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well-its-not-human-anymore · 3 years

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Hi Hi!!!! So I've been following your account for a little while now and I love every single comedy bomb you drop on what you write so I was wondering....

How would the boys react to their S/O who is usually reserved when at the lair, doing a full 180 when at April's? Like they could be April's roommate or something?....

Like crackhead energy, dishing out memes and vines and literally having a duel with Casey about leftovers in the fridge?... Yeah I know it's very specific 💀

I don't know.....the idea just popped into my head but I lack the creativity and comedy skills for that...so I was wondering if you could do something with this?.....

It's totally fine, if not 😁😁

This is... 100% me. I love this and I'm gonna pour my soul into it. Also I have started mentally referring to these as comedy bombs and I refuse to stop.

Also, I hope you don't mind that I wrote these in oneshot form instead of bullet points. It just made more sense for my brain.

TMNT Oneshots

The boys with a partner whose reserved at the lair but an absolute crack gremlin at home 🤣

Donatello

Donnie may have been a man of science, all logic and facts and numbers and things. But he absolutely believed that everyone had three separate faces, you were direct proof of that theory. While the purple terrapin had known you for nearly a year you’d only started dating a month ago and it shocked him that he was still uncovering new things about you. He loved it, sure, but it had a tendency to give him figurative whiplash.

He’d always known you to be calm and collected, maybe even a bit shy. He swore you’d explode if more than one person tried to talk to you at the same time. So it wasn’t an over exaggeration for him to say that your behavior at home nearly made him break his neck.

He was only there to help April fix a bug in her laptop and to confirm your next date, he was excited to see you since you’d had no contact in person for a week because of your schedules. Just lots of phone calls and exchanged text messages. You both missed each other like crazy and your roommate had neglected to inform you that your boyfriend was coming over.

Hers was already there and he was driving you up the wall, you’d never actually thought about committing a murder but Casey was pushing you very close to the edge of snapping. And he might as well have crane-kicked you off your cliff of patience and into the rushing river of “you little fucking shit I’m gonna piss on your grave” below. You hadn’t even heard Donnie come in through the window much less his conversation with April over her computer.

All you knew was that Casey had come parading into your room like a tyrant eating the leftovers in the fridge that you had specifically put your name on. That did it. Your eyes had skimmed over the top of your textbook to meet the asshole in front of you.

“Casey?”

He couldn’t speak through the mouthful he was trying to chew and grunted in pathetic response.

“Is that my cheeseburger?”

You’d never seen a living person imitate a pug’s facial structure so well, the man’s eyes bugged out of his head and he tossed the takeout box on your desk before turning and bolting out of your room. You followed about two steps behind with a bottle of shampoo in your hand. No, you weren’t entirely sure where you’d grabbed it from, all you knew was that it was your weapon. And it quickly became a very messy problem when it missed your target (Casey’s head) and slammed into the wall, exploding on impact.

You didn’t think you’d thrown it that hard.

“April April help help help helpppppppppppppp-'' The two on the couch had looked up during the chase throughout the apartment, Donnie was mostly curious at what Casey was screaming about. Not a lot usually made the guy make that noise. He was then distracted by April grabbing the laptop and passing it to him, she then clambered over his legs to sit behind him.

“YOU UGLY ASS CROISSANT! FUCKING PANINI HEAD- IT HAD MY NAME ON IT YOU DAFT AVACADO!”

Your boyfriend almost went vertical upon watching you tackle Casey to the floor and knee him in the groin. You shook the terrified man under you and slammed him a little harder into the rug.

“Touch my shit again and I’m gonna make the beaches of Normandy look like a goddamn family vacation.”

Then you climbed off of him and stood, brushing your disheveled t-shirt off with a huff. Donnie caught your attention and you raised your head to grin excitedly at him.

“Hi Dove! April didn’t tell me you were coming over,” you practically skipped over to the couch to peck him on the cheek, “I missed ya, are we still on for Saturday?”

He nodded in complete shock, his gaze flitting from you to Casey, who was still wheezing on the floor and clutching his dick.

“Uhhh yeah! Yeah, yep, Still good for Saturday. Uhm, completely unrelated question, where the hell did you learn to grapple like that?”

You shrugged absentmindedly, already walking to the hall closet to grab cleaning supplies for the puddle of shampoo in the walkway.

“Just kinda picked it up I guess? I’ve watched you guys train enough.”

Leonardo

See, Leo had always known that you were hiding something from him. Be it your true personality or some deep dark secret. He wasn’t really in a rush to find out, you’d tell him when you were ready. The leader enjoyed your quiet disposition anyways, you gave good advice and liked to meditate with him, what more could he ask for? What more could he want?

Well, maybe if you got along better with his family, although he supposed that wasn’t your fault, you always had been a bit shy. Even six months into your relationship with him, Leo only hoped that you’d warm up to his brothers eventually. You seemed to do alright with Splinter, that was a plus for the situation. It wasn’t that you were mean or impolite to the others, you were just… avoidant. Distant, quiet, whatever word you wanted to use. You just didn’t seem comfortable at the lair.

He was excited that April had asked to host a game night though, maybe you’d come out of your shell (haha, see what I did there?) and socialize, even for a little bit. They’d all shown up a few minutes early to make sure April didn’t need help with anything, she’d assured them that everything was handled and made sure to inform Leo that you would be back shortly with Casey from your snack run. Mikey had joked that you’d ditched the get together to avoid them but they all knew it ran the possibility of not being a joke.

You unlocked the door and held it open so Casey could get inside without tripping himself before entering yourself and kicking your shoes off. Leo looked up to meet your eyes and you sent him a wild grin, your entire face lit up with amusement.

“Hi babes! Are you ready to get your ass kicked at Monopoly?”

All the poor turtle could do was nod.

“Good. I did grab drinks by the way, April there should be a mixer in the cooler bag, Donnie there’s some of that lemon lime stuff that you said you wanted to try, Mikey, orange crush as usual, Raph I tried to go for Dr. Pepper but they were out so I figured that root beer was a safe second. And Leo they had a new boba flavor that you haven’t had yet so I grabbed one. If you don’t like it then you can have mine, I just have the peach royal.”

Beverages were tossed and they were lucky that their surprise didn’t throw off their catching skills. You and April shared a quick word in the kitchen as you took your coat off and ran a hand through your hair.

After some arguments team captains were decided and Donnie nearly had a heart attack when you picked him instead of Leo or either of your friends. He even went so far as to point at himself to make sure you weren’t joking. You declared that while you loved your boyfriend his morals were too strong to be competitive, Donnie’s were not, he said so himself.

They were all surprised that you’d remembered that conversation.

It wasn’t until halfway through the game that things started getting heated, you and Mikey were nearly jumping across the table at each other. And it visibly took all of your strength to not burst out laughing when he started yelling.

"YOU KNOW WHAT? THIS IS CHEATING! YOU'RE CHEATING! GET ON TOP OF THE FRIDGE!"

April and Casey were snorting into their arms as you got to your feet and walked towards the kitchen, making a poor attempt at climbing the appliance.

"THIS HOUSE IS A FUCKING NIGHTMARE!"

Raphael

Raph had always been under the impression that you were never really 100% yourself around him, he knew for a fact that you weren’t when you stayed over. He’d never seen someone so aggressively avoid someone, except himself of course. You were his partner of almost a year and it seemed like you were never going to let your true self shine. However you did seem to lighten up when you were alone with him, he supposed that was normal, but you may as well have been a pair of old earbuds that only work when you held them a certain way at the lair.

He honestly hadn’t expected that to change tonight, not given the text that Casey had sent him informing him of April’s recent breakup with whatever guy she’d been dating. So when he climbed in through the window and saw both you and Casey sitting on the floor in front of the bathroom he really didn’t think that the words out of your mouth would be-

“April you’ve got another twenty minutes of this then I’m ripping the door off the hinges!”

Casey shot you a look and you shrugged nonchalantly before getting to your feet and walking over to your confused boyfriend.

“Hey, sorry about this. Casey only texted you as a last resort if he needed someone to stop me from tearing the door off.”

Raph found that peculiar, “Uh, couldn’t he do it himself?”

The man in question looked up from his spot on the floor.

“Nah dude, they’re crazy. Last time I tried stopping them from doing something they nearly knocked my damn tooth out while screaming, and I quote, “If you put your hands on me I’m gonna fucking rip your face off” and quite frankly I don’t have the balls to test that.”

“No no dude, that’s valid. I wouldn’t either. Babe, why are you so-”

You raised an eyebrow at him over a glass of water, “Violent? I’m not Raph. These two just have little bitch feelings.”

He found it hard not to laugh at that and fifteen minutes later when you left his side to approach the door again it sent him reeling.

“This shit’s temporary April. You’ve got nice teeth and a fat ass, stuff your feelings down!”

Michelangelo

There would never be a time where Mikey wasn’t a prankster with you, it was just simply non-negotiable. You were cool with that and he was aware, he was also aware that no pranks were to be pulled at the lair. So he’d reign it in while you visited, just for a short while. But you’d never said anything about the apartment and Mikey was a creature of opportunity.

Unfortunately Leo talked him out of it and forced him not to pull anything while they visited. The leader was already on edge so when he walked in with the others following closely behind you were the first person to see him. Your eyes caught Mikey’s instantly and you might as well have been telepathic at that moment. But you took one look at Leo’s solid, angry face and seized your moment.

They weren’t at all ready for the scream.

“GET YOUR FUCKIN’ DOG BITCH!”

And they also weren’t ready for Mikey’s response of, “It don’t bite.”

And Leo was not ready for the pillow that got whipped at his face at incredibly high speed.

“YES IT DO-”

So when Leo finally realized that they were yelling at him his mood did not improve at all and in fact declined sharply into a pit of “oh fuck”. And that was how you ended up on Mikey’s shoulder getting dragged away from any sort of repercussion for your actions.

These got a little short near the end but I hope you like 'em and I hope I was able to capture what you had in mind! 😁

-Mars 🌠

#tmnt bayverse #tmnt headcanons #tmnt x reader #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #writing blog #writing requests #ask box #ask response

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hitsuackerman · 4 years

Text

Unpredictable (Overhaul x Reader) pt. 2

a/n: I AM GARBAGE FOR THIS MAN. HE IS VILE AND MERCILESS BUT IF HE ISNT CRAZY... HES A CLASSY AND WELL-SPOKEN BIRD BOY. ehem on with the second part ehem

warnings: cursing

Links: part 1, part 3

Masterlist to my other fics: here :)

The night was now settled and you were locked in your room. Papers and folders all spread out on your desk and bed. If you were to venture into this case, you would have to know the details you had missed out on.

By now, your butt was aching and so did your back. Glancing at the other piles of folders, you counted how many cases you were working on at the same time. If there was one thing the chief loved to give you, it was more work than you could finish.

As of the moment, you were in charge of 9 other cases. Some related to large scale companies and others identity frauds. Though the cases were now generic for the 6 years you’d been working with the force, it was and will always be draining.

This mission with Overhaul felt like a breath of fresh air. The risks presented here were much higher compared to normal but you were more than prepared, at least you hoped you were. Truth be told, this wouldn’t be the first time you teamed up with a villain. That was your secret as to why you moved up so fast. Every now and then, you would propose a compromisation and in turn they would help you catch your target. You did, however, avoid this as much as possible.

Ruffling your hair, you gathered the mess and prepared for Gei’s arrival.

When he did arrive, the solemnity of your apartment faded. And you did not mind one bit.

“BABY GIRL!” He twirled his neon pink purse in the air as he entered himself into your apartment. His other hand carried the necessities for the night. “Okay. I got the food and the booze. I also bought my silk pajamas we use for occasions like this.”

“Mine are ready. Don’t worry.” You giggled at the sight of a toned man unloading the contents of the bag with a pinky up. “I also prepared the movies we could watch for tonight. AND, I already informed Nao to not call me for the rest of the night.”

“Okay, alright, mhmm. Imma go change into my silkies and you do you.” He said as he trotted towards the guest room. When the door closed, you began to prepare the dinner you had planned for the both of you.

Gei was never a picky eater but it was always a challenge to make sure he was well fed. Compared to you, his eating habits were much more constant. Healthier even since he usually counted his calories because he wanted to keep his waist ‘snatched’. He had told you beforehand that he was in the mood for some chicken. Luckily, you had the ingredients for grilled bruschetta chicken.

Prepping everything, you began to heat your tiny grill and sliced the tomatoes and garlic. The sound of the chopping eventually replaced with the speakers blasting Todrick Hall. Shaking your head with amusement, you went about with the preparations while your friend arranged the sofa.

Not long after, dinner was now ready and both of you were now seated at the dining table. Chatting about whatever came to your heads. A few gossips of heroes here and there but mostly about your work and his. Sip by sip, the wine bottle slowly emptied. Gei always knew the best wines out there. You would always praise him and he would merely pout his lips and wiggle his brows.

Stomachs full, Gei demanded he do the dishes while you wait for him at the sofa. It had been quite some time since you took the time off. Stretching your joints, you gathered your hair into a messy bun and dusted off imaginary dust on your silk pajamas. Taking some bowls from underneath the coffee table, you filled them up with chips and placed the wine inside the chiller. When everything seemed ready, you flopped back onto the sofa and turned the TV on.

A knock on your door caused you to jump a bit. Looking at the clock, it was now 9pm. Grabbing your phone, there were no messages or missed calls. You also didn’t recall ordering anything this week. Walking towards the door, you took a look at Gei who was finishing up the last of the plates.

Looking through the peephole, you let out a rather loud gasp.

“Oh fuck no.” You took a step backward and ran towards the kitchen. Grabbing Gei by his wrist, you pulled him out of his trance and dragged him to the living room. Practically throwing him to the sofa, he stared at you with wide eyes.

“Boo, I know your as virgin as the spinster next door but I am a gay man and I do not intend on taking you tonight.” He commented.

“He’s here.”

Another knock filled the room. It was still soft but a bit louder than before.

“Girl?! Did you call in Magic Mike?!” He began to bounce up and down while fanning himself.

“More like Germaphobe Gus.” You motioned for him to stay on the couch and remain quiet. Walking towards the door once more, you slowly opened it only to be met with the bird mask again. The green jacket and purple fur did not compliment his eyes. “What can I do, Overhaul? You could’ve dropped me a message you know.”

“I have something to discuss with you.” His eyes travelled behind you and back at you. “May I come in? Or do I have to usher myself?”

Stuttering a response, you grunted and moved to the side. The towering man slowly made his way in. Taking in the rather luxurious decorating your small hallway had to offer. Waiting for you to take the lead, you led him to the living room. When your eyes met with Gei, you signalled him to head on to the guest room.

Understanding what you meant, Gei took his wine glass and cat walked to his room. He stopped in his tracks when he saw the tall man behind you. Making a gesture with his hand, he threw his imaginary wig and winked at you. He was no idiot, though. He knew who it was. For precautions, he left his door 3 inches open.

“That’s why you should’ve told me, Overhaul.” You gestured for him to sit down. When you saw his eye twitching at the spot you pointed to, you let out a sigh and reached for the fur patch behind you. Putting it on the spot, you watched as he stared at the tan material. “That has been newly laundered so I guarantee it’s clean. Now either you develop varicose veins or sit down. I could care less.”

He finally took a seat. This was a rare sight, you had to admit. Overhaul, a class-B villain, sitting on a fur rug while staring at a bottle of wine.

“So what do you have?”

“The boss of the Fukuo Kai will be attending a gala in 3 days time.”

“And you got that how?” You raised a brow and tilted your head.

“None of your business.” He leaned on the sofa and his eyes began to wander every inch your place had to offer. “I’ll have Mimic send the invitation when we get a hold of it. You will be informing your partner about this, right?”

“Yeah. I have to.” You nodded and eyed his bird mask again. “Do you always wear that thing?”

“It’s to block the horrid air the world has to offer.” He said in a deadpan voice. You wanted to laugh at his remark but it would probably lead to nothing good. Stifling a giggle, his eyes darted to yours. “Laugh if it pleases you. The world we live in is vile and sick. People have this so-called hero-syndrome to them that makes me want to puke. Tch. To think that quirks come from rats.”

“You do know that’s only a theory, right?” You did not mean to challenge him but he was interesting to talk to, admittedly.

“It’s a theory that disgusts me to the core.” He was about to say something but changed his mind. Instead, he decided to shift the focus to you. “You talk so casually with me. Aren’t you scared? I could send you to oblivion with a single flick of my finger.”

“I guess I’m immune to it?” You answered with a question. “I’ve been with the police force for 6 years now and I’ve had my fair share of villains. You know Kuraim? That dude who thought he could take over Nagoya with his little group?”

“He was annoying. He came into contact with the previous boss and asked for assistance. When he was declined he took out a few of our men.”

“Oh shit, that was your group! I totally forgot about that. But, yeah. He was a nutjob but my team managed to capture him a week after that.”

“Your name wasn’t featured in the news. It was another inspector’s. Why?” His fingers were not linked with each other and his back leaning on the plush throw pillow.

“I’m linked with the Abegawa Tenchu Kai. If my name gets released to the public, those nosy reporters would definitely put two and two together. I prefer to keep it low key though. Less media, the better.”

“I see.” He stood up and bowed. “I must get going. I have disturbed your evening.”

“IT’S FINE BABY BOY!” Gei shouted from the room. Face palming at his remark, you took Overhaul by the end of his jacket. Your index and thumb delicately tugging him towards your door.

His eyes widened when he saw you holding his clothes. But with how clean your apartment was, he brushed it off and let you do things your way. Though, he would have to burn this jacket or dispose of it one way or another. Not noticing you had turned around, his face still had that perplexed yet pissed off look to it.

Realizing that you were invading his personal space, you apologized and let go of the inch of fabric you had held on to.

“You’re surely going to throw that, aren’t you?” You teased. A small smirk forming in the corners of your mouth.

“I just might.” He retorted as he stared with disgust. A thought came to his mind. “Or not.”

Taking his jacket off, you stared at how his broad shoulders moved as he removed the article of clothing. The black dress shirt hugged his toned arms rather well. The pale gray tie around his neck matched his overall appearance pretty well. He had taste, save for the jacket. Unless that jacket had sentimental value so it would make sense why.

Your sight turned black for a second before you were face to face with him. The rather heavy jacket resting on your forearms.

‘Holy hell, his cologne smells divine.’ You cursed yourself for breathing in at the perfect time. Either the wine was hitting you but his scent reminded you of mayoram and geranium. Exotic and expensive.

“Keep it.” You swore he was smirking underneath that mask. “Either that or I overhaul it.”

“For an antisocial person, you sure know how to charm people…” You thought out loud.

“Not really. I’m just putting it to where it belongs.” He opened the door for himself. “The garbage.”

Your jaw dropped and before you could retaliate, he had closed the door. Locking your doors harshly, you went back towards the living room and were met with Gei. One leg resting on the other. The same glass of wine on his hand accompanied with a rather mischievous glint in his gray eyes. Taking a sip, he exaggerated ‘ahh’ after swallowing the beverage.

“You into villains now, booboo?” He teased as he pointed to the same spot Overhaul had sat down on. The way you flopped on the sofa and tossed the jacket on to the arm rest only made him even more curious. “You’re working with Overhaul?”

His tone was serious but you knew he was in full gossip mode. You didn’t mind telling Gei these things though. He knew how to protect himself and your dad also kept tabs on him to make sure he was safe.

“That’s what I wanted to talk about. The mission I’m currently partaking involves that guy you just saw.” You explained. Absentmindedly, you reached for the jacket and began feeling for any sort of recording chips or video cameras. Deeming it safe, you placed it beside you and began to twirl the purple fur. “I get why they're doing this but it just sucks that I have to meddle with the yakuza. It’s none of my business and it puts my job at risk.”

“What does Nao-nao say about all this?”

“He says I’m the only one fit for the job. I’ve caught up on the details they gathered and he makes a point, sadly. My only problem now is the person I have to work with. It’s a miracle in itself I keep my grounds with him.”

“What personality does he have?” He took a sip of his wine and leaned in closer.

“The records I have from a year ago state he’s an antisocial sociopath. I’ve never dealt with a lot of villains who had those. Most of them were just lost or goal driven to a bizarre or lost cause.”

“He was rather smooth when talking to you. He looks clean as well.” He raised an eyebrow and cocked his head. “He’ll surely see you as a challenge, boo.”

“What do you mean?” You reached for your glass and poured it half full.

“If I recall, during your conversation, he asked you if you were intimidated. Scared. The answer you gave him surely bothered him. It would go against his personality if he were the least intrigued by you.” He pointed out.

Gei had a point. If you saw him as an enigma, he probably saw you as a pawn in his game. One way or another, he would surely make a move and try to manipulate you. Though you were aware of the signs of subtle manipulations, Overhaul had a different way of handling things. This meeting with Gei proved right. You needed to move with greater caution.

“BUT!” He snapped. “He looks like a full course meal, am I right? A five Michelin star meal served in only the finest china the world has to offer.”

Speechless at how he had described Overhaul, you shook your head and took a long sip.

“Don’t sip away from me, missy.” He stretched out his leg and poked you with his curled toes. “Don’t think I didn’t see you checkin’ him out. And I bet my plump ass that wasn’t the first time you eyed him…”

“You’re delusional.” You rolled your eyes.

“What does his jacket smell like? He probably wears some expensive ass shit that lasts 24 hours. Those that only have limited stocks to them or costs the rent of this whole unit.” He pushed you a bit with a little more force with his leg. “Don’t lie to me, dollface.”

Hissing at his remark, you slumped your shoulders and folded your legs. Grabbing the throw pillow and using it as a small table.

“Fine. He smells expensive. You’re right.” You broke down and the smug look on his face only told you to expand your answer. “And yes, I may have checked him out when I went to their headquarters to finalize the plan.”

“And what are you going to do with that jacket of his?” He stretched out his hand and you gave it to him. His mouth formed a small ‘o’ at the weight of it. Sniffing it, he let out a humming sound and placed it on his arm rest. Petting the fur as if it were some small animal. “He does smell like a hefty price tag.”

“I’ll probably just store it somewhere. I might need it in the future.”

“True. You will be extra careful now, won’t you?” He was now staring straight into you. Concern showing in his features. Extending a hand to you, you held on to it and he squeezed it. “Let’s say a silent prayer to our savior, Queen Todrick, to keep your virgin ass safe from the man whom we know as Overhaul. Amen~”

Giggling at his antics, you repeated his last words. The rest of the night was spent watching movies and munching on chips. When the time came where it was close to 4am, the lights were now off and both of you were in your respective rooms. The curtains to your window open. Faint hues of yellows, oranges, and reds, filled your room.

Your eyes landed on the top shelf of your closet, his jacket resting peacefully. The strong intoxicating scent still clung to you. Every breath you took, you could smell him on clothes and your shirt. Brushing the incoming fantasies away, you buried your face in your pillow and somehow managed to force yourself to sleep.

Waking up to the scent of bacon and eggs were heavenly. The small headache would surely disappear after a hearty and greasy breakfast early in the morning. Arranging your sheets, you fixed your hair and went to the kitchen.

“Good morning to you.” Gei greeted. His back facing you as he flipped the bacon. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah.” You yawned. “Better than most nights. Thanks for crashing, Gei.”

“Always a pleasure, booboo. I also prepped some egg sandwiches for Nao-nao. You are heading to the precinct right?” He glanced at you over his shoulder. A small smile forming on his lips when he saw your half awake half asleep state. The sun’s rays emphasizing the messy strands on your bed hair.

