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#BUT I want to share that like... a reason I've kinda had a hard time getting into comics is because like... really interesting premises--

am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

Note

AITA for not having time to read my mutual's writing?

Met a mutual on here, bonded through fanfic, have been tight with them for a few years with pretty much no bumps in the relationship, just overall had a really good time hanging around them when I could. We both write a lot and share our writing, and occasionally we talk about that writing/workshop it in passing.

In the past few years I've gone through a ton of life changes. Most notably I went from a multi-person household to a single-person one, and I've been living alone in a prohibitively costly city for a while now working 40 hour weeks and barely scraping by. As soon as the transition started I spent the last of my free income on a shitty little laptop so I could still write, putting down words on my bus/train commutes in the morning and quite literally writing on my breaks at work because I feel insane when I can't create. I bring this up to really stress that I don't have the time for the hobby, I force myself to make the time and even then it never feels like enough.

The only thing I can really stand to do with my 3 hours of free time at night is hang out with my moots online. I'm an extrovert so being around people recharges me. If I don't have designated social time I get super depressed and can pretty much feel my soul withering away. I also feel like I should probably mention that I kinda have a slew of mental issues, personality disorders and PTSD and AuDHD and the works. Point being, shit is rough my dude, but I am a person who likes to work hard and face challenges head on and even though we strugglin, we doing it with a positive outlook.

But! I am an incredibly solution-oriented person and I have found what I personally believe to be a good balance. No one should have to live like this, but I do, and I have found a way to be happy. My writing and my social time is all load-bearing. It is not something I just choose to do on a whim, it's all planned and scheduled and I adhere to those routines very strictly because, I cannot stress this enough, I will go fucking bonkers if I don't.

I'm mutuals with a lot of writers obv, and I sadly don't have time to read their work anymore, unless I get some extra time on my days off or something gets cancelled or like, I end up taking a vacation. I carry a great amount of guilt for this, though, even though I logically know it's reasonable. I try to support them where I can, cheer them on when I see them writing and tell them how cool their ideas sound, hype them up even when I can't actually read & review.

One of the things I do is sometimes I leave a kudos on fic I haven't read. I'm not trying to be ingenuine, and if they asked me I'd tell them like 'Oh I didn't read it yet, just wanted to show support!' but to me it's kinda like ripping a paper tab off a poster so that other's feel inclined to do the same. Plus my pals get a little email and a hit of serotonin.

Except one of my acquaintances, the one I mentioned at the start here, saw that I left kudos on a couple pieces another mutual of mine wrote this year. They more or less blew up my DMs with a ton of accusatory (like, literally presented like a 'GOTCHA!') stuff about how I was selective in who's fic I read, more or less implying that I secretly held some sort of grudge or negative feeling toward them and was making the conscious decision not to read or interact with their writing because of. Something, I don't actually know what they were trying to say. They also told me they vented to their friends about this MULTIPLE times, but they never once approached me to let me know they were feeling paranoid or neglected, they literally just took the most bad faith reading of it possible and then presented that to me like it was something I intentionally did, while the whole time I was unaware.

I tried to explain to them the kudos thing, that I didn't do it to every story, just ones I caught/noticed in my busy schedule. And I laid all this out and asked, multiple times, what free time am I supposed to read with? They didn't answer, and doubled down, kept trying to show me 'proof' that I was shorting them and no one else. Once they started to realize how wrong they were they backed down, but they didn't really apologize, or admit they were wrong, and they tried to end our relationship and left every single server we were in together. Because of some other unrelated stuff going on in my life, I didn't really consider them to be a close friend, but they were someone I really held dear and would've walked through hell for if they'd asked.

I still feel like there is something I'm missing here, and that's why I wanted to ask if I'm TA. I'm a pretty good communicator but one of the things I told myself when talking down my disordered thoughts (guilt about this prior) was "no one in their right mind would use reading fanfic as a metric for friendship." Now that I've had that exact thing happen, I'm starting to think maybe those thoughts weren't so disordered. Maybe this IS a big deal, and I should think about it more, but I don't even know what the solution to that would be. I just. Don't have time to read something lovingly crafted and appreciate it for what it is. All the hours in my week are used up, I'd have to lose sleep for this and with my mental health the way it is that is not an option.

Feel free to be a brutal, my skin is thick. Thanks!

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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signedkoko · 5 months

Note

Howdy!

Makes perfect sense about the requests, thank you for letting me know!

There was really one idea that I've been thinking about but it's kinda angsty and cliche so I understand if it's not the most interesting prompt

It's for poly Stolas and Blitzø x reader (but if you don't write poly relationships they can be separate)- finding their s/o crying? Usually their (s/o) tries to be self-sufficient and while they're in touch with their emotions, feel uncomfortable being vulnerable about it.

I understand if you choose not to write it for any reason, though. Take care 💛💛

-🐻

Stolas X Reader X Blitzo [Comfort]

In which the two stumble upon you crying, and do their best to comfort you.

Of the two, you are likely to be the most down to earth, go with the flow person

It works best that way with two large personalities, they give you all the love and attention you could need

And ultimately, you are very good at working through your own problems more personally, since a lot of them don't concern your lovers

The both of them have a lot of more pressing matters that require a lot of support, though Blitzo is far more begrudging about his issues

It was just that, recently, everyone has been so busy, and you found yourself falling below the line of being 'okay enough'

Except Blitzo had so many clients with IMP recently, and it was that time of year where Stolas has to participate in all kinds of royal ceremonies required of his lineage

So you were mostly home alone, seeing them at the end of the day and, if lucky, during breakfast

It's not to say they were neglecting you or one another, but there was a mutual understanding that the three of you had very demanding lives- or at least, they did

Everything was just becoming a bit much, and you found yourself spending most your day shut in

One evening, Stolas came home a tad earlier than expected

He knew you'd be home, and after a long day he wanted nothing more than to tell you about it and see your face again

He was very troubled when he heard crying coming from your shared room

Probably runs in, blowing the door open and dramatically lifting you up into his arms

" Oh my is everything alright my dear!? "

Like a mask had been switched, you hid your tears and stopped crying, shaking your head

Even if you try to tell him you were just a bit sad, he will not have it, it is extremely rare to see you crying, and knowing you'd been home alone all day he worried you hadn't taken care of yourself

He lets you back into the bed and hushes you, rubbing circles into your back and using his magic to bring the phone to him

" Blitzo, when will you be home? "

" Kind of in the middle of something, Stolas, can it wait? "

" I'm afraid not, you see, our partner- "

" I'll be there in 5. "

Literally there in less, his van is squealing into the driveway and you can hear him running through the halls, and when he enters he is on the phone, likely yelling at Moxie to take care of everything

Both are on you in moments, Blitzo is inspecting you for any injuries and Stolas is soothing you with scratches and comforting gestures

While Stolas will try to coax you into being more open with them, Blitzo is far more direct

Because, fuck! He's worried! And if you don't tell him what's wrong, how can he fix it? How can he make it all better?

As hard as it may be to get things out, they won't leave until they can figure something out for you

Author's Note - I always like s/o with Stolas and Blitz because I imagine reader can be sort fo a mother figure to both Octavia and Loona! Anyhow, thank you for requesting, and please enjoy 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #stolas #stolas x reader #blitzo #blitzo x reader

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ashwhowrites · 6 months

Note

Older! Eddie Munson x Neighbor! Reader (reader is an adult) she has a Halloween party, and Eddie didn't like that bc he couldn't sleep all night, so he goes to her house the next day and tells her that for the next time, if she please can be less loud with her parties (and I let you choose, like a bratty reader or not) but they end up having sex either as an apology to Eddie or because she's bratty (but reader has been dying to have an opportunity like this with Eddie bc she thinks he's cute) and maybe they end up having a relationship?

I love older! Eddie

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

⚠️smut

Keep it down

Y/N had a thing for her hot older neighbor. She found herself staring at him ever since she saw him wearing a tank top with loose sweatpants as he worked on his motorcycle. He was drenched in sweat, his hair tied up, and grease on his hands.

Since then, she tried to get his attention. He lived alone, and she assumed single since no same girl shown up twice.

She put on her sluttiest swimsuit, marching out to lay in her front yard. She sipped on her cold water as he cleaned his motorcycle, his back to her. She watched as the sweat ran down his back, hitting the material of his shirt that was tucked in his back pocket. His music blasted from his radio. She relaxed on her back, trying to push her chest towards his direction. But she huffed when he never turned around.

She even pretended to need ingredients. Wearing a small tank and tiny shorts, he walked to his door. She knocked softly, her arms behind her back and a sweet smile on her face. She bit her lip when he opened the door, his hair a mess and his naked chest on display. He wore nothing but a pair of boxers. She couldn't hide the way she checked him out. She asked for sugar and eggs, but her mood dropped when he turned to go into his kitchen and she could see the nail marks down his skin. She snatched the ingredients, rolling her eyes as she marched back to her house.

She smashed a pipe under her sink, letting the water soak her floor as she tried to get her white shirt wet until her bra was seen through. She quickly raced to Eddie's, pounding on his door and asking for help. She thought her plan was successful when he was under her sink fixing her pipe. A smirk on her face as she took in his hard body. Before she could offer a thank you, he wiped his hands and said he had a date. She rolled her eyes again, snapping out a thank you and fun date as she slammed the door behind him.

But now, it was Halloween and she was ready to dress in her sluttiest costume and fuck anyone she wanted. Eddie couldn't get her hints, forget him.

The music was loud, and people screaming just to talk over it. She could see Eddie was calling her phone over and over but she didn't pick up. Another mind game sent his way when she fucked a random guy against her window. She was bent over, facing Eddie's room as the guy fucked her from behind. A smirk on her face when Eddie watched through the window. She swore she could see the anger coming out of his ears. The pissed-off look as he closed his curtains.

Attention? She thinks so

~~~

She woke up to Eddie pounding at her door, she grabbed a blanket to wrap it around herself. Half awake as she opened the door.

"Um yes?" She asked

"Since you ignored my calls, I have to come say this to your face." Eddie snapped, "Keep the parties down. I don't want to be that annoying neighbor, but I've had my share of parties and there's no reason to be that loud."

Y/N giggled as he talked. She could tell he wasn't pleased with her. But she kinda hopes it was because of the guy.

"What's so fucking funny?" He snapped, his eyes glaring at her as she shook her head.

"Nothing, just the classic old neighbor can't handle the young neighbor. I'll try to keep the party down to protect your hearing." She mocked, going to close the door but he slammed his hand against it.

"Was there something else?" She asked, her head turned. She enjoyed the way Eddie growled.

"Yeah, where's your respect? I know you are a young little brat, but I thought respect was still taught in schools. Keep the music down out of respect. Wear real fucking clothes around the neighborhood out of respect. And close your curtains when you have a sad excuse for a dick in you out of respect for yourself!" He barked at her, but she couldn't help but feel the wetness between her thighs.

"Mr. Kuff loves my clothes, and he always tells me so. Oh and Mr. Lase, and even Mrs. Liz. I think the only one who doesn't like it is you. And for last night, it didn't feel like a sad excuse for a dick when it made me cum." She snapped, slamming her door. A proud smile on her face. She finally had Eddie where she wanted him.

She smirked as he pounded on her door again, "Ye-" she couldn't finish her sentence, the second she opened the door, he grabbed her neck. He closed the door with his foot, slamming her against the wall.

"Oh, baby. You have no idea what a good dick feels like. Of course, those old men like looking at your slutty clothes. They sit there and think of you when they suck their wives. They are pathetic and the fact you like their little attention is just as pathetic. But it's not their attention you've been fighting for, is it?" He asked, turning his head to the side as he clicked his tongue. His tone was mocking, he knew his answer.

She didn't want to give him the satisfaction, even though she knew that he knew.

"Cat got your tongue? See, I'm not stupid. I know you walk around the neighborhood, praying I see your ass coming out of your shorts. That I see your tits in that tiny swimsuit. The jealousy in your eyes when I bring girls home. You want it to be you, huh? You just want to be bent over and fucked raw. So tired of the boys who don't know how to fuck you like the slut you are." Eddie squeezed her neck as he reached for the blanket. The blanket dropped to the floor, his eyes taking in her naked body.

"Eddie, please." She whined, her hands yanking at the end of his shirt.

"Please what?" He teased

"Touch me." She whimpered.

"YES, FUCK" Y/N screamed. She bent over her kitchen counter, Eddie pounding into her from behind. She's been clawing at his thighs for hours.

"PLEASE LET ME CUM THIS TIME!" she begged, his fingers rubbing her clit.

"Oh but why? You've done so well the past four edges, why not one more?" He teased, pounding into her. His fingers left marks on her hips.

"See what a real dick feels like now, baby? Think any of those desperate house dads could fuck you like this?" Eddie growled into her ear, she moaned at his words. Feeling herself clench around him. She prayed and prayed he'd let her cum.

"No, they can't." She moaned, she didn't care about those losers. All she wanted was Eddie.

"Do you know how many girls I fucked thinking of you? Had my eye the second I moved in. Just loved your little games so much." He admitted, he pushed her hair to the side as he sucked on her neck. His fingers still rubbing her clit, his cock fucking into her, and his mouth on her neck had her cumming on his cock.

~~~

"Oh, Mr. Boyfriend!" Y/N chanted as he knocked on Eddie's door.

She smiled when Eddie opened the door, wrapping his arm around her and smashing his lips on hers.

She moaned against his mouth, tasting his tongue.

He pulled away with a smirk, following her outside.

"I told you I couldn't eat for another hour, I need to finish the bike." Eddie said, returning to his work on the motorcycle, holding his bucket of cleaner.

"Yeah but I'd love to sit and watch." She said, sitting on the grass.

And just like that, she was watching him clean his bike all over again. But this time he looked back to blow her a kiss

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff #ashwhowrites #older eddie munson x reader #neighbor! Eddie x reader

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kakujis · 1 year

Text

do you love me? 2;

synposis: they wake you up at 3am to ask if you love them. pt 1 here. 3 + 4

warnings: gn!reader, clingy bfs, no set timeline, kazutora's is a lil sad, insecurities, implications of cheating(there is none tho). not proofread!

feat: kakucho, kazutora, izana.

a/n: after i wrote the first part, i wanted to do the same thing but switched! this is the most flowery, fluttery, butterflies searching for a drink type beat drabble i've ever written. i haven't written like this in a while soo i hope it makes sense lol. the tone of kaku's is a lil different because i started his first oops! also big ty to @fuyuluvr for helping me finish izana's bit. ♡

kakucho had never once doubted you, not when you’ve told him he’s the sun and the moon and the reason why the stars gather in the night sky, cheesy words always getting a hot blush on his face. how could he, when you’ve barreled through the doors of your shared apartment to jump into his waiting arms, peppering kisses along his jaw, whines of “i missed you! i missed you!”.

but it’s hard lately when he finds you and rindou with hushed voices at the gym, sitting on a bench, sheepish grins on your faces when he approaches to ask what the two of you have been talking about.

“nothing!” you exclaimed, slipping your phone back into your pocket, scooting farther from the blonde beside you. “i’m gonna head out okay? i’ll see you later.” you exchanged one more glance with rin who nodded to you. kakucho remembers the surprised look on your face, when he pulled you into a particularly tight hug pressing his lips to your forehead, “see you at home,” you said, eyes softened before breaking free and walking out.

he tried his best to not pry throughout his workout, tried his best to not get angry when rindou asked, “you alright?” when he noticed the particularly quick responses that kakucho was throwing at him.

“yeah, i’m fine.” he assured, fighting the urge to accuse his friend of anything nefarious. but man was it hard with this little nail in his heart hammering away at his insecurities and worst fears. maybe it was time to take izana’s advice and “just ask them about it.”

and that’s how he ended up here, sitting awake at 3am listening to the tick of a clock. even in your sleep you clung on to him, drooling and snoring on his arm.

gently, he reaches over to shake your shoulder. the shift made you cling harder, eliciting a whine from your sleepy state. kakucho chuckles, before he shakes a little bit harder, already feeling a little silly at his concerns.

“you awake yet?” he asks when you finally start to blink your eyes and glance up at him.

“hi,” you yawn, using your hand to wipe at your drool, “what time is it?” you prop yourself up, squinting at the clock on the wall.

“like 3am.” he says, unable to hold back the smile on his face as he studies your sleepy expression.

“hmm? why are we awake then?” you yawn again, droopy lids starting to fall again, but kakucho stops you before you’re able to fall asleep.

“wait,” he mutters, pulling you up so that you’re pressed against his chest and facing him. he places his hands on the sides of your cheeks, staring straight into your drowsy eyes. “do you love me?”

the question catches you off guard, you’ve never seen him so serious before. there’s a crease in his brow and his heterochromatic eyes hold something like worry, something that’s scared, as if you’d say no.

you blink off the sleep that once riddled your bones before scowling, “kaku.. what kinda question is that? of course i love you.” you assert, squirming until you’re straddling him. you place your hands on top of his own, prying one down to lace with your fingers. “why?”

he looks away, burning under your gaze, “it’s nothin’,” he mumbles, dropping his other hand from your face. but since you’re fully awake now, the haze of sleep gone, you catch on fast, the wheels in your head rewinding back to earlier that day at the gym.

“ohh,” you hum, removing your hand from his and cupping his face this time so that he’ll look at you. “is this because of earlier? with rindou?”

“maybe..” he says, eyes darting away from yours, “it’s just weird you don’t want me to hear what you two are talking about and it’s also not the first time so...”

you sigh, climbing off of him and reaching over to the nightstand on your side of the bed to grab your phone. settling back next to him, you unlock the screen and click on your messages. you wiggle your phone at him adding, “i’ve got nothing to hide, see?” before you open the texts with rindou:

y/n: HEY

rindou 🙄: hi

y/n: IS PROJECT KAKUCHO STILL A GO??

rindou 🙄: project kakucho???

y/n: dont tell me u forgot… his birthday is coming up!!!

the conversation continues with the plans the two of you had made specifically for kakucho’s birthday, the venue, the people invited, what kind of cake you should get, etc. you scroll slowly, periodically glancing up at your boyfriend as the blush on his face deepens. probably from a mixture of embarrassment and the way every mention of his name has some type of adjective describing how cute he is.

“see? i wanted to surprise you.” you say, beginning to hand the phone over, “you can scroll up even earlier if you want.”

“no, i trust you…” he says before taking your phone and putting it down on the nightstand. “sorry, that was sort of stupid of me.” honestly, he had completely forgotten about the occasion, it was just another day for him.

you shake your head, “well.. i can’t blame you. if i’m thinking about it from your perspective, i’d probably be a little suspicious too.”

he blinks, caught off guard by the way you agreed without a hint of sarcasm. “really?”

you nod, “yup… especially if i didn’t trust my partner, cmon now! rindou?” you tease and he groans out another “sorry.”

“couldn’t you have thought i had a crush on one of your cute friends?” you scoff, crossing your arms.

“rindou is cute though.” he says quickly and matter of fact, not really processing what he’s just said.

“huh?”

“he’s… y’know, he’s good looking.” he repeats, gesturing with his hands and glancing down at you. your face is unreadable as you take in the information, those little gears in your head turning again.

“hm. well, if he’s so good looking then you should totally date him.” you joke, trying your best to keep a straight face.

“that’s not what i meant!” kakucho exclaims, running his hands down his face and you laugh.

“gimme my phone, i’ll set you up.♡” you chime, holding your hand out. “besides i think he’s into you too! totally checks you out at the gym.”

