#and i just felt like people were being so much nicer and friendlier to her even though they haven't seen her in 3 years than they ever | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cocobutnochanel · 3 years

Text

The Kims | 18+

Genre: smut, angst, romance, au, drama

Main Characters: Kim Minseok, Kim Junmyeon, Kim Jongdae x Reader (oc: female)

Warnings: swearing, sex scenes, slavery(not literally iguess), mentions of death, mentions of abuse, abandonment

Summary: When you thought life wasn't a fairytale and you were no Cinderella, truth slaps you in the face when you become an orphan overnight and your step-family sells you off to the richest family in town.

Word Count: 2.6k+ words

Part 1

(Part 2, Part 3)

‘Live, baby. Live your life to the fullest.’

You can still hear your eomma's last words to you before she passed away. It kept replaying in your head ever since she was announced dead.

She was the only family member left. You were an only child whose father was also dead. Life may have not been in your favor exactly but you came from a rich family. At least, that made up for it.

You feel hot tears run down your face when you see your mother's face inside a coffin. Sadness, anger and longing wash over you. You knew your mother's health was getting bad but you weren't expecting her to leave you just like that.

"Y/N! Get your stuff sorted!" You hear your stepbrother, Oh Sehun, scream from the second floor of your house. You were suspicious as to why he was in your room and touching your things but you shrugged it off. Your stepfather would kill you if you said something bad about his sons.

You ignored the the strangeness of the situation and immediately climbed upstairs. "Coming!" You called, wiping your tears away. You hear Chanyeol, your other stepbrother, chuckle at the sight of you crying. You just sigh and make your way to Sehun who wouldn't stop shouting your name now.

You knew it was strange that he was in your room but what surprised you was him stuffing your things inside a suitcase.

"Oppa! What are you doing?" You exclaimed, running to your room that became a mess after what he did. Your hands were trembling as your eyes scanned your things that were half-ruined now because of your stepbrother. You quickly get on your knees to see your belongings now scattered on the floor.

You look up to him, looking for some sort of explanation but his eyes were dead and he refused to say anything. God, this frustrated you so much.

You feel another presence in the room so you whip your head around and see Chanyeol leaning on the doorframe. "Appa's getting rid of you finally." His icy deep voice was enough to scare you, the idea of moving out made you want to faint.

You tried to control your breathing as you see Chanyeol smiling at your state. "Please don't." You begged shamelessly and that earned another chuckle from Chanyeol. You bit your lip so hard, you tasted blood in your mouth.

Moving out? Getting rid? The hot tears you wiped off your face earlier came back in a split second. The Ohs weren't exactly nice to you but they were all you had after your mother passed away. No relatives, no family friends, no anything. This house was the only roof you could go under. Fuck, the world outside was meaner than the Ohs could ever be. It terrified you beyond belief.

"I'm sorry." An emotionless apology from Sehun didn't make it any better. You spent almost eight years with them ever since your eomma married your stepfather when you were barely eleven. "Appa was struggling with the funds when your mom was sick. He had no choice but to borrow money and now, he couldn't return it. The only way to pay it was to send you there." Your eyes widen at his reason. It was absolute bullshit.

"B-But my trust fund! It could pay the debt, right? Shouldn’t we call the family lawyer first?" You try to find another reason to stay but Chanyeol cut your thoughts off with his voice. "Pack it up, Cinderella, you don't have all day." With that, he walked out of the room.

With slumped shoulders, you fall to the floor. You were defeated in all aspects. You lost your mother and now, you had to lose your home and only family too.

"I don't understand it at all. I had a trust fund. That would be enough to pay off eomma's hospital bills." You whispered as your heart ached. You tried to look at Sehun again but his eyes were emotionless. You knew he was the kinder brother to you despite being whiney but what you couldn't believe was him lying to you right now. Your trust fund was more than enough. Also, your mother’s company wasn’t going bankrupt for your family to reach this measure.

"You really need to pack up, Y/N. Appa would be fuming if he went home and you're still here.." Sehun said, pushing your suitcase nearer to you. It might hurt that these people you consider family are sending you to some stranger they borrowed money from but Sehun made a point. "You know it'd be bad to anger Appa." He retaliated.

That woke you up. Your stepfather may have not laid a finger on you before but he spat so many hurtful words. He had the shortest temper and you weren't sure that he wouldn't hurt you physically now that your mother was dead.

With his anger management issues and hugeass body, he could kill you with his bare hands. That urged you to stand and start stuffing your suitcase with as much clothes as you could.

Your tears eventually dried and Sehun left your room. Your knees and hands were trembling like they were earlier but that didn't stop you from packing your things. The imagery of your angry stepfather's huge figure made you go on. It was fear that made you want to live even if your whole life was as trashy as it was already. After all, this was all your mother wanted before she died. For you to live.

After putting all the stuff you needed inside your bags, you quickly scurry off to the entrance of your house. You had no idea where you would be going but staying in this house also meant you'd die. You had to try your chances that the people your stepfather is indebted to is somehow less cruel and would not kill me. Wherever it was, you tried to assure yourself it'd be better than staying here.

"Hey, Cindy! A carriage is waiting outside for you." You hated the new nickname Chanyeol gave you but you knew you'd never see him again in your life. You guessed. These people would never let you go without paying the debt and you know your stepfather would never do that. That thought dismissed all the anger in your head for him.

You drag your luggage outside and see a black car. This must be the carriage Chanyeol was referring to. It looked very expensive and it was also heavily tinted. Whoever your stepfather was indebted to, they were filthy rich.

You hesitated as it approached you. Was this right? Your mother's dead body was lying in your living room right now. You should be weeping instead of running away. You haven't even had the chance to grieve yet here you are, being kicked out of the house you grew up in. The house you made memories with. The only home that you ever knew.

The hesitations quickly evaporated as you heard your stepfather's Range Rover approaching. You knew that engine sound all too well. You have hurried off to your room a lot when you were younger whenever you got in trouble with your stepdad. So instinctively, you ran to the black car's door, never looking back at the home you once had.

Your hands stopped shaking and you finally started to breathe properly as the black car pulled out of your home's driveway. Your stepfather’s Range Rover was already out of earshot and you knew you were safe. For now.

Doubts and overthinking clouded your mind. You wanted to be afraid and scared at what might await me. But also, you couldn’t go back home. Your head hurt after so much thinking, you dozed off inside the car as the worries now left your troubled mind.

You felt a nudge on your shoulder, pulling you to consciousness. Your eyes slowly flutter open as you try to sit up properly. "We're here.." You heard the driver say. He was a white-haired guy my age. He also gave me a smile and tried to help me up.

"Where are we, sir?" Your voice was hoarse and the car door flew open beside you. It revealed a grand mansion in front of you and it earned a gasp from you.

You see a man walking by the entrance of the huge manor. His tall stature demanded attention and you automatically assumed he was the owner. With that classy tuxedo and refined posture, you knew nothing about him was cheap.

He suddenly turned around and your eyes widened at that. As if his money wasn't enough to make him intimidating, he had a perfect face. It may have a permanent scowl but you couldn't deny his face was truly perfect. Tanned complexion, defined jaw, plump lips and thick eyebrows. He was definitely handsome.

"Who are you to look at me straight in the eye?" His voice was deep and authoritative and loud enough to snap you out of your thoughts, it surprised you. His scowl even grew which made you bow your head and quickly apologize. "I'm sorry." You mumbled, the fear of death immediately taking over your senses.

"Be nicer." Another voice interrupted that made you look up. A man with a child on his arm went out of the house, standing by the door. He wore a similar suit to the man who was scowling. Another handsome man, you thought. He looked older but no less handsome. He also looked friendlier as a little girl bounced in his arms.

This man was definitely kinder, you could safely assume. His eyes were soft despite his features being sharp and his thin lips had a pressed smile.

The scowling man passed by him and went inside the huge house. You could only look at his leaving back, hoping you didn't piss him enough to get yourself killed. You couldn't possibly die the first day you're here.

"Hey, get inside. I'm sorry for that. My brother's just wired that way." He offered a smile as the little girl in his arms looked at him adoringly. You nodded at what he said, trying to take in the information. His kind smile was nothing compared to the previous man’s scowl. Their air was too different. "Let her inside, Baek. We’ll be at the study." He nodded at the driver before going back inside his room.

The driver who was named Baek started carrying my bags. "No, it's okay." You try to take it away from him but he insists. He carried your luggage inside the house to the large living room.

The house was so large, it was nothing compared to your home before. Marble walls made everything stand out in elegance as the paintings that graced it made it warmer to the eyes. The furniture was obviously expensive despite its basic structures. The grand staircase that led to another floor also made it seem like it’s a palace.

Baek snapped you out of your awe by entering with your bags. He set it down by a sofa. "I'm Baekhyun and I'm the errand boy here." He gave you a toothy grin which made you smile back at him. "It's hard to find a friend here but I assure you, I can be your friend." You nodded like a seal at what he said. You knew you needed help and an offer like this isn't something you can pass up.

"I'll find time to talk to you and all but the bosses need you at the study right now. They'll decide whether what to use you for." You look at him in confusion. He immediately gets the message and tries to clear up the confusion. "Your family is in a debt and now, this family owns you. The Kims. You have to be of use to them. We’re considered as slaves here but it doesn’t really sound that bad. It’s just working without pay but with absolute loyalty." You were surprised at what he said. How could he know? You didn't tell him anything. Also, the fact that you were called slaves sounded wrong to you. It seemed inhumane despite what Baek tried to explain.

He looked at me as if he was sorry. “It’s okay. I know cause it happened to me and all the others too. I will explain soon since I’m always the one hanging around here but right now, you have to go to the study. They will decide how to use you before they let you settle in. Now, go, okay? You don’t want to anger the youngest Kim.” He was talking while he dragged you at the end of the first floor’s hall. The information was too much to take in and before you knew it, you had to face your new bosses now. Or owners. You have no idea how to refer to them.

Baek turns the doorknob swiftly as he stands straighter than he did when you two were alone. He looks back at you once last time and assures you with a look as he entered the quiet room. "Young masters, the new girl is about to get in." You hear someone say to bring you in and Baek immediately ushers you inside.

The room they called study was large and carpeted. It was filled with books and tables. The air inside was also warmer than it was in the hallways.

Baekhyun pointed to the center and I immediately got the signal. Baek left as you finally got to where he wanted you to stand. You stood there, in front of four men in suits. Their eyes were examining every inch of you and it made your skin crawl. The black dress you were still wearing for your mother's funeral wasn't exactly pretty. The thought of showing your makeup-less and swollen face to four dashing men who were supposed to be your new bosses didn't make it any better.

"Jun-hyung, what do you think?" The guy with a baby girl earlier spoke up first and asked a man in an all-black suit. You wanted to keep your eyes on the floor but they were too handsome to peel your sight off them.

This man called Jun looked angelic yet his face was stoic. He had a gentle aura but something about him warned your gut that you should be extra careful around this man. Nonetheless, it amazed you how four extremely good-looking men could be in one room. You suddenly recall Baekhyun’s words and they were the Kims. Must be a family. Amazing genes, you couldn’t help but think

"She has no special talents mentioned in her file." You wince at that Jun guy's comment, quickly waking you up from the daydream you just had about these gorgous men. You realize you were just an average human which is basically why your stepfamily didn't want to keep you. You weren't talented, intelligent or creative.

You were also surprised that you had a file already with them. But then, it was your stepfather we were talking about. He would go to hell and back just to get rid of you

"She's pretty. I want her. Can I keep her, Jun?" You looked up at the person who spoke. It was a man who gave a different vibe. He looked very playful with his exotic face features but something told you he was just as dangerous as the other two. The man with a baby in his arms didn’t really scare you as much as the scowling man did. The other similarity he had with the rest was the expensive suit he was wearing.

He takes a good look at you before speaking. "Jun, I want her. You know we need a new plaything." He spoke with finality, smiling at you. You didn't know what he meant and your puzzled face gave off what you were thinking. "He wants to fuck you, dummy." The scowling man glared at you with so much intensity as he solved the confusion in your head.

Fuck me? Plaything? These words resonated in your head. You didn't know how to react. How was somebody supposed to react to someone wanting to fuck them?

"We don't do that anymore, Minseok-hyung." The Jun guy sighed, his eyes filled with pity as he stared at you. He really does look angelic, you thought. You snapped out of it again and bit your lip as you put your head down, not knowing what to say.

"We can if we get her consent." The guy with exotic features who seems to be named Minseok shrugged. He looks at you with so much determination once again. "Hey, what's your name, again?" He speaks again and you widen your eyes at his question.

"U-Um.. Y/N." You stuttered with so much fear. You really didn't want to die at all. You know you had to do whatever they wanted just to stay alive. Living was so meaningless like this but you didn't want your mother to be disappointed in you for just giving up. If these men returned you home, your stepfather would kill you.

"So, Y/N, is it okay if we have sex with you from time to time? We really need the stress reliever." This Minseok guy smirked again. His directness shocked you to the core. You had to say yes, right? If you didn't, they'd kill you? Or torture you? Or return you home? None sounds appealing to you.

You really have no choice...

"I-I'd like t-to be of help to you with a-anything." You fiddled with your fingers as you said this. You were nervous as hell and hearing the scowling man's chuckle made it worse.

"See, she's okay with this, Jun!" Minseok exclaimed with a huge grin on his face, eyeing you up and down. He patted Jun’s back and smirked at the scowling man. You weren't really opposed to what they wanted. They were handsome and you wanted to be alive, nothing more or less. You weren’t usually this shallow and easy but your eomma’s words keep ringing in your ears. You had to be alive.

"I guess it's settled then." The man with a baby girl earlier gave you an apologetic smile and stood up. You were about to walk out but the Jun guy spoke once again. "Tell Baekhyun to show you the available room on the fifth floor." He nodded at you. You were about to walk again but then something interrupted.

You heard the scowling man beside him laugh, stopping your tracks again. "Jun, you're really treating your whores right." He smirked and looked at you as if he was belittling you. You shuddered under his sight. He was truly intimidating, he had a different air to the other men. He was blunt and he never hesitated.

"You should leave now. Never mind his foul mouth." The guy with a baby waved off to you. Once again, this man has made your arrival here warmer. You nodded at them with finality and got out of the room as you heard Jun scold the other guys. “Jongdae, thank you for being nice today but treat slaves as they should be treated. Jongin, stop being mean. You’re being irrational.” He authoritatively announced to the two boys, making you assume he was the leader or something.

You close the door behind you with a final thud. You see Baekhyun leaning at the wall beside the study. He immediately went up to you.

"So, how did it go?" You didn't really know how to answer this question. How would you explain to someone that you agreed to fucking people?

"U-Uh.. That guy named Jun told me to tell you to show me the room on the fifth floor?" You said with so much uncertainty, chewing on your bottom lip. His eyes were as large as saucers and his jaw dropped the moment you say this aloud. He couldn’t believe himself either.

Baekhyun shook his head in disbelief and tried to be as calm as he could. "What the hell did you agree to?! They never let slaves like us in the fifth floor! What more live there?" He asked in a hushed yet raised tone. He briskly dragged me to an elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor.

"Well, the Minseok guy asked me if I could help them sexually? I guess?" What you just said earned a loud gasp from Baekhyun. Your cheeks heated at the mention of this. "Holy shit..." You heard him mutter a curse and honestly, you couldn't help but agree. Non-survival you would never agree to anything like this but this is the new you. You had to survive. For your mother’s wishes and for your own good too. This time, Baekhyun looks at you with so much amusement.

"You're in for a fucking ride."

180 notes · View notes

gr0vndz3ro · 4 years

Text

Safe Haven

Warnings: Cursing, slight emotional/ mentally manipulative relationship

Word Count: 3,259

Crossed off: Protective Hug

Prompt: "You don't have to talk about it, let me just hold you."

Tag List: @keigod @dragonhrte @mrs-takami-keigo @fanfic-me-up @gallickingun @royal-after-dark @hawks-senseis @bnhabookclub @pixxiesdust @diorsho

A/N: Hey I know this isn’t exactly what you had asked for but I got really inspired while writing this. I hope that you like it because I found it really fun to write!!

Even though you showed up at this shop at the dead hours of the night, it always surprised you that they were still open. Seeing as you would show up anywhere between 10pm to 4 am, unable to feel at ease in your own home. Due to the time you showed up, you typically were the only customer in the place, minus the few heroes that would stop by for expressos to keep them awake through their shift. No one ever bothered you as you wrap yourself in a blanket and tucked yourself into your own little world in the corner of the shop. So you could imagine your surprise when one day someone approaches you.

Tonight was Bakugou’s first shift in this area. He had done thousands of patrols before, being one of the top 10 heroes, but every time he got assigned a night shift, he always found himself filled with dread. He was the furthest thing from a night owl, much preferring to get in his much needed beauty rest and getting to bed no later than 9 pm. So if he was going to get through a 10-7 shift, he was going to need coffee, and a lot of it.

While roaming down the streets of this seemingly peaceful neighborhood he came across a run down coffee shop. He almost passed it, barely even being able to tell it was open, the only hint of life being the small sign in the window and the few lights that were on inside. Pushing open the door, a little bell chimed upon his entrance, allowing whoever was there to know of his arrival. He stepped inside the shop, the door slowly closing behind him as he traveled over toward the counter to try and order a drink. When he made it there, he took the time to take in his new surroundings, cozy chairs with little tables littered the place, along with solo chairs that were covered in pillows next to what seemed to be a worn down bookshelf with tattered books filling it. As his eyes moved across the interior décor, he almost missed the person that was seated in the very corner of the place, blanket around their body with a mug delicately placed on a little side table, an arm's reach away. Slightly startled by the presence of another person in the place, he didn’t realize that the barista had finally arrived at the front counter.

“Hello, what can I help you with tonight sir?” A young voice said making the grown man jump. Slight anger filling him at this person being able to catch him off guard.

“AH- didn’t anyone teach you it’s rude to catch people off guard like that?” He glares at the boy behind the counter.

“Oh did I scare you mister Ground Zero sir?” A smirk across the teenagers face as he leans on the counter.

“I swear if you weren’t a kid I’d kill..” Bakugou mutters under his breath before taking a deep breath. “Just give me the strongest drink you’ve got, and add an extra espresso shot.”

“Alright one americano with an extra shot of espresso coming right up. Good luck sleeping.” The young teen then walks off to make the drink for the Pro. As Bakugou waits for his drink to be made, he feels his gaze fall back onto the person seated in the corner. They seemed unfazed by the presence of another person in the shop, the only way he even knew the person was conscious was because of them adjusting the blanket around their body. What was a civilian doing in this place at a time like this? Just as he was going to make his way over to the person in the corner, a voice stopped him. “Alright here you go sir, your total is $3.50″ Placing a ten on the counter, he grabs his drink and turns toward the door, curiosity taking over him as he makes his way out of the coffee shop.

You could imagine his surprise when he returns to the same coffee shop at 1 in the morning, to see a young woman sitting in the same chair the stranger had sat in 2 days prior. Ordering himself the same drink as before he can’t tear his gaze away from her.

“She’s always here around this time. It’s like her little safe haven so we never tell her to leave.” The boy speaks up, causing Bakugou to look away from her. He raises his eyebrow, wondering what he was talking about. “I just noticed that the last time you were here you couldn’t stop looking at her and since you were doing the same this time you might be interested or something. A fair warning though, I’m pretty sure she’s seeing someone, even if he is an asshole...” The last part of his sentence trailing off as he said it more to himself. He turns away from Bakugou to grab the finished drink before telling him his total and handing it over. He pays and takes the drink with him as he makes his way back outside of the little shop.

Yet another few days pass and he finds himself walking inside of the barren café. His head immediately turning to the left spotting the woman curled up in the chair in the corner. But as he took a step toward the counter, his feet betrayed him and carried him over to where she sat. When he arrived right next to where she was, she didn’t even seem to notice he was there, completely lost in her own thoughts. So when he cleared his throat he could have swore she could have gone through the roof with how hard she had jumped.

“What the hell are you doing up at this time. Don’t you have better things to do then be here in the middle of the night?” He questioned her, his tone coming off much harsher as his currently tired state hadn’t had any coffee yet. He never felt bad about how his words might affect someone, but watching the way she flinched at his cold demeanor, made him immediately feel riddled with guilt. He lowered himself down to her side to try to attempt to look friendlier as he spoke up again. “Um, I’m- sorry? I haven’t had any coffee yet and I guess you could say I’m not much of a night owl. I had just noticed that every time I’m here, you’re over here in this damn corner and I just wanted to know why the hell you’re even up at this time and not asleep like every other normal person would be.”

You slightly untuck yourself from the cozy blanket you had wrapped around your form to make eye contact with the man that was now standing by your side. Your eyes met his own as you watched his face contort as he attempted to sound nicer. You could feel a smile wanting to spread across your face, but the memories of the fight you were in just mere hours ago made quick work to stop it from happening. But when the stranger’s head tilts to the side, similar to a confused puppy, you couldn’t help the chuckle that passed your lips.

“Well as hard as it may seem to believe, some people in this world are actually more night people.” You fake a smile onto your face so as to not scare off the stranger, but he doesn’t seem to fall for it for a second.

“Yeah well that’s bullshit, why is it that you are you actually here at..” he pauses looking past me to glance the clock mounted on the wall, “fuckin 2:43 am. You’re just sitting here in this chair, why don’t you just head home?” The smile that was on your face quickly falters as you think back to your house and what laid waiting for you in your sheets.

“I- I like it here better at night. I don’t sleep well.” You stare into your mug, the drink practically empty after drinking most of it over the time you’ve been here, yet the brown liquid suddenly seemed 100x more interesting than it was just mere moments before. He pauses, thinking for a moment before responding.

“You got one of those sleep disorders?” His eyebrow raises but you don’t see as you continue looking into your drink.

“Yup, and it’s fast asleep under my sheet right now.” A look of confusion takes over his face as he tries to understand what you mean. But you shake your head and put a smile back onto your face. “I’m just messing around, but yeah I guess I do. It’s not that big of a deal though I just like coming here. It’s like my happy place almost. You know, kinda like the place where I can just go and escape all the crap in my life and just breath. Honestly feels like I’m just suffocating sometimes and it gets so hard being around him I just.. oh my god I’m rambling. I’m so sorry. You’re a complete stranger and you don’t want to be hearing all of this.” A look of slight horror taking over your face as you realize you were spilling out all of your personal life to this complete stranger. Yet as you look over at him it seems to click in his head as he goes to speak up.

“Who is it that is making you so uncomfortable in your house? You’re not being hurt are you” A sudden wave of worry coating his voice as he thinks about the sort of trouble you could be in at your house.

“It’s nothing really I promise. Everything is fine, it's not that big of a deal. Plus it's nothing that I can’t handle.” You close your eyes and wave your hand at him trying to brush off the topic, but when his own hand wraps around your wrist it causes you to slightly jump before you open back up your eyes and look at him. You watch as he attempts to soften his face as he talks to you, now showing real concern for you.

“Just because it’s something you’ve handled before doesn’t mean you should have to go through it anymore. I can tell that you are a strong woman but that doesn’t mean that you have to go through whatever crap some douche is making you go through, you know that right?” Your eyes start to slightly tear up at his words. Never before had a random stranger showed you this much concern for your personal life.

“Oh um, thank you. It’s nothing that bad though it’s just. Well I guess you could say my boyfriend has a bit of a temper. It never has gotten physical he just yells... a lot. He hasn’t been the nicest lately and it seems like the only time I ever am able to get out of the house is at times like these, when I sneak out to come here. But honestly It's nothing to worry about, you should probably get going though, the city needs it’s mighty Pros out there watching over them as they sleep.”

“Are you sure that you are going to be okay here by yourself?” He asks you as he stands up beside where you were sitting as you go to nod your head telling him yes, you were caught off guard by the sound of your phone going off. You look down at it and feel as if you are frozen in place when you read the caller I.D and see his name, a chill making its way down your spine. You were about to respond to the kind man who had been keeping you company but when you went to speak, the words just seemed to stick in place as the thought of him made them feel like a suffocating sludge in the back of your throat.

“Um actually I need to go.. right now. Thank you so much for putting up with my rambling. Good night.” As you go to rush past him you felt a gentle hand stop you as it held your shoulder. You pause and look up at him, meeting his eyes. He had a question look on your face at your sudden rush to leave.