Another knock echoed through your unit. Groaning as to who it could be, you lazily stood up and walked towards the door. Gei peaking in the corner with a suspicion as to who it was. When you opened the door, you frowned and looked at both sides. There was no one.

A small voice cleared their throat. Looking down, you saw a tiny black creature wearing a bird mask. In his hands was an envelope. He kept his word and really did send an invite.

“The boss sent me out to hand this to you.” He tossed the invitation directly at your face. “Better count yourself lucky he’s following your terms.”

“Send him my thanks.”

“Whatever.” He answered as his small feet took him farther away from your door.

Back in your kitchen, Gei had now set the table and laid out the food. He was scrolling on his phone when you sat across from him. Your fingers busy with the square fancy envelope given to you.

“What’s that?” He asked as he put his phone down and began to place food on each of your plates.

“It’s the invitation to that gala he mentioned last night. He sent out one of his workers to hand over this thing.” Your eyes busy scanning over the program details. Taking a look at the envelope, there was a small card. Dropping it on your palm, you saw how it was an RSVP. Flipping it, a small message with neat penmanship told you to call when you would receive it.

Taking your phone from your pocket, you hit dial on the unknown number that had called you yesterday. Gei was all ears as he chewed on his food.

“I take it you received the invitation?” Overhaul immediately asked when he picked up. “I will let you decide as to who your plus one will be. Feel free to call when you’ve chosen.”

“You’re being awfully cooperative, Overhaul.” You commented.

“I lost at the game and I gave you my word. I trust that you will do your end of the bargain as well. If I recall, you stated that this benefits me more than it does to you. Opportunities like this are rare. Might as well take advantage of it while it’s for the taking.” He answered. “Dress appropriately, (Y/N).”

With that he ended the call. Tossing your phone to your couch, you returned the invitation inside the envelope and began eating.

“So…” Gei nudged your leg from under the table. “Who will be your plus one?”

“I’ll have to talk about this with Tsukauchi first. I don’t fully trust him so we’ll be doing some check ups on the people invited to this gala. But, if it soothes you, I plan on using Overhaul. At least his quirk is useful in case something arises.”

“Yeah. Sure~”

----

if you want to be tagged in part 3 :) feel free to leave a comment :)

#overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #overhaul #chisaki kai #bnha overhaul #mha overhaul #bnha chisaki kai #mha chisaki kai #he is garbage but i love him so much #im simpiing hard yall

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softsan · 5 years

Text

NCT MAFIA AU (yuta)

🖇Darkest love, my sweetest nightmare (pt.1)

MASTERLIST

PARTS: | 01 | 02 | 03 |

MAFIA PROFILES | Y/N’S NAMES

GENRE: Mafia AU, Past memories, Angst, Rival Sides

QUOTE: “Yuta had never met someone like you. You bewildered him, he was a killer and bloodthirsty murder. You knew he had a gun, you knew he was partly responsible for night’s slaughter and on top of that, he had pretty much kidnapped you. Yet, here you were curled under blankets in a strange bed, without a flicker of concern.”

WARNINGS: Graphic scenes of violence, Blood, Kidnapping

Past.

Your father’s voice echoed throughout the corridors. You kept your feet steady as you refuse to break eye contact.

“You let a servant go.” He demanded.

You only smiled. You hadn't but you wanted him to believe you did. Your father was a ruthless and domineering man, he ruled everyone with an iron fist. If he had believed a mere servant could escape underneath his nose, he would not rest until he had hunted the poor servant down and placed a bullet between his eyes. However, if he believed that his ‘bratty, good for nothing’ daughter had let the servant go, his rage would turn to you instead.

You were glad that the servant had found a way to escape from this household of hell. How he managed to escape was beyond anything you could imagine, your household was heavily guarded with trained forces, rigged with traps and explosives.

A trickle of jealousy ran through you, you wished it had been you who figured out how to escape.

Your father’s hand showed no mercy as it reigned down, it’s sheer force knocking you to the ground. Your mouth hot, the taste of metal curdling in your throat. You turned to the expensive Persian rug beside your bruised body, spitting out as much blood as you could.

No one came to help you, there are no heroes in this house of horror.

Your father barked for one of the maids to grab a knife from the kitchen. You shut your eyes bracing yourself for the next punishment your father would delightfully inflict.

Your only solace comes from the servant swirling in your thoughts. You had never actually spoken to him before but from your observations, he was an extremely quiet person. Incredibly obedient. He also never stood up for himself, even when the other servants bullied and stole his food.

One time, you had told your maid you didn’t want to eat the sandwiches that she had made you. You lied and told her the bread was stale, she apologized profusely and told you she would throw them away. Instead, you ordered her to feed them to the servant who was sweeping the courtyard, the one you could see from outside your bedroom window. She obliged and you watched from your window as the boy's eyes lit up at the offer off your sandwiches. A few days later, you heard rumors that some of the other servants had beaten the boy black and blue, branding him a thief who had stolen your sandwiches.

At least you will have a second chance at life Yuta. You hoped his freedom would bring him happiness.

You open your eyes again to face your monster, a kitchen knife was in his hands. It came down slicing. You were blinded by red. Blood gushing from your face.

───

Present.

“Yuta get her friend.” Taeyong ordered, “I’ll take her.”

Yuta’s eyes narrowed on who Taeyong was talking about. What was so special about those girls?

Yuta and Winwin had spent the last few months trailing their target. Their target had screwed their organization out of quite a bit of money and Taeyong was out for blood. Things had been coming together nicely and they were ready to take him out. They also had Johnny as backup and their boss Taeyong had decided to come along too.

The target was currently disguised as a college student at a house party, chugging down drinks and getting handsy with the girl on his lap.

Yuta momentarily thought of the pretty girl that their target was supposed to be in a ‘relationship’ with. In the past week, Yuta had seen a lot of you while out observing their target. You would cling to their target, your eyes full of adoration, your smile bright as the sun.

At least when I kill this loser, she’ll never find out he was trying to cheat with anything that had legs.

That's until you came unexpectedly in Yuta’s line of vision.

He admired your confidence, the way you held yourself up so effortlessly. He noticed you were wearing an extremely short, hot pink dress that hugged the curves of your body. You didn’t look like the kind of person who was interested in subtlety, you planned on making a scene. You were also dragging a friend along with you, your eyes set on your cheating boyfriend. Yuta’s target.

“Why? Do you want me to grab her-” But it was too late, Taeyong was already moving towards your friend.

You were heated and furious. How could he do this to you, you stared daggers at your soon to be ex-boyfriend. Your dear friend and roommate Euna had tried to resonate that you had been only dated for a week or so. And in the back of your mind, you knew she was right. But the part of you that was desperate to love somebody normal and live happily as a normal person demanded that this was finally a relationship that had so much potential.

Euna yanked helplessly against your hold. You barely heard her voice over the deafening music roaring from the speakers.

“I see him,” You shouted back at her, pointing to the man who had his face buried in another woman's chest. You pulled Euna with you, dodging the many people bouncing and dancing to the beat.

Yuta sighed, Johnny would start shooting people down soon. He gave a brief nod to Winwin and stealthily manoeuvered past all the people. Taeyong had already caught your friend who had been pushed by a girl pissed that she had bumped into her.

“What the hell did you do to my friend” You shouted over the music.

Yuta managed to slip behind you, firmly covering your mouth with his hand.

“Sorry,” Yuta apologized to the girl, giving one of his best dazzling smiles. “My girlfriend is drunk, she doesn’t know what she is talking about.”

The girl blinked stunned, her anger melting away. “Oh yeah, I understand.”

You felt a stranger's hands claps over your mouth, pulling your head into their chest. His was voice was melodic with a certain sinister cheer. You tried to free yourself from his hold but you quickly noted you were useless under his unusual strength.

“Come with me if you don’t want to die.” His voice purred in your ear. You held back your annoyance and obediently let him walk you out of the front door.

Your body was pushed against his as you walked together, you felt his gun at his waist and another one strapped to the side of his calf. He stopped at the front porch, pushing you against the wooden panels of the house.

He meant to scare you, he wanted you to feel intimidated. He needed you to know he was dangerous. People usually became so easy to control once they thought their life might be in danger.

Your eyes bore into him, your gaze steady. You didn’t look frightened like he expected, just the opposite you seemed to be completely at ease. You might be calm now but you won’t be for long, he told himself.

He held his hand harder against your mouth, leaning into you. He was waiting for something to happen and it wasn’t long until you found out what.

A rain of bullets fired, you felt the wall shake as blinding lights illuminated from the windows. This was a massacre.

The life I wanted to run away from, the blood I wish I could wash away. It had come back to find you, the violence, the mistrust, lies, and betrayal. You had spent years running from your mafia roots, to rebuild a normal life. There is no escape from this. Your father’s voice filled your head.

Yuta returned your gaze, his mind curious what was going through yours. You didn’t panic or try to scream. You just looked… sad?

───

What are you thinking? Yuta asked the question had been burning in his head all evening.

You looked around the motel absently. “Did you really have to come into my life?”

Yuta was taken back by your question. He was rested on a chair opposite the bed which you were sitting on.

He shrugged, “Maybe it’s just fate.”

You scrunch your fists. Fate.

“What are you doing?” Yuta’s eyes widen with surprise.

“Getting some sleep,” You mumbled, fluffing up the stiff motel pillow and tucking yourself under the scrappy covers.

Yuta had never met someone like you. You bewildered him, he was a killer and bloodthirsty murder. You knew he had a gun, you knew he was partly responsible for night’s slaughter, and on top of everything he had pretty much kidnapped you. Yet, here you were curled under blankets in a strange bed, without a flicker of concern.

He spent the next few hours watching over your slumber. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had stayed so carelessly in his company. People feared him. You should fear him but a small part deep inside of him was glad you didn’t.

───

Daylight crept from behind the curtains, you had woken up perhaps half an hour ago? It was hard for you to tell the time without your phone. You paced around the small room, investigating the wardrobes, bedside tables, and the cabinet underneath the bathroom sink. In all honesty, you were bored. After finding nothing of interest, you plotted yourself back at the end of the bed.

Your captor was still sitting upright in his chair. He was lightly dozing, you couldn’t help but smile at the way his head kept tilting to the side and every now and then he would catch himself falling too far and would try to sit upright again.

Without thinking, you wondered closer. He was handsome. Had he been a normal person you would have him dated him in a heartbeat... but he isn’t, you reminded yourself. He was a part of a life you absolutely detested. The sooner you got away from him the better.

His head was beginning to tilt further and further. You laid out your hand gently catching his soft cheek in your pam before he fell face-first into the carpet. Yuta’s eyes immediately opened. You both remained still, shocked at the unexpected moment of intimacy.

You were first to come to your senses, shaking your head and pulling your hand away. The purest smile slowly grew on Yuta’s face as he reached for your hand placing your palm against his face again.

“You should be afraid to touch me.”

He adored your natural hue, peeking out from underneath your fading makeup.

Your mouth opened but no words came out, you didn’t know how to respond.

“If touch me like this, I might just have to make you my girlfriend.” He teased.

You tried to draw your hand back again but his hold on you was unwavering.

“Let go of my hand.”

Yuta shook his head playfully. “Your hand is warm and I’m cold. I’ve been sleeping on this chair the entire night.” He whined.

“You should have just slept on the bed” You muttered under your breath.

He raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t have minded if I slept next to you?”

“That's not what I meant.” You huffed. “You could have just kicked me off the bed and slept there yourself.”

He laughed. His laugh was sweet and welcoming, it made it hard for you to believe all the devastation this man was capable of.

A knock rapped against the motel door, Yuta’s smile was replaced by a disapproving frown.

“Yuta it’s me,” Winwin called from the other side.

Yuta? Your captor's name is Yuta? Your chest began to tighten. He can’t be the same Yuta? Not the servant. But the more that you studied his face the more you saw the resemblances.

Yuta didn't let go of your hand, instead, he laced his fingers with yours before standing up to answer the door.

You were too stunned to protest. Over the years you had thought about the servant boy that you had lied for. You thought about the wonderful new life he would be living, it had given hope for your own miserable existence.

Yuta opened the door ignoring Winwin’s obvious surprise of seeing you there, hand and hand with the man who had kidnapped you.

“Taeyong has ordered to release the girl.”

It was Yuta’s turn to be surprised. “Taeyong never leaves a witness not unless he has leverage against them.”

Winwin shrugged, “Boss is adamant no harm is to come to her or her friend.”

“Euna?” You smiled, snapping out of your trance. “She’s alive?” A sense of relief washed through you.

Winwin nodded. “For now.”

Your smile died.

Yuta turned back to face you. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”

───

“Drop me off here.”

“Are you sure this is your house?” Yuta questioned, he figured you would give him a false address.

“Yes.” You lied, ready to leave from the ridiculously expensive car you were riding in.

Yuta sighed, stopping his car by the sidewalk.

“Y/N”

You turned back shocked by the use of your name.

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“I could never be afraid of you Yuta.” You answered honestly, opening the car door and slowly approaching the house that wasn’t yours.

He could have sworn he felt a thud from his heart, a smirk spreading across his lips. Y/N the brave girl. Oh, how I can’t wait to make you mine.

NETWORKS: @czennienet | @nct-writers | @neoswitchnet

MONI’S NOTE: Mafia Yuta's first installment. I hope you all enjoy it. If you do, please consider reading the other member's parts. They are all a part of the same universe, and you may even notice some cross-over between them.

TAGLIST: If you’d like to be tagged in this fic please send me a message.

#nct #yuta #nct mafia au #nct fanfiction #nct scenarios #yuta fanfiction #nct reactions #nct imagines #nct au #nct 127 #mine #Kpop reactions #Kpop fanfiction #Kpop mafia au #Kpop scnearios #nct fanfic #yuta mafia au

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robinskey · 5 years

Text

Lover (Steve Harrington x Reader)

A/N: GUYS as you’ve probably noticed, I’m incredibly excited about the release of @taylorswift‘s new album. IMO, Lover is one of Taylor’s best songs to-date, and I thought it would fit perfectly with a fluffy, domestic Steve one-shot.

Warnings: Mild language, heavy fluff. Story under the cut.

We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January

This is our place, we make the rules

And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear

Have I known you 20 seconds or 20 years?

It wasn’t until you and Steve moved into your first home together that you realized how deeply in love he was with holiday decorations.

You had started the process of moving your belongings into the new place at the end of September. By mid-October, Steve had begun pestering you about shopping for Christmas decorations. You reminded him that you hadn’t even unpacked the last box yet, and Halloween hadn’t even occurred yet. Steve was persistent that you needed to get the lights up as soon as possible to “maximize the Christmas spirit.”

After a lot of convincing, Steve had finally agreed to wait until November. By then, you figured, he’d forget about it. I mean, this was the guy who couldn’t remember his social security number and occasionally wrote it on his stomach (“because I’m not dumb enough to keep it on, like, my hand, Y/N, where everyone can see it.” When when you suggested he just carry his social security card with him, he told you he didn’t trust himself not to lose it.) Surely, that guy would forget all about it, right?

Wrong. On November 1st, you were nursing a Halloween-candy hangover when Steve dragged you to Goodwill. You returned home with enough decorations to light up a mansion and spent the rest of the afternoon stringing them all around your tiny one-bedroom house. After dinner, you and Steve headed outside. As the sky faded to black, Steve wrapped an arm around your shoulders, and he watched in wonder as your small townhouse transformed into a winter wonderland.

“Look at that, Y/N! We did that,” he said. The various colors of the lights reflected in his eyes as he gazed down at you.

“I didn’t know King Steve Harrington could get so excited over Christmas lights.” Your smooth teasing was foiled by a strong gust of wind that left goosebumps on your arms and caused you to shudder.

“I’m full of surprises,” Steve said as the two of you started back towards the front door. “For example, you probably didn’t know, but I can make the best cup of hot chocolate in the state of Indiana.”

“Oh, really?”

“Oh, yeah. Grandma Harrington taught me her secret recipe.”

Even though you’d known Steve for years, you learned new things about him every day. You wondered if you’d ever run out of things to learn about the boy you’d known all your life.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call

And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you

I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all

Dustin Henderson started referring to your place as “our house” before you guys even moved in. He dropped by several times a week with updates on the newest happenings at Hawkins Middle or questions about how to handle a Suzie situation. At least once a month, Dustin crashed on your couch after a weekend movie night.

On one occasion, you and Steve returned home from a date night to discover half a dozen adolescents gathered around the television in your living room. A curly-haired kid carried around a bag of chips in one hand and waved cheerfully with the other. He flashed his infamous toothy grin, which you met with a half-scowl, half-squint of confusion.

“Dustin? How did you get in here?”

Dustin spoke through a mouthful of Doritos. “My mom dropped us off. And then I used my key.”

Your glare switched targets. This time, you directed it at Steve. He clamped his hand down on his face; you weren’t sure if it was to avoid your gaze or express his frustration.

“Dude, I gave you that key for emergencies only.”

“This was an emergency!” Dustin threw up his hands, sending an army of cheesy corn chips into the atmosphere. After falling back to earth, bright orange triangles wedged themselves into your new white rug. “The season premiere of our favorite show is tonight, and we didn’t have anywhere to watch it.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. Your eyes scanned over the gang sprawled across your couch, armchairs, and carpet. Judging by the boxes of candy and cans of soda littered across the floor, Dustin must have raided your pantry. Apparently, the kitchen wasn’t the only place he infiltrated, since almost your entire linen closet was spread out over the living room. Lucas and Max shared the recliner beside which Dustin was currently standing. Will sat on a pillow with his back against the coffee table, his attention still focused on the television screen. You turned your attention to Mike, who was curled up next to El under a crocheted blanket you’d received from your grandmother.

“Doesn’t your family have a TV, Mike?”

"Yeah, we do, but my mom kicked us out so she could watch a soap opera or some shit. She and Nancy love that crap.”

Nancy.

That name ignited the flame of jealousy in your chest. You knew it was totally irrational; she and Steve hadn’t dated since high school. They’d both moved on-something Nancy did almost instantaneously. Steve had told you the whole saga of their mostly-one-sided relationship, and you were fairly certain Nancy never really loved him.

Still, Nancy was Steve’s first serious girlfriend. She was the first girl-the only girl, other than you-to whom he’d said “I love you” and meant it. Nancy was, and would always be, Steve’s first love. There wasn’t anything you could do to change that.

“Y/N? Hey, babe, you good?”

Steve’s voice jolted you back to reality. You shook your head slightly to clear it, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

You pretended not to notice the way his mouth twitched downward slightly in concern.

“Great. So we can stay?” Dustin interrupted. The hopeful gleam in his eyes was too much to resist.

“I guess,” you sighed, earning a chorus of triumphant “yeah!”s from the kids. “Your show’s probably about over by now, anyway, isn’t it?”

Dustin furrowed his thick brows, as though that was the most blatantly incorrect assumption you could have made. Lucas let you know that “it doesn’t even start for three more hours.”

“Won’t that be, like, midnight? Your parents aren’t going to freak out if you come home at two in the morning?” Steve asked.

“Actually...” Dustin drew out the word until he finally ran out of air. Then, he spoke the next few words in one breath. “We were hoping you’d let us spend the night here?”

You and Steve exchanged glances. Between your schoolwork and Steve’s work schedule, the two of you hadn’t been able to spend as much quality time together. You’d finally both managed to secure a responsibility-free night and a cheesy rom-com to watch while cuddling on the couch. (Steve pretended to hate those movies, but he almost always teared up at least once during the show.)

None of that mattered now, though, because your boyfriend could never say no to his favorite child-or so you thought.

Steve scratched the back of his neck. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye before saying, “Actually, Dustin, tonight’s not the best night for a sleepover. Y/N and I kind of had plans.”

Lucas raised his eyebrows suggestively. “Plans, huh? What kind of plans?” he said, earning a smack on the arm from his girlfriend.

Color rose to your cheeks; Steve picked up a pillow someone had haphazardly tossed on the floor and launched it at Lucas’s head. Instead of hitting its intended target, though, the cushion collided with Max’s face. Ever the hothead, the ginger quickly contorted her neutral expression into a deep frown. She chucked the pillow back toward Steve with tremendous force, along with a few other throw pillows. Only one actually hit Steve. The rest rained down on you.

And, as a mature, homeowning adult battling literal children, you knew there was only one correct response: to hurl each and every one of those pillows right back.

It didn’t take long before the scene devolved into utter chaos. Fluffy rectangles flew across the living room, smacking into bodies or simply into walls. The kids outnumbered you and Steve three-to-one, so you were doomed from the start. However valiant of an effort you two gave, the party still overcame you, burying you and Steve under an avalanche of pillows.

“Clearly, we won this fight,” Dustin said as he loomed over you. Steve had tried to act as your human shield, so he laid beside you on the floor. “I think that means we earned the right to stay.”

“Dustin-“

“No, Steve, it’s okay,” you said, turning towards him. “I know it’s not what we originally planned, but maybe a sleepover with the kids would be fun.”

Steve looked at you with admiration glittering in his chocolate eyes. “Yeah?” he asked softly.

“Yeah.” You shifted a few pillows to get closer to Steve and plant a gentle kiss on his mouth. He smiled as your lips brushed his, and for a moment, you forgot about the gang of gangly tweens in your living room.

Then, a symphony of “ew”s and “aw”s and “can you not”s and “I think it’s sweet”s erupted throughout the room.

Steve shot into an upright position, pointing his finger in the general direction of the sitting area. “Hey, this is my house, and my girlfriend, and if I want to kiss her, I will. And if you dweebs want to stay here to watch your stupid show, you’ll keep your mouths shut.”

“As long as you keep yours shut,” Dustin quipped. “I think I can speak for everyone when I say we’d rather not see you and Y/N sticking your tongues down each other’s throats.”

You tossed the last pillow throw of the night at Dustin but agreed. You and Steve kept the PDA to a minimum that night. They were just kids, after all, and you didn’t want to corrupt them. However, when Nancy came to pick up Mike the next morning and Steve waved to her from the porch, you didn’t hesitate to flounce out the front door in your robe and draw Steve into a passionate kiss.

You just had to make sure Nancy knew what was yours.

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home

You're my, my, my, my lover

Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand

I take this magnetic force-of-a-man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me

And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover

Your favorite part of the day was coming home to your best friend.

Steve more or less memorized your schedule. You arrived home around the same time every evening, so Steve knew when to start listening for the sound of gravel crunching under the wheels of your car. He would then meet you on the porch with a “hello” kiss and a “how was your day, honey?” You always feigned indignance as he took your bags, murmuring something about how weak he must think you are to not be able to carry them two more steps. But, secretly, you spent your entire commute home anticipating the interaction.

This was especially true on the stressful days, the ones you felt would never end. Even though Steve was completely clueless in most situations, he could typically tell when you were in a foul mood. Those were the times he pulled you a little closer to his heart, hugged you a little tighter, loved you a little extra-just in case you needed it.

Today, you really, really did. It had been one of those days where everything seems to go wrong. You couldn’t wait to crawl into bed with Steve and snuggle all your sorrows away.

As you pulled into the driveway, your heart beat faster in anticipation. You watched the front door swing open. It took you a second to realize that the figure standing on the porch wasn’t your boyfriend. Rather, it was a short, stocky kid with a halo of golden curls. If it hadn’t been for the unmistakable hair, you might not have recognized him; you’d never seen him sans ballcap but plus a paisley-print bowtie around his neck and certainly never with dish rag was draped over his arm.

“Hey, Dustin,” you said. When he responded by simply smiling back at you, you asked, “What...what’cha doing here, kid?”

“Hello, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ll be your server for the evening,” he responded without missing a beat.