“can you stop?!”

kazutora:

kazutora has an annoying little habit, where he doubts if you really love him, which culminates in late night questioning. you’ve assured him many times before that you don’t mind, you’ll tell him as many times as he wants and you’ll reassure him whenever he’s doubtful, but he hates it. this little worm of insecurity that digs its way through his stomach, his chest, until it makes it up into his brain, shaking and bouncing off it’s walls until he can’t take it anymore.

he hates this feeling, more so because he knows it’s stupid, he knows there’s no reason for it, there’s never been any indication for it and yet, he still cries or lashes out because of it. like maybe he's not that good of a person, maybe he's not what you need, and maybe he'll never be enough. what better time for insecurity to sink it’s fangs in than the dead of night?

he rolls over, cheek squished against the pillow. reaching over to quickly pull you closer to him, back against his chest. you shift a little, rousing out of sleep, tilting your head up towards his with a little curl of a smile. it’s so easy to read him now and pick up on his mood changes, but you think nothing negative, instead feeling warm that sometimes he’s so vulnerable with you, searching for his security like a child looking for their favorite blanket.

“hi tora,” you mumble, voice heavily laced with sleep, “what’s wrong baby?” he doesn’t answer at first, the only response to you being an even tighter squeeze under his muscled arms. you respond back, wriggling under his touch, pressing so far into him it’s as if the two of you are trying to mold together and become one.

“do you love me?” he asks, voice barely louder than a whisper.

“i’ve never loved anything more,” you proclaim and kazutora gives a little needy whine while his hands start to wander up the expanse of your skin and you giggle as his touch tickles you under the sheets.

“you’d pick me every time?” he asks, the heaviness in his heart lightening with each breathy giggle of “that tickles!” but it’s his way of comforting himself, whether it’s running his hands over your bare skin or inserting them into your jacket pockets while he holds you from behind, kazutora finds solace in the warmth of your body.

“mhm! every time, without a doubt! now stop!” you say in between laughs, desperately trying to push his hands off of you but he’s stronger, hands curling into the plush fat of your side and you yelp. “toraa!”

“hmm?” he teases, continuing his relentless assault. but the way you’re kicking and squirming has his hold on you weakening. you’re unable to fully control your movement, thrashing as your elbow flies back, hitting him right in the stomach. “ow, fuck!” he groans, releasing you and rolling over. he grimaces as he places a hand where you hit him, curling inwardly on himself.

out of breath, you roll onto your knees, sitting up while you scoot closer to him. one hand rests on your side, aching from your previous uncontrollable laughter.

“not my fault.” you pant when he glances up at you with puppy dog eyes. “i told you to stop.” you roll your eyes at him, but the pout gracing his face persists and you give in. you bend over, brushing away stray blonde locks from his face before you bend down and give him a kiss. “sorry.”

“s’okay,” he grins, eyes crinkling as he pulls you back down into his embrace. there’s a few minutes of silence, the only noise being the occasional swivel of fabric underneath your feet as readjust every so often. “you really meant it, right?” he asks, breaking through the silence, that pesky little worm still rearing it’s ugly head in his thoughts.

“every word.” you reply, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. you place a finger on his lips as you continue, hoping to dispel the rest of his worries. “in any dimension, in any lifetime. if i could live a thousand lives, i’d pick you every time.”

he blinks before he’s pushing your head down to rest on his chest. there’s no vocal response, instead only the tremble of his body as his grip on you turns crushing, one hand’s fingers intertwined with the tresses of your hair. you realize now that it was due to his embarrassment, a silent plea to just this once, not look at him as his relief spills out as fat, droplet tears that run down his face and onto yours. but it’s okay, you’ve always embraced the rain.

izana:

izana thinks its insane every time you pull at the that strings that hold together his weary heart. but you pluck at them with each call of his name that rolls off your tongue like a siren call, entrancing and pulling him towards you and only you. with those vibrations he seeks you like a moth to a flame, fluttering towards your light and basking in the glow.

heavy and sluggish, he trudges up the stairs to your shared apartment inwardly cursing about how late it is. the plan is to take a shower and get in bed as quietly and quickly as possible. you’re definitely asleep by now, so he tries his best to enter silently, not wanting to wake you. but as he tiptoes into your bedroom, the sight of you asleep huddled under the covers as you hug izana’s pillow has him falling onto the bed, gently taking the pillow from your arms and replacing it with himself.

you scrunch your face as you awaken, heavy lidded eyes blinking and adjusting to the blurry image of izana before you. pretty lavender eyes watch you with a small upturned grin that grows wider at your, “mm?” the chirrup of your voice like the birdsongs in the morning. izana thinks you’re the prettiest melody, better than any song on the radio or classical composition.

“good morning.” he says and you tilt your head quizzically, squinting at the alarm clock on your nightstand, the lull of sleep still beckoning you over.

“it’s 3am, zana,” you whine when you read the red blink of numbers, trying to roll over but he holds you still, arms wrapped around your hips.

he shrugs, a smirk on his face. “and?”

“and i was sleeping.” you mumble, irritation lacing through your voice before frowning and closing your eyes.

the quirk of his grin falls, settling into a line, he’d be lying if he said it didn’t hurt. he knows he came home late and he knows it’s probably annoying to be woken up, yet he was hoping you’d still be excited to see him, to be with him.

“do you love me?” he asks, knowing it’s a dumb question. your reaction is normal, but being around you makes him feel abnormal, and he’s so greedy for everything you’ve got. he thinks you’ll reprimand him again for keeping you awake, but instead you hum when he starts to caress your face, the pad of his thumb running over your skin in airy strokes.

“mhm. i love, love you.” you reply, happily keening up into his touch, pressing your cheek further into his hand.

“say it again,” he says and you open one eye, quirking an eyebrow. you almost say, “really?” but the insecurity dancing in his eyes stops you and you comply.

“i love you.” you say again, a little louder this time.

“again.” he commands.

“izana..” you huff. you know him, this could go on for hours if you gave in.

“just one more time, please?” he pleads hanging onto his last word. he’s never told you, but this is his favorite song, the kind that always gets stuck on replay in his head. the one that he puts on to comfort him when the outside noise of daily life is a little too loud.

“i love you.” you sigh, conceding and punctuating it with a quick peck on his lips and he grins. “happy now?”

he nods, “i’ll never get tired of hearing that.” he presses a kiss to your cheek, letting you settle back into a more comfortable position. you lay with your back to his chest, as he cages you from behind. “now get some sleep, its late.”

you’re quick to look back at him, eye brow raised in disbelief. “you’re literally the one who woke me up?”

“shh, that doesn’t matter, just go to sleep.”

“but-“

“good night, love.” he interrupts, thinking that he should record it the next time you sing him such a pretty number.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers x reader #kakucho #kakucho x reader #kazutora hanemiya #kazutora hanemiya x reader #izana kurokawa #izana kurokawa x reader #pibby writing #this was totally not self indulgent (it was)

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idyllcy · 8 months

Text

baby, you can find me under the lights

word count: 9.1k

warnings: slow burn, mentions of drugs

summary: Ah, it feels good to be loved.

Hard. This is. Hard.

Jaime stumbles over his words as Khaji Da warns him for his spike in heartbeat, his head spinning as you stare up at him, blinking owlishly. You look pretty. Seriously, you look gorgeous. He's stumbling over his words just to ask you where his building was. It wasn't even as if he was asking for your number! Seriously, do people like you even exist—

You tilt your head at him, blinking.

asking you to repeat yourself.

nevermind. you do.

"Ah, uh, dios mio—" He pauses. "do you know where the school of biology is? It's my first day here, and—"

You point at the building on the other side, and Jaime sighs. "Oh my god. I'm stupid, so sorry—"

You wave your hand dismissively, smile on your face.

smile holds no menace. seeming to say 'me too'

"Thank you, but really—"

You raise a brow at him.

"Not you. Well, thank you, yes, but not the latter part." He sighs. "I've had a long morning."

You wave bye to him as you rush off into the building.

"Is she mute?"

no signs of vocal cord damage

"So she just." Jaime glances down at his watch, cursing as he realizes he's about to be late to class. "I'll ignore it. Put a tab on her."

got it. unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream.

"Ignore it." Jaime mumbles. "I just think she's cute."

In retrospect, Jaime has no idea why he would need to keep a tab on you, but he finds it especially helpful when he's met face to face with who the scarab calls you, except it's not really you, it's some person with flamboyant makeup drawn over their face, and Khaji Da insists it's you. All Jaime can notice is how you're a metahuman, a voice as honeyed as a siren's. He shakes his head to try and break free of your voice.

"What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?" You tilt your head at him, setting him down as you soar back to the supervillain. His jaw stays open before he closes it, realizing the situation.

"Khaji."

a metahuman

"Well, I can't have her fight alone, can I?" Jaime sighs as his armor clasps on, flying next to you, lending you a hand as he blocks a punch. "Having trouble?"

"Appreciate the help." You smile, landing a kick to the villain's face, stepping on it as you send him into the ground. The back of your heel causes a crack to ring and the man's face to cave in, and Jaime stares, eyes wide as Khaji Da tells him that the man's alive and has a high chance of survival. "Are you visiting? Does my city owe a member of the Justice League something?"

"No," Jaime shakes his head. "I... I live here now. I just moved."

"You... alright." You mumble. "For all I know, you could be moving here for retirement."

"Hey, I am not that old." Jaime gasps. "I'm—"

Khaji Da stops him before he can reveal his age. A smarter choice. Jaime really needs to fix his blurting problem.

You raise a brow at him, leaning closer, tilting your head. "You're...?"

"Uh, top secret information." He smiles, trying his best to focus on your face and not the way you were practically sticking on him. It was bad enough that he thought you were cute. He did not need another reason for being head over heels in love with you. Seriously, he's not the type for love at first sight, what kind of witchery do you have?!

You huff, leaning back. "Alright. You do you."

"Are there many villains here?"

"Not really. Just pigface here." You point at the man under you. "Though, you'll probably bring in your fair share of supervillains, huh?"

"I don't have that many."

"Still have some." You hum. "Alright. See you around, beetle boy. I wouldn't recommend sticking around. The police kinda hate us."

Jaime looks at the unconscious man as you fly. "Wait, do we—"

The police arrive as he's cut off, and he races off himself. He did not want a bullet shot at him, but he also did not want to deal with the police so early on in a new city. That could be saved for some time that wasn't right now.

Besides, he has his bio seminar to get to. Seriously, what is with him and arriving late to class?

Turns out, Jaime bumps into you much more than he thinks is coincidental.

First, the two of you bump into each other at the cafeteria, then the two of you meet at the library, then at the gym, and then you share a building at the dorms? Seriously, what is with the two of you and meeting? At this point he might as well call one of you a stalker, and it is most certainly not him. He doesn't think it's you either, especially with how unnerved you are while bumping into him. All you do is wave hello with a small smile and head the other way. Seriously, he was looking creepy. You were cute, he did NOT want to be scaring you off before he could even befriend you. Besides, it's not like his body is— it's... Khaji Da, isn't it.

"¿hermano, la estás acosando?" Jaime mumbles to the scarab. boy, are you stalking her?

I don't know what you're talking about

"'kay, can we cut it down? Seriously, I'd like to not see her every day."

I thought you liked her.

"Thinking someone is cute does not equate to liking them." He groans, swiping his student ID to get his lunch.

I am simply creating more opportunities for the two of you to meet

"Can you not control my body for something like this?" He takes his salad, running a hand through his hair as he crashes into someone. "Oh, I am sosorry—"

You blink up at him, shaking your head.

she says it's fine

"Are you sure? Let me know if I can do anything to make it up to you, really." Jaime nods.

You wave your hand, dismissing him as you head upstairs to find an empty table.

increased heart rate detected

"Oh, dios, please be quiet." Jaime rushes out of the cafeteria, embarrassment all over his face, cheeks flushed with blood.

As he reaches his dorm, he hears the sound of something going off almost comically, and he freezes. Didn't you mention that there weren't many supervillains other than the guy that was arrested recently? Come on.

The cafeteria you were just at. No signs of human damage. The girl is fighting.

Jaime sets his salad down, opening the window, and jumping out, his suit sending him straight to the cafeteria, blasting a piece of wood out of the way as your hand finds itself around the man's throat as Jaime sets down next to you.

"I thought you said there weren't many supervillains here?" Jaime's arm shifts into a taser as he presses it to the man, knocking him out.

"But plenty of frustrated college students." You smile at him. "this one tried bombing the building."

Jaime blinks.

heartbeat steady. Not lying.

"What's your name, by the way?"

"Wouldn't you like to know, beetle boy." You roll your eyes.

"Do you not have a name?"

You tilt your head at him. "And if I do?"

"Why won't you tell me?"

"Who knows. Maybe you'll commit identity fraud." You smile, tapping his chest twice. "Though, you seem a little too tall to steal my identity."

"I won't, so could I please know the name of the partner I'll be working with to fight crime?" Jaime holds his hand out for you, leaning down slightly to stare at you.

"Kinda hard to tell sincerity through those gorgeous yellow eyes of yours, beetle." You give him your hand anyway, shaking it. "Unidentified. Though, the police like calling me Euterpe."

"Like the greek muse?"

"Yeah. In charge of music and stuff." You shrug. "You're just blue beetle because of the suit, huh?"

"Yeah." He pauses. "Are the police coming?"

"They always are." You hum. "Two minutes, maybe."

"How do they know when you don't call?"

"I don't need to." You tilt your head slightly. You point at the students outside the building that Jaime had passed. "They do."

"Are you the school mascot or something?"

"Time's up." You smile. "Alright beetle boy, time to get going."

You speed off into the air as Jaime chases after you. "You didn't answer my question!"

"You have a lot of questions for someone who's just arrived." You come to an abrupt stop as Jaime freezes into place.

"Seriously, how has the Justice League not cataloged you? They sent me a list of everyone in the city and—"

"God, B's just as crazy as I remember him being." You grimace. "I'm not on the catalog— too secretive for his liking. B would really rather not catalog me."

"Why's that."

You pause. "I have a handful of mutant genes instead of just one. Weird superpowers come with all of them. If you really want my file, go find Red Robin at the Titans' tower. He ran a whole sampling of my DNA and everything. The Titans Archive has my file."

"Why doesn't Batman have it?"

"Mm..." You pause. "No time?"

"That man is retired. You have to have a better explanation than just that."

"Can we take it to the dorms? I'm at the point where I think you know who I am anyway." You sigh. "You keep bumping into me on a campus this big. You're practically stalking me."

"I'm not—"

"You're going to have to prove that to me. I see you everywhere." You sigh. "I have a single complex, come on."

"Did you win the lottery?"

"You can do a lot with a voice like mine." You drop onto the roof, suit coming off as you do.

"How'd you get that off?"

"Illusion magic."

"Seriously, you're practically a green lantern." He grimaces. "Or a magician."

"Your suit just came off too, you know?" You raise a brow, swiping your ID. "Does the beetle do that? Can I see the beetle?"

"Next thing I know you'll be asking me to strip for you." Jaime jokes.

"Oh, well, not that I'd be against that, but—" You shut up when you pass a student.

"At least you have a filter." He mumbles.

"How old are you anyway? I was going to ask if you were a fourth year, but from the way you don't know where the bio building is, there's no way you are." You glance at the signs.

"First year."

"Oh, so like, fresh out of high school?"

"No, I took a gap year." he hums. "Now I'm trying to finish college and get into dental school."

"Oooh, big dreams." You mumble. "I'll let you practice on me when you're in dental school."

"It isn't cosmetology, you know?"

"Eh." You shrug. Your keys materialize in your hand as you unlock the door to your dorm. "The fake teeth can only last you for so long. Welcome to my dorm."

"What kind of luck do you have?"

"I told you. My voice." You smile. "Would you like to see it in action? Have the scarab read my lips for you. You'll need earplugs. What's your Starbucks order?"

"A cappuccino. Wh-what are you doing?" Jaime chases after you as you step out of your apartment again, knocking on the door across the hall. You toss him earplugs with a wink, knocking on your neighbor's door. Jaime puts them in as he watches you.

"What?" A guy opens the door, visibly annoyed.

Your lips part, sickly sweet words spilling down your tongue, and Khaji Da speaks.

"could you get me a grande cappuccino and sweetened peach green tea from the Starbucks downstairs? Set it by my door and knock when you finish, please?" You bat your lashes at him twice, and the guy blinks back.

Jaime watches in shock as something glazes over the guy's eyes and he nods at you, heading inside and coming out with his phone in hand, locking his door as he heads down the hall.

"That's one of my abilities." You smile. You reach for the plugs in his ears, and he flinches back slightly, pulling them out himself. "Sorry. Am I too much?"

"It's really hard to have a normal heartbeat around someone like you."

"Honored you would think of me as hot." You smile. "Do you want anything to eat? I cook."

"You got tamales?"

"Oh, I do! I just dropped by one of the cultural clubs' president's house, and she came back with a bag of them. I just don't know how to cook them. Care to help?" You rummage through your freezer, brows furrowed. "Here. Yeah?"

Jaime holds his hand out for you to hand it to him, and he hums. "You got a steamer?"

"Top cabinet on the left of the stove." You hum.

"Do they make you pay utilities here?"

"No." You hum. "Which is why I keep the lights and AC on the entire day. I only turn off the lights in my room when I sleep."

"How much... is it a year?"

You visibly freeze, closing the fridge. "I'd rather not discuss that."

"A lot?"

"I don't look at the bill when I send all of it as fake invoices to Wayne Enterprises." You laugh awkwardly, pulling the steamer out.

warning: rapid heart rate increase.

"Yes, Khaji, I know." He mumbles through his teeth.

"Hm?"

"No, not you." He smiles. "How do I put this? I have a scarab in my back."

"Oh, I know." You smile. "It's pretty... visible when you're at the gym. there's like a huge bump on your back."

"You look at me at the gym?!"

"Hard not to when your back muscles look like that. You got a routine I can follow?" You wiggle your brows jokingly.

"Um, lifting seven hundred pounds worth of metal when a skyscraper falls over."

"Oh, I don't need to do that." You shrug. "I just tell the metal to get out of the way."

"Your voice works on more than just humans?"

You puff your cheeks, looking to the side. "Yes?"

"Do you have like, some cosmic control over the universe or something?"

"I could pull a my little pony princess celestia and tell the sun to go down right now." You bat your lashes innocently.

Jaime blinks owlishly, fear in the back of his mind, confusion on his face. You can what. What in the Mary Sue self insert is that voice of yours? It was like God himself made you extra special, even down to the genetics. A metahuman could have powers that strong? Though, how did you even discover that you could make the sun set? Something else snaps at the thought of your voice being so powerful. Can you command... food to cook?

"Couldn't you just cook the tamales with your voice?"

"I've never really tried that." You pause. "I don't know what works and doesn't work, I just know that I can make the sun set and moon rise."

"YOU'VE TRIED!?"

You ignore him, pulling out a tamale. "Cook, please?"

You toss it in the air as it gets hot instantly, and before Jaime can react, Khaji Da is sending his body to grab a plate and catch the tamale. You blink as Jaime catches it (just barely) and the two of you exhale in relief as Jaime sets the plate down. You blink at the bag and then at the piping hot tamale on the plate, jaw-dropping.

"I never have to cook ever again." You mumble. "Oh my god... this is a revelation. This is so much easier than I ever thought it'd be."

"Though, it might be better to cook it on a plate next time." Jaime mumbles, setting the plate down.

burn detected on left hand.

Jaime grabs your wrist, unfolding your hand as he stares at the wound. "It's hurt."

"Oh, I can just—"

"Do you want me to wrap it for you?" Jaime stares at you, eyes gentle, and your heart soars. Holy fuck he's cute. Yeah, screw the voice thing, he's wrapping it up for you. You're gonna take advantage of this. God, you're going to combust. Holy shit, was someone allowed to look this cute? You need to go outside and touch grass, holy shit.

