass, was looking directly at you, lips pursed together. “Sorry.” you said quietly, and turned to face her. She nodded sharply and went back to the lesson. You heard a few giggles from behind you, probably the cheerleaders.

You took out your notebook and began copying the notes Ms. O'Donall was writing on the board, trying your hardest to not look at Eddie. Something in your head kept wanting to stare at him, to get closer to him, to really make a friend this time around. But you knew if you did that, it would end in heartbreak when you were dragged off to another city with your parents. So you pushed it all down. Hanging out with the boys won't be so bad, there's no harm in having fun, you just won't let yourself get too attached to them and the break will be clean. Hopefully.

The rest of the day went by smoothly. You managed to get some notes from Ms. O'Donall on the two weeks that you missed so you wouldn't be so behind. And your last class of the day was biology, probably the only class that you learned anything in during all of last year, so it felt like more of a review than new information. Eddie chose to sit you near the front in biology as well, though no one yelled at him in that class, which was honestly surprising.

When the final bell rang, Eddie followed you once again to your locker. “How did you understand a single thing that Mr. Grinnell said?”

“I've been through it before. This is my second senior year. Fuck every other class, but bio? That's my shit. Well, and art, but that doesn't count.” You explained, pulling your jacket and backpack from your locker.

“I dunno, I've been through it before too, but I think it made even less sense this time around.” He rubbed his forehead like thinking made his brain hurt.

You closed your locker and placed your hand on his shoulder. “If you need some help, I don't mind. After all you've done for me so far, I think I owe you something. We can help each other finally finish our senior years. Well… help each other for as long as I'm here.”

Eddie pulled his hand away from his face and looked up at you. “You serious? Because I think I could really use the help. I'm dumb as shit so it might be a challenge, but I'm not gonna say no if it means we get to hang out.” He seemed to be excited about your offer.

“Yeah, I'm absolutely serious. Gives me a reason to stay away from my house and my parents.” You really hated sitting around the house with your dad who was always drunk and mad, and your mom who was always high and stupid. “But not tonight though, I really do have to find my clothes or else I'll be showing up to school tomorrow in this exact outfit. Plus, you have a gig to get to.” You smiled at him warmly, making sure he knew that you weren't just being nice for the sake of it. You really did like the idea of having someone to keep you on track in school, and you had no problem with helping him do the same.

“Deal!” He excitedly accepted and stuck out his hand for you to shake.

You took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “No taking that back now, we've made a deal!” You said, pointing at him.

He grinned. “Scout's honor!” he swore, raising his hand to place it over his heart, his other hand still holding yours.

The two of you made your way outside, ready to head home. “Need a ride?” Eddie offered.

“No, that's okay, I'll walk.” You politely declined.

“Are you sure? If you live near Wheeler, that's a pretty far walk!” Wheeler must be the kid you moved in next to. The one with black hair that looked like Eddie’s.

“Honestly, it's not that bad of a walk. I made it to school that way.” Granted, you were late two periods, but that wasn't entirely your fault. You didn't have your alarm clock unpacked yet and you woke up later than you meant to. “It's pretty straightforward. Plus, it's how I usually learn the city. If I get lost, I'll just wander till I find my way back.”

Eddie looked a little worried for a moment so you patted him on the shoulder and reassured him, “I'll be fine. Promise. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah!?”

He hesitated for a moment but you could see him decide against arguing with you. “Alright then, yeah. See you tomorrow, y/n.” He said, nodding and smiling.

“Bye, Eddie.” You gave him a big smile and a little wave and headed off in the direction of your new house.

The walk home took about 20 minutes, plenty of time to sort out your head and take note of all that had happened in the day. You made six friends in one day, definitely a new record for you! You joined a DnD party, possibly became a groupie, pissed off some cheerleaders, and gained a study buddy. There's a good chance that this town wasn't going to be the worst you've ever stayed in. But the looming question of “just how long will this last?” would never leave your mind.

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