“My server?”

Dustin bent his head slightly in what he must have considered a sophisticated spin on a nod. “Indeed. Now, if you’ll follow me, ma’am...”

You kicked off your shoes and set down your purse before wandering after your guide down the dimly-lit hall. Something crinkled under your footsteps. You quickly noticed small ovals scattered across the wood floor. As you stepped on one, it felt like silk against your bare feet.

Petals?

You were too busy staring at the flowers scattered across the hall to realize you’d reached your destination. Dustin stopped, and you ran right into his back. You stumbled before regaining your balance and taking a look around the room.

The “server” had escorted you to your own kitchen-a place you were quite familiar with, since Steve couldn’t cook a decent meal to save his life. (To be fair, though, you weren’t much more skilled with the stove, so approximately 90% of your diet was comprised of takeout and peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwiches.) However, you’d never seen the kitchen quite like this.

It was the cleanest it had been since move-in day. Not a dish sat on the counter or even in the sink. The crumbs typically scattered across the floor had been replaced by rose petals. Sparkling white Christmas lights stretched across the room, and Elvis Presley crooned over the record player in the corner of the room. You didn’t even know Steve owned a record player. (As you later discovered, he didn’t. He’d borrowed it from Jonathan Byers.)

In the center of the room, your cheap card table was draped with a lace tablecloth. Wedged between two covered silver platters that looked like they belonged in a castle, a flickering candle cast shadows on the face of the boy sitting beside it. As soon as his eyes fell on you, he scrambled to his feet and over to you.

“Hi,” Steve said, winding his arms around your waist. He sounded breathless, even though he’d literally just walked a few feet.

“Hey.” Your eyes flicked from his slicked-back hair and freshly-shaven face to his crisp button-up and newly-polished shoes. “What’s-um-what’s all this?” you asked, vaguely gesturing around the room.

“Oh, you know.” Steve pressed a quick kiss to your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the table. “I just thought I’d do something special for you tonight.”

"That’s...really sweet.”

Steve scooted your chair in before placing himself back into the seat across from you. Dustin disappeared into your pantry, then returned with a bottle of sparkling grape juice. As you watched the teenager carefully pour a splash into each of your glasses, you asked whether Steve had bribed or tricked him into spending his Friday night playing restaurant.

“This is my full-time job, ma’am. This is how I earn my living,” Dustin answered dutifully before breaking character. “Besides, four of my stupid friends are on a double-date, and Will’s sick, so I had nothing better to do.”

“Way to sell us on the idea that you want to be here, dipshit,” Steve remarked.

“Hey, show our waiter a little respect!” you teased, gently kicking Steve under the table.

“Thank you, Y/N. But, actually, I prefer the term server,” Dustin corrected. He proceeded to produce a notepad from his pocket and read you the specials-or, rather, special, considering there was only one: spaghetti with meatballs. “On our regular menu, we also offer a wonderful noodle dish with a marinara sauce for the same low price as the special-zero dollars.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “So...just spaghetti again?”

Dustin clapped a hand over his heart in mock offense. “Excuse you, madam. It’s spaghetti without meatballs, which is a completely different experience.” Dustin glanced around as though someone might overhear before quietly adding, “Personally, I would recommend the spaghetti with meatballs, unless you want grubby hands digging around in your dish to pull out the meatballs, which may or may not already be incorporated into the pasta.”

You rolled your eyes but laughed nonetheless. “I guess I’ll have the spaghetti with meatballs, then.”

“Excellent choice. And for you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” said Steve.

“Well, you’ve both made this very easy for me. Pardon my reach,” Dustin said, leaning over to pluck the covers off the platters. A heaping hill of noodles, red sauce, and meatballs lay underneath.

Dustin took the lids and disappeared into the living room. You weren’t sure if Dustin was just trying to stay out of the way or if he was going to attempt to wash them in the bathroom sink. It definitely wouldn’t have been the weirdest thing he’d done in your house; once, you and Steve caught him trying to explain morse code to a squirrel in your backyard. That kid was truly an odd duck.

And speaking of weird behavior, you were still seriously questioning what was happening. Steve was a sweetheart, and he did everything in his power to make you happy. This definitely wasn’t the first time he’d surprised you with a thoughtful gesture, but it was probably the most all-out he’d ever gone. The last time he even attempted to cook for you was during senior year of high school, when you first started dating. As an after-school snack, Steve had popped some pizza rolls in the microwave and promptly forgotten about them...until, of course, the kitchen appliance burst into flames.

As strange as it was, you didn’t want to ruin the moment by verbally expressing your curiosities. You simply swirled slightly-soggy spaghetti around your spoon and savored the small talk. Eventually, Dustin reappeared to clear your plates and ask if you wanted dessert.

“What are my options?”

Dustin’s excellent waiter facade faded for a second. He glanced at Steve with wide eyes. His gaze begged for guidance-which Steve failed to provide. He simply squinted at Dustin as if to say, Figure it out for yourself.

The entire ordeal lasted about fifteen seconds. It was too long for Dustin to turn back to you with a tight-lipped smile plastered on his face as though nothing had just happened between them.

“The final course is-the dessert, uh-it’s a surprise.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could have sworn you saw Steve offer a nod of approval.

“Okay...” You drew out the word as your mind jumped to every conclusion possible. “Is it a good surprise? Or is it, like, a somewhat-edible science experiment that might actually poison me?”

“Oh, no, no. It’s a good surprise. You’ll like it. I promise,” Dustin said. “I-uh-I’ll go get it,” he said, then disappeared once more.

“Steve, why did Dustin just head toward the bathroom? I swear, if he made Jell-O in the toilet or something, I’m going to lose it.”

Steve just shrugged. He avoided your gaze, and a few beads of sweat had broken out across his forehead. That pretty much solidified your suspicions that Steve and Dustin were pulling some weird sort of prank on you.

Dustin returned a few minutes later with yet another silver platter. (Seriously, where was he getting these things?) This time, though, there weren’t any noodles on the plate he unveiled. Instead, a small velvet box sat on the metal.

The next few seconds happened in a blur. You recalled Steve rising from his chair and reaching for the box. Then, suddenly, he was on one knee in front of you. The box opened like an oyster. Instead of a pearl, though, its treasure was a glimmering diamond ring.

Tears began clouding your vision before Steve’s lips even parted. As soon as he spotted the water in your eyes, Steve started to get choked up, too. He tried to power through, but his voice became more strained with each syllable.

“Y/N. These past few years with you have been the best of my life, and I never thought...shit." Steve blinked rapidly, attempting to clear away the tears. “I never want to spend my time with-with anyone else-damn it,” he murmured as a drop of water finally escaped his tear duct and rolled down his face. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I had this whole speech prepared, but now I’m a mess-”

You stopped his ranting by placing a gentle palm on his cheek and a kiss on his forehead. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I love you for the whole-ass mess you are.”

Steve leaned into your touch for a moment and whispered, “I love you, too, Y/N.” Then, he straightened up, cleared his throat, and softly asked, “Will you marry me?”

“Of course.”

Steve barely had the patience to slide the ring on your finger with his shaking hands before he picking you up and swinging you around. He kissed all over your face, and your happy tears mixed with his in a joyous saltwater solution.

The kiss fest didn’t end until Steve, caught up in all the excitement, accidentally pressed his lips to your nostrils. The two of you burst into a fit of giggles amplified by the ecstasy of the emotions you were feeling. Your hysteria lasted for several minutes and ended with you and Steve laying on the floor, lungs devoid of oxygen and limbs tangled together.

“Are you guys really that happy, or are you, like, on something?”

You both glanced toward Dustin, whose presence had completely slipped your mind. Luckily, Steve had a response ready. It was cheesy and cliche, but nothing could have fit the situation more perfectly:

“No, dude. We’re just high on life.”

Can I go where you go?

Can we always be this close forever and ever?

And ah, take me out, and take me home (Forever and ever)

You're my, my, my, my

Oh, you're my, my, my, my

Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover

***

Taglist: @novaddictx @anabundance0ffand0ms @rexorangecouny @broadwayandnetflix @explode-a-pult @whormotional @loulouloueh @readinthegarden12 @lacunaclouds

If you want to be added to the tag list for a specific character/my writing in general, leave a reply or send me a message! Thanks again for reading. <3

If you want to check out more of my writing, here’s my masterlist. :)

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angelsofaurora · 4 years

Text

What Are The Odds?(Part 3)

Pairing: Reader x Izzy Stradlin

Word Count: 2096

I’m gonna try and keep the updates coming quicker now, however I cannot promise anything:( Hope you enjoy!

Tags: @slashscowboyboots (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know!)

_______________________________________________

The sun has never been so bright in the morning as it was today. Or at least that’s how it felt when you opened your eyes. As soon as the light stung your eyes, the increasing headache started to form.

“Fuck, I’m never drinking again”, you whined, trying to cover your eyes from the brightness. You let out a small laugh, knowing that’s exactly the words you always tell yourself but yet to this day have failed to keep that promise.

After a few minutes trying to fall back asleep to get rid of the pounding pain in your head, you got up and headed for the kitchen. You desperately needed a glass of water and painkillers. Crossing your small bedroom, you opened the doors to get into the hallway. That’s when you finally started to realize that you don’t actually remember much from the night, except for getting to know a guy named Axl and him introducing you and your friend to his band members. After that the only thing you remember is getting in a car and someone talking to you. It was a guy, that’s what you recalled and he had dark hair, but you couldn’t remember his face for anything. After all, this guy got you home safe and as you also remembered he stayed to make sure you got into bed safe and sound, yet you couldn’t remember his face? Great.

Just as you were popping some pills into your mouth, the phone rang. Was it always that loud?

“Hi?” you answered the phone, hoping the caller could identify your annoyed tone. It was way too early for someone to call. It’s rude, right?

“You hungover bitchhh, you up yet?” your best friend’s voice rang into your ear. Damn, she was such a pain in the ass sometimes.

“Nope.” Finally, you actually checked the time. It was 1 in the afternoon. Oh, well, maybe it wasn’t that early never the less.

“Yeahhh so listen you should get dressed and get your ass here!”

She convinced you to come to the band’s apartment, where she stayed the night with Axl. Not that you really wanted to go but she’d call as many times as it would take to get you there.

One hour, a shower and a few glasses of water later, you were heading towards the address she gave you. Thankfully the weather chose to have mercy on you, as it was cloudy but not cold. Just the perfect weather for a hungover young lady.

Once at the apartment, Steven came and opened the door for you. You remembered his name. Progress.

He led you to the main room or so called, living room, where the guys were sat. The room was not that big, but a light rug and a big window made it seem bigger. On a grey sofa sat Axl and your friend, not really noticing your arrival as they were too busy with each other. On the other end sat Duff, the bassist. Right next to his legs on the floor was a mess of fluffy black curls and the rest of a man’s body. That was the guy who you wanted to fuck yesterday, right? You knew that much, however, his face was also a blur in your memory and him lying on his stomach, facing down, didn’t help you much to remember his face. As you later on found out, it was Slash. Wait, was that the guy who took you home? You really couldn’t bring yourself to ask.

Steven joyfully announced your arrival and all the heads popped at your direction. You awkwardly smiled but thank God, your friend spoke.

“Y/n finally! You do still remember the guys, don’t you?” her sarcastic tone told you that she knew there was no way you’d remember much, judging by how fucked you were.

“Of course she doesn’t, she was fucking pissed,” commented Axl, but not really sounding rude. “Iz literally dragged her to the car so I doubt she even remembers who got her home.”

Bull’s eye. You stood there dumbfounded, not really knowing what to say except for smiling awkwardly. He mentioned Iz? The guy who got you home? You begged whoever was listening to you mentally babbling, that it was not the guy you had a bit of a feud with.

Your questions were answered a few minutes after you sat down on the rug, next to Slash, who was now waking up. Your heart sank, when Duff called: “Yo, Izzy, look who got here on their own!” It was clearly targeting you.

A dark haired guy stepped into the room, and at that very moment when your eyes met you remembered. How could you forget those piercing green eyes?

He kept the stare for a bit longer and then looked away, asking Axl something about their next gig. Wow, he wants to ignore you? You decided it’s gonna be his way. You won’t even bother saying thanks.

The day went on and you and your friend spent it with the guys.

You and Slash got along extremely well and soon he got a bit touchy. Considering the fact that you liked him and that you could use a little distraction from Izzy’s non-stop stare that you could not put a label on as to what it meant, you were quick to accept his invitation to his room. You tried your hardest to ignore Izzy as you and Slash got up and went across the room. But as you were almost out of the door, you caught Izzy’s stare. Your eyes locked and for just a split second you thought you a saw a hint of- what? Disappointment? No, you probably just imagined it.

After your wild evening with Slash, you fell asleep in his bed. You didn’t even know whether (Y/B/F/N) has left or stayed here with Axl. But you honestly didn’t even care.

At around 4 in the morning you woke up to a sound coming from what you guessed the living room. Soon you realized someone was playing guitar.

Many minutes have passed before you decided you won’t be able to fall back asleep, so you carefully removed Slash’s arm from your waist, trying your hardest not to wake him. Slipping your feet to the ground, you put his hand onto now empty space beside him and got out of bed.

You didn’t really want to bug the person that was playing since you were staying at their apartment and you felt you had no right to tell them what to do.

When you passed what you assumed to be Axl’s room, judging by the familiar moans that were coming from the inside, you realized two things. First thing was you were not the only one who got it tonight and the second one you were sure your friend had stayed.

Hearing them made you uncomfortable so you made sure you passed the room as quickly as possible.

The living room was dark but you had now confirmed your theory that the sound was coming from here. Stepping inside as quietly as possible you noticed one of the boys sitting on the floor by the big window, guitar in his hands. Not wanting to let him be aware of your presence, you leaned on the door frame and took in what you were seeing. The moonlight fell so delicately over half of his face, highlighting his black long hair, thin long nose, the cigarette trapped in between his red lips and his sharply sculptured chin. His white button-up shirt sat loose on his torso and he left it unbuttoned so you could make out his chest under the fabric. He still wore the same black jeans you first saw him in. His gentle strums over the guitar and his quiet humming took you over completely. Izzy. You hated to admit it to yourself but the sight made you aware of how beautiful he actually was.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn’t notice that he stopped playing and was now looking at you. He startled you when he spoke in his raspy voice.

“What?” You could hear annoyance in his tone and all the previous admiration for him was gone.

“Could you keep it down for fucks sake, it’s 4 in the morning.” Well... it’s not impolite to ask him to keep it down, right? You did ask... in your own polite way, right?

“Fuck off.” Now his annoyance was pretty straight forward.

You decided it was not really worth it so you got to the kitchen and tried to find a glass. After some struggling and you opening almost every cabinet’s door, you heard shuffling coming towards you. You turned around to face Izzy. Just as you were about to ask he opened the cabinet you were yet to get to and pulled out two glasses. He gave one of them to you and kept the other one for himself. He then turned around and opened the fridge and took out a bottle of Night Train. He poured some into his glass and offered to pour a glass for you too. You just nodded, surprised he even offered it to you. He then left the kitchen with his glass and, what now was apparently his bottle.

Not knowing what to think of his weird behavior you waited in the kitchen for a few minutes. He started playing again, now it was a song you’ve heard before. You walked into the living room and sat down next to him, while trying to be quiet and not bother him.

He eyed you but didn’t comment and he didn’t stop playing. You recognized the song now fully as he began murmuring the singing part.

As the song hit the chorus you started singing along since you really liked this song and you caught onto the words after the second time you’ve heard the chorus at the club the other night.

“I think about you, honey, all the time my heart says yes,

I think about you, deep inside I love you best,

I think about you, you know you’re the one I want,

I think about you, darling, you’re the only one,

I think about you...”

At first he ignored you but soon he was looking at you, his eyes not missing one movement of your face and lips. He stopped playing and now your eyes were locked together, neither of you looking away. You could feel the tension radiating between you and it was becoming overwhelming. What the hell?

“Thank you.” You managed to form the words after looking away.

“For what?” Now Izzy was lighting his cigarette and looking away too, just giving you a confused look as you thanked him.

“For getting me home yesterday.”

He looked surprised when he looked at you. You couldn’t really figure out why he was surprised.

“Oh... yeah, it’s fine.”

After that an awkward silence filled the room but he cut it when he sighed.

“You didn’t strike me as that kind of a girl, (Y/N).” He spoke in a small voice, almost as if he hoped you wouldn’t hear him.

“What do you mean?” You were legit confused as to what he was referring to.

“Well the typical groupie of the Sunset Strip kinda girl.”

You absolutely did not expect to hear that. Did you really come off as that type of a girl? But why should you care? It really wasn’t any of his business at all. It enraged you, who the hell does he think he is?

“What the fuck is your problem Stradlin?” You raised your voice a bit now but hoping the others won’t get woken up by the argument that is about to go down.

“I can fuck whoever I want and that is none of your business!” You were beaming with anger now.

“That’s what they all say.” He scoffed at you.

“But judging by how loud you were I’d say he at least fucked you good, huh?”

For some reason his words hurt you. You felt as if you’ve done something very wrong and now you were being scolded for it.

“Fuck off, you’re a fucking dickhead!”

You got to your feet, not wanting to hear or see him anymore. You were so confused and angry. Your encounters with him were ridiculous to say the least. One moment you’re talking and singing as if you’re best buddies and the next you’re each other’s worst enemies. What the hell is that?

#izzy stradlin #izzy stradlin imagine #izzystradlin series #guns n roses #guns n roses fanfic #izzy stradlin fanfic #what are the odds #part 3 #saje writes #love #fanfic #therocketqueensaje #writer #i love izzy stradlin #he is my baby #steven adler #axl rose #duff mckagan #slash

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auroreswritings · 4 years

Text

Chazuke for day 4! And obviously I had to do a rewrite because that’s just who I am as a person! Reimagining the story, Atsushi meets Chuuya instead of Dazai (but somehow doesn’t end up in the mafia because he’s just too pure and I can’t do that to him!! Chuuya can’t either)). The title is obviously based on the first episode of BSD~

There’s some fluffiness happening, the ending is kinda sad, but it’s like... Not angsty or whatever.

It ended up lot longer than originally planned (over 5,000 words), but I like what the story has become ^^ Hope you’ll like it as well!!

It’s on AO3!

Of the Impredictability and Mutability of Fortune

All he could think about was Chazuke. The sourness of the pickled plums. The saltiness of the slivered nori. The chewiness of the left over chicken from dinner. The fluffiness of the rice. All of it doused in piping-hot water and sprinkled with salted kelp. How much he enjoyed his nightly trips to the kitchen, sneaking about so no one would see him. He had made it some kind of ritual, preparing his bowls in the utmost silence, putting the ingredients in one by one, almost religiously. Atsushi’s mind was fixed on his memories of Chazuke bowls, his mouth watering as the ghosts of the food’s flavors were teasing his taste buds. His stomach produced the loudest growl he’d ever heard, bringing him back to reality.

He was standing in a dark alley in between warehouses, close to the harbor. He had been walking all day, trying desperately to find a bit of food, but none had come his way. If things kept like this, he would end up dying of hunger. He collapsed to the floor; his strength was leaving him slowly. Memories of his time at the orphanage were invading his mind: the yelling, the beating, the incessant humiliations. Screams of “Good-for-nothing!”, “Just die in a ditch!”, “No one will ever want you!” were bouncing around his head. He shook himself violently, erasing the voices slowly. Now that he was out of this place, he had to do his best to live and prove them all wrong!

But what could he do to get his hands on even just the smallest bit of rice to get in his stomach? Should he try to rob someone!? The thought had crossed his mind several times today, but he had shaken it away each time: being in a dire situation didn’t mean he had the rights to go against the law, and the poor person he would take their money from didn’t deserve to be robbed; who knew what they were going through themselves? However, this seemed like the only viable option left for him; he was getting desperate. He looked around but couldn’t spot a single soul. He stood up and walked down the alley, reaching a bigger paved road. He scanned the area in search of a victim. A beggar was sitting with his dog at the corner of a warehouse: definitely not someone Atsushi could get money from. A little farther up the street, two police officers were guarding the entrance to a high security building: that wasn’t an option either.

Atsushi let out a deep sigh and turned around. As he was just about to give up, he spotted a man a few meters away from him. He seemed quite small, was wearing a long black coat and a hat. Maybe he could try getting something out of him. The young man slowly approached the person, trying his hardest not to make a single noise. Just as he arrived behind the dark figure, he reached his hand out, targeting the coat’s left pocket. Before his fingers could caress the fabric, a strong hand grabbed his wrist forcefully and a powerful hit took the air out of his lungs. The man’s knee sent him flying up in the air before he collapsed on the floor, face first in the dirt. As he tried to breathe in again, Atsushi couldn’t help but think that this was it, this was the end.

Chuuya looked at the form lying in front of him. It was a young man with weirdly cut silver hair falling all over his face. He was wearing greyish rags; he almost looked like he had broken out of prison. A groan of pain left the man’s lips, his arms wrapping against his stomach, eyes looking back up at the Mafioso. Chuuya’s breath stopped in his throat: deep pools of purple and gold were fixing him, their shading mimicking the setting sun around them. He blinked a few times, trying to register what he was seeing. The young man was getting back up slowly, supporting his body as best he could on his knees and elbows. He coughed a couple times, eyes looking back at the floor. The disappearance of his gaze brought Chuuya back to reality.

“-Oi, boy, what were you trying to do there?” He tried to sound as annoyed as possible, hopefully hiding the flutter that had taken over his chest. It seemed to have worked as the other man replied with fear laced in his voice:

�� “-I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to attack y-you, it’s just-” Before he could finish his sentence, his stomach emitted yet another loud growl. He let himself collapse on the floor. “hmmmm I’m just so hungry…”

At these words, Chuuya let out a sigh. The deplorable sight of this young man was stirring something in him; he couldn’t really explain the feeling, but he felt the need to help the poor person in front of him. Another sigh left his lips as he stretched out his hand for the silver-haired man to grab.

“-Get up, boy, today’s your lucky day!”

This may have not been a good idea after all. Chuuya was watching the silver-haired man before him munching on his food, bowls after bowls of Chazuke piling up in front of him. It’s not that he lacked money or was tightfisted, Chazuke wasn’t expensive after all, but it looked like the young man was never going to stop shoving bowls down his throat, and as a mafia executive, he couldn’t afford to appear so generous, he had a status to uphold. He took a sip of his green tea, dark glare fixed at the young man in front of him.

“-You said you’re name was Nakajima Atsushi, right?” The younger man nodded.

“-Atshushi, yesh.” His mouth was full of rice. Chuuya closed his eyes, frustration sipping in his veins; how could he be so cute while doing something so disgusting! The Mafioso let out yet another sigh, his grip tightening around his tea cup. The clinging of chopsticks being put down and bowls pushed away called his attention back to the present. Atsushi was reclining on his chair, rubbing his stomach, a look of utter bliss taking over his face. Fourteen bowls were piled in front of him.

“-I’ve had enough Chazuke for the next ten years!” The tone in his voice was the happiest Chuuya had heard since he’d met him a few hours ago. He only hummed in response, not sure if he was amused or annoyed by what the man had just said. “I am really thankful, you know.” The tone in his voice changed, the atmosphere becoming a lot more serious. “Chuuya… you’ve just saved my life.” Their eyes met, both gaze locked into the others, unwavering.

