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adoregojo · 2 months

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↬ two paths 一 ⦁ nagi.s, reo.m

▶︎ sooooooooooooo... this is some rotting dabble i abandoned, and since Im kind of desperate for any glimpse of motivation, i finished it. and surprise, surprise! its a reo and nagi fic lmaolmao.

▶︎ summary: reo have had a crush on you for a good long two years, and when it's the time to word his love to you, but a obstruct of your part says otherwise. ▶︎ context: nagi is your childhood friend, jealousy, idk if this counts as a love triangle? it's more like your a brick head, some angst (ofc) kind of a plottwist !!gn reader!!

"i like you, I've liked you ever since you stepped into my world, i like everything about you, your smile, your eyes, your gentle hands, your laugh, and most of all your soul that kept me hostage. and i-"

the hang up sound cut him off.

silence fell upon the other side of the phone, only the stillness of the disconnected tone nudging him back to reality. his hold on the phone was a robust one, so stout to the point of a crack to echo. the compound of bitterness, remorse, frustration, all were hefty on the little pinning heart of his.

and with that, you rejected reo, without even saying a word.

and the next days were nothing but a grievous duration, to him the most. as much as reo didn't want to see you for a while, there was no escaping you when you were in the same school, classroom, 一hell, even club. you were in every corner and every ditch, and he'll be a dead lier if he said that your appearance alone wouldn't tiptoe on his heartstrings. reo can stay still ever so firmly and yet you'd still be able to prod him out of his ground as convenient.

reo wanted to be mad at you, to hate you even, but he couldn't, he sincerely couldn't. even when the strain was tense, unbearable, but somehow it also felt pitifully suffocated, graciously. it was you after all, where he felt like a fragile creature under your spell, gosh一 you had reo warped around your finger with cement.

nevertheless, what drove him to the edge was how you operated it. while reo handled it by immersing himself in two blankets and eat ice cream to pacified him to crying himself to sleep. however, you on the other hand was having the time of your life. greeting him good morning to saying goodbyes, even asking him how his day went, did his confession meant that little to you?

reo wondered if you bat an eye, you just denied him after all, but some acknowledgment would've been great. or at least have a talk about it. but instead you acted like it never even happened. the idea of you skipping over his feelings made him sick to his core, it sounded so ill-suited, you above all if not the most considerate, thoughtful person he'd ever met. that's how reo fell for you in the first place.

he wasn't gonna apologies for being selfish, he wanted you to himself. reo kept all his feelings for you bottled up for a good old two years, and he just cannot bare with the fear of someone else stealing you anymore 一something that kept him on trails of restless nights一

maybe that's what herd him away from you, the decedent between the two grew by each day. yet reo loved you too much to live with the consequences of his actions, he can't even look at you without screaming 'why don't you care as much as i do', your sudden unfamiliarity stings him slowly and most of all painfully.

for you to blow him away like a dust that burdens your clothes felt it was caused by a clone, or did he just never knew you like he thought he did?

it ached to see you asking him if he's okay, if you did something wrong to drive him away. and goddamn it hurts seeing you like this, he would rather bang his head to the wall repeatedly than see that anguished expression ever again, and worst of all, reo was the reason for it.

you were heavy on his mind 一as if you weren't already一 the recollection of you standing with your sweaty palms rubbing against each other, a bad habit you do when you get uneasy, he really fucked up to the point where you have became a nervous wreck in his presence. your utter was light, questioning if he even wanted to be your 'friend' anymore.

you weren't the one to blame, reo was the one who stopped talking to you, stopped sitting with you for lunch, he even withdrew the club you two shared 一he didn't even have a liking for it, just joined because you were there一 all that and you still tugged on the last tie of faith reo would walk back into your life with open arms.

but reo didn't want to be your 'friend', not anymore. he wanted to be the one to protect you, to understand you, he wanted to be your man, your other half more anything, for him to be your everything just like you are his. you can't just make heaven a living place on earth then walk away when he was on knees for you.

he left you at halt, saying that he needed some time. you never knew time for what because he walked away before letting you word anything out. so now, his hands buried deep in his pockets, he felt heavy, mind and heart on a race track. he felt awful, the image of you standing in confusion, lost on what to do will hunt him to his grave. he tried running his fingers throughout his violet lockes, he was petty, selfish, and reo knew he could've worded it better instead of this.

from the corner of his eye, he could spot a bunch of flowers fluttering under the rush of air, hit by the sunlight to outshine any other plants besides. he could've think of how beautiful they looked, but no, the first thing that popped out his mind was the image of how bliss you'll be seeing them flourish just the way you liked it.

reo contemplating his actions, the pure, straightforward out of his heart gates confession and how far it had driven him. how beyond it had tossed what you two had. something blended with bittersweetness squeezed within his chest, envisioning of your smile made it a challenge to breathe.

so he keeps on strolling, trying to straighten himself until a familiar tall white headed form comes to his view. ranking ahead of a vending machine, nagi was too busy searching for what it appears to be a coin to even notice reo.

nagi was your friend, the one who watched the two of you downfall in silence. he didn't say a thing about it, didn't get involved and much rather concentrate on his phone-games. but there was something else, nagi have been your friend for what reo have been told since childhood. it was something anyone can figure out in the first glance, nagi doesn't leave your side for what it seems like eternally, he remained as your sidekick for decades. he witnessed all your phases, your growth. and he wasn't planning on departure his spot. it was a rare sight to see nagi not glued to your side, did the sky spare him? did his desperation reaches the empyrean?

"hey," reo announced his presence, nagi's bored eyes soaring over him. so the purple head flipped a coin to his direction, nagi tamed it halfway, staring at the single coin then back at his friend. "need another one." he uttered flatly as ever, so reo push out a sigh as he tossed him another one. the snowy head mummers a low thanks.

"listen, i need to tell you something." reo enunciates after a moment of hesitation, caressing the back of his neck as his lilac hues kept on swirling around. his friend just humming in acknowledgment, supporting his chin with his hand while still examining over the endless optionals of drinks.

"it's about yn."

nagi rattled momentarily, your name was like a cold water on his senses.

well, that was easy. reo thought. "i did something a few weeks ago, and i think i fucked up everything." he says, undertone. as if he was admitting an unforgivable crime.

"what did you do?" there was something off about nagi's tone, his grip on the coins was merciless. but his face still seemed boarded, nonchalantly but oddly firmed for some reason.

"i kind of admitted my feelings to them..."

nagi's daze expression shattered in an instant, not anything crazy, but his eyes grew obscure, casing over reo like a giant blacked cloud.

for nagi to carry that kind of aura was eccentric, that face would only arise every time an unnamed got a little too close to you. at that time, reo convinced himself that he was imagining that, because nagi out of all people stood his ground when it comes to dating, he'd always say the same thing 'dating sounds like a hassle'. and sometimes something wild like 'don't need someone else around, I already have yn.' reo wasn't a backstabber, he only confessed to you because he lived under the roof that his friend wasn't even able to handle anything intrigued with romance.

"i just, been liking them for ages. and i found the strength to finally say it to them, they-"

"hung up on you." the snowy head finished his line, which made reo eyes widen a bit.

he shifted awkwardly, "haha, did they tell you? how embarrassing.." he tried laughing it off, trying to avoid nagi's gaze for his sake.

"they didn't." nagi spoke quickly, voice strained than usual.

"oh? so how did you?.."

"because i did it. i was the one who hanged up."

there was a moment of lull, where not even the waves of wind could sooth over the tension. reo stood still, waiting for nagi to stick out his tongue playfully and shout 'gotcha!', praying for whoever might've fell upon to this to be a sick prank.

"you what?" he doesn't even realize he spoke before the words had already slipped.

nagi sigh tiredly, his fingers still at halt to press the numbers of his wanted drink, he didn't like focusing on two thing at the same time. "i thought you'd figure it out already. man, do i have to explain myself now? what a hassle." he let out softly.

"nagi, you-"

reo doesn't get get the chance to speak, to think, before nagi cut him off swiftly handling the conversation, like he knew this was coming. "listen, reo. i like being your friend, but i can't let you have yn." his words kept hurtling reo, it all poured down at his like a sucker punch.

"i don't understand."

"it's not that hard, i liked them first, i found them first. so they're basically mine."

oh, oh.

it all made sense now. reo felt like an idiot, why is he seeing this now? this is why you were clueless, because you didn't answer it in the first place. why, why was he so rushed to say it and not letting what he thought was you speak first.

every time when nagi would drink from the same bottle of yours, when he would twirl around a piece of your hair randomly, when his head would rest on your shoulder in every ride home, when he would shut down every time reo rambled about you, he just got it. why was he just connecting the puzzle? was his feelings for you so blinding that he couldn't see this?

reo wanted to say something, in fact things. but the lump in his throat clogs his attempts to protests. leaving his mouth agape.

and it was like nagi couldn't get a hold of concern about this, in fact he found waiting for his drinks to make it way down more interesting. yet he sensed a blazing breeze from his friend's direction, it was hard not to when they were on the same burden as an elephant. so the snowy head swiftly retorted, "plus, you already are the standard, right? I'm pretty sure you can find someone else, it'll be better if you found one quicker."

after that, nagi bent over to grab what was supposed to be his lemon tea alongside your favourite one. boredom eyes doubled-dyed at the cans, mostly at yours before blowing out a vague breath一did he just scoff?

"why you.."

"sorry, don't like sharing."

and with that, nagi walked away. head empty with the only maintenance thing was a picture of you as he handed you your favourite flavour with the money that wasn't even his. leaving reo dumbfounding at his back, he didn't get a say on this, like this wasn't even meant for him.

this wasn't a stage he can purchase to himself, not even to earn a role. he felt like a third-wheel in you and nagi's love tale.

it loathes him, brings him to edge even. but most of all, reo now wanted you more than anything.

#bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #nagi x reader #reo x reader #reo mikage x reader #nagi seishiro x reader

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denim-mixtapes · 2 months

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Nothin' but a Good Time - [1/?]

Wealthy!Steve Harrington x Fem!Stripper!Reader Rating: Eventually E, this chapter contains no smut yet but mentions drug and alcohol use and strip clubs. Words: 3.7k

AO3

It's 1996 and Steve Harrington has found himself, somehow, with the fancy office job and lush apartment and more than enough disposable income to spend on booze and drugs and one night stands to distract himself from how much he HATES his scummy corporate law job and too-big, too-empty apartment. You, after years of saving, begging cheapskates and creeps for tips as a waitress by day and dancing for bigger tips from bigger creeps after dark, finally afford yourself the opportunity to move into the fancy downtown apartment of your dreams. When you move in next door to Steve Harrington, there's no way of knowing if you've just met the next great love(r) of your life or the biggest pain in your ass you'll ever know. It's entirely possible that it could be both.

November, 1996 – Steve

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A faint rhythm builds from behind the door of Steve Harrington’s office, slow, steady, louder and louder until eventually the sound is muffled and interrupted by a low groan.

“Fuck!”

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Just outside the door, his secretary is left aghast, wondering when she missed the arrival of this midday rendezvous and exactly when Harrington had become so daring. Sure, she’s seen her fair share of interns and lower level assistants escorted into his office after late stressful nights or the occasional holiday party, but he’s never been so brave as to interrupt the work day for a bit of afternoon delight. The kid may be a little dense sometimes, but he isn’t that dumb.

Usually Harrington is by the book, strictly on schedule and often working through lunch to stay on the boss’ good side. So the fact that he’s running late to a meeting in favor of a roll in the hay, well, she is shocked to say the least.

Corralling all of her bravery into one swift motion, she knocks on the door and is surprised to hear his, “come in,” right away. Maybe a little haggard and hushed in one breath, but immediate nonetheless. Needless to say, the stout woman is nervous about what she’ll find on the other side of the door when she opens it.

What she finds, however, is nothing more than a slightly rumpled version of Steve Harrington. Tie undone, sleeves of his collared shirt shoved up to the elbows, and his glasses placed gingerly on the desk beside him. His hair is a riot from where he was just repeatedly banging his forehead against the desk, sporting a wide swath of plump red skin above his eyebrows as evidence of the act. No, she hadn’t walked in on anything indecent, only the culmination of stress and burnout on her young boss.