"Y-yeah! Sure!" You blink, eyes wide. "Please. Thank you. I'll uh, give me a second." You stare at the cabinet. "Open, please."

The cabinet door opens.

"First aid kit, land on the counter, please?"

The kit lands, and you call to close the cabinet as there's a knock on the door. Jaime lets go of your hand, turning to go to the door.

"I'll get i—" You place a hand on Jaime's shoulder, shaking your head.

"Stay, please."

Jaime finds himself stuck in place as you open the door, a smile on your face as you take the drinks.

"Do you need anything else?" It's the same guy as before.

"Nope." You smile. "Thank you."

Jaime watches as the man's eyes return to normal, a confused look on his face as he raises a brow at you.

"Should, I, uh, pay you back for the drinks? How much was it?" You blink prettily at him, and Jaime's heart stops when the guy waves you off.

heart rate quickened. indicated attraction to her.

Holy fuck, were you using pretty privilege on your flatmate?

He leaves eventually, and you place the drinks on the counter. "A hot cappuccino during summer?"

"There's AC in your dorm." Jaime mumbles. "Did you use pretty privilege on him?"

"Oh, silly boy." You laugh. "Everyone thinks I'm the most attractive person ever."

"How?" Jaime tries moving, realizing you had put him in place. "Can I be freed?"

"Thank you for staying still." You smile.

"You don't want a tamale?" He opens the first-aid kit, pulling out the bandages and gauze.

"After I burned myself? I'd rather not." You wince as Jaime disinfects the burn.

"How'd you manage to burn yourself?"

"Erm... not sure!" You hum. "but I cooked the tamale."

"Let's cook it the normal way next time." Jaime mumbles. "You want me to cook anything?"

"Can you cook?"

"Yes, most definitely." Jaime wraps your wound gently, brows pulled into a worried frown. "worked at my tía's diner over summer during my gap year."

"Wow, sounds fun." You hum.

"You ever worked?"

"No." You mumble. "My work is my superhero business. I have a gofundme to help. You'd be surprised at how long of a way a little fanservice goes. Can you just boil me some soft eggs?"

"Runny yolk?"

"Semi." You hum. "I have a sauce in the fridge to marinate the eggs in. Thank you."

"Do you enjoy cooking? You have every single sauce and spice I can imagine." Jaime rummages through your cabinet. "Also, what did you mean earlier by everyone thinks you're the most attractive person ever?"

"Beauty is subjective— yeah, I like cooking— so if I tell myself that I want to be the prettiest person in the world, then everyone sees me slightly differently. It's a little manipulative, but it gets the job done." You mumble.

"What about the creeps?"

"I can fight." You hum.

"Is there a reason you need to come off as that way?"

"Only when I'm in suit." You hum. "I look perfectly plain when I'm out of the superhero face."

"And what's this fanservice of yours?"

You smile, your cheeks pulling up but your eyes unchanged. "My onlyfans is linked on my twitter."

Jaime chokes as he turns off the sink, neck-snapping to look at you. "W-what?"

"That was a joke." You hum. "It's just a gofundme. I'm... I'm close with a good number of fans. It's like Superman, you catch my drift?"

"He does have a good relationship with the citizens of Metropolis."

"Yeah, and Batman's hated by all." You snort. "That's a joke. Gotham would kill for that man."

"They would?"

"Ask a Gothamite what they think about Batman and you get an annoyed grunt, but lasso them with the lasso of truth, and they'll admit that they're actually grateful for the man." You lean on the palm of your head. "Thank you for making me the most attractive person ever."

Nothing changes for Jaime as he blinks at you. He blinks a couple more times at you, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him, but you look the exact same. The realization causes a smile to break onto his face slowly, eyes warm and affectionate as he looks at you. You're already pretty to him. How beautiful.

"So? You like how I look?"

"You look the same." Jaime hums, jumping when the water nearly boils over, opening the cap as he places the eggs in. "shit."

You laugh, chest flushed with warmth, shy smile on your lips. Your chest feels overwhelmingly full, like a piece of it that had been lost was returned to you, making you whole again. God, he can't just say that to you and expect you to not fall for him. You grimace inwardly. Falling at the slight sign of affection. How classic of you. Though, your chest is warm, and that was always a good feeling to have. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." He blinks at you.

increasing heart rate—

"Please, not now." He hisses.

"Does the beetle speak?"

"To me." Jaime mumbles. "He's like a voice in my head."

"Could I suggest putting an earbud in to pretend you're on the phone so you don't look insane?"

Jaime pauses. "Huh. I've never considered that."

"Yeah." You mumble. "It gets people off your ass."

"How come you don't speak when you're walking around?" He raises a brow. "I thought you were mute until the scarab identified you as the hero."

You shrug. "It's easier."

"Easier for what?"

You shrug. "People don't talk to you much when you don't speak."

"Do you want me to peel the eggs for you?" Jaime lifts the pot into the sink.

"Oh, no, it's fine. Thank you." You hum, getting out of the seat. You wave him off as you pour the water out, focusing on the eggs. "Peel the shell off cleanly, please."

The eggshells detach perfectly, and you open your fridge, pulling out the sauce.

"Are you in any clubs?"

"Acapella Choir and Writer's United." You mumble. "I also hang out with the kids in musical theater."

"I forgot that was a major here."

"We're a surprisingly art-oriented school for one with such a good stem program." You seal the container again, putting it in the fridge. "Clean yourselves, please."

The dishes turn clean with a swirl, and you place them in the dish machine to dry.

"What's the magic word?" Jaime raises a brow.

You smile. "Can't say it."

"Why not?"

"Then it'll come true." You hum. "I think you've listened enough times for it."

"How come you don't fight crime with it?" He hums. "Your voice would do wonders."

You hum. "It wears my voice out."

"Do you speak to your professors?"

"Yeah?" You raise a brow.

"But you don't speak to students?"

"I speak when necessary." You shrug.

"So telling me where the bio building wasn't necessary?"

"No." You sigh. "Of course not. Oh, right. I never learned your civilian name. I can't just keep calling you beetle boy."

"Jaime. Jaime Reyes." He holds his hand out for you, and you take it, your own name spilling past your lips.

Jaime finds that you're not as much of a red flag as you came off as. You bump into him every now and then, nodding as you do, and then you rush off for your classes. Jaime only ever gets to speak to you while on duty, wrestling the criminals to the ground as you knock them out. He doesn't get to speak to you very much— the police have gotten much faster with arriving at the scene of the crime. Usually, by the time he's chased after you, you've already detransformed and gone to class. Seriously, your schedule is appalling. How many units are you even taking?

"Alright, I know you're in there. Come on, open up." Jaime knocks on your door for the nth time, and you finally, finally open it, sighing at him.

"What do you want?"

"To hang out? Seriously, I haven't made any friends since coming here other than you, and that's only because you and I fight crime together!"

"That does not sound like a me problem." You deadpan.

"I brought tea."

"Oh, why didn't you start with that?" You open the door fully, letting Jaime in. "I'll let you chill for a bit, but I have somewhere to go in a little."

"Where? It's 7pm on a Tuesday." He sets the tea on the counter, raising a brow.

"Frat party starts at 8 but you're technically supposed to get there starting 9. No one ever goes on time." You hum. "Did you want to stay the night?"

"No. That'd be a little..." He pauses. "Mami raised a man better than that."

You bark out a laugh. "That's sweet. Thank your mom for that, please. Not many women end up with such sweethearts of children."

"Are you calling me a sweetheart?" Jaime grins.

"Mm, sure." You hum. "Much better than half of the men on campus, that's for sure."

"Why are you going to a frat party?"

"For the vibes." You hum. "I also got news that something was going to happen there, so you gotta be prepared, you know? It's halfway across campus."

"Should I go?"

"If you want." You hum. "Give me a sec, I'll move everything to the island."

"Do you need help?" He cranes his neck as you disappear into the corridor.

"I'll be fine." You call.

Jaime watches as you move a bag and mirror onto the table, and he watches in silence as you start your makeup.

spike of dopamine in bloodstream. hermano, do something. ask her out.

"No!" Jaime hisses. "she's going to think it's creepy!"

"What's creepy?" You raise a brow at him, amusement on your lips.

"Nothing! Khaji is speaking." Jaime avoids your eyes.

"Is that the beetle's name?" You go back to the makeup.

"Yes."

You hum back, finishing with your makeup, pausing.

"Couldn't you have the magic do it?"

"Yeah, but," You sigh. "it only knows how to do my hero look."

"It's taught?"

"I can make it copy images on a screen, but I dont have that many products to work off of." You hum. "You want me to do your makeup?"

"I'm good." Jaime mumbles. "Is a frat party even safe?"

"Depends on the person. Is it icky? Yes. Is it fun to feel individualization in a crowd of strangers? Also yes." You hum.

"Don't you get hit on if you..." He pauses. "no. you're not in costume."

"I sure am going to get hit on if I transform, though." You hum. "It's happened before. They like spiking poison or toxins in frat party drinks. Can Khaji Da scan water for toxins?"

yes.

"He said yes." Jaime mumbles.

"Then go with me?" You smile at him awkwardly. "Please? Maybe you'll make friends there too. Hm? Didn't you come in complaining about how you didn't know anyone here?"

Jaime sighs. "I'm not drinking, though."

"Oh, yeah. Your boundaries still matter, obviously." You pause. "Don't Mexican families throw huge parties and drink there?"

"Sorry, let me rephrase that. I'm not drinking frat house beverages." Jaime corrects himself. "Someone's saliva could be in it for all I know."

"'kay, yeah, that makes sense." You mumble. "Are you just going to go in that?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mm." You think for a moment, staring at Jaime. "You know what. Yeah. The shirt's fine. Unbutton two buttons and you'll be fine."

"Huh?"

"Do you need me to do it?" You raise a brow. "They won't let you in if you look too formal, but they also won't let you in if you look too casual. Well, that's a lie. They'd let you in if you were in a tank top, but since you can't... at least try and look like a frat boy."

"I'm hurt." Jaime scoffs as you step close to him.

"Can I?"

"Do what you must."

You reach a hand into his hair, messing it up first, blinking slowly at his face. Jaime holds his breath as you're practically stuck on him, chest pressed to his, and he swears his heartbeat is scarily quick right now. He stares down at your eyes as you stare at his hair, fingers pulling gently to mess it up more than it was. In fact, he should be—

warning: quickened heart beat.

There it is.

Jaime curses under his breath, and you stop, blinking up at him as he leans back.

"Hm?"

"That's the scarab. My heart's beating too fast." He avoids your gaze again, looking up at the ceiling.

"So like, a defense mechanism?" You tilt your head. "Can I... unbutton your shirt slightly?"

"Yeah, uh, sure." He holds his breath as you slide it open slightly, freezing in place when you stare at his chest for a little too long. "You alright?"

"Yeah." You mumble, pulling away, hiding your face. "Yeah. I'm fine. God."

detected increased heart rate.

"You sure?" He tilts his head to get a better look at you, noticing your skin has flushed darker. Ah. So you were flustered too.

"You wanna go?" You finally speak up. "We should get going. It's across town."

"We can fly there. Well, you can."

"I'm not flying for a frat party."

"And you'll walk?"

"At least I won't be drunk." You mumble. "Besides, I can just sleep on one of the benches here. At least we don't have anti-homeless architecture on this campus."

"What's with all the crime on campus anyway?"

"Oh, you didn't know? Everyone here is tied into crime in some way." You smile, opening your fridge. "there's correlation between creativity and sociopathic tendencies, after all."

Jaime blinks slowly. "What."

stable heart beat. Not lying.

"Heros end up desensitized too." You pull out the whipped cream, squirting it right into your mouth as you swallow. You lick your lips as you set the bottle back into the fridge."Come on."

The school is shaped more and more like a prison, Jaime thinks. The architecture is shooting proof, and all the windows are bulletproof. He wasn't sure if it was because of safety worries or the amount of crime. The school wasn't known for crime, so it was a little strange being told that petty crime was common in the school. Well, maybe it was. It's probably less than whatever's going on in Gotham anyway.

"Is... petty crime common here?" Jaime winces at how uncertain he sounds.

"It's..." You pause. "It's not that common, actually. It just seems that ever since you came, our crime rate has gone up."

"Pinning the blame on me?" Jaime fakes offense.

"Yeah." You joke. "Any plans on how to make friends?"

"Any tips?"

"Find the people who are in the corner." You mumble. "Or something. I don't know. Get to know people over drinks. Just have the beetle scan the drinks for anything bad for you."

"What should I not touch?"

"The punch. The beer is usually fine. The beer tends to be canned."

"And the vodka?"

"It's alright. I take a shot of punch for liquid confidence, though." You hum. "But today I can't. I'll just have to shoot straight vodka."

"Or you could just, not drink?"

You shrug, getting to the door of the house, a guy greeting you.

"Ay! You're back!" He grins.

You grin back. "I brought a friend today. That's alright, right?"

"For you, sugarlips? Always."

You lick your lips, winking as you step into the house, Jaime in tow, his hand in yours.

half of the people here's bloodstream have high concentration of alcohol already. beware.

"Got it." Jaime mumbles, following behind you as you squeeze through the crowd. He gets a couple of looks, raised brows in interest and flirty winks. He wonders if you get this often too. Well, if you came and went looking like that, then surely you would. Maybe that's why everyone calls you a nickname. Jaime grows frustrated as he thinks of it. Did you have someone else?

"Sugarlips!" A guy wraps an arm around your shoulder, smiling. "Come back for more?"

"Brought a friend today." You point at Jaime.

The guy doesn't even bother looking at Jaime. "Your boy?"

"Not quite." You smile. "Hands off of him, though. You wouldn't mind telling the girlies that, would you?"

"No worries." He gives you a wink. "Should I tell the boys to keep their hands off too?"

Jaime nods at you, squeezing your hand gently.

"Please." you lick your lips, a smile on your face.

"Watch the punch for me, will you? Don't want anyone drugging it."

"We'll watch the punch." You nod.

"Of course, sugar." He laughs, nodding at Jaime as he heads back into the crowd.

"Well?" You tilt your head at Jaime as he stares at the punch.

Stick your finger in it for more thorough analysis. I can't tell anything without contact.

"Need a cup."

You grab a red solo cup, scoop the drink without the ladle and hand it to him. Jaime blinks twice at the liquid before giving up. Oh well, it's a frat party. What can he do about it?

"Is it always this messy?" Jaime sticks his finger in, waiting for the analysis.

"Occasionally it's worse." You hum. "So? Did you find anything?"

Unknown aphrodisiac toxin detected. Rohypnol drug detected. Liquid alcohol content 37%.

"Rophynol and an unknown aphrodisiac." Jaime repeats. "Alcohol content is 37%."

"Remove the flunitrazepam from the punch, please." You mumble quietly, the water swirling slowly from people's drinks. The powder hangs in the air as you open a plastic bag. "put the flunitrazepam into the bag, please." The powder swirls into the bag, and Jaime watches as you tuck it into your pocket. The crowd of people with drinks don't notice at all, not even when something bubbles out of their drinks.

"Then?" He raises a brow.

"Go have fun." You hum, flicking the cap off of the vodka. "Or have Khaji Da scan the people to figure out who decided to put the date rape drug in the punch, but not my problem." You pour yourself a shot. "I already figured it out when I walked in."

You tilt your head as you watch the vodka pour into the glass, eyes glistening as you do, eyes gentle and tired, and Jaime finds something in your eyes. He's not quite sure what it is, the spotty lights in the living room painting your skin different colors, but there's something about you, he supposes. Even in the way he takes your outfit in, finally, staring too hard at your face. Reds and greens dance across it, leading down to your shoulder. Something glistening on your arm catches his attention.

"You have powder on your shoulder." He reaches to wipe it. "who was it?"

"It's fine." You brush him off, putting the vodka back on the table. "Want a shot?"

Jaime furrows his brows, your name slipping past his lips. "who was it?"

Your name sounds like honey coming from him as you down the shot. God, you were down bad.

"Seriously, who is it?" Jaime knows at this point, only one person had touched your shoulder, but he wants to hear it from your mouth.

"Guy who had his hand on my shoulder. That's why he asked me to guard the drinks. Be right back." You smile at him, slipping into the crowd, going to find the girl he had his hands on.

Jaime tries following after you but loses you in the crowd, grimacing. You were probably looking for the guy who drugged everyone. "Khaji. Find her."

upstairs bedroom second on the left.

Jaime squeezes past the crowd to try and find you. If the guy was capable of drugging the punch, then god knows what he was capable of doing to you if you went alone. Sure, you can fight, but what if something does happen? He didn't want you getting hurt, even if he knew you could fight without a problem.

sounds like you like the girl

"Khaji, can you please," He slams the door open, staring as you have the man on the ground, heel pressed on his windpipe, the girl still unconscious on the bed. Jaime lets out a breath in relief as he steps over to you, Spanish spilling past his lips before he can think too much. "gracias a dios. ¿mi vida, qué demonios estás haciendo? ¡No huyas solo!" thank god. my life, what are you doing? Don't run off by yourself!

You blink in surprise as he breaks into scolding in Spanish, grabbing you by the arms, tilting your head to get a proper look for any bruises that could have landed on you, cursing you out for running off on your own, and you blink trying to keeping up with his words. At some point you press a hand over his mouth, pointing down at the man under you. Jaime follows your finger, remembering that you're stepping on a man's neck. You... crazy. Only you. He hears Khaji Da laugh in his head.

"We've really got a knack for speaking when you have a man's throat under your foot, huh?" Jaime mumbles, furrowing his brows. "Let him go."

"You called me mi vida." You press your chest to his, staring at him, batting your lashes. The pet name sends blood rushing to your head, drunk on the way it sounded so sweet falling from his lips. Did he mean it? Did he mean it when he called you his life? "Did you mean it?"

"It slipped out."

from your unconscious maybe.

"Khaji, shut up." Jaime hisses, face impossibly flushed. "Get off the man before he dies."

You step off of him, the man long passed out.

"Is he still breathing?"

breathing: stable

Jaime exhales quietly.

"So? Mi vida?" You smile cheekily, pointing at yourself. "Am I tu vida?"

Jaime tries avoiding the topic. You're a little tipsy right now. "You literally had a single shot. How are you already–"

blood alcohol content from breath: .06

"Seriously?!" Jaime grimaces as you stare up at him, expecting an answer, cheeks puffed out and frown on his face. "Will you get off of me if I say yes?"

"Depends if you're being honest." You grin, pressing your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. "Push me off if you're uncomfortable."

"Seriously, you're drunk. You're probably not even conscious of half of the stuff you're doing." Jaime peels you from him, throwing you over his shoulder.

"EEK!! I'm being carried like a sack of potatoes!" You shriek, laughing. The alcohol is really messing with your brain. "I'll stay in the room. Go call for the guy at the door we greeted earlier. He'll know how to deal with this."

"I thought frathouses let things like this slide?" He sets you down on the bed next to the girl.

"Not this one. Especially not when he actually planned on doing something." You beam at him, eyes closed, lips quirked upward. "So, could you?"

"If you say the magic word." He tilts his head. He could have a little fun with you.

"That would make it a command." You mumble. "How about something I can give you? Go make a friend downstairs. Give him a friend, p—"

Jaime presses his hand to your mouth. "I don't need the help, thank you."

You blink slowly at him, licking his palm.

"Where'd you even learn that?!" He pulls his had away with a grimace.

"Go get the guy at the door." You groan. "I want to leave if you aren't going to make any friends."

"I'll take you home and then come back to make some friends if you really want me to." Jaime mumbles.

"It'll be too late by then. The police are coming soon."

"Huh?"

"Noise complaints." You shrug. "They break up around 1 or 2 am, so it'll be soon."

"It's been that long?!"