“What’s got you in such a rush? I thought this was your safe place.” He paused as he noticed your open phone seeing a name across the screen with a few choice words and it clicked in his head, the confusion he previously had now gone. “Let me walk you home at least.” Your eyes widen as you process his offer.

“Oh no, no, that’s fine you don’t have to do that I’ll be fine I promise. Anyways no one is out at this time so there is nothing really to worry about. You just get back to your patrols...” The smile that makes its way to his cheeks brings a sense of warmth to your heart in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time.

“As a hero it’s my duty to make sure that every civilian makes it safely to wherever they need to be, and if I aim to stay on the top I can’t just let you go walk the streets yourself. Plus, who knows what kind of criminals are out at this time.” As you go to argue against him, he quickly cuts you off. “I’m not taking no for an answer so you might as well just get going and lead the way." Letting out a sigh you realize there was no getting out of this so you lead the way to your apartment.

The two of you walk side by side down the street as you travel to your home. The closer that you get to the house the more nervous you feel yourself getting thinking about what could be lying in wait for you just beyond the doors. As you make the final turn to where you live, you pause just a few doors away. Bakugou paused in his steps as he noticed that you had stopped. His gaze drifts between you and the door you were staring at.

“Is this your place?” He questions, but is soon certain that it is when he takes in your nervous stance. When you don’t respond he walks closer to you and once again gently places his hand on your shoulder. “Hey are you going to be safe here? Because if you’re not I can always...”

“What do you think you're doing with your hands on my girlfriend?” You felt your body freeze and your heart drop at the sound of his voice. Bakugou goes to turn around but you stop him as you rest your hand on his wrist.

“Thank you for walking me home, I really appreciate it, but I should be heading in.” You go to step past him but flinch as you hear your boyfriend speak up again.

“So is this what you’ve been doing at night? Sneaking around with another man? After all that I do for you, for us? This is the kind of thanks that I get. Unbelievable. You are such a fu..”

“That’s it” You quickly look up from the ground and make eye contact with Bakugou as you see him start to boil with anger as he looks over to you, mouthing to stay behind him before turning to your apartment door and look over to your boyfriend. “Who the fuck do think you’re talking to like that?" Choosing to ignore the angry blond currently defending you.

“Get inside the fucking house, I don’t have time for this bullshit. You’ve caused enough trouble involving a hero in this so just get inside. We can deal with this in the morning.” You feel yourself sigh as you go to step forward but are stopped by a broad arm.

“She’s not fucking going anywhere, especially not with a piece of shit like you.” He continued to hold his arm out, easily blocking you from his path and your boyfriend left the door way and headed over.

“Incase you didn’t notice, I wasn’t talking to you. So if you don’t mind, we will be going now.” As he goes to grab your wrist, he is quickly stopped by Bakugou grabbing his and flinging it away from you but not before grasping his shirt collar.

“Listen and listen well. If I ever catch you laying a finger on her, come near her, even so much as breathe in her direction, you are going to become very well acquainted with my fist.” The sound of crackling coming from his fist mixing with the deep growl of his voice was enough to send chills down your spine. You could see how it had affected your boyfriend as well as you saw the confidence he previously had disappear. He tried to hold his ground as his collar was finally released and look back toward you before scoffing.

“Whatever. If you want to be with this try hard then go right ahead. You’ll just come crawling back anyways.” As he was about to continue, Bakugou stepped closer toward you once again, blocking his view of you.

As he turned around and walked off, going who knows where, you felt a weight being lifted off your shoulder with every step he took. The overwhelming relief caused you to cry slightly as you realized that you were finally free. When he turned around to see you crying, the urge to hold you and protect you felt stronger than before. Never before had anyone made him feel this way, but from the first moment he saw you flinch, he wanted nothing more than to just hold you and protect you from the world. So that’s what he did. He reached out and engulfed you in his arms, his hold pressing you into his muscular form as you drowned in his warmth. You tried to raise your head to ask him why, but found yourself unable to as he spoke up.

“You don’t have to talk about it, just let me hold you.” So you didn’t say anything and allowed the two of you to stand outside of your apartment as this man who you barely knew held you in his arms as you felt all your stress melt away. This complete stranger had changed your life for the better, freeing you from the hold of your boyfriend, standing up to him in the way he knew that you couldn’t, and you could tell that he didn’t do it because it was his duty as a hero, but instead as someone who genuinely cared. So you stood there embracing him and for the first time, in a very long time, you felt safe. You felt at home.

379 notes · View notes

boop-le-snoot · 4 years

Text

PARTY FAVOURS | CHAPTER 3

Rating: Explicit.

‼️TW: Reader is EIGHTEEN! Recreational drug use, smoking and alcohol consumption, deeply internalised self-loathing, very questionable moral standards. Daddy kink taken half-seriously. BDSM themes in later chapters - explicit content will come with it’s own TWs. FIRST PERSON POV.

Summary: You’re Peter’s classmate, a child of rich and famous but uncaring parents. Getting paired up for a lengthy project with the boy was an interesting turn of events and you don’t know whether to feel blessed or cursed when you develop, seemingly, a perfectly normal, harmless crush on Tony Stark. Fueled by feelings of inadequacy and boredom, your life spirals out of control - and you’re lucky your newfound friends are there to pick up the pieces even if you cannot find it in yourself to believe these amazing human (and not so human) beings voluntarily give you more than a fleeting glance and an offhanded thought. And they brought cake!

A/N: Peter always unapologetically stealing all the uwus. It’s the MCU law, sorry, didn’t make it. Tony Stark can ✨rail me✨. Enjoy, deviants.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub @mostly-marvel-musings @vozit @littlegasps @pilloclock @shereadsinquiet

Beta read by the lovely and patient @miscmarvelwritings ! She deserves THE WORLD! I’m not kidding. Please visit her and show her some love, my homegirl is stressed 💖✨

I didn’t see Bruce nor Tony for a week. The doctor was away on some science conference (he sent me one dorky selfie next to a whiteboard full of barely intelligible equations as proof), Tony was in California, having some sort of a board meeting. How do I know? Peter, out of lack of better things to do, constantly texted me updates on his science patron’s whereabouts and what-abouts.

In times like these, it took me for a loop - I was on a first name basis with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner. In the beginning, I was intimidated - I avoided them both like the plague and tinkered in the lab with headphones on whenever I could, until Tony made a comment so snarky I couldn’t resist joking back. That’s not to say Bruce was a social butterfly, but even he gave into my tomfoolery after seeing me stand calmly throughout several of Tony’s hissy fits.

What amazed me even more so was that despite Tony being literally an insufferable little brat, I still longed after him. Sure, the man was hot as hell - but his physical traits were much less significant when it came to my feelings towards him than the amount of sheer drive and willpower he possessed. He was stubborn - that’s another trait we shared - and unapologetically himself in every damn situation.

I could write poetry about the million expressions in his face, about the shine in his eyes.

But I won’t. He’s a technical guru. Ever since I started hanging around the tower, I became much more conscious about what I posted online. Not to say I had a Stark fan blog or anything, but I’d stopped scrolling through the tag, even if I didn’t actually click on any articles. I dutifully reblogged pictures of Tom Ellis instead - while he was a very fine, distinguished man, he wasn’t Tony Stark. I enjoyed looking at the first and enjoyed being around the other. And even though my feed still had the occasional “I love arm” shitpost, I focused on aesthetic pictures and quotes instead - things I had an active internet presence for.

My personal life wasn’t very interesting. I didn’t have any close friends and any and all sex I’ve had was just a bunch of one night stands, fueled by alcohol, selfish lust and the occasional joint. Despite having a fair share of kind, generous lovers, the morning after left me feeling a little bit emptier every time. I thought about getting a boyfriend or something… But quickly became totally clueless as to where I could find one. Men under twenty-five could barely hold my interest long enough to have a casual chat and I wasn’t naive enough to think there were a lot of honest, well-intentioned thirty-somethings that wanted to date my high school ass.

Peter had a crush on me, I knew that. The boy developed one or another kind of feelings for anybody who showed him the tiniest bit of kindness and it alarmed me. In any other case I would have bailed on him, gently, of course, to spare him the disappointment but my selfishness got in the way. I regretted it every day. A wave of desperation rose in me every time I thought about moving on without seeing Tony or Bruce, without Peter shyly smiling at me as he explained how the things he created worked. A faint hope that one day, his schoolboy puppy love will grow into a brotherly kind of regard was the only thing that kept me afloat in my sea of guilt.

As the Fall rolled around, so did my gloomy mood. It was hard to be sad when the sun was shining and the birds were chirping outside, but with clouds hanging over the city like a lead curtain, the bottled up negativity rose to the surface uninvited. Mother had returned from her business trip, adding an uncomfortable, hollow sort of chill to the house wherever she stood. I don’t know what was worse - the hours we spent in one room ignoring each other or the immaculately structured questions she asked me about my studies and extra-curriculars. Mother didn’t ask me about my friends, or my feelings or any of the other things a mother was supposed to give a damn about.

I was an asset to her company and that was that. If you would have asked her, she would tell you I’m old enough for her to mind her own business - which was technically true. Yet according to her, I’ve been old enough since seventh grade. My dad answered his messages sporadically, sometimes with a two-word answer and sometimes with a cocaine and booze fueled rant eleven texts long. I felt sorry for him. I really did.

My phone was blowing up. Party invitations, likes from people I saw once or twice (“oh my god, you’re, like, so hot, what’s your Insta”), DMs from guys looking to score an easy piece of ass. I never answered. If I wanted to party, I just sort of showed up and everybody went along with it. I took care of my appearance and it showed - never once was I turned away from a party. Everyone wanted to dance, to share their drinks, to light up and get faded together and fade into the city, into the cold air and grey sky.

Skirt swaying and top clinging to my chest, I danced. The sweaty, heated bodies around me did the same. Not one of us cared, it was a Tuesday night and the place packed way too many people. An arm snaked around my waist, startling me. I had to begrudgingly crack open an eye to see the bastard in the dimly lit room.

“I saw you at the bar, you looked bored. Maybe you need something to cheer you up?”

So not a creepy rapist. Just your friendly neighborhood drug dealer. At house parties like these, there was always The Guy. He never danced, he sipped on the same drink all night yet always looked like he was having the time of his life. I was no stranger to the occasional joint, or even something more stimulating…

“I got the good stuff, sweetums, you’ll be fine and dandy in no time.”

Eh, what the hell. I inconspicuously danced with the guy to the middle of the crowd, exchanging a few crumpled dollar notes for a baggie of two pills. In no time, I chased one down with a hastily poured Jack.

The world did become better, as the drug dealer promised. People were nicer, friendlier and I almost didn’t believe mother was a useless, stone cold bitch. I almost didn’t care that I was deeply, madly in love with a man as unreachable as Olympus. If I squinted, the guy sitting at the bar looked kind of like Tony, tan, dark hair, worn jeans and a band tee.

So I danced. I danced and I stared right at him and then we danced some more. I closed my eyes, letting his arms grab me and pull me, I let his beard scratch my neck where he sucked a mark on me, I let his rough palms choke me against a wall in one of the bedrooms on the second floor of the house. It felt good to be wanted. It felt great to be needed as he rutted inside of me, hitting that sweet spot with every twitch of his hips.

It felt lonely when he left, pressing a kiss to my forehead and saying something dumb like “Be good, kid.”. I don’t remember what exactly it was, only that I had to turn my face away from his breath that reeked like weed and vodka.

To shake off the void that made home inside of my chest, I went to the roof to get some fresh air. The house had a nice patio on it - I actually knew the owner - that hosted more plants than I’d care to count. There was an ashtray and an abandoned pack of cigarettes. I greeted the faintly blooming sunrise surrounded by a cloud of smoke, shivering in the autumn mist.

Sounds of the party became less prominent with every passing minute as people geared up to go home and get a few winks of sleep before going to work. New Yorkers weren’t really thoughtful partying on a Tuesday, but then again, neither was I. The city always was busy - even then, at the crack of dawn, the dull throb of a bassline was rudely interrupted by a blaring car alarm followed by dogs barking in aggravation.

The more I sat there, the bleaker everything became. I had enough common sense to know I was just coming off the drug but for once, I had been happy and content for several hours without a care in the world. It had been too long since I felt that way and what’s a little low after a good high?

Mother left for her early conference at five AM sharp, I entered my house at five-thirty, making a beeline in the shower and immediately dumping my alcohol and cigarette soaked clothes into the wash with the smelliest detergent I could find. I gave similar treatment to my body and my hair, using the chemically-smelling products on my body and on my hair, brushing my teeth multiple times.

By the time I was leaving for school, only a faint smell lingered in the air where I’d previously entered, so I set the air freshener to automatically spray the obnoxious mist every ten minutes. Mother gets home at twelve for lunch, that should be more than enough time for any remnants of my partying to disappear into the lilac and lavender fumes.

The Valium I’d popped to deal with the aftermath of Molly made my brain sluggish. One look in the mirror and I hastily put my sunglasses on - the ashen colour of my face and the slightly crazed look wasn’t very complimentary to my complexion. The teacher didn’t give a damn. I stared blankly ahead of me for most part of first period.

“What happened to you? You look like hell!” Peter’s exclamation, while usually would’ve alarmed me, barely made a dent in my stupor.

“I feel like shit, too,” Admit what you can’t deny. Deny what you can’t admit. “I didn’t get any sleep. Like, at all.”

Peter frowned, the crease between his eyebrows growing deeper with every passing second. I flinched when his hand tentatively touched my forehead - the pounding in my temples slowed to a dull throbbing but it was still unpleasant when someone was all up in my space.

“Jesus, you’re as cold as a corpse. Maybe you should go see the nurse,” His worry bled into me too. Like hell I was going to the school nurse! They were specifically trained to recognize the signs of substance abuse.

“I’ll head home straight after school, I think we’ll have to skip our sciencing,” No way also I’d be letting Tony and Bruce see me like this. Oh my God, I was a mess. “Mother’s home.” I added. Even the emotional frostbite I’d get from being around her was more tolerable than being a downer for Peter and Tony.

Peter’s face immediately softened in sympathy. He knew almost everything about my relationship with my family, including him actually seeing my mother that one time. He told me she gave him the creeps and I don’t blame him at all. The stoicism that was required for her work made my mother an unbearable person to exist around outside of her fancy office on the top floor of a glass high-rise building.

“Okay, but promise to text me if it gets worse. You might have caught the autumn bug that’s been going around,” He obviously said the last part to calm himself down. Sweet little Peter, naïve child. I solemnly nodded nonetheless.

When I got home, I went straight to bed. Tony was being Tony, as usual, but in a strangely kind way. I suppose it should’ve made me feel better and it kind of did, but then it went downhill from there. I couldn’t explain why I started crying. I bawled my eyes out at how unfair this god-damned world was and when the doorbell rang… Let’s say, the delivery boy hightailed it out of there once the bag of takeout was deposited into my arms. I looked and felt ghastly.

I ate as much as I could and dropped into a restless nap, drifting in and out of sleep with exhausted exasperation. There had not been a time where I felt so low after popping a pill and I was equal parts alarmed and satisfied. For one, the drug dealer didn’t lie like they usually do - the stuff was good and I still had the other pill hidden away in a bottle of painkillers, inconspicuously mixed with other white pills but shape distinctive enough for me to recognize should I have need in taking it again.

The thought of well, taking it again, was fleeting. I had school tomorrow and a missed science bender to make up for. A few buzzes of my phone later, I felt happier. Better. Not so down anymore. I meant every word that I said - Bruce was very precious, kind and gentle. And so, warm and soft. And totally kissable.

Well, fuck. What do I do now?

#bun writes #party favours #tony stark x reader #tony stark x y/n #bruce banner x y/n #bruce banner x reader #stephen strange x reader #Stephen Strange x y/n #I've already got a room in Hell y'all welcome to book one nearby

168 notes · View notes

ohmy7hearts · 4 years

Text

Being an Amazon and Tim Drake’s significant other; pt. 2

A/N: my grammar is all over the place,, so just don’t mind that,,, on a more exciting note!! i’m planning to take A levels next year despite graduating with diploma in March so,,, idk how committed I would be to writing ((like i was in the beginning lololol))

They have made it clear that whatever you did will not earn you any sort of favours from them. So you have decided to just avoid them entirely, using your enhanced abilities to sneak around the tower, like some kind of burglar - dashing off to your room when you hear the littlest sound of voices coming towards your direction, peeking out at the corridors before walking down them, not joining them when they go out for their outings or having their movie night

Honestly, Gar and Bart were the only ones who felt bad about leaving you out entirely. They tried suggesting subtly but it was always met with glares or just shut down before they could convince anyone

The two of them band together to try and make you be friendlier with the rest of the team to earn their trust back

However, no matter how much they’ve tried, your enhanced skills always leave you one step above

So they have to take things the hard way, they infiltrated your room

You were not happy to see the two - no matter how sheepish and sorry they look and how fast they try to talk into listening to them - and literally threw them out of the room

Tim was walking past to witness the whole thing. He gave an offhand remark about leaving people alone and respecting their personal space. Honestly, he just doesn’t want you hanging around with the rest of the team. He felt so vulnerable with you and he sucks at keeping his emotions in check. The last thing he needed was for you to even hint about his crush on Cassie - the team was too smart and pick it up straight away

There was a mission that forced you out of your room, some illegal drug smuggling by the coast. The plan was a simple get in, kick their ass and get out to call the police right on time. Hence, you were told to standby - to watch how the team works so you wouldn’t be confused about how to work with others in the near future

You merely shrugged and waited on the roof as told while the rest of the team entered to seize the operation

However, you see someone sneaking around the shadows and your gut was telling you to go down and help them. You don’t want to cause any more trouble with the team than you already did but you knew they needed help

And from the sounds of it, with the screaming and gears going off, they were ambushed. So, albeit reluctantly, you went in and saved their asses

Despite that, that wasn’t the team’s primary focus. Apparently, the assailant was provoking them and he - Slade was it? - knew where it hurts the most

Conner was up and arms with Tim about his supposed crush on Cassie with the latter not helping in dissuading the situation despite being a team leader. The team themselves want to intervene but it was escalating badly

You rolled your eyes, going to help Bart with an unconscious beast boy. You three headed back to the aircraft without saying much despite you being able to see Bart opening his mouth and closing it again in hopes of finding the right words to break the ice between the two of you

You tended to Beast Boy’s wounds with Bart vibrating behind you, peering over your shoulder then zooming to and fro the small space whenever you requested for some medical ointments

The peace was broken when the rest of the team rolled in with looks of exasperation and exhaustion and Tim and Conner gone. Bart launched his questions, worry apparent in his voice and features but Cassie merely waved her hand to dismiss him

Starfire sat beside you, staring at a patched up Beast Boy, before muttering thanks to you. You looked at her from the corner of your eyes before nodding slightly

The moment you all touched down, Cyborg took Beast Boy in his arms, nudging you away when you were about to. Shrugging your shoulders, you retreated back to your room

Of course, that didn’t come easy as Bart tried to talk to you, chattering about endless subjects, following you till you both faced your bedroom door

You raised an eyebrow at him and for the first time you noticed the wrangling of his arms out of nervousness and the constant darting of eyes from corner to corner

“I just want you to know that you have a friend in me. I know it’s weird with how we almost died - but hey, we didn’t so that’s a win for us - and the team is falling apart - to which I find is totally ridiculous if you’re curious cause technically you can’t control your feelings for someone but I’m not saying that Red Robin is in the wrong but neither is he right but so is Conner but he’s always been emotional and there’s nothing wrong with that but, wait - what was I saying?”

You considered him, eyes scanning him from toe to the ends of his hair, putting him further on edge and a small part in you almost grin manically at that, before you hummed in acknowledgement and spinning into your room

Behind the closed door, you can hear him shouting about it’ll be nicer if you actually talk instead of just humming and nodding and going off tangent to which you smiled at before soaking yourself for a bath

After that day, you returned to your routine of avoiding everyone - despite Bart and Beast Boy knocking on your door every now and then with invitations; Bart being more annoying and persistent and threatening to vibrate through the walls - and stumbled upon Tim one late night when Bart was in the same room as you

Too engrossed in making a late-night snack, and half-listening to Bart’s one-sided conversation, you didn’t hear him creep around - kudos to Batman for teaching his sidekicks to be discreet successfully

“You’re still here?” His biting tone was what greeted you and with a blank expression, you raised an eyebrow at him

Bart, ever the peaceful one, jumped to your defence while trying to deter Tim from spiralling further into his foul mood

You pick up your snacks, glancing back one last time before leaving, scoffing “At least I add value to the team and not just participating in petty arguments.”

Tim snarled about how he was wanted, unlike you with the Amazons and the team

Your jaw tensed, blood turning cold, eyes seeing red and were ready to maul at him but Bart literally intervene

Somehow, that tick Tim the wrong way and him sneering about your boy toy and Bart being such an idiot, which was not surprising

Bewildered, he stood there with mouth agape not believing that the person in front of him was one of the people he always admired for his determination, levelheadedness and thoughtfulness

You rolled your eyes, mocking his emotional intelligence or lack thereof was the reason why he was so isolated from everyone despite how much he tried fitting in with people

Dragging a shell shocked Bart to the rooftop for an unplanned heart-to-heart

You didn't - or even bother to - see the hurt flitting briefly on Tim’s face

Discomfort was something rare when Bart was around but with how quiet he was, you started prattling about your life on Amazon without actually revealing much about your own history; you were not ready for that vulnerability

That somehow got his attention; with childlike wonder, he questioned you one after another and you patiently answered

You didn’t know how long you both stayed there and it was hard to keep track with how seamlessly the conversation flowed to his whereabouts and history and dreams but you knew when the sun bathed you two in sunlight, Bart was already dozing off while still murmuring about something

And for once in a long time, you were content

#tim drake #tim drake imagine #tim drake headcanons #tim drake x reader #red robin #red robin imagine #red robin headcanon #red robin x reader #hiraeth red robin #dc imagine #rslcreates #rslwrites

98 notes · View notes

astraeagreengrass · 4 years

Text

The Queen’s Husband [2/?]

When her reign is threatened, the Queen of Ergona must find a husband to secure her throne.

Word Count: 1.791

Warnings: None! Just an anxious queen and a very good-looking Captain.

A/N: I had to split this chapter in two because it was getting too long (and now I feel like it’s too short 🤷🏻‍♀️), so this story will have more parts than I originally intended (maybe four or five instead of just three). And thank you so so so much to the lovely people who commented on the first chapter. It took a lot of courage for me to start writing again and post it online and I appreciate every one who took some time to let me know their thoughts! It means more to me than I can say. I hope you like part two ♡

Series Masterlit

My Masterlist

On a sunny summer morning, you asked Captain Steve Rogers to marry you.

He arrived three days after the council meeting. From a palace window you saw him dismount his black stallion, shield on his back, and make his way inside. He was still wearing his travel clothes when you met him in the courtyard.

"Your Grace" he curtsied when he spotted you.

With a nod you dismissed Wanda, your handmaid, and walked over to him.

"Please rise, Captain Rogers. Could I interest you in a walk in the gardens?" you asked.

He quickly offered you his arm, apologizing for the lack of garb of his outfit.

"I was told you wanted to see me as soon as I arrived."

"Indeed" you answered, right hand on the crook of his left arm. The worn-out leather of his sleeve felt nice against your hand. "It is something of urgency."

He stopped, clear blue eyes suddenly attentive.

"What happened, Your Grace? How may I be of service?"

You pointed to a stone bench next to the roses - beautiful pink blossoms that were your mother's favorite. You sent a silent prayer to her spirit, wishing more than anything that she could be here to hold your hand as you defined your future.

"My cousin Margaret has given birth to a son. The baby has a claim to the thrones of both Beathan and Ergona. As long as I am unmarried and childless my reign is threatened."

Captain Rogers stilled. He was a very handsome man, with shaggy blonde hair curling around his ears. The full beard that adorned his face made him appear older than he actually was, but it probably worked on his advantage whilst amongst more seasoned military officers - he looked fierce and powerful, yet his gaze was kind.

"You need a husband" he finally said.

"Precisely” you gulped. The skin between his eyebrows was creased and, as the rest of him, the small imperfection looked like it was carved out of marble. Would it even soften if you caressed it with your thumb?