“Sorry for the noise, Linda,” he breathes, scrubbing a palm over one tired eye and down his cheek. “I just– there’s no elaborate explanation here. It’s just been a day.” He types something quickly into the computer before him and then presses the power button on the boxy monitor, turning to give her his full attention with his hands folded on the desk in front of him. “What can I do for you?”

She mirrors his posture, fingers laced together but hanging limp at her midsection, “I was just wondering if I should call Mr. Greene and inform him you won’t be able to make it to the 3 o’clock partner meeting.”

Eyeing the clock on the wall beside him, Steve’s eyes widen to saucers and his chair scrapes loudly against hardwood floor as he stands up in a haste, collecting paperwork and wayward supplies into his briefcase as he does. “Shit.” His brows knit in a gesture of apology for his language, but Linda simply chuckles and steps out of his way. “Sorry, sorry! Thank you, Lin!”

—

No matter how hard he tries to act the part of a corporate bigwig asshole, Steve is convinced he may never get the hang of it. If he were to be honest, he isn’t entirely sure how he made it this far. Truthfully, he’s hanging on by the skin of his teeth and the Harrington name.

After a year of hopping from minimum wage job to minimum wage job, he finally broke down and listened to his father’s demands. Just get the damn degree, Steven, he’d said, I have a job all ready to be laid at your feet, all you have to do is pull your head out of your ass and get the degree. So he did. He sucked it up, used the influence of his family name and a bit more of the Harrington fortune to attend the most prestigious law school he never would have been able to get into with his academic record alone. When he graduated, as promised, he was offered a position just above entry level with a 401k and a more than generous benefits package. He wasn’t sure how many strings his father had to pull or how much bribing it took, but he landed this cushy job that got him out of his childhood home and into an apartment of his own, something that he’s sure benefited not only himself, but also the parents who were clearly sick of putting him up well past 18. Over the better half of the last decade, he took ‘Fake it till you make it’ to heart and managed to charm his way up the corporate ladder, and now here he is: pushing thirty with a private corner office, the title of junior partner, representing corporations he didn’t care much for and working under senior lawyers he liked even less…but this job pays more than generously. It affords him luxuries like the latest new apartment with more square footage than he knows what to do with and the city view from his living room window. It affords him as many trips out to Massachusetts to visit Robin and Nancy as he’d like, stunning suits and flashy watches he never could have dreamed of affording when he worked at Family video and refused his family fortune. And then there’s the extravagant gifts for said family that make up for his absence at Christmas dinner.

This job is draining, but it’s purchased his peace, in a way, so he does what he has to do to make it worth it.

Lately, what he has to do to make it worth it is party until he forgets how much he hates it.

If he had to recall the names of everyone in his apartment at this moment, he would fail. There’s faces he recognizes, sure, people from work and their friends he’s seen at many other parties. Clark from down the hall, who always manages to have the best coke, is in the corner making friends, and Eddie is around here somewhere peddling his own stash…but between the thumping bass and raucous laughter and the blur of lights, there’s about 25 to 30 other people he doesn’t recognize. When a bottle is thrust into his periphery, he gladly takes a swig, drowning the worry of strangers in his apartment and the stress from the day at work with amber liquor.

Clark beckons him over to the mirrored coffee table where he’s set up shop, offering a rolled twenty with one hand and clapping Steve’s shoulder in a shallow gesture of friendship.

Fuck it, it’s Friday.

November, 1996 – You

Dropping one last box at the foot of the doorman’s desk, you sigh and brush cardboard dust from your hands. The two men from the moving company just went upstairs with the last of your large furniture and are set to take off when they return to ground level, having only been paid through 11 AM. So you managed to unload the back of your car and the rest of the boxes from the moving truck into the lobby, promising the doorman – whose name you swear you’ll memorize soon – that it will all be out of the way momentarily. He graciously offered to make sure nobody messed with it in the meantime.

It’s hard to even wrap your head around the fact that you’re moving into an apartment with a doorman in the heart of the city at all, let alone one within walking distance of your diner waitress job, and close enough to a bus route to the club where you danced. You’ll have to remember to pay your grandma a visit in her new nursing home and thank her for keeping her rent-controlled lease and illegally subletting it to you. Just another thing to add to your overflowing calendar.

When you make it up to your shiny new apartment on the ninth floor, you say your goodbyes to the movers who are on their way out, sign the appropriate paperwork for them, and drop off your armload of boxes before heading back down.

It takes quite a few trips on your own, but after another half hour, you exit the elevator in the lobby to see only three boxes remain and heave another sigh of relief. The end is in sight, and by the grace of whichever God is looking out for you, you might even be able to sneak in a nap before work tonight. You bend over to pick up one of the last few boxes of your belongings and suddenly feel the all too familiar prickling heat of someone’s intense stare. Rolling your shoulders, you let go of the cardboard handles and stand to turn and face whoever is continuing to stare.

Behind you, leaning one hip against the front desk, is exactly the kind of man you would expect to live in a building like this. Slightly older than you, but not by much, tall and lean, but the sleeves of his tight white tee shirt show off the perfect sculpt of his bicep. The man is etched in sleep, draped in it like the blankets he surely just crawled out of, the fluffy length of his hair sticking out in every direction, pushed up and out of his face by round wire-framed glasses. He smiles in a way that feels friendly, but has the sly kind of charm behind it that makes you want to shy from it.

“You know,” he says, grinning wide, “I know I had a hard time waking up today, but something tells me I might still be dreaming, pretty thing like you moving into my building.”

You want to scoff at his comment, knowing exactly how you must look right now. Sweat drying on your skin, messy bun practically falling out of its hold, sporting a plain black tank top and a pair of your ex’s old basketball shorts rolled at the waist. You manage to hold back the scoff, but do roll your eyes with a soft smile at your new neighbor. “Cute, you use that line often?”

His sharp jaw ticks, but his smile softens around a friendly laugh as he rubs tiredly at one eye. “Can’t say I do,” then, dropping the hand in favor of offering it to you to shake, “I’m Steve, need a hand with these?”

Accepting his secondary offer and shaking his hand, you smile in return and introduce yourself, but decline the first. “Thank you, but I’m sure you were headed somewhere. Don’t let me keep you from your plans.”

“Nonsense.” When he shakes his head, there’s a pinch to his forehead, eyes slamming shut at the motion, but he recovers quickly and hides the pain. This man is clearly fighting a monster hangover, and yet he insists. “I was just going to pick up some coffee. It can wait.” Without waiting for you to agree, he takes the smallest box and stacks it atop another, picking them both up and tacking on, “lead the way.”

You decide there’s no arguing with him, so you grab the last remaining box and head back to the elevator, punching the 9 button once inside.

“No way,” he says in disbelief, “ninth floor?”

“Mhm,” you mumble softly, “9C.”

Your eyes are drawn to the crinkle around his eyes when he laughs again despite the dark circles below, the two moles just below his cheekbone that dance when he smiles. Damn it, he really is pretty.

“I’m in 9B, right next door! You’re moving into Ms. Ruth’s old place?”

There’s practically a lightbulb above your head when you make the connection, and in comical time with it, the elevator dings, signaling your arrival. “Oh, so you’re the Steve Grandma warned me about!”

All color drains from his face. “W-what did she say?”

Steve follows you down the hall to your front door, and you can’t help but giggle at his change in demeanor. Both of you set the boxes down just inside your front room and you turn to him with a hand on your hip. “Just that you’re too handsome for your own good and a habitual flirt. Both of which I’m finding to be true already.”

“Oh, well,” not only does his color return, but his cheeks pink noticeably. He gives a small nod that tips his glasses onto the bridge of his nose and sends a tuft of hair curling into his face – he couldn’t have choreographed it better if he tried. With an exaggerated wink, he continues, “you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

You scoff, “sure, sure,” and lightly push his shoulder out toward the hallway. “Thanks for your help.”

He strides down the hall back to the elevator and points at his own front door as he passes it. “Anytime…and you know where to find me if you need anything. You know, cup of sugar, little company. Whatever.”

With a shake of your head and the elevator doors closing around him, you punctuate, “bye, Steve.”

—

Later the same night, in the dressing room before your shift, you’re practically glowing from the long afternoon nap you allowed yourself in place of unpacking. You did your makeup at home – never really did care to leave your expensive products in the locker room, no matter how much you trust the other girls – so all you have left to do is get changed. There’s a lounge just outside the locker rooms for the dancers and bar staff. It isn’t much, a cracked and peeling old leather couch, a few folding chairs around a card table, and a kitchenette for snacks and drinks, but it serves its purpose. After changing into your first outfit of the night, a bedazzled fishnet body suit over a metallic hot pink matching set, you practically bounce into the lounge and land gracefully on one end of the couch, heels in hand.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” comes a sleepy voice from the kitchenette where Eddie Munson, club security, resident dealer, and occasional fill-in DJ, makes his routine evening coffee.

“Didn’t you hear?” One of the other dancers, Charity – though you’re not sure her real name, stage names only even back here, that’s the rule – asks, draping herself onto the other end of the couch. She pokes at your thigh with the toe of her heel and scrunches her button nose in your direction. “Honey here is fancy now, moved into that luxurious new apartment of hers today.”

“It’s true,” you boast with a dramatic lean into the couch, lazing, a cat to sunbathe under the fluorescent lights and clutching at pretend pearls, “I am one with the fat cats, now.”

“The fat cats living off their granny’s handouts, maybe,” Says Felicity, the club manager, through a playful snort as she enters the room.

You concede, “yeah fine, I could never afford this place if it wasn’t for her subletting it to me, but it’s all a part of my master plan.”

Eddie settles into one of the folding chairs, propping his feet up on the armrest of the couch beside you. “Master plan? Do go on.”

“You know,” you swat at the heavy, thick-soled boots before leaning forward to don your shoes and look up at him over your shoulder flirtatiously, “find a rich, hot man who can afford to live in the building and make him fall in love with me.”

“Solid plan, how’s that working out for you so far?” Charity laughs playfully.

It’s quiet for a moment as you contemplate the question. You were joking, of course, but when she asked the first thought that came to mind was of your interaction with Steve. It could be nothing, after all Grandma Ruth did warn you that her next door neighbor is a major flirt and for all you know that’s how he interacts with every woman he meets – maybe even every man, you don’t judge. On the other hand, it could be something. You never know.

“Well, actually there was this guy–”

You’re interrupted by one of the bartenders leaning in the doorway. “Eddie, we’re about to open, need you at the door!”

On his way out the door, Eddie twists his mess of curls up into a bunch atop his head and as a goodbye, says, “fill me in later, ladies, duty calls.”

—

The next time you see Steve, it’s under wildly different circumstances. For him, anyway.

You’re still sweaty and worn out after a long morning shift at the diner and the walk home under blazing July sun. Your fifties-style uniform wrinkled and stained with sticky syrup and dried milkshake from the bratty kid who “accidentally” dumped it on you in passing. Your apron is slung over your arm carelessly and you have just let your hair loose from its scrunchie when you entered the building so you have no idea how wild it actually looks.

Steve, however, is nothing short of stunning when you run into him at the mailboxes. He’s sporting a navy blue suit that fits him so well it must be tailored, still slightly disheveled at the end of his workday but clean cut and endlessly handsome despite it. There’s a dusting of five o’clock shadow along his sharp jaw, and his glasses are perched low on the tip of his nose as he sorts through the small stack of bills before tucking them into the inside pocket of his blazer. When he looks up and meets your eye, he visibly brightens.

“Well hi, neighbor,“ he greets with a warm grin dimpling his cheeks. He leans with one arm above your head against the wall of mailboxes and looks softly down his nose at you. “How’re you settling in?”

Shifting the strap of your bag up higher onto your shoulder, you try to cover up the stains, once again shying under his attention. You’re more than used to attention from men, used to their intense stares and acute observation, but only when you have prepared for it. When your makeup is done to perfection and you’re fresh and clean as a whistle. Not now. Not smelling of fryer grease and pancakes and the sweat of a hard day’s work, with melted makeup and dried mascara flakes accentuating the bags under your eyes. You finally answer, “alright I guess. I’ve been working a lot lately so there hasn’t been much time for settling, but I’ll get there eventually.”