Atsushi started explaining his story: how he had been kick out of the orphanage because of food shortages, how he had roamed around in search for shelter and food, how he had ended near the harbor’s warehouses, almost starved to death, and how he had decided to rob Chuuya in a last effort towards survival. The Mafioso couldn’t help but emphasize with Atsushi’s struggles: he too had a rather harsh life before joining the Port Mafia; he didn’t know his parents and didn’t have much clues on how he’d ended up being experimented on by the government or how he got his ability. Hearing the hardships the young man had to go through were pulling at Chuuya’s heartstrings: he wanted to protect this man, to make sure he wouldn’t have to suffer needlessly again. He couldn’t understand why he was feeling so strongly about this, but seeing the gentle smile on Atsushi’s lips was enough for him to take his decision: he would help this young man no matter what he needed.

After a lot of coaxing and arguing, Atsushi had finally agreed to spend the night at Chuuya’s. He hated to be so dependable on him right now, and he was starting to owe the man a little too much for his liking, but he didn’t have much of a choice: although he had told him about his story, he had left quite a big detail out of his retailing, the tiger. The beast had been chasing after him since the orphanage, and even though he wasn’t too pleased to stay with the red-head for the night, at least it would provide him with shelter away from the beast’s claws and fangs. As they entered Chuuya’s place, Atsushi couldn’t help but let out a yelp. It was a huge apartment, with a window wall on one side overlooking the city. The furniture looked expensive, the rugs even more pricy. The whole place looked so elegant, Atsushi didn’t know what to do with himself.

“-What did you say you’re job was again?

-I didn’t say anything. Now, come here, you can take the spare room close to the kitchen. There’s a bathroom attached to it.” Chuuya pointed at a door at one end of the living room, right next to the open kitchen. “I’ll get you some pajamas, just make yourself comfortable. If you’re hungry, there should be some food in the fridge or cupboards, feel free to have a look around. I have to leave early tomorrow so I probably won’t see you, but you can stay here as long as you need.” The red-head started walking up the stair leading up to the mezzanine.

Atsushi carefully walked to the door Chuuya had showed him and opened it, only passing his head through the small opening. The room was rather big, with large windows on one side. The bed was huge and seemed to be covered with silk sheets. Everything looked as expensive as the rest of the apartment. The young man didn’t know what to feel about this; on one hand he needed a place to stay and Chuuya had kindly offered his spare room, but on the other hand Atsushi felt completely out of place here, all this luxury was too much for him, what if he ended up dirtying something or even worse, breaking one of the ornaments; he would have to repay it one way or another! The weight of a hand on his shoulder made him jump.

“-Here you go, pajamas. Have a good night, Atsushi.” Chuuya shoved the clothes in the young man’s arms and left him standing there, unaware of the internal struggle he was suffering from.

Eventually, Atsushi entered his room; after all he had been through, maybe he deserved to indulge himself little. He would not come across such an opportunity again any time soon, so he just had to make the most of it for as long as it lasted. He took a long, hot shower, the water running down his skin melting away all tensions and stress. He stepped out of the bathroom with reddened skin, the soft glow of joy and sleepiness oozing from his entire being. The fabric of the pajamas was smooth against his skin, and as he slipped in the silky sheets of the bed, he could feel the comfortable hug of sleep surrounding him. He had never felt so satisfied in his entire life.

Chuuya woke up with a start. A quick glance at the clock by his bed told him it was certainly not a time to be awake. He turned around, trying to find a comfortable position when the noise of glass breaking echoed through the whole apartment. He shot out of bed and ran downstairs in nothing but his pajama bottoms. The sight he was met with stopped him halfway through the stairs: the glass coffee table in the living room was shattered, huge gapes were revealing the stuffing of the leather armchairs, the floor lamps were lying on the floor, all cables out, but most surprising of all, a huge white tiger was standing in the middle of his kitchen, rummaging through the cupboards.

Chuuya closed and opened his eyes a few times, trying to make sure this was really happening and he was not still dreaming in his bed. He walked down a couple more stairs. The tiger’s ears moved at the slight sound his feet made, but stayed with his head in the piece of furniture. The Mafioso jumped down the last few stairs remaining, making the tiger turn back for good. The feline recoiled, readying his body for a jump. Chuuya fixed him intently, his body already glowing red from his ability, waiting for the big cat to make his move. They looked into each other’s eyes for a while, and the red-head could swear he had seen this gold and lilac pattern before. The white beast didn’t give him much time to think about it as it pounced on him, all claws out and mouth wide open. Chuuya stood still, only stretching his arm in front of him. His fingers met the tip of the tiger’s nose, and before the animal could close its fangs on him or sink its claws in his skin, a red glow took over its body and slammed it on the floor forcefully. The tiger let out an angry roar: it couldn’t move anymore, intense gravity keeping it glued to the floor.

Chuuya let out a deep breath in relief and looked around to assess the damages, only now realizing the guest room’s door was missing. He ran to it, hoping the young man he had rescued earlier was still alive. He was met with another scene of chaos. The room was completely trashed, bed turned around, mattress destroyed, curtains and bedsheets ripped apart. The rest of the furniture was in the same state of disarray. The red-head looked around, looking for a sign of Atsushi, but found nothing, not even a trace of blood. Could it be…?

He stepped out of the room, coming back to the tiger. The creature was still on the floor, growling menacingly. Chuuya knelt down next to it; grabbing its head and meeting the animal’s furious gaze. Was this why he seemed to have recognized the tiger’s eyes earlier? Was this Atsushi? Chuuya gently called the man’s name. The tiger’s ears moved towards him as if he was setting all his attention on the red-head, his eyes were focused on Chuuya’s; the man could feel something human hiding in them, behind the beast’s anger. He softly patted the animal’s head, whispering Atsushi’s name from time to time, hoping this would calm him down a little. The creature stopped his angry growl, relaxing a little under Chuuya’s touch.

The man hummed to himself, trying to think of a solution. If this was really the young man he decided to help today, why didn’t he say a thing? Could it be that he didn’t know about his condition? He suddenly remembered a conversation he’d overheard at the Port Mafia’s headquarters: Mori had asked Akutagawa to search for a beast, a white tiger that was running havoc on the farmlands nearby; a rich client was ready to pay an extravagant sum of money to get their hands in the animal. Chuuya’s heart tightened in his chest; he couldn’t hand him over to the mafia. He shook his head at the thought: he was part of the mafia, why would he go against orders for someone he’d only met a few hours ago? His hand reached deeper into the tiger’s fur, scratching behind his ears. The beast relaxed more under his touch, letting out a loud purr as Chuuya’s finger were rubbing his head from side to side. He was still maintaining his ability’s grip on the beast, one was never too cautious, but he had diminished the force of attraction pulling him down, giving the tiger a little more freedom in his movements. He ended up resting his head on Chuuya’s lap, and the red-head eventually fell asleep there, his hand on the tiger’s head, forgetting all about the tug of war going on between his mind and his heart.

The sun rays were entering the room through the gaping holes in the curtains, softly shining over the carnage in Chuuya’s apartment. He blinked a few times; his back and legs hurt, he could feel pins and needles in his feet. His hand clutched around something soft and he turned his gaze down, only to realize it was resting in Atsushi’s hair. Said man was lying there sleeping, his head on the Mafioso’s lap. Events of the night came back to him, and it seemed that what he had speculated was true: Atsushi was the white tiger. He tried to move his legs to get some blood back into his feet, which only served to wake the younger man up. He propped himself on one elbow, looking around with a confused look. As his eyes fell on the disaster that was spreading across the room he jumped up, scared gaze frantically searching around.

“-Th-the tiger, it was here, wasn’t it? Where did it go? I have to leave before it finds me and eat me!” He kept on looking around, panicked. Chuuya let out a painful groan and stood up as well. He grabbed the other’s shoulders and shook him lightly.

“-Calm down, Atsushi, the tiger won’t eat you.” The silver-haired man looked at him nervously; he didn’t know if he could believe the man or not.

“-How can you be so sure!?” Chuuya took a deep breath in; he had to break out the news to him, and the faster the better.

-Because you are the tiger!” Atsushi looked at him for a few seconds, not a single expression visible on his face. He suddenly exploded into a nervous laughter, as if he had finally processed the words he’d just been told.

“-Thank you for trying to reassure me, Chuuya, but that’s not possible, that tiger has been chasing me since the orphanage, I would know if-

-Exactly! Don’t you find it weird that it had followed you since then?” Atsushi’s gaze turned to the floor, the gears in his brain visibly working as he was trying to process what was happening.

Chuuya, his hands still on his shoulders, turned him around and pushed him towards the sofa, sitting him on one of the small portions that hadn’t been touched by the tiger. He sat there as well, careful not to fall in the unstuffed hole in the middle of it. He cleared his throat and recounted to Atsushi the events of the previous night: how he had apparently devastated the whole apartment, how Chuuya had found him ransacking his kitchen, how he had managed to take him down. He purposefully left out the part when the Mafioso had ended up petting him to sleep, Atsushi didn’t need to know that. The younger man had his eyes fixed on his hands, a look of horror glued to his face.

“-So… What you’re saying is I’m the one who destroyed your place?” He could already see it, the bill he’d have to pay to reimburse Chuuya. How would he ever be able to gather that much money, he had no idea. The fact that he turned into a tiger at night didn’t seem to have reached his mind yet.

“-If you’re worrying about paying me off, don’t. We have more urgent problems to deal with right now.” Atsushi looked up at him, confusion on his face. “Let’s go out and get some breakfast, okay?”

Chuuya had lent some clothes to Atsushi; he couldn’t let him walk around in the rags he had kept from the orphanage. The young man was now wearing a simple white shirt with black trousers; he had insisted on adding a tie and other accessories to the mix, so he wouldn’t look to unsophisticated next to Chuuya. The red-head had been able to suppress the blush creeping up his cheeks at the comment and had let the tiger look around his drawers in search of anything he liked.

They were now walking around town in search for a place to have breakfast. Chuuya had called Mori to let him know he wouldn’t be able to come in today: a pipe had broken in his apartment and he had to replace most of the furniture there, he had to take care of that today. This excuse, as well as their outing for food, were just pretexts to get away from everything and have a little time to think of his next course of action. He needed to deal with this whole human-tiger problem, and fast. Atsushi’s excited voice brought him out of his reflection.

“-Chuuya, let’s go here, I’ve heard they have the best Chazuke in the area!” The red-head couldn’t help a frown to cross his face.

“-Chazuke again? Didn’t you say you’d had enough for ten years yesterday?

-But that was yesterday!” He grabbed the frowning man’s hand, pulling him towards the restaurant’s entrance. “Come on, let’s go!” Chuuya let out an amused sigh and let the other man pull him inside.

They spent the day out together, exploring the city. Chuuya often found himself staring a little too long at Atsushi, who was always giving a warm smile in return. The Mafioso ended up spoiling the other man a little, indulging him in all kinds of food and drink, even offering to buy him some new clothes, which the tiger had categorically refused: Chuuya was already spending way too much money on him, he couldn’t possibly accept to take any more. The red-head had eventually caved in; he could get some clothes for him another day, when he wasn’t around to scold him. They went back to Chuuya’s place as the sun was falling. The place was still as trashed as it had been in the morning, and reality came crashing back down onto the two men.

Chuuya couldn’t believe he had let himself get so distracted he hadn’t even spared a thought to that situation all day. What was he going to do with the tiger-man? Atsushi, on the other hand, couldn’t help the guilt gnawing at his mind: he couldn’t believe he really was the cause of all this destruction. How could he apologize to Chuuya properly? It was with grim looks on their faces that they went to bed that night; Chuuya insisted on having Atsushi in his room, to keep an eye on him, and the poor tiger could only accept, seeing it as they only way to avoid destroying the apartment more. They were now both upstairs, Chuuya in his own bed, Atsushi cuddled up in a few blankets on the floor.

“-So, Chuuya… You’re an ability user, right?” His voice was soft and sleepy, hardly soaring from under the covers.

“-Yes, I told you so, why?

-Are you part of the Armed Detective Agency?” His tone was sheepish, like a little child’s asking Santa for presents.

“-What? No! Why?” Chuuya couldn’t help the curt tone sipping in his voice.

-Oh nothing, I just thought… since you seemed really powerful, I thought you might be one of the detectives. I heard they would take on jobs even the police or military couldn’t handle, so if you managed to take care of the tiger with just one finger last night, it means you’re strong enough to be one of them…”

Chuuya didn’t know how to react to this: on one hand, Atsushi was complimenting him for his strength, which he couldn’t help but feel flustered about, but on the other hand, he was comparing him to those damn detectives… As if he was comparable to that stupid Dazai! He simply huffed and turned back in his bed.

“-Well, I’m not one of them.” Atsushi hummed in response, dropping the subject at the somewhat irritated tone he could hear in Chuuya’s voice. He fell asleep quickly after, the activities of that day weighing on his limbs, all the food he had eaten weighing on his stomach.

The tiger didn’t wake up that night. The next day, Chuuya had to leave Atsushi alone in his apartment; he couldn’t stay away from the mafia for too long, it’d be suspicious. The young man took this opportunity to clean up the red-head’s place as much as he could, gathering the pieces of glass scattered everywhere, putting away the stuffing of the sofa – he had tried to put it back in but it didn’t fit anymore – and setting the furniture in order as best he could. Of course, because of the damage, he realized most of it had to be changed, but he could at least make the rooms a little less messy, as a way to apologize to Chuuya.

A few more days went by like this, with Chuuya leaving in the morning and coming back at night, and Atsushi cleaning up the apartment; he had even taken upon himself to mend the curtains, a skill he had developed at the orphanage where he would often help the younger kids with holes in their clothes or favorite toys. The two men would eat dinner together, more often than not going out for Chazuke at Atsushi’s special request. The tiger didn’t make an appearance until the fourth night Atsushi had spent at Chuuya’s. Once again, the Mafioso had to use his ability to tame the beast, and once again he spent the night scratching his ears, keeping the tiger calm and purring on his lap. This time however, Chuuya couldn’t fall asleep. His mind was racing, ideas and thoughts bouncing around in his head, each of them contradicting the previous one. As time passed, one idea seemed to keep nudging at his mind more and more often.

The thought had been eating at Chuuya’s mind since Atsushi had first mentioned the Armed Detective Agency: if he wanted to keep him safe, he had to hand him over to them. He couldn’t possibly let the Port Mafia get their hands on him, and as much as he hated to admit it, the ADA was the only organization capable of rivaling with them. He had heard from Mori that the head of the Agency possessed an ability that would help Atsushi with his own, that would enable him to control the tiger inside of him. The more Chuuya thought about it, the more it seemed like the only viable choice he had. He had to make his move the next day; the faster the better.

Once again, Atsushi found himself in a dark alley close to the harbor. This time however, he wasn’t starving, and more importantly, he wasn’t alone. Chuuya had taken him here, saying he would introduce him to someone that could help him. They had taken a lot of detours to get where they were now, hiding from plain sight as much as possible; the tiger didn’t really know why, but the red-head had told him it was necessary, that they had to be careful, and he had trusted him. The sun was setting around them, casting its orange glow all over the city. Everything looked just like the day they had met, hardly a week ago.

As twilight was approaching, a tall silhouette appeared at the end of the street. The shadow walked to them, revealing a middle-aged man in a green kimono. His look was serious, almost stern. He got closer until he was facing the two younger men, eyeing the red-head severely.

“-You have requested a meeting, haven’t you?” Chuuya nodded.

“-Yes, I hope you kept your word and didn’t inform Mori of this.

-I am a man of my word.” The man took a quick glance at Atsushi, who hid a little behind Chuuya. He couldn’t help but feel intimidated by this person. “Is he the one you wanted to talk to me about?” Chuuya nodded once again.

“-He’s an ability user. A powerful one, at that. I want you to take him with you, to make him join your agency. I’m sure he wou-

-Why would I do this for a member of the mafia?” The man cut him unceremoniously. Chuuya cleared his throat. He was obviously annoyed, but had to keep calm, for Atsushi’s sake.

“-You’re gaining a strong ally, and now a mafia executive owes you a favor, I think you are benefiting a lot from this situation.

-And what’s in it for you then?” A frown accompanied those words.

-I just… I just want him to be safe, okay? He’s not the kind to do dirty jobs, and I won’t be able to protect him if he stays with me anyway. Fukuzawa…” Chuuya’s voice broke, but he quickly regained his composure. The tall man could see the distress in the Mafioso’s eyes. “You know what Mori is capable of, and the other ability users under him are no better. Myself included. I’m just trying to keep this kid away from all that. My only condition is that no mention of me helping him is ever made to any member of the mafia, is that clear?” His tone hardened as he said these last words. He knew he was in no position to threaten Fukuzawa, but he felt like a cornered prey under the older man’s strict gaze and he didn’t want to show any weakness in front of him.

Fukuzawa stayed silent for some time, deep in thoughts. Atsushi was still hiding behind the red-head, not sure what was going on. What were they talking about? What were these talks about the mafia? What agency was this man from? And who were these people they both seemed to know? One thing he did understand was that he was in a dangerous situation; he had no idea how he’d ended up there, but now it seemed like there was no escaping it. The taller man turned his gaze to him, locking eyes as if judging if he was worth anything. The tiger kept his head high, eyes unwavering despite the intensity of the man’s gaze. Fukuzawa eventually looked back to Chuuya, nodding his head subtly. The Mafioso understood the message and turned to Atsushi.

“-I think it’s time we say goodbye. Next time we’ll see each other, we’ll probably have to fight.

-Wait, what? I don’t understand-

-Atsushi!” The red-head cut him before he could ask anything. “Promise me you will take care of yourself.” The young man nodded. “Promise me you will fight your hardest to stay alive and safe, no matter what happens.” He nodded again. The concern and hurt in Chuuya’s eyes were unmissable. The red-head’s lips curled into a smile. “Promise me you will eat as much Chazuke as you possibly can, whenever you can.” Atsushi nodded again, letting out a small chuckle.

“-Of course, I will!”

“-Good. Now go, there’s a new family waiting for you.” Chuuya pushed him towards the tall man and turned around, standing straight, his shoulders tensed. He couldn’t help but question his decision. What if Mori was to learn he had betrayed the mafia and given over the man they were looking for to an enemy organization? He shook his head violently. It was too late now, and it was all for the good of this man he had ended up caring so profoundly for, without understanding the reason why.

Fukuzawa took Atsushi with him, walking down the street slowly. The tiger turned around a couple times, hoping to meet Chuuya’s ocean gaze one more time, but the Mafioso was stubbornly keeping his back from him.

The next time they would meet again, they would be fighting each other indeed.

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zayndrivesmeinvain · 5 years

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First Meeting EachOther:

It’s been one hell of a week, finals have just ended and it’s finally starting to warm up. You have been through a lot this semester, from tests to almost failing a class but bringing yourself back up. Things at home haven’t been the best either though. Day in and day out you’d hear the smallest arguments between your parents turn into full blown screaming matches and it’s not healthy. Half way during the semester you decided that you’d start looking for an apartment somewhere reasonable because to hold onto the relationship you have with your parents you’d have to move out. You love your parents both equally but the childhood home you once loved became the house the you hate.

Since the time you started looking for an apartment your parents have begun to resolve their own issues but you are still stuck on the idea to move out and that’s what you were doing today.

It’s a chilly May morning and you’ve started to move some of your things in, the big things like furniture were already brought in by your father and your older brother. When you first told your parents you were moving out they instantly started to blame themselves, which they are part of the problem but you also wanted to live on your own and have some responsibility. Your parents were kind enough to help you out with this apartment for the first year, up until graduation but once you find a full time job it’s all up to you. You knew that this would be a big responsibility but you were up for it. You’re now moving in the smaller stuff such as rugs, clothes, make-up, etc. You were never really sure how you would arrange the space that you call yours now, you thought it would just come to you but it hasn’t yet, with that you decide to start on something small like your bathroom.

When you first looked at this space the bathroom was just all white all around, it looks quite hospital like which did not excite you but your landlord gave you permission to paint any walls as long as you painted them back white once your lease was up. With that being said you decided on a painting the walls a light grey color and decorating it some. You decided on a white and pale yellow accent which you thought complimented the light grey walls perfectly. When you were Target looking for the shower curtain you found the matching bathroom rug and hand towels so you decided to buy them all. Some may say it looks cheesy but you thought it was just practical. The one thing you really did enjoy about this bathroom though was that there was a window overlooking the city below you, at first you thought it was weird but you always liked people watching which you thought would be good while brushing your teeth in the morning. Another added extra you actually really enjoyed was the already inserted medicine cabinet in the wall so that way your stuff had a place in it and you didn’t have anything laid out, you actually hated having anything on your bathroom sink because all you could think about is bacteria and germs getting on your toothbrush.

Walking back out into the open space you call your living you begin to look around at the furniture randomly placed and try to make sense of it all. The reason the place stole your heart is because all how open it is and there aren’t too many walls breaking things apart. When you first walk in from the hallway into the front door you’re met with a smaller hallway where there’s a shelf for shoes and a little coat rack you installed yourself and then 10 feet later your met with all this open space. The living and kitchen are open to each other which is something you always dreamed of. You love not feeling trapped in and being able to see everything, especially when you have company you’re able to cook while entertaining. The bedroom is passed the kitchen into another short hallway which is where your bathroom and laundry cabinet is. This apartment is perfect for you and you couldn’t be happier.

After a few hours you notice that your living room space is coming together. You kept the walls neutral with a light beige which complimented the already there wood flooring. Your big comfy couch placed in the middle of the room to create a square shape with the love seat. Your TV is mounted on the wall with the TV stand underneath which you have hooked up your cable box and gaming system too, you brought some of your favorite movies with you that you had back home just to fill the empty space. The kitchen area was quite easy to set up as the oven and fridge were already here, so all that had to be put away were the new dishes you bought along with all the plates, cups, and silverware. You look at the time on your phone and notice that it’s a little past 9 o’clock and you haven’t eaten an actual meal today, you’ve just been snacking on some chips and soda while you’ve been unpacking.

You don’t have anything spectacular on, just some nike running shorts and an oversized College T-shirt. Your bare face showing through and a bun on top of your head. You love to frequently do your makeup but you don’t have the energy to do so and nor did you really care at this point. Quite Frankly it’s been a very long day for you and you don’t care what you look like at the moment.

You’re almost happy you waited so late to come food shopping because there’s barely anyone here besides a few elderly sipping on their coffee with what it looks like their friends in Starbucks and a few mothers who seemed to have a break from their crying children. You decide not to grab a cart because you were only planning on getting a few things and you know you can handle it all. You’ve grabbed a frozen pizza out from the freezer and make your way down the ice-cream isle. You turn down a few isles and then down some again when you finally make it to your destination until you’re not the only one in that isle.

There’s this handsome of a man just standing in the ice-cream isle reading one of the labels. You take quick notice that he has these grey sweatpants on with a white shirt and a pair of sunglasses in his hair despite the fact that it’s night time. His face is sporting a cute smile as he’s laughing to himself. You try to make your way down to where your select brand of ice-cream is without disturbing him mostly so you don’t put any focus on yourself. You weren’t ashamed of how you looked per say but you weren’t ecstatic about it. However, he did notice you.

“ Am I in the way, love?” His voice was even nicer than you expected. That voice sounded quite familiar though, it took a few seconds but you actually recognized this man, he was famous but you couldn’t let him know that. “ You’re good, thanks.” was all could get out.

You didn’t know it yet but he thought you were gorgeous. He liked the way you looked effortless to him, and how your reading glasses frames your face and how that one peice of hair escaped from your bun and was laying on its on on your back. Most of the girls he surrounds himself with just seem plastic and almost too good to be true but now, he thought you were too good to be true. He admired how you had no shame holding a box of frozen pizza, a six pack of beer and tub of ice-cream on a Friday night. He could tell you were a college student by your shirt and he thought most college students get dressed up and get drunk but she obviously didn’t do that. He was curious about this girl and he wanted to know more.