"I sent for you today because I would like you to consider becoming my husband and the King of Ergona" you said in such a rushed whisper anyone less attentive wouldn’t have heard.

But Steve did.

He rose so fast it startled you. Tall and imposing, Steve stared down at you, beautiful face twisted in shock and… Was he offended?

"Is this some sort of joke?" he exclaimed running his hand through his face. "Did Tony put you up to this?"

“What?” If you weren’t so confused by his reaction you’d be more insulted by the way he was scowling at you as if you were his opponent rather than his queen. “How dare you speak to me like this?”

"Who told you of my affections?" Steve's voice was stern, clearly unfazed by your authority. You could suddenly picture him in the battlefield, strong and commanding. But that thought quickly vanished in the midst of your disorientation.

"Your affections? To whom?" you questioned.

"To you of course!"

You gasped, lips opening in a perfectly shocked "O" shape.

"You have… Affections… Towards me?" you stuttered, baffled.

"Of course! Of course I do, Y/N". He had lost all courtesy now, referring to you without your title. His hands gripped his hair furiously. “I honestly thought you knew!”

Oh.

"I… I had no idea" you stammered, shame flooding your veins faster than you could come up with an apology. "Captain Rogers, I'm sorry. This conversation should never have happened. Please forgive me.”

You tried to rise from the stone bench, but Steve stood still in front of it, preventing you from escaping.

"Did you truly not know?" he asked, right eyebrow slightly raised in suspicion.

“No!” you exclaimed. “And even if I did I would never poke fun of your feelings. What kind of person do you think I am?”

Steve sighed and dropped his head, ashamed. If you were an artist you’d paint him, shoulders slumped and hands on his narrow waist, Adonis himself personified in the soft summer light.

“Forgive me, Your Grace. I was incredibly disrespectful.”

Something in his expression tugged at your heartstrings.

“You don’t have to apologize” you whispered. “It must’ve been shocking for you. I just hope you believe me when I say I had no idea about your… Affections.”

Heavens, why is it easier to to lead an army than have this conversation?

Steve looked up and you couldn’t tell if his eyes were green or blue. The air felt thick with embarrassment, even if there were no witnesses but the roses surrounding the courtyard.

You thought he would finally make way for you to stand and leave – free to wallow in shame and self-pity – but Steve wasn’t done surprising you.

"Was I your first choice?" he asked. "To become your husband?

"Yes. The council suggested you but I wouldn't be here if I hadn't made the choice out of my own free will."

"Considering I’ve already ignored every single courtesy and protocol, may I ask what willed you to make this choice?"

It wasn’t an easy one, but then again, which decision from the past five years had been? You may have been desperate but you couldn’t afford to be anything less than rational. Fury was right: the news of Margaret’s son spread like wildfire, snuffing out any jubilation from the defeat of Zerbolia. You had purposefully averted any talk of marriage, hoping that the time would come when only you would be enough for Ergona, but it never did. Duty came knocking at your door sooner than you expected.

Proposing to Steve Rogers was a shot in the dark. Love wasn’t a luxury you could afford and you held no expectations this marriage would be anything other than a business transaction, but you could wish for safety. Knowing Steve’s character, it seemed unlikely he would turn out to be like your father.

However, power changed people.

You couldn’t say that you chose him out of hope - hope that he would be a good husband, a good king and a good father. Hope that a crown wouldn’t corrupt him as it did to so many others rulers before you, the dead kings and queens immortalized in fancy portraits and terrible deeds.

However, you should give him something.

"You are a good man" you replied. “I’ve wondered about you and your motives constantly. You’re young yet incredibly respected and successful. Men have crowned themselves kings with less than what you have. But even so you’ve never threatened me or my reign. You’ve always been kind - the kindest, actually. Ruthless in battle but not cruel. Aware of others beneath you. Loved by all.”

“I kept waiting for the moment when you would betray me, revealing yourself to be just like every other men I’ve encountered in my life. But you never did, you were just nicer, friendlier, more trustworthy. And I don’t mean trustworthy as a Captain, but as a friend. I started seeing you as a friend and I have very few friends.”

“And I thought: ‘If I must have a husband, then at least I hope he is a good man’. And you are the best man I know.”

Steve took a step forward and kneeled. He was closer to you now than he ever had before - closer that anyone dared to be. His boldness was disconcerting and, in the back of your mind, you knew the right thing to do was to chastise him for being so forward. Instead, you let him take your left hand in his.

Steve kissed your ring finger, before cradling your palm to his face. His beard was surprisingly soft but his pillowy lips were softer as he lightly pressed them to your skin. Eyes closed and frown softened, he looked as if he had found peace with your touch.

"I have loved you since you were eighteen” he said. “On your coronation day. You were so young but showed no fear as you walked by those old lords and ladies who all secretly wished you failed. Your head was held high and as you looked at nowhere but the throne sitting on the dais. I had never seen anyone more beautiful or more brave."

"I don't need to tell you that my father disapproves of my military career, this gossip has been well spread at Court. He is a proud Western man and it churns his stomach to see his son serve an Eastern queen. But if I am a good man it is because I serve a good queen and a good woman. Five years in your presence have assured me that there is no greater right in my life than the love and admiration I feel for you."

Sometime during his speech, Steve’s voice turned husky and you blushed profusely. Not from the heat or from shame, but something different you'd never felt before. There was a fluttering in your stomach you couldn't place, but maybe, just maybe, you liked it.

Looking up, he smiled, the stretch of his pink lips resembling a boy, not a warrior.

"I would be honored to become your husband, Your Grace. Nothing would make me happier."

"Thank you" you whispered in relief. Anyone would tell you that it was unnecessary for a queen to thank a suitor - to thank anyone. But did this rule apply if the suitor was you?

Steve’s smile widened as his eyes sparkled with mirth. You amused him, and instead of annoying you, the realization just made the butterflies in your stomach flutter harder.

He lowered your hand on his face, but didn’t drop it, as he stood. His own palms were calloused where he gripped usually his sword but it didn’t bother you - they felt grounding, and reassuring: This is real. You’re not dreaming.

You didn’t have to look to know you were being watched from nearly every palace window overlooking the courtyard. The queen wasn’t granted much privacy. Rising from the stone bench, hand still on Steve’s, you discreetly nodded towards the windows. He smirked and squeezed your hand.

One.

Two.

Three times.

“I’m ready when you are” he said.

Unsaid words left a bitter taste as they died on your tongue. You weren’t ready - would you ever be? You thought you were ready to be queen, but time showed you there was no preparing for all the frustrations you’ve encountered. On the secret corners of your mind you still felt like a child, anxiously looking at the adults surrounding you wondering what their next steps might be.

Marrying Steve was your own step. And for the first time in a long while, it felt like a hopeful one.

#steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x y/n #king!au #king!steve #medieval!au #marvel au #steve rogers au #steve rogers

200 notes · View notes

lov3nerdstuff · 5 years

Text

Wicked Game {Part 2}

~Professor Hiddleston AU~

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Part: 2/30

Words: 4k

Warnings: Professor x student (college AU), little language

Summary: After transferring to a new university for the last year of your master's, you meet Professor Hiddleston and soon find yourself unable to stay away from him.

A.N.: I really suck at summaries, I'm so sorry 😅 this is a slow burn romance with lots of pining 💗 this chapter is sweet but a little painful, sorry not sorry 😁 but you're gonna love the next chapter so stay tuned!!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

All Parts can be found on my Masterlist!

______________________________

Your alarm blared loudly, making you groan and hit the snooze button. It was too early and too cold outside of your bed, especially after the long night you'd had… So you just lay under the warm covers and thought about the day ahead. Today, you'd see Hiddleston again and you were determined to not be caught off guard by him once more. After all, you didn't even know if he was worth swooning over and all you could tell was that he looked like a god and was nicer than an angel. Wow, that thought didn't help at all.

After another fifteen minutes filled with scrolling through various apps, you finally felt ready to tackle the day and got out of bed with a long sigh. You were in dire need of coffee and made a mental note to stop by the small coffee shop you had noticed yesterday on your way to class. For now, your first problem was that you didn't really know what to wear to class today. Usually questions like that didn't bother you much and you just wore whatever was decent enough, but today you felt like making an effort. You were trying to convince yourself that it wasn't because of Hiddleston, though.

After you had finally settled for black skinny jeans, a dark green wool pullover and boots with semi-high block heels, you added some dainty golden jewelry and already felt like you looked a lot nicer than ninety percent of the rest of the year.

As you went to pack your bag, you realized that you still hadn't found your keys. Sighing you put on some music and dug through your whole room, without any results. The damn keychain was gone and you sat down on your squeaking bed in despair. You'd had such high hopes for your last year and for the new college… but at the moment, everything was going pear shaped. It was getting quite late and you still wanted to get some coffee, so you packed your books and supplies into a leather backpack (mindful to not repeat yesterday's mistake of bringing a broken satchel that wouldn't close), then wrapped a big scarf around yourself and made your way to the metro.

The ride wasn't too long, just enough time for you to get out your headphones and listen to a few songs. In no time you reached your station and made your way towards the coffee shop you'd seen yesterday. It was on a quiet corner a little off campus and to your surprise not all that many students were inside. Must be because of the Starbucks that was right on campus… You didn't mind Starbucks, but preferred good coffee over status symbols.

You ordered your favorite beverage in as large as possible (yes, it was necessary) and waited patiently for your order while quietly singing along to the song you were listening to. When the customer before you received his order, the minimalist logo on the cup caught your attention. Wasn't that the same kind of cup Hiddleston had kept in his office yesterday? That's when an idea struck you, an idea both stupid and very much necessary after making such a fool of yourself. You'd bring him coffee as a thank you for being so nice.

"Excuse me…" You turned to the girl behind the counter. "Uhm… is there any chance you'd remember the tall man with the incredible blue eyes who was here yesterday morning?"

"Kinda curly hair, glasses, handsome as fuck?" She chuckled.

"That's him." You smiled back. "Do you still remember what he ordered?"

"Uhm, yeah, I think so." She thought for a moment. "Must've been a large filter coffee with a tiny dash of milk, no sweetener but a teaspoon of cocoa. He was very precise about that."

"Then please add that to my order." You said and let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. It was set, you'd bring the man in question coffee. Maybe that was inappropriate, but if you could build a good (and professional) relationship with him, maybe he would be willing to supervise your thesis at the end of the year. You'd worked so long for those degrees and he seemed like a good fit since he was an expert in both fields of your study. For now, that was a good enough justification for your behavior.

A moment later you picked up your order and slowly made your way to class. This time around you knew how to read the weird room number on your schedule: first the tower, then the floor, then the corridor and finally the actual room number. That truly was one disadvantage of a bigger university… too many rooms! Making your way towards your room, you continued to silently sing along to your music in an attempt to ignore the people around you until you reached your destination.

The room was open but yet empty, so you made your way to the second row (first would've been too… weird, after yesterday), set down the coffees and your bag and finally sat down yourself. There were still ten minutes to go until your class would start, so you closed your eyes and enjoyed the music for a while.

"You can sing really well." His voice made your eyes snap open in an instant and you had the immediate feeling of a dejavu. You hadn't even realized that you had been singing along loudly, but obviously you had, and just embarrassed yourself in front of your professor once again.

"Mr. Hiddleston!" You shrieked, stopping the music and putting away your phone and headphones. "I didn't notice you coming… Sorry."

"It's alright." He smiled as he set his bag down at the front. "Have you considered joining the university's choir? I mean it's none of my business, but I'm sure they would welcome a great voice such as yours."

You blushed furiously, and he also seemed to be taken aback a little by his words. For a moment, the whole room was silent.

"Uhm…" You remembered the coffee and rose to your feet, taking the cup and slowly walking towards the front. "I… I brought you coffee. As a thank you for yesterday. You really saved my ass with those room numbers…"

His eyes widened slightly as he slowly reached out to take the cup from you. Then, for a short moment, he just stared at you in disbelief and you felt your heart sink to the floor and even lower. It had been a bad idea after all, stupid even, how could you have thought…

"That's very thoughtful of you, but not at all necessary." He finally said in a kind voice, breaking your downward spiral of thoughts. "I'm just glad I could help." Then he smiled once more as if nothing had happened.

"I just thought you'd appreciate it." You smiled slightly and went to sit back down.

"I do." He muttered quietly as he took a sip, frowning once more once he tasted his signature mix. The irritation and surprise in his face made you smile a little too widely and you would've paid quite a bit to see it again.

"How…?" He laughed, pointing at the cup and then at you.

"I'm good at guessing." You shrugged and couldn't help but smirk at him. However as he rose an eyebrow at you in amusement and pushed his glasses up, you laughed out loud.

"I asked the barista in the coffee shop. I noticed how you had their cup on your desk yesterday, and that gave me the idea in the first place." You admitted, shaking your head to yourself.

"Very clever, Miss L/n…" He mused, taking another sip with an expression of pure bliss and you followed the example.

"I hope you'll say the same after class." You chuckled, getting your books out of your backpack and hoping that your heart rate would slow down soon. But his voice was like honey: once you'd enjoyed its sweet sound, you were bound to be drawn in and kept within it's comfort again and again.

Mr. Hiddleston walked back to his table at the front and also grabbed his materials from his bag, preparing for the class ahead. Meanwhile a bunch of other students filed into the room, taking their seats around you. A girl with green hair and quite a few piercings sat down next to you, throwing a judging look at you.

"I'm Sky." She said simply, waiting for a response.

"Y/n." You smiled at her without any judgement, which she obviously didn't expect.

"You… you're new here, right?" She asked, now a lot friendlier.

"Do I look that lost?" You chuckled, thankful for the distraction from staring at Hiddleston.

"No, but I've never seen you around. What's your major?"

"I'm doing a double degree in cultural studies and literature." You sighed. "It's my last year."

"Wow…" Sky said, clicking her pen a few times. "Because of him?" She pointed to the front where Mr. Hiddleston stood, flipping through a fancy green journal that instantly caught your interest. However you remembered the conversation you were having and shook your head a little too eagerly.

"No!" Your voice sounded an octave too high. "I… I don't even know him. I…. I've been in this degree for two years already, and this is only my second day at this school and…"

"Woah, calm down!" Sky laughed. "I was just kidding!"

You let out a shaky breath and tried to smile. "Not funny…"

"Well, but funny is that everyone is crushing on him." She mentioned around the room. "That's why his classes are always completely crowded. He's a darn good teacher, but pretty demanding."

"Good to know." You sighed. "What's your degree?"

"Literature." She shrugged. "Only one degree, two more years to go. I'm not that much of an overachiever."

You snorted, shaking your head at her comment. "I'm aiming for a career in academics. One gotta stand out to get there, you know…"

"Oh geez, Hiddleston will love you then…" She chuckled.

"So, you've taken his classes before?" You assumed, looking at your new acquaintance with sincere interest.

Sky opened her mouth to answer, but Mr. Hiddleston interrupted your conversation to start the class.

"Hello everyone. I'm Professor Thomas Hiddleston and this is my lecture about advanced literature analysis in context of hermeneutic theory. Today, we're going to handle things a bit differently than you'd expect. We start straight with the first topic, formalities will be covered at the end of class." He announced, glancing at you for just a short moment. You looked down at your notebook with a small smile, happy at the prospect of actually learning something. Sky on the other hand looked at Mr. Hiddleston, then at you with an amused smirk, before focusing on her own notes.

The rest of the lecture went by without any further interruptions and you focused solemnly on your studies. Most of the things that were covered today you had already read the night before and thus you could focus on learning the small details he was giving. When the lecture was over and everyone had asked their questions and collected their syllabi, you tried to resist the temptation of staying behind to talk to your professor. You wanted to tell him how much you enjoyed the class and how interesting the topic had been, but you also knew that it would leave the wrong impression. The last thing you wanted was to annoy him and he probably didn't want to talk to you anyway. You'd already had your daily dose of awkwardness when you had bought him coffee.

So you quickly packed up and walked towards the door where Sky was waiting to grab lunch with you.

"Miss L/n!" Mr. Hiddleston called after you, pushing his way through a crowd of female student who wanted to talk to him very desperately.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, pulling yourself together to not become a blushing mess once again.

"Miss L/n…" He said as he stepped closer to you, so close in fact that you could faintly smell his cologne. "I found your keys. In, uhm… in my office… last night." He fished them out of his pocket as unsuspiciously as possible and placed them in your hand. When his fingers brushed against yours, as lightly as a feather, you could practically see him jump and shudder, but he quickly regained his composure and put on a fake smile. The small action made your heart drop a little, but you chose to ignore it. If he was so uncomfortable with you, even at this minimal and accidental touch, you would do him the favor and stay away from him outside of class.

"Wow, thank you! I was so worried I'd lost them." You said and then smiled at him encouragingly. "This class was amazing. Thank you, professor." With a small nod you closed your hand around your keys and took a few steps backwards, before turning around and heading for the door.

"What was THAT about?" Sky smirked as you walked down the hallway together.

"He just gave me my keys back." You rolled your eyes. "I forgot them at his office yesterday."

Now Sky straight-out stared at you with utter amusement until you realized how what you had just said must sound.

"Gosh, that came out so wrong." You sighed and hid your face in your hands. Sky laughed and led you to the cafeteria for lunch, while you told her about your encounter with Hiddleston from the previous day.

"He really brought you all the way to your room? In the E tower?" She asked while chewing on a bunch of fries. "That's kinda cute."

"It's not!" You complained, stealing one of her fries. "He had to teach a class in the same tower anyway."

Sky laughed, shaking her head. "Did he tell you that?"

"Yeah, I told him he didn't have to and he said it's fine, he'd have to go there anyway." You shrugged, sipping on your water.

"Such a liar!" She grinned. "The E tower is for foreign languages, he's got nothing to do there."

You felt your skin heat up for a short moment, but even when it faded, the tingles remained. "Well, maybe he was just trying to be friendly. Or his class was moved to a different room. Who knows. Isn't he always nice to his students?"

Sky shrugged. "He's one of the nicest people on campus, that's true. Except for… well, that won't happen to you anyway."

"Tell me!" You inquired. "Except for what?"

"Well, he gets really into his studies and the topics and stuff… and when students disrespect him or act like asses he can lash out pretty badly."

"And… does that happen often?"

"Nah, don't worry about it. It usually only hits people who really deserve it." She waved it off and you nodded.

"So… you're not crushing on him then?" You asked after a few minutes.

"Hell no!" She laughed out loud. "I'm not into… well, anything actually. I'm very happy on my own. Are you? Crushing on him, I mean?"

You breathed deeply and frowned. "I don't think so… I mean he's nice and stuff, but he's being nice to everyone and it didn't mean anything that he showed me to my room. And most importantly: I don't even know him really!"

"Very true…" She nodded. "And he's a professor after all… if he's interested in anyone, it'll probably be someone who's on the same level as him, like, cognitively and academically and stuff…"

You nodded and finished your sandwich, not even hungry anymore. The feeling of being absolutely ridiculous had taken over your body and you were in desperate need for some alone time to get your messed up emotions sorted out. And you were granted just that, as Sky excused herself for she had a class in five minutes. With a tired sigh you took another look at your schedule and then headed to the library to do some more reading on today's topics.

The rest of the day you spent studying, passing time up to your evening class. For some reason it was way more difficult to focus in this class, let alone to enjoy the topic, as you had already taken pretty much the same class at your old college. But the class was a requirement here and you were determined to do well in it despite the inevitable boredom. So when you got some homework at the end, you headed straight back to the library. It was already eight in the evening and campus was pretty deserted, except for the poor souls such as yourself who happened to have night classes. The assignment was easy, horribly easy even, and you had double- and triple-checked your work by nine thirty and handed it in per email at shortly before ten. Finally done for the day, you raced to the metro to head home (the last train left shortly after ten and you weren't going to walk that damn long way home at night), where the inevitable noises of your roommate's friends made you want to cry. Oh, how desperately you wanted to move out… but yet, you hadn't found a better place to live and honestly, you couldn't really afford any of the fancy apartments around.

When you were in the safety of your room, the day finally caught up with you and you felt dead tired, ready to sleep for a very long time.

Three weeks went by like this: you worked your ass off, every day and every night, in an attempt to distract yourself from your thoughts about your professor. In class, you had gotten so far ahead that you could answer every single one of his questions, sometimes before he even asked them. Sky remained your only friend at uni, but she knew better than to try talking to you about Mr. Hiddleston. She noticed however that after the day he had given you your keys back, he avoided talking to you, or even looking at you if it wasn't for the sole purpose of having his questions answered in class. And you had to admit, it broke you. The more you tried to be good enough, to prove your worth in class, the more he pulled back. It wasn't like he was straight out ignoring you, but after the day you had brought him coffee (which, in your eyes, had gone really well and he had seemed genuinely happy) he had still been very friendly to you, but in a forced, fake way and he was distant if possible. In one of the rare moments when you had caught him off guard in the hallway, his eyes had been a blazing storm, deeply torn and full of questions. When he had looked away, you'd known that whatever you had done wrong, it wasn't easy to be made up, if it was to be made up at all. At least he was still giving you (well deserved) top grades in all your assignments, and as long as that stayed this way you would stay away from him and try to study as hard as possible. However at the beginning of the fourth week, when you were unable to fall asleep on Monday night, you had to admit that you had been lying to yourself. Every time you had gotten the chance, you had heavily insisted that you had absolutely no feelings for and no interest in Thomas Hiddleston. But lying was getting too difficult, it was too exhausting to pretend anymore. So on Monday night, you decided that you would be honest about it, if only to yourself: you were desperately falling for him. Of course you knew that it was wrong and stupid and utterly hopeless, but you'd let yourself dream that in some other world, he could maybe be yours.

_______________

Tom had always thought that the biggest problem in his career would be a student unhappy with their grade, or maybe one of those horrible plays the faculty made their professors do every few years.

But as it turned out, his biggest problem liked to drink coffee in class and to stay at the uni's library until closing time.

The day he had found you sitting all alone in the classroom, singing along to Zombie, he had been more than determined to treat you like everyone else. But when he had heard your lovely voice, singing a song he adored, he just couldn't help but comment on it. And that's when things had started to get really difficult for him. You had brought him coffee, his favorite kind from his favorite coffee shop… of course you didn't have any ulterior motives behind that, but he had been momentarily stunned by the kind gesture. It was really uncommon, sure, but he'd appreciated it so very much… more than he should have. For that day's lecture he had noticed how his eyes had darted back to you whenever possible, and he had felt horrible about it. If it hadn't been for your keys, he would gladly have gotten some distance between you and him. And then your hands touched… and he was gone, lost in the desire to be closer to you. You had complimented his teaching, then left quickly. Oh, he had felt so stupid after that, especially when the usual bunch of female students had tackled him and followed him all the way back to his office.

During the three next weeks he had tried once again to force you out of his brain, but you made things very difficult for him. The things you knew, your brilliant opinions and ideas… he didn't even have to ask, you could always tell what he would be saying next. And if he would've let himself, he would've spent the entirety of class only talking to you. However he feared that the two of you had slipped into rather the contrary of what he wanted so badly: you stayed away from him as much as possible if not to answer a question, hardly even looking at him. And he had known it was for the better if he stayed away from you as well. He had felt creepy and wrong for wanting to be near you, and surely it would only get him in a lot of trouble if he acted on this… whatever it was.

The worst thing was that he didn't even know anything about you and he had absolutely no reason to even feel the way he did… but that's just what it was about, he WANTED to get to know you, as more than just another student. And the fact that almost every girl was practically chasing him while you did everything to stay out of his way was probably a good thing too. He didn't know if he could deal with another direct encounter with you, outside of class… he didn't know if he could keep himself from doing something stupid. Like asking you out, to grab a coffee with him. Or to help him grade the first-year assignments. Though the first idea would be more fun.

For now, on a stormy Monday night, he sat in his apartment, drinking a double Jameson on ice and asking himself if he would lose his interest in you if only he didn't act on it. After his fourth whisky he came to the lasting conclusion that he wouldn't do either: he won't allow himself to act on it, but he would allow himself to dream.

_______________

Tags:

@just-the-hiddles

@its-remy-not-ratatouille

@inmyworstlies

@lotus-eyedindiangoddess

@foodthatsgoodforyoursoul

@jessalynjones1989

@dark-night-sky-99

@hiddles-lobotomy

@shockwavee

@laudylovesyou

@maze-lt101

@cupcakeangelness

@fairlightswiftly

@lys-syl

@ordinarygirlfromasmalltown

@pinkzz123

@spookycatqueen

@wegingerangelica

@exygon

@izzy10718

@jenna-sakura

@kinghiddlestonanddixon

Everyone who's crosses out, Tumblr wouldn't let me tag! I'm very sorry about that...