He scrutinizes your outfit with a playful sneer. “I can imagine how hard it is, having to commute back to the fifties every time you have a shift.” He reaches out to untuck the collar of your dress that folded itself inward on your walk, smoothing it down with a caress of the thumb. “This suits you, by the way. ‘S cute.”

“Shut up,” you laugh, swatting his arm away with the apron in hand. “It pays the bills and I’m good at it. I wouldn’t have chosen it, otherwise.”

Without ceremony, you both start walking to the elevator, step in step as if this was routine, as if you’ve been doing together for years. He presses the elevator button and shakes his head as you wait for the doors to open. “Does it, though?”

Swallowing your offense, you give him a puzzled look. “What do you mean?”

Together you step into the elevators, and Steve holds out an arm to make sure the doors don’t close on you as you pass through. An unnecessary gesture, as the doors don’t close if they detect motion, but it’s appreciated nonetheless.

“Not that I’m judging, because I am not, I just find it a little hard to believe that you can afford this place as just a waitress. What else have you got up your sleeve?”

The elevator once again signals your arrival with an overhead ding, and you just shrug as you brush past him toward your door. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

—

Working two jobs to keep up with your discounted rent is tough. You’ve never been ashamed of either job, both of them honest work and both of them something you’re good at and damn proud of, but there’s no denying that it’s tough sometimes.

The late hours at the club, though not every day, followed by an early wakeup call for the breakfast shift at the diner often called for little to no sleep, trudging into the building well past three AM with only enough time to shower and fall into bed for two hours before the alarm went off again at 5:30. But you made it work. Naps in the middle of the day and strategically planning which days you went into the club, you always made it work. Which means on the off nights you choose not to go into the club, you value your time and the opportunity to go to bed before midnight.

It’s a rare Saturday night that you choose to stay home a few weeks after your move. Usually Fridays and Saturdays are your biggest tip nights so it’s rare that you skip, but it had been a particularly rough day at the diner and you have to go in even earlier than usual tomorrow to cover the overnight server’s vacation, so you decide it isn’t worth the added stress. You’ll just take a nice relaxing bath, maybe watch a movie on cable, and get to bed early.

Only, ever since Steve got home, there’s been a constant flow of people outside your front door, trailing from the elevator to Steve’s, some knocking, some letting themselves right in with a slam of the front door, most of them shouting. Their voices echoed off the walls and floated through the crack under your door. You wrote it off as a simple get-together and hoped it would die down soon, but to no such luck. The swell of voices and bass heavy music and generic party ambiance only grew louder as the night went on, and here you are.

It’s two AM, your alarm is supposed to go off in just over an hour, and you’re wide awake, no, kept awake by the thumping of the party music on the other side of your shared wall and the boisterous laughter of Steve’s guests.

You try not to be annoyed, really. Sure, it’s well past midnight, but it’s also Saturday, and you’re no square. Obviously people can have a good time and enjoy their weekend, but God, it’s so hard to not let the noise get to you, your anger bubbling just under your skin the longer the ruckus keeps you awake.

Angrily shoving a pillow over your face, clamping it around your ears, you make note to say something to Steve the next time you see him.

#steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington/you #stranger things reader insert #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington reader insert

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futurefamousdeadmusician · 4 months

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Escape to the Eden Club - Sister! reader x Shelby Brothers

Summary; Emily Shelby wants to spend the night away from the confines of Small Heath and decides to head out to the famed Eden Club of London. All was well until a certain trio arrived and reigned havoc.

Author's Note; I took some liberties with the plot/ location of the Eden Club itself. That being said, this is still meant to be aligned closely with the fight scene from season 2. As always, let me know what you think.

Eager to escape into the cool evening air, Emily wrapped her shawl loosely around her shoulders and took stock of her purse. A small roll of bills, lipstick, a dainty opal hairbrush, and a shining Colt Pocket Hammerless Arthur had given her some time ago. With one last glance to the mirror, she smoothed out her dress and went for her bedroom door, shutting it softly behind her. Seeing as Polly would still be at the church for sometime, she decided it would be best to inform her brother on her intentions. Emily approached Thomas’ office and peered in to see the stout man sitting behind his modest desk. She rapped lightly on the door frame and was beckoned inside by just a flick of her brother’s eyes instead of a word. After only taking one step into the room she spoke in the most clear, confident tone she could muster.

“I’m going out with Ada this evening. I’ll be back by midnight.” Hoping the conversation would end there she turned to leave only to be stopped by her brothers words. Still not looking up from the papers spread across the wood before him he cleared his throat and said,

“Going out with Ada, eh? Why is this the first I’m hearing about this?” Emily rolled her eyes, hoping her brother didn’t see, and replied,

“Because I didn’t think there would be any issue.” Emily didn’t like lying, a quality instilled in her by her Aunt Polly since her youth. Though, as a Shelby, it came naturally. Exhausting Emily further, Thomas continued in his questioning.

“Where about are you two going?” Calmer this time, as to not arouse suspicion, the girl replied,

“Just to dinner, in Digbeth.”

“The name of the establishment?” With more attitude, she replied,

“The Carriage.” The man sat for a moment, only sparing her one more glance as he searched her face for deceit. He apparently found none.

“Be back by 11.” Emily offered a small smile and made her way out of the home on Watery Lane, calling over her shoulder,

“I’ll see you at 11:30, Tom.”

The night was still young and the chance for her to walk the streets of Birmingham alone and untethered was an excitement of a life time. She wouldn’t just be walking the streets of her hometown tonight, though. After meeting her friend Scarlett by the cut they hailed a cab and set out for London.

The passage was just under 2 hours before they arrived to the Eden Club just outside of the city. After tipping the cabman and exiting out into the brisk night they set for the front doors of the avant-garde establishment. Scarlet giggled with excitement as they approached the doorman who knew better than to question two striking young women trying to enter the club. The main hall filled was filled with the smell of smoke and sex and the band played on to ring in the young night. It wasn’t often that Emily got to leave the holdings of Small Health, let alone the claws of her brothers. After Ada’s departure, Thomas was more worried than ever about loosing his youngest sister. This fear often manifested into the overarching control of Emily’s every move. He felt it was both an act of love and an act of necessity. Emily knew she was deeply loved by her brother and cared for him in the same way. Yet, at the end of the day, if Tom could have his thumb on the pulse of every member of the family, only then could he ensure their safety, or so he believed.

“Isn’t this amazing!” Scarlett squealed in Emily’s ear. Scarlett was one of the few friends that Thomas approved of. She came from a respectable, working-class family who raised horses and often did work with the Shelby family.

“I know.” Emily said back, raising her voice to soar over the loud music. The pair approached the bar and beckoned the attendant for a drink. Soon after, two men approached the women introducing themselves as Paul, a tall man with short black hair in a pressed grey suit, and David, a slightly stout man with dusty blonde hair and rosy cheeks who’s slim black suit made him look taller than he was. Paul explained that Emily had caught his eye from the moment she had walked in and it would be a crime to let a woman like herself buy her own drinks. It was only out of the confines of Birmingham that handsome men would approach her, unafraid of people she was related to. She could speak freely and finally feel a sense of control she was never afforded at home.

“Would you care to dance?” Paul asked the young woman and carefully took her hand in his. They left their drinks at the table where David and Scarlett sat completely enthralled with one another. He led her to the dance floor just as a new song started over at the bands stage. Spinning around the floor Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the happiness she felt in Paul’s arms. He leaned in close to her face and breathed,

“You are absolutely stunning.” His breath smelled of bourbon and lust. This was Emily’s dream; to be young and free. Finally she was living it.

She only noticed the violent outburst taking place across the large room once she heard the crashing noise of a wooden table full of glassware hit the ground. The band cut to a halt and gasps filled the audience. Out of instinct, Paul shoved Emily behind him as he assessed the situation. When it became clear that the men dressed in black meant to do harm he ushered his date back to their table to collect their friends and make a run for the door. Through the crowd, Emily peered over the bobbing heads of patrons ducking and running at the chaos she noticed a familiar jacket fly up as one of the unknown assailants struck another man across the face. As he turned to face another man she saw the face of her brother adorned with a busted lip and small drops of another mans blood.

“Fuck.” She whispered and made a run for her table. Scarlett and her companion had already gathered their things and stood to meet the other couple. The four of them hid behind the large sofa they had once sat on while they waited for a path to clear to the main exit of the building. Emily grabbed her friend by the arm and swung the girl around to meet her scared face. The two men were conversing anxiously at the best plan of escape while the women spoke in hushed words.

“It my fucking brother!”

“What?” Scarlett gasped “Are you sure?” The two women peered over the couch to see the men still going at it near the center of the room. This time, Arthur’s face came into view through the madness.

“Fuck it’s the lot of them. We need to go. Now!” Emily shoved the other girl forward and the men followed suit. A gunshot rang out through the building and they all dropped to the floor covering their heads. Paul grabbed Emily’s shoulders hovered his body over hers to protect her. When the men quit fighting and stood to see where the shot had come from all became quiet. The four took this opportunity to head straight for the exit. Emily only heard the indistinct echo of Tommy’s voice before clearing the doorway.

Pouring into the street patrons ran every conceivable direction to vacate the path of anymore possible bullets. After reaching the end of the block Paul spoke, out of breath.

“Is everyone ok?” Each took their turn affirming that they were not hurt, just a bit shaken. Emily turned to her friend communicating with just their eyes that they all needed to get leave before her brothers had a chance to exit the building. “Alright, I need to get you home.” Paul said and took Emily’s shoulder and David followed suit with Scarlett.

“No!” Emily said too forcefully, “I - We will get home, I promise. You need to get on your way,” she explained gently. Truthfully, she wanted nothing more than to go anywhere with Paul, that handsome, caring gentleman. He stood firm on his words and said again,

“Emily, really, I need to make sure you get home. I don’t know who the fuck those bastards were.” Scarlett let out a worried laugh at the irony of the situation and still couldn’t take her eyes off the doorway expecting any moment that the men would emerge and see them. Emily took her arm from him though it pained her to do so.

“Please, Paul, really. You need to get going.” She said urgently. He took a step back and dropped his eyes to the ground, looking hurt. Defeated, he touched David on the shoulder, prompting him to let go of Scarlett’s arm.

“It was lovely meeting you,” was all he spoke before turning and walking off into the dark alley way. Emily rifled around in her purse and pulled out some small bills shoving them into Scarlett’s hand.

“Go. Now!” She said before beginning to turn away.

“What? I’m not leaving you!” Her friend yelled back, grabbing onto her wrist, stopping her movement.

“Scarlett, go! Please. Before they come out.” She pleaded. Even her friend knew that there would be hell to pay if her family found out that she had been running around, getting into trouble with the Shelby girl. With eyes darting between the front door of the Eden Club and Emily’s worried expression Scarlett forced herself to embrace her friend.

“Please be safe.” Emily nodded in response and they both took off into opposite directions. After quickly crossing in front of the building, the younger Shelby tried her best to hail a cab as many former club goers tried to do the same. Every few seconds she found herself looking over her shoulder praying that she wouldn’t turn to find her brother’s red face looking back at her. After a few failed attempts she saw a empty taxi just across the way parked right next to the entrance of the club. If she hurried, she might just be able to make it before her brothers emerged. With a quick decision she bolted as fast as her heels would carry her across the street and made it just steps the the cab door before she felt the shoulder of a much larger man connect with her own. As she was shoved back onto the hood of the cab she couldn’t help but shout,

“watch where yer’ fucking goin!” Just as any other Shelby would. She watched in anger as that very man climbed into the cab himself and the car began to drive away forcing her to move back onto the side walk. Collecting herself and still cursing the man under her breath she only made it a few steps from her place in front of the club before she heard her name called from behind her.

It was John. The word pierced her soul like a knife. Without thinking, she swung around to see him standing only about 10 feet behind her as Thomas and Arthur filed out of the door. Without a second to reconsider, she ran. Though slowed down by her shoes and the lingering effects of alcohol, she carried herself briskly down the street.