“ I’m Harry by the way” You giggled at his introduction. You put out your free hand out for a shake, “ I’m Y/N, pleasure to meet ya.” You flashed him a friendly smile, you knew he was harmless but you were also so starstruck. You wondered to yourself what someone like him was doing in such an open and public place, don’t celebrities have assistants that go shopping for them?

“ That’s a lovely name” and that’s all he could get out. He’s been around plenty of beautiful women but for some reason this one has him in a loss for words. “ I like your name too” you couldn’t help to chuckle as you closed the door to the freezer as you grab out the item you were looking for. You begin to walk away but out from the corner of your eye you see him following you. “ I’m sorry, I just think you’re really beautiful and I’m honestly at a lost for words. I’m usually not like this” you can tell he was being genuine because you notice his eyes start to wander and his nose scrunched up. You were a little taken back, a super star like him thinks your name is lovely and also thinks you’re beautiful. You’ve never been one for the boys, you’re not a prude but you also don’t go out every night with a different guy. “ I think you’re funny, but thank you.” You flashed him a polite smile as you make your way to the self checkout line. You swipe your first few items but when you go to grab your ice-cream the tall man standing awkwardly next to you is holding it in his hands. “ Let me pay for this” you think his offer is nice but you can’t let him do that, he owes you nothing, “ You really don’t have to!”.

After a few exchanges and trying to negotiate you finally give in. You pay for your items that you have left and move over making some room for him. You quickly look around to see if there’s any cameras around because you almost feel as though this is all a prank. Why would someone like him be talking to you? He literally could have any girl he wanted but here he was around 10 PM at a local Target paying for your things. After he pays for your ice-cream along with his own he hands you the bag with yours placed in it, he even double bagged in because in his words, the bags are reliable and ice-cream is way to priceless to fall and lose. You thank him again and he even offers to walk you to the car. Normally you wouldn’t find it necessary but to be honest you did park a little far and it was late and dark out, you almost wanted him to walk you to the car. Most of the short walk was in silence, he watched as you placed your shopping bags in the backseat of your car and when you finally thanked him again you got in your car and you watched him walk away. You thought that was the end and this would just be a secret to yourself because who else would believe such a thing, until you notice him jogging back and you roll your window down.

“ You lost, need some directions?” He flashed a bright smile even though it was dark. Did he forget something? Accidently give you the wrong ice-cream?

“ No silly.” He runs his fingers through his hair almost knocking his sunglasses down but quickly catches them from falling. “ If it’s not a bother I would like to give you my number if that’s okay? Maybe we could hangout sometime and eat ice-cream together?” You’re almost shocked at the gesture but there you were handing your phone onto him without even thinking, “ Yeah, I would like that but let me pay this time” You hopped he found that funny and you felt relieved when he flashed you a smile yet again. “ Good, now drive home safely and let me know when you get home, if that’s okay?” You appreciate the small gesture and leave him with a simple nod.

You hoped to meet up with him and really understand who this handsome man really was and what he’s about. He seemed mysterious but yet so simple.

A.N.//: I hope you guys liked this!! I’m going away for a week so I won’t be posting but I’ll be on the app! Please like & reblog if you guys enjoyed and my ask/messages are always open! Thanks so much for the support, I really love and appreciate you all.

#harry styles #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanficition #Zayn malik #louis tomlinson #Niall Horan #liam payne #fics #fanficitions #writings #blurbs #one direction #1d #y/n #y/n fics #2019 writing #zayndrivesmeinvain #zayndrivesmeinvain writings

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hymn2000 · 5 years

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Chiquitita - MCU AU fanfic - C5

Story summary: Something strange is happening. Someone from space has made their way to Earth, armed with a strange weapon. Targeting teenagers, their ray gun, when fired, turns the victim into a toddler. The Avengers set out to stop this, and find a way to reverse the effects. However, they don’t all come out of the battle unscathed.

Previous chapters: 1 2 3 4

Part of my Frostiron and Spiderson series.

Warnings/themes: de-aging, family stuff, corporal punishment (early chapters only), mental health stuff, hurt/comfort

Chapter 5 - Such Sorrow

Peter was very grumpy indeed by the time they got home. Tony was much the same, although for different reasons. Steve, Bruce, and Wanda had left, but that still left Nat, Carol, and Clint hanging about. Clint was in the kitchen.

“Good trip?” he said.

“Expensive” Tony grumbled, shoving all the shopping bags down. “Loki, where do you want all of this?”

“Are you serious?” Loki said, trying to shush Peter. “I’m sure you can work it out yourself”

“Why can’t you help?”

“Are you serious?” Loki said again. “I need to put Peter down for a nap”

“I can take him” Clint offered.

Loki looked at him. “...What?”

“I’ve got three kids; I know how to do nap time” he said. “Back rooms set up, right? I’ll stick him in there. Futon might be a better bet: I don’t wanna be responsible for him if he falls out of bed”

“... Ok. That’s fine. Well, if you’re sure...”

“I am” Clint said, taking the whimpering boy from him. “Hey, little guy. Aw, someone’s tired”

Peter whined, rubbing his eyes and burying his face in his new rocket toy.

“Oh wait, we got him a blanket” Loki said, quickly finding it in one of the bags and discarding the cardboard sleeve. “It might help him”

“Cute” Clint said, taking the little fleecy blanket from him. “Come on then, little guy: lets get you down for your nap”

Loki gave Peter a quick kiss, and then let him go.

“What are you panicking about?”

Loki glared at Tony. “I’m just nervous, ok?”

“Mm. Right, give me a hand with this stuff, ok? I’ll leave the clothes, but we can put the rest of it away”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s gotten you so grumpy all of a sudden? You were ok for a bit while we were out”

“Just tell me where to put this stuff”

Loki sighed heavily, and grabbed the first carrier bag. Tony’s ‘we can do this’ attitude seemed to have completely disappeared.

They finished putting away all of the kitchen stuff, but when Loki tried to start talking about a care routine for their now-toddler, Tony completely blanked him. By the time Clint got back to the kitchen, the two were in one hell of a shouting match.

“Uh, what the hell are you two shouting about?”

“Tony’s being a twat” Loki said.

Carol and Nat came into the kitchen too.

“What’s he saying?”

“He’s just being a twat” Loki snapped. “You can’t act like none of this is happening”

“I’m not acting like none of this is happening!” Tony insisted. “I just don’t know why I have to act like everything is ok. I’ve just lost my son”

“We haven’t lost our son! He’s just small now”

“I never adopted a toddler!”

“Tony, for fucks sake” Nat said. “Calm down”

“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! You don’t understand what this is like! My little boy-”

“Is still your little boy” Carol interrupted.

“You were ok while we were out shopping” Loki said. “I thought you’d started to accept this”

“Well you thought wrong. How the hell am I supposed to accept this?! This is exactly what I feared. How am I supposed to look after a toddler?”

“We’re going to have to get on with it” Loki said. “It’s not easy for any of us, but it-”

“Don’t you dare say it is what it is. Don’t you dare!”

“But it is” Loki said, grabbing Tony by the shoulders. “We didn’t exactly know what we were doing when he first came to live with us full time, and we’d known him for a pretty long time by then. But we still did it, didn’t we? We struggled through together. We might have a younger son now, but we still know him as a person, right? We’ll just have to adapt. We can do it, you and me. Like we always do”

Tony looked at him. He didn’t want to admit that Loki might have a good point. He didn’t want everyone else telling him to just get on with it. He gave Loki a shove.

“Leave me alone. I didn’t sign up for this”

“Yes, you did. He’s still our son”

“I’m not doing this! I can’t look after a tiny kid! I’m gonna call Li Allen, maybe she can-”

“Absolutely not!” Loki shouted. “You can’t just send him away because it’s difficult, you stupid man! You can’t palm him off on someone else; I won’t let you!”

“Why do you have to act so high and mighty about all of this? I want my son back! My fifteen year old son. Why are you ok with this?!”

“I have to be!” Loki growled. “This is hard for the rest of us too; not just you. We just have to get on with it”

“I don’t care! Why can’t you just let me be upset?! Why don’t you do something useful and put the rest of this shopping away while it’s sleeping?”

“It? It? Don’t you dare start treating him badly just because you’re upset, you absolute-”

“I don’t care, and I’m not listening! Fuck off and leave me alone, all of you!” Tony shouted, and stormed out of the room.

Loki growled angrily as Tony left.

“That bastard! I could wring his neck!”

“Maybe we shouldn’t resort to murder” Carol said. “I’ll go and talk to him”

“I’m not getting involved” Nat said.

“Loki, do you want a hand with those clothes?” Clint asked.

Loki looked at him for a moment, and then nodded. He supposed it would be easier with company.

“Parenting is hard” Clint said, sorting through the bags. “I know this whole situation is weird, but Tony will step up”

“He’s a stubborn man” Loki said, finding an empty drawer in Peter’s dresser and a couple of spare storage boxes. “How could you know?”

“At the end of the day, there’s a kid who needs looking after” Clint said. “Tony can’t sulk forever. He’ll need to suck it up and keep being a parent”

“What if he doesn’t? What if he sees me looking after him and thinks he can just step back and do nothing?”

“Don’t give him the option. You’re married; you’re supposed to help each other. Plus, Peter’s his son too. Listen, you’re no fool: you wouldn’t let Tony become a deadbeat”

Loki stopped for a moment, sitting down on the rug opposite Clint.

“If I’m looking after Peter, and if he’s tricky, well, how can I possibly prioritise Tony and getting him to help? Peter’s going to need me more”

“Yeah, maybe. But I’ll bitch at Tony if I need to, and so will everyone else. He’ll step up once he’s over the initial shock”

Loki didn’t respond. They were both quiet for a moment, removing hangers and folding clothes.

“You’ve got loads of things” Clint said. “There’s some cute stuff here”

“Yes. Well, we don’t know how long this is going to take. The reversal, I mean. I thought it better to have too much than not enough”

“Oh yeah, it’s the way to go” Clint said. “Little kids are real big on messy play”

“Oh yes, indeed. At least we don’t have a garden here, so I don’t have to worry about daily grass-stain removal” Loki said. He sighed. “Tony is Peter’s favourite parent; he always has been. He... He put him in his car seat, and got him out again, but that was it. He was in better spirits while we were out. But... Well, where Peter was concerned... He barely spoke to him, outside of the tantrum”

“Oh joy, kiddie tantrum in a big shop, was it?”

“Yes, he kicked off when Tony told him he couldn’t have that rocket. Tony gave in though, just to keep him quiet” Loki sighed. “He’s always been so brilliant with Peter, so in tune with him. It’s like he isn’t even trying now. I mean, he called him ‘it’, for crying out loud! And of course earlier, when I tried to get him to hold him, and he said he didn’t want him. And of course, there’s what he said about Li”

“That’s your social worker, right?” Clint nodded. “He’s just scared. Sure, you’ll probably have to tell her, but it doesn’t really make a difference, right?”

“I’m not prepared for any of this” Loki said. “But I’m not giving up on my little boy. I promised to look after him the moment I invited him into my life. I promised again when we had that custody agreement with May, and again when he came to live with us, and then again when we adopted him. Tony did too. How can he backtrack on that?”

“He can’t” Clint said. “Listen, Tony’s a good dad too. You’ll figure all this out together”

“And before that happens?”

“Like I said earlier, I know we’re not friends, but I’ll still help. I love Peter, I’ve got kids, and I’ve got your number. Or, there’s the internet. I’ll help if you need me too. Anything you want to ask now?”

Loki stopped, stroking the little ears on the teddy bear onesie in his hands.

“Yes, but it might sound thick”

“Go for it: I’m a master at being thick”

Loki laughed slightly. “Two questions. Firstly, what time do you put a three year old to bed?”

“With mine, it was 8pm, sometimes a bit earlier if they were really tired. You start winding them down before though, if you can. Bedtime stories and things like that” Clint said. “Next question?”

“Is he too old for a buggy?”

“No. He might know his feet and be fast and energetic, but he’s still tiny. Buy a buggy. Good if he’s tired, or to keep track of him if you’re out somewhere busy. And if you take him on days out, you’ll need one. They do get tired more when they’re out and about” Clint said. “Any other questions?”

“Not right now... Thank you, by the way. It’s good having someone who understands things”

“No problem. Are you gonna hold that onesie all day?”

“I’m distracted” Loki said, folding it carefully and adding it to one of the piles. “I’ve got a hell of a lot to think about”

“I can only imagine. It’s weird for the rest of us, so what it’s like for you? Well, that’s beyond me”

Loki took a deep breath, and nodded. He looked at all of the clothes they’d folded already. He thought about the little toothbrush and kiddie toiletries, and all the kids tableware in the kitchen. It all felt so unbelievably weird. He had no idea how this was going to work.

Carol nodded at Loki when him and Clint came into the living room after they’d finished sorting the clothes. Nat was beside Carol, and she smiled slightly.

“Tony’s not very happy” she said.

“Yeah, he’s very upset” Carol said. “We did talk a lot. And argue a lot. For quite a while”

“Where is he now?” Loki asked, sitting down on the big armchair.

“He’s in his room. He said he wanted to be left alone” Carol sighed. “I think he wants to sleep”

Loki rested his head in his hand. “I have no idea what to do”

“You’ve done great so far” Nat said. “Just hope Carol’s kicked Tony into shape and he’ll do better later”

“Nat” Clint said quietly. “Check your watch”

Nat did. She sighed and stood up.

“We’ve got to go” she said. “I’ll check back in some time, if that’s ok?”

Loki nodded. “Ok. Peter will like to see you, I’m sure”

Clint went over and gave Loki’s shoulder an awkward squeeze.

“I’ll ring you. In a week or so? See how you’re getting on?”

Loki looked at him. “Thank you. For helping with Peter. And the rest of it”

“No problem” he said. “Good luck”

The sound of the front door closing seemed to suck a lot more noise out of the air. It felt strange, just being with Carol. It was usually a comfortable thing, but now, it just felt heavy.

“How are you feeling?” Carol said, sitting down on the arm of his chair. “Worried? Scared? Lost?”

“Yes, yes, and yes” Loki said. “Oh god, how am I supposed to do this? I can’t be a single parent”

“You’ve looked after Peter alone plenty of times”

“Yeah, big Peter, and with Tony’s constant support, sometimes at long distance, of course. But still... There’s a difference. I know you mean well, but... Oh god, this is such a mess!”

“You’re thinking about the clinic, aren’t you? Just a little bit?”

“I know he’s in shock: I am too” Loki said. “But what if he did this with a baby?”

“It’s a different situation, completely” Carol said. “You’d have been planning for ages for a baby; you’d be ready. This was thrown on you without warning. Tony just needs a bit of time to mope, and then a good kick up the arse, and he’ll be fine. He’s a good dad”

“I know. But he didn’t try this afternoon. I mean, not with Peter. He was good helping choose clothes, but that’s all, really. He was better out, but...”

“They say it’s easier taking babies out, right? Maybe it was the same kinda thing. Or maybe it was the distraction” she put her arms round him, resting her head against his. “You know I love you, and I wouldn’t lie to you. He’ll come round. He just needs a little time”

Loki sighed, breathing in deeply. “Carol... You know what I’m going to say”

“That I smell nice?”

“Yes” Loki said. “But something else, too”

“Stay?”

“Yeah”

“Oh Loki” Carol held him tighter. “I love you, and I love Tony, and little Peter. But I can’t stay. I promised I’d stay until after your mission. It’s after your mission now”

“You said you wanted to hear Peter’s account of it. Can’t you wait till he’s told you?”

“He’s going to be little and without any memories of being big for a while, darling. We both know that. It could be months. You know I have things I need to do elsewhere”

Loki found her hand and held it tight. He shut his eyes, trying hard to stay calm. Carol pressed her lips against Loki’s temple.

“Do you need to cry?”

“Yes”

“Are you going to?”

Loki pulled her onto his lap, holding her close and tight. “Absolutely not”

Carol left far too soon, and Loki nearly did cry when the door closed behind her. But he heard a little voice in the distance, and went off to find Peter, who had woken from his nap.

“Hey, little boy” Loki said, sitting down on the futon. “How are you doing?”

“Where’s other daddy?”

“He’s busy” Loki said. “Right, let’s get you up”

Peter put his blanket round his shoulders, tucked his rocket under his arm, and pushed himself to his feet. Loki smiled, and took Peter’s hand.

“What do you want to do now, darling?”

Peter thought for a moment. “Go for a wee”

“Oh right” Loki said, a little surprised at his answer. “Ok, you come with me”

He led him to the nearest bathroom, pausing outside the door.

“Do you... do you need a hand?”

“I can go by myself” Peter said.

“Ok. Here, let me look after your rocket and blanket for you then” Loki said, taking them from him.

He stayed outside, waiting. He wasn’t entirely sure why he was nervous. The chain went a couple of minutes later, and the bathroom door opened.

“Hi” Loki said. “Did you wash your hands?”

“I can’t reach the sink”

“Ah. Right, come here then”

Loki took him back into the bathroom and held him up so he could reach to wash his hands.

“Good boy. I know, this sink is kind of high. We’ll get a little step for you to stand on in here” Loki said, setting the boy back on his feet and handing him a towel. “Here, dry your hands”

Once Peter had done so, Loki gave him his rocket back, and wrapped his blanket round his shoulders.

“There” he said. “Now what do you want to do?”

“I want to see daddy”

“You can’t right now, darling” Loki said, his heart near enough breaking. “Why don’t we go and watch a DVD for a bit instead. Would you like that?”

“I want daddy. Is he asleep?”

“Yes” Loki said, deciding it was the best way to respond. “You can see him later. So. DVD?”

Peter looked at him. “Which one?”

“Well” Loki thought for a moment, remembering that the people hit with Kindsprengen’s gun remembered things they liked. “What do you want to watch? One of my funny old DVDs?”

Peter went quiet, thinking, and then started singing. “Underground, overground, wombling free! The Wombles of Wimbledon, common are we”

“Making good use of the things that we find, things that the everyday folks leave behind” Loki finished for him. “The Wombles, then?”

“No. I wanna watch Mr Benn!” Peter said, and then collapsed into giggles.

Loki couldn’t help laughing too. “Were you trying to trick me, little boy?”

Peter just laughed more, almost bent double. Loki laughed more too, scooping the boy up into his arms and cuddling him close.

“Mr Benn it is, then” Loki said. “Let’s go and get you settled”

Peter lay on the floor making what Loki assumed were rocket noises while the DVD was being set up.

“Where’s mumma?” he asked, in between sound effects.

“She’s had to go. Work” Loki said. “But she’s left you some more lollies”

Loki stopped, thinking for a moment. He hadn’t seen the lollies: Carol had just said she’d put them in the cupboard. He looked at Peter, and he wasn’t sure whether or not it was a good idea. He didn’t want him choking. What if it was those lollies with the paper sticks where the sweets often came off quickly?

“Peter, sweetheart” Loki said, pressing play on the DVD. “Stay here. I’ll just be a minute”

Peter seemed happy enough where he was, so Loki nipped to the kitchen and looked in Peter’s cupboard. He was relieved to see that Carol had brought Peter’s current favourite; Juicy Drop Pops. They were on more of a base than a stick, and definitely looked much safer. Loki thought he might be overreacting, but he wanted to be safe. But then he started to wonder if sour things were ok for little kids. Maybe it would be personal preference. These sweets weren’t really that sour, but maybe little Peter wouldn’t like them anywhere near as much as the Peter that had started the day. God, that felt weird to think about. Loki checked his watch, and it was nearly 5.30pm. Seven hours ago, they still had big Peter. Time was playing tricks on him, he was sure of it. He closed the cupboard and went back to the living room.

Little Peter was sat on the rug in front of the telly, watching the DVD. Loki watched him, wondering what was going through his head. He knew who everyone was, and he seemed to know where he was, and what he liked, and he looked comfortable, but did he have any actual memory memories? Maybe he was too absorbed in the day he was living to really think about it. Maybe he had semi-memories. He obviously remembered seeing this DVD. It was all very strange. Little Peter recognised Loki and Tony as his parents, which was a relief, but it did make Loki wonder. When Peter was originally three years old, he’d had his biological parents. May (and even Peter himself) had always said that he didn’t really remember them, but he obviously had no inkling of any other parentage as he was now. But even that thought raised another question: would he remember May? Loki looked at one of the pictures on the wall. It was strange, looking at himself, Tony, and May, and regular Peter, when he had tiny Peter in front of him. He pulled out his phone, finding an old picture of himself and May. He sat down beside Peter on the floor, and showed him his phone.

“Do you know who this is?” he asked.

Peter looked at the picture. He didn’t seem too interested, or show much emotional at all to it. “It’s you”

“Yes. And who am I with?”

“A lady”

Loki swallowed. He looked at the picture, sighed, and closed his phone. Well, it answered one question, anyway. He sighed again, and gave Peter a quick kiss on the cheek.

“Stay there, chick: I’ll just be a minute”

Tony didn’t want to talk to Loki. He didn’t want to leave his room, he didn’t want to see Peter, and he didn’t want to eat. Loki left his room in a huff, wondering why he’d even bothered when he already knew what the answer would be. He tried to stop being cross when he rejoined Peter.

“Darling, we need to think about getting you fed now” he said.

Peter didn’t say anything. He was still busy watching the telly. Loki sat down, remote in hand. He waited until the episode finished, and then paused the DVD. Peter frowned, and then turned round, looking at Loki.

“It’s stopped” he said.

“Yes. It’s time for us to sort dinner” Loki said. “Why don’t you come through to the kitchen with me, and we’ll see what we can find?”

“What about my rocket?”

“Your rocket can come too” Loki said, standing up. “Are you coming?”

“Yes yes, wait!” Peter jumped up, leaving his blanket behind, and trotted after Loki.

Loki hit a mental block as soon as he got into the kitchen. Breakfast and lunch ideas came easily to him, but as he tried to think of what a three year old might accept for tea, he hit a wall. He couldn’t for the life of him think of anything. Surely this shouldn’t be so hard? He looked at Peter, who was jumping between the chequerboard tiles of the kitchen floor.

“What do you want for tea, sweetheart?”

“Something yummy”

His answer wasn’t exactly helpful. Loki didn’t know what he’d expected, but he needed an idea from somewhere.

“How hungry are you?” he asked, opening one of the kitchen cupboards.

“For food”

“I think you’ve misunderstood my question” Loki said. “Are you a little bit hungry, or are you quite hungry, or are you very hungry?”

Peter just shrugged, far more interested in his little jumping game than his dads silly questions. Loki bit his lip, starting to feel sick and shaky all over again. He closed the cupboard and got out his phone. He hesitated for a moment, annoyed at himself, before giving in and googling; ‘evening meal ideas for toddlers’.

Well, even that was more complicated that he expected. Surely toddlers wouldn’t really want breaded broccoli or black bean quesadillas or courgette chips? In fact, most adults wouldn’t want to eat that, he was sure of it. And this blog was seriously suggesting houmous? For a toddler? And for a full meal? Lentil soup? What? Was this seriously what people fed toddlers? It sounded more like the menu for a vegan cafe. Besides, he didn’t have hours to prepare and cook, and he was certain most of the ingredients for these little ideas would not be found in the Stark family kitchen.