If you'd like to be added to the tag list comment down below 💗✨💚

#tom hiddleston x reader #professor tom #professor hiddleston #professor loki #tom hiddleston imagine #tom hiddleston fanfiction #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x y/n #loki of asgard #loki fanfic #loki odinson #loki #loki (marvel)#loki imagine #loki series #loki fluff #wicked game

416 notes · View notes

mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

Note

Do you have any bendy and the ink machine headcanons?

Boy Anon, do I ever! A lot of them are still under the works, so I'll focus on the characters that I've thought most about.

Joey, Henry, Sammy and Norman.

---

[[MORE]]

--Joey Drew--

Came from a heavily Catholic and strict family that wanted him to either pursue a career in medicine or law. He had a rough time getting along with his family since they didn't encourage his creativity, and the religious beliefs they force-fed him from an early age had a bit of an impact on the themes he had an interest in.

Due to his background and bizarre interests Joey was a bit of a loner and misfit as a kid. Henry Stein was his only true friend since childhood, so Joey was a little protective of him. This protectiveness became an unhealthy possessiveness as they grew up.

He and Henry actually started the studios in their early thirties. Both were job hoppers for a while, adrift and unfulfilled. Once Joey figured out how to use their combined skills and creativity to make a profit, the nightmare that was Joey Drew Studios came into being.

Joey rejected Bendy's original design because he saw demons as entities of mischief and misfortune. The more cutesy kind smile simply didn't convey the chaotic energy Joey associated with such beings. Boris was also reworked to go from a naked intelligent wolf to a goofier/dumber one wearing overalls. Henry wasn't particularly happy with either change but went with it to please his friend.

Alice Angel and the Butcher Gang were also designed by Henry, but Joey disliked the idea of adding a female counterpart to the show, and wasn't particularly fond of the much nicer original concepts of Charley, Barley and Edgar. He would alter the concepts later on to better fit the themes he employed in the show.

Initially they worked alone but, when they began working on Boris' debut episode, Joey realized they needed something to add a certain flair to their work: Music and better filmwork. In a matter of weeks a team of two became a team of four with the hiring of Samuel Lawrence and Norman Polk.

Ever since Linda started dating Henry, Joey began feeling like his best pal wasn't giving 100% to the studio (and to Joey himself). As such he began to give Henry more and more work to ensure he devoted his attention to the cartoons. This ultimately lead to Henry quitting.

Joey was angry when Henry married Linda, thinking his friend had chosen "some girl" over their bond. He refused to go to their wedding due to this "betrayal" and has held a grudge since.

During the rise and decline of the studio, Joey went from charming his way out of trouble and into people's hearts, to downright criminally manipulative. The employees that managed to quit, often found themselves blacklisted from the work market, and those who stayed knew Joey could destroy them with the right words. It's why so many stayed in the end...

When the Ink Machine didn't work the way he wanted and he found himself stuck with the responsibility of fixing what he'd done, there had been a fraction of a chance for redemption on Joey's part. Joey considered giving his soul to the Ink Demon so it'd end the nightmare for good. However upon finding the wedding invitation Henry had sent him all those years ago, Joey had a change of heart for the worst. After all what soul could be better to fix the demon, than that of its original creator?

--Henry Stein--

Henry Stein didn't know what he was getting himself into when he met and befriended Joey Drew. He'd always been the soft-spoken friendlier of the two, so their dynamic as friends was pretty well rounded up, until Joey became obcessed with becoming successful, as well as his overprotective nature slowly evolving into a controlling possessiveness.

Henry came from a pretty average family. They weren't exactly well-off but there was never a day or night without food on the table. He grew up aware of the value of money and how to spend it wisely, a skill he never got to employ at the studio because Joey had full control of finances. He had a feeling the studio was doomed to flop and was actually quite surprised to hear it chugging along "just fine" after he'd left. The various scandals didn't surprise him.

Henry was a little hurt when Joey declined his invitation to his and Linda's wedding, but he assumed his childhood friend would get over it. He was terribly wrong.

His original concepts for Bendy and Co. were of a cute little devil trying to do good to ascend to heaven, a fatherly wolf that would help the little devil darling, an angel sent to test the devil's intentions as a moral compass, and a trio of friends that would often be a part of Bendy's various trials. Joey's redesigns and reworks of their roles never really agreed with him, especially when he made the kind Charley, amicable Barley, and playful Edgar into villains.

He was drafted to fight in the war and came back with a slightly paralyzed face. He's ashamed of the slightly permanent lopsided smile on his face, as he always thought of it as an ugly smirk and a reminder of things he'd much rather like to forget. His vision was also slightly damaged so he wears very thick glasses, and he has a slight limp.

Joey's letter gave him hope for rekindling their broken friendship. He really thought Joey had finally come around and given up on his childish grudge. He was horrifically mistaken.

Henry is 67 in-game. Coupled with his injuries from the war and you get an old tired man that can neither run fast or see too well. His stubbornness is the only thing keeping him alive and going, that and his desire to return to his wife and kids.

--Samuel Lawrence--

He was raised in the South by his very strict Catholic father, and his kindly mother. He ended up moving to the big city with his father at age 11, after his mother died of tuberculosis. His mother having been the kinder and more patient parent meant that Sammy didn't have much of a good influence growing up, as his father wasn't particularly abusive but had strongly bigoted views that rubbed off on him. His father remarried when Sammy was 24 and, although he had a strong dislike for his step-mother, he tried to be patient with her as per his father's wishes. This dislike grew into animosity when she'd berate him for the smallest things, like calling him a sissy for pursuing a musical career, or even the way he kept his hair. He was upset when she became pregnant with his younger step-sister, feeling like he'd be dragged into providing for his aging father, witch of a step-mother and a kid he might not even get along with.

Sammy was genuinely upset when his father passed away, as it meant he'd lost who he considered to be his true family. He was forced to spend more time with his step-mother, and often cared for his little sister as a result (growing very fond of her in the end). When his step-mother died in a freak accident, Sammy became his sister's official caregiver. A chore he felt had been forced upon him, but that he took on nontheless because he didn't feel right just dumping a two year old into an orphanage. It was the need to provide for himself and a baby that ultimately lead to him falling into Joey Drew's clutches.

Originally there were three other candidates for his position at the studio. Sammy was picked due to being younger and easier to manipulate.

Although not the easiest person to get along with, Sammy could be respectful when he tried. His upbringing made it very difficult to look past race and sexuality, but later on as his sister grew up she urged him to try being nicer to other people. This ultimately began to fail when the studio began to descend into madness, especially around the time Buddy was hired.

For his sister's seventh birthday Sammy made an odd request to one Shawn Flynn. He wanted to gift her a Bendy doll that didn't have the unnerving grin painted on. Shawn provided him with a doll that was a blend of Bendy and Boris, which Sammy's sister named Seamus the Singing Demon. That little doll's odd composition stuck with him, even if he can no longer remember it...

He had a very strange relationship with Norman Polk as a result of working closely with him. They weren't exactly friends, but one couldn't exactly call them enemies either. Sammy's upbringing made him unjustly ruder towards the older man, and Norman's own odd behaviour made him hard to trust. At the end of the day they had a sort of fragile respect for one another's work. This respect couldn't save Norman from his terrible fate however...

He knew Henry for less than a year but he respected his fellow content creator. Later on Sammy often wondered if the co-founder wouldn't have been the one more worthy of keeping the studio afloat.

His romance with Susie Campbell was genuinely beautiful. At first he found her cheery disposition to be annoying, but her respect and kindness towards him eventually grew on him. His affection towards her was noticeable in comparison to how he treated others, and Joey knew to exploit it later on. When Susie left, the already stressed and overworked Sammy was left further distraught and vulnerable due to his personal life slowly getting messed up as well.

Sammy's transformation can be considered an outlier within the twisted studio. He wasn't put through the Ink Machine like the others, having instead ingested the corrupted ink in a freak accident. The amount he swallowed wasn't enough to transform him, but it was just enough to alter his mindset like a parasite. At the urging on the ink he took to consuming more and more of it, until he transformed into an abomination that was neither man nor toon. If any of the studio's workers could have their changes reversed, Sammy is a good candidate as, perhaps, one could purge the tainted ink from his system.

Sammy has very rare moments of lucidity which he spends trying to recall his fading memories. This often leads to him reverting back more quickly because his inability to focus on them distressed him enough that he falls back into the ink's grasp.

Sammy doesn't eat the soup he stockpiles, even if he craves it. He can't stomach regular food anymore, as it upsets his inky stomach. If he were to try he'd end up getting violently sick. The contrary can be said for ink however, and he sustains himself on the stuff. His memory issues and loss of identity are likely linked the the copious amounts of ink he's still consuming on a daily basis. He's the easiest person for the ink to control.

--Norman Polk--

Norman liked to consider himself a lucky guy. He grew up in a pretty poor neighbourhood and had to scrape by to get his education. He was a clever individual and often considered a bright man. With enough hard work he felt like he made his relatives in Louisiana proud. Turns out Joey Drew didn't like bright individuals...

As one the oldest member of staff (he was 46 when he started working at the studio) he was often the voice of reason in the earlier days, alongside Henry. Most of the newer staff didn't mind him at first, but when Norman's odder behaviours became more noticeable people started finding him either creepy or hard to trust.

He butted heads with Sammy several times, disliking the younger man's racist comments towards him. Being forced to work together so closely and a little outside urging helped them kinda resolve that tension. But their truce was a fragile one that amounted to nothing when Sammy was driven insane by the ink.

He was married and had a daughter. In the current game timeline he has several grandkids. He also has several nieces and nephews, one of which is friends with Sammy's sister (much to the latter's initial dislike).

Out of the first core team, Norman considered Henry a friend, had a weird feeling about Joey, and bickered heavily with Sammy. Later on he grew to enjoy Wally's mischievous personality, Shawn's rambunctious self, Susie's sweet disposition, Jack's skittishness and Buddy's friendliness. He felt like he failed them when the studio went to hell.

As the Projectionist Norman is deaf and visually impaired, needing his light to see movement. He used to be able to talk with the speaker on his chest, but his screams for help eventually short-circuited it. Early on he wasn't aggressive towards other creatures, which proved to be an exploitable weakness. He became uncontrollably aggressive out of fear and being a constant target of other monsters.

Before the Ink Demon kills him in every cycle, Norman recognizes Henry inside the Little Miracle station.

#Bendy and the Ink Machine #Batim #Joey Drew #Henry Stein #Sammy Lawrence #Norman Polk #The Projectionist #Headcanons #Friend Anon

25 notes · View notes

miracleboiz · 4 years

Text

Making a Home Ch.14

Kita Shinsuke had experienced a lot in life. He had been raised with his grandmother, a loving foster parent and for some time he followed in her foot steps before finding his own path. He thought his foster care license had expired before getting a call at three am with two small boys thrust into his arms. Miya Osamu and Atsumu, from broken homes but still fighting. Thirty days before his license expires. Thirty days to make a choice, keep the boys or let them be separated into different homes. Thirty days to fall in love with them.

Words: 4k

Relationships: Gen

Warnings: Mention of past child abuse, non-graphic abuse

Not from Kita, but it is mentioned. I will post any warnings before any panic attacks or vague descriptions of abuse.

Read below or on AO3

Atsumu didn’t actually mind Shinji and Hitoshi, they were fun to talk to between classes. Still, the moment the bell rang for lunch he took off between the desks until he could stand by his brother’s side. His brother was animatedly explaining something about what Atsumu could only assume was cooking because he didn’t understand any of it.

“Samu?” Atsumu reached to poke his shoulder, unnerved by the quiet and neutral face his brother had adopted. The moment his brother saw him however, he brightened, twisting and grabbing his brother by his arms and dragging him closer.

“Tsumu! I made friends,” Osamu explained as he turned back around, “this is Suna Rintaro and Matsukawa Shigeru! Guys this is my brother, Atsumu!”

Atsumu turned his gaze to the other two, narrowing his eyes at the blank look on Rintaro’s face before turning and nodding his head politely to Shigeru. They didn’t look like bullies, and Shigeru was Shinji’s brother but Atsumu still didn’t trust them. Osamu was nicer than he was to other people and they tended to think he could be bullied easier.

“Nice to meet you Atsumu-kun.” Shigeru chirped, pulling out a bento from his bag and nudging Rintaro in the shoulder as he stood. “Don’t be rude.”

“You’re the rude one, go away.” Rintaro said back but he was quick to join Shigeru’s side as they moved to stand in front of Osamu’s chair. “Don’t be mean to Hitoshi-kun, he cries a lot.”

“It’s true, I do.” Hitoshi’s voice came from Atsumu’s elbow seconds before he felt the slightly smaller child lean against him. “My Okasan says I have a gentle soul but Neesan says I’m a baby.”

Rintaro curled his lip up at that but the look fell away a second later when Osamu stood up and joined them. Osamu grinned brightly at him, bouncing slightly on his heels.

“Are we going for lunch outside now?” He chirped to Rintaro and Atsumu’s stomach dropped. Had Osamu already decided they were better than his own brother? Was he going to leave Atsumu alone for his new friends?

The panic only had a few seconds to well up before Osamu’s grinning face was facing Atsumu. He didn’t seem to notice anything different about his brother as he clutched his lunch close to his chest.

“Rin-kun was telling me about this really nice spot where they eat lunch next to the flower garden. He said he’d show us!” Osamu chirped cheerfully, eyes wide and bright with excitement. Atsumu breathed a sigh of relief.

Us meant so much more to him then Osamu realized. If he didn’t have Osamu, who did he have?

Part of him whispered that Shinsuke wanted him but he shut that down quickly. Osamu was everyone’s favorite, if Shinsuke wanted to adopt either of them it was definitely going to be Osamu. Nobody wanted Atsumu and that wasn’t going to change over the course of a month.

“Oh cool… I forgot my lunch, wait a minute.” Atsumu turned back to his desk, neatly stepping around Hitoshi who seemed to gravitate to Rintaro’s side.

“We’ll go on ahead, just tell Shinji to bring you over.” Shigeru hummed.

“Wai-” Atsumu blinked as he watched his brother walk out with him, only a single cheerful wave letting him know he wasn’t being dragged along. He didn’t even have a full minute to respond before they were gone and he was left standing nervously in the center of the aisle.

“Atsumu-kun?” Shinji’s voice came from his right and he turned, looking at his fellow student on the other side of the desks looking rather concerned for him. In his hand he had two lunches, one of them Atsumu’s.

“You left this, I was worried you might have to run all the way back. Sorry.” Shinji dipped his head apologetically as he passed him the box. Atsumu cradled it, shaking his head.

“It’s fine… thank you… You… Your brother said you knew where they were going?” Atsumu said slowly, trying to breathe. He tried to focus on the cloth under his finger tips rather than the replaying image of Osamu happily walking away from him. Oomimi had bought it for him, letting Atsumu pick out the Totodile design when he’d taken the twins out to buy fresh ingredients on Sunday.

“Yeah, I usually eat in class so I can work on homework before I go home, but I don’t mind eating with you guys.” Shinji was cheerful, not so loud Atsumu felt overwhelmed or close like Hitoshi, but enough to make him take a breath.

“Could you… s-show… show me?” Atsumu pushed the words out, trying not to feel nauseous the longer Osamu was away. This wasn’t like being at Shinsuke’s where Akagi and the others were watching out for them.

Shinsuke had made sure all the adults at the store knew about Osamu’s allergies, but none of the kids here knew and Osamu didn’t pay attention to things before eating them. He’d eaten things he was allergic to so many times already and just thinking about it was making Atsumu sick.

“Yeah! C’mon Atsumu.” Shinji didn’t say anything about the panic that seemed to be growing on Atsumu’s face, instead he just stepped forward and led the way out of the classroom.

“How long are you and Osamu going to be staying with Kita-san?” Shinji asked as they walked. Atsumu glanced at him, expecting the normal taunting looks but instead Shinji was just blinking at him innocently and Atsumu remembered Shigeru was adopted too.

“Another three weeks… then we have to go again… Moniw- my social worker said Shinsuke-kun is only taking care of us as a favor until his license expires.” Atsumu said, remembering how Moniwa had whispered it to Officer Kuroo before Kenma had managed to bring them to a separate room.

“Hmm…” Shinji seemed to be thinking hard as he stepped out of the building and led them towards a garden. He spun right before they arrived, silver eyes narrowed in steely stubbornness that reminded Atsumu of Oikawa when he was trying to steal Akaashi’s pens.

“If Kita-san doesn’t adopt you, then I’ll ask my Dads.” Shinji said seriously. “Then you won’t have to worry about moving around ever again.”

Osamu wasn’t quite sure that he really understood what was going on between Rintaro and Shigeru, but he did know Shigeru hadn’t lied before. Rintaro had immediately wrapped a friendly arm around Hitoshi’s shoulders when they sat down, quietly asking him if he’d had any issues on the school work before pulling away when Hitoshi shook his head.

Rintaro had opened up his bento almost immediately after, quickly grabbing the piece of chicken and throwing it at Shigeru’s face. The scream caught Osamu by surprise and he looked over to see it in Shigeru’s hair instead.

“You… are such a-” He dissolved into angry words in a language Osamu didn’t know but definitely didn’t sound like Japanese or English. Rintaro, on the other hand, looked rather pleased with himself as he turned back to his plate and started to eat out of it. Osamu was squished between Shigeru and Hitoshi as the silver haired kid reached over with chopsticks and stole the entirety of a nigiri and shoved it into Rintaro’s face.

“Oh no.” Hitoshi whined, tugging Osamu backwards as Rintaro gasped and sputtered. “Shinji-kun is the only one who can stop them when they start fighting like this.”

“Why are they even fighting?” Osamu asked, squeaking in surprise as the two put their lunches on the ground and Shigeru jumped forward to tackle Rintaro into the grass.

“They just like it I think. They used to both be in the same Taekwondo class until a few months ago when Rin-kun’s mom stopped taking him, ever since then they just start fighting when they feel like it.” Hitoshi reached forward, carefully laying the lid back onto Rintaro’s bento and moving it away from the kicking feet.

“That’s kinda weird.” Osamu hummed, watching them shove themselves apart and stand up before Rintaro was throwing a punch and ramming forward until he could trip Shigeru with his foot and they were down again scuffling.

“Hey! What are you two doing? Stop it!” Shinji’s voice rang out seconds before Osamu realized he’d been nearby with Atsumu. “Shigeru, bad!”

“Oh it’s Shinji-kun.” Hitoshi’s face seemed to turn pink as he looked over at their classmate and Osamu tilted his head at him, curious. Maybe Shinji was scarier than Shigeru and Rintaro?

“He started it!” A voice shouted from the pile of limbs as Shinji passed over his lunch to Atsumu and ran over to try and pull them apart.

Atsumu seemed to almost appear beside Osamu and he looked up at his brother excitedly. This school was a thousand times more interesting than any of their previous ones and the kids were friendlier.

“Hi!” He chirped, patting the spot next to him. “Shigeru-kun and Rin-kun are fighting.”

“I… noticed. Are you okay though?” Atsumu said, barely casting a glance at the mess beside them. Osamu nodded quickly, not wanting to worry his brother at all.

He had felt a little bad leaving him behind, but this was the first time he felt comfortable at school and he didn’t want that to stop because he was being a baby about his brother. He didn’t feel like he was waiting for the kids to mock him like he had at the last school. Shigeru was adopted just like him and Rintaro didn’t care about that at all. Hitoshi was really nice even if he was more quiet and Shinji seemed like he liked Atsumu a lot.

That was more than Osamu had even hoped to think about getting from school.

“They didn’t fight me, just each other. Sit down ‘Tsumu. We hafta eat, remember what Shinsuke-kun said about eating all of our meals.” Osamu lectured his brother, ignoring the annoyed scowl that grew on his face. Atsumu always got grumpy around new kids, he just didn’t seem to like them though Osamu had never understood why.

“Do not make me break you two up!” Shinji almost seemed to whine as he stood above the wriggling pile of limbs. “... You two… you’re going to get in trouble… Fine…”

Like Shigeru, Shinji seemed to be fluent in another language because he started mumbling in it as he reached down and grabbed an arm and started stepping backwards, pulling Rinataro off of his brother. Shigeru straightened up on the ground, looking around for his friend before he spotted him and immediately started laughing.

“Shut up! You fight him!” Rintaro yelled at him, kicking his feet petulantly and Shinji whined, lowering him down.

“Will you two stop fighting? Please? Atsumu and Osamu deserve a peaceful lunch on their first day- I’m too old for this.” Shinji sighed as Shigeru took advantage of Rintaro’s position to tackle him to the ground and try to sit on his lap.

“Who are you? Tatay? You’re only a month older than me.” Shiger stuck out his tongue, yelling when Rintaro shoved him off and tried to kick him.

“It’s a very long month every year… I’m telling Papa, stop fighting you two.” Shinji tried to intervene again, this time using his few centimeters of height to his advantage and wrapping his arms around Shigeru’s chest and dragging him backwards towards the rest of them. “The tree is a safe zone, stop it.”

“You’re the worst big brother ever!” Shigeru complained, though he was only met with an eye roll and a few more feet of being dragged as Shinji couldn’t carry him. He finally put his feet down and let himself be led back and sat at the base of the tree beside Atsumu.

“I win.” Rintaro said proudly, taking his spot beside Hitoshi.

They both glared at each other before dissolving into laughter, both of their hair wild messes. Their uniforms were covered in dirt and grass and Shigeru was sporting a shoe print on his calf that Shinji was trying to wipe off. They both had sticks in their hair and their faces were bright red with excitement and effort.

“I don’t… understand.” Atsumu mumbled to his brother. Sure, he and Osamu wrestled a lot but that was usually when they were upset with each other. They had never just wrestled to have fun or risk their clothes getting dirty.

“Me neither… Isn’t it fun?” Osamu grinned back at him, excitement and hope bright in his eyes.

Atsumu blinked once then nodded. He could only hope Shinsuke would offer to adopt Osamu so that look would never go away from his brother again.

“I’m not sure I understand what happened here.” Shinsuke said slowly, looking down at Akagi who was on the ground. Oomimi had taken off his own jacket and shoved it onto Akagi backwards to keep him trapped and tied the arms behind Akagi’s back.

“Akagi kept poking Ren’s stomach through the coat,” Aran sighed, shaking his head at the laugh that escaped Akagi. “We thought this would help but he just sat down and said he was waiting for you.”

“You are, officially, the only one who can curb the chaos.” Oomimi said darkly, looking into the distance. The three of them looked at him, following his gaze for a moment before looking back at each other.

“Okay?... Oomimi, please help Akagi up and remove the jacket. Akagi, stop purposely bothering people for attention.” Shinsuke chuckled softly, ignoring the soft whine that came from his friend as he moved to sit down on the bench in front of the shoe stand. He quickly removed his own shoes and pulled on the ice skates instead.

A broad hand entered his gaze as he tied the last string and he looked up to see Aran offering his hand. Shinsuke couldn’t help the smile that curled up on his lips as he took the offer and let Aran pull him up easily.

His stance wavered and he slipped, falling against Aran for a moment before he managed to get his feet under him.

“Ah, sorry. It’s been a very long time since I last skated.” Shinsuke said softly, trying not to think about the amusement twinkling in Aran’s eyes as he held him up. It really wasn’t fair that Aran had to come and be attractive.

“Don’t worry about it, you good?” Aran asked, carefully wrapping his hand around Shinsuke’s elbow to help hold him up. The words ‘you look good’ started to rise up before Shinsuke smacked them down, nodding to him instead.

He didn’t pull away immediately though, when was the last time he’d actually taken the time to think about anything romantically? Aran wasn’t the only person he’d liked in his life, but he’d been the only one Shinsuke could definitively say he’d be happy spending the rest of his life with even after high school ended and they only saw each other every few months. Even now after nearly three years of little contact. Aran was still one of his best friends and the one he’d thought about sharing his life with.