“Emily Lenora Shelby!” She heard Arthur roar from behind her. Continuing down the sidewalk shoving between the still clearing crowd she did not stop. Just before she reached the nearest intersection a strong hand gripped her shoulder and spun her around causing her to stumble. She was caught by her oldest brother’s hands of either shoulder lightly shaking her to emphasize each word as they came from his red, blood splattered face.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Are you bloody mental?” She squinted to shield herself from the yelling as she put her hands to his chest to push him away. He wasn’t planning on letting her go lest she run again until he felt the hand of Tom guide him away from the younger girl. She almost preferred the outright rage of Arthur over the chilling coldness of Thomas, at least with the former, his true intentions were always clear. John soon arrived behind the men and took to consoling Arthur while Thomas pushed the girl to side of the road. Unwilling, she attempted to hold her ground against the man though a stronger grip on her upper arm and a stern look from his piercing eyes encouraged her to comply. She kept her head low has he was still catching his breath from the conflict and subsequent jog to catch his fleeing sister. Finally, in a low, gruff voice, he spoke.

“In the club, ye?” She nodded her head but still wouldn’t meet the man’s eyes. Instead, she peered past him to see John and Arthur leaned in close to one another talking. Arthur waving his hands around like a lunatic while John tries to calm him down. Out of all her brothers, her and John butted heads the most. Maybe it was the age difference, sitting at just enough years to give them not much in common but enough to argue about. Though, when it was all said and done, she knew John would have her back just as much, if not more, than anyone else. She met his eyes in a quick glance before turning back to Tom’s shoes. Now, the more pragmatic Shelby took in a deep breath to gather his thoughts before continuing the conversation with his sister.

“Why? Eh?” He said quieter this time. She couldn’t tell if his low voice was an attempt to deescalate the situation or to intimidate her into telling the truth. Well, the truth as it may be, wasn’t that interesting. Emily shrugged and only spared him a small glance up. She went to the Eden club that evening for the same reason as any other girl of her year would; to have fun.

“You have no business being at those clubs. Getting yourself fucking killed, right?” He said lowering himself to her level, even closer to her face. Her jaw tensed as she thought of a thousand words she could say back to him.

“Everything was fine until you bastards shot up the place.”

“Weren’t you just at the same club, Tom?”

“It’s none of your business what I do.”

Using her better judgment though, she held her tongue. The irony of the situation was not lost on Tommy. He knew that the standard he held for his sister was much different than he held for the men of the family, though he held it steadfast. At the end of the day, he knew Emily was a good girl. Smart, calculated, quick, and usually honest. When the silence hung in the air for too long, he took a gentle hand and guided her face to meet his eyes.

“Don’t scare me like that again.” He said pointedly with his finger pointed at her face. Emily pursed her lips and gave a curt nod before he pulled her in for a quick but firm hug and placed one kiss on the top of her head. Trying to break away from the clutches are her brother once more she took a step away from Thomas and said,

“I’ll see you at home,” before attempting to leave in the opposite direction. He let out a sigh once again and wrapped a strong, possessive hand around her arm once more. His lips parted and he eyebrow went up in astonishment, almost as if he was testing her to defy him once again. She looked in his eyes a moment longer, unwavering, before following him back to the other men. Thomas cleared his throat and released the grasp on the girl before speaking,

“Let’s just go home, shall we.” The four walked in uncomfortable silence back to the car, just over a block away from the fateful scene. As they walked, her oldest brother moved closer to her eventually putting a hand on her upper back and bending down to her level.

“You knows I just want to protect you, right, love?” He offered in a nicer tone than before. Emily knew and nodded a reply.

“I know.”

“It’s just you can’t go running around like that.” Before he could get another sentence out, Thomas called out from the front of the group.

“She knows, brother.” They eventually made it to the Bentley and it was John that opened the door for his sister to enter the back seat. As she took the less-than-sober step up into the vehicle her brother gently pushed her, just to see how unstable she was.

“Acting like a fuckin’ harlot,” John laughed quietly to chastise the younger girl. Quickly, Emily turned to face him hunched over in the car and raised her purse as if she was going to hit him.

“Oi, you fuckin’ bastard!” She seethed. Before the two could go at it Thomas darted a look at them in the rear view mirror and raised his voice in a menacing shout.

“Enough!” Was all it took for the pair to quiet down and sit silently for the rest of the ride home.

#cillian murphy fanfiction #tommy Shelby fanfition #Shelby family #peaky blinder fanfiction #Shelby sister fanfiction #tommy shelby x sister!reader #writing #Shelby family fanfiction #thomas shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #futurefamousdeadmusician #fanfiction

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haitani-maki · 2 months

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𝙼𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝙿𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛 𝙶𝚕𝚘𝚛𝚢

MDNI +18 Shio Yotsurugi x Fem!reader

English is not my first language

TW: Stripper, overstimulation, pet names, orgasm, creampie, breeding kink, sugar daddy(hidden feelings), missionary, standing position, rough sex, reader 20+ Shio 30+.

Stripping wasn't your first choice to pay the bills, but it paid. It was also a quick way to get out of your parents' house, who made it very clear that they weren't going to help you financially after you graduated. With that began his journey jumping from strip club to strip club. The most recent one was a club that brought in CEOs, politicians, high rollers, in general, the filthy rich.

You were in the dressing room adjusting your makeup, perfecting the sensual look that would make any man do whatever you wanted. You were a tease on stage, drawing them in, leading to the private dances that made you a lot of money. There was only one strict rule in the club, no fucking the clients in the club. Which wasn't a problem for you, making a lot of money just from dancing.

Taking one last look in the mirror, the house mom calls you to come on stage. The two pieces left almost nothing to the imagination, delicate straps on her thighs and glitter all over her body. Your stage name is announced, men and more men screaming at the hearing your name, you were their new favorite sexy little thing.

Your body hit every beat of the music playing, in front of the stage the exclusive seats were already occupied. A man with a well-fitting white suit, short blonde hair with black streaks. He was new here.

You maintained eye contact, his eyes traveling all over your body while you were dancing. Hips swaying, a seductive smile, you glowed as you spun on the metal pole. He talks to the bid counter, his eyes never leaving you. No matter what price it was, he wanted you.

As you left the stage you were called by the house mom 'Yotsurugi Shio bought a dance from you, he's a well-known punter.' - She approaches - 'Apparently one of the CEOs recommended you, we're lucky he's here today, he's a bit picky. You've got him all night in private room five.' - She says as she adjusts your clothes and then sends you to the private room where he was.

Going up to the private room, neon lights illuminated the way, some dancers entering and others leaving. You finally arrive in room five.

Opening the door, you could see Shio sitting in the middle of the couch. A tall, stout man with a serious look on his face as he brought the glass of whiskey to his lips. The purple lights in the room enhancing his features, you had to admit that he was one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He turned his attention to you when you entered the room, leaving the glass on the table and gesturing for you to come closer

'Come here pretty girl, let me take a good look at you.' - His voice was deep, golden eyes stared at you from top to bottom. For the first time you were nervous.

Walking towards him, Shio gives two pats on his lap, wanting you to sit on it

'You're a pretty little thing.' His words were warm in your ear, causing shivers. Shio's big hands running along your curves.

'I'm glad you think that way.' - You pressed your hands lightly to his chest

Shio's hands sliding down your thighs and finding the rightful place in your ass

'Just relax Mr. Yotsurugi, I will take good care of you.'

Your hips started swaying to the beat of the new soft music playing, the feeling of his hands lightly gripping your ass as you rubbed against his semi-hardened protuberance.

You change position while your back presses against his chest. Feeling his lips brush against your neck, the smell of the whiskey he was drinking still lingers on his breath.

'Tell me how a pretty girl like you ended up in a place like this?' - One hand running down your body, while the other hand squeezed your inner thigh.

'For the same reason as many. But I like what I do.'

'What a shame. A pretty little thing like you doing it for money, what would happen if you had sex with a client right now? I can afford it, you know.' - Shio holds your waist, pressing you down a bit, making you feel his volume now hard. Even dressed, you could feel it was big.

'I lose my job. The amount of money I earn here is too good.' - Shio lets out a low chuckle

'But there's a loophole, isn't there?' - He brings a hand to your breast, groping it

'Mr. Yotsurugi, I do not have sex with clients.'

'It's a shame, the reason I've come today is because I've heard very good things about you. And I wasn't disappointed with what I saw.' - He continues - 'It would be a shame if I let a precious thing like you slip away.'

Shio tightens your thigh a little stronger - 'I can make you experience what it's like to be taken care of by a real man and never have to worry about money.' - He whispers in your ear

You slightly turn your face to look at him, able to see what he was thinking.

Of course, several men had already made offers to you, but none of them came from a man like Shio.

'It seems I got your attention. Just listen to my requests and you can have whatever you want.' - He says with his lips close to yours.

And now, here you are on Shio's penthouse. Months after quitting your job at the strip club and accepting Shio's requests. Expensive dinners, luxurious gifts and as much money as you want. Shio was fulfilling what he promised while he only wanted one thing from you. The only thing you both didn't expect was for feelings to start blooming.

Your breasts pressed against the cold wall, Shio sliding his thick cock inside you with deep thrusts, you felt completely filled.

His moans were muffled by the skin of your neck as he mistreated the area. The collision of your bodies causing jolts, propelling it upwards and pressing it even harder against the wall. Yours moans joined with the noise of their intimacies, you felt your apex approaching.

In a quick move, Shio withdrew from inside you and turned you to him. Sliding his hands up your thighs, he effortlessly lifted you and pressed your back against the now warm wall, penetrating you swiftly. Shio sealed his lips in a heated kiss, hitting that sensitive spot inside you with a single motion, making you moan against his mouth.

You separate due to lack of air. Your nails dug into Shio's defined back, you scream with intense orgasm.

Shio continues with precise movements inside you, prolonging your pleasure while their once intense golden eyes now look at you with love.

He guides you to the bed, laying you down on it, you can see his member completely soaked.

Shio penetrated you again, the privileged view of his abdomen moving and contracting, leaving you even more excited. You ran your nails over his tattooed arms, heading towards his abdomen to feel him

A hand of Shio's, which was resting on the bed, went towards your neck. Squeezing the spot tightly, you contract your intimacy with such an act.

'Fuck, so tight.'

He pulls away, holding each of her thighs, watching his thick cock disappear into your pussy. You roll your eyes as you feel him go deeper, kissing your cervix

Seeing the small bulge with each thrust in the lower part of the pelvis.

One of your hands began to move down your body until it reached your pussy. Your index and middle fingers began rubbing your clitoris in circular motions, causing your body to feel the familiar knot once again.

Shio became wild with this sight.

The force behind each thrust was pushing you to the limit

'Mmhm S-Shio, just like that.' - Your back arched and a white ring formed at the base of his cock

Shio leaned forward, kissing you again, your arms wrapping around his neck. His thrusts never stopping, drawing loud moans from you.

The Shio balls slapping against your swollen lips, you could feel your third orgasm approaching with each deep thrust he gave

'I'm going to give you every drop, I will make you mine.' - His thrusts became more confused - 'Only mine.'

You could barely pronounce anything beyond his name. Your third orgasm hitting you, with Shio instantly following you, letting out a slurred moan as he thrust a few more times filling your pussy.

Maybe becoming Mrs. Yotsurugi wouldn't be so bad.

©Reblogs are welcome, do not copy or translate

#☾ ⋆⁺₊Makiᡣ𐭩 #shio yotsurugi #yotsurugi shio #shio yotsurugi x reader #shio x reader #shio yotsurugi x you #negai no astro #astro royale #shio x you

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cuddles-edits · 9 months

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Canon Bisexual Characters

Happy Bisexual Day of Visibility. Here's another icon set of canonically bisexual characters.

Luz Noceda from The Owl House; featured her before, but given the show ended this year, it only seems appropriate to include her one last time.

V (Valerie) from Cyberpunk 2077; she is compatible with both a male and a female doll at Clouds, and has both male and female romance options.

Hunter from The Owl House; revealed by Dana Terrace after the show ended to be bisexual.