He looked at Peter, who was mercifully still playing happily. He clicked on the next web page, and was met with more seemingly ridiculous suggestions: pea and shrimp risotto, split pea and spinach dhal, lamb tagine, salmon pesto tray bake.. Loki quickly shut his phone. That was unbelievable. He very nearly started to doubt his lunch and breakfast ideas, but quickly told himself that everyone on the internet was a pretentious prick and there was nothing wrong with jam sandwiches and porridge with brown sugar and cream. He sighed heavily, watching Peter for a few minutes.

“Give us a clue, chicken”

Peter barely glanced at him. He was far too busy to listen to Loki. Loki sighed, and got his phone out again, deciding one more website couldn’t hurt.

Five websites later, and Loki still had no idea what to feed Peter. He did, however, have a newfound hatred for internet parents with blogs.

“This might actually be the worst thing that’s ever happened to me” Loki said. “I now fully understand those parents who just feed their kids oven chips every night. I don’t agree, but I understand”

Peter stopped what he was doing, and looked up at Loki, puzzled by his words. He wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Loki looked down at him.

“Everything ok?”

Peter looked at him a moment longer, shrugged, and then went back to jumping on the tiles. Loki looked back at the website still open on his phone, resisting the urge to lie down on the floor and have an existential crisis about butternut squash tagines and apricot couscous. He closed the internet and opened up his contacts, scrolling until he found; ‘That Avengers Twat With The Bow And Arrow’. His thumb hovered over the contact. It was incredible, firstly, that the thought of ringing Clint Barton of all people was crossing his mind. He’d said he’d help, but then Loki wondered what he’d think if the first phone call was; ‘help I have no idea what to feed a toddler for tea even though I had a go at Tony for not knowing what to give him for lunch’. He sighed, and closed his phone, putting it down at a safe distance. He felt like a right pillock. An actual God, wonderful as he was, being utterly defeated by toddler tea time. Sure, it was probably just the stress, but justifying it didn’t exactly help.

He opened the fridge and stood staring into it, as though doing so would spark an idea. He was still blank, looking at what they had. He furrowed his brow, thinking deeply, until he felt something tugging at his trouser leg. He looked down at the little boy at his feet.

“Hello” he said.

“I’m hungry” Peter said. “I’m ready for tea now”

Loki wanted to go and grab Tony by the ear and drag him in here to help, but somehow he didn’t think doing so would have the desired effect. Instead he just closed the fridge, and lifted Peter into his arms.

“What do you want to eat, darling?” he tried.

“Cheesy pasta”

As soon as he said it, Loki wanted to punch himself directly in the nose for being such a hopeless fool. Macaroni cheese, of course. What a stupidly simple, quick, obvious choice. He was a twat. That was it, there was no other word for it. He was a twat. But of course he didn’t say that.

“Of course, darling. Now, can you be a good boy for me while I’m cooking?”

“I think so”

Loki smiled and kissed him on the nose before putting him down. Crisis averted.

Luckily Loki knew a good macaroni cheese recipe off by heart and could get on quickly. He made enough for three just in case Tony changed his mind in the middle of the night. Mercifully he had the right ingredients. He set up a place for himself at the table, with Peter’s new kiddie tableware in place for him opposite. He tried to figure out what kind of bedtime routine he should try while he cooked. Peter got a little whiny and restless while he was waiting, so Loki gave him a slice of cheese to keep him going. Loki could’ve sworn time slowed down while he cooked that meal. It felt like an eternity before it was ready. Even then, he had to wait a little longer, going slow while he got himself and Peter a drink so that the food had a little time to cool. He didn’t want Peter burning his little mouth.

He felt exhausted by the time he plonked Peter down on his usual seat at the breakfast bar.

“Sorry it took so long, chick”

Peter just nodded, setting his rocket on the stool next to him. He looked at his plate and matching cutlery and his sippy cup of juice.

“Do you need help?” Loki asked.

Peter shook his head, picked up his fork, and started to eat. Loki almost fainted with relief. He was terrified he’d not be able to do it alone, or worse, that he’d reject it. But he was eating happily, and confidently, putting his fork down every so often so he could pick up his sippy cup for a drink. Loki realised how little he actually knew about toddlers, but he pushed down all his reservations and focused on eating his own plateful. This was all very scary, but seeing little Peter doing things for himself, and having been able to trust him alone for a couple of minutes, was a big relief. It was going to be really hard, especially at first, he knew that. He kept looking over at the kitchen doors, wishing that Tony would appear and join them. The doorways stayed depressingly empty.

Loki let Peter have a little runaround in the kitchen again while he washed up and tidied the kitchen. It was already nearly half seven by the time he’d finished. Clint had recommended Peter be in bed by eight, and as the man of experience, Loki trusted that recommendation. He knew kids were supposed to wind down before bed, and he was very familiar with the process. But doing it on his sabbatical was different: those children all had pre-established routines. Peter had no routine. Well, big Peter did: after tea he’d watch telly and play on his laptop and listen to music, and then he’d go to his room and shut his laptop down and pack his school bag and then he’d get settled and go to sleep. That wasn’t really going to be a viable option for a three year old.

Peter still seemed full of energy. He was still jumping about, making rocket noises and spinning around and babbling to himself. He didn’t seem tired at all. Loki was conscious of the time, and after a few minutes, he grabbed him.

“Ok, that’s enough play for now”

“Nooo, I’m still playing!” Peter whined.

“Ok, we’ve got a different game to play” Loki said. “It’s the getting-ready-for-bed game”

“That doesn’t sound like a good game” Peter said, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t want to play it”

“But if we play this game now, you get to use some of your new things”

Peter shook his head. “Nope”

He wriggled away and started running about with his rocket again. Loki bit his thumb.

“Uh. Peter, darling, it’s bedtime”

“Well, I don’t want to go to bed”

“But I want-” Loki stopped. “But your rocket wants to go to bed”

Peter stopped, looking at his rocket. “Rockets don’t get tired”

Loki sighed, scooping the boy up into his arms. “It’s bedtime”

Peter squawked and struggled. “No! No! I don’t want to go to bed!”

“Tough” Loki said firmly. “We’re going to bed, now”

Peter wouldn’t calm down. He shrieked and struggled while Loki took him to his room and into the en suite. Loki put him down, and he tried to run. Loki stopped him easily enough.

“Peter, you need to stop squeaking now”

“I DON’T WANT TO GO TO BED!”

“I know”

“WHY MAKE ME??”

“Peter, listen: we’re not going to bed yet”

Peter stopped shrieking. “...What?”

“We’re not going to bed yet” Loki said. He took a deep breath. He knew he had to tread carefully. “We’re going to get you clean”

“Why?”

“Because that’s what we do before bed. We’re going to wash your face and brush your teeth, and then we’re going to get you into... into your nightclothes” Loki said. “Ok?”

Peter looked at him, and at his rocket. He made a little whiny sound, shifting on his feet.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” Loki asked gently. “Do you need the toilet again?”

Peter shook his head. “...My rocket”

“Oh, you don’t want rocket getting all wet, is that it?”

Peter nodded.

“That’s ok, darling. Here, why don’t we put rocket up here?” he carefully took the toy and put it on the empty soap dish. “There, rocket is on its launch pad, perfectly safe”

“What do we do now?”

“We brush your teeth” Loki said, sorting his new toothbrush and kiddie toothpaste. “Can you do it yourself?”

“I think so”

“Ok, here you go then” Loki said, handing him the toothbrush.

Peter took it from him and put it in his mouth, holding it with both hands. Loki was happy with the little boys efforts, and thought he did a pretty good job. He helped him finish off, and let him rinse his mouth.

“Good boy”

“What now?”

“Now, I’m going to wet your new flannel and then we’ll wash your little face” Loki said, running warm water over the flannel and wringing it out. “Ok, sweetheart, hold still for me”

Peter squirmed a little, but he didn’t whine while he had his face washed.

“What a good boy you are” Loki said, patting Peter’s face dry. “There now. Shall we go and find you something to change into?”

Peter nodded. “Ok. Can I have my rocket back?”

“Of course” Loki took the rocket toy from the soap dish and gave it back to him.

He took him back to the bedroom and had a little look through the pyjamas they’d bought that day. He didn’t want him to overheat, but he also worried he wouldn’t be warm enough. He finally selected a little set with dark blue trousers and light blue top patterned with stars.

“Ok, sweetheart, let’s get you changed. Put your rocket down, please”

Peter did as he was told. He stayed quiet while Loki took his t-shirt off and said ‘skin a rabbit’, and got him out of his clothes and into his pyjamas.

“There we are. Very cute” Loki checked his watch, sucking his breath when he saw the time. “Ok darling let’s-”

“Can I go play now?”

“No, darling. It’s late. It’s time to go to bed”

“I don’t want to!”

“How about we read a story? Why don’t you choose a little book from your shelf, and I’ll read it to you”

Peter shook his head. Loki sighed, picking up one of the books that was still by the bed. He scooped Peter up and plonked him down on the bed.

“HEY!”

“Hey yourself” Loki said, settling down on the bed and pulling the boy close. “No, don’t get up. You just cuddle up against me, darling”

“Why?!”

“Because how else will you get to know about The Tale of Jemima Puddle-Duck?”

Peter gave him a funny look, and then looked at the book in his hands. Loki opened the book, and begun to read.

“What a funny sight it is to see a brood of ducklings with a hen!—Listen to the story of Jemima Puddle-duck, who was annoyed because the farmer's wife would not let her hatch her own eggs”

Peter settled down, rubbing his nose against the soft material of his rocket, looking intently at the pictures and listening to Loki’s voice. He soon went still and quiet, perfectly relaxed and sleepy.

Little Peter was fast asleep long before the story was finished. Loki put the book down and very carefully got up, keeping the boy in his arms. He pulled the covers back and set him down in the centre of the bed, biting his lip and praying he’d stay awake. He tucked his new toy rocket under his arm. He paused, and then tucked his old Peter Rabbit toy under his other arm. Then, remember what he’d said to Tony earlier, went and fetched a clean towel, which he slipped underneath the boy. He tucked him in, smoothing the covers over him and switching the night light on.

He stood looking at him for a minute or two. He just looked so unbelievably tiny. Loki often thought Peter looked tiny, but this toddler truly was. He swallowed hard, watching the rise and fall of the little boys chest, automatically counting his respiration rate. He felt sick. But this little boy was still his son, and he still needed to look after him. And above all, he still loved him. He kissed him gently on the forehead, stroking his temple gently with his thumb as he did so.

“Goodnight, little boy. I love you” he said quietly. “See you in the morning”

He turned the main light off, and closed the door behind him.

Loki turned the television off and sat on the armchair nursing a mug of tea. He scrolled up and down his contacts on his phone. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt like talking to Tony wasn’t an option, and he wasn’t sure who he wanted to talk to in his absence. He looked at his phone, pausing at ‘May’. He still couldn’t bring himself to delete her number. She was always his second choice back when she was alive. She would have been wonderfully useful now, but of course that wasn’t an option. He kept thinking of who else he wanted to talk to. Carol, definitely. But she was unavailable now. He might even consider Thor, but he was off-world now too. There was his colleagues at the hospital, many of which he considered close friends. But none of them were really the right person. They weren’t really involved in his world aside of the hospital and celebrity gossip magazines. Loki sighed, scrolling further, pressing the call button. It was answered within the first few rings.

“Hello?”

“Pepper, hi. It’s Loki. Listen, something happened today. I need to talk to you”

Pepper already knew. She’d seen the papers, and Tony had been in touch with the real story. Even so, talking to her about the day helped. He didn’t feel quite so wound up for a while after getting off the phone. He had another drink and locked the front door. He was exhausted, so went into lazy mode and called on FRIDAY to do the rest of shut-down before going to his room.

He looked at all the pictures on the walls: his Snoopy prints, a collage frame of photos from the honeymoon, another collage frame of holiday photos, the big photo of all four of them; himself, Tony, May, and Peter. He looked at his snow globe collection, and his other little trinkets; holiday souvenirs and little statues and things Peter had given him. He sat on the bed, stroking the silk covers. He looked at the toy snake Peter had made him after he’d first started at St Hendricks, wound round the bedpost, staring at him with its funny button eyes.

Loki picked up the photo frame that sat on his bedside table. He had the same photo on the inside of his locker at the hospital. It was of Tony leant against a tree, with Peter hanging upside down on the the branch. Peter had popped down unexpectedly, catching Tony by surprise, and they were laughing at each other. Tony had that oh-so-familiar funny, loving look in his eyes. He loved Peter with all his heart, Loki knew that. They looked so happy. That was the way they should be.

Loki stared at it until his eyes blurred. He put it back face-down on the bedside table, unable to bear seeing it any longer. The people in that photo weren’t the ones in this house right now. His funny, silly, sweet and cute little son was maybe still all of these things, but he was a tiny toddler, not a teenager. His loving, happy, funny and paternal husband seemed to have been replaced with some sort of lookalike. He didn’t know what to do.

‘Shut up, Loki’ he told himself. ‘You’ve held it in all day, don’t fail now’.

But it wasn’t as easy as that. The more he concentrated on staying calm, the harder it seemed to be. He couldn’t hold it in any longer. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He didn’t know if he’d be able to do this, especially not alone. He didn’t know if this could work. He didn’t know anything anymore. And he felt so alone. He was so used to having a bubbly teenage son jumping about and a dependable - if a little reckless - husband he could crawl into bed with. He remembered saying they couldn’t really call Kindsprengen’s ray gun a weapon. He took that back now. He’d completely underestimated the effects this could have. He couldn’t believe this had happened. He just couldn’t.

He covered his mouth with both hands and sobbed. He felt so sick, so hopeless, so clueless. There was nothing he could do to fix this. All he could do was sit and cry, and hope that things would be different in the morning.

#my writing #fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #frostiron #irondad and spiderson

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dawnjeman · 5 years

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New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

Hello, my wonderful friends! How are you in 2019? Did anything happen? Did a switch turn on, bringing more Light into your heart during this first week of this New Year? It’s been terribly cold, gloomy and dark out there. The weather is miserable and it’s easy to feel the winter blues insistently knocking on my door, but I am not opening it… instead, I decided to take a small break during the Holidays to do what I love the most in life; which is spending time with my family and work whenever I feel inspired. I took a small break and I am finally feeling like myself again… nothing makes you feel more centered than being able to slow down and hear your own thoughts, and that was exactly what I did.

During this New Year, I certainly hope to continue to listen to what’s inside of my heart and that goes to what I want to share with you here on Home Bunch. I have to be completely honest with you guys. I am tired of cold homes, everything looks the same these days. Although I will always bring the latest trends to my readers, one of my main goals this year is to share homes that feel more like real homes, homes that have character and feel loved, and that starts with this year’s first “Beautiful Homes of Instagram”. Please, get to know Erin from The Heart and Haven. She’s someone that will inspire you to transform your current home into your “home-sweet-home”!

Hi, my name is Erin @theheartandhaven and I’m a home renovator, home décor enthusiast and mother. I have always enjoyed staring at all the pretty things, but I never realized how much joy I would find in creating them until my husband and I bought a 1950s fixer upper about five years ago.

My husband and I are high school sweethearts from the Jersey Shore. We dated long-distance throughout college and upon graduation, we decided to move across the country to start our life together in Los Angeles. I worked in television before deciding to become a stay at home mom when I had my first son. I now have two boys, ages 7 and 4.

After getting married, we purchased a newly-built, builder-grade condo in Los Angeles and while the finishes were not exactly my taste, I was excited to just have a place to call our own and honestly never thought about changing anything. Two years after having my son and really craving some private outdoor space to have him run around, we searched our neighborhood to find a house. We found a corner house only a few blocks away on a beautiful, wide tree-lined street. It was custom built in 1950, and nothing had been updated since then. The house was head- to-toe covered in orange wood (floors, ceilings, walls, you name it!). The bathrooms had parquet linoleum, the staircase had scrolling wrought iron and each room had ceiling fixtures hanging so low that it made the 8 ft. ceilings feel much smaller. Having no reno experience under my belt, I still felt that this 2400 sq. ft. house had potential. Thus began our renovation journey, and we lived through all of it! I don’t think I knew what my style was when we started renovating our home and decisions often had to be made quickly. There are some things I would change, but I have learned so much throughout this process. And five years later, I think I have found my casually modern, beachy-boho style through decorating it , and it has truly become a passion of mine.

New Year, New Beautiful Homes of Instagram

Our kitchen was the last major renovation. After living in what felt like a wooden cave, I wanted our new kitchen to be light and bright. We took down the wall that separated the kitchen from our playroom to open it up. I had always wanted an island but, due to building codes, the island would have been very small. So, I adjusted my vision and was able to have the counter space and seating area by making it into a peninsula instead.

Peninsula measures 6 ft x 4.5 ft. and counters are Salt White Marble.

Paint Color: Valspar Mountain Mist.

Kettle: Crate & Barrel.

“Let’s Stay Home” sign: Here.

Runner & Flooring

This pink kitchen runner is one of the cheeriest pieces of home décor I own. I paired it with the wallpaper to make our kitchen more playful.

Runner: Here.

Flooring: Wickham Hardwood, Maple (color Walnut) – similar here, here & here.

Cabinet Paint Color

Kitchen cabinets are Maple, painted Benjamin Moore White.

Canisters: West Elm.

Backsplash is Daltile Subway Tile, 3×6 in Arctic White – similar here.

Appliances: Thermador Range, GE Café Series Refrigerator.

Marble Clock: Sur la Table.

Cabinet Cup Pulls: Hickory Hardware.

Sink & Faucet

While it might not be the most picturesque faucet, I love how we can turn the faucet on and off without dripping on our marble counters. Definitely a functional win!

Kitchen Faucet: Faucet, Moen Motionsense Chrome.

Kitchen Sink: 33” Farmhouse Fireclay Sink.

Kitchen Towel: Kate Spade.

Lighting & Barstools

When choosing the pendants over our peninsula, I didn’t want to compete with the chandelier in the nook. These cone pendants with their antique brass interior echoed the glam of the chandelier without overwhelming the space.

Barstools: Serena & Lily.

Lighting: Visual Comfort – 15 Inch Wide.

Utensil Holder: West Elm.

Breakfast Nook

I loved the idea of a breakfast nook and wanted to make it feel special, so I went with wallpaper and a statement chandelier. I think the wallpaper adds so much personality to this otherwise all white kitchen. I then paired it with a more rustic feeling table and chairs to contrast the crisp, geometric design.

Table is RH – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Chairs are RH – similar here & here.

Pillows: here, here, here, here, here & here.

Chandelier & Wallpaper

Wallpaper is from Serena & Lily in Denim.

Chandelier is Visual Comfort.

Playroom

After taking down the wall between the kitchen and the playroom, this is now our view. Since this is the room my sons hang out in the most, it had to be functional for them but also flow with our kitchen.

Sofa is from HD Buttercup

Window Treatment throughout home are plantation shutters by American Vision Windows

Paint Color

The barstools had to become part of the design for the playroom because of the open concept, so going slightly more coastal in this room with the oversized beach print and using blue accents in the room helped tie things together.

Paint color is Valspar Mountain Mist.

Inspired by this Look:

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Sofa

Some might think a white sofa and children do not go together. And they would be right! However, I love the crisp look of a white sofa so I chose a slipcover that can be removed and washed.

Sofa is from HD Buttercup.

Ottomans: Etsy.

Artwork: Minted.

Rug: Pottery Barn.

Mudcloth Pillow is by Bryar Wolf – similar here.

Playroom Media Center

Not fancy or even perfectly styled, but that is mom life! This media center holds all the extra toys and books and games.

TV: Samsung.

Gray bins are from IKEA – similar here.

Media Center: Pottery Barn.

Knobs: Restoration Hardware Dillon Knobs.

African Wall Baskets: Etsy.

Desk

Both the desk and window-seat are IKEA hacks. I upgraded the desk by swapping out the hardware and I made the IKEA Kallax bookshelf-turned-window seat feel more custom by adding a bench cushion.

Rattan Mirror: Pottery Barn.

Vintage rug found on Etsy – similar here.

Window

Pillows and bench cushion by Tonic Living – Similar Bench: here (on sale!) & here.

Bins found at Target.

Living Room

Our sectional is actually a recliner and the chaise lifts up for hidden storage. I love how functional it is for our family.

While there is still updating to do to this room, we recently removed the metal stair railings and replaced it with a wooden banister. Painting and staining the banister was a beast! But it was well worth it.

Stair posts are Benjamin Moore Super White and stain was a custom mix.

Artwork on wall by @sarahcnightingale.

Sofa: West Elm.

Paint Color

Wall paint color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Rug is discontinued – similar here.

Seagrass lidded basket: here – similar.

Fireplace

Choosing a split-faced stone for the fireplace is still one of my favorite design decisions.

Stone: Wayfair.

Chair: West Elm.

Moroccan Leather Pouf: here.

Fireplace Sconces: Pottery Barn.

Shelves

Believe it or not, farmhouse style was my first love.

Shelves are IKEA and I spray painted the brackets Rustoleum Hammered Copper.

Grid Photo Frame: McGee.

Walnut Frame: McGee.

Brass Bells: McGee.

Rustic Vase: Here.

Artwork on top by @sarahcnightingale.

Others items mix of flea market and HomeGoods finds (including bottom baskets) – similar baskets: here.

Coffee Table

Coffee Table: here.

Coffee Table Decor: Wooden Bowl, similar moss, similar wooden beads & similar vintage bells.

Sofa Pillows: here, here, here & here.

Dining Room

I love earthy elements and this rustic dining table is the perfect combination of form and function. With all of its raw imperfections, the kids can be as rough as they want with it and I don’t mind.

Dining Table & Bench: West Elm.

Rug is vintage – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Wooden Candle holders are locally sourced.

Planter in corner is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Good Vibes

There is a casualness about my design style which is probably why I gravitate towards word art. And I love the boldness of this black and white piece.

Artwork by JaxnBlvd.

Stool: Target.

Dining Room Chairs

The white wishbone chairs help to bring a lightness to this space which doesn’t get a lot of natural light and the chairs’ low profile makes this small dining space feel bigger. Paint Color is Benjamin Moore London Fog.

Chairs are by InMod – similar here, here & here.

Lighting: West Elm – similar here.

Mirror: here.

Floor basket: Pier 1.

Kids Corner

This was a fun IKEA hack that I did for my 7 year old’s room. I took the IKEA Kallax shelf unit, chose two different color doors and then spray painted the letters. Wall color is Valspar Ghost Ship.

Pillows by Tonic Living – similar here.

Rug & Seagrass boxes from Homegoods – similar rug & baskets.

Shelf and baskets from IKEA .

Reading Nook

These fern decals make this reading nook a lot of fun for my four-year-old. And while I would have loved a hanging chair, I didn’t think it was practical for my boys so I opted for this caged freestanding chair instead.

Decals by Urban Walls.

Chair: World Market.

Paper Mache Animal Heads: Fox, Rabbit & Deer.

Elephant Side Table: Serena & Lily.

Rug: here – similar.

Prints by Society6.

Guest Bedroom

Adding board and batten was a game changer in this room. It instantly made the guest bedroom feel loftier than its standard 8 ft. ceiling height.

Leather Bed: CB2.

Duvet Cover: here.

Nightstand: West Elm.

Throw: here, here & here.

Rug: here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Benjamin Moore Chantilly Lace.

Candle Holders: Crate & Barrel.

Pillows: Black & White & Bolster Pillow – similar.

Artwork: here.

Guest Bathroom

This small bathroom was the first major renovation we did when we moved in. There was literally a treasure chest inspired toilet box in here and, much like the rest of the house, tiles and walls were orange-brown. Having no prior design experience, I went with timeless marble and this little bathroom still makes me happy.