Shinsuke could hear Akagi’s laughter in the background and his cheeks pinked. He pulled away, nearly swaying before the hand tightened on his elbow and another moved to his hip steadying him. Aran wasn’t looking at him anymore, instead he was rolling his eyes over at Akagi.

“Stop it, you spent the first half hour crying into my arm that you were scared of the ice.” Aran said, carefully loosening his grip on Shinsuke as he straightened up but he didn’t pull away. Akagi still looked far too amused for a twenty eight year old trapped in a jacket as he watched the two of them.

“That was clearly a ploy because I love you, Aran-kun.” Akagi purred, yelping when Oomimi flicked his ear. “What! Don’t be jealous ‘Mimi! You’re my absolute favoritest person ever.”

“That’s a punishment.” Oomimi drawled, glancing over at the other two with an amused but gentle look. “Can I please leave him tied up like this?”

“No,” Shinsuke sighed, trying not to think of how Aran shook as he laughed beside him and the cold feeling taking over the spot Aran’s hand had laid on his hip. “That would be mean, please let him go.”

Oomimi let out a sigh before he turned to release their friend and Shinsuke turned back to Aran. Even bundled up against the cold of the ice skating rink, he was attractive and Shinsuke was pretty sure this was punishment for all his years of refusing to date just to annoy Oikawa and Sugawara. A better reason would have been just lack of interest but he had to choose the one that involved driving them crazy trying to find him someone to date.

Aran’s eyes met his a second later, still just as warm and accepting as they’d ever been. Shinsuke couldn’t help but regret letting them grow apart years ago. Even if Aran hadn’t been part of his plan, he was a fool for letting his best friend drift away.

“Let’s get to skating before Akagi does something and Oomimi leaves hmm?” Aran teased, eyes not leaving Shinsuke’s for a second this time. Shinsuke just nodded, no words available to him just a warm feeling of home in his chest.

It took only a few minutes to wrangle the two towards the rink which was thankfully rather empty considering most people were working at ten in the morning on a Monday. No one was particularly bothered by Akagi’s loud chatter compared to the few too-young for school children racing around the rink.

Akagi himself was very politely shoved onto the ice by Oomimi the moment they stepped up to the gate and nearly fell on his face before he caught himself. He spun around, easily keeping himself up as he grinned at his three best friends.

“C’mon slowpokes.” He chirped, turning back around and taking off.

“He makes me feel old,” Oomimi said, turning to look at Aran and Shinsuke. His gaze dropped to the gentle hold Aran had on Shinsuke’s elbow and the way the shorter man leaned into his presence and something softened in his eyes as his lips turned up into a gentle smile.

He didn’t say anything else despite Shinsuke’s concerned look and simply slid out onto the ice and waved before taking off after Akagi.

“Did you know those two could skate?” Shinsuke asked, watching them wide eyed and Aran sighed.

“Nope. Especially when they both spent the first half hour trying to pull me to the floor until you arrived.” Aran said dryly, lips curling slightly as Akagi skated in front of them after his second loop.

“Just preparing you for our dearest Shinsuke-kun. It’s been six years since he last skated after all, he’s going to really need your help.” Akagi chirped, winking at them to both of their confusion. “Have fun, I have to go.”

Akagi took off right as Oomimi slid in behind him, nearly sending Oomimi into the wall before he corrected himself and chased after Akagi instead.

Shinsuke snorted softly, wondering how he could have forgotten how Akagi managed to get everyone into a competitive move. Even Aran was shuffling like he wanted nothing more than to run Akagi down and beat him in a race.

Shinsuke looked up as he realized that Aran wasn’t moving anymore, surprised to find himself being watched. The smile on his lips lifted higher without being told too and he shifted until he could curl his arm around Aran’s, ignoring the internal Tooru cheering him on.

“Please don’t let me fall on my face,” Shinsuke said, moving to take his first step on the ice. Aran’s arm tightened and he stepped after him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

#Haikyuu #HQ #Miya Atsumu #Miya Osamu #Kita Shinsuke #Arankita #fanfiction #Making a home AU

16 notes · View notes

corpse--diem · 4 years

Text

Girls Just Wanna Be Shady | Marley & Erin

With: @detectivedreameater

Some peace and quiet. That’s all Erin wanted out of this day. The past few weeks had bled into each other until they’d been a garble of panic, blood, and tears. God, she was tired of it. Tired in general, really, but the dead never slept. So here she was, thankfully, back to work. This was normal. A very normal distraction. Until she heard the old lift machinery kicking to life across the room. Dale? Wasn’t he a little early for his usual pick-up? Erin reached for the scalpel on the table beside her, silently cursing herself for not just buying a goddamn gun for herself. Apparently people just thought it was okay to keep on waltzing the fuck into her basement like they owned the place. But that wasn’t who the elevator door opened up to. A woman, dark hair, attractive, and definitely not Dale. But judging by the black bag behind her, she couldn’t help but wonder if she knew him. “Sure. Just walk right in. This isn’t trespassing at all,” she shrugged, that tight knit of anxiety still bundled in her gut. Glanced at the bag behind the woman. “I’m guessing you don’t have any official paperwork for this one?”

“It’s not trespassing if I have a key,” Marley said nonchalantly. The bag behind her was slumped against the wall, the bitter remains of an old balam who had passed away in the middle of the night. She’d underestimated the strength of his heart, and found herself woefully stuck with a dead body at 2am. But it was okay, because Jack Nichols owed her one. Except, she suddenly found herself staring at someone else. Younger, attractive, nice cheekbones. Marley even pulled her sunglasses off, her red eyes glowing in the dim light of the basement she’d visited so many times. “Oh, shit,” she said, suddenly, “he’s dead, isn’t it?” She finally stepped off the elevator, glancing around. “You his daughter, then? He mentioned you a few times. Though he never mentioned how much nicer looking you are than him.” She gave a little smirk before pointing to the bag. “It’s a balam. Lots of good kitty parts in there for you to harvest. You...do still do this, right? I don’t have to like, re-uhhh...up our deal?” Slid her jacket back just enough to show the badge on her hip, giving Erin an innocent smile.

Erin did hear what this woman had to say. The words processed and sat there, waiting for her brain to react. But she was stuck staring at the red eyes she so nonchalantly revealed to her. Right. She was still talking. She knew her dad. Didn’t know her dad was dead though. Well, for good this time. Still fucking haunting her, apparently. “You have cats in there?” She narrowed her eyes. Balam. Was that a type of cat? Didn’t click right away that the bag was far too big for some housecat. When she flashed that badge, Erin actually felt her knees buckle, her chest tightening, like the wind had just been knocked out of her. Fuck this. This woman was a cop. It was over. Fuck fuck fuck. She’d be better, Erin remembered promising herself. She’d be better than he was. She wasn’t a coward. Not even close. It took a moment to gather her thoughts but she stood a little taller than before, meeting the red eyes watching her very carefully. “Jack’s dead, yeah. You’ll have to refresh me on that deal you two made. He didn’t exactly leave a lot of notes in his will about this side of the business, as you can probably imagine.”

“No, not cats,” Marley snapped, a little irritated. “A balam. It is in cat form, ironically, though. He woke up and freaked out and changed. Dumbass.” Clearly Erin didn’t know as much as her father did. Made Marley wonder if he was trying to get her out of this business when he kicked the bucket. In fact, he probably kicked the bucket trying that. He had too many clients for that to happen. The Nichols family was going to be in this business for generations to come, Marley was sure. “Hmm, poor Jack. My condolences, or whatever. Although, maybe not? Doesn’t seem like he left you a good deal, exactly. If you’re not...aware of all this.” She leaned up against the cadaver table and folded her arms across her chest. “Our deal, is that he takes care of anything I bring him, no questions asked, and I make sure the police don’t poke their noses where they shouldn’t belong in his business. All the profits from this little venture have to be swept under a run somehow, right?”

This woman had some nerve getting annoyed with her when she’d showed up unannounced with a sack of dead whatevers in tow. Erin rolled her eyes at her flippant condolences, though didn’t move from her side of the table, tightly squeezing the scalpel just out of her sight. As if attacking her would do anything but escalate her trouble with the police, it made her feel safer. Not by much, though. “He did one fucking thing right, at least,” she sighed out heavily. Protection went a long way, especially through law enforcement. Finally, she set the tool down, covered the decedent she’d been working on, and pulled off her gloves. “Sounds like a good deal, honestly,” she said, making a genuine effort to make her tone friendlier. She needed this connection like she needed air. Came around to the elevator before dragging her eyes back up to the other woman. “Erin,” she nodded at her, offering her a hand. They were business partners now afterall. “You’re right. He didn’t. Seems like I get a fun new surprise every day. But it’s nothing I can’t handle, I assure you” she smiled, then turned her head to the body. “Mind giving me a hand?”

Marley watched Erin closely, watched her face cycle through the emotions, as she was trying to decide what the best course of action here was. It was, of course, to agree to the deal again. Otherwise the police would be in this house tomorrow and they’d find everything they’d need to convict Erin for four lifetimes. Still, it was ultimately her decision to make. Marley wouldn’t take that away from her. Even if it was a rigged deal. “Hey, gotta make sure the business is protected, right?” She smiled finally, a genuine smile, though it looked a little out of place on her face. “Detective Stryder. But you can call me Marley.” She took Erin’s hand firmly, letting her feel how cold her own was. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at the body bag still in the elevator. “Jack never made me help, you know,” she said, glancing sideways at Erin, “didn’t he usually have a squirrely assistant around? Or am I thinking of someone else?” She shrugged. “Well, for you, I suppose I can help.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Erin nodded, noting her hands were colder than her own usually were. It was weird hearing her father’s name being thrown around in casual conversation like this. “Uh--Allen?” Erin cleared her throat, avoiding Marley’s eyes as she leaned down, grabbing the bag by the head. Whatever was in here, cat-people or otherwise, was heavy. Heavier than a human corpse usually was. “Much appreciated,” she groaned as she spoke, dragging the bag with her towards an empty table until she couldn’t go much further without Marley’s help. “My dad, uh--let him go,” she explained quickly, not really in the mood to dive into that zombie hell storm she’d just escaped from. “What if I promised whiskey for your generous assistance? I have that, and lots of it,” She caught her breath, raising a brow at Marley, hands on her hips. Smiled a little more genuinely this time and leaned down to grab the bag again. “I have a feeling his partner-relations skills needed a little work but I do try to please.”

“Allen!” Marley said, giving a snap and a headshake. “That’s right. Little weird Allen. Squirrely fella. Sad to hear he’s gone.” She shook her head, still not moving, finding it entertaining to watch erin try and drag the bag across the room herself. She gave a little chuckle. “Now you’re talking my language,” she finally pushed away from her spot and came over to where Erin was, leaning down and grabbing the feet. “On three,” she said, hefting the body up with her at the end of the count. It thudded loudly onto the table and Marley gave it a satisfying slap. “I think you’ll find this one full of lots of good parts. Poor fella woke up during a feeding and thought turning into a cat of all things would help him. Obviously, it didn’t.”

Ah, yes. Poor little weird Allen. He’d never been Erin’s favorite but not even he had deserved to go down at the wrong end of his dead ex-employer. As loyal as he’d been to her father, it seemed mildly appropriate after the fact. She blew out a hard breath after the bag was squarely on the table. “A cat,” Erin echoed, the disbelief evident in her voice. “I don’t know why I’m surprised anymore. I’ve already got two werewolves under my belt,” she gave a wry smile. Not entirely ready to dive right into it, she turned to the cabinet across from her and pulled out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey. “Hope you don’t mind it neat. I wouldn’t use the ice down here,” she glanced up as she poured one for the detective, handing it off. Quiet for a moment as she raised the glass to her lips. “So,” she watched her, gesturing towards Marley. “Are we going to talk about the red eye thing you’ve got going on here or are we just brushing that under the rug too?”

“Cat, jaguar,” Marley rolled her shoulders, gave a shrug, “same thing, right? They’re just bigger cats. Though, I’ve always had a fondness for cats. They’ve never liked me, though.” She frowned, remembering all the times animals had hissed or barked and snapped at her. Not that she cared. Of course she didn’t. She looked back over at Erin, pocketing her sunglasses. “Neat is my second favorite way to enjoy whiskey,” she said with a grin, taking the glass gratefully. Sipped it just as Erin spoke her question. Finally. Marley had wondered how long it would take. It was usually the first thing people asked. She could’ve bothered to keep them covered, but there was no point here. Erin, like Jack, was someone Marley didn’t have to hide her true nature from. At least, she hoped Erin was like that. “Do you like them? I’ve been told I have very alluring eyes,” she teased, setting her glass down and sauntering over to Erin. “Wanna see why?”

Jaguar? Erin flinched at the thought of what she was going to uncover under that zipper, opting to take a large sip of the whiskey she’d poured for herself instead. There was something about the detective that unnerved her--the red eyes didn’t help, sure, but there was more to it than that. It was almost like watching a sarcastic, attractive villain slither around and get under the hero’s skin. Erin was far from a hero, but Marley was certainly finding a way in. Her gaze never left Marley’s, standing firmly in place, even when she grew closer. They had a deal, and she’d given the woman whiskey for crying out loud. She wouldn’t hurt her. Probably. Hopefully. She swallowed, her heart pounding harder than before. “They’re pretty unique,” she teased back, a small smirk on her lips. “I do. But why does it feel like I’m going to regret this?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Marley said, noticing the way Erin was looking at her as she made her way over. “I’m not gonna hurt you. I like you, and I don’t hurt people I like.” In all honesty, she also didn’t like hurting people just to hurt them. She used her powers to get what she wanted and what she needed, and that was it. It was never just about hurting people. She glanced down at Erin’s shirt, making sure not to look her in the eyes just yet. “But you are going to regret it, probably,” she said, before finally looking back up and meeting her gaze. The petrification would have been instant, her body freezing place, before red eyes consumed her and whatever fear she’d been hiding deep inside her chest burst forth. Marley’s arms tingled as she filled with excitement. She wanted to know what Erin’s fear was, but she’d stay out of it this time. This would be both a demonstration...and a warning. Of what stepping out of line might do.

Erin barely had a chance to blink before all she saw was red. The room around her faded to black, her body frozen. But all she saw, all she felt was red. Suddenly she was standing in the embalming room alone. The red morphed into flashing red lights, bouncing off of the walls. Police lights. Sirens screaming from outside. An icy chill punched her in the spine when she heard the door burst open upstairs. Dozens of footsteps thundered above her. Oh no. Oh fuck. Dread and crippling shame consumed her, made it hard to breathe. Handcuffs were slapped on her wrists and she was fighting them, as if this would suddenly change her fate. It only made the reporters lining her lawn all the more eager to shove their microphones in her face. “No!” She finally yelled, digging her heels in at the sight of the cop car. Her heart pounded, chest tightening, and she could feel the burning in the back of her eyes. “Stop!”

Marley didn’t look, this time, at what the fear was. She didn’t need to know in order for this to work. She barely even fed. This was just a display. Erin’s plea to stop was enough for her to blink and step away, putting her glasses back on. Not that she felt bad, but Erin wasn’t anywhere near as fun to toy with as Deirdre or other high stakes people. She had just wanted to give her a little taste. A little warning. Once Erin had stopped panting and come out of her vision, Marley held out her cup of whiskey to her. “You okay now?” she asked, concern in her voice. Whether or not it was genuine wasn’t relevant. She didn’t want to have to use that one Erin. Her father had reacted in a similar manner, after all. And he’d never stepped out of line after. “I told you it was special.”

Erin could have sworn she felt the officer’s hand on the back of her head, guiding her into the back of the car when reality came rushing back. Her legs hadn’t caught up with her mind, buckling beneath her as she struggled to hold onto the table beside her to keep from completely falling on her ass. “What the fuck?” she whispered coarsely. “Yeah, real fucking special. What are you?” she grumbled. Closed her eyes, shaking her head, trying to let the cool concrete under her knees ground her again. She didn’t know what the fuck Marley was but she sure as shit wasn’t going to make that mistake again. When she was finally able to stand without shaking, she took the drink and gulped it back in one go. Avoided eye contact completely as she went right for the whiskey bottle, the glass clinking against her cup. Wasn’t about to dig into the balam with her hands shaking like this anyway.

Marley frowned a little. “Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to ask a lady what she is?” she said, quirking a brow. “Or was he too busy selling organs on the black market?” It was meant to be a light-hearted tease, but Marley often got those moments wrong. “Too...too soon?” she asked, watching Erin pour another glass of whiskey for herself. She gave a soft chuckle. “I’m going to trust that you’ll never tell anyone this, but--” she put her glasses back on, just to comfort her. Most people didn’t know that mara could control when they caused the fear, and Marley wanted to keep it that way. “I’m something called a mara. Living nightmares, fear incarnate-- yadda yadda. Anyway,” she downed the rest of her drink and held the glass out for Erin to fill up again, “we feed on fear. Mostly by making people see visions of what they fear most, or through nightmares.”

Was Marley seriously trying to joke around with her right now? Unbelievable. Erin finally lifted her eyes to the other woman once the glasses were back on, nursing that second glass of whiskey. “Too soon,” she answered, blunt and annoyed now, though that was mostly the residual fear talking. Mara. Fear and nightmare machines. She nodded her head slowly at Marley’s explanation, watching the amber liquid glide along the edges of the glass. “You could’ve just said that,” she grumbled, taking another long sip out of her new glass. Stared at the glass Marley held out for her to refill, trying to think of anything but what she’d just experienced. Because of Marley. “I won’t tell anyone,” she finally answered, reaching for the bottle and pouring it into her cup. “But if you pull that shit on me again, I’d like to remind you who has the keys to the crematory,” she raised a brow, her tone playful. Mostly.

“Sure, I guess,” Marley shrugged, “but where’s the fun in that? People need to relax more around here.” Humans were always complaining about how “horrible” it was experiencing their fears. Fear was a natural thing, a natural emotion. They needed to get over it, really. It was a shame supernaturals held their fear better. Sighing, Marley took her drink back and sipped it. “Yeah, yeah, mutual destruction and all that. I’ll keep it in mind, Morticia,” she agreed, giving a little smile. “But don’t worry, I’m not interested in feeding off of you, I’ve got plenty of others lined up for that. But if you ever wanna have a healthy dose of fear, hit me up.”

Erin shook her head. “That wasn’t fun. Rock climbing? Kayaking? That’s fun,” she said, vaguely gesturing towards Marley’s sunglasses with the hand holding her whiskey. “You keep that shit away from me.” Police sirens flashed behind her eyes again and she finished off the rest of her drink. Her cheeks already were already flushed, from both the nightmare Marley had just unleashed on her and the large amount of alcohol she’d consumed in a very short time. Neither of those things, as much as she hated the first, were stopping her from thinking about how attractive a dangerous woman like she was. God, she needed another drink. She turned, pouring another, thankful the shaking in her hands were calming. “Yeah, I won’t be forgetting that anytime soon.” She cleared her throat, keeping her back towards Marley, quiet for a long moment before she turned slightly. “Is that everything, then?”

Marley frowned. No one understood. No one ever would. Just like everyone else in her life, it seemed like Erin didn’t want anything to do with Marley’s abilities, either. The only person she’d met so far that had was Evelyn, and there was still the tentativeness there, on whether Evelyn would ever end up rejecting her, too. Marley looked away, taking another hearty sip. “Fine,” she finally muttered, then brushed it all off. No sense in pouting about it. It wouldn’t change anything. “But rock climbing? That how you get your-- pun intended-- rocks off?” Shaking her head, she finished off her drink, “Yeah, we’re done here.” She reached back into her jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “If you ever wanna have some real fun, hit me up,” she said, setting it on top of the body bag on the table, before heading back over to the elevator.

#chatzy #chatzy: marley #girls just wanna be shady #wickedswriting

7 notes · View notes

eddiesasspbrak · 4 years

Text

When I’m With You Ch. 5

Eddie can’t stand the barista at his favorite coffee shop. Richie has fallen in love with the man he sees twice a week. Stan is dating someone but won’t let his friends meet them. Ben is in love with Beverly, but is so afraid of scaring her away he’s not moving forward. Chaotic friends navigating college together.

Ch. 1

Ch. 6

Read on AO3

6k+ words

Thursday came and Eddie wasn’t really sure he wanted to go anymore. He really liked Bev, didn’t want to disappoint her by not showing up. But he’d had enough of Richie already for the week. As he sat in class beside Ben, he wondered what he’d say if he told him he didn’t want to go anymore. He’d probably guilt him into going anyway. Tell him that he needed him to be there with him. He didn’t really know the others that well. It was Bev’s birthday and she would be upset and how could he hurt such a beautiful angel.

After thinking it through, it really was best not to say anything to Ben at all. As it was, he already seemed so nervous and kept fiddling with his pencil instead of taking notes. Eddie knew that Bev planned to let him know how she felt that evening and wondered if his brain would just implode at the news. He also really thought that she’d like the gift Ben had picked out for her. Just giving her anything was going to make her happy. Eddie’s brain decided at this moment to imagine what it would be like if he received a gift from Richie. Why Richie? Why would he be the first one in his mind when thinking about crushes? He didn’t have a crush on Richie. He also wasn’t thinking about the custom drink he’d made just for Eddie the other day and wondering if he’d do that again today.

Eddie pulled a sheet of paper from his notebook and scribbled a quick note on it before sliding it over to Ben.

“How’d it go last night?”

Ben finally stopped playing with his pencil long enough to scribble a response.

“It was fun. The cake looked awesome. I like him.”

“How? He’s so annoying.”

“He’s funny and nice. He said that he thinks I’ll be good for Bev. Maybe you’re just not giving him a chance.”

“I’ve known him longer than you have. You’ve hung out with him twice.”

“I think he’s just trying to make you like him. Trying to be friendly.”

Eddie stared down at those words for a long moment, his pen hovering over the page. He hadn’t really thought about it like that. Hadn’t thought that maybe he was trying to be friends with him. Eddie knew that he wasn’t the easiest guy to get along with either. He’d only bonded with Ben in middle school because he’d been injured, and Eddie patched him up. Then Stan got along with him because of his OCD and Eddie’s compulsions to stay clean and organized. Bev thought he was adorable for some reason, always patting him on the head and giving him hugs like he was a pet. Richie didn’t seem to be turned off by his sometimes abrasive attitude, never seemed bothered by it.

If Richie’s jokes and teasing were just his way of trying to be friends, then maybe he’d just been too hard on him. He set his pen down, not writing anything back to Ben, who had gone back to nervously twirling his pencil. When he arrived at the cafe, he would try to look at Richie as a friend. See if he could stand it. He was Bev’s best friend and Bev and Ben were definitely going to get together. They’d be seeing a lot more of each other, especially being neighbors. Why not give it a go? It didn’t mean he’d change the way he interacted with him. It weirdly seemed to work. He was going to try to be just a little bit friendlier. Even if it killed him.

Eddie entered the cafe to find a longer line than normal. Mike, Richie and Bill were all behind the counter. Bill assisted Mike with the drink making while Richie handled the register. Eddie could see from where he was that he didn’t have his usual smile. He wasn’t chatting with each customer like he usually did. Eddie wondered how long the line had been before he got there. He’d seen at least three people leaving the cafe as he approached and as he looked around, he could see that most of the seats were taken. Including all the big fluffy chairs he loved.

It was unusual for the shop to be so busy at this time of day on a Thursday. Normally it would be quiet, only a short line to wait through and plenty of empty seats. It was a bit colder today, the last of winter trying to cling on and make everyone miserable. Perhaps it was just everyone trying to chase the warmth that came with a hot drink in a heated café. Eddie waited patiently while they worked through the line quickly. Bill and Mike seemed to have a rhythm and they worked flawlessly in sync around each other without missing a beat.

Eddie was so entranced watching them he almost didn’t notice when it was coming up on his turn. The woman in front of him finished paying for her order and moved to wait in the new line at the end of the counter. Eddie stepped forward and he watched as Richie smiled for the first time since he’d arrived when their eyes met. He reminded himself again that he was going to try to be nice to him. Try to be his friend. Or at least a friendly acquaintance. Immediately, Eddie’s nerves kicked in when he opened his mouth to speak and he found his words stuck in his throat. Luckily, Richie never seemed to have that problem.

“Eddie! Good morning, my dear. Four days in a row, you must be getting tired of me by now.” He grinned, already putting an order in for him before he could speak.

Taking a deep breath that he hoped wasn’t too noticeable, Eddie finally found his voice. “Good morning, Richie. How are you this morning?”