Johnny Silverhand from Cyberpunk 2077; during an optional conversation at the Dicky Twister, a male strip club, Johnny reminisces about getting a lap dance from a "latino hunk", and when questioned about it by V, notes that he swings both ways. Additionally, his only objection to V sleeping with River is that she's "making him fuck a cop", and when asked what he would do differently in the Blistering Love side job, he can respond that he would "do Kerry".

Meredith Stout from Cyberpunk 2077; if V sides with her during The Pickup story mission, then they can join her later in the game for a one night stand, regardless of gender.

Kerry Eurodyne from Cyberpunk 2077; although he can only be romanced by Male V, women's clothing can be found strewn around his house and an email exchange confirms he has an ex-wife. Additionally, he's explicitly bisexual in the lore of the original tabletop game.

Astolfo (Rider of Black) from Fate/Apocrypha; doesn't care if his lover's gender is male or female. Last year, I mistakenly identified him as Ambiguously Bisexual, as seen here. I'm including him in the Canon set this year to rectify that mistake.

V (Vincent) from Cyberpunk 2077; same reasons as his female counterpart.

Jean-Baptiste Augustin from Overwatch; Baptiste was revealed to be bisexual in this year's Overwatch 2 pride event.

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smashpages · 6 months

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Roderick and the City of Morhil is a five-issue fantasy series about a young postman who’s about to make his first delivery when the package gets stolen. Created by Eduardo Medeiros, written and illustrated by Eduardo Medeiros, colors by Bruno Freire, letters by Deyvison Manes and covers by Eduardo Medeiros and Rafael Albuquerque.

Coming from Stout Club and Comixology in 2024. Read more

#comixology #stout club #digital comics #eduardo medeiros #bruno freire #deyvison manes #rafael albuquerque #comics #roderick and the city of morhil

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graphicpolicy · 2 months

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Preview: Mistland #1

Mistland #1 preview. In the underground kingdom known as The Hollow peace between the three clans is threatened when a murder occurs #comics #comicbooks

View On WordPress

#comixology originals #digital comics #felipe castilho #felipe watanabe #mistland #stout club

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wisteria-blooms · 9 months

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sunburns & dragons (charlie weasley & reader) (1/?) pilot

CHAPTER DIRECTORY

A/N: Pilot chapter of the Charlie Weasley version of 'long hair & tattoos.' Hastily edited before work so I'll fix things up as I go. I hope you'll like it!

CHAPTER 1: When Lucius threatens to bring Goyle over with the intent of courtship, you fight back. Malfoys never lose, right? 1.9k words

CHAPTER 1: 23, STILL CRAZY

Before you knew it, September had fallen over the Malfoy Manor.

Now, what did a September dinner look like at the Malfoy Manor?

It looked like a long dining table engulfed by the even larger room it presided in. It looked like a warm and gorgeous chandelier, embedded with thousands of crystals, that hung overtop the middle of the table. It looked like the rattling of leaves, threatening to redden and the brown, outside in the rolling gardens. It looked like the velvet sun seeping into the windows, casting frightening shadows on the patriarch’s face.

With every second that ticked by, you felt the last of summer slip through your hands. In a few weeks, it would get darker earlier and earlier until you were dining with your family in darkness.

“Genevieve’s wedding really was beautiful,” your mother, Narcissa, remarked for the third time today. And the tenth time this week. But who was counting?

You nodded blithely. Of course, it was beautiful. Anything Malfoy money touched, despite how little thought or meaning was put it in, was stained beautiful. Truly, it was something, watching your eldest cousin, Genevieve, marry on the cliffs overlooking the French Riviera. She wore the most gorgeous dress, and her hair was done to perfection, not a strand out of place.

You were happy for her but you had to wonder: wasn’t your own happiness what mattered the most? When Genevieve was holding Maximillian’s hand, saying vows that were too pure and sweet to come out of her mouth, you were sat alone watching. Your eyes would drift everywhere. First, at Draco, beside you, who had brought Astoria. You watched your two littlest cousins, Charlotte and Clara, holding each other and tearing up at Genevieve’s vows. Then, to your cousin, Claude. Claude was Genevieve’s older brother and was clasping his girlfriend’s hand that was perched on his lap. She was probably a soon-to-be-fiancée after this event. Genevieve’s picturesque romance sparked a fever in everyone, including yourself.

And you trudged on alone the rest of the night, nursing your champagne, embraced by only the sweet sea air.

Everything was perfect from start to end. They had perfect weather (cloudless blue skies and sunshine), the perfect people in attendance, the perfect vows, and the perfect dinner, the perfect wine, and—

As much as you hated to admit it, it was bitter to be alone.

Really freaking bitter.

“You should consider a location for your own wedding, (Y/N),” Narcissa, always the optimist, continued. “These venues book up quite fast. Susan’s daughter has been on the waitlist for her choice venue for a year now.”

“The booking isn’t the hard part,” Draco, your little brother by two years, added. “The hardest part is (Y/N) finding a man that can actually tolerate her.”

“That’s true,” you said in agreement, much to Draco’s chagrin. “I don’t think any man is suitable for my standards.”

“Maybe the men aren’t the problem,” Lucius, your father, said through gritted teeth. You had probably evoked some bad memories of you abandoning the gentlemen he’d tried introducing you to at the country club.

“That’s just it, they are the problem,” you shot back. “Money or status doesn’t better a person make.”

“You won’t be holding onto that belief when you inevitably end up alone,” Lucius stated.

“Father, I may have a solution to (Y/N)’s predicament,” Draco piped up. A devious smile spread across his face. “Dear sister, you remember my friend, Goyle, don’t you?”

All that came to mind when you heard Gregory “Goyle” was a sweaty and stout boy with a forehead bigger than the rest of his face. The size of his noggin clearly housed nothing because the thoughts that came out his mouth were puzzling. And any chance of Goyle nurturing his intelligence or academic pursuits was shot down whenever a pretty girl walked by. At least he had quidditch to fall back on. He was definitely a decent beater by strength, rivalling your best friends, Fred and George Weasley. They often complained to you about his dirty tricks on the field.

“I wish I didn’t,” you lamented.

Lucius raised an eyebrow. “His father and I are acquaintances,” he mused. “He would be a decent choice of a partner.”

Goyle? That was the best your family could come up with for you? How low could they go now?

But still, you looked at your father in bewilderment. “You’re not serious, are you?” When Lucius didn’t answer, you continued. “Kiss any chance of intelligent children in your bloodline goodbye,” you quipped, swirling your wine glass around. “Wasn’t like Draco was going to propagate that trait anyway.”

“I would do a better job than you!” Draco retorted, slamming his own glass down. You smiled a bit; you’d broken him with that remark. “If I recall correctly, dear sister, there were some classes you didn’t fare well in, leading to mother and father having to visit the Headmaster personally.”

You flushed red. It was true, everything he said. It wasn’t your fault that it was just one class you couldn’t do well in, no matter how hard you tried.

“Well, if you spent more time reading than sucking off Pansy’s face in the library, maybe you would’ve graduated with distinction, too.”

“At least someone wanted to date me. Or were you snogging both of the Weasleys when I wasn’t looking?”

“That is enough!” Lucius bellowed. He was loud enough to shut both of you up. “(Y/N), this is despicable conversation and I will not have this at my dinner table.” Of course, this was all your fault. And likely, your father’s head was imploding at the thought of you having relations with a Weasley. Any Weasley.

“Yeah, (Y/N),” Draco whispered. “Don’t be indecent at the table.”

“Shut up,” you whispered back, taking a slow sip of wine to regain composure.

“I will personally extend a dinner invitation to Gregory and his family. We will dine here in a fortnight,” Lucius announced.

“What?” you blurted out. You thought this whole thing was a stupid joke. “For what purposes will you have him here, father?”

“I reckon it’s long overdue that the Malfoys officially make allies with the Goyle family,” Lucius stated. “And I’ve been left with no choice.” He was referring to all the times you’d rejected his friends’ sons.

The look on his face was stern. And for once, you couldn’t tell if he was serious or not.

“If even Genevieve can find a partner to spend her life with, then so can you,” Narcissa cajoled. You would’ve laughed at her veiled insult towards your cousin, but the situation was too dire for humour.

Your father couldn’t possibly want you to romance Goyle. You were envious of Genevieve’s fairytale wedding, but you didn’t want that if Goyle was your betrothed.

You felt acid at the back of your throat. You clenched your jaw. Anger was burned your face, anyone who couldn’t see it would be a fool.

“I won’t have it, father,” you stated coolly. You weren’t going to let Lucius, who never lost at anything, win this one. “If the purpose of the dinner is for me to entertain Goyle.”

The tension in the room was palpable; the atmosphere had taken a complete nosedive. Narcissa and Draco remained completely silent.

“You don’t get to choose everything you want to do in your life, (Y/N),” Lucius gritted through his teeth. “You’ve made a fool of me a million times over because I let you do what you wanted.”

You slumped back in your chair and huffed. Whatever your father wanted, he got. But what if there was a way to circumvent that? The wheels in your head began turning. What if it was improper to have Goyle here in the first place because—

“I’m not sure how my boyfriend would feel about that, honestly,” you said, swirling your wine nonchalantly like you hadn’t told the biggest lie in the world.

And with that, three heads swung around and fixated on you.

“What did you say?” Narcissa asked, her curiosity visible on her face. “I’m not sure I heard correctly.”

“That I have a boyfriend and I’m not sure how he’d feel if he found out my father was trying to set me up with another man,” you responded.

“That’s impossible,” Draco stated. “You just said there was no man suitable for your standards.”

“In general, yes, of course,” you said. “But he’s different.”

“Who is ‘he’?” Draco asked, trying to get you to perjure yourself.

“Why wouldn’t he have come to the wedding?” Narcissa asked. You were lucky that her sudden interest superseded any of Draco’s questions.

“I wasn’t sure how well-received he’d be around such uptight people like Uncle Theo and the rest of our family,” you said. “And he’d would’ve drawn all the attention off Genevieve, which would’ve been disastrous given her constant need for it. Maybe you could meet him in a more intimate setting, like at this dinner father is suggesting we have.”

Lucius’s lip quirked. “And to what—”

“Advantage you’ll have? If you’re looking to better our family name, I assure you he will do a much better job than the Goyles ever could.”

You were so cool despite your frantically-beating heart that you were impressed with yourself. Who knew that deep-down, you could be a stone-cold Malfoy, too? Fred and George surely wouldn’t be impressed with that revelation.

“Fine,” Lucius finally ceded. “Invite him over in a fortnight. But I must warn you, (Y/N), if you do anything to embarrass the family name…”

“I understand, father,” you responded with your hands in the air. You knew the lecture by heart. “I’ll renounce the trust put in my name, and allow Draco inherit it instead.”

“And we’ll invite the Goyles over with the intention of courtship.”

Lucius thought you’d be upset about that, that it was a good enough threat to put you in line. But you didn’t care. You had the wealth of your own savings and the knowledge that Draco would always be your family’s favourite child. If your parents had it their way, Draco would inherit everything and he wouldn’t have to split it with their failure of a daughter. He was brilliant and golden; you were the runt. Empty threats like that meant nothing to you.

“You’re a liar,” whispered Draco from beside you.

“I would never,” you shot back. “Just wait and see.”

“Oh, I’m just aching in anticipation,” he said. “To see how badly you’ll embarrass yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, and adjusted your posture on your seat as the main course, salmon and asparagus, was served by Dobby.

When dinner concluded, you ran up the stairs without a look back. When you were certain you were alone and that every single sound-proofing charm was cast on your room, you frantically opened your drawer. You pulled out a directory and slammed through the pages. Names of old classmates and acquaintances whipped past your vision, but no one seemed to fit what you were looking for: a fake boyfriend to get your parents to sod off for the rest of your life.

You were going to wage another Wizarding War if you asked your male friends who were dating or engaged to other women. And any of the boys you danced off at the country club certainly weren’t going to be on your side.

“Fuck!” you exclaimed, slamming the directory shut.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned back again the bed. You would figure this out tomorrow, if Fred and George could carve out some time for you.