Bathroom wall paint is Behr Sterling.

Vanity: Wayfair.

Faucet is Kohler Bancroft.

Mirror: Uttermost.

Hand Towel: McGee.

Wood pot from HomeGoods.

Floor Tile: Wayfair.

Master Bathroom

This is our only bathroom upstairs, so it was important for us to keep a separate tub for our kids. Paint color is Behr Light French Gray.

Paint Cabinet Color: Benjamin Moore Simply White.

Tile is Ceramiche Caesar Porcelain Tile in MORE Manhattan – similar here.

Rug is from HomeGoods – similar here & here.

Vanity: Pottery Barn.

Art Print from Serena & Lily.

Crytal knob by Emtek.

Tub: Wayfair.

Stool: Serena & Lily.

Master Bedroom

I love having a neutral bedroom that I can easily switch up by swapping out pillows and throws.

Bed: Wayfair.

Blue quilt from HomeGoods.

Throw: Etsy – similar here.

Full Length Mirror: here – similar.

Rug: Lulu & Georgia.

Textures

Bench from RJ Imports – similar here.

Duvet Cover: Anthropologie.

Wall Basket: here – similar.

Pillows: Velvet Pillows, Mudcloth Pillows, Lumbar – similar.

Stripe vase from Crate & Barrel.

Faux Stems: Crate & Barrel.

Nightstands from Crate & Barrel discontinued but similar ones here, here, here & here.

Paint Color

Paint color is Chantilly Lace by Benjamin Moore.

One of my favorite things about this house is the amount of closet space. Our master has a his and hers closet. The smaller one behind that door is the his, of course.

Ladder is from Crate & Barrel.

DIY

The wall art here was an easy DIY. I put mudcloth scraps in black frames to give this corner a boho chic look.

Chair from HD Buttercup – other beautiful chairs: here, here, here & here.

Side table: here.

Bench: here.

Dresser: Pottery Barn.

Desk

Desk from Restoration Hardware – other beautiful desks: here & here.

Chair is from IKEA – similar here.

Pillow: Serena & Lily.

Hanging planter is from Homegoods – similar here.

Baskets: Serena & Lily.

Rug is from Homegoods – similar here, here, here, here & here.

Many thanks to Erin for sharing all of the details above.

Make sure to follow Erin on Instagram to see more of her beautiful home!

Amazing End-of-Season Sales!

Thank you for shopping through Home Bunch. I would be happy to assist you if you have any questions or are looking for something in particular. Feel free to contact me and always make sure to check dimensions before ordering. Happy shopping!

Serena & Lily: Tent Sale Up to 70% off! – Enjoy an Extra 20% OFF. Use Code HOORAY

Wayfair: UP to 75% OFF – Huge Sales on Decor, Furniture & Rugs!!!

Joss & Main: Best Prices of 2018 – Up to 70% Off

Pottery Barn: Buy More, Save More – 20% Off Sidewide + Free shipping: use Code: HELLO19

One Kings Lane: Final Days to Save: Take an Extra 20% Off Markdowns with Code OKL20MORE.

West Elm: Big New Year Sale: 20% Off Your Entire Purchase! Use Code: NEWYEAR

Pier 1: Huge Sales – Up to 60% Off!

Anthropologie: Winter Tag Sale: All sales at an extra 40% Off! Amazing!

Posts of the Week:

2019 New Year Home Tour.

Family-friendly Home Design.

Christmas Inspiration.

Interior Design Ideas.

Small Lot Modern Farmhouse.

Transitional Home Design.

Newlyweds Home Design.

Family Home Renovation with Casual Interiors.

2018 Norton Children’s Hospital Raffle Home.

Beautiful Homes of Instagram: California Beach House.

Neutral Home Interior Ideas.

You can follow my pins here: Pinterest/HomeBunch

See more Inspiring Interior Design Ideas in my Archives.

“Dear God,

If I am wrong, right me. If I am lost, guide me. If I start to give-up, keep me going.

Lead me in Light and Love”.

Have a wonderful day, my friends and we’ll talk again tomorrow.”

with Love,

Luciane from HomeBunch.com

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6 notes · View notes

akingsfool · 6 years

Text

A Saturday Gathering

warnings: language maybe?

pairings: take it however you want, nothing is stated (im pretty sure)

“Don't you have to be annoying somewhere else?” the third oldest of Elmer’s siblings, Elizibeth, scowled. She and her friend were watching a movie in her room peacefully until Sam came in. He was bored. Elmer was taking him to hangout with his friends later, but that was taking forever.

“Not until four,” Sam shrugged. His sister rolled her eyes. Sam huffed and stood up from the chair she had in the corner of her room. His socks rubbed against the rug as he walked out, making his shock the door handle.

“Sam, ready to go!” his older brother shouted from the kitchen. Sam grinned and ran to put on his shoes. If he had to wait any longer he just might have exploded from excitement.

“Romeo! Can you come here please?” Romeo’s mom called from the kitchen. He didn’t even know why she was in the kitchen, she wasn’t cooking anything. Romeo always cooked, so she obviously wasn't cooking.

“Yeah, what's up?” Romeo put down his jacket and turned the corner to the kitchen. His mom was wearing a nice white blouse and a new pair of jeans. He sighed. She didn’t even have to tell him where she was going because he already knew. “Date tonight?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she smiled. He gave her a fake smile. It wasn't that he didn’t want her going out, he was fine with that. But every time she did he was stuck with Juliet. “Hang out with Juliet tonight ok? I know she’s older than you, but it’s not fair to leave her by herself.”

“Yeah mom, I will,” Romeo smiled. His mom smiled and grabbed her keys, opening the door. “Hey, have-” he was cut of by the door closing, “fun. Have fun.” He stood there for a moment, staring at the wall.

“Mom! Have you seen my- oh,” Juliet rounded the corner to the kitchen. “Is mom on a date again?” she asked. Romeo nodded and grabbed his jacket. “Welp, looks like you’re stuck with me. And, it looks like you already have plans. Where are we going?” Romeo rolled his eyes and began to explain.

“See ya, Miss Medda!” Jack called as he opened the door. The woman in question fabulously walked into the room. She looked at the five of her children. No, wait. There was six. Smalls, Spot, Tex, Crutchie, Roger, and Jack. And a dog. She kept forgetting about Roger. And the dog, Roger. Roger just kept to himself. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was always with the dog, she probably would have forgotten he lived with her by now.

“You kids have fun,” she smiled at the six. “And keep an eye on that dog. I know he’s trained, but people would take that dog given the chance.”

“You got it,” Spot handed the leash to Roger. “Let’s go!” The six of them, and the dog, squeezed out of the door and ran to the car. Roger held dog Roger’s leash, letting him get into the car before he did. The dog was laying in Smalls’ lap as if he wasn’t half of Roger’s size. Roger stayed out of the conversation going on in the car. It just didn’t interest him. Maybe if he felt like it he would join in. it might scare Spot though. Last time he scared Spot he accidentally punched him. He was content to stare out of the window, it was fine with him.

“Hiya, Sam!” Les shouted, waving to the older boy as he walked with his brother to the shade tree they were gathered under.

“Hi, Les,” Sam grinned, waving back. Everyone was spread out in the shade, laying or sitting on the ground. Finch and Buttons, though, were sitting on the tree branch just above where Race was laying. If that branch snapped race was screwed.

“Who’re you?” Les asked, looking at something behind Sam. Sam turned around to see Romeo and...some girl? She was the same height as Romeo, and kinda looked like him too. She had long hair that was braided, though. That was pretty much the only difference. Well, that and the fact that she was a girl.

“I’m Juliet. Romeo’s twin sister,” she said, seeming to take pride in the fact that she had a twin. Sam hadn’t been hanging out with Elmer’s friends long, but he knew that Romeo had never mentioned a sister. Must be a twin thing, he decided. Or, maybe it was just never brought up.

“You didn’t tell us you had a sister,” Tommy Boy said, sitting up on the green grass. Romeo just shrugged.

“You never asked,” he said, sitting down next to Specs and Henry. “Where’s Jack?” Romeo asked. “Better yet, where's Kathrine and Sarah?” He was getting hungry and usually Kathrine and Sarah brought the food. And they weren’t here! What was up with that?

“I don’t know about Kath and Sarah,” Buttons said, looking past Sam and Elmer. “But I found jack and the guys...and Tex and Smalls.” Sam and Juliet turned to see six people and a dog walking towards them with smiles on their faces. Sam waved to the six. Juliet just smiled.

“Who’s that?” Tex asked, pointing at Juliet.

“I’m Romeo’s twin sister, Juliet,” the girl grinned. Tex nodded. Jack and Crutchie went off to Davey, Spot went to talk to Race and Albert, and Roger and Roger went and sat in the grass.

“Who’s older?” Les asked. Juliet looked at her brother and grinned. Sam and Les knew that grin. Their siblings were twins, they knew how it worked.

“It doesn’t matter who’s older, we share the same birthday,” Romeo sighed, shaking his head.

“So, you’re the younger twin,” Sam said, nodding his head and sitting down next to Les. Romeo huffed. “My younger siblings are twins. I know how that works. The older one takes pride in it, the younger one hates it.”

“That’s actually the most i’ve ever heard him say,” Race said. Sam shrugged. He didn’t need to say much. If he couldn’t get his point across in a sentence or two, he didn’t need to say anything. Unless it was his friend or really important. “Why don’t you talk more?” Race asked.

“Because,” Sam shrugged. “I don't like you.” That’s a lie. He liked them just fine. Everyone burst out laughing. Albert punched Race’s arm and Spot just laughed at him.

“Where’s Kathrine and Sarah?” Jack asked when the laughing had calmed down. Davey shrugged.

“We’re here!” Kathrine called, scaring JoJo and Roger. “Sorry, Roger.” The dog licked her hand and Roger just smiled and shook his head. Sarah looked at juliet. She opened her mouth to say something but Juliet cut her off.

“I’m Juliet, Romeo’s twin and the older one,” Juliet huffed a laugh, sitting next to the dog and Roger. Sarah and Kathrine nodded and handed the food to Jack. Everyone passed the food around and took what was theirs. Or what they claimed. Sam and Les sat and watched some of the older kids play a game after they were done eating. It was something weird. It probably wasn’t a game at all. Everyone was just running around tackling each other to the ground and tickling them. A tickle fight. Elmer seemed to be a popular target. It made sense, he was super ticklish. Sam wasn’t even sure how the game started. It probably started because Albert took Race’s cherry sucker. Race tried to get it back but he gave it to Elmer. Sam was pretty sure that Elmer dropped the sucker in the grass.

A few minutes into the tickle fight and everything turned to chaos. JoJo bet that he could climb higher than Specs, and Specs took that as a challenge. He won, but now he was just sitting on the branch and refused to come down. Roger and Roger were running up and down the hill and screaming. Spot and Smalls were chasing the ducks or geese or whatever. Elmer and Race had calmed the tickle fight down and were now watching the chaos unfold. Finch and Buttons were shooting their friends with the buttons that Buttons kept in his pocket. Crutchie and Jack were throwing rocks at swans while Davey was telling them not to. The only ones who weren’t doing something stupid were Sam and Les. And Kathrine, Sarah, and Juliet, who were just talking about random stuff and sitting on the grass.

Sam and Les looked up at Specs. The boy in the tree whipped his head around to look at JoJo. But when he did, his glasses fell. Sam got a little worried when Specs tried to climb down to get them. His foot slipped and he just...fell out of the tree. He hit the ground with a thud. The boy whined and everyone stopped to look at him. Race covered his mouth with his hand when he accidently snorted. Romeo glares at Race as he helps Specs up.

“Dude, shut up,” Elmer nudged Race in the side, trying to stop the the taller boy’s giggles. It didn’t work. “Race, stop.” Race tried to say something but just ended up wheezing.

“I can’t-” Race was cut off by his own laughing. There were tears in the taller boys eyes. Sam bit his lip, trying not to smile. It was a little bit funny. Specs didn’t go up high enough to break anything, just a few cuts and bruises. It was a little funny.

Elmer looked over at Specs and snorted. There were leaves all over him and a bit of dirt too. “Shit,” Elmer laughed, trying to stop himself.

“You guys are jerks,” Specs laughed. Elmer and Race broke down laughing, tears streaming down their faces and they could hardly breath. Specs joined in, laughing at himself. Sam and Les laughed a bit, but not as much as Elmer and Race.

“What if he got hurt?” Spot asked, giving Race a serious look. Race tried to stop laughing to say something.

“Sorry, I-I can’t-” Race laughed and couldn’t finish his sentence. Spot sighed and looked at Albert.

“It’s a very bad reason to laugh this much,” Albert sighed. The redhead smiled and looked at Spot. “There is a better reason to laugh this much, though.” Sam frowned. The red head knelt down next to Elmer.

“Al, no!” Elmer laughed. He tried to get away, but he couldn’t. He was laughing to much. The redhead attacked Elmer’s sides, making Elmer squeal and attempt to kick at Albert. When that didn’t work, Elmer tried to curl up in a ball to protect himself. Spot sat down near Race. Race had stopped laughing as much. He looked at Spot. Spot made no move to attack him. The taller boy looked over at Elmer for one second and Spot attacked his stomach. Race laughed and tried to push Spot away.

Sam and Les just watched this happen. “Does this happen all the time?” Sam asked the younger boy sitting next to him. Les shrugged.

“Pretty much,” Les said.

“Hm, interesting,” Sam said, more to himself than to Les. But Les heard anyway. It was very interesting indeed.

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leo--chimaira-blog · 6 years

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New Face of Fear

Leo wished he’d been a little smarter with the whole letting Noah out of his cage at the request of Reza, Cahill, and one unknown werewolf. The Family finding out about it was inevitable, as Dharm always knew about problems before they even happened, yet he felt like he could’ve played up his part a bit more. They could’ve thrown him around a little more (though he still had a colossal, massive hand-shaped bruise on his face from that highly dangerous alpha, Cahill, which definitely helped), or threatened more creatively to make it feel more like he had no choice in the matter. The way things went, he all but rolled out the red carpet for them and sent them away with goodie bags, which the Family certainly wouldn’t be happy hearing.

Here, there weren’t secrets (or, he wasn’t allowed secrets of his own, the hypocritical snakes), or so much as the whitest of fibs, there were sins that were temporarily overlooked by Dharm until they built up enough to warrant punishment. Today, Leo realized as his phone buzzed with an ominous Meet me in the basement, was the day he reached the end of his chain.

Well, freedom was nice while it lasted. A small, weak part of him was looking forward to having things like personal agency locked back away by the Gift, because really, he didn’t even know how to begin to process that their whole group murdered nonhumans without so much as letting them say goodbye to their families. The Family dismissed them as a liability, something to be exterminated, but in reality, every creature was different, and even if they were evil through and through, it was still insanely cruel to let them all starve to death, or keep them in cages like he’d done to Noah, or shoot them in the head like Maryse ordered of that intruding man. Leo didn’t know how to go about living with that on his shoulders, couldn’t begin to fathom.

Going against Dharm was already a strain on his poor mind, as he suffered from feeling insect legs up and down his spine and bat wings all through his guts and his neck muscles were so tense from it all he’d probably have knots in them until he died. The link was too faint to do anything except hum unhappily and occasionally make him spout propaganda when he was trying to talk to people. He didn’t want to continue to act in a way that made those effects continue, plus Dharm probably had a lot to say about responsibility and consequences.

More than anything, Leo wished he didn’t know. He wished he was capable of returning to Dharm’s arms and accept whatever fate was planned for his insubordination. And with the Gift backing his dad up, he may have no choice but to bend to his will.

That in itself didn’t scare Leo. It’d been the dynamic since day one. Everyone else, however, the ones outside their control, all running around directionless and loveless that he found off-putting. He had purpose with Dharm.

But after everything he’d seen… it was all a lie. How could they have everyone’s best interest at heart when that involved promising to rehabilitate nonhumans and then neglecting them until they died in agony? They knew it was wrong enough to hide.

Leo wasn’t supposed to know. His role was to struggle, to be a gentle, malleable prince who’d only toughen up when Dharm died and it came time for him to inherit the Relics, keeping his faithful aunt and uncles by his side to advise, lofty positions safe even as the crown changed heads. Certainly none of them expected him to find out about their sick little setup, much less start developing opinions of his own on the matter.

At the point, he didn’t have a choice. Leo couldn’t just go back to being ignorant, as appealing as it was, no matter what he faced in the basement.

He puttered around the kitchen for another minute, drinking a cup of water to stall for time and prepare.

Already, the old letters branded into the small of his back throbbed in anticipation, as they were a favorite target of Dharm’s when it came time to be physical. Leo wished he’d pick another place to torment; the scars healed slow, flesh so ruined from the initial fire and all the times it’d been reopened, toyed with, or scorched again that it scarcely closed up anymore. Follow, it once read, inflicted with love and the desire for Leo to take its meaning to heart, but the letters were now warped almost beyond recognition.

Despite his numerous reservations and growing sense of dread, Leo’s instinct to be a dedicated son won out as he finished his water, placed the used glass in the dishwasher, ruffled his hair, and made his way to the basement. Its eerily creaky door paired with stairs that sounded like dying cats under his feet let Dharm know he was on his way down to the earth-scented room.

The space was circular in shape with a faded creamy brown wallpaper that peeled up around the edges, a wooden floor upon which was carved a number of commands (they may have summarized the speech from his seminars, but Leo’s head spun too hard when he tried to read what they said, too slippery and elusive for him to absorb), enough ancient rugs to cover the words up, and Dharm’s rocking chair, similarly marked. For now, it also contained Dharm himself, seated sagely with his lantern propped up on his knee, watching his son pad off the final step with disappointment already fresh over his pointed features.

“Hey, dad. You called me?” Leo tried weakly, like he wasn’t aware of exactly what this little meeting was about. “What’s up?”

“Leo,” Dharm sighed, “don’t play this game today. You know what you did.”

“What did I do?”

His blue eyes glinted in the dim light, unreadable. “I’ve been hearing some pretty strange stories. People are saying there was a werewolf on the property who wasn’t initiated. Have you heard anything about that?”

Leo shook his head innocently.

“So you don’t know he got busted out a few nights ago?”

Another head shake.

“Say it out loud.”

“I had no idea he was here.”

Dharm laughed, cold. “Boy, you are a hoot. You realize what you’ve done, right? You just confirmed your role in his release. And you lied to me.”

The accusation was clear in his voice. It was one thing to keep a secret, but quite another to speak slander to the face of the man who controlled all Gifts. Leo should be compelled to tell the truth at all times, but instead was sticking to his false guns with only mild efforts. It was under Dharm’s skin, too, fingers curled too tight around the handle of the lantern, leaning forward in his chair with interest, icy eyes appraising.

He was gearing up to tear the prodigal son down into his rightful place, under his heel, too obedient for deceit, but Leo didn’t want to go along anymore. “I never lied to you.

“But you did. Just now.” Dharm’s lips pulled back over his teeth. “This game you’re playing, Leo, it’s making you weak. Working against your own family? That’s a sin. I can feel it eating away at you.”

Leo’s skin crawled. The remnants of the spirit linking him to Dharm was beginning to thrum alive from where he’d pushed it down, weakened after the trauma of discovering the legion of dead. He wasn’t going to bow to its will. He knew better. But he couldn’t quite form the words to tell the man no.

“Obey,” said his dad sternly, stepping into the center of the room and jerking his head in a ‘come here’ motion.

Leo guiltily allowed himself to be moved, less from the desire to continue down this road and more out of habit. He was bent over backwards at the knees, shoulders supported by Dharm’s thigh, kept from sliding off with a firm arm looped around his neck. The position was reminiscent of being baptized, but instead of crashing to the floor, Leo was suspended there, helpless to his dad’s will, nothing to break his fall if he were to wriggle away, head left to dangle awkwardly. Dharm’s free hand came down like a vice, heel resting just between his brows, palm flat and fingers clawing to keep him still. From here, he couldn’t run, or speak, or even struggle. Not that he would’ve, since Dharm hated being interrupted.

“It’s my fault too, of course. I’ve let you run wild without consequence for too long. I saw this malice growing inside you and did nothing.” The voice was cold and husky and came from everywhere.

Leo thought that was a load of manure. Behind his eyes flashed the dozens of dozens of nonhumans which lay without graves, mangled and forgotten, without allowing them even a goodbye to their families. He could imagine all too clearly what it must’ve been like to sit there, still as death, docile, and silent as hunger and thirst raged in their bones, surrounded by rot, yet having complete faith that any minute, an initiate would come with the secret to enlightenment, setting them free from their terrible affliction, which was, obviously, their nature. Or worse, they might’ve just sat there fully aware that nobody was coming, and being perfectly okay with it. Their lives were putty in the hands of the Family, falling through their fingers to splat on the sidewalk and cook into clay under the sun.

And on top of all that, how many times had they fabricated this pretense? How long were they watching, laughing at him and his rosy blindfold, preaching about their superiority when they knew full well that they were just as ugly as anyone else? No, Leo wouldn’t bend his will so easily. Not when Noah was the only living soul to escape death’s greedy claw.

He was glad the kid free, because he was safe and with his own weird family, and Leo could accept his part in the whole thing and move on. It was strange that he of all people, who lived and breathed for his family, who knew better than anyone else how family kept each other sane, played a part in keeping the guy from his werewolf pack and Reza. They were pretty damn happy to have Noah back. Dharm was just mad that Leo wasn’t acting according to his dictation any longer.

“Consider this my apology, boy. I’ve let you suffer too long in chaos. When I rip it out,” here his hissing voice became like gravel, pronouncing the rest with awful leisure, “you’ll be empty enough to fill with fear.”

With the force of the Relic to back him up, Dharm’s palm seared against Leo’s scalp. The vision blurred, morphing into something darker, corpses turning monstrous, growing fangs, skin purpling, yellow eyes rolling around dully as if they were all intricate puppets springing around with an unseen hand pulling at their spines, tickling their dead nerves into spastic motion, spewing maggots and liquefied intestines at every twitch from their gaping mouths and spots where flesh flaked clean away from the bone. But more than that, more than disgust, more than panic, Leo’s link had lit up, helpless to do anything except experience the terror that echoed wildly between them.

“We fight monsters for a reason.” Dharm leaned down and whispered so close to his ear, he could feel his stale breath on his cheek. “Fear brings order, isn’t that what I’ve always told you? From the state you’re in, removing all that chaos will hurt. I expect you to bear it proudly. It’s for your Family.”

Leo’s mouth fell open in horror, brain kindling beneath his skull. He tried to jerk away, and was met with a harsh squeeze of fingertips into his temple. This wasn’t right, it was the Family who wallowed in chaos and deception, not Leo, but the thought melted away like dew through the rising temperature.

“I’ve got you, boy.”

Dharm’s entire body rumbled with the words, but Leo didn’t hear, eyes rolled back in his head, ears beginning to bleed, leaking steadily down his neck. He was paralyzed with the movement of the Gift. It was writhing like a squirrel was trapped there, caught between using its contents to build a nest and trying desperately to escape, gnawing and clawing, making room by any means possible. Dharm told him to be composed, so he didn’t make a single sound, biting his tongue even as his body arched.

What was the point of his rebelliousness? What good did free will do when all it got him was dragged into his place with all the ceremony of a spider waiting for its venom to still its tangled dinner? Was it worth it? In that moment, webs tangling up his mind, Leo decided it wasn’t. He surrendered, blacking out.

Time passed.

He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel, couldn’t move, and if it weren’t for the swollen, satisfied thing behind his ears, he’d have suffocated. He was the same as those awful dead beasts. Disobedient. Chaotic. Straying from the path of enlightenment.