Richie’s smile faltered as shock passed over his features. “I’m...ok. Busy this morning.”

“I can see that. Am I allowed to order for myself, or will you be making a drink for me again today?”

“Uh…” Richie looked back at Bill and Mike. “If you can wait maybe fifteen minutes for this to calm down, I’ll make you something.”

“Ok.” Eddie stepped out of line and found a chair at a table meant for two near the counter. He pulled out his phone and absently scrolled through social media while occasionally watching the trio whittle down the line bit by bit. When it finally slowed, only the occasional customer walking through the door, Bill took over the register and Richie moved over to join Mike. Eddie lost himself in his phone and didn’t even realize that Richie was making a drink for him until he heard his name being called.

He looked up to see Richie smiling at him from the counter, casually leaning against it with a drink sat in front of him. Eddie abandoned his table and crossed over to take the drink. The name on it read “Emilio”. He gave it a sniff and found it to be different from the one he’d had on Tuesday.

“Is it sugar free?” He asked.

“Yep. I even made it with soymilk this time since you were so nice this morning.”

Eddie couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He was trying to be nicer to him, but he couldn’t ignore how stupid he was sometimes. Especially because he knew that the drink on Tuesday had also been made with soymilk. He could tell from the taste of it but didn’t say anything to Richie about it. He took an experimental sip, and of course he liked it because Richie was weirdly good at his job. This one was a little sweeter than the last but not by too much. While the first drink had tasted a bit chocolaty, this one tasted more of caramel and Eddie thought he might like that a little bit more.

“It’s good.” He admitted, unable to look the other man in his eyes.

“Really?” Anyone looking would swear they saw Richie’s eyes actually twinkle.

“Don’t act so surprised. As far as I can tell, this is your one talent.” Eddie winced as he said this, but then Richie smiled, and he really didn’t understand him.

“Hey, Rich, we’re running low on baked goods. Think you can spend some time in the kitchen?” Bill asked, nodding toward the display case.

This did make Richie frown and he looked at Eddie for a long moment before he left him at the end of the counter to go and have a hushed conversation with Bill. Things seemed to get heated, but they spoke low enough that no one else could hear. Things had seemed fine between everyone when he’d gotten there but now, they were clearly arguing with one another. Eddie watched, his eyebrows furrowed together. Mike came to stand where Richie had just been with a smile directed at Eddie.

“Don’t worry. It’s nothing serious. They’ve known each other forever and argue all the time. I’ve even seen them throw a few swings at each other before.”

“And that’s not serious?” Eddie asked him, eyes wide.

“Nah, not with them. It’s kind of their normal. Weird, right?” There was something in Mike’s eyes as he looked at Bill. Love maybe. Eddie wondered then if they were together.

Eddie nodded and looked over just in time to find Bill looking at him while he whispered something to Richie. He quickly looked away and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder if he did something wrong. Bill clearly had a tag above his name tag that said “manager” and he worried he’d done something to get Richie in trouble. On Tuesday, he’d covered Eddie’s drink and he realized that he hadn’t actually paid for this drink either. It was easy to forget when he was given the drink before paying for it. Immediately, he pulled his wallet from his pocket and pulled out a five, unsure of how much this drink would cost as he wasn’t even 100% sure what was in it. Other than the soymilk.

When he looked back up to the counter, this time both staring at him, Richie was back to smiling.

“You have some time before you have to rush off for class, right Eds?” Richie asked.

Eddie resisted the urge to scold him for using that nickname again and nodded his head warily. “Yea. I’ve got about an hour before I need to start walking back.”

“All of the seats are taken today. How about keeping me company in the kitchen while you drink your coffee?”

Eddie looked back and sure enough, even the table he’d just been occupying was taken. He looked back and his eyes fell on Bill, who was already taking another order. “Is that even allowed?”

“Bill says it’s cool.”

Eddie felt awkward and part of him wanted to say no, but at the same time, he had nowhere to be. Ben had said that baking with him was fun and Eddie was curious to see if he was actually any good. He assumed that there would be a huge mess whenever Richie was allowed to bake. He kind of wanted to see it with his own eyes. He also reminded himself again that he was trying to be nicer to him. Clearly this was what Richie and Bill were discussing, so it would kind of be a dick move to say no now, right?

Finally nodding his head, Eddie awkwardly walked around to the end of the counter and rounded the corner. He felt like he was doing something wrong. He wasn’t supposed to be back there and yet, he also felt slightly special. Other patrons could see him being invited back behind the counter and into the kitchen. It was stupid to feel special, to feel slightly superior to the regular customers who couldn’t pass that invisible barrier. Still, as he followed Richie back into the kitchen, his heart skipped a beat from excitement. Even though he was voluntarily going to be alone with Richie and that was something he really didn’t want.

The kitchen was bigger than he thought it would be. There was a big island counter off center but pretty much in the middle of the room. Against one wall there were two big cooling racks on wheels that were taller than Eddie. The other wall looked like a regular kitchen, a long counter with a sink set in the middle, cabinet space below and above. At the end was a large fridge with two doors that were each as wide as Eddie’s whole fridge. There were two ovens set into the wall, one on top of the other. Eddie now understood how they were able to have such a big display case full of different pastries.

In the corner was a small table with four chairs around it. Richie pulled one over to the island counter and patted the seat while looking at Eddie. He crossed the room and sat, watching as Richie went to gather ingredients for whatever it was he was about to start.

“So…” Eddie said, feeling awkward now that they were alone. “Is there a reason I’m back here?”

“Hate to say it, Eds, but we’re more of a Sweeney kind of café. We only use the sweetest looking people in our meat pies. It’s your own fault for being so cute.” Richie grinned, looking back at Eddie over his shoulder from the fridge.

Eddie tried to think of something witty to say back, but he was a little distracted by the word echoing around in his head. Had Richie really just called him ‘cute’? His cheeks turned a light shade of pink and he suddenly found the reflection of the lights in the counter very interesting. Richie didn’t seem to notice as he busied himself carrying an armful of ingredients over to the counter. Taking a long sip of coffee and finally composing himself, Eddie leaned against the counter and picked at the cardboard sleeve on his cup.

“Leave it to you to reference a freaking musical. Theater majors are all the same.” Eddie said.

Richie looked at him and chuckled, already beginning to measure out ingredients like it was second nature. “I’ll have you know, that is the first reference to a musical I’ve made in three weeks.”

“Well, your customers would be lucky to get a meat pie with a piece of me in it.” That was stupid. Why did he say that?

Without missing a beat, Richie let out a bark of laughter. “Are you calling yourself grade A meat?”

“No. I’m just saying that I’m very clean. You can’t say the same for every person that wanders through that front door.”

“So, you don’t think we clean the meat before we prepare our food?”

“That is disgusting, and I didn’t need a mental image of you bathing a naked dead body, thanks.”

“Gonna log it for later in the old spank bank?” Richie winked.

“No, fuck you. You’re so gross. Is this the way you speak to all of your customers?” Eddie felt the pull of his lips into a smile and he looked down to hide it. He didn’t want Richie to know that he’d actually succeeded at making him smile.

“Oh, Eds, you’re far more than just another customer now. We’re practically married.”

Eddie almost choked on the mouthful of coffee he’d chosen to take into his mouth at just the wrong moment. He coughed and wiped the bit of coffee that dribbled from his lips with his sleeve.

“What?”

“Ask Bev. She’s the one who said we bicker like an old married couple. Cute, right?”

“No. Not cute because it’s not true.”

“It’s kind of true.”

“In what way?” Eddie could feel his face and neck getting hot, hated how he could so easily become flustered.

“Relax, Eds. It’s a joke.” Richie was smiling but he could tell that it was forced.

He was supposed to be nicer to him. He really was trying. So, why did he feel like he’d done something wrong? The room fell silent between them, the only sound from the spatula scraping the sides of the bowl as Richie stirred. It felt awkward, the air too thick and too hot all of a sudden. Eddie cleared his throat and stood, grabbing his coffee.

“I should go. I don’t want to be late.” He said, his voice coming out quieter than he intended.

“Really? Already?” Richie wasn’t even trying to hide the disappointment on his face anymore.

“Yea…but, um…I’ll see you tonight, right? At Bev’s party.”

A small smile came back to Richie’s lips as he nodded. “Yea.”

With that, Eddie exited the kitchen and said a quick goodbye to Mike and Bill before leaving the store. He walked slow, not actually needing to be there for another twenty minutes. He thought of that look on Richie’s face. The same disappointed look he gave him last Friday. Like he didn’t want to be separated from him. It made Eddie’s stomach clench in a weird way that made him frown. He didn’t like Richie making that face and decided he wanted to make sure he never saw it again.

The whole walk back to campus, Eddie forced himself to focus on his schedule for the next few hours. He had class until around 2:30, then he’d go home, probably shower and get ready for the party. It didn’t start until 8 so he had plenty of time to laze around and eat something before he left. Ben was meeting him at his apartment so they could ride together. The first stop was the same bar they’d gone to the week before to get a few drinks in. Then they would all head to the laser tag place together. He wondered if he could squeeze in a nap beforehand since he’d had to be up so early and would likely be out late.

Bev didn’t show up for class, and when Eddie texted to see where she was, she said classes don’t exist when it’s your birthday. He rolled his eyes but smiled. He really did like her

Eddie: You could have at least told me you were skipping. Now I have to suffer for the next three hours without you.

Bev: Tough titties, baby doll. I’m being treated to brunch and mimosas by my aunt right now so I’m on cloud nine

Eddie: It’s barely noon and you’re already drunk, aren’t you?

Bev: Birthday. There are no rules.

Eddie: I don’t think it works that way but ok.

Bev: Ummmmm btw you didn’t tell me you went shopping with Richie. WTF dude??

Eddie: What about it?

For some reason, Eddie hadn’t expected her to find out about that. Partially because the whole shopping trip was for Ben’s sake. He didn’t know how much Richie had told her, so he had to tread lightly to avoid embarrassing his friend in any way.

Bev: I thought you hated him??

Eddie: I mean…hates a strong word…and we were shopping for your gifts, so it was nothing special

Bev: I’m pretty sure you said hate before

Eddie: Ok, well, maybe I didn’t mean it. He’s just annoying is all

Bev: This talk is not working when I can’t see your face

Eddie: Too bad you skipped class without me then

Bev: We are talking tonight. This is not over.

Eddie: There’s not even anything to talk about but fine.

Beverly sent back a picture of her with a mimosa in her hand, taking a sip while flipping him off simultaneously with the same hand. He hoped that she would forget that she wanted to talk to him about Richie when she sobered up from the champagne. Talking about Richie and their shopping outing and whether or not he hated him was not something Eddie wanted to do. Especially with him and their other friends around.

By the time night fell, Eddie had a nice nap, a filling dinner and a warm shower. If he didn’t have to go out and socialize, he would have put on some warm pajamas and lounged in front of the TV. That would have been the perfect way to end the night. Instead, he was slipping his shoes on, waiting for a text from Ben that he was downstairs with their uber. He’d stopped by the ATM on his way home from class and pulled out some cash so his mom wouldn’t know he was going to the bar. Of course, she monitored all of the money he spent and pulled out, so she’d given him a call to ask why he needed cash. He lied and told her they were all going in on a joint gift and he had to give his portion of the cost to a friend. She’d bought it and now he had cash to drink to his heart’s content.

His phone buzzed on the table next to him and he grabbed it while standing, checking for his wallet, keys and grabbing Bev’s gift. He checked the message, just to make sure it was Ben saying he was there.

Ben: Don’t be mad at me

Eddie: Why would I be mad?

Before he got a response, there was a knock at his door. He figured Ben hadn’t gotten an uber and that was him at the door, ready to apologize even though it wasn’t necessary. They’d just order one now, be a little late for the start of the festivities. What he hadn’t expected, was to see Richie on the other side of the door, cake box in hand.

“Good evening, my dear Eds. Ben says our ride is here.” He said with a grin.

Oh. That was what he meant. It made sense that Richie would ride with them since he lived in the same building, but that didn’t mean Eddie was happy about it. He was still on his mission to be nice and he didn’t want to see that disappointed face that did things to his gut that he just didn’t like. Putting on a tight-lipped smile, Eddie nodded and exited his apartment, stopping to lock the door.

The elevator ride down to the first floor was quiet, but, Eddie noticed, not uncomfortably so. Usually their silences were awkward. This time it was almost nice. Maybe it was the excitement of going to see friends and get a few drinks in them. Maybe they were just used to seeing each other outside the café now. Eddie tried not to think of that morning in the kitchen of the café. Just because Richie wasn’t talking, an amazing feat on his part, didn’t mean he was still upset about their conversation. Though, Eddie still didn’t know why he seemed upset in the first place.

The look on Ben’s face as they approached the car waiting at the curb was apologetic and worried. Eddie rolled his eyes and shrugged at him, signaling without words that it was fine. He wasn’t really bothered by it. They’d be spending the entire night together anyway. Ben immediately started nervously chatting as they drove. He had the necklace in a little box, tucked away in his pocket. His nervous energy was practically radiating off of him, in turn making Eddie feel anxious. His leg bounced as he watched out the window for the bar to come into view.

Luckily, Richie didn’t pull out a fake ID this time and they entered the bar to see Bev already claimed the big table in the back and it was already surrounded. Eddie immediately recognized Bill and Mike from the café and there were a few people that looked familiar, but he didn’t really know. Bev waved as they entered and ran to meet them.

“You’re here!” She said, hugging each one individually.

“Happy birthday.” All three said in almost unison.

“Is that my cake?” She asked, eyeing the box in Richie’s hands.

“It is.”

“Did you bake the triple chocolate cake I asked for?”

“No. Ben did.”

Beverly turned to look at Ben with a big smile. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

“I can’t really. Richie helped me.”

“Well, thank you both. I am so ready to dig into that chocolate goodness. Too bad we have to share.” Bev looked back to the table with a sigh before turning back to the boys. “Ok, before you join the table, not everyone is invited to laser tag so don’t say anything about it ok? I only want my favorite people there.”

“Then why did you invite so many people to the bar?” Eddie asked.

“Presents. Duh.”

“Ah.” Eddie said, raising his own gift bag up for her to see. “I guess you want this then?”

“Aww, Eddie. Yes. Yes, I do.”

He handed it over with a smile and she linked her arm with his and dragged him toward the table. She pulled him into the empty seat next to her and he shot an apologetic look to Ben as he sat on the other side of him. Bill and Mike greeted Eddie and Richie and were introduced to Ben. Everyone else at the table gave a quick introduction, but Eddie couldn’t be bothered to remember any of their names. He was too focused on Beverly pulling all the tissue paper out of the bag and letting it drop to the floor. She pulled out the sweater and held it up to get a look at it.

“Eddie! It’s so cute! I love it, thank you.” She leaned over and gave him a one-armed hug, kissing him on the cheek as she did.

“Ben helped me pick it out.” It wasn’t a lie. Ben had been the one to pick it out and it gave him some brownie points with the girl he liked.

“Thank you too Ben.” She smiled, carefully folding the sweater back up and placing it back in the bag.

Eddie nudge Ben with his elbow and tilted his head toward Bev, trying to indicate that he should give his gift. Ben shook his head no, his face flushed. Rolling his eyes, Eddie turned back to the table. He knew the man next to him well enough to know what was probably going through his head. There were too many people, too many strangers and the gift was too intimate. It was meant to convey his feelings for her, and he had to give it to her at just the right moment. Ever the romantic, he was going to stress about it all night.

“Ok. I need a drink.” Eddie said, looking to Ben again.

He nodded and pushed his chair back to stand just as bottles were placed in front of both of them. Eddie looked up to see that Richie was the source of the alcohol. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d left them as he’d been distracted by Beverly opening her gift.

“Thanks.” He said, still surprised.

“Anything for you, Eds.” Richie said, sitting back in his chair. He noticed the way Ben kept glancing at Bev over Eddie and patted him on the shoulder. “Not that I don’t love sitting with you, Benny boy, but do you mind switching seats with Eds so I can talk to him?” He asked.

“Oh…I…” Ben looked to Eddie, who shrugged and stood from his seat.

He didn’t necessarily want to sit beside Richie, but if it put Ben next to Bev, it was ok. They squeezed together against the wall behind the seats as they switched spots. Ben’s face was visibly red, even in the low light, as Bev smiled up at him as soon as he sat. Eddie took a long swig from his beer when he sat, feeling Richie’s arm stretching across the back of his chair. He realized that this was the second time they’d been this close, the first time in the car ride to and from shopping. They’d sat next to each other the last time they were there, but that had been a table for four with space between their chairs. This table was longer and meant for parties, but there were so many people crowded around it, their chairs were touching. So, Richie’s arm on the back of his chair meant he was practically hugging him, and it made him anxious.

“So.” Bev said loudly over the music, giving Eddie something else to focus on. “Is your boy showing up tonight?” She asked, looking at Bill.

“He’s on his way. Should b-be here soon.” Bill said, smiling.

“Good. He’s so cute. You did well.” Bev tilted the top of her beer bottle toward Bill and then tilted it toward Mike as well, which Eddie thought was weird.

He’d gotten the impression at the café that morning that Mike had feelings for Bill. Maybe he was wrong. Eddie leaned back a bit and spoke quietly so only Richie could hear him. “Does Bill have a boyfriend.”

“I guess you could say that.” Richie answered.

“What does that mean?”

“Bill and Mike are together but there’s a third guy they also date.”

“So, they’re polyamorous?” Eddie asked, finally understanding.

“Yep.”

“What the fuck I’m so jealous. I can’t even get one boyfriend.”

Eddie heard Richie laugh beside him and realized he’d said that out loud, which was not his intention. He focused on the feel of Ben’s leg beside him, bouncing from the nerves he was feeling. Eddie didn’t really condone the use of liquid courage, but in this instance, he thought it might be useful for Ben to get a nice buzz going. He’d never work up the nerve to give Beverly her gift otherwise. Eddie knew that the necklace was going to be the tipping point for their relationship to begin.

“Oh, he’s here.” Bill said, looking down at his phone and then turning toward the door.

Eddie looked up, curious to see who Bill and Mike had brought into their relationship. He could feel Ben tense up beside him at the same time he did. They exchanged a look as they watched Stan walk in. Bill stood and met him halfway, greeting him with a kiss and confirming that he was the one they’d just been talking about. Eddie could feel his mouth hanging open slightly, but his brain wasn’t processing fast enough to think to close it. Obviously, they’d known he was seeing someone and now they realized why he had been so secretive.

As they approached the table, fingers laced together, Stan finally did a sweep of the table, his smile falling away when his eyes met those of his friends. He pulled his hand from Bill’s, who turned to look at him in confusion.

“Stanley.” Eddie said, in way of greeting.

“What are you guys doing here?” He asked, looking between the two.

“We’re friends with Bev.”

“And Richie.” Ben tacked on.

“You guys know each other?” Mike asked.

Eddie nodded, tipping his bottle back against his lips to stop from blurting out anything that was running through his head.

“Come on, s-sit.” Bill said.

Stan’s tongue darted out to wet his lips as Bill gently directed him to the seat between him and Mike. He looked tense and Eddie could imagine what he was thinking. He’d been worried about telling them who he was dating because he was in a polyamorous relationship and didn’t know how they would react. Didn’t know if they would understand. Part of Eddie thought that was stupid because they loved him, and they didn’t care who he dated as long as they treated him well. But he also understood why he’d kept it secret, so he wasn’t going to give him a hard time. Not right now at least.

“So, you’re the ones dating my best friend.” Eddie said, looking from Mike to Bill. “And you didn’t even tell me.” His eyes landed on Stan, who was still looking on edge and unsure.

“To be fair, we didn’t know you were his best friend. We just thought you were Richie’s favorite customer.” Mike said.

“We’ve been friends since high school. Small world I guess.” Eddie shrugged.

“Wait, what’s the situation?” Ben asked, having not heard his conversation with Richie from a few minutes before.

“Our dear Stanley has found himself two boyfriends.” Eddie explained.

“Oh. That’s nice.” Was all Ben said and they knew he genuinely meant that he thought it was a nice thing for him.

“So, my question is, how did you get two people to put up with your bullshit?” Eddie asked, directing a smile at his friend.

Stan finally seemed to begin to relax as a smile spread across his face and he flipped Eddie off. “You’re so jealous it’s almost cute.”

“Go fuck yourself bird boy.” Eddie was smiling despite his words.

With everything easily settled, without anyone but the three friends knowing there was anything happening, the night continued as planned. They would have to have a conversation later about how he should have known they’d still love him no matter what, but that could wait for another day. It was definitely not something they needed to talk about while drunk at a birthday party. As drinks continued to flow, Bev having a few shots bought for her by strangers for her birthday, everyone became more comfortable around each other. Stan kept looking at Eddie and Ben nervously, like he expected them to change their minds any second. Ben was a bit distracted by Bev hanging off of him, but Eddie tried to talk to Mike or Bill whenever he noticed the looks to try and ease his mind.

After an hour or so at the bar, Beverly called for the party to come to an end, which really meant only a select few were going to the next location. They piled into two Ubers, Stan and his boys in one and Edie, Bev, Ben and Richie in another. Eddie took the front seat, not wanting to be squished in the back again. Plus, Ben could sit beside Bev still if they were both in the back. She was fairly drunk at this point and kept calling Ben cute, squishing his face between her hands. He still hadn’t given her the gift.

By the time they arrived at the laser tag place, everyone was a bit rowdy and full of energy, ready to shoot their friends with lasers. They paid, got their vests and guns and got situated. Mike helped Eddie put his vest on when he got slightly confused by the straps and teased him slightly for nearly getting tangled in it even though it was so simple. He pretended he didn’t noticed Richie watching them as they talked and touched while Mike helped him and gave him a rundown of how to play. They filed into the room finding it was only their group in there. Mike and Bill had planned ahead and rented out the place for their party.

They split up and Eddie couldn’t help but think the teams weren’t fair. There was an uneven amount of people, seven to be exact, and he was stuck with Stan and Mike, who had abandoned him the second the game started. He’d never done this. Never been allowed to. It was too much running and wasn’t good for his anxiety is what his mother had always said. He got the gist of the game thanks to Mike. Run around, stay hidden, shoot the other team, don’t get shot. Except the other team was Bev, Bill, Ben and Richie and three of them were amazing at this game. Ben was too distracted by Beverly to even judge, but he was weirdly good at hiding.

Stan wasn’t half bad, but Mike seemed to be in the same boat as Eddie and kept shooting at shadows. This was overwhelming and with the darkness and the blacklight effect, he was getting a little sick to his stomach. Maybe his mom was right, and this game just wasn’t for him. Though he did feel a little thrill when Ben ran by and he managed to get a hit on him from his hiding spot. Ben looked around confused as Eddie ducked back down so he wouldn’t see him.

After a while of jumping at every sound, every flash of light and every little movement he caught out of the corner of his eye, Eddie needed a break. Finding a corner that was well hidden, he took a moment to catch his breath and listen to the chaos around him. He could hear them yelling and laughing combined with the laser sound effects every few seconds. He decided in that moment that he would never survive in a war. He pressed his back to the wall, tilting his head back against it. The music made it hard to tell if someone was near you, so Eddie nearly jumped from his skin when Richie rounded the corner and almost ran into him.

“Well, what do we have here?” Richie asked with a smirk.

“How do you always find me?” Eddie sighed.

Richie pointed his gun at Eddie’s chest piece, his finger on the trigger. “Any last words, my dear?”

“Yea, go fuck yourself.”

Richie laughed, his teeth glowing in the blacklight. “Damn, that’s cute.”

Eddie’s cheeks warmed at the words, realizing that was the second time that day he’d called him that. He was pretty sure Richie was drunk, he was fairly drunk himself. He wasn’t sure he knew what he was saying, and Eddie wasn’t sure if it with the influence of the alcohol that had his heart thumping in his chest or if it was Richie. He wanted to say it was the alcohol, but he honestly couldn’t be sure anymore. Composing himself, Richie straightened his gun, so it was aimed at Eddie’s chest again.

“Too bad I’m going to have to shoot you now.” Richie said.

Eddie lifted his gun and pointed it at Richie’s chest piece. “If you shoot, I shoot too.”