"Go get the guy from the door!" You land in the bed with a thud, sighing. "God, before I kiss you or something. Hurry up."

"Huh?" Jaime freezes in his tracts, turning around to stare at you.

"Don't you wanna know why they call me sugarlips?" You pout, resting your pinky on your bottom lip as you jut it out. You pull it down with a pop, blood rushing to Jaime's head as you do. He needs to leave before he does something to you. God, his self-control could only last him so long.

"That's definitely the alcohol talking." Jaime mumbles frantically, shutting the door behind him. His ears and face feel eerily warm despite being sober.

Ugh, you were a force to be reckoned with.

He hauls you out eventually, flying you to the dorm instead of walking, worried that you'd get hit on, even as he unlocks the door with his ID, you mumble quietly, half-asleep, half-conscious.

"Wake up. I don't know where your key is." Jaime shakes you gently. "Come on."

"Call me mi vida again." You whisper.

He complies, setting you down, a hand around your waist for support. "Mi vida, get your key, will you?"

You fish out the key, unlocking the dorm room. "Wanna stay the night?"

"I'm two floors down. It's fine." He mumbles.

key replication made

"What." Jaime freezes at Khaji's update. "excuse me?"

"Hm?" You raise a brow, door half-open.

"Not you. Shower and go to sleep when you get in." He sighs. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a goodbye ki—"

Jaime shoves you into your dorm, slamming the door closed as he holds it in place, heart racing, cheeks flushed, lips parted as he desperately tries to catch his breath. God. You are such a force to be reckoned with. He's going to get a heart attack with you around sometime. You're twice as bad when you're drunk. But hell did he want to kiss you. Too bad you were drunk. He couldn't think of taking advantage of you like that, even if you were the one who asked.

Jaime makes a mental note to keep you away from alcohol next time.

The next time you see Jaime, the two of you are actually fighting someone again. Your suit is on, your voice stopping the metal from slamming onto the civilians as you evacuate them. Jaime focuses on the man himself, hand transforming into a blaster as he shoots at the villain. Didn't you say most of the crime was minuscule in comparison with other cities? Well, this was minuscule compared to how many beetles he's fought because of who he was. At least there weren't other beetles in the city.

"I thought you said there weren't supervillains in this city!" He yells at you, voice coming out altered.

"They don't come often!" You yell, turning your attention to the metal. "Fall, please."

The metal slams down onto the ground as you tackle Jaime out of the way.

"Why did you let it fall?!"

"I can't hold things up for too long my throat hurts!" You shriek, turning to face the floating criminal." Pass out, right now, please!"

The supervillain drops on the ground with a thud, and you exhale, faceplanting into Jaime's suit with a sigh. You stay there for a couple of seconds, catching your breath, groaning as you finally sit up straight. Jaime can feel the plush of your skin despite the suit's barrier, and it is not something to feel while the adrenaline after a fight dissolves in his system.

"It was that easy!?" He rests on his arms, suit scanning the unconscious criminal.

"My throat hurts." You mumble, walking over to where the criminal was passed out. "Two minutes until police come."

"I'll fly you." He sits up with you, linking his arms behind your back and under your legs, wings fluttering as he soars into the sky. "Who pays reparation fees?"

"Taxes." You cough. "Ow."

"Stop talking!"

"Stop asking me questions— heUG." You reach to grab your throat, grimacing.

"Alright. Stop talking until we can figure out how to get your voice back without killing you." He groans. "At this point we might as well live on the dorm roof."

You grimace.

"Was your throat damaged when we met the first day?"

You shake your head.

"Oh, so you just hated me."

You lunge at him, annoyed.

initiating rough translation... "Are you crazy!? Do you know how much energy it takes to knock a supervillain out with my voice? You think I'm superman?! I didn't hate you the first day, I just didn't think it was worth the effort!"

"Don't lunge at me while I'm flying!" Jaime shrieks, nearly dropping you as he lands on the roof with a crash. "I didn't know! I can't analyze your entire genetic structure just from looking at you, you know?!"

"would you like to see me naked, then?"

"NO!" Jaime yells, leaning back as you shift on his lap. "Dios, now everyone's going to know that I landed on the roof. Hurry up on back to your place now."

"Jaime, pretty boy."

"What?" He tries to ignore the way the back of his head rushes with warmth at the pet name.

"I can't detransform without my voice."

Jaime freezes in place, blinking at you slowly as he lunges to grab you by the shoulders. "Speak. Detransform right now—"

"I CAN'T."

"You know," Jaime pauses. "I'm impressed that you can tell, Khaji. How are you reading her body language so well?"

unlike you, I have been observing her body language. she is a suitable person for you to date.

"WHAT." Jaime chokes, coughing to get the spit caught in his throat out. You jolt as he rests his head on your chest, coughing profusely.

Jaime, I need to see her in order to translate. Though, her heartbeat is abnormally fast.

Jaime looks up at you, where you're looking down at him, lips parted in embarrassment, eyes wide with confusion, skin flushed with warmth. Jaime probably doesn't look much better under the suit right now, his own heart fighting to break through his ribcage. You're just... so pretty. He stares at you a little too hard, eyes drinking in your figure, forgetting how close you are to him.

"Can I kiss you?"

That cuts Jaime out of his thoughts as he leans away from you. "I did not need to hear you ask if you could kiss me with the scarab's voice."

You blink at him owlishly, mischief dancing in your eyes.

"No." He answers. "Not with Khaji's voice asking me."

"will you go on a d—"

"NOT WITH HIS VOICE ASKING ME!" Jaime cries.

You grin at him cheekily, scooching close to press yourself to his chest again. You rest your cheek on his chest, lips curling upward as you bat your lashes. You like messing with him, he finds.

"Then my own?" Your lips pull further up, and Jaime swallows while staring at your lips.

"You didn't lose your voice?" He stumbles over himself as you blink.

"Not quite. It hurt for a bit, but my self-healing ability is quite impressive too. So?" You hum. "Can I?"

"Yeah, sure, mi vida," He mumbles, the helmet on his head coming off as he presses his lips to yours, lashes fluttering as your body arches to sink into him. His hand wraps around your wrist as he leans a little more in to get a better taste of your lips, another hand moving to the back of your head, tilting it as he stares at you through his lashes. He understands your nickname now, your lips do taste sweet, even when you haven't downed whipped cream. Ugh, he could spend eternity just making out with you, slowly, gently, without a care in the world. He pulls gently on your hair, leaning further in as he licks your bottom lip, exhaling more as his tongue darts past your pretty lips into your mouth. Your hand moves to press on his chest, whimpering as he tugs on your hair a little too hard.

You're just so pretty to him.

He lets out a sigh of satisfaction as you pull away for air, lips parted, eyes glazed over, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths.

Jaime reaches to wipe the saliva from your mouth with his thumb, smiling gently as he does.

God. Shit. He's in love with you.

unusually high levels of dopamine and adrenaline detected in bloodstream. quickened heartbeat warning.

"Can I kiss you again?" Jaime whispers.

"Yeah." You whisper back, smiling so hard your eyes crinkle.

Fingers in your hair and lips slotted against yours, Jaime thinks this is heaven for him. Even as the two of you have detransformed, still stuck on the roof of the dorms, your hands on his chest as he sinks further into your touch, smiling against your lips as you hum, the vibrations of your chest traveling to his as a pleasant buzz. Jaime closes his eyes all the way, and he only pulls away when you do, the gentle fondness still present in his eyes as he looks at you.

Yeah. That was what this is. Love.

The same love that was present in his mother's eyes, yet different from the love that was for his family. This love was newer— it made his skin crawl and his heart race, but it wasn't unpleasant. He felt giddy and boyish, falling for someone like this— he felt like it was having a first love, your cheeks flushed and ears red, shy glances stolen in a room full of people, only seeing you under the spotlight when other people existed. Jaime wanted to relish in this forever— the feeling of your skin pressed to his, he would stay with you forever if he could— If you'd let him.

"So?" You smile. "Know why now?"

Jaime pauses to stare at the way the sun shines through your hair and coats you in a glow of gold, his hands still on you as he looks up, a smile on his face. A laugh breaks past his lips at your smile, the happiness from finally having you in his arms sending blood through his body and genuine bliss through his system. Ah. Right. This was heaven to him— to have you in his arms and a smile on his face, the sun not even as bright as the way your eyes crinkle while looking at him, adoring him to the ends of the earth. Ah, it feels good to be loved.

"Mm..." Jaime hums playfully. "Maybe I'll know if you kiss me again."

"God, I think I just unleashed a monster."

"Your fault for being so irresistable, mi vida." He goes back to your lips, humming happily as he does.

Your relationship doesn't change much at first. The two of you are exclusive, yes, but neither of you have put a label on the relationship. Other than the making out in your dorm and occasionally while fighting, not much has really changed. You both have your classes, and you both have things that you are busy with. You wonder if you guys are just friends with benefits, then. Though, judging from the way Jaime looked at you, there was no way the guy thought you both were just friends.

Then, Jaime starts bringing food over to your dorm, clinging onto you while the two of you huddle on the couch with a movie playing in the background. You find yourself in his arms as you listen to his heartbeat at night, and suddenly the single dorm is a double, Jaime squished on your bed next to you, sprawled out with an arm around you lovingly as the two of you sleep. You're... definitely not friends with benefits. You're practically dating, huh?

"I'm here!" Jaime calls from the door, holding a bag of takeout with a bouquet in the other arm.

"What is it today?" You take the flowers from him with a smile.

"Bart visited today." He hums. "Said there was a good bagel place downtown he visited before."

"Ooh." You mumble. "Did you try it?"

"No, but I ordered something I figured you'd like." He takes out the boxes, sliding yours to you, smile on his face.

"Jaime, can I call you mi amor?" You tilt your head.

"You can call me whatever you want, mi vida." He hums. "Just you."

ew.

"Khaji, shush." He hisses at the beetle.

You open the takeout box, grinning at the bagel. "We should make this here."

"We should." He hums. "You'd probably make a better one too."

"Should have Bart judge it." You chew on the bagel, pausing. "Are we... dating?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't we be?" Jaime pauses. "Oh. I forgot to ask you out, huh? Wait, I can prepare something nice and then as—"

"Jaime, go out with me?" You tilt your head, smile crinkling your eyes, your cheeks pulled upward with a foolish grin.

"Yes." he breathes. "Yes, mi vida. Forever and always, it's a yes."

You hum, pulling a flower out of the bouquet and tucking it behind his ear. "There. Now we're actually dating."

"Mi vida." He spins your chair to face him, arms gripping both sides, smile on his face. "Can I have a kiss?"

"For you? Always yes." You set the bagel down, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Though, I probably taste like bagel right now."

"You always taste good." Jaime mumbles, pressing his lips to yours.

And it's gentle, the way that Jaime loves. He presses his fingers into your skin and wraps his arms around you, relishing in the warmth you give him, and to him, you can do no wrong. Even if you make mistakes, he's there for you, slowly, gently, always there to anchor and weigh you down. You'll do the same for him, fingers threading through his hair, skin warm on his, a smile and voice reserved for him.

and god did Jaime love you for it.

#btw for anyone who wants to know: I have requests open if anyone wants a jaime fic :3 #im rearranging the queue for this I can NOT stop thinking abt Jaime I need to kiss him rn #GUYS DAN MORA MY BELOVED LITERALLY HE LOOKS SOOO GOOD HERE #god i hate (love) writing slow burn mutual pining ugh #jaime reyes x reader #blue beetle x reader #blue beetle imagine #jaime reyes imagine #dc x reader #☾.fics

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elsaellaelys · 9 months

Text

Tease

summary: JJ is the only one that makes Y/N shy.

pairing: JJ Maybank x fem!reader

1.300 words

a/n: Tumblr made this really hard to post. What's going on?

Let me know if you have any requests!

--★--

Y/N always seemed to know what to say, everytime, with everybody. She had the answered in the tip of her tongue all the time and never let anything goes by unnoticed. The boys never had a chance coming with pick up lines, she made sure she was in charge, having all of them in the palm of her hands; smoke 'em like a cigarette: puff, pass.

And she was flirty with everybody. So could you misunderstand the reason she and JJ started to cross the line of friendship?

As JJ was just the same, sassy and reckless, constantly messing around, living life for the moment, girls was just a pastime, cold beer and nice weed to feel the fun. Everything was a joke, life was a big joke so, why take it serious when you could just enjoy?

Of course Y/N thought about JJ in a not-just-friendly way, so did he, but it was just a thought. So what if she was a raving beauty? So what if she wanted to see lower into his swim shorts when he was shirtless? Don't everybody thinks that about their good looking friends?

Y/N was just showing her new cargo mini skirt to Kiara, the pogues were setting the hammocks to enjoy the summer twilight, she did a twirl, popping her ass up a little she looked over her shoulder to the curly hair girl behind her. "What do you think? Is it too tight? I hope I still can crouch."

"It looks amazing." Kie answered.

"Hmm." JJ hummed, laid in his hammock he had a perfect view of her.

"What?" she turned around "I look bad?"

"Nah, you look delicious." He played, she giggled, hands on her hips as her head inclined a little. "You think? Wanna have a bite?" she played back.

"Always."

It's very right it was the way he smiked at her - hands behind his head, sleeveless shirt showing his relaxed arms muscles - that made her blush like that. The pogues shared a look. That was new. She sat in a garden chair, kinda flustered smiled back at him, coming back to Kiara to lightly avoid JJ. "Can you believe I got it from the thrift store? It was up for grabs."

JJ smiled to himself, it was like he found out a superpower. Making Y/N blush like that, like he just caught her out of guard when he clearly didn't. He wanted to make sure it wasn't the hot air in her system, so he build a tension between them all the time they were together, arms around her shoulders, hands running down her arms, face too close to hers when he had the chance, playing with the hair in the back of her neck, with the strings of her bikini just to see the nervous look in her eyes and she hated it, hated even more the fact that she like it, her blood heating up to her head, neck felling so hot, she didn't know why though, it was just JJ, just teasing, but her body had its own reaction without askind for permission, she couldn't do nothing but stand there, unable to vanish that stupid grin out from his face.

The group were currently trying to light up a bonfire for the end of the Friday as they like to do, sit around the fire drink, smoke and laugh, Pope trying to give John B. hints because he couldn't start the fire, a discussion beginning to grow while Kiara was sitted, Y/N standing in front of the place the fire was supposed to be, both laughing at them.

"Don't you think I can't light a fire? I've done it a thousand times, alright?!" John B. bickered.

"I'm just saying how you can do it better!" Pope said back.

"I think I can do it by myself." The matches were going to waste one after one, JB was clearly pissed with Pope and his hints. "I need a fucking lighter, man! Can you give one and shut your mouth?!" he yelled.

JJ threw him a lighter, instinctively going behind Y/N, arms creeping around her body holding her tight against him. She tried dodge from his hold but he was pressing her arms down.

"Can you let me go?!" she squirmed

"Nah, I like staying like this." he smirked, cheek to cheek with her as he rocked her to the sides.

"Let me go!" the girl yelled, everybody staring as she broke away from him, shoving his chest. "Fuck!" she stormed inside the Chateau.

JJ shrugged, eyes wide. "Wow. Didn't see that coming."

"You really didn't?" Kiara sarcastically asked.

"Man, you're provoking her way too much. It's even pitiful." Pope added.

JJ got up, going to find Y/N in the kitchen, her head leaning against the fridge door, eyes closed, she looked like she was trying to calm her nerves, he made her feel so vulnerable she felt embarrassed. He felt guilty as he approached, clearing his throat to make his presence noticed. She looked up at him, dead glare.

"Trying to cool down?" he jocked.

She deep sighed, grabbing a bottle of water. "What do you want?"

"Did I annoyed you? I didn't mean to."

"Really? You've been doing that for a while, it's really shaming, y'know?" she complained.

"Why? Why does it bothers you so much?" JJ asked, getting closer, not with a mean intention, but because he needed to feel her closer. "I'm sorry." he clarified, hands slowly going up to her arms, stroking her skin. "Do I make you nervous? This makes you feel nervous?"

She stared at his chest, not really finding the strength to look in his eyes. It just JJ. What makes him so different from the other guys? "I don't know. Maybe."

"But it's just me." he was right, but that was the problem. "See, there's only us here. Tell me what's wrong."

She shrunk, not wanting to say it.

"I don't want to make you nervous. It's okay." he reassured, hand coming up to her face bringing it up a little, her eyes met his. "Thought you were tough, you're just a little baby."

"I'm not a baby." she protested.

"Oh no? This doesn't make you nervous?" he asked, holding her waist softly, hand sneaking under her shirt, she shook her head. "That's good. Can I...?" he approached her neck, leaving sweet kisses along her jaw line, she whimpered, he smiled into her skin. "You like it, uhm?"

"Stop the teasing, it's exactly what I don't like." she complained, squeezing his arms tightly.

"'Kay, sorry." he laughed, leaning a bit to capture her lips with his. It was all a little faltering, sure they both wanted that, but it was different, new, that type of conection, the tension. Although, the kiss was the hottest, beyond question, teasing was over, their bodies hot against each other. JJ felt he fell in a trap he created.

Y/N didn't mind the days of annoyance anymore, she wanted him more and more pressed to her body. Tongues slipping, lips swollen, hands clinging to her waist, and hips, and face, ass, cupping, stroking, whimpering lightly.

They broke apart, hearing someone clear the throat behind them, turning around to find Kiara, Pope and John B. standing with mocking grins on their faces.

"We thought you killed each other." Kiara scoffed.

"Clearly not." Pope laughed.

Y/N rolled her eyes "And you're gonna stand here and disturb?"

"Uh, sorry, just grabbing the stuff for the s'mores." John B. apologized crossing the room to the kitchen cabinets. "We're leaving..." he said, returning to add. "Don't do it in my kitchen."

"Get out!" JJ whisper yelled, coming back to her lips, unholdable smile in his face.

#jj maybank #jj mayback imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank smut #obx fanfiction

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stillnotyourmusebitch · 2 months

Note

AAAGH I loved your sinner!Adam fic about him and Reader watching TV together 🥺

I heard you take sinner!Adam requests so is it okay to have a sort-of part 2? Maybe watching movies became a regular thing between them and one time they end up kissing during one? If you find it repetitive and don't want to it's totally okay, I understand! I hope you have a nice day and keep up with the good work 🥹

Oh I loved writing this. The fic below is a sequel to this ficlet

I do hope that you liked it. I'm always worried I've made him too ooc but Sinner!Adam is fanon based atm and if he is wanting redemption he would change his ways.

So Urm yeah enjoy. . . .

What we watching?? Sinner!Adam x GN!reader

Fluffy af

That night watching trashy romcoms with Adam could have just been a one off thing and you would’ve been fine with it. But when he approached you in the communal kitchens the next morning with a proposition to make ‘Thursday film night’ a regular thing between the two of you. You had asked him why. He said that hanging out with you yesterday was one of the most fun things he had done in a long time. You smiled fondly at him before agreeing.

As Thursday night rolled around again. You were looking forward to sharing some more of your favourite films with Adam. He’d said he would be there by 6ish. You glance at the time on your phone. It was only 6.05pm. He’s probably just running late after the one on one session with Charlie.

An easy way to keep your mind busy was dragging out all your blankets and making a sort of nest type thing on the floor by the couch. You used to do this with your family when you were alive. It just made the movie marathons all that more special. After seeing how far Adam had come since arriving at the hotel. You had really wanted to show him how much he meant to you.

‘Wait, as a friend.’ You stopped mid cushion grab. You liked him as only a friend right? Right?

Your door burst open and slammed shut very quickly Adam was only 45 minutes late, you looked up seeing him breathing hard, carting an armload of snacks, drinks and a few bowls of things.