>> NEXT CHAPTER

<< CHAPTER DIRECTORY

#charlie weasley x you #charlie weasley imagine #charlie weasley x reader #charlie weasley fic #bill weasley x reader

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wing-ed-thing · 10 months

Text

The Tea Party (Levi x Reader)

Synopsis: After exhausting days, you and Levi lock yourselves in your office for tea to wind down. But after Erwin's new beast of an assignment, people are starting to encroach on your exclusive club.

Word Count: 5k

Tags/Warnings: Alcohol, No Reader Pronouns, Section Commander Reader, Non-Binary Hange, Brisket

Notes: The first 4k wrote so smoothly until it didn't

Levi closed the door to your office, leaning his back onto the solid wood behind him. His head tilted against it with a gentle thump as he heaved a deep and steady sigh. You were already halfway across the room, struggling to tear your jacket from your shoulders. By the time you managed to free your left arm, the right cuff had snagged itself on the rolled-up sleeve of your button-up. You whipped it to the floor in frustration, and only then were you released from your garment’s grip.

You made brief eye contact with Levi, his gaze as tired and exasperated as your own. He locked your office door without even having to look. A few footsteps echoed out in the hallway. You and Levi eyed each other carefully until you heard them fade into the stairwell. Wordlessly, you made your way around your desk, tugging impatiently at the bottom left drawer to take out your kettle. Something had told you that today would be tedious, so you had convenienced yourself by filling it beforehand.

Levi plucked your jacket off the ground with a single, lazy motion, folding it properly before tossing it onto the corner of your desk. He didn’t have the energy or motivation to scold you; however, given how the week had been going, he didn’t blame you for wanting to peel your uniform off. He might have done the same if another thing had gone awry on the way to your office.

He went straight to the side cart next to your desk as you worked on heating the water. A modestly ornate teapot sat on the little four-wheeled station with a small set of teacups sitting upside down on saucers. The shelf below stored a wide selection of teas and a half-filled sugar bowl, which Levi placed on the top of the cart with the cups. The lowest shelf, which Levi had seldom paid any attention to, held your secret stash of liquors. Levi took one of the glass containers in his hands as he knelt.

“Do you even know how to use a decanter?” he grumbled. You let out a hiss somewhere above on the other side of the desk, having somehow burned yourself.

“A what?” No wonder it was empty.

Levi snorted, placing it back in favor of a full bottle.

Your hand reached down to grip a container of black tea. It wasn’t Levi’s go-to, but a mutual favorite among the small hoard of teas that had been gifted from that Military Police officer you were seeing a few months back. Levi wasn’t one to pass up trying a flight of expensive teas— especially when they weren’t his own— and with your office significantly quieter than his, the arrangement at yours was the obvious choice. Even Captain Levi needed a break sometimes.

He read the label on the round, stout bottle. Steam wafted into the air as you poured the water into the teapot. The water turned darker immediately, even before you placed the lid.

“I didn’t know there was such a proof,” Levi muttered, popping the top open to give the alcohol a smell. He recoiled, swiftly recapping the bottle.

“Oh, you know those MPs. They love any excuse for a party.”

“S’that why it didn’t work out?”

You handed Levi a teacup and saucer, balancing your own in one hand and picking the teapot up by the handle with the other. You shook your head, too tired to be amused.

“Among other things.”

You slumped down at the table for two in front of your large office window, heaving out a deep sigh. While half of your view was obscured by dull brick— and uncomfortably, another window that peered into yours from a different hallway— the other half allowed you a modestly dreamy view of Trost. You took a sip of your tea. Levi sat across from you, placing the bottle of alcohol between you at the center of the table. With a flick of his wrist, the cap fell onto the wood below.

You raised your brow at him from over the rim of your cup.

“You want to drink?”

Levi only shrugged, leaning back in his chair. He gazed out the window over the lantern lights that littered Trost.

“You look like you need it.”

You slouched down farther in your chair until the back nestled against the bend of your neck. One side of your saucer balanced against the folds of the bunched-up fabric at the front of your button-up. You let out another sigh, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

Levi leaned an elbow on the table, cheek in his palm as he continued to stare out the window. He crossed his boots, ankles stretching over the legs of the tripod base. He sipped his tea, eyes almost as glazed over as the glass he gazed through. A vein just above his left eye began to twitch. Levi placed his cup down, letting it clink against the delicate saucer. He rubbed at his forehead with the heel of his palm, letting his head bow as his fingers ran through his greasy hair.

You sat up, struggling as the legs of your chair tilted against the hardwood floor. The inch of liquid in your cup sloshed, almost spilling over the sides. It settled as you traded it for the open bottle of alcohol at the center of the table. Levi’s slender eyes studied you from behind his ruffled bangs.

“So you did need it.”

“Shut up.”

You took a swig straight from the bottle. Levi sat hunched over, arms crossed on the wooden surface below as he watched you read the label. The liquid splashed against the glass as you swirled it. You glanced at the amber liquid, then at your teacup, and with an amused dip of your lip, you filled it—the leftover tea mixed with the alcohol, producing a lighter color. Levi’s nose crinkled at the sight.

“You degenerate.” He scowled as you took a tentative sip. Your lips pursed, pleasantly surprised. You hummed, offering him the bottle. The corner of Levi’s mouth dipped into a deeper frown, the twitch of his eye almost syncing with the twitch of his lips.

He snatched the neck from your grip, turning his attention back to the window. Levi turned it in his hand so that the opening faced toward him. The weight of it settled on the space between his thumb and pointer finger. He took his sip from the reverse grip, a series of bubbles bursting at the bottom of the bottle. Levi returned it to the table with a flick of his wrist.

“Same time next week?”

You studied the dregs at the bottom of your teacup.

“You think we’ll last a week?” A single drop of brown liquid raced around the circumference of the teacup as you tilted it. Your eyebrow raised on your forehead. Levi let out a grunt as he stood. He muttered something in agreement as he capped your expensive alcohol.

You stood in suit, shrugging two of your leather straps off your shoulders as you plopped down in the chair behind your desk. Levi collected the cup you left behind on a tray as you scooted in to thumb through the files on your desk. He tilted the doorknob down with his elbow before disappearing into the dark hallway.

You stared at the paperwork in front of you, going so far as picking up a pen to fill out a few forms before Levi came back. You hardly heard him when he did, only noticing the quiet rattle of your newly cleaned tea set as he placed it back on your cart. The amount of paperwork that you managed to finish had already formed into a significant pile to your right.

He spoke your name, placing a hand firmly on your shoulder.

“That’s enough. It’ll be waiting for you in the morning.”

You didn’t try to fight him and retired your pen for the night without complaint. Levi held up your jacket, helping you put it on before you exited your office together.

***

You woke up before the sun even rose, unfortunately. After a night of shallow sleep, you barely even remembered falling asleep or if you had fallen asleep at all. The only evidence of the hours passed was the slowly ticking clock hanging on the wall near the ceiling. You laid in bed, watching the second hand make a few laps before you finally forced yourself out of bed.

You witnessed the rest of the sunrise passively from your office, noting how the shadows of the various items on your desk moved slowly throughout the day. With the paperwork from the night before long finished, you continued with other administrative work, knowing that the mountain of files would undoubtedly keep you up for another restless night if you didn’t finish them sooner rather than later.

The door to your office opened suddenly sometime in the early afternoon. Levi shut it swiftly and firmly behind him, letting out a deep huff as he locked it. His hand gripped a cotton handle cover tightly, turning red from the tension and the kettle that steamed below. You hardly looked up from your work, sparing only a single glimpse before clearing away a bit of the chaos in front of you.

“You come here to hide again? I thought you said we’d pick up next week.”

“If I hear ‘Captain Levi’ again, even once for the rest of the day, I’m going to lose it.” He stormed forward, making a beeline straight for your tea cart. You reached down into your desk drawers to pluck out a trivet, throwing it forward to the edge of your workspace for Levi to place his kettle. It smacked down with a metallic slam before he knelt to rifle through your tea selection. “I swear, those brats don’t understand the meaning of a closed door.”

You glanced from the top of his head to your own door.

“Clearly,” you mused with a roll of your eyes. Levi peered up at you with a deep grimace.

“Don’t you get smart with me.” He stood, a new tea in his palm, as he took to aggressively making a pot. “You don’t get bothered every minute of every goddamn day.”

“It just means the soldiers look up to you. You’re the one with the special unit, after all,” you noted, an almost mischievous glint in your eyes. Levi’s unspoken annoyance seeped into the atmosphere in waves. You eyed the new tin, tilting your head to read the label. “That’s a new one. I didn’t think you’d like the lavender.”

“Do you want some or not?” Levi frowned despite already pouring a cup for you. You set down your pen— it had already left a sizeable ink spot on your paper— to accept it from him. Levi took his cup to the table by the window, settling in the same seat from the previous night.

You let him huff to himself, happy to have a nice beverage to sip on while you finished your continued to work. He’d calm himself down, given the quietness.

At least, so you thought.

A blunt banging sounded somewhere down the hallway, a few muffled calls echoing through the door. You could hardly make out the words, although Levi seemed to have a better idea than you did.

“Tsk, you hear them down there?” His shoulders bopped with his scoff. He took another sip of his tea. “They come to me for everything.”

“What if it’s important?” you asked absentmindedly, adding an extra loop to your signature on a routine approval form. You played with a stray strand of hair at the back of your neck.

“It never is.”

Apparently, it was this time.

A heavy knock sounded at your door, your name resounding from the other side, the same as Levi’s had. Levi frowned, face otherwise unintelligible as you crossed the room to answer. You clicked the lock, opening the entrance only a partial way to face the cadet in the hallway.

“Very sorry to interrupt,” the cadet saluted, “These came from Commander Erwin. He said you’d know what they were.” She offered you a fat stack of bound papers from the crux of her left arm. You bid a quick thanks before sending the cadet on her way.

You pushed the door shut with your foot, turning slowly to where Levi sat. The five-inch stack of paper slumped limply between your two hands as you offered Levi a vast, blank stare.

“What are the chances that there’s one of these waiting for you in your mailbox right now?”

Levi’s shoulders visibly dropped along with his expression.

“You’ve got to be fucking with me.”

***

If you had to give Erwin credit for one thing, it was his organizational skill.

The thick set of files gifted to you was separated into neat, hand-labeled sections. Hell, they were color-coded, making for clear goalposts for you to aim to finish. The entire thing was laid out like a workbook, sandwiching meeting minutes with verification forms, certificates, and other items that required signatures.

Levi appeared back at your office within minutes of you receiving yours, and sure enough, he held an amount of papers double the size of the file you had received, the paper creasing in his punishing grip.

“So you got one too,” you sighed, arms coiled over your chest.

“I can’t say I was happy about the work, but this—” You scooped up his abandoned teacup just in time as he slammed half the paperwork against your little table. The papers fanned out, revealing scattered, upside-down documents. Levi gestured curtly, one hand shoved into his pocket as he shifted his weight. —“I want that brat cadet’s name because she left mine spilling out all over the floor. The thing didn’t even fit into my mailbox. Hange’s the same, though not as bad as mine.”

He slammed the second half— apparently Hange’s— onto his chair. An apparent quarter of the documents at the bottom had been visibly shuffled. Dividers stuck out among both piles, marking sections that used to have been painstakingly organized by Erwin.

Levi plucked a note from the middle of the pile.

“As discussed in our last meeting, please have these done by the end of next week,” Levi read aloud. “Thank you for all of your hard work. Signed, Commander Erwin Smith. Like we didn’t know… Pretentious bastard.”

You tilted your head back to stare at the ceiling, allowing yourself to wallow for only a few seconds before you turned to grab your copy of the files from your desk. Levi grumbled about a few more things that you just about tuned out. Something about an encyclopedia. You returned with your copy, disregarding Levi’s presence completely as you strode past him to your chair on the opposite side of the table. Levi’s claimed chair still sat full of Hange’s paperwork.

You took a section of Levi’s files that appeared to have stayed together, taking note of the section and headings as you thumbed through the organized version on your lap. Levi stood over you, foot tapping against your area rug with crossed arms.

“So?” he prompted, neck craning. You glanced between the section in your hand and your version before turning a page on both.