“It’s sad isn’t it?” Richie asked, with a grin. “Here we are, star-crossed lovers, at war with one another.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Our sides are at war, and we must fight one another. Damn this battle that keeps us apart.”

“Oh…my God.”

“We’re like Romeo and Juliet, you know.”

“Like you’ve ever read Shakespeare.”

“I haven’t. But I have seen Leo and Claire perform it many times.”

“Of course, you have.”

Richie lowered his gun and took a step closer to Eddie, placing his hand on his cheek. “Poison? Drunk all and left no friendly drop to help me after?”

“So, you’re Juliet in this, then?” Eddie asked, not even realizing that he had no reaction to the other man touching his face.

Richie leaned in even closer, close enough to feel his breath on his face, his voice dropping lower. “I will kiss thy lips. Happily, some poison yet doth hang on them.”

Eddie didn’t really process what he said. Didn’t expect him to do it. But then Richie was closing those last few inches and his lips were on Eddie’s. It wasn’t a soft kiss either, it was firm and wanting and for a second Eddie couldn’t remember how to breathe. Couldn’t remember his own name even. Was there a time in his life when he wasn’t standing in this dark room, kissing Richie Tozier? After a few heartbeats, Richie finally pulled away, but not far.

“Thus…with a kiss, you die.” He whispered before raising his gun again and pressing it against Eddie’s chest piece, pulling the trigger.

The sound of a fake laser sounded from his gun and then the lights erupted from the plastic on his chest. Eddie was so shocked he didn’t even comment on how he’d said the line wrong. Richie pulled away then and, walking backwards with a grin on his face, flipped Eddie off with both hands before disappearing around another corner.

Eddie stood there motionless, dumbstruck. Richie just kissed him. Richie just recited lines from Romeo and Juliet and then kissed him. Richie just kissed him and then shot him and flipped him off. What the actual fuck was happening?

#Reddie #It #it (2017)#it (2019)#benverly #Stenbrough #hanbrough #stanlon #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #stanley uris #ben hanscom #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #Ro writes

17 notes · View notes

writing-with-chaos · 4 years

Text

[Your OCs Backstory] Week 4 - Mentors

(edit by me!!!!)

@yourocsbackstory

Sorry I keep posting these late! Deadlines are not my forte ^^; I hope you still like this one cause I definitely do!

Ariana Salem

---------

Ariana was never sure how to feel about Kendra and Andrea. At first, it was easy to hate them. Especially Kendra. She was the only one she was attached to, after all. Ariana was always very talented at deflecting her anger at the world, and the alien was an easy target. Every punch landed on her in training, every bruise, every smirk like she found every minute of her failure amusing. Even if she had to feel it, it healed right away anyway. It was all a big joke, with Ariana's fragility as the punchline. It only fueled her fury. Of all the humans in the world, why did she have to be Kendra's host? Why did everything always have to be her fault? Her life was hard enough as it is, and now her being born brought back the apocalypse? What the fuck was she supposed to do with that? Why did it always have to be her?

Kendra became some kind of a symbol in her head. Learning to control her powers, and finally landing just one hit on her, would be like taking back her fate. She wasn't the disaster everyone believed her to be. She wasn't Death and Destruction. Once she finally had this under control, it'd be proof to everyone that she was worth something. She wasn't an extra burden. But the longer she stayed attached to Kendra, the more the lines blurred. She certainly didn't get any nicer, and Ariana was only making slow process with her powers. But she found herself having small moments with the alien. Calm, quiet moments, where she painted in her room and Kendra read books on the bed, the only non-destructive hobby that seemed to hold her attention. During school, when they recounted the death toll and terror the two were solely responsible for, instead of listening and reinforcing her distrust, she would snort at Kendra's telepathic commenting. She'd point at inaccuracies, scoff, groan at the boring lectures, and every time the teacher called them "Khaodosians", her energy would coil underneath Ariana's skin, like a rolling wave of thorns. Why does that bother you so much? It's just the name of your species, right? she asked internally. "As far as your masses need to be concerned, I suppose." Kendra growled. Should I call you something different? There was a beat of silence. "Chaos Powers." Ariana didn't understand why she bothered. Why did she care if it was offensive? This woman--creature--wanted her and every other human dead, and almost succeeded. She refused to use her name 90% of the time, instead only calling her "human girl". Just because she understood what it felt like to have history written wrong, and wrong names and translations thrown around like they were fact, didn't mean she owed her the same decency she gave other people. And yet, she never used the other name again. Having Andrea around made things even more confusing. Apparently, she was the friendlier of the two. It made sense. According to history, she was the one who struck deals with people. Took identities and created illusions. She'd seen the latter two with her own eyes. Her friendliness was another illusion, she'd tell herself. All part of some plan of theirs she wasn't savvy to yet. But Andrea would be encouraging and fun, she'd help her find the right makeup and kept her favorite snacks in her house for when training was over. Most importantly, she'd tell Kendra to cool it when she was being extra rough or mean, like she was on her side instead. Ariana didn't have many people left in her life that would stand up for her, especially someone casual. Despite herself, she started feeling comfortable until she'd catch herself casually asking for help; with homework, outfit choices, boys, her family. Everything became easier when she was around. Eventually, the jolt of excitement she felt from Kendra whenever the other called became her own, to the point where she couldn't always tell whose emotions were whose. The more she thought about it, the more she couldn't figure out where she stood. People who knew about her powers--her mom, her siblings, Sabin--would say off-color things about them and she'd get upset. They'd start asking questions. What did she care? She didn't know how to answer. Her mom would be the worst, immediately jumping to the most disastrous conclusion. She was being corrupted, her daughter was being lost to monsters. It would stoke her anxieties so much she'd have to rush to her room, gasping for air and chanting, "I'm a good person, I'm a good person, I'm a good person...". What was wrong with her? Some monsters give her a little validation and suddenly she's ready to sell out her entire species? Is that who she was? Her frustrations only fueled her training spirit. She pushed herself farther and farther every day. If she could do this one thing right, maybe everyone would shut up. Including her anxiety. She wasn't destined for ruin. Her worth was more than that and she would prove it. "You know you'll never get control of my powers that way." Kendra's harsh, low voice snapped Ariana from her thoughts. She was watching her from behind, sitting against a tree in their training grove in the middle of nowhere. The shade darkened her golden brown skin, making her blood-red eyes glow against the shadows. The image sent an intimidated shiver up Ariana's spine, which only made her frustrations at her own weakness worse. "What way?" she snapped. "In your head, you keep insisting this will prove something." Much to Ariana's chagrin, she could hear her footsteps approaching. "What does one have to prove when they control death and destruction?" "I don't want to control that." "Why not?" "Because! It's awful!" Ariana exclaimed. "I don't wanna hurt people." "Yes, that's the whole reason we're training. So you don't end up killing someone during one of your tantrums." "I don't--!" Purple sparks darted from her clenched hands at the flare of anger, proving the point. Ariana exhaled and turned back toward the horizon. "Whatever. Are you gonna help me or keep being annoying?" "The reason why my powers aren't working for you is because you keep equating them with someone else's approval," she explained. "You're so wrapped up in how other people will think of you that your only goal is to get permission to be what you already are. You want someone else to gift you power despite the fact that you already have what you seek." "I don't want power. I'm not like you." "Well, that's obvious, but it isn't the point," Kendra sneered. "It isn't that you don't want power. It's that you don't trust what you'll do with it. That's why they keep ricocheting on you." She walked back to her spot under the tree, shrugging. Ariana watched for a minute, before turning to her shadow engulfed hand. Was it a bad sign if a murderer was starting to make sense? "My powers aren't going to win you popularity. Nobody likes death," Kendra said. She sat down, and once again her red eyes demanded her to show respect. For her or herself, she wasn’t sure anymore.

"Figure out how to trust yourself, or you're only wasting our time."

#writeblr #writeblr community #writers of tumblr #writblr #writers #my ocs #writeblr ocs #yourocsbackstory #The Writing #Cynical Chaos #Ariana #Kendra #Andrea

7 notes · View notes

arcticdementor · 4 years

Quote

Some time ago I was in hospital. I could not walk, and was not sure whether I would be able to walk again. (I am fine now) My wife was dying, and I could not look after her. And a doctor showed up by my bedside and started asking me a bunch of psychiatric questions. I quickly realized he was fishing for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. In fact he was not just fishing. It turned into a high pressure interrogation in which he demanded that I confess to the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I simply did not have any of the symptoms in the slightest degree, and said so, and he would double down, pressuring me to say that I did, and getting quite snippy when I kept on truthfully denying that I had any of the symptoms. It turned into something like a police interrogation. Immediately following him, a second doctor showed up, a woman, much friendlier and nicer, and she was fishing for depression. She was much nicer about it than the PTSD guy, but it was all a bunch of leading questions, manipulative questions, that if answered in a truthful, helpful, and cooperative fashion by any normal reasonable person would have given them grounds to drug that person to the eyeballs and give them electroshock therapy. Bad cop, good cop. It was the depression checklist, but manipulatively framed and spun, not neutrally framed, framed so that no normal truthful helpful cooperative person could fail to give all the depression checklist answers, framed so that if one gave the checklist answer, one was being nice and helpful, and if one declined to give the checklist answer, one was being unhelpful and uncooperative.. After a few of the questions, which at first I answered truthfully and cooperatively until I realized where this was heading, that the questions were loaded, I said “I am sick and my wife is dying. I am rationally, appropriately, and proportionally depressed, I will get over it.” and shut down further questioning. It was getting to the point where I felt like saying “I want my lawyer present during this testimony”. It was obvious to me that the shrinks were just going up to random vulnerable people and trying to force fit them into random psychiatric categories, and that with sufficient determination, anyone can be force fitted into something or other. Maybe I had pissed someone in the system off and they were fishing for grounds to put me under restraint. Maybe the crazy bin was short of customers and was looking for customers with good private insurance. When I used the word “depressed”, she acted like she had been caught. They are manufacturing madness by fitting people into categories that do not in fact fit. And that is the sum total of my personal experience with being on the receiving end from the psychiatric profession, from which I conclude that they are a bunch of crooks who belong in jail. When you tell me they observe correlations, I tell you that they manufacture pre defined categories.

James A Donald

#james a donald #quote

7 notes · View notes

cottontail20 · 5 years

Text

A Legend All Their Own, Chapter 41: Almost A King

Summary: As the time to announce his engagement to Princess Wanda approaches, Vision has some concerns about what kind of King he will be. Wanda comforts him.

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16736589/chapters/44606374

A few days passed before Vision began to notice that the people of Sokovia's behavior towards him was slowly changing. It was subtle at first. There were still whispers when he passed by, but the whispers seemed much friendlier now.. some of them almost reverent.

They would smile when they saw him now. Real smiles, not the forced ones he sometimes used to get when delivering food to people. His possible future subjects would happily greet him, rather than trying to avoid him, or running away as soon as possible.

That morning, one young man had even bowed. Vision had looked around, expecting to find Wanda nearby, then remembered that she was off at another armor fitting, noticed that none of the Asgardian royals were around either, and finally realized, with no small amount of shock, that the young man was bowing to him, and that a few other Sokovians, after seeing the young man bow, were beginning to bow as well.

Vision's face burned bright red. He now completely understood why Wanda was so uncomfortable having people bow or kneel to her. However, unlike Wanda, Vision was raised the exact opposite of royal, and so had not spent his whole life being taught to adjust and react with grace and poise to this sort of thing. Vision opened his mouth to say something, but all that came out was a strangled squeak. His face reddened further, and unable to think of any better ideas, he simply ran away. --

Vision wasn't exactly sure where he was running to. But, as often seemed to happen nowadays, his feet instinctively carried him towards Wanda, almost crashing right into her as she exited the armorer's workshop.

"Whoa, easy there Vizh! I was just about to come find you.." Wanda grabbed his arms to steady herself, and him, frowning when she saw the slightly panicked look on his face. One hand reached up to gently stroke his cheek. "Hey.. Are you okay? Is something wrong?"

"No.." Vision let out a breath, feeling himself almost instantly relax at her touch. "No, nothing is wrong."

"Are you sure? You look so worried.."

"I just.. have you said anything to the common folk? About our engagement? They.. they've been treating me differently.."

"Oh.." Wanda blushed. "Well, I might have asked the Avengers to spread a bit of nicer information about you, to help the people be more accepting when we make our announcement.. Shouldn't I have?"

"That was probably a good idea, actually. I just.. I feel.." Vision looked around, as if worried someone would hear him. If he was supposed to be a leader, he shouldn't be showing these sort of weaknesses. What sort of King would he be if he did?

"Come on.." Wanda tugged at his hand, leading him away through the Palace's maze of halls and corridors. "Let's go to our room, we can talk properly."

Despite his worries, Vision's heart was warmed. Wanda knew him so well.

They headed back to their room- it really felt like 'theirs' now, somehow- and sat on the edge of the bed together. Linking their fingers, Wanda patiently waited for Vision to tell her exactly what was wrong.

He opened his mouth to speak, closed it, then opened it again, but the words wouldn't come. Vision knew Wanda would understand, yet for some reason, he still felt nervous. He heard Wanda sigh softly beside him, and when he turned to look at her, she kissed him, with so much love, her hands cupping his cheeks. Vision happily returned her kiss. It would be so easy to get completely lost in her, and he did so rather regularly, but knew he probably shouldn't right now. Wanda knew it too, gently breaking the kiss.

"You know you can tell me anything, right Vizh?" She whispered, gazing at him with her wide green eyes. "Anything at all. No judgement here."

"I know.." Vision sighed. "I just.. I'm not sure I'll be a very good King. I don't know how to be. I don't know how to rule people.. I wasn't born to be a King. Sometimes it feels like I wasn't born to be anything much at all. What if I'm really bad at being a King?"

"You won't be bad at it."

"But.."

"You won't. I know you" She shifted closer to him. "And you know, I wasn't born to be a Queen either. I was meant to stand around and look pretty, and smile and curtsy, until I eventually got shipped off to marry some Prince or Lord.. That's what my life was supposed to be before Pietro died, before I met you.."

"That doesn't seem fair.." Vision couldn't help but frown.

"It doesn't. But my point is, Vision, I don't know how to rule people anymore than you do. I wasn't taught any of that, because I was never meant to be Queen. Neither one of us was born to the Throne. But I think.. I think that might be what makes us good for it."

"You do?"

"I do" Wanda nodded. "We've both suffered.. In different ways, but we've both suffered. And we don't want that kind of suffering for anyone else.."

"Definitely not.."

"We don't really care too much for power, you and me.."

"We don't" Vision agreed.

"But we do want to make the world better" Wanda continued, "For everyone, for ourselves, and.." She trailed off for a moment, a faraway look in her eyes, fingers dancing over her stomach, then shook her head, coming back to herself. "For ourselves, and whoever comes after."

"That is all very true.." Vision still seemed a little nervous.

"You don't even really need to be a King. I said I wanted you to be my King, because.. that's just a title we give to someone ruling.." Wanda gazed into his eyes. "But I think.. I think what Sokovia really needs is a Vision."

"And a Scarlet Witch?" Vision chuckled.

"Maybe."

She kissed him again then, deeply, and this time, Vision let himself become lost, in more kisses, in gentle touches and soft skin, lost in warmth and pleasure and so much love, lost in her. Because when he came back from being lost, Wanda would smile at him like he was the most wonderful thing in the world, and he would smile right back. --

Vision might not be a King. Maybe he didn't have to be. When he was with Wanda, he was the very best Vision he could be.

Armour was made, hundreds of new weapons were forged. Soon, King Odin decided the time had come to reveal Ultron's declaration of War. Wanda and Vision, with tightly clasped hands, waited behind him, ready to make their own announcement afterwards.

"It is important we remember" Odin boomed, over the assembled crowd of both Asgardian and Sokovian people. "That we are not at war with Sokovia itself. The people of Sokovia have been, and remain, our staunch allies. Our fight is with the false King Ultron. The goal of Asgard in this war is to get the Princess Wanda her rightful place on the throne!"

A large cheer rose up from the crowd.

Vision turned to Wanda.

"They like you.."

"They'll like you too, Vizh."

"I hope so.."

"And now, the Princess has informed me that she has an announcement of her own.." Odin stepped aside.

Wanda squeezed Vision's hand, leading him with her to the edge of the balcony on which Odin had been speaking. He saw a few friendly faces in the crowd. The Avengers, Peter, Doctor Strange. Wanda cleared her throat.

"People of Sokovia, and Asgard.. The man standing beside me is Vision. The keeper of the Mind Stone, my Protector.. The man I love." A murmur from the crowd. "Some of you have treated him unfairly in the past.. That ends today. When the war is won, Vision and I plan to marry.. He will rule at my side."

Vision squeezed Wanda's hand, then took a breath and stepped forward, finally ready to speak for himself.

"I.. I was lowborn, like many of you" He began. "I wasn't born to be a King. I don't know if I'll be a good one. But I swear to you, I will do my very best. I want a better world, for us. All of us. And whoever comes after."

For a moment, there was silence. Then, a slow clap. A cheer that spread through the crowd, building to a roar.

Slowly, Vision felt himself smile. He turned to Wanda, beaming at him. Glowing, radiantly beautiful.

And with absolutely no more reason to hide, he kissed her.

Today, he almost felt like a King.

#scarletvision #scarlet vision #scarlet vision au #scarlet witch #wanda maximoff #vision mcu #wanda x vision #vision x wanda #Avengers #mcu #avengers au #mcu au

15 notes · View notes

americanowrites · 6 years

Text

All I Want

CHAPTER 6

“You pull on that dress one more time and I’ll throw my shoe at you,” Lauren yelled at me, I looked up to see her glaring at me in the mirror. She was stood playing around with her hair which she claimed looked terrible, all I could see were perfectly formed curls framing her perfectly contoured face, expert eye liner to match. She’d poured her body into a very tight fitting dress, one which created curves in places there weren’t any but still made her look slimmer than ever. I hated her slightly. “You look fine.”

Sometimes I look in the mirror and can’t see past the flaws staring back at me, the wideness of my jaw, my big lips, the dip in my nose. The double chin. I didn’t tend to look in full length mirrors, the flaws would be too long to list, but I knew my round tummy and thick thighs would be top of the list. There were big flashing red arrows pointing out everything wrong with me, constantly reminding me what was hideous about me, a daily reminder to hate myself.

“I don’t want to look fine.” I sighed, I knew what I looked like and I hated it. I felt like a whale and I looked like one, maybe even two.

“You look beautiful and that dress is gorgeous.” She continued to stare at me, whilst rolling lipstick over her already red lips. I looked away from her eyes and down at the dress. It was gorgeous, I’d give her that. It just didn’t mean it looked gorgeous on me. I kept hearing what those girls had said, seeing the looks they gave me whenever I looked in the mirror. I felt constantly sick whenever I thought about it and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. But I’d fallen in love with it instantly so bought it despite knowing it would look nicer if I lost a few pounds; the cream mesh fabric was see-through, giving a view of the material beneath. It actually complimented my pale skin instead of making me ghostly and self-conscious. The shimmery golden flowers dotted on the mesh give it more of a party feel, I just prayed I would fit in amongst all the designer dresses and shoes. I’d stuck with nude wedges, a choice I was sure to regret. I was tempted to just go in flats but both Lauren and Lucy would refuse to let me leave the house in flats. Lauren had already made a comment about being shocked I wasn’t in Vans.

“What time’s Tom getting here?”

“Ten minutes ago,” Lauren sighed, finally happy with her appearance she turned away from the mirror. “He text saying he’s on his way, but I’m not sure.”

“London traffic is a nightmare.”

“Sticking up for Tom, whatever next?”

“I’m pointing out fact.”

“Can I ask you a question?” she put down the lipstick she was playing around with, turning her full attention to me.

“Sure.” I tried to sound confident, but the look in her eye was making me feel quite nauseous.

“Just… what’s going on with you and Harry?” she glanced away, clearly not as confident in her questioning as she seemed.

“Nothing,” she cocked her head, not believing me. “Honestly, we’re friends. I think. I really don’t get why everyone is so weird about it. Can’t we be friends?” we were friends because I wasn’t stupid enough to think anything else would ever happen. I mean, he’s Harry Styles and I’m me. I didn’t make boys look twice, I didn’t turn heads and I wasn’t the type of girls boys dreamed about. I couldn’t attract attention from normal, non-famous boys I saw every day, so what hope did I have of ever attracting the eye of Harry Styles?

“Of course, I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“Why would I get hurt?” I sat on the bed, my feet were already stating ache, as was my head.

“His life is different… difficult.”

“Don’t you think I know that? Honestly why is everyone acting like I don’t know who he is? I’m well aware of who Harry Styles is. I can handle it.”

“Okay, fine. Just be careful.”

“Girls!” Lucy’s voice came from across the hall, she’d been in the kitchen pretending to cook but I knew she’d been trying to listen to our conversation. She had also been quizzing Lauren on Harry and me, trying to find anything out. She refused to believe that we were just friends. Apparently girls and boys couldn’t be friends.

“What?”

“Come here, don’t shout April.” I groaned and rolled my eyes, she was just shouting and now suddenly it was acceptable. Lauren laughed before strolling from my bedroom, taking her clutch with her, our conversation suddenly forgotten. I looked around making sure I had everything before following her.

“What?” I found her and Lauren at the breakfast bar, drinks in hand. “Why are you drinking champagne?” I frowned, as I watched Lucy pour me a glass, the bubbles shooting up the sides of the glass made it look like a bath bomb.

“Because you’re about to go to a celebrity party, I’m sure the champagne will be better than this, but at least you’ll be slightly accustomed to it.”

“Harry isn’t really the champagne type.” I accepted the glass she held out, I’d had champagne before, but I never liked it. It had an odd taste and I’m not sure why it was such a beloved drink.

“I imagine he is. Just imagine the stuff he drinks, probably treats Moet like bottled water.” Lauren replied, I frowned at her, wondering where that image of Harry had come from.

“You know Harry’s not like that. He drank Corona with me.” He seemed pleased with the drink I bought him the other day, and he’d drunk it all.

“Because he thinks he needs to act like a student to get you to like him. You’ll see a different side to him tonight. Guaranteed,” She gulped down her flute, looking the opposite of ladylike. I was about to reply when the intercom buzzed. “Thank god for that.” Lauren sprang around the door and picked up the phone, like she lived here. Lucy laughed before coming over to me as I listened to Lauren yelling at Tom.

“Have a good time and please enjoy yourself. Remember Harry wants you there.” She rubbed my arms and squeezed slightly, before Lauren stuck her head around the corner.

“We need to go; he’s having a bitch fit about the cab fare.” She rolled her eyes. “See you later Lucy Lu!”

“Bye, look after each other.” She told us as we reached the door. “If David Beckham turns up, send him over.”

We had to sign in. There was a register. We didn’t even have those at uni for our classes. Yet Harry had one at his birthday party. There were also two security men at the door and one inside, they looked a bit scary with their frowns and black clothing, but I guess they were meant to. Tom found it hilarious, saying how he remembered him having a party at the local children’s restaurant and it being odd that we were now at a private members club in Mayfair having to sign in to a party. Lauren mumbled something about it being pretentious and over the top. But I knew it was a precaution that needed to be in place, especially after seeing the men outside all stood around waiting for someone photo worthy walking past. We’d been ignored, thankfully but it didn’t stop them from taking good long looks at us, assessing us and our monetary value.

The party was on the second floor, but the music was booming throughout the building, the bass making the floorboards jolt and shake. It wasn’t the music I knew Harry listened to, but The 1975 were hardly party friendly, instead chart hits and EDM seemed to be the DJs choice. Lauren trailed behind Tom and I as we made our way upstairs, she was already complaining about her feet hurting and neither of us had any sympathy.

“Hurry up Lauren.” Tom called over his shoulder at her.

“If you were a gentleman, you’d come and help your girlfriend.”

“If you were capable of thinking, you’d have thought about this scenario.”

“Sorry I presumed there wouldn’t be stairs; blame the popstar, not me. I’m gonna give him hell when I see him.”

“Shut up the pair of you.” I snapped, they’d done nothing but bicker all the way here, about Tom’s lateness, the traffic, their present for Harry. Everything. I was about ready to push them both down the stairs.

We rounded a corner and came face to face with an open door and another security man. This one looked friendlier.