“There you . . .” he shushes you looking frantically at the closed door. “What did you do?” You whisper as you crawl onto the couch.

A far off loud shouting could be heard in the silence. He waited a minute more before letting out a breath.

“It wasn’t my fault honest.” He looked extremely guilty. You quirked a brow wanting an explanation. “I was trying to make my super awesome dip for our movie night but I maaaaaay have made a really big mess but I didn’t mean to, I just tripped over that cleaner chick who was chasing more of them roaches. This hotel must have an infestation or she is breeding them just to kill. Oh wait, I’m getting off point, the thing is I might have made too much of the dip than I intended and I kinda launched half of it onto another patron. But it wasn’t my fault. This time at least.” He frantically spoke as he juggled the drinks and snacks about in his arms before depositing them carefully on the coffee table. Standing back up he turned and looked down at what you were making. “What’s that?” He points to the accumulated amount of cushions, blankets and other soft furnishings piled on the floor.

“Well, the thing is.” You hopped off the couch into the nest trying to act like it wasn’t a big deal. How were you supposed to explain the reason behind it without him laughing at you? “You know what it’s stupid let me just . . .” You felt shame rush to your cheeks as you tried to dismantle the obviously stupid idea.

“Hey, I didn’t say it was a bad thing. Looks comfy as fuck. Budge up would ya.” You hopped out as he set himself down in the dead center of the nest, keeping his legs open slightly to give you a place to sit. Last week he really liked having you snuggled up close to him, why did you think this week would be any different.

You chose the first movie and plopped yourself down in the space he left for you, his arms wrapping around your middle pulling you flush against his chest.

“So what we watching?”

-----

“I have a question do all of these movie have the same premise?” Adam asked after about 15 minutes into the third film.

“Whatdya mean?” You say through a mouthful of chips.

“Like . . hang on pause the film a sec.” He fumbles for the remote to stop the movie. You shuffle a bit to see him better. “Like don’t get me wrong they’re good films, a bit cliché but surely the lead woman knows that the ‘Oh I’m a famous something or other I have no time for a man’” his fake high pitched womanly voice had you laughing. “Hey shush let me finish my thought.”

“But you make such a good woman.” You poke at his chest playfully.

“Ah ha ha ha.” He grabs your hand in his. “But seriously shush. My point is are there any original ideas in these films?”

“You saying I got trash taste in cinema?” You try pulling your hand away from his grasp. Adam doesn’t let go but pulls you closer to him.

“What I’m saying is watching all these oblivious people who clearly have strong feelings for the other person, got me thinking.” He looks down at your hand in his. “Ya know what never mind let’s keep watching the movie.” He lets go of your hand and grabs for the remote, setting the film going again.

The whiplash from that conversation was enough to make your head spin. You stayed a second more simply looking into the face of a man who had something he wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to do so. As you turned back in his arms to watch the movie, you could hear a small sigh of relief.

You tried to go back to watching the movie but you couldn’t. Adam only held you loosely now, choosing to focus more on grabbing snacks and sipping his soda. Your mind went into overdrive.

‘What did you do wrong?’

‘Was he mad at you?’

‘Did he . . . wait did he like you?’

You almost choked on a piece of popcorn at the realisation. Adam liked you.

Daring to flick your eyes to look at him. He was focused on the film but the soft look of longing he bore was almost too much.

“Adam?” Your voice was gentle so as not to spook him.

“Mmmyeah?” He was still watching the screen.

You grabbed the remote and paused the TV again.

“Hey, it was getting to a good part.” He looked down at you annoyed. “What. Is there something on my face?” He touches his face trying to feel for any irregularity. “Hey, say something you’re freaking me. mmmf” You pulled him down by his shirt and kissed him. He froze against your lips.

‘Shit was I wrong?’

You move to pull away. But his hands cup your face pulling you back into a tender kiss that makes you melt into his touch. The kiss lasted no longer than 5 seconds but you didn’t care you felt like your entire body was floating.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long.” He spoke softly as he broke the kiss. “Can I kiss you again?” he asked hopefully.

“Yes.” Your words were barely a whisper but it was all he needed to pull you back against him, he kissed you in such a tender way that made your heart flutter in your chest. You didn’t realise he was capable of such gentility but you craved more of it. Your hands carded into his hair, being careful of his horns, as one of his hands went to cradle the back of your head, effectively tilting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. His other hand moved to your lower back, fingers gripping the fabric of your shirt. The kiss had an undertone of heat laced in the movements of your joined lips.

You broke the kiss panting slightly, you noted his pupils were dilated slightly as you were sure yours mirrored back.

You had to slow this down now before you regretted anything.

“Adam.” Your voice low in warning. “As much as I enjoy kissing you. Can we take whatever this is a little slower?”

You expected him to whine or pout about being told no. but he just smiles goofily at you. Swiping a thumb over your lower lip.

“Sure thing.” He kisses your forehead before helping you settle back against him the way your were before. He picked up the remote “Ready to continue?”

You weaved your fingers with his other hand and nodded “Ready.”

--------

I hope this is what you wanted.

My ask box is still open if anyone else got requests

#jamie writes #callmerainman #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin adam x reader #hazbin adam #gender neutral reader #sinner!adam #adam x reader #hazbin hotel adam x reader #prompt filled #my fic

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fruit3milk · 2 years

Text

--> Alpha! Arataki Itto x Omega! Male Reader : "Rut Season" 18+! <3

Warnings! + Content: ABO dynamics, concepts, and universe, breeding kink, knotting, heavy smut, NSFW, amab anatomy, he/him pronouns

Summary! : Itto is going through his rut cycle and is just an incredibly horny man😌 pure smut

Minors, Fujoshi/danshi, Fem-aligned DNI!!!

Itto had been gone all morning, afternoon, and evening. The only time you saw actually saw him today was when you woke up, earlier than him as usual, only to see Itto quickly and quietly slipping out of your shared tent. You thought it was strange but figured he just wanted to train extra hard today. That was until he missed dinner and now it was around 9:30. You stayed pacing around the campfire, wondering what could have had him out there for so long. A member of the gang was heading towards his tent to turn in for the night when he spotted you. "You stayin' up late Y/N?" He asked. "Yeah I just, I want to make sure Itto gets back.. He's been training all day I think." You replied in a worried tone. "Ah well that's the boss for you, I'm sure he'll be back as soon as he notices it's dark. I'll see ya in the morning yeah?" He smiled softly and entered his tent, heading to bed for the night. "Yeah..good night.." You said quietly. It was around 10:15 when you finally saw a familiar figure approaching the campsite and bonfire. Once he got into the light you noticed it was indeed Itto. He looked exhuasted and somehow fevered. "Itto?..are you ok?" His head raised quickly when he heard your voice, his expression changing into one of worry and fear. "Y-Y/N..what are you doing still up? You should've been asleep by now it's almost 10:30-." You cut his sentence off. "I'm supposed to be asleep? What about you? You were gone all day and I-, I was worried about you.." Your voice trailed off as you finished your sentence, your tone becoming melancholic. "I-..I'm sorry Y/N, but there's a serious reason I promise! I'm just- just kinda going through something right now." Your brows furrowed upwards in a concerned expression. You approached Itto slowly, him backing up and jolting a little. "Itto? I won't hurt you dear you know that. What's going on baby?, talk to me." You said using that nurturing, soft voice of yours. His guard came down slightly, enough for him to open up to you. "I- can we go inside to talk about this?" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "I don't want the others to know what's going on.." You nodded your head and held your hand out for Itto to take. "Of course we can." You said with a soft smile. He hesitantly took your hand in his, grasping it tight. You lead both of you to your shared tent, making sure to tie and zip it up tight so no one could disturb you. He sat down on the multiple blankets and pillows on the ground, sighing and covering his face with both his hands. You sat next him gently, trying to find a way to word your next sentence. "What's going on honey?" He lowered his hands and took a deep breath. "I've been-, um, well I guess there's no easy way to put this but.." He turned his head to the side to face you. His cheeks were flushed red and his eyes showed desperation, but for what? "You know I'm an alpha right?" You nodded your head and listened intently to him. "Well..I think it's um- mating season for my kind and..and my rut started last night.." Your eyes widened and suddenly all the pieces fit together perfectly. "Ohh.., is that why you left so early this morning?" He looked to the side, almost ashamed. "I had to..'cause I knew I wasn't gonna be able to..to control myself around you, ya know? You just..you look so cute all the time and with my rut I just- I just didn't want to freak you out or..do something weird around you? God I don't even know how to explain it-" Your hand gently raised to place itself upon Ittos' shoulder. "You're ok dear, I don't judge you at all. You can't control when it comes or goes..if anything, you know I'd be more than happy to help you" His eyes lit up and he looked like he couldn't believe what you just said. His face became even more flushed if possible. "H-help me? Are you sure? I mean- you do know what that means right?" You smirked softly with a chuckle. "Of course I know what that means."

Itto had you face down ass up, his hips slamming against yours. He was panting almost like a dog. His nails dug into your hips, leaving deep scratch marks that drew blood. You couldn't care though, you were lost in that scent of his he gave out. Those drowning pheromones of his..It was all too good it put you in a trance. It filled up all your senses, almost persuading you and tempting you. Your moans were sometimes muffled by the pillows you bit into, other times you were screaming out in pleasure too aroused to care if anybody else heard. "Fuuuck~ you feel so good babyboy~" Itto breathlessly let out as he pounded that big cock of his inside you. One of his hands came up to tangle itself tightly in the back of your hair. He didn't pull you up though, just roughly tugged and kept a tight hold on you. You could barely think, only hearing the loud squelching and praises from Itto. "I-Itto~! Too fast~ t-too much~!" You moaned out as you tried your best to keep up with his frantic and harsh movements. Itto tried his best to calm his pace but it was basically the same as before. He couldn't help it, he couldn't think about anything else other than breeding you right here, right now. He let go of your hair though, using both of his hands to massage your hips. He tried his best to be as gentle as he could but his body just wouldn't accommodate that. Truly though, you didn't mind one bit. You couldn't help loving every bit of it. His roughness, the brutality of his thrusts against you, his primal need to just fuck you tired. You loved everything he gave you. His low groans of pleasure put you even deeper into submission. Your mouth stuck in an "O" shape as you got rammed into. His cock hit every single sweet spot inside you. The way his tip grinded against and abused your prostate pushed plea's and begs for more out of you. "Itto~!...fuck me more~♡! Please~!" You raised your hips up as far as you could, your toes curling in pleasure as your body was forced up and down by Itto's thrusts. Drool escaped from the sides of your grinning mouth, your eyes could barely stay open, almost crossed. Itto's hips seemed to never stutter or slow down, putting you in a fucked out haze. You couldn't resist the sinking feeling in the bottom pits of your stomach. "C-cumming!~ I'm- I'm gonna~!" A loud and high moan halfway left your throat, your little cock squirting all over the blankets and pillows beneath you. Itto on the other hand was still going at it. His aggressive pace overstimulating you way more than you were ready for. "Just a little longer baby..you're being such a good boy for me~♡ just relax~" That was easy for itto to say, he wasn't the one being pounded into the floor right now. You couldn't form sentences anymore, only lewd mumbles and choked out words left your lips. Itto was using you as a toy at this point, forcing your hips against his with his deathly tight grip on you. Soon, you felt his cock twitch inside you and a hot, thick liquid filling you up. Itto rutted into you, stopping his thrusts completely after a minute or two after. Your breathing was deep and exhausted mixing with his quick breaths. Itto slowly leaned down behind you, kissing the sides of your cheek and jaw before whispering lowly to you:

"Can you go for another round babe?..maybe more?"

♡ A/N's ♡ : Heyo! I hope this was ok as I'm still new to writing smut and fanfics in general. If you have any helpful tips or advice feel free to drop it!

If you guys would like a part 2 to this I would also love writing another part(ilovewritingittosmut).

I'm also currently working on a Kaeya x Male Reader fic!

Also should ya boy open smut requests? 👁👁 I would like to see what ya'll got

#male reader smut #itto x male reader #bottom male reader #x reader #x male reader #genshin smut #genshin x male reader #itto x reader #genshin x reader

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runningfrom2am · 4 months

Text

cold nights // part five

summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: this one got me y'all i won't lie-

series masterlist // playlist

"Is everything okay? You look upset." You ask Coryo, mere moments after he joined your side of waiting tributes and mentors to tour the arena. How had you seen it so quickly? He curses himself mentally for making his distress so obvious.

For you, it was how pale he looked. All the colour had been drained from his face, and you doubted that was from him running up to you to catch up. He looked too fit to be sick just from running. The crease in his brow and bloodshot eyes certainly didn't help, either.

"Nothing." He replies quickly as the line starts to move. "How are you doing today?"

"Well." You nod, allowing the shift in topic. You wouldn't want to press him, you just didn't want whatever he is upset about to be because of you. "I have been reading. It helps."

"Oh, good. I'm glad." He hums, looking down at you for the first time.

"Thank you, again. I hope it wasn't too much of a hassle to get."

"Not at all." He shakes his head, returning your ever-present smile as best as he can within an hour of witnessing the possible death of another one of his classmates. Truth is, it was hard to get Romeo and Juliet for you. It wasn't commonplace in the Capitol, clearly, and he only knew one person, more broadly, one family who had ever so much as set foot in the Districts.

"Coriolanus! What a pleasure! Please, come in." Sejanus's mother greets him at the door, stepping out of the way and gesturing for him to enter.

"Mrs. Plinth, how are you?" He asks politely, stepping in and wiping his shoes on the doormat.

"I'm good! Yourself?"

"Good." He nods.

"Come eat, I just finished up some baking." She walks back into the home, and he follows suit. He's shocked when he's led into the kitchen, and she pats a stool at the kitchen island for him to sit. "Would you like some tea?" She offers, already cutting a slice of pie for him. It was still steaming. Still warm. His stomach growled just at the sight as he sat down. Typically one wouldn't host guests in your kitchen, but she was District. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

"Please." Coryo smiles at her gratefully.

"How is your mentorship going?" She asks, and he can tell by her refusal to make eye contact that it's purely to make conversation. She likely shared some perspectives with her son, but she was too mature to state such unpopular opinions in a way her son was not. "Sejanus told me you got paired with the girl from District Twelve. He really likes her. Said she's very smart. Very kind."

"She is. She's lovely." Coryo nods as she slides a plate in front of him, handing him a fork moments later. "I think it's going well."

"It's such a shame..." She mutters, clicking her tongue and shaking her head as she puts the tea on the kettle on the burner in between them. "Anyway," She catches herself, moving on quickly. "What can we do for you? Shall I call for my son?"

"Y/N is the reason I'm here, actually." He replies, ignoring her comment. Admittedly, when it came to you, he agreed with Mrs. Plinth and her son. It is such a shame.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I would like to get her a copy of her favourite book. I was hoping you might have it, I've never heard of it before."

"We have a library." She nods. "I can certainly take a look, what is it called?"

"It's very, very old, so no worries if you don't have it, but it's called 'Romeo and Juliet'." He tells her, eyes gleaming with hope. If they didn't have it, he wasn't sure what he would do.

"Oh! That is familiar to me." She smiles. "I haven't read it since I was your age, but I'm sure we still have it kicking around here somewhere. Do you mind keeping an eye on the tea while I take a look?"

"Of course." Coryo nods, wanting nothing less than to make his own tea as a guest in someone's home, but he has to do what he must to get you that book.

As soon as she wipes her hands on her apron and walks out of the kitchen, he hears her voice again. "Sejanus! Your friend is here!"

Internally, he rolls his eyes. He didn't want to see his classmate, but he was in his home. Maybe Sejanus would handle his tea, at least. He took this opportunity to start eating the warm pie in front of him, he hated people seeing him eat, but he was making all kinds of sacrifices today. Maybe he should ask if he could take a piece for you.

"Oh. Coryo." Sejanus says, walking into the kitchen. "What brings you?"

"Y/N." He replies. "I'd like to get a book for her. Your mother says she has it."

"Ah." Sejanus hums, slotting himself into the seat next to Coryo. So much for the tea. "What book?"

"Romeo and Juliet. It's her favourite." Coryo explains. "She's going to do a monologue from it in her interview."

"At least she'll talk to you." Sejanus sighs. "Marcus won't even look at me."

"Well, Y/N is nicer than most." Coryo says, much more eager to talk about you than Sejanus and his problems.

"She's something, huh?" Sejanus smiles, taking the bait.

"Yes. Very intelligent."

"I think it will be easy for her to get donations. Even if people don't know what she's talking about." Sejanus elaborates. "She's pleasant to look at, and the people here are so shallow that that might be the only thing that matters."

Pleasant, to Coriolanus, was an understatement. Surely, you were the most beautiful thing the Districts had to offer. That didn't mean that Sejanus or anyone should be valuing you based on that, though. Your mind was just a bonus. It would work wonders in humanizing you to the people of the Capitol. It had certainly worked on him.

"I hope it's more than that." He replies, and truth be told, it's a lie. He doesn't want anyone to look at you the way he does, but if it meant people sending money so he could save your life, so be it.

"I do too, but it's doubtful. Regardless, she'll do well. You'll have lots of donations to work with." Sejanus says, attempting to comfort his friend's worries. "My ma will convince my father to send some for her. I heard them talking about it, she wants to help you."

"Is that not a conflict of interest?"

"Maybe." Sejanus shrugs. "They can't donate to Marcus, obviously, but Ma really likes her. Asks about her every day. She's rooting for both of them. The problem is they can't both win."

Coryo would take it. One hundred percent he would take it, but it makes his heart crack even more.

"Here! Here it is!" His mother calls out as she returns to the kitchen, excitedly placing the book on the counter next to Coryo, patting the top of it.

"Thank you, Mrs. Plinth." He sighs in relief, picking up the old book in his hands.

"Please, call me Ma. We're so far past formalities." She grins, leaning against the counter across from them as the tea starts to whistle. Coryo would sooner die than call her 'Ma', but once again, he would do just about anything for you at this point. "I hope she enjoys it."

"I'll get it back to you before the games." Coryo promises.

Her smile fades to a sad one as she pours out the tea into a mug for him. "Yes, well, feel free to hold onto it as long as you need to, dear. I have more books than I could read in a lifetime."

"I did promise her I would read it." He matches her sentiment. "So I'll get into it after the games. I doubt I'll have any free time until then."

"Keep it. It's yours." She smiles.

"Thank you." He says again, flipping briefly through some of the pages. It was old, practically falling apart in his hands, but he knew you would take good care of it. And after you, he would do the same.

"I hid it with the blanket." You tell him. "I sure hope it doesn't rain..." You mumble, looking behind you to check how clear the sky currently is. So far, the book would be safe.

You're careful, hesitant even as you approach the turnstiles ahead of you. You wish that it wouldn't speak when you walk through it, but you know it will as you watch every other tribute ahead of you push through the metal gate.

"Enjoy the show!" You wince at the words, then you're on the other side. That wasn't so bad, but the statement echoes endlessly in your mind, bouncing off every other thought you've had today as you carry on into the open arena, allowing the other tributes and mentors to enter behind the two of you as a camera is shoved in your face and you smile, giving it a small wave.

"Well, hello there." You grin, looking past the camera to the man holding it. "How are you today?"

You don't get an answer as one of the mentors is yanking him away to point the camera at someone else. As you look around, instinctively, you step closer to Coryo's side as you gaze around the arena. "Gosh, It sure is... small." You mutter, swallowing the lump in your throat as reality comes crashing down on you in the dark space.

He grabs your hand.

Coriolanus has always thought the arena was huge. From his memories at the top of the stands, it did look big, but down here, on the floor, it did feel a lot smaller. Especially when he forced himself to imagine that it would be him who would be killed in this very room, not even a week from today.