“It looks like it’s all in the same order,” you pronounced, focusing more on the pages than talking. “A few documents that have my name on them, but they seem to be a different color. Mine are organized by section, but I’m sure we can figure out where they go if we collect all the ones that are specific to you and Hange.” You placed Levi’s portion back on the table, holding your own bound file up like a book.

“See—” You tapped the page where Erwin had taped the same note he left for Levi. —“Erwin even left a smiley face on mine.” Levi huffed, snatching it before crinkling it and disposing of it.

“Did you happen to see Miche?” You asked with a slight frown, but you decided to disregard Levi’s disposal of your smiley face. He shook his head.

“No, he didn’t have one in his box. Must’ve left as soon as he got it… I don’t blame him.” He took the scattered pile from the table into his hands, corralling them as best he could into an organized stack. He leveled them against the surface of the table.

“And Hange isn’t getting back for a few days,” you said. Levi hummed affirmatively as you flipped through your work, gauging the content. “You know… I feel like we can bang the whole thing out in a few nights if we take a couple of sections at a time.”

Levi blinked at you. His lip pursed as if he wanted to say something, but he remained quiet. He turned his attention to the window with a sigh and shake his head.

“I’m getting shit sleep anyway. Whatever.”

***

Miche left his bundle on his desk, hoping it would be less daunting in the morning. Instead, when he came into the office, he could have sworn that the pile of paperwork had grown. It stared at him from the corner of his desk for the better part of the morning before he gave in and began working on it just over an hour before lunch. And now, it was almost three hours past standard work time, and Miche had hardly made a dent.

He took the collection of finished documents in his hand, skimming through the front and back of each. The ensemble had felt like more when Miche was filling everything out. But now, as he took in the indentations of his pen and the thickness of the stack, he couldn’t help but heave a steady breath.

Miche glanced at his watch, debating whether he wanted to turn in and take a break from his administrative burnout, when he smelled a pleasant scent in the air. He looked around his office, staring off speculatively at the ceiling before rising out of his chair. The light from his desk lamp illuminated the space in front of his office as he ventured out into the hallway, and it only took him a few steps until he was at your door.

Miche wondered if you also happened to stay late, and if you did, he assumed you were struggling just as much with Erwin’s latest assignment. He took another inhale, now confident that this was where the smell was coming from. Muffled voices spoke on the other side, too quietly to hear. Light illuminated from underneath your office’s entrance. Miche knocked, and the room went silent for a moment before he heard,

“Come in.”

Miche saw Levi first as he sat, ankles crossed at a table across from you. Upon further inspection, the table appeared to have had two leaves added to it, elongating it awkwardly into the center of your office. You turned in your own chair, elbow resting against the chair’s back as you offered Miche a wave, seemingly surprised to see him. The extended table held a smattering of paperwork, a teapot, two teacups, and two plates of half-finished dinner sat adjacent to you and Levi, respectively. The rest of the delicious-smelling dinner that led Miche here sat in covered containers on the wide windowsill.

“You got it, too, huh?” Levi presumed. Miche nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the doorframe. He eyed the papers, but they were too unorganized to gleam any meaningful information about your progress.

“How far are you?” Miche asked skeptically with a slight squint of his eyes. The inch-and-a-half-thick pile you held up nearly made him gawk. “You’re kidding.” You offered him a sympathetic expression, gesturing him in.

“You want to join us? We still have some dinner.”

Miche considered your offer, reaching up as he gripped the lip of the door. He swayed it between his fingers as he thought, his chin jerking downwards as he considered the question he was going to ask.

“We can work on it together?” he questioned, voice almost comically low and soft. Miche’s brows wrinkled, the slightest bit of tension on his forehead. Levi rolled his eyes as his teacup hovered halfway to his lips.

“What is this? A school?” he scoffed.

“Levi’s copy got all messed up, so we’ve been working on it together. Same with Hange. Well, they’re not back yet, but theirs got messed up too.” You yawned. “You can join us if you want, but no pressure. Levi makes a great cup of tea, though.”

“You’re volunteering me now, huh?”

Miche glanced back at the leftovers on the windowsill and inhaled the sweet aroma of your tea. He gave the door two quick taps, flicking his index finger before wordlessly turning on his heel.

“I’ll be right back.”

***

You decided to call it quits at some ungodly hour of the night. Miche pinched the bridge of his nose, massaging the area around his inner eyes as he fought off exhaustion. Neither you nor Levi appeared remotely as tired as you buzzed around the office, putting back the various cups, pens, and other accouterments you used during your group work session. The two of you looked exhausted, Miche decided, but not tired— if there was such an appearance.

He stood, finally clearing the last of his papers off the table with a yawn.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked for yet another time. You shook your head.

“No, we’re almost wrapped up here. Thanks, Miche.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, bidding the two of you a good night as he entered the dark hall. Miche could still see the light of your office on by the time he exited Headquarters.

***

Miche was apparently a very talented home cook, and Hange had evidently returned a half day early. You learned both things in approximately the same moment, having just tasted your first spoonful of Miche’s homemade risotto when Hange burst through your door.

“You guys have food?” they cried before Levi sent them off to grab one of those shitty little plates from the floor kitchenette— his words.

Hange had apparently always been one to stick around Headquarters late, passing up the stairs and down the tiny hallway that faced directly into your office. And not one to be left out, Hange had seemingly forgotten all about their latest Titan-related project to practically knock down your door. Levi made a fourth cup of tea.

That was how Erwin, incidentally, found all of you together.

Almost a week had passed since he sent out the files to all the section commanders, and while Erwin intended on following up with all four of you before your next meeting, the task had inadvertently slipped his mind. Before he realized, it had already become the end of the day, with the joint gathering looming early on the next day’s schedule.

Already significantly past business hours, Erwin doubted that you would all still be in the office. At the very least, he could probably catch Hange, he decided as he made his way down the stairwell. The entire headquarters experienced a move a few months back, and while all the section commanders got their own offices adjacent to each other, Erwin’s had been moved two floors up.

He heard Hange’s voice before he even opened the door to the landing. It echoed throughout the empty hallway as Erwin walked past the locked doors of each section commander’s office before stopping at yours at the end of the block. Hange’s voice grew clearer. Erwin knocked firmly at your door, satisfied at the prospect of being able to check in on you and Hange at the same time. He heard an audible hum from the other side.

“Who could that be?” he heard Hange ask before you called for him to come in.

An immense, savory scent of cooking meat blasted him as he entered, and much to his surprise, all four of his section commanders were present in your office. At the very least, he had expected Levi and Miche to have already left.

He spotted Hange first, who sat with a cup of tea behind your desk among the pile of paperwork he assigned. Erwin recognized it, even as it was scattered into sections. However, the deconstructed pile didn’t hold his attention as much as the large crockpot at the edge of the desk did.

Miche held the lid with one hand. A pair of tongs was gripped in the other as a pulled meat of some sort steamed from between the claws. He held a bottle of scotch under one arm.

You and Levi sat at the table at the side of the room set for dinner and topped off with your delicate tea set.

Erwin glanced between the four of you, fighting off the goofy smile that threatened to form on his lips. He shook his head, clearing his throat as his arms coiled across his chest as he tapped his foot.

“So,” he started, unable to help the amusement that laced his voice, “What’s going on here?” Erwin watched as you turned to eye each other, hoping that one of you had an adequate response.

“Well, uh,” you began, glancing around the room. You gestured to Miche. “Miche made a brisket and potatoes.”

“And the champagne?” Erwin gestured with his thick brows to the ice bucket at the center of your coffee table. What used to be a sitting area for guests had been moved aside to accommodate your extended table. Three full stacks of papers sat neatly adjacent to your celebratory wine.

“We finally finished the beast you surprised us with— thanks for that, by the way. Well, expect Four-Eyes over there.” Levi spat in his usual charm, ushering plates to Miche to load with food and back to the table.

“I’m almost… done.” Hange stood, making a lazy attempt at snatching a filled plate from Levi’s hands. He pivoted, holding it out of their reach.

“No dinner until it’s finished.” He smacked their intruding hand, walking a few steps to the table to place the plate in front of you. You caught him by the sleeve, giving him a gentle tug.

“Hange deserves dinner, too.” You leaned forward, fully turning away from the door as you caught Hange’s eye. “You only have, like, another section, right?” They nodded, and Levi reluctantly gave Miche a fourth plate to fill with food.

“You finished already?” Erwin asked in surprise, already across your area rug to take in the three piles on your coffee table. He thumbed through them; sure enough, they were all filled out and accounted for.

“Yeah, with no help from that idiot you sent,” Levi said, finally settling down in his chair across from you. Miche shrugged, gathering the last portion of food in the crock pot.

“I finished yesterday.” By the time Erwin turned around, you, Levi, and Hange were already seated. Miche motioned with his tongs. “Did you… want any?” Hange held up the container of mashed potatoes victoriously, waving it in the air.

Another plate disappeared from the floor’s kitchenette.

***

“So much for quiet time,” Levi muttered, scrubbing at the last of the dishes in the kitchenette sink. You let out a light laugh, fatigue making you lost in the glass you were drying.

“I thought dinner was nice.”

“You know what I mean.”

You didn’t answer, listening to the sink run. A single light above you flickered dully above as you stood in silence. You sat on the counter behind him, staring off into the hallway window. You didn’t turn even as you heard Levi shut the water off. He tugged the hand towel out of your grip before hanging it on a nearby handle. The glass you were drying was taken too, and placed on the surface next to you.

“Don’t sit on the counter, it’s disgusting.” He offered his hand as he frowned up at you. You took it, sliding to the floor. Levi hit the light as you left the kitchenette together. “We’re going to have to find somewhere else soon.” You hummed in thought.

“With Erwin’s assignment done, I doubt the late nights will be a regular thing for everyone.” Levi scoffed, holding open the door to the stairwell. “My office should be fine sooner or later.”

“If we ever get that much all at once again—”

“I know you’ll give him an earful tomorrow.” Your voice reverberated in tandem with your footsteps. The moon shone clearly in the sky, illuminating your way as you traveled down. You saw it clearly when you finally made it into the outside courtyard. “We could always use your office.”

“Like hell.”

“Or—” You stopped, turning to face him. –“We can go somewhere that’s not Headquarters?” Levi glanced briefly over the cobblestone streets, hands shoved in his pockets.

“Somewhere that’s not Trost.”

You nodded, looping your arm through his, tugging him along as you continued to walk.

“Sounds good to me.”

Thank you to all who liked, reblogged, followed, and supported. Your support means so much and is greatly appreciated.

Notes: I always write the Survey Corps as doing a lot of paperwork, partially because I see them as needing to cut through bureaucratic BS and also because I like giving them mundane things to do. I'd like to think that half of the leadership duty in between kicking ass is just... administrative haha

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countinglegoclowns · 1 year

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I’ve been experiencing a lot of su brainrot lately so. Take these lol I’ve put a stupid amount of thought into them

Rambling under the cut

Pigsy is a Rubellite!

They’re often confused with rubies, and they have similar jobs, though rubellites are a little tougher and more stout

His weapon is his rake

Tang is an Amber!

Ambers are only a tiny step above pearls, though much shorter, and are often used to categorize information. They became largely obsolete in later eras as it was hard to make them.

Tang can summon wings and his weapon is a khakkhara

Their fusion, Baozi, is a Carnelian!!

Ultimate dad, totally balances out pigsy and tang

Always cooking/eating something

His weapon is a large, spiked club

#my art #tang lmk #pigsy lmk #Lego monkie kid #freenoodles #freenoodlesshipping #god I have to come up with a tag for this #Gemstone Monkies #that’ll work #love how i based baozis design off of Baozhai bc I thought it would be funny lol

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notmazikeen · 2 months

Text

SixEyed | Gojo Satoru

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

‧₊˚✧[chapter 3]✧˚₊‧

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The club music was loud, the vibrations of the loud music influenced your intoxication. Shoko had taken you to the middle of the dance floor. It was almost embarrassing how she dragged you through everyone.

You could feel the stares burning through your skin. A slight anxious feeling crept up on you, why? Probably because you never had felt this much attention in a while. Of course you were attractive, but you'd never become accustomed to the attention.

"They're playing our song!" Shoko exclaimed, breaking your trance.