“Hi,” I smiled at him, he returned the smile before smirking at Lauren, who came up behind us huffing and puffing. “Don’t mind her; she’s just not used to exercise.” The man laughed before gesturing for our hands. He held out a stamp, and pressed it to my skin. It left a big red H on my hand, just like something you’d get in a club. I moved my brows in question.

“In case you need to go outside for a fag break. We can let you back in,” He stamped Tom and Lauren before moving away from the door. “In you go. Harry’s over in the corner.”

The room was dark, very dark, the only light coming from the flashing lights. Strobes of red, blue, orange moved across the walls, in a deliberate attempt to make you feel drunker. It was packed, I had expected a small party but there looked to be over a hundred people crowded into the room. Except it wasn’t really a room, it did look like a club, the floor was tiled and shiny, but lacked the traditional stickiness found in clubs. And there was a full length bar to the left of me, with a wall of alcohol and glasses.

“Is it a free bar? I hope it is.” Lauren yelled at the side of me, the music made it hard to hear much. I couldn’t even recognise the song it was so loud.

“I think he said it was.” Tom replied, slipping his hand onto her waist and pulling her over to the bar. They left me stood in the middle of the room looking around me, not knowing what to do, where to go or who to talk to.

“You look a little lost,” A voice boomed in my ear after a few moments of panic, a blush spreading across my cheeks at the proximity of the stranger and the feeling of breathe against my hair. To my right staring at me, was mound of hair and brown eyes. Nick Grimshaw, I forgot him and Harry were friends. I started failing, my mouth opening and closing as Nick assessed me with a smirk on his face. “You are meant to be here right?” I nodded, my mouth snapping closed. “What’s your name?”

“April.” I stuttered out, my blush deepening at my hideous display. I had no idea why I was acting like this, why I seemed to be starstruck. He talked on the radio; I didn’t even listen to him.

“Ah, yeah I know you. Harry’s over here.” He grabbed my hand and pulled me through the mass of bodies, calling out greetings as he passed people. I tightened my grip on the parcel in my hand. The present I’d bought for Harry suddenly feeling a ton heavier as regret set when the people thinned out and I caught a glimpse of a pile of presents in the corner. “Look who I found!” Nick yelled again, stopping us from walking. I looked around his body to see Harry snap his head towards Nick, his mouth opening in question before his eyes found mine. His face transformed from blank to a heartbreakingly wide smile in a second, making his dimples indent, eyes crinkle and my heart thump.

“April!” He jumped off his seat, the brown haired girl next to him grunting as he stumbled over her legs and bounded over to me. Nick managed to drop my hand and move away before Harry encased me in a tight hug.

My heart kicked up its tempo, my arms automatically circling his waist, the buckle of his belt digging into my stomach as he squeezed me. We’d never hugged before so I wasn’t prepared for the assault on my emotions and nose. I didn’t really know how to respond, I wasn’t a hugger and my heart and belly were both jumping and jolting about.

“I’m so glad you’re here.” Harry mumbled into my hair, his voice sending a tickle throughout my body. Despite the loud music and talking, I had no trouble hearing him.

“I said I’d be here.” I rubbed my free hand up and down his back, the fabric of his shirt moving against my hand and the hardness of his muscles making my palms sweat.

“I know. But I did wonder,” He laughed and pulled away, his cheeks slightly pink. I wanted to reach up and touch the pieces of his hair falling into his eyes, but he lifted a hand from my waist and shoved his whole fringe above his head before I had chance to embarrass myself. “Are Tom and Lauren here?” He looked over my head, pointlessly searching for them in the sea of people.

“They found the bar. And I hope it’s an open one, or Lauren will be pissed.”

“Won’t she be pissed anyway?” I laughed at his joke. “Come and meet people! I’m so happy you’re here,” If he didn’t stop saying that, I may collapse. He dropped his hold on my waist, but slipped his hand into mine, our fingers entwined. My heart twisting and tightening as we moved towards a table full of people. We were holding hands and I wasn’t sure why but I liked it.

“Guys this is April. She’s the genius I told you about; she’s also very funny, total mastermind when it comes to films and music and she looks extra pretty tonight.” I blushed at his introduction, looking down at my feet, making sure to suck in my stomach as a series of chuckles emitted from the people sat around the table. I quickly glanced at the faces, recognising no one, apart from Nick. At least I had time to prepare for the celebrities; if I knocked back a few beers it might not be so bad. “April, this is Sam, Lou, Ben, Tom and the girl sat sending me evil daggers is Gemma.” He pointed to the girl he’d been sat next too; she stuck her tongue out at him before smiling at me.

“I’m his big sister, so any concerns about his behaviour please direct them to me and I’ll pass them along to our mother. He’s already slightly drunk, so excuse any funny business.” She had a deeper voice than I would have imagined, but the sibling resemblance was uncanny. She was Harry with long hair.

“I am not drunk, ignore her, she’s telling lies.” Harry told me, pouting his lips and shaking his head, my heart stammered at how cute he looked.

“I love your dress.” A high voice on my left turned my attention away from Harry’s eyes and lips. I saw a girl with grey and blue hair looking at me, a smile on her lips. I thought for a moment before remembering she was called Sam.

“Thank you.” I smiled; glad my outfit fit in with her choice of a black shift and combat boots. “It’s very pretty. Have I said that before?” Harry chuckled next to me, he really was drunk.

“Come and sit down April. Tell us all about being a genius.” Gemma called to me over the table, patting the seat next to her. I squeezed Harry’s hand and let go, moving towards his sister in a rare flash of bravery. I normally had to be forced to talk to new people, hence why I still had the same best friend I did at eight, but these people were smiling and with Harry watching me I was able to paint on my courage.

“She’s mine Gemma; you’ve stolen enough of my friends. Find your own.”

“Zip it. Go and get the girl a drink,” Harry dramatically flapped his arms around before turning towards the bar, gently pushing his way past a snogging couple. “So, tell us about yourself April.” The whole table turned and looked at me, my cheeks flushed at the attention. I looked down, pulling my dress, covering my legs with the short fabric.

“Um. I don’t really know what to say.” I tried to smile, but I think it came out wrong, my courage all but vanishing. Why did Harry have to leave me alone with strangers?

“What do you do?” I looked at the man who asked the question, I think he was called Ben. He looked older than the others, a beard covered his lower face, his eyes looked kind and genuine.

“I’m at uni, in Leeds.”

“Leeds, we’re from Hull,” I turned my head and caught the eye of Lou, as she pointed to between herself and Sam. “And Tom.” She pointed at the man next to Ben; he was itching at a tattoo on his crowded arm, the inking’s twisting and morphing as he moved.

“I’ve been to Hull fair before.” I didn’t really know what else to say, so I pulled out the only thing I knew about the place.

“Hull fair is ace; we take Lux every year.” Tom told me, I knew from the fandom that Lux was a baby Harry was often with. I suddenly remembered seeing Lou’s face before; I’d seen her in photos of the boys.

“You’re the band’s hairdresser aren’t you?” I asked Lou, she smiled at me, not at all startled by my sudden question.

“I am. Not that they ever let me do any hairdressing. I do their makeup too.”

“Makeup?” I couldn’t help but smirk, the idea of the boys sat in chairs getting powder pressed to their cheeks was hilarious.

“Harry isn’t as flawless as he claims; he needs a lot of help.” Gemma replied, dragging a laugh from my lips. It felt extremely bizarre to be sat with the people Harry cared about, people who knew every side of him. I crazily felt like I actually fit in with these people.

“Yeah he does think he’s pretty awesome.” I replied, this time causing her to laugh.

“I like you; clearly you’re immune to his charm offence. It’s lovely to find someone like that.” I laughed, not wanting to admit that I was putty in his hands and he didn’t even have to try and charm me.”

“The same can’t be said for my sister. I think she fell in love with him.”

“He’s met your sister?” Gemma’s brows lifted up her forehead, they were perfectly plucked and shaped.

“Yeah, last night.”

“Where?” Her tone had changed to serious, she wasn’t joking anymore.

“I went for dinner with Lucy and her boyfriend and Harry showed up. He said he was eating alone so he joined us.” Gemma frowned at my answer and I felt like I’d given her the wrong answer.

“Have you heard this?” The rest of the table had started their own conversations, but turned back to Gemma. “Harry was with April and her sister last night.” Her tone held a note of disbelief. Tom and Ben both laughed.

“Why do I feel like I shouldn’t have said that?” I asked the table, causing Tom to laugh louder.

“Because that little shit had dinner plans with us and he cancelled, said had band stuff to do, something about the Brits. I can’t believe him.” Gemma sounded mad and looked ready to knock his head off.

“I’m sorry. He said he was alone or I wouldn’t have let him stay.” I can’t believe Harry cancelled on his sister and friends, to stay and eat dinner with me, Lucy and her freaky boyfriend.

“It’s not your fault, April.” Lou told me, reaching across and tapping my hand.

“He’s such a shit,” Gemma was sat fuming. “Why lie? It was his bloody idea.”

“Gemma, don’t say anything tonight, wait until tomorrow at least. He needs tonight.”

“He needs a slap.”

“Who needs a slap?” Harry’s timing was incredible, the table turned to look at Gemma, fearing she was about to blow.

“David Cameron, I mean he’s policies are just stupid.” She gave him a seamless answer, the lie falling easily. Harry gave her a funny look, not fully buying her response but he let it go as he slid a glass towards me.

“I didn’t know what to get, so I got you a long island iced tea. Lauren said you liked them.” Harry smiled and pulled out a chair opposite me.

“Thanks.” I smiled back before taking a sip of the drink. I did like long islands, but I knew I wouldn’t be having another one tonight, my eyes nearly watering at the strength of it.

“So have you had an interrogation?” He picked up his glass; the liquid was clear so it could have been anything.

“Not at all, they’ve been very nice. I hear you like to wear makeup.” Harry took a drink at the same moment I spoke; he coughed at my mention of makeup and sent liquid flying around the table.

“Smooth.” Gemma laughed at my side, as did the whole table. Harry’s cheeks turned pink and he scowled at his friends.

“I do not wear makeup.” Harry stared at me, deadly serious.

“Oh hun, the makeup bag I have at home with your name superimposed on it, would suggest you’re lying.”

“Shut up Lou!”

“Stop lying Harry!” They sat making faces at each other; acting more like brother and sister than work colleagues “I need a drink if I’m gonna deal with you all night, nice of you to offer your other guests a drink Harry.”

“You know where the bar is, you have functioning legs,” He coolly replied, which caused Tom to whoop from across the table. Lou stood up, glaring at her boyfriend, Sam and Gemma followed her lead, pushing their way past the boys around the table. I watched as they pushed their way into the crowd and felt Harry drop down at my side. “Hi.” He grinned at me.

“Hey, happy birthday!”

“Thank you very much. I spy something… Dare I ask if it’s for me?” He wriggled his eyebrows at the parcel I still had clutched in my hand, excitement colouring his voice.

“You dare and it is for you. I kinda feel I should warn you not to expect much.”

“I didn’t expect anything, so I’m already happy.”

“That is such a cliché answer. Everyone expects presents on their birthday.”

“True and I’m secretly bursting with excitement about the pile I’ve got forming over there. It’s huge and I’m a child.” I laughed and handed him the gift, I’d wrapped it in pink shiny foil paper and topped it with a purple bow.

“Love the paper. Very manly.”

“Says the guy in the heart shirt.” I eyeballed his button up, the dark shirt was littered with white love hearts and it honestly looked like something a woman would wear. “Did your mother lend you that?”

“Yeah, cos I haven’t heard that before. It’s Burberry. Men’s.” He added.

“Just because it’s Burberry, doesn’t excuse it.” I secretly loved the shirt, it made him look very cute and the dark fabric complimented his skin tone perfectly.

“Whatever, you’re as bad as Gemma. She didn’t stop laughing for an hour after she saw me.” He was running his fingers over the present, in an attempt to figure out what it was.

“I wish I could say the paper was a joke, but it was the only stuff I had and I’m tight so I wasn’t buying another roll.” Harry laughed before sticking a finger into a gap and ripping the paper off, he wasn’t one to save the paper, though he had removed the bow and stuck it in his shirt pocket. He stared at the gift before cracking up, rolling his head back.

“I hope you aren’t suggesting I need this?” He waved the book about.

“Take it any way you wish.” I took another sip of my drink; the ice had diluted the alcohol slightly.

“You know I’m going to be bombarding you with jokes now. I might instate a daily joke service. How do you feel about daily texts?”

“I’ll block your number.”

“You love my jokes. Everyone does.”

“Did you miss the part where I bought you a joke book? I really recommend you read it. ASAP.”

“Whatever, I’m so underappreciated,” he huffed, leaning back against the back of the chair, before throwing himself forward again, his face looming close to mine. I could see the tiny wisps of hair dotting his upper lip. “Thank you very much April. It is the best present I’ve ever had.” He placed a kiss against my cheek, holding it for a few seconds while my heart clattered about before blowing against my skin, the smarting of fine hair on his chin and the vibration both resulting in a series of high pitched squeals from me.

“Harry!” I screeched at his move, feeling a patch of spit on my cheek. I lifted his arm using it to wipe against the wet patch he’d left. Harry was dying with laughter his entire face bright red as he howled, people sending us curious glances while Harry struggled to breathe.

“Your face was a picture!” His whole face was scrunched up in glee, a sight that had my own lips twitching.

“You’re a dick.” I crossed my arms, trying my best to imitate the pouted lips he wore so well.

“Oh come on, smile.” He poked my side, causing me to jump. He then did it again and again, until a laugh escaped.

“Stop it!” I coughed out between giggles.

“Never!” He yelled through a roll of laughter, jabbing me a few more times before we both heard a cough. “Niall!” Harry bellowed, holding his arms out to his bandmate, leaving me breathless and nursing my aching ribs.

Niall Horan was stood looking at me, his eyes were glued on me, the bright blue colour visible even in the dark room, roaming over my face, taking me in. his intensity was causing me to blush. Again.

“ ’Sup, who’s ya pal?” He nodded at me, dropping a wink in my direction, his eyes locking on mine.

“This is April Summers.” Harry slid an arm around my shoulders. An exchange seemed to take place between Harry and Niall, a silent conversation told with their eyes.

“April Summers, lovely to meet you. I’m Niall.” He said my name with a hint of familiarity and came so close to me, his eyes blurred in my vision, before leaning down and kissing my cheek.

“Hi, Niall.” I smiled as he leant back up. He looked a lot younger than in photos; his baby soft face and bright blue eyes gave him a youthful and naïve appearance.

“Liam’s around somewhere, I lost him by the models.” Niall shrugged, not seeming to care about his friend as he laughed. I was certain Liam had a girlfriend but I wasn’t about to question it.

“Where’s my present?” Harry asked Niall, necking back a drink that seemed to appear from nowhere.

“In the shop,” Niall reached across for my drink, not asking before he took a sip. He cringed at the taste. “That tastes like shit.” He pushed the drink back to me; I definitely wasn’t drinking it now it had his germs all over it.

“I know.” I told him, hearing a gasp from Harry.

“What? I thought you liked it.” He looked wounded, his smile disappearing as his eyes and lips doubled in size. His pout was painful.

“I do normally, it’s just very strong and I’d like to be able to remember how to walk.”

“You should have said, I’d have gotten you something else. Have mine,” He lifted the glass to me, before realising it was empty, his face dropping as he turned back to me. “I’ll go get another one.” He made a move to stand up, but stopped when Niall held his hand up.

“I’ll go mate, I need one too. What you having?” He asked me with a smile on his face.

“Corona please.”

“Coming up mi ’lady.” He dropped another wink, making Harry create a retching noise and making me jab my elbow at him. Niall ignored him and sauntered off towards the bar.

“I’ll have to keep an eye on him.” I heard Harry mumble, but I ignored him and watched the partygoers throw themselves around the room, the hits of the past years ringing through their veins.

Harry sat with his head ducked, flipping through the pages of the joke book, I heard a soft snigger when he landed on a page near the back.

“Don’t tell me, it’s actually funny.”

“What's a frog's favourite drink?”

“Oh god.”

“Croaka Cola!” the grin stretched across his face was adorable, making up for the atrocious joke.

“That book was supposed to make your jokes better!”

“That joke is brilliant!”

“A frog could actually think of a better one.”

“Debatable. Wouldn’t tell em like I can.” My heart stammered when he dropped a wink at me. I found myself staring at him for a few moments before I could speak again.

“W-what else did you get?”

“Gem got me a jacket, Lou got me a photo of Lux and me, put it in a frame Lux decorated and mum and Robin got me a camera.”

“You a photographer now?”

“Nah, not yet, wanna start taking more photos though. I see so much but don’t really see it too. Ya know?”

“Yeah,” I knew his life was full of touring amazing places but I also knew what fans were like, I was a part of the fandom, I saw the mobbing at airports and outside hotels, it wasn’t easy for any of the boys and Harry always seemed to have it worse. “You should make it a thing; try something new in every place you go. Like Strudel in Berlin or Churros in Mexico. Though you’ve probably had both of those, you can get Churros on bloody Oxford Street.”

“I had some at Chimichanga once, never from Oxford Street.”

“There’s a really awesome place called Seven, it’s in Brixton so a bit far out but the Churros are to die for and I want to bathe in the chocolate sauce.” Harry was staring at me while I spoke, probably shocked by my passion for Churros, the little smile on his face sending my blood pressure sky high.

“That good? We’ll have to good sometime. Think I can brave a trip to Brixton.”

“Once you’ve had them, you’ll walk a million miles for them. guaranteed.” My voice didn’t betray, didn’t let Harry hear how ecstatic I was about the idea of making plans with him, that we could take a road trip across the river and get lost in South London while stuffing our faces with sugary bites of heaven and singing along to our favourite bands. It was stupid to think it would happen, but I couldn’t stop the image lodging itself in my head.

***

I was drunk. My ears were fuzzy, like someone had stuffed cotton wool in them, and I was swaying. My eyes were also starting to tingle and blur at the sides. It was my own fault, so I had no right to complain about the hangover I could feel fermenting. I’d only drunk so much so I could try and get through the night, but my body didn’t seem to care about that, it was determined to punish me. I’d started necking back the shots when the stripper walked in, a women supposedly dressed as a police officer, had stormed in, demanding to speak to whoever’s party it was. Harry had shit himself, actually believing the woman as she sat him down and told him how naughty he’d been.

Of course it was all fake, it took Harry a little longer than necessary to realise, and in that time the women had shred her top and unbuttoned her trousers. Nick had bought Harry a stripper as a present, the whole room was in stitches, watching and snapping photos as Harry tried to cover his eyes and his cheeks burned, the grin never dropping from his face. If he hadn’t held my hand earlier and if I wasn’t so completely besotted with him when I had no reason to be, then I might have found it funny too. Instead I’d found it devastating, seeing everyone ogle her perfectly toned and curved body, while the grin on Harry’s face slowly killed me. He hadn’t touched, but only because he knew it was being filmed, I’m sure he wanted to.

I’d just thrown another vodka down my throat, contemplating how I could leave without saying goodbye when I felt fingers touch my back, before they slid around my front, encasing my against a firm body. The shiver down my spine alerted me to who it was.

“Come dance with me.” His words were slurred, tumbling together; he was as drunk as me, if not more. He didn’t phrase it as a question, more of a demand, but we both knew I’d never say no. He didn’t wait for my response, before pulling me backwards and further into him, our bodies pressed together in ways I’d only dreamed of. Holding me against his side, an arm still glued to my waist we walked into the mass of bodies; blending in under the dark lighting and the drunken swaying bodies.

He spun me around, a little too roughly for my suffering head, but all that vanished when our chests collided. I could feel his heart beating, the fast thud radiating into my own chest, mixing with my heartbeat. It felt like our hearts wanted to leap from our chests, given a chance, I knew mine would. It would leave me and run straight to him, where it was beginning to build a home.

He slowly wrapped his arms around my waist, pulling my lower body closer to him, every deliberate move made me feel more and more lightheaded. We were flush from head to toe; his belt buckle was digging into my stomach again, I could feel every part of him. Slipping my hands up his arms, revelling in the bumps and curves of him before locking my hands around his neck, I could feel his pulse practically quicken as we settled in our position. A few strands of his hair tickled my fingers, the soft curls slightly damp from the warm room, moved around my fingers. He started to slowly move us from side to side, swaying us. The music had calmed down, the heavy bass replaced with a soft, lulling Ben Howard song that seemed to float around us. Our foreheads moved towards each other, him having to bend down to reach mine, before our clammy skin touched. I never wanted to move again.

His spread his hands across my lower back, and with his long fingers holding me tight and close, I felt safer than I’d ever felt before. He slipped a hand inside the opening between the lace and slip of my dress; the heat of his hands easily seeping through the material, warming me to my core. I shivered, seeing a smile move across his face, transforming his features. He knew his effect on me.

Our eyes moved slowly to each other, both of us drinking in the sight of the other, my eyes roaming over his broad shoulders, the long expanse of his neck, his perfectly formed jaw bone. I could look at him forever and never get bored. Another shiver ran through me when I finally reached his eyes, finding them waiting for mine, the green I’d seen in photos for the past three years, would never match up to how they looked in real life. So many colours ran together, swirls of browns and dark greens, which no camera would ever capture it and I was so thankful for that. He pressed against my back, trying to get us closer, the roughness of his jeans against my bare legs only heightening the sensation. Our eyes didn’t stray as he moved his face towards me, lips slightly pursed, the gap between us closely quickly.

It was mere seconds before our noses touched, sliding against each other before slotting perfectly together. He stopped moving. I could feel his breath against my tingling lips, I wanted to move but I was frozen. I needed him to move. It was agonising. He grinned before moving again, slower. Painfully slow. Our lips ghosted over each other, barely touching. I barely registered the slight ridges of his chapped skin, before he pressed his plump, full lips against mine. My eyes closed and my head moved backwards, the force of his movement taking me by surprise. Our lips moving together instantly moved against one another, both of us battling for dominance. I curled my fingers around his hair, feeling him groan against my lips. His reaction had us both smiling against the others lips, the pressure never once wavering.

My heart was about to explode from my chest, when he forced my lips open, a blast of hot air hitting my throat. I gasped, unable to breathe fully as he gently nibbled my lower lip. His grip was the only thing keeping me from collapsing; I’d lost all feeling in my legs. I tightened my grip on his hair, scratching my nails against his scalp as he touched my lip with his tongue. I felt like I was on fire. Every inch of my body craved more. His tongue moved teasingly slowly over my lip, before it touched my own. A jolt ran through my body, I wanted to be closer to him, I needed to be closer. I was desperate for air, swallowing his breathes as I attempted to catch my own.

He groaned again, the sound vibrating around my mouth. We’d stopped swaying but he started to attempt walking backwards, out of the crowd I’d forgotten about. Our bodies collided with other guest; he let out a moan into my mouth. My eyes shot open, seeing his still closed, our mouths still moving together. I unwound my fingers from his hair and moved my arms down his chest, his heart still pounding. His eyes fluttered open, the green colour gone, replaced by his black pupils. I dragged my lips away, wanting to savour the feel I knew I’d never experience again. I gently pressed against his chest, separating our entwined bodies. The flash of confusion at my sudden distance nearly floored me.

“What’s wrong?” His was low; stirring something in me I wanted to squash.

“We can’t.” I shook my head, withdrawing my hands from him, the beat of his heart doing nothing to slow mine or clear my head.

“April. I want to.” He sighed my name; I closed my eyes, loving the way it sounded against his lips. I needed to get away before I welded our lips together again.

“No. You don’t. You’re drunk. I’m drunk. I’m going to go.” I took a step away from him; he followed immediately, closing the space again.

“Don’t go. Stay. Please.” His pleas were killing me as his hand grappled for mine. I didn’t let him entwine our fingers again. I knew he wouldn’t remember this in the morning. I would. I’d remember it forever. It would torture me.

“I don’t want to. Just let me go please. ” Something flashed across his eyes, I couldn’t tell what it was, but it destroyed me. I stepped away again, this time he made no attempt to follow. He let him arms fall against his sides, looking utterly defeated. I couldn’t even force a smile, before I spun on my feet and ran away.

She was at his birthday party. Fuck

Arry is real

I hate her

She’s so fat.

That dress looked ready to burst

Harry was so fucked he probs didn’t know she was there

She looks so rough in that photo gemma posted

What does harry see in her

#aiw #chapter 6

7 notes · View notes