There was nowhere to hide, he knew that, but now, the idea scared him. What would you do? He doesn't even have any good advice to give you.

You jump as the door slams shut behind you, turning quickly to look. Even Coryo looks scared, and you pull yourself closer to him. Had they lied to you? Were the games starting today? You didn't want to say goodbye yet. To the world, your family, to Coriolanus. You weren't ready- but would you ever be?

That's when the windows start to slide open above you, letting the light back in.

"Welcome to the arena for the Tenth Annual Hunger Games. Tributes, mentors, you have fifteen minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy." The voice over the loudspeakers is reassuring to you, but you know that's only temporary.

Coryo stays silent as he looks around. Clearly, you were ahead of him, though, already pulling on his hand in the direction of some of the other tributes. He only slightly resisted, confused as to what was happening, but he would let you have this ounce of freedom to do what you pleased.

"Hi!" You smile hopefully at Marcus as he's standing with Sejanus. "I think we're supposed to be forming alliances. I trust you, Marcus."

Your candidness almost shocks Coryo, but he quickly realizes what you're doing. You have almost no shot without somewhere to hide, so your best bet is to find allies. He didn't want you to do this, but now he sees few other options. He makes brief eye contact with Sejanus as Marcus ignores you, just walking away. Coryo starts scanning the rest of the tributes, suddenly focussed on who would be your best strategic option.

"Hey." Coryo whispers, leaning in to whisper in your ear. "If you want allies, talk to them." He points over to Reaper and Dill. He could see that Reaper was strong, and Dill was clearly a liability. You could slot right into the middle as far as skillsets go; he could defend you and she was no threat.

"Okay. Come on." You nod, dropping his hand to head toward them. Coryo looked around on the way, trying to see what other mentors were doing. What he was supposed to be doing, but most of them were just talking to each other, others only to their tribute. There was no right action, but what the two of you were doing was different. That was good.

"Dill, Reaper!" You smile as you get closer, giving a slight wave. Immediately, Reaper is looking past you and glaring at your mentor, tucking Dill behind his back and shaking his head. "Oh." You stop, looking between the two of them and the glare that Coryo is matching. "Never mind, then. I'll leave you to it."

Coryo is already trying to find another option for you, it wasn't looking good. You turn back to him, sighing before plastering a smile on your face, trying not to look too discouraged. "Okay, well..." You look around. "Oh! Lamina. She's lovely." You grab his hand again, but he stays in place as he watches the interaction she's having with Coral and the team she's already forming as they're actively casting Lamina out in favour of the boy from her District.

"Coryo?"

"Not her. Them." He explains, pointing them out to you.

"Oh, I don't know..." You're hesitant, and he understands why, but that's not an option. Without Reaper, numbers would be your biggest safety.

"Safety in numbers." He mumbles, overriding your reluctance and starting to walk their way, pulling you with him.

"Oh, okay. Yeah." You agree, subconsciously cowering behind him. "Actually, Coryo, I'm really not comf-" You speak up, trying to stop his crusade before you're jumping from the sound of an explosion above you.

You both freeze, looking up as the ceiling begins to collapse down on you, more blasts making your ears ring.

Quickly, Coryo is changing directions, running in the opposite direction and pushing you ahead of him as you follow your feet, sprinting toward the light at the door over the shaking ground. You don't last long, stumbling over some already fallen debris and falling. "We gotta go, we gotta go- Y/N, get up!" Coryo is ahead of you now, and you can hardly hear his yelling even though he's right in your face, pulling you back to your feet.

Just as you regain your footing side-by-side, Coryo is the next to fall. As he takes you down with him with the grip on your wrist, you quickly realize it's because a beam fell on his back as the two of you stumbled forward. The flames spreading to the back of his red uniform were the first thing to clue you in.

In your panic and heavy breathing, you can still see his lips moving. You're already trying to pull the bars off of him when he first even gets the chance to scream for help. You groan, inaudible even to you over the commotion as you put all your weight into pulling it back, hoping he's not already severely burned, but you're sure he is as the flames burn the metal rod in your hand.

Your grip slips and you fall back into another piece of the fallen ceiling that surrounded you, apparently sharp as a protruding piece of metal pierces your upper arm. You yelp, looking down as the blood begins to pour from the wound, but you ignore it to keep trying to free your mentor. Then, you're being pulled back by your dress. "The gate is open! The gate is open, come on!" It's Marcus, and by the time you even turn to look at him he's running toward the open door, motioning for you to follow. He gives up quickly as two of the other tributes follow. You don't even hear the gunshots that knock them down. He's trying to escape. You could escape.

You hesitate, looking back down at the boy in front of you who you can see is choking to try and breathe. Someone else slides in at your side as you continue to pull, but they're pushing you back. "Y/N! Run!" Sejanus shouts in your face, quickly removing his hands from you to grab the beam where you were just holding it. "I've got him- Go!"

"My honest, best advice?" Your conversation from the other day immediately comes to mind. "Figure out a way to escape."

You frantically look between the door and the boys in front of you, trying to decide. You have to decide right now. Right now, right now, right-

It's an easy decision. You grab the hot bars again and start pulling with every bit of strength you can muster.

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lovebugism · 11 months

Text

YOU'RE ON YOUR OWN, KID | the beginning.

summary: a year after the end of the world, you and steve share one cigarette and two confessions. (6k)

listen to: "as the world falls down" by david bowie

tags: f!reader, roadtrip fic, friends to lovers, slow burn, mutual pining, angst & comfort, post st4, selective canon divergence (some things happen, some things don't), reader goes by the nickname "scout" TW panic attacks, conversations about grief, steve harrington smokes but he's still hot, outfit inspo (not indicative of what r's body type/skin color/etc.)

a/n: kinda surreal that i'm posting this because it's something i've been working on/thinking about for Months. i put so much time and effort and tears into this series so pleasepleaseplease enjoy it! as always, let me know what you think! let's watch these two (sort of) friends run away and fall in love with each other, shall we? <3

JOURNALS | MASTERLIST | SPOTIFY

★。＼｜／。★

The beginning of the rest of your life starts in the murky alleyway outside The Velvet Lounge.

It’s pretty fitting, actually. You feel like you’re close to dying anyway.

The lightning strike of a panic attack comes first as a cold hand around your throat. The clawed talon of a long-gone monster strangles you — sucks all the air out of your lungs and leaves you gasping for a breath you know won’t come.

A second later and the light-up dance floor beneath your feet begins to sway. You blink, and it becomes the desiccated terrain of the Upside Down — again, and the glowing rainbow tiles return. Eventually, it becomes impossible to discern the real from the imaginary.

You feel a bit like the world’s caving in on itself as you stumble through the bustling crowd. The thumping of the heady bass strums throughout your body as you squeeze between a mob of sweatier ones. The merciless pounding makes you forget that your heart’s no longer beating.

The heavy breeze of a summer night smacks you in the face. There is no fresh air outside the buzzing nightclub, just more emptiness.

You lean against the brick wall, clutching desperately onto your chest as you stumble from the exit. The world around you starts to spin on its side, going blurry like you’re being pulled underwater.

You’re drowning, but none’s coming to save you.

To everyone else, you’re just a girl that’s had too many. The girl that’s lost too much.

You duck into the dark alley with the intention of withering away there.

A warm hand brings you back to life.

“Shit, Scout,” Steve Harrington curses behind you. “Are you— Are you okay?”

You’ve never heard the nickname leave his mouth so gently. You don’t think he’s ever touched you so softly, either. It’s all so foreignly tender compared to the war raging inside your skull — you think it would’ve made you weep if you were capable of catching your breath.

His presence is only startling in the sense that you hadn’t expected to find him there.

It was pretty much the reason you’d slinked through the dimly lit passageway in the first place — to die completely and utterly alone. The flickering orange lamplight and damp brick made this place more adequate for puking college kids, canoodling couples, and conniving Ted Bundy’s of the world. Not pretty Steve and his pretty clothes and his pretty hair.

You’re more humiliated at having been caught than you are alarmed by it.

You figure you really shouldn’t be. He’s already seen you at your worst. On your deathbed, crying so hard you puke, so far gone from the world that you’re practically a ghost — that kind of worst.

But for some reason, his wide palm on your shoulder makes you feel fragile. Small. He stands fathoms above you and you’re nothing but an ant under his sneaker — a little delicate thing he could crush completely if he wanted.

Instead, Steve holds you.

His long fingers cradle your trembling shoulder in a steady embrace. A warm reminder that you’re not alone in this gloomy alleyway that still thrums with life. That, in some ways, you’ve never really been alone at all.

“Yeah,” you answer finally, nodding but not looking over at him. You swallow through a tightening throat. “I just… I just need to, uh… to catch my breath.”

Steve eyes you with a gaze swimming with apprehension.

Your shoulder presses into the rough brick while your other hand clings desperately to your chest. Your fingers dig into the soft cotton of your shirt like you’re reaching for your thundering heart. Each of your breaths is ragged, forced, worked for. You grunt your way through every impossible inhale.

Facing away from him under the dim amber streetlight, he can barely make out your profile. He only gets glimpses of your scrunched face and the tear that glimmers gold on your cheek. But with his hand on your arm, he can feel the rapid up-and-down motion of your heavy breaths. Panic sizzles off of you and onto him like static shock.

“Yeah, it was getting kinda crazy in there, huh?” he says within a halfhearted laugh. “I didn’t know people like Duran Duran so much.”

It’s nothing more than a feeble attempt to get you to laugh.

And it works. Sort of.

You’d lost sight of Steve somewhere around the time “Girls on Film” came on. Nancy’s drunken hand pulled you to the dance floor, and every other tipsy woman followed right behind you. He hadn’t seemed to care much about dancing, though. He just sat in the corner booth with Robin until Vickie came by and stole her away. The last you saw him, he was sitting alone at the bar with a basket of chicken wings before disappearing entirely.

But he hadn’t disappeared, you figured. He was just here, in this eerily empty alleyway, trying to get away from it all just as much as you were.

Steve sees the corners of your mouth quirk upward in a grimacing sort of smile. A scoff sounds from your throat a moment later. He thinks that might be the sort of laugh you get from a girl who doesn’t have much to find humor in anymore.

Your newfound relief is his own.

“You okay now?” he asks once you’ve caught your breath.

You nod and settle back against the brick. The fabric of your shirt sticks to the prickly clay. “Yeah,” you repeat, more truthfully this time. “Thanks— Thank you.”

You’re forced to mourn the warmth of the broad hand on your shoulder when he pulls away from you.

He doesn’t stray far, though. He remains at your side with his back to the brick — his frame much taller than your own, broader too. His woody cologne swirls with the purer scent of a summer night and the distant smell of beer. He holds within him an air that can only be described as all-consuming. He’s exactly the feeling of everything warm despite the several inches that separate you.

Steve offers you the lit cigarette in his left hand, and for a reason you can’t name, his kindness takes you by surprise. You’ve fought a monster with the guy, but he still feels like a total stranger to you sometimes.

He sees you hesitate and thinks that this might be the first time either of you have been alone together. You don’t have anything in common except for the party. Without one of the members to accompany you, the fact becomes a heavier weight to bear.

It’s sort of like a peace offering — this half-gone cigarette. A ‘hey, I know we aren’t really friends, but maybe we could be.’

You take it. “Thanks…”

Steve watches you puff from the stick. You hold the thing between your thumb and forefinger, pinching it as you bring it up to your mouth. The huff you take isn’t a deep one, probably the fault of your still staggering breaths, but your eyes flutter shut on the exhale like you’re grateful for the nicotine fix.

He realizes then that he’s never looked at you before. Like, really looked.

Like a ghost, you tend to blend easily into the background, floating around in the shadows without ever being seen. You’re only out tonight because Robin and Nancy forced your hand, but in your darkened outfit — cropped tee, plain skirt, worn boots, all varying shades of black — you threaten to blend in with the night. You do it all with the finesse of a girl who’s all but disconnected herself from the world.

You catch him staring when you hand the cigarette back.

You don’t look weirded out by his prying gaze — quite the opposite, really. You cower under the attention, chin tilting toward your chest and a sheepish smile hinting at your lips. Embarrassed without any actual reason to be.

“Wanna tell me the real reason you came out here?” Steve asks you, covering the serious inquiry with a joking lilt.

Your brows furrow as you watch him bring the cigarette to his own mouth. He’s got this look on his face — raised brows, wide eyes, and quirked lips — almost like he’s teasing you.

You breathe out an awkward laugh.

“What do you mean? I just told you.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. It looks more like you’re wincing as you shift your weight on your feet. “I just needed to—”

“To catch your breath,” Steve finishes for you, smoke billowing from his pink lips. The grey lingers between you for a moment before disappearing entirely. He nods with a lopsided grin before handing you back the cigarette. “Yeah. I heard you. I just don’t believe you.”

Your eyes go wide. He can’t tell if you’re shocked by his bluntness or if you’re embarrassed at having been caught so quickly. Maybe a healthy mixture of both.

Your throat tightens all over again. You swallow thickly as you turn away from him and it feels like you’re forcing down a too big pill. The back of your eyes burn with unshed tears, so many stinging needles that you force yourself to blink away.

And even though you’re just trying not to cry at the reality of the situation you’ve spent a year hiding from, to Steve it looks like you’re searching for a way out. Your gaze snaps to the opening of the alley where nicely dressed people bustle on the other side, their conversations far away and muffled.

He hadn’t meant to make you uncomfortable. He just thought you could use a friend, considering you were only just recovering from the windswept panic spell.

“Look. You— You tell me why you’re out here, and I’ll tell you why I am,” he offers, partly to make you feel better.

The other half of it, which he finds it startling to admit, is that he doesn’t want you to leave.

He’d spent fifteen minutes by himself in the dark — half comforted by it, half frightened. Despite his distant unfamiliarity with you, he’s weirdly comforted by your presence. Steve’s seen enough people walk away from him to know he doesn’t want you to join them.

You look at him again, more glassy-eyed than you’d been before. Your sniffle is nearly inaudible. “What do you mean?”

He shrugs. “You know… A you-show-me-yours, I’ll-show-you-mine kinda thing.”

It sounds a lot weirder coming out of his mouth than he expected it to. It makes you laugh, though, so it feels sort of worth it.

“That sounds really pervy,” you tease with a more sincere smile.

“Yeah. Sorry. Just— Maybe just ignore that last part, yeah?” he stammers stiffly, laughing softly at himself shortly after.

You finally take a hit from the cig between your fingers. Your gaze falls to your boots.

They were a gift from someone you knew a long time ago — someone you don’t know anymore because they’re gone.

It was a well-loved anniversary present you’ve worn every day since you got them. They’re a bit tattered now, obviously worn on the platformed bottoms. You don’t know how many times you’ve glued the soles back together now — or how many times you’ve tried to wash away the faded bloodstain by the laces that refuses to come out.

It’s as stuck there as the memories in your head are.

And even though you’ve never talked about it out loud, you think you could write a million words about how looking at the stain makes you feel — about all the thoughts that swirl within you at the sight of it and why you can’t throw them out despite it all. You’d write about the boy who bought them for you, whose name it’s still so hard to say — the boy who you loved who was gone.

It was just easier to shove it all down.

You kept your grief horribly discreet, like a poorly stitched-together wound.

If you couldn’t even burden yourself with it, why should you expect anyone else to?

But here Steve goes, offering to let that raging wound breathe.

Something about the ultimatum makes it more comforting. It’s a lot easier to tell a kept secret when you know another hidden confession is coming right after it. You don’t know if you’ll ever get this chance again — to shield your grief with someone else’s.

“Okay,” you answer suddenly before exhaling the gray from your lungs. You outstretch your hand to give him the cigarette back. You try to smile. “You first, though.”

Steve puffs from the stick before he answers you. For a moment, it’s nothing but muffled conversations and a stifled bass that rattles the brick. The quiet is noticeably less suffocating than all the quiets you’ve known before — less lonely now that you’ve got someone to share them with.

“I hate parties,” he summarizes with a shrug.

“Yeah, I’m gonna need a little more than that,” you joke.

He flicks the end of the cigarette to dispel the ash. Grey specks fall to the damp concrete. When he hands it off to you again, your fingers brush his own. Your skin is much cooler than the humid summer air surrounding you.

“I mean, I used to like parties. I think,” Steve explains, still rather vague, gesturing with wild hands like you’re used to. “Really, I just liked to drink, you know? ‘Cause everyone liked me when I was drunk. I was the popular guy — Mr. Funny, Mr. Cool. But, uh… I guess somewhere down the line, I forgot how to have fun like that.”

“Forgot how to have fun?” you repeat with a sad sort of laugh. Your brows scrunch and your swim with sympathy. The streetlamp casts sharp shadows on his chiseled features, but he still looks at you so soft — eyes sweet with the tenderness he holds there and smiling just the same.

It’s hard to believe that the King of Hawkins High could’ve ever felt anything other than total elation when he had a whole ocean outside his front door on Fairview Lane.

“I think they have a name for that these days, Harrington.”

He laughs and turns to press his shoulder into the brick. He’s facing you now, and it feels much more like he’s looming over you.

You remain against the wall, still a bit overwhelmed by the presence of a boy who never would’ve looked your way a year or more ago. It takes everything in you not to duck away from him completely.

“Well, I was only having fun because I was drunk, right?” he elaborates, brown eyes a golden amber beneath the flickering light. They twinkle looking down at you.

“Sure…” you shrug to humor him.

“And, like, I can deal with the hangovers and everything no problem, you know, but the… The waking up the next morning. The remembering, I guess. Remembering everything I was trying to forget when I was drinking. That’s… That’s the worst part.”

You don’t realize how intently you’re looking at him at first. Every quirk of his rosy mouth, every twitch of his bushy brow, every glint of his chocolate eyes as he divulges a deeply held secret doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Behind all the pretty hair and expensive clothes is a boy much sadder than you could’ve imagined.

Something bigger had done a number on him. Something more than the end of the world.

His upturned gaze returns to you and you realize you haven’t blinked once.

You do a rather shit job of pretending you weren’t just staring. You haphazardly turn away again, handing him the cigarette despite not having put your mouth to it.

“Yeah, I— I get what you mean…”

Your words seem to surprise him. His brows pinch like he was more prepared to be made fun of than empathized. He takes the cig from you with an absentminded hand. It goes quickly forgotten.

“You do?”

“Well, not so much with drinking, but… It happens to me in the morning sometimes,” you shrug, feigning nonchalance, and trying not to seem like it’s a phenomenon you’ve experienced every day for a year and a half. “It’s, like, that split second of bliss right before the grief comes back, right?”

Steve blinks owlishly. Then nods.

“That half a moment where nothing bad’s ever happened to you, and it’s just the sun shining on you before the… the bad shit comes back again. Like it never even left.”

And Steve, who’s never met another person who could so easily understand him and that otherwise indescribable feeling so perfectly, is stunned into silence.

Maybe it’s his fault for keeping it all to himself, like a love letter he can’t bring himself to unfold. It’s entirely likely that he could find a million people in the world who’ve felt all the same feelings he’s garnered over the past couple of years. It still wouldn’t hold the same weight as being understood now — being understood by someone who’s been through the end of the world with him.

Being understood without all the empty words.

“Yeah,” he nods finally, clearing his throat. His cheeks glow red when he realizes he’d forgotten to speak because he was too busy looking at you. “Yeah, exactly— Shit!”

The sides of his fingers sting with a sharp ache. The cig in his hand drops to the ground, half the size of his pinky. There isn’t much left of it now, and that’s why it burns him so. It hits the concrete, more ash than stick. The skin of Steve’s finger blackens as it blazes.

“Oh— Are you okay?” you grimace.

Steve snuffs out the burning cigarette with the toe of his sneaker.