You paused for a moment trying to listen to the music starting to play, an excited look spreading across your face. "Baby By Me" by 50 Cent began to play.

Shoko's grip on your hand was tight as she began to yell out the lyrics with you. She was clearly buzzed, but hell who wasn't right now. You let the worries escape your mind as you began to sway to the beat.

Nights like these made you beyond happy. Just you and your best friend against the world.

You had closed your eyes for a moment, letting the music overcome your senses. You had gotten goosebumps from the way you felt way too buzzed, your favorite song blasting in the background, and remembering how hot you had looked.

The only thing that broke your trance was when Shoko's hand left yours. You opened your eyes to find her up against Suguru. She mouthed a "sorry" before he had stolen her from you.

You rolled your eyes playfully and turned to walk back to the table. Only to be met with a rather stout figure stopping your actions. Your eyes had widened slightly and you craned your neck up to meet the figure's eyes.

"I'm so sorry!" You squeaked. The tall man had black hair and dark eyes... He looked actually terrifying. His body was toned and built. He even had a scar on his lip that you could barely make out with the dim lights. "It's okay, beautiful." He rasped out.

Oh shit his voice was sexy...

"Toji," His palm reached for yours. Grabbing it softly and edging it close to his lips. Planting a greeting kiss upon it. "and you?" He smirked softly.

You felt flustered and gave him a weak smile as you said your name. With your hand still in his, he pulled you closer. "Can I buy you a drink?" He offered. His neck craning down to meet the crook of your neck.

You graciously accepted and he led you to the back of the building. Sitting down at one of the barstools, you looked towards your booth. That's weird... Where did he go?

"Beautiful?" Toji called out. You turned your attention back to him. "Oh, sorry. Yea?" You sheepishly spat out.

"I asked what you wanted to drink, hun." He sounded almost impatient? "A vodka red bull please." A soft smile across your lips, trying to deescalate his rather harsh tone.

After a moment, the two of you had gotten your drinks. Toji would not stop talking about himself... It was beginning to become annoying. How could someone so attractive be this fuckin' annoying. You stifled a laugh, thinking back to Satoru. Maybe the two were friends.

"Want to go back to my place?" Toji smirked. You tilted your head and rested your chin on your palm. "I don't do hookups." You giggled softly. Taking this as your chance to make a break for it.

He gave a fake pout and asked again. You declined once more before grabbing your phone and leaving the bar. "Bye, Toji." You said softly with a wave.

You looked down at your phone and texted Shoko quickly. Trying to keep your eyes up and focused on your surroundings. "Help. Creepy man." You texted.

None of the members of your group were at the booth or around you. It made you worry to be alone. A few minutes had gone by when you suddenly jumped. A strong hand gripped your waist and pulled you close to their chest. This man was slimmer, so not Toji.

"Hey. Shoko said you needed help." He whispered into your ear. You sighed in relief realizing it was Satoru. "Thank fuck. Some dude named Toji was up my ass." You whined out.

Satoru led you back to the booth your group had claimed. He helped you sit down carefully, then he followed. Sitting closer than he did earlier. His demeanor had shifted. He didn't stare at you now, he'd only glance at you. His eyes fixed on the dance floor. Clearly, his mind was on everything but you.

"You said his name was Toji?" Satoru broke the silence. He turned his head slightly to you, his eyes just barely meeting yours. "Yea I think. He has black hair and a facial scar."

Satoru nodded and exhaled loudly from his nose. His hand found its way to your knee. His grip was tight... The hell?

Maybe the two of you were just drunk. "Toji is a horrible man. I can only stand his ego for so long." Satoru growled. Uh oh. Here the man himself comes, approaching your booth with a shit eating grin.

"Ah. I see how it is, honey. Gojo fuckin' you good?" Toji snickers. Standing in front of the table now. Satoru had an expressionless face, but his grip on your knee grew tighter. Good thing the table was covering your legs, because Toji would have definitely commented on that.

"Don't speak to her like that. Get outta here Toji." Satoru released his grip on your knee to rise to his feet. He held a protective stance, it was almost hot how he blocked Toji from your view.

"Calm down SixEyed. Wouldn't want to upset the pretty girl." Toji side stepped and crossed his arms. Leaning against the end of the table. Satoru let out an animalistic noise, like a wolf growling over a kill. "Shut your fuckin' mouth!"

"Oh shit!" Suguru's voice appeared behind Toji. He pushed between the two. "Both of you calm down."

Shoko instinctively grabbed your hand and led you away. The boys began to bicker, Satoru holding a menacing look while Toji looked excited. Satoru stepped closer to Toji and Suguru. "Gojo no!" Suguru grabbed Gojo from behind and swung him around. Toji couldn't help but snicker at Satoru's attempt to punch him.

"Outside now!" Geto boomed. He was constantly the mediator for the group, always saving Gojo's ass from getting beat.

Satoru grunted and quickly pushed past the crowd of people staring at the altercation. "Fuckin' Fushiguro. I'll beat that bastard's ass." He growled under his breath. Suguru, Shoko, and you followed the white haired man outside.

"Hey... let's just go back to my house?" You quietly mumbled to Shoko and Suguru. They nodded and the three of you began walking to Satoru's expensive sports car.

You paused for a moment and turned your head to look behind you. Satoru stood against the wall of the club. His arms crossed and his face unreadable. You signaled him to follow with a wave of your hand, to which he slowly made his way towards you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to cause this..." You whine. Feeling shameful for embarrassing your friends.

"Don't." Satoru said with a harsh tone. This made your head drop, fuck you fucked up.

He sighed loudly and placed a hand on the small of your back. Rubbing soft circles with his thumb. "Thank you Satoru." You mumbled. Not daring to raise your head.

He hummed in response. Leading you carefully back to his car. You and Gojo were the more intoxicated of the group, so Suguru drove and Shoko accompanied him up front in the passenger seat.

"Gojo you can't be doing that shit!" Suguru sighed heavily. He pinched his nose bridge and started to drive off. Satoru rolled his eyes and placed a hand on your knee. You could feel his body shift in his seat, seemingly relaxing.

"That bastard shouldn't have kept trying to pursue her." Satoru grumbled out. His thumb drew circles on your lower thigh, you wondered if maybe this was his way of self soothing. Your hand slowly traveled to his pointer finger. Taking it in your hand and holding it softly. Giving him a few reassuring squeezes.

Shoko looked at Suguru with a raised brow. "Okay well calm down. She's alright. Thank you for accompanying her though." Shoko said with a weak smile. You nodded to Gojo. Mouthing the words "thank you" again.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You and Shoko were in your room of your small apartment. About to change out of your club clothes. The air was thick with tension, mostly shame.

"Hey Sho...?" You asked softly, trying to be quiet enough so the boys wouldn't hear. She perked her head up and turned around to face you. "Yea?" She said through a yawn.

"Why'd he get so defensive? We hardly even know each other."

Shoko attempted to cover her smile with her palm. "Y'know he's had his eye on you for a while. Plus Toji is his... competition." She snickered softly. Shoko raised her brows, her smile turning into a shit eating grin.

"As in?" You paused and widened your eyes. "Wait, there's no way Toji is 'Glock19' right?!" Shoko quickly covered your mouth and looked at the door. She then nodded with a giggle.

"He is. Satoru gets upset with him a lot though. Toji always seems to find his way into Satoru's 'flings' pant's." Shoko sighed softly. Uncovering your mouth and walking into your bathroom to change.

Wait. Does that mean Gojo likes you? Maybe not. Maybe he was just in need, he did say in his stream that he was 'pent up'. You shrugged it off with a soft sigh and grabbed your pjs to change into.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The four of you were sitting on your bed now, luckily you had a king size bed, so everyone fit. Even Satoru and Suguru had room to stretch their rather long legs.

"I have that spare room for Shoko if you two need to stay the night." You said with a cheerful smile. Suguru had went to the corner store to buy more alcohol while you and Shoko were changing earlier. You and Satoru weren't usual drinkers, so Suguru had gotten some cheap wine coolers for you and him.

He made him and Shoko drink some rough liquor, which she had no problem downing it.

Shoko was sitting between Suguru's legs while leaning against his chest. Suguru was laying against your headboard to support himself along with the added weight of your friend. Satoru was sprawled out beside you. Under your covers, as he said he was so cold his dick might fall off.

You were under the covers as well, you had to keep your air conditioning on and your fan to sleep at night, which always made the apartment at least 67º at night. You felt Gojo shift in the bed, then feeling his leg brush against yours.

You were too drunk to even process just how close the white haired man was to you.

You had turned a movie on for the four of you to watch, although it was difficult to hear because Satoru kept mumbling to Suguru about Toji. Satoru was facing towards the end of the bed, his feet facing towards you. Giving you the perfect opportunity to softly slap his calf. "Satoru shut up! I can't hear!" You pouted. Earning a laugh from your friends.

The movie was coming to an end and everyone was feeling rather exhausted. "Me and Sugu will sleep in the spare room. Night guys." Shoko said cheerfully before her and Geto left the room. Giggling about something as they left.

Satoru shifted and got up, now laying beside you in the bed. His tall figure leaning against the headboard. He looked down at you with a pout. "Can I stay in here? I don't want to hear them have sex." He whined.

"I guess." You stifled a giggle. "Keep your hands to yourself though."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course I will, hun." He hummed softly.

A few minutes had gone by of him searching for a movie to put on in the background. Soon he found a boring enough movie to have as background noise, to block out the other two in case they did have sex. The whole situation made you giggle.

You snuggled up against your comforter, covering your chin and down with it. Satoru laid on his side facing you. His bright blue eyes staring at you. Staring into your soul it felt like.

"Fuck you are so beautiful." He mumbled. This caught your attention, which was lost in trying to figure out why he looked so attractive right now.

"Thank you." You let out a soft giggle. Your face was showing obvious signs of being flustered. Hopefully the tv wasn't all that bright to give it away. "Can I ask something?"

Gojo nodded slowly, feeling a bit unsure of where this was going. "I know." You smirked softly and turned your back to him. Hiding your smile with the covers.

Wait fuck why did you even bring this up? Will he get upset or mad at you? Surely not? Fuck this might turn out so bad.

A smirk spread across his lips, you could feel his body weight shift in the bed. He felt closer. His body felt so hot against your back. You could feel his warmth radiating off his body. Fuck he was so close. Why did it suddenly get so hot?

He placed a hand on your shoulder, and brought his lips to the shell of your ear. Your face felt like it was throbbing with anticipation.

"I know. Shoko told me." He purred out. His voice was slurring a bit. Maybe he won't remember this!

Fear spread through your body as his words left his lips. Sending a shiver down your spine. Satoru's breath was hot and coated with the smell of alcohol. It was almost just as intoxicating as the actual alcohol you had drank.

"Goodnight." He whispered before pulling away. His tone was full of ego. Was he proud of himself??

"Night Satoru." You mumbled. Feeling your breath catch in your throat. Soon silence enveloped your room. It wasn't awkward silence, just comforting quietness. Satoru had laid back against his pillow, a soft huff escaping his lips.

After about an hour you had fallen asleep, with an insane amount of tossing and turning. Satoru noticed you were finally comfortable. The only reason was because you kept scooting closer to him.

It was almost painful how close you were, but yet not making contact with him.

He used all of his strength to control his urge to hold you. He had always hoped this moment would come, once his odd obsession with you began, which was around two years ago when you met Shoko.

Satoru was about to drift off into sleep when your body turned around to face him. Wrapping your arm around his waist instinctively. His eyes widened a bit before he relaxed. Taking in the warmth of your body.

"Mmmm Toru." You mumbled through your sleep. He closed his eyes tightly and pulled you flush against the side of his chest. Pushing his head into his pillow, trying to constrain himself. Your leg intertwined itself around his, putting half your body on top of his.

Satoru softly stroked your back, rubbing his small circles with his thumb. "Fuck you look so peaceful..." He strained out under his breath.

As your nuzzled your head against his chest and soothed yourself back into a deep sleep, Satoru finally found himself drifting off as well.

This would be the best sleep of your life, since you left your ex boyfriend, and fuck was Satoru so much better than him in every way.

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