“Yeah, I— I just wasn’t paying attention,” he dismisses with the shake of his head, more so at himself than anything else. It’s the first time he’s had an actual conversation with you, and he’s already embarrassed himself twice. He’ll count himself lucky if you care enough to talk to him again.

“Your go, Scout,” he offers suddenly in a measly attempt to get the attention off of him and his blunder. He wipes the ash from his pointer and middle finger on his jeans. “See if you can out-miserable me.”

You roll your eyes at him, still smiling. “What is this? The trauma olympics?”

“C’mon. I’m kidding,” he assures with a lilt. He reaches out to nudge your arm with his knuckles and, like before, his touch is almost too soft for you to feel it. The act of platonic intimacy takes you momentarily by surprise.

His smile is crooked. His eyes glimmer with honey. “I was kidding,” he repeats.

“It was just that, um— that song,” you answer. It comes out more choked than you expected it to. “They started playing that song.”

Steve’s brows furrow. “What song?” he asks. Not pressing. Only curious.

“That one that… that Eddie played when I…”

“Oh.”

“I used to love that stupid song— I mean, obviously. It sorta saved me from what should’ve been an unavoidable death, so…” You manage to laugh at yourself as you ramble.

Steve can’t find it in himself to do the same.

He’d been terrified when it happened to Max — when the kid he was involuntarily babysitting started to float in midair, nearly succumbing to the curse of a monster that should’ve been make-believe. He was relieved when she fell back down again, but you? He was certain you were a goner.

You were too high up and Eddie’s guitar was too far away. The beginning notes of I Was Made For Lovin’ You were too grim and Vecna’s claws were in too deep. You were too distant, too banished.

For several agonizing seconds, you were destined to remain a stranger to him.

But here you are now, sharing cigarettes and secrets.

Your eyes squeeze shut as you shake your head at yourself. “But, um, anyway. Yeah. It’s just… Sometimes things will happen, you know? Like I’ll— I’ll hear a song or… I’ll see something that reminds me of him— of Eddie. And it’s just like…”

“…Like you’re in the Upside Down again?” Steve finishes gently for you when he sees that you can’t.

You nod, wordlessly for a moment, until the words catch up with you.

“Like nightmares, but when I’m awake,” you force through a closing throat. “And they’re so real. Like… I can— I can hear him. I can hear him talking to me, and I’m— I’m holding him, and I can feel him breathing, you know? He’s still breathing, but—”

You take a staggering breath in. For a moment, Steve’s scared you’re tumbling headfirst into another panic attack.

His attentive eyes flit between your scrunched up face and the trembling hands you hold out in front of you. You’re cradling something that isn’t there anymore. You look down at your palms with a horror that tells him you understand that, too — that the person you used to hold isn’t able to be held anymore.

“I can feel the… the blood. And it’s just… It’s all over me. And I’m losing him. I’m losing him all over again—”

You hiccup a measly sob when your lungs force you to take a breath you didn’t know you were holding. It puts an end to your rambling. You’re grateful enough for it. You’d already said more than you were planning to — more than you thought you’d say in a lifetime.

You think you must sound deranged, talking about a corpse like it’s still a warm body you hold every night.

In some ways, it is.

You sniffle and blink back burning tears. Your smile edges on sincerity. “So, what do you think, Harrington? Did I out-miserable you?”

Steve scoffs in the place of a real laugh. “I didn’t have a dog in that fight, did I? What you went through… I mean, I shouldn’t even be complaining.”

“Hey, c’mon,” you scold gently. “We both went through shit. It was all bad, no matter how you look at it. Just because we didn’t go through the same stuff doesn’t mean what happened to you is any less important.”

You just barely catch his cinnamon eyes going glassy before he turns away from you entirely. His stubbled cheeks blotch with varying shades of pink, glowing with an emotion he can’t keep hidden. He looks down at his dirty sneakers because he can’t bare to look at you now.

Understanding, that’s what this is. Understanding without all the empty words.

It’s still hard for him to believe them, though.

In the grand scheme of things, what happened to him wasn’t so terrible.

He wasn’t under any sort of curse. No one he cared about was irrevocably hurt, either. And he didn’t have to hold someone he loved in his arms while they bled to death — doesn’t have to feel like he’s still holding onto them a year after it all.

Despite the marred scars on his mind and body, Steve convinces himself that he has no reason to be sad — even though that’s not really how sadness works. Grief isn’t the kind of thing you can just will away, but he beats himself up when he can’t — when the heartache wins.

It’s a never-ending cycle. A loop he’s been stuck in since he was seventeen. A portal he was terrified would never close.

Now, at least, it feels sort of possible.

“You shouldn’t talk like that, Scout,” he jokes after the urge to weep has passed. He tilts his head to his shoulder and smiles a crooked grin. “I’m gonna start to think you like me.”

Without missing a beat, you retort: “Please, never ever think that. That would completely shatter my reputation.”

You both laugh with the knowing that it’s all just a joke.

You never had much of a reputation because you spent your whole life being invisible. You liked it best that way because never being seen meant nothing was ever expected of you. You’ll happily take someone you went to school with your entire life never knowing your name than any bogus Hawkins High royalty status any day.

Steve, better known by his title of King, wishes now that he’d taken a page out of your book. He learned the power of invisibility far too late.

“Who woulda thought, huh?” the boy sighs, chocolate eyes turned up to the velvet blue sky. “You and me… being friends.”

You arch a brow at him. “Oh, is that what we are now?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steve scoffs like it’s obvious. “They didn’t tell you? You fight monsters together, and you’re bonded for life.”

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. I mean, why do you think me and Henderson are so close?”

“So you’re saying you would’ve never been friends if it wasn’t for the end of the world?” you reiterate with a challenging squint.

“That’s almost exactly what I’m saying. Yeah,” he nods with his pink lips jutted softly out. “If none of that shit ever happened, I’d still be that raging douchebag I used to be. My life would be… so much different.”

“Worse?” you press.

He thinks for a moment.

Without the whole end-of-the-world thing, he never would’ve met Dustin. He never would’ve gotten closer to Robin. Nancy never would’ve had a reason to break up with him, and he figures he’d have long settled down with her by now. They’d be that miserable couple that somehow manages to make it.

He’d probably still be friends with Tommy Hagan, too, getting drunk at parties he’s too old to be at. He’d still be the King Steve everyone loved and hating every second of it.

Fighting monster after monster changed him for the better. Even with its horror, how could he ever take that back?

He winces at the realization. “Yeah…”

“So you’d do it all over again?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“I think so, yeah.” Steve’s smile is shy as he ducks his gaze, peering at you through his lashes. “I’m a total idiot, right?”

Your brows pinch together as you shake your head. “No. I don’t think so… Actually, I think the end of the world looks pretty good on you, Harrington.”

He knows you don’t mean it how it sounds. He gets the feeling you’re talking less about his appearance and more about why he’s standing out here in the first place — talking to a girl he’s halfway known all his life whose name he didn’t know until she almost died.

For the same reason — the one that’s brought you to him and this alley — he jokes back: “It looks good on you, too, Scout.”

Again, you laugh with the understanding that you’re joking. For the most part, at least.

You’re both so weathered with grief, looking much older than your years, forced to wear your woe all over. For whatever transformation the trauma might’ve done internally, it hadn’t done anything on the outside than leave scars that won’t fade.

When the laughter subsides, a silence roars to life.

Not a total one. You can still hear the pounding bass from inside The Velvet Lounge and the muddled chatter of people coming in and out of it. It’s not a totally uncomfortable one either, which is far more than you thought you could ever say about talking to Steve The Hair Harrington.

But it’s still sort of heavy in its way. Likely with the idea of what the both of you know and of everything you’ve confessed out loud.

Now that it’s all out in the open, Steve’s got no idea how to move on. How is he supposed to joke around now? How does he say anything but sorry to the girl who holds all her grief in her eyes?

“Hey, Scout?” he calls quietly.

Your leftover grin hasn’t yet faded. “Hm?”

“I’m… I’m really sorry.”

The smile ebbs entirely.

“Why are you apologizing?” you ask with the shake of your head, almost flinching at the sudden condolence. “You didn’t… You’re not the one that killed Eddie.”

“I know. I just… I feel like I should— like I should say it, you know?”

“That’s the worst part about all of this, I think. Like… you lose someone, and no one knows how to talk to you anymore,” you confess, a sad smile hinting at the very corners of your lips — so soft it’s barely there. Your gaze falls to your boots again. “Everyone just feels so sorry for you all the time. All anyone ever wants to do is talk about what happened like I don’t have to think about it enough, you know? It just… It makes it impossible to move on.”

Steve winces. He can’t ever say the right thing. “I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing,” you tell him, laughing. “I’m not saying that— I’m just… I’m just saying. I think it’d be easier if I didn’t have to stay here. You know, where everything happened. If I could… Like, if I could just go, I think that maybe I could get better.”

“You could,” Steve affirms with a nod.

Your brows furrow. “Get better?”

“Well, yeah,” he shrugs, amber gaze flitting between your glittering eyes and his dirty sneakers. “And… And leave. You know, if you wanted to.”

The thought alone makes you laugh. “By myself? With no car? Barely any money?”

“You wouldn’t have to go alone,” he promises.

“Yeah?” you scoff, still grinning like it’s all a joke to you. “And who would want to run away with a girl with a broken heart?”

He answers without thinking and with a lopsided smile. “The boy with nothing to lose.”

Your smile fades with the heavy weight of his offer.

It isn’t just about running away. It’s about running away together — two people with nothing in common besides a mutual hatred for a dark wizard from the underworld, ditching a town that hasn’t done shit for them, and pretending like nothing’s ever hurt them.

And at first, you’re shocked. Who wouldn’t be with such an offer thrown at their feet? But then, and more than anything else, you’re confused. Why would Steve want to run away? you think to yourself. Why would he want to run away with you?

When the bolt blue finally dissipates, you’re left with a simmering feeling of disbelief.

Steve shouldn’t want this, and he shouldn’t want it with you.

“You’re drunk,” you conclude, smiling because it’s a joke again.

“Yeah. Maybe,” Steve shrugs with his gaze pointed to the sky. The stars are hidden beneath layers of light and pollution. They’re out there somewhere, but he can’t see them — not from where he is now. He looks back to you, a sheepish smile playing on his pink mouth. “But… I’m not.”

“Would you seriously want to leave?” you squint. With me, you keep to yourself, unsaid.

“I’ve, uh— I’ve been wanting to for a while, actually. Even before all of… this,” he confesses, waving his hand out into the ether. He grins in reminiscence, but not the fond kind. “My dad— he’s just been dogging me about work and college and everything, you know? I think he wants me to be the same big shot business douchebag that he is, and I get it, but…”

You lean closer to him, brows furrowed. “But what?” you press.

Steve exhales a sad laugh. “I really don’t wanna end up like my dad,” he admits — a thought he kept like a thorn in his side finally said out loud. “And I’m scared that, if I stay here, I will.”

“So you’ve just been looking for a way out. All this time?” you wonder aloud. While I thought you were on top of the world, you were wanting out of it.

Steve shrugs, then nods.

“And a girl with nothing to lose?” you joke.

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly to himself. “That, too.”

You turn away from him again, deep in thought. Steve mourns your gaze — its attentiveness more than anything, the way you look at him and seem to understand him without saying a goddamn word. He didn’t think that was possible before now.

You think to yourself for a moment. Mostly because it’s something you know you should think about before you do it.

How will you pay your way? Where will you go? What will you do when you get there?

What will your parents say when they notice you’re gone? How long will it take before they do?

Who’ll feed the stray cats outside the trailer park?

Who’ll leave flowers at Eddie’s grave once a month and clean it when it’s ultimately vandalized by assholes who still think he was a mass murderer sent from Hell to do Satan’s bidding?

There’s a lot of questions you don’t have answers for.

What little you do know, though, you’re certain of.

You know there’s nothing left for you in Hawkins.

You don’t have much family — especially not since Eddie — and your friends aren’t really your friends. Sure, Nancy invites you out from time to time, but she’d never call you to dish about secrets and shared trauma in this way. Sometimes you think they only include you because your boyfriend died, and they all saw what it did to you.

And you also know that there’s nothing holding you back but grief. To absolve yourself from it all, to finally move the fuck on, you’re going to have to leave it all behind. It’s not like you’d be missing much anyway.

You’re still a ghost because you live in a soul-sucking town full of people who only want to talk to you when it’s to remind you that the only person you’ve ever loved is dead.

Nothing has brought you back to life quite like this boy and his secrets and offer to run away.

You think you’d been an idiot to walk away from it. From him.

“Fuck it.”

Steve almost flinches at how feverishly you turn to face him again.

His brows raise to his hairline, honey eyes going wide at the abrupt nature of your sudden reply. “…Fuck it?” he echoes, not nearly as confident as you’d said it — just grateful that you’d said it at all.

For a boy who always expects rejection, your innate acceptance of him and his previously kept secrets makes his chest swell with so much warmth that it’s started to burn him. He can feel his ribcage turning to ash and his heart melting as he speaks.

“Fuck it,” you nod, more serious than he’s ever seen you.

You turn to face him fully, something you’d been too timid to do just minutes ago. You’re more sure now — of him, of this. The proximity between your bodies forces you to tilt your head up to look at him. Similarly, his chin falls to his chest to peer at you.

Tucked away in this alley, you’re made of shadows and shades of gold. The lamplight still flickers over your heads. The brick still shakes with the drumming, muffled bass. You don’t realize until now that you can feel your heart beating again.

“Let’s do it,” you shrug with a blast of hopeful anticipation swelling in your chest, more optimistic than you’ve been in a year. “Nothing to lose, right?”

Steve grins.

“Nothing to lose,” he repeats, reminding himself of the fact when reality starts to set in on him. Even if he fails, even if it all goes wrong and he’s waking up in his childhood bed a week from now, he can’t get any lower than rock bottom. Besides, now he’s got you to fall back on, right?

“Fuck it.”

★。／｜＼。★

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #yoyok

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s0lar-ch3ri · 3 months

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what if i wanted to make another insane promo post?

yeah, ik, its promo time again. BUT this time around i do wanna add in the post both my cousin and niece

one thing i did get wrong, heartz is my niece, starz is my cousin! this will basically be going over what each of these 2 do (...and im also adding in a bonus competitor/promoed person, well actually 2 because I GOT A CHANNEL YIPPEE)

each channel will be seperated up so yeah lets go!

first channel:

Starzzz.andgalaxy (my actual cousin, lol) is a great yter who absolutely deserves to be celebrating more then just 170 subs! since shes actually here with me, i can let her say a lil something on the matter:

"hello! I would love to reach 200 subscribers at least, I think my hard work should not be for nothing!" <- her typing

shes very very fun (and also with this i hope all the god damn hate comments shut lol) and does very cool things such as:

Roblox videos

(comment is from me lol, we'll get there soon) For right now these are just rating videos of her avatar, but I find them very fun (plus since I play roblox if needed I can help with filming lol)! Not much to say on it cause it's not a common kind of post, so onto the next form, which is:

2. Art

As you can see, she does very cool art, this one in particular is a tutorial on how to draw bodies. Is it the best? No, but the fact she's trying makes it great! (this is also where I've seen a couple hate comments come up, so yeah, I'm trying to be mature enough to not commit violence for her upon them) She does admit this video isn't her best work, but she does A LOT of very very cool drawings! Go check them out and her channel of course! There is one thing she also posts about which I love most of all...

3. Paper Dragons!!

(the first image is her first dragon, second is her most recent i think) I don't get how these things are "paper furries", but I do know THEY ARE SICK AS FUCK. I got to see one in person and they're very cool, all with different stories! I honestly wanna ask for one but right now, I'm gonna stick with watching them.

Channel link can be found here:

(this section was finished on january first of 2024, so at the point of this being posted she wont be over here, but i had her here so yeah :D i love my cousin)

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Second channel:

Heartzzz.❤️ is my niece, and she does similar content, but still does good content! A couple of videos of Starz and Heartz are them promoting each other, so yeah. While she is on vacation and can't be here to give her reasons to subscribe to you, I certainly can!

Memes

One thing I forgot to mention my cousin doing (well, actually my cousin's section is just kinda old because it's from when she last came over, but she's back to help me again, yay!) is making memes like this. Sometimes they do involve a paper dragon, but I think they're pretty funny and/or relatable (also dragons very cool)!

2. Edits (and Undertale related things)

I'm putting these 2 in the same category just because of the example image above. While my cousin has recently started doing edits, Heartz is the only 1 of the 2 to make anything Undertale related. While the Undertale stuff comes once every blue moon it seems, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.

I actually found in her description a run down on what she does post, so here:

Link to her channel can be found right here:

(okay ik this section was really short, again, she posts similar things to my cousin, and i didnt wanna repeat, so yeah, if you want more reason, here's what the cousin herself says: "[Heartz] is really nice, she's a good artist, and she's creative"; time i finished this section was 1/15/2024 lol)

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third channel:

Boli and gang (or as their original user is + the profile picture says, Boli the bear) is the channel belonging to 2 kids I babysit! They're pretty new to making content, but they have a promising start already! Currently, their content consists of...

Animations

One of them has really been getting into animation, posting things like ball loops and such on their account. They're very interesting to watch personally!

2. Cool places

I'm not sure if this is going to be a common theme, but there is around 3-4 videos of places like this one. I have to admit, this has to be the prettiest of them all.

3. Art (+FNAF/Five Nights at Freddy's Content)

This is another one grouped together, but because this is the first drawing related one I've seen. They're very big FNAF fans, of course leading to things like this. Is it the best? No, but they tried very hard of course, and maybe you could leave some tips for them to improve with!

(they also post memes and funny videos, but I'd rather not do repetition; FINISHED THIS ALSO ON THE 15TH LETS GOOOOOOO)

Link to their channel can be found here:

Oh, one final reason, their profile picture is super cool! Can you guess who made it? This actually provides me with the perfect transition into...

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fourth/final channel:

ITS ME!!! FINALLY I CAN STOP DOING PROPER ASS TYPING

yeah, i have a youtube now, and there's like nothing on it minus a couple videos. all of them are made back in like 2021-2022? cant really remember, but i posted them for younger me's sake. i have like a couple more to get through, but afterwards im probs gonna do a bigger variety of content! art videos, jrwi edits, animations, rambles, essays, you name it! (might even stream again on twitch if that seems what the people like lol)

you may want actual reasons to subscribe, but i currently dont have any. i can only make promises of better future content, but right now i can admit theyre shit. i dont post often, its only oc related rn, all very vague, nothing that interests most people on my blog (cause i know a lot of you are here for jrwi content, huh?). this channel, the choice to subscribe is fully up to you, im not gonna sell myself to it, im simply just saying its real.

Link to the channel is found here:

if you at all took the time to read through my part, i appreciate it, but please do actually check out the other 3. after all, you can always find me here, but you cant find the others anywhere else!

(FINISHED THE REST OF THE POST ON 1/15/24 LETS GOOOOOOOOO)

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bratphilia · 6 months

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one last phone call

summary: Mike calls you one last time while he's on shift.

note: once again written before i actually saw the movie, so there's definitely divergence in what actually happens in the plot.

pairing: mike schmidt x reader

tags: phone sex, dirty talk, masturbation, mention of death, edging? LMAO

... ring ! ... ring ! ... ring !

"Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice messaging system..."

Of course you didn't pick up. It's 4 in the morning for fuck's sake. But there was something important about this call.

"Hey, baby... I'm sorry to call you at such a bad time — I'm awful, I know," Mike says with a small laugh.

"I just wanted to, you know, talk before... nevermind, I'll spare you the details. Uhm, I-uh.. I love you. More than anything in the world. I hope you know that. And I wish I was there with you tonight. I wish I didn't take this fucking job, but I'll do anything to support us. I know that this is... probably the weirdest call you've ever gotten but... I just wanted to... nevermind. I'm not really good at this."

"Anyways... the reason I wish I was there with you right now is... I just can't stop thinking about earlier... how perfect you were, and always are. The way you sucked my cock and swallowed every last drop. The way your thighs framed my head while I ate you out, and the sweet taste of your pussy — I can still fucking taste it. And the way you rode me into oblivion, fuck — I'm getting hard just talking about it. Honestly, I've had a massive boner the whole night... actually, I wonder if I could just..." there's a sound of metal clinking, and the shifting of clothes.

"Ah, fuck," he sighs, "I can't believe I'm doing this here, but I need you so bad right now."

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He says over the phone, his tone is different, dropped down more octaves and his breathing is noticeable. The sound of skin slapping is audible. "I wanna fuck you so bad right now. I wish I was there fucking you instead of sitting on my ass over here, just waiting to die. I want you to ride me again. The way your tits bounce up and down is so fucking sexy. I want to bite your fucking nipples too, so hard that you scream my name and beg me to stop. I love it when you beg me. Like that time I edged you, eating you out and fingering you, until you started crying and whining for me to let you come already, or just fuck you. Shit — ah — wanna hit it from the back, too. Your ass is so fucking sexy from behind. I would grip your hair and push your face into the pillows. We would just fuck, and fuck, and fuck..."

Suddenly, there's loud footsteps. Loud enough that you could hear them from the over the phone. Then the sound of a slam, like a door shutting loudly.

"Fuck me, already? Give it a fucking rest... hah — I think one of those robots just saw my dick, babe. Good, it might shoo them away for the night... kinda shocked I didn't get blue balls from that. Maybe I like being watched. Maybe we'll get one of my friends to come over and watch us. You could put on a real show for them, yeah? Maybe I'll let them take a turn on you... I'm just kidding, I'd never share you with anyone."

"...back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted... I want to stick my cock inside you as soon as I get home. Maybe even while you're asleep. Maybe I'll wake you up by eating your pussy. But for now, I just can't stop thinking about fucking you. The way you feel around me is like my own personal heaven. And the way you clench so it fits tighter, even though you deny it, it's so fucking hot.. and.. and.."

His breathing gets more labored. But there's a banging sound on the door. However, Mike keeps going.

"They're here, you know, but fuck, I'm so close. I wish you picked up — fuck, you could be there to help me. Your voice is all I need to come. You could make me spill with just one sentence, you know that? Fuck, fuck, fuck — no!"

A loud crashing sound resounds over the phone. It's the sound of a door breaking. And then the call cuts off.

You listen to that call the next day, at least a hundred times. You touched yourself to it the first time, but the end made you stop. It haunted you. You clung onto it as closure for what the hell happened to your boyfriend, and why he didn't come home last night.

#mike schmidt #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #fnaf smut #fnaf x reader #mike schmidt x reader

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snek-panini · 1 month

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Today I've got binderary book #3 to share! It's a lighthouse (burning) by books-and-omens. This is a really excellent canonverse (sort of) historical setting liminal ghost story-esque fic that I read practically in one sitting sometime last summer. It's fantastic, well-characterized, angsty and fluffy and fairly plotty and with some really unique worldbuilding. I honestly can't sing its praises enough; it's one of the only times since taking up this hobby that I've known I wanted to bind something before I actually finished reading it.

Have a look at the rest of the photos under the cut; this one came out really well and I'm in love with it.

For this cover we have lineco book cloth on the spine, a strip of chiyogami paper that I got in one one ChibiJay's random paper packs, and blue-gray sketch paper for the primary gray space. It's a little hard to tell in the photos but the HTV for the titles is in two different colors, silver for "a lighthouse" and pewter for "(burning)". The effect is more pronounced in person and I love it. The pewter came in a multi-pack of cricut foil HTV and I can't seem to find it on its own anywhere, which is a shame because it's beautiful. The sort of streaky effect on the cover was unintentional but I'm kinda liking it? It's a more porous paper for drawing or painting or something, and I tried to wax it for waterproofing, but when I used the heat press to get the title on the wax darkened in the spots where the glue was applied to the cover board. At first I was disappointed, but the fic features a really massive unnatural storm, and it sort of looks like water running down a windowpane, so I'm leaning into that and calling it an aesthetic. The back didn't get this heat treatment, so it doesn't have the pattern.

Top view, showing the bookmark and handmade end bands. The bookmark is a navy blue ribbon cut from the inside of a shirt, and I chose red and white because there are so many picturesque lighthouses that have red and white stripes. It's the only color in the book that's not blue or gray. The endpapers are a navy blue silk moire, and I had better luck with them than I did with the platinum ones on my Persuasion bind even though they are the same brand. Maybe it's practice or maybe navy just hides more sins than platinum.

For the title page I went fairly simple (for me anyway) with just a frame I pulled from rawpixel. It suits the story, though, being set sometime around or before the early 20th century. I also played with text colors on the title page, with some words being grayed out to mimic the effect on the cover. The section break is me getting clever with a feature of my printer. I often use a gray line to denote section breaks, but for whatever reason my printer doesn't like them and often makes them blurry. It is only these lines that come out blurry; larger images don't do this even if they are complex. So for this one, where a major feature of the story is trying to figure out what's real and what's a supernatural occurrence, I made one that was deliberately heavier in the center so it would come out sort of smoky or fuzzy, like it wasn't quite real and couldn't be clearly seen. It doesn't look this fuzzy in the unprinted file but I love the effect and I feel very clever for manipulating the printer like this.

I'm going to show off some interior shots but this bit contains spoilers for the story, so if you don't want to see that then maybe skip the rest of the post.

I wanted to get creative with my title placement since a lot of my binds look very similar inside, and this concept really let me try that out. The plot of the story is that the reason there are so many supernatural phenomena at this lighthouse is that someone in the future ran an experiment to harvest energy and accidentally cracked spacetime with it, and bits of the future and the past and the might-have-been are seeping through the cracks, and the longer the cracks exist the more seeps through them and the worse the ghostly stuff gets. At first it's not clear whether there's anything weird happening at all, and it becomes clearer that something is wrong the further in you get because the cracks are worse. So I had this idea for a vintage lighthouse illustration with an overlay of cracks in glass, that become more defined as the story progresses until something is done and they're sealed up in the end. I am not a visual artist and even this straightforward concept was too much for my skills, so I chose the lighthouse and the crack overlay and my amazing husband did the actual image manipulation. There are five different images, with the cracks invisible in the first and final chapter and most visible in chapter 10 and 11, when the characters are trying hardest to fix the problem. I'm really really proud of how well this turned out.

And that's it! I have several more binderary books to post but they are all still waiting for titles before I do the photos, so I don't know when I'll have them up.

#guys i love this book it came out so pretty #though it was a struggle at times #it got trimmed crooked and the gilding had to be scrapped and then the case was too small #so it actually got trimmed like 4 times #totally worth it though i mean look at it #everyone look at the cool thing i made #i'm so proud of it!!#bookbinding #fanbinding #snek makes books #good omens #fic rec

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citruscitrushope · 1 month

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Why Ken Shiraishi is Still Written OK (aka why Vivid BAD SQUAD will never surpass RAD WEEKEND, and why that's a good thing)

An essay I wrote in someone's Twitter DMs as we discussed their belief that Ken's writing has been becoming out of character ever since On Your Feet, and my attempt to present a counter-argument that turned into an analysis of VBS stories up to this point.

1,089 words, warnings for swearing, spoilers, and the fact that this is barely formatted like an essay at all but was just a ramble I thought I gave some good points in and wanted to share.

So bro is openly going against the things that made rw what it was ("ok Toya make all the songs" <- that is not what happened with radder)" and I doubt bro would be full on ignoring it (nor clpl full on ignoring it seeing as they have all of the group's full stories planned from the beginning) and I personally theorize that it's to emphasize the four's strengths as well as to make them come face to face with their weaknesses to grow stronger (I think concerto is the most obvious case of this). Nagi's goal with rw wasn't to make something to be surpassed, it was to pass radder's dream to the next generation to reach the heights they couldn't (i.e. worldwide popularity) and I very much feel like the vbs story has enough backing them going in that direction (Toya's wl chapter, what I've seen of radder flashbacks, even Ken's whole reason for opening weekend garage).

For context, the preceding conversation was about how Ken has been going against a lot of his initial things (Running weekend garage to help the next generation, helping them not work as hard, etc), how he knew Taiga was gonna tell vbs the truth of RAD WEEKEND and that he should first but he didn't, and then how he's been overworking the kids and going against the team effort rw was by radder

Again, clpl kinda suck at writing vbs sometimes but dammit they ain't bad at foreshadowing, they teased Nagi stuff for a year or two before lutf and stuff after all. Plus they've never had a sudden decline with a character, it took two years for Mafuyu's mom to fully be revealed as bad, and even with Taiga that was a solid year. (Now what they do do a lot of are sudden "redemption arcs", sure the Otori brothers' was decent but all the times they've tired to have Shinodad or Toya's dad grow as people has been so bad like bro some people are just shit).

Plus vbs' story has been slower than most of the other units until this current arc (hell they took the longest to end their first arc), slow building blocks to surpassing RAD WEEKEND. So for this current arc to have them saying "our next event will surpass them" so suddenly just doesn't add up. It has to be a red herring. And again, Taiga's been this game's only true betrayal arc, others have been characters going from neutral to bad (Mafumom, one-off characters) or ones meant to be bad that eventually become allies to their respective groups (Arata, Iori, Otori brothers). Taiga going from an explicit ally to an enemy is an outlier, and I've noticed that they usually won't repeat plots and stuff in this game (well outside of Smile of a Dreamer and Our Happy Ending but I think that was on purpose).

I highly doubt that vbs' ending will involve them surpassing RAD WEEKEND, they're probably the only group who's initial goal hadn't changed over time (L/n "I wanna be with my friends again" -> "We wanna be pros that touch others with music". WxS "Let's save this stage" -> "let's travel the world to make our dreams come true" n25 "i need to save mafuyu" -> "she's seemingly saved but shits still tucked"). Even MMJ's which has seemed to always be "Let's be idols and give hope to others" has had steps to go through, it wasn't instantly "Let's perform in the dome" it was "Let's be idols" -> "let's do a live show" -> "let's do a solo show" -> "let's perform in the dome". VBS hasn't been like that, it's always been "let's surpass RAD WEEKEND" and never been anything but that, so their progression has just been them saying "this'll get us closer to surpassing RAD WEEKEND" with little to actually show for it.

It's a lofty, impossible task, and I think Ken and Taiga know that, but they view it in different ways. Taiga sees it as "you'll never live up to it give up stop trying" while Ken's is "you'll never live up to it but that doesn't change that you're still talented performers". Even though how characters always compare each other to radder (An and Taiga seeing Nagi in Kohane, Taiga seeing Ken in Akito) , they're not radder, they'll never be them, and I feel like that's what the story wants to have them and the audience eventually realize. That's what Nagi wanted, right? To have the next generation do what she and the rest of radder couldn't, to keep singing and to be known around the world. They've already contrasted how both Taiga and Ken have attempted to keep Nagi's wishes alive before (i.e. the whole "Don't tell An until she's ready" thing), and Ken handled this better than Taiga but both weren't the best at it, and vbs had to find the strength themselves to keep going. Taiga did it in a brutal and dream-crushing way, while Ken's was gentler and more honest but came too late, and I feel that they wouldn't get rid of that contrast with Nagi's other dream. Taiga ran off and became famous overseas, but never fully processed his grief. Ken is encouraging the next generation, but still isn't doing it perfectly.

So I feel that Ken's plan is to show vbs *their* strengths. The ones only they have. Not in the context of reaching radder's level, but in reaching their own, and truly fulfilling Nagi's wish. He's not doing it perfectly, he's overworking them severely, but I highly doubt that this is purposeful. Again, I just don't think they'd make the dilf have a villain arc.

But nothing anyone has done in response to vbs's dream has been perfect. Even from the main story with akitoya and Kotarou sabotaging Kohane, to Arata in sbd, to Taiga to Arata in bfby, and then lutf is obvious. It's a messy tale of unprocessed grief and unfiltered dreams, things that can lead to both triumph and tragedy. But I truly can't see any malice in Ken's actions, or even Taiga's to an extent. While there obviously was some there, to him I assume it was to protect the legacy of his sister and to not tarnish her swansong.

I don't fully know where I was going with this but all in all I think Ken has good intentions albeit with unintentional extreme expectations, VBS was never meant to surpass RAD WEEKEND, and the vbs story's messy pacing lately is purposeful

#project sekai #vivid bad squad #ken shiraishi #mine ☆#if the person whose dms this in wants this taken down lmk and i'll do it

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imahinatjon · 17 days

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Doubt

Dazai x Reader

I Don't like sad/bad endings.

PART 1

"Osamu,

I'm leaving this short letter for you to read when you wake up. By now you should already know I'm not there. That's because I've left. During the night. I came to a conclusion that our relationship was not working, we weren't working, we don't belong together. It hurts me to say this, but it's true. I'm sorry. For leaving like this, but I'm afraid it's the only way. I'm sorry. I really am.

Love, YN"

Of all people is was Kunikida who came to see him. Of course, Kunikida's reasons weren't born from concern, but rather, annoyance. Dazai had missed work. Only for a day but, well, we all know how kunikida is with his schedule.

So of course he went to drag Dazai off to work.

Knocking the door felt wrong though. Call it a detectives intuition, but something was up. Something had happened, and it probably wasn't good.

So he let himself in.

The atmosphere was dark, sour. All colour and life drained from the small apartment shared by two.

Dazai wasn't hard to find either. He was sat quietly in the living room, thinking to himself. He didn't even flinch when Kunikida approached.

The letter was on the floor, inviting the blonde to invade the privacy of the couple living here. He didn't think Dazai would mind.

"Where are they?"

"I don't know"

"Why did they leave?"

"I don't know"

"What happened"

Dazai was silent then. He didn't know what happened. But had been forming an idea in his head on what it could have been.

"I'm not sure..."

"But I might need a favor"

Had this been anyone else who just up and went missing, Dazai would probably be able to find them. But, he wasn't in his best heads pace.

Even back in the office he was still somewhat moping around, despite the usual facade he tried to keep up.

If anyone could find where you went, it was Ranpo...

And probably anyone who was actually thinking properly.

"They went 'home'"

"Home? Wh- ohhh"

"Back to their parents, Guarantee that's why they quit their job too"

"Wait, quit?"

"Hmm. Fukuzawa hasn't exactly put that through yet though. Keeping the decision on hold"

Of course. If you'd come in and quit out of the blue, they were going to know something was up. And they wouldn't be just letting you go without so much as a question.

Now he knew where you were though. Back with your parents.

He knew something happened when you visited together. That your mother probably gave you an idea that had plagued your mind. He just wished he'd asked about it when he had the chance. Maybe you would have spoken to him?

No time for that now though. He had to go over to see you.

Convince you to come back.

Your parents house wasn't too far away. So he was knocking on the door in no time.

Your mother looked around thr sitting room, having heard the door knock. She rolled her eyes and reluctantly stood from where she sat, opening the door with a subtle scowel on her face.

"Oh, Dazai... right? What is it?" She asked, trying to ease her face somewhat.

"Is YN here? I need to see them"

"Yeah... what did they do this time?" she huffed

"Nothing. We just need to talk"

"Hm"

"Please?"

"No"

"It's not really your choice"

"Look, if they haven't reached out to you, then ovbiously they don't want to talk. So get off my doorstep... and don't bother knocking again"

This was not the woman he met that day.

Dazai stepped back, not really wanting to cause a scene. He didn't want to deal with your mother, he wanted to deal with you.

So he made his way around the back of the house, finding his own way to see you.

"Who was that?" You asked your mother, walking out of the kitchen to where she just sat back down.

"No one important"

"Kinda sounded like Dazai...?"

"If you knew that then why did you bother asking?!" She snapped.

You discreetly rolled your eyes and walked out. Heading up to your room, you noticed your door slightly creaked open.

You knew who it was. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't exited. But you were nervous, afraid of the consequences of just leaving the way you did.

Swallowing the nervous bile rising in your throat you opened the door fully, stepping inside your room to face the man you loved so dearly.

You don't even question how he got in.

"YN"

You didn't say anything, just stood beside the door, keeping your distance.

"YN"

He called you again. You should go to him. Talk to him, sit beside him. His face doesn't let you in on how he's feeling, but...

You needed to ask him. You hated this feeling of uncertainty.

"I'm sorry" you said. Shutting the door behind you, and leaning nervously against the wall beside it.

"I had to... y'know..."

"Why?" He couldn't fathom why you had to leave.

"Didn't you read my note? I told you, it wasn't right! The relationship, it just wasn't working"

"Then we make it work!" He didn't raise his voice, he didn't want to be discovered by your mother downstairs, but the expression he let slip was shouting, desperate. Only to be hidden behind an unsettling calm once again.

He released a breath "we talk about what's wrong, why you don't think it's working, and we make it work... unless..." He didn't even want to think about that option, but had to accept it was a possibility, so with a quiet voice, he asked

"Unless you really don't love me"

Your breath caught in your throat. He thought that? Really?

"It's not that dazai. I love you, more than anything. I want nothing more than to be by your side for an Eternity, but I know that it can't happen. I know I'm not good enough, I know I don't do enough, I know I'm useless, I know I'm difficult, and I know you don't love me the way I love you. I can't do that to you or myself" you curled in on yourself, sitting on the floor as you let your feelings spill to him, as you told him your truth.

"I can't selfishly keep you tied to someone like me"

Dazai stared at you for a while, contemplating what you had said.

It was as though you were reading his thoughts. You told him exactly what he'd been thinking. But... those were your thoughts?

"Whoever told you that?" He whispered, sad smile coming to his face and he moved to kneel down infront of you.

"Who said you weren't good enough? When have you ever beeb lazy? Or useless? Your everything to me, and more, your perfect, for me, to me..."

He held your hands up in his own

"How is it selfish to love a man who loves you tenfold"

"I'm... you what?"

"Surely you weren't so silly as to think I didn't love you? I asked you to live with me, I asked you to date me for a reason"

"And thinking back... you must have said yes for a reason?" He asked

You couldn't answer, words caught in your throat, tears threatening to spill. So instead, all you did was launch forward, wrapping your arms around his neck to hide and cry into his shoulder.

You should have spoken to him sooner. Maybe this would have been avoided.

Dazai gently stroked your hair, and held an arm around your back. He wasn't about to interuppt you. But... he'd probably have too soon.

"How about you gather your things and we go back home?"

Pulling back go wipe your eyes you nodded, smile small but present.

He helped you put the few small things you took with you in a bag. He climbed out of your window (telling you how he also got in) and took your bag with him.

You headed downstairs to leave through the front door.

"Where you going?" Your mother asked, standing in the living room doorframe.

"Out"

She raised an eyebrow

"Whatever" she childishly huffed and walked off. Leaving you to your own devices.

So you left.

*extra*

Kunikida sat impatiently in the car, tapping on the steering wheel waiting for you and Dazai. He came along because he was a concerned for your mental heath and wellbeing (and maybe Dazai's too) but now he wished he hadn't, as he waited for you two to get in the car, instead of standing outside hugging and sharing a few pecks and laughs like you spent a whole year a part.

It's been a day! Nearly 2!

When you did eventually get in the car, he was already speeding off, desperate to get back to work.

But not before telling you

"You two really need to work on your communication"

_________________________________________

Not yet proofread.

Masterlist :3

#imagine #fanfic #bungou stray dogs #x reader #dazai x reader #bsd dazai #bungou stray dogs dazai

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