He didn’t deserve his own breath as long as he worked against Dharm.

Swimming closer to awareness, his eyes fluttered open, he recognized that he was laying on his front, neck just beginning to ache from being turned at an uncomfortable angle. Maryse had joined them, standing against the wall with her arms crossed, sorrowful as she watched Dharm, who knelt over Leo’s back with her borrowed knife. The superheated blade following the same old path along the ruined skin and shot nerves. He thought he’d be sick, hurting worse and worse with every pass.

Follow. He intended to. Whatever conflict- its exact nature eluded him currently- wasn’t worth fighting with his family. This was where he belonged.

He must have made some noise- already going back on the resolution to stay silent- because immediately both eyes snapped to him, and momentarily, the pain ceased. Like a comforting blanket, the refreshed link jumped to follow some unspoken command from his dad, smothering Leo back into oblivion so he didn’t have to feel the sharp, ever-burning point return to his spine.

#touchofsolo #touchofpotw #potw the long arm #body horror tw #gore tw #domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #new face of fear #tldr; leo gets his flat ass re-brainwashed so he's loyal to them again #>: ]

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the-empires-blog · 6 years

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Different

Summary: Major Edrington met Lieutenant Archie Kennedy aboard the minesweeper, HMS Renown as he and his battalion were being rescued from the danger of impending Nazis. They had an exchange and, now that the war is over, Edrington hasn't been able to get the Lieutenant out of his mind. Feeling lost and missing the man he had only known for a night, he invites him to his home. Edrington soon comes to find the importance of an ally in the peacetime, which is, perhaps, an even greater battle than war.

tw: nazis, the holocaust, ptsd, depression, smoking, alcohol

There was much for Major Lawrence Bram Edrington to blame such a foolish idea on. Shellshock, for example, or perhaps a mite too much brandy to celebrate, or even the wild jollity that accompanied the end of the war, or perhaps the tidal wave of melancholia that set in deep in his veins before he knew what was happening. Confetti still blew down the streets with the fallen leaves, caked in dirt and misshapen with footsteps. Major Edrington didn’t know what to make of it, and his boot ground a soggy remnant of the “V.E Day” newspaper into the mud between cobblestones. The letter in hand, however, was pristine.

He had fought to locate the ginger - haired lieutenant aboard Renown , the minesweeper that had rescued him and his battalion from the misery of Dunkirk. Archie Kennedy was his name, and his eyes sparkled like sapphires in the wake of Hell. You can share my bunk . It was a fine trade for being coerced back into the metal depths of what very well might have been Edrington’s grave. It was only proper for a Lieutenant to surrender his berth to a Major, but both men knew that was not the primary drive behind such generosity.

They shagged like animals.

Major Edrington regretted the letter he penned to Archie Kennedy once he placed it in the mailbox. Edrington Manor was a quiet perch in Berwick - Upon - Tweed, a ghost of what it had been back in the 19th century in the age of high nobility. It was just Bram Edrington and his mother, Mary, that resided there now. The mansion was ancient and out of style, sporting the elaboracy of the Victorian Era, with long running rugs and great portraits of family members long passed hung on the great corridors. Was it too gaudy, too old - fashioned? Or would it be overwhelming? Bram hardly cared whether or not when he brought back old partners and lovers from university or otherwise. Archie Kennedy was different, he figured.

He watched the Lieutenant walk down the steps of the huffing train that dropped him off at the small station ( nothing more than a raised wooden platform and lamppost beside a wheat field ). Had it not been for the breeze running across the lowlands, Bram might have thought Kennedy’s locks of auburn hair were rays of sunlight brushing across his brow.

The seaman had little with him, just a rolled up newspaper and brown canvas duffle bag in one hand, the other holding onto the metal railing as he stepped down onto the platform.

It was then that Bram realised he had given no thought to what he would say, what he would do, when he saw the subject of his dreams, from both day and night, before him once more.

“You look different,” Archie said pointedly, dropping his bag by his side. The train gave a metallic groan and the smoke puffed once, twice, loud and dictated, and the wheels began to slowly turn.

“What’s that mean?”

He shrugged. “You just look different. How do I look?”

Bram drank him in. “Different.”

Archie’s lips quirked. “What’s that mean?”

He shrugged. “You changed your clothes.”

Archie’s smile grew into a grin and he closed the gap between them in a single stride. Instinctively, Bram tensed, nearly flinched, and a terse remark crossed his mind. Archie would never understand the plagues that ransacked every facet of Bram’s life, and nor would Bram to Archie.

Archie enveloped him in a hug, though. It was not joyous or bittersweet or sensual, but rather a grasp for life. Archie’s fingers curled at the nape of Bram’s neck, kneading through the curls of blonde hair that sprouted there. His body was warm and solid and human. Bram let out a shuddering breath, trying to still it to no avail. They were not inches from death any longer. They stood a fair distance away from war, but wasn’t that what they fought for? A false semblance of peacetime and Britain? From Bram’s pessimistic experience, peacetime was simply a handful of years from war to war to let the human supplies replenish before they could be thrown away again. But now, for however long, they had life and they had Britain, as damaged and fatigued as they were.

They pulled away. A thrush rustled and a fox screamed somewhere in the field, and it sounded nearly human.

“I parked the car just a ways away. Do you care to drive, or shall I?” Bram asked, directing them to where his Standard Nine rested along the boundary of the field.

“You drive,” Archie said with a grin. His gaze cast ahead, the Lieutenant was handsome, auburn hair spilling over his forehead and the corner of his mouth twitching again like he was thinking of something funny. He looks different , Bram decided. But again, this kind of different was not the same as before or even when they had first cast their eyes upon the other.

The drive was uneventful, as most things in Berwick - Upon - Tweed were. Children walked along the side of the street, worn footballs just a kick away from their feet. Sheep grazed in the fields worn down by the harvest. A half destroyed sentinel of a windmill stood upon a hill still burnt black. The rumble of the car engine could have been an incoming bomber. His forearms cramped and he realised he was gripping the steering wheel with such a great intensity, his knuckles were white. Self - consciously, he glanced at Archie, whose blue eyes looked away as he did. The seaman had enough respect for the soldier to not say anything of it.

They turned at the unbecoming mailbox with a fraying yellow ribbon wrapped around the wooden post. “Isn’t that what the Yanks do?”

“My mother finds America admirable,” Edrington said.

“I’m going to meet your mother?” Archie exclaimed.

The car slowed at the turn just in front of the mansion. Bram took the key out of the ignition and turned to Archie. “She’ll be impressed by you, I promise.”

“I don’t know,” Archie swallowed, “if I am the right sort of person for this.”

“Nonsense. We are more than prepared to welcome unfashionable company,” he said, and waited for his reward to manifest itself into a smile on Archie’s lips. It never came. Bram let them into the house, just as his mother came around the corridor from the kitchen, a platter of finger sandwiches propped against her hip.

“I made some treats before supper; I didn’t know if you boys would be hungry!” Mary Edrington was a grey haired woman with little spectacles perched on the little bridge of her nose. She was fond of argyle and paisley and a great equestrian, as well as financial wizard and master gardener: a widow with too much energy. She was much more sensible than a woman of her station would be, limiting herself to cotton dresses and shoes she had worn for years.

Bram cracked a smile and, instinctively, he glanced at Archie to see that he was smiling as well. It seemed so silly to be reduced to nothing but a target, an animal, a survivor, and return to finger sandwiches with cucumber and apples slices. It seemed silly to murder and destroy and still be referred to as a boy.

“Oh, now, what’s so funny?” Mary protested.

“Mother, you’ve no need to stoop.”

“I’ll have you know I do . I sent Mafalda and Jerry home early, and I didn’t want to see our guest ,” she said pointedly, “to be neglected.”

“I’m quite fine, ma’am, but your hospitality is refreshing,” Archie assured politely. “And your home is more beautiful than I could have imagined.”

Mary glowed. “Don’t flatter me or me house, Mister...?”

“Fourth Lieutenant Archie Kennedy, ma’am,” he took her hand and shook it vigorously.

“Sit down, both of you, and I’ll pour out.” For a moment, as they both went to the sitting room and reclined on newly upholstered seats, Bram thought maybe the expression had been nothing more than an empty expression of goodwill, that she would set them a pot of tea and go about her business. Mary stayed, however, and asked how Archie’s journey in was. It was fine, ma’am, but you get used to one form of transport or another in the navy. If it’s not a B-52, it’s a minesweeper, and if it’s not that, it’s a transport truck or destroyer. I was tempted to ask to borrow a carrier and sail her round the backside of the lowlands instead of taking a train . Mary gave a great snort of a laugh at that. Archie poured her another cup of tea with a wink and she took to him even more. He had that way with women, with people in general. He’s different , Bram thought again as he sunk into the loveseat and spectated.

Archie told stories of the war as the day drained into night. They were lighthearted and thoroughly watered down, of course. They were the versions for children and parents and civilians and bartenders and even other veterans. Bram only talked about what happened when he was with Archie. He tried with his mother, once, but she only wished to discuss the broken fence or the bitter weather or the business in town, as if he was on some weekend holiday in France. She seemed to take well to Archie’s tales, however, but she knew her son was safe, and Bram had never been a great storyteller.

“ … we were firing at the U - boats and Nazi destroyers from the promontory like we were throwing darts! The other Lieutenants and I would discuss our shots, running back and forth, perfecting the angles as if we were all three sitting here in this parlour. Sitting ducks, they were…”

“Stop going on so much about the war,” Bram reprimanded gently.

“I don’t mind it one bit,” Mary assured before Archie could get a word in. “I don’t mind being entertained, anyway. As long as you don’t go on about military tactics and makes of aeroplanes and German cars, and oh , those terrible camps .”

A note of tension as tangible as barbed wire and concrete walls stung the room and simmered low. Genuine anger bubbled in Bram’s chest. Or perhaps it felt like anger. Maybe it was guilt, pain, upset, disturbance, and the selfish realisation that he would eternally be ostracised for what he knew and saw, forever misunderstood and misjudged and hailed as a hero when he felt like nothing more than a man responsible . Skeletons haunted his mind.

“Sounds like Bram,” Archie smiled, but, as he glanced back at the major, he might have taken his hand and pulled him onto the Renown and offered his cabin.

“Oh?” Mary giggled, knowingly. Bram light a fag and puffed to himself.

…

A pot roast was served for dinner. A large cut of roast beef was arranged on a great orange platter and placed in the middle of the long wooden table, ornamented with bowls and plates of potatoes, gravy boats, rolls, and a large carafe of ale. The grandfather clock struck seven as Mary said grace. The pearl handled silverware felt strange in hand. Bram thought he would grow accustomed once more to it after a few days of being home again, but days turned into months and they felt just as foreign.

He forced himself to eat slowly. Paranoia seemed to creep up on him when he ate, if for no other reason than to remind him that his sense of security was false. Bram put his fork down between bites and sipped at the alcohol with deliberation.

Mid - meal, Archie spied the well tempered clavichord hiding beneath the black cover in the corner of the dining room. Without excusing himself, he went to it and tapped at the keys.

“Can you play?” Mary asked.

In response, he began tapping out a tune from Gilbert and Sullivan’s HMS Pinafore . “Things are seldom what they seem,” he sang, “skim milk masquerades as cream, highlows pass as patent leathers; jackdaws strut in peacock's feathers.” His voice was adequate, though whatever talent Archie might have possessed was marred by his attempts to roll ever ‘r’ in the gaudy, operatic way whilst doing the bass and soprano parts of the duet and play the right notes on the well tempered clavichord. “Though I'm anything but clever,” he went on, “I could talk like that for - ever, once a cat was killed by care, only brave deserve the fair.” The Lieutenant went on to finish the song and Mary clapped enthusiastically.

It was almost embarrassing to Bram that Archie thought he needed to earn his keep somehow within the house; he was a guest. As Bram was determining whether to tell him now before he could neglect his dinner for a show, or later that night, he faced a realisation. Archie stood and gave a flourishing bow, pantomiming the removal of a hat, sweeping it across his body as he bowed deeply. He’s an entertainer , Bram thought. None of this was for them, but rather for Archie to be liked, to be seen and heard, to be adored, and to be laughed with and at. To be remembered.

Bram retired later that night, though a great deal earlier than he usually did. He had not gotten adequate sleep the night before, yes, but he was eager to hole away in his room.

“That is terribly rude to your guest, Lawrence,” Mary insisted. Archie looked uncomfortable, as he always seemed to be when mother chided son. Bram was well into his twenties, but Mary would only relent when she herself was dead and gone. Archie would have to get used to it.

“Believe me, I’ve been far ruder to Archie,” he said, beginning up the stairs.

“Then we shall see you tomorrow,” Mary said. She turned to Archie. “Is he so awful to you, Lieutenant Kennedy?”

“It’s nothing I haven’t grown to like.”

…

Sleep evaded him. The curtains blew back and forth with the cold night air drifting in through the window thrown agape. Mary would have a fit if she knew the power from the furnace was being wasted. Bram snuggled beneath the covers, feeling much younger amongst the relics of his adolescence. Photographs from university, letters from his secondary school mates, medals from mathematics competitions all littered his bedroom. He might have been a child again. His eyelids drifted low and his breathing slowed.

Bram jerked atop his bed, eyes flying open and turning quickly to see who was at the door. Nothing but shadows. He wished he had his rifle to cradle; stuffed animals no longer gave him security.

He sat up and lit another cigarette. The moonlight gleamed in through the open window, pale rays almost making the smoke dissipate into nothing. His lips pursed and he tried to blow a smoke ring.

Bram threw the covers back and stood. His limbs were sore with fatigue. His skin prickled with gooseflesh and he abandoned his room and quietly snuck down the hallway. Light bled into the corridor from one of the rooms. He entered without knocking and saw Archie sitting on the floor, back to the bed, reading a book by flashlight.

“I hoped you would be asleep,” he said, not looking up from the dimly lit pages.

Bram took a long drag on his cigarette. “Me too.” He padded to the four poster bed and curled on the side closest to Archie, looking down and reading over his shoulder just to find that he couldn’t. “What book is that?”

“Hamlet,” Archie said as he closed it and looked back at Bram. “By Shakespeare. Have you heard of him?” Edrington wondered if this was how Archie survived the leftover hardships of the war when he wasn’t performing.

“I missed you,” he said sincerely.

Archie turned fully and rested his elbows on the side of the mattress. His hand ran through Bram’s hair. “I know.”

“I missed you so much,” Bram’s voice dropped to a whisper as it broke.

“You daft bastard, why didn’t you write me sooner?” Archie queried, pressing kisses to any bare flesh he could find. Bram leaned forward and kissed his lips softly, tenderly. Between horrifying dreams of shrapnel and fire and walking skeletons was the rare feeling of Archie Kennedy’s lips upon his, moving slow as hands grabbed and bodies pressed.

Archie climbed on the bed and straddled Bram, whose hands settled on his waist beneath his shirt. Archie abandoned his post at Bram’s lips and settled at the crook of his neck, nibbling and biting there and breaking capillaries. It would bruise, no doubt, and Bram thought as much. Archie’s hand went to the hem of Bram’s pyjama pant, but the Major caught him. “Wait, Archie, I don’t want - ”

“Tell me what you want, then,” breathed the seaman as he kissed Bram’s cheek, close to his mouth.

“I want to sleep.” Archie slid off of him and reclined beside him. He knew what he meant.

“Okay,” he said, and Bram noticed his lips were swollen. Bram’s arm rested on Archie’s waist as he turned, fitting his own body with Bram’s. He was warm and solid, heart beating just as unsteadily as Bram’s. The major wondered how long it had been since Archie had sleep. He might have asked, but a yawn overcame him. Archie pulled the hand that rested on his hip over and laced his fingers in it. Their cold legs intertwined and Bram smiled into Archie’s hair.

Bram had dosed on the battlefield, longing for the stillness, the regularity, that home would grant him. It was a strange thing to go from the coddled state of adolescence to the animalistic desperation for survival, and back to normal life. For some reason, he thought that once he smelled the marigolds in the garden and wandered through the streets of the township, it would come to him. Bram was never to return to that life again, and he was alone in that knowledge. He was different.

Well, almost alone.

Perhaps the closest he would come to that sense of innocence was with Archie Kennedy by his side, in his arms. The man that tells war stories as if they were naught but tall tales. The man that made light wherever he went. The man that sacrificed himself again and again. The man he chose. The man that chose him. The man that was different. They both were.

“Goodnight, Bram.”

“Goodnight, Archie.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#; a concept of love ( archie && bram )#let it be known that this was finished at 4:55 am and i stayed up all night writig this dumb gay shit #i'm not proofredding #any mistakes??? i dont care #i have to be up in two hours

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chatoyism · 6 years

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Safe With You ➺ Jae One Shot

➺ Summary: Jae always played soft on you, he was Chicken Little after all and had to keep his soft image. However, after commenting about his maturity, he thought that it was about time that he stood up and proved to you that he was indeed a man.

➺ Genre: Romance, Fluff, Slight-Angst

➺ Member: Park Jaehyung (Jae)

➺ Words: 2.2k

A/N: Jae looks absolutely magnificent in glasses! This one-shot is inspired by a cute pickup line that will get you boys that will be attracted to you! Please enjoy this one as this was just a cute little one-shot I decided to write about!

It was the start of the morning and the weekends was just beginning. Sunlight shined through your windows and the smell of cooked rice and last night’s leftover bulgogi was filling the air with its scent. It was peaceful as always, there wasn’t a blaring sound of electric guitars anywhere or loud voices echoing through your house. Silence, a loving emptiness that you loved listening to on an average occasion.

You lived with Jaehyung, your boyfriend for one year and a beautiful connection have bonded the both of you. It had only been a few months since you both decided to share physical emotional contact with each other like small pecks and surprise tickles on the sides but it had never progressed any further. Like every other relationship that was just as decent as you two’s, it was all about whether it would ruin the relationship or not.

He wasn’t the type of person to give you kisses and hugs often because he always practised in the studios with the other members of the weekdays, but it didn’t affect you in any way possible. His career did not collide with your love life which was what made you two a perfect match for one another. Being able to handle each other’s distance was what bonded you together, a strong relationship that was being separated by the fear of ruining the love.

You were sitting in the living room on the soft rug with Jae cross-legged in front of you. His cute lens-less golden glasses proportioned his face and pretty eyes. Just the way you liked it.

Jae tugged at your cheeks and squished them lightly, puffing your face up to look like a marshmallow. He scrunched up his face while squishing them, puckering his lips at your adorable expression.

“Wow, so cute!” He said in English, making you blush at his compliment and lightly smacking the side of his arm in embarrassment.

“Ouch!” He pretended to feel hurt. “Why did you hit me?”

“Because you’re embarrassing me, you idiot!” You laughed and hit him again, making you both chuckle together.

His hands were heading towards your cheeks once more, wiggling them around while you made silly faces and crossing your eyes which made him burst out into fits of laughter. You were just too weird for him that he loved you so much.

“You’re so adorable, I can’t hold it in!” He said in between chuckles.

You furrowed your eyebrows and turned around, facing your back towards him and huffing with madness. On the outside, you looked serious, on the inside, your heart was beating for him to laugh once more at an inhuman pace.

He noticed your reaction and sat up, holding your shoulders and leaning over to make you see his face.

“What’s wrong Y/N?” He asked, leaning to the side while you objected and moved around so he wouldn't be within your sight.

“Is it because I was harsh on you? Am I not cute enough?” He cheekily smiled.

“No,” You answered.

“You’re just not manly enough. You’re a cute little chicken but I can’t help but smile because of you. You’re a man but… it’s adorable.”

Jae’s smile turned into a straight face, his smile droopy at your response and you turned around to look at him in the eye, grinning from ear to ear at your joke before he stood up and walked silently and possibly mad towards the upstairs rooms. He didn’t say anything, he was quiet and didn’t turn back as all you saw was his figure from behind, before he slipped behind the wall and up the stairs.

“Did I say something wrong?” You questioned rubbing your head.

Meanwhile, Jae was fuming with anger but hid his emotions inside.

“I’ll show her that I can be a man. I’ll show her that Park Jaehyung, is indeed a man.”

Kang Younghyun and 3 others liked your post.

You smiled at the new info you gained on your phone, a notification from Instagram about the new photo you posted with you and Jae at the top of Namsam tower, giving a quick peck on the cheeks and hearts around the image as a filter. You were that kind of person.

Jae however, was still upset with you. You haven’t figured it out ever since this morning when you two were mucking around with each other and ended up complaining after he squished your cheeks. He was confusing to you, mood swings and constant grumps, but that was Jae. He was still beautiful in your eyes. As soon as you commented about his manliness, he seemed to change. He was a different person.

You were in the bedroom that you and Jae both shared, sprawled across the bed sheets scrolling through social media and double clicking every photo you saw no matter what photo it was. You were bored but was having the time of your life.

Your boyfriend was downstairs, the sounds of guns and bullets shot out of the ignition while loud noises and screams were echoing through the house, obviously, the screams coming from him when a zombie was about to come too close to the TV screen.

Overall, your communication was limited. Nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary besides the fact that you missed him so much and didn’t speak for the entire day.

You could live without him for five days of the week, but when he’s already in the house and not talking to you, it made your heartache.

The sound of your stomach grumbled loudly, a gurgling sound rumbling everyone as you pat it softly.

“That’s right… I haven’t fed you in so long since breakfast.” You talked to your body. “It’s almost dinner time and it’s getting dark. Wonder what I’m making today.”

Heading downstairs, you tiptoed quietly, trying not to make to much noise that will distract your boyfriend from the game since he seemed pretty traumatized by it. Zombies, loud groans and blood splattered across the TV Screen with the PS4 plugged in, it didn’t look like he’d like the company of you scaring him.

“What is he doing…” You questioned, shrugging it off before entering the kitchen.

Opening the cabinets, you mumbled to yourself the ingredients you stored.

“Pasta, dried noodles, uncooked rice, bread, more bread, even more bread, cookies, biscuits, cocoa, tea bags and some carro—”

The sound of the backdoor thumped loudly. Everything went quiet around the house, even Jae had turned off the TV to stop and try to hear the sound again. It rattled and the lock clanked against metal as the thumping sound continued once again.

Lights went out and darkness was enveloping the entire place, making your heart sink to the bottom in indescribable fear. Footsteps were heard getting closer to you before the warmth of someone’s body and soft breaths whispered into your ear.

“There’s someone outside, I just looked outside.” The voice said in the pitch black darkness. You knew exactly who it was and calmed down a little, resting your chest and breathing out slowly.

“He’s trying to get in so you gotta do what I say or else we both will be targets,” Jae explained, moving closer to you in case the man outside could hear. His soft voice cleared your mind and you nodded at his response. “He has a weapon with him, he might hurt you. I’m not letting you get hurt tonight.”

He instructed you silently to go up the stairs and watch from afar at the top level, making you the guard and making sure everything was clear, using the small amounts of moonlight to search for his figure. It was indeed dark, nothing could be seen besides black so when you were waiting at the top of the stairs and Jae walked down to grab something from the garage, loud racket and noises echoed everywhere.

“Smart move Jae, smart move.”

Before you could comment on anything else about his stupidity, a sound of the window being smashed was sent everywhere. It was heard from the kitchen, living room, bedroom and bathrooms since it was loud.

A step was heard, another step and another as the figure Jae saw entered your house quietly, his breath hitched and his build very muscular. Your breathing silenced, holding it tightly as he stomped through your dark house around the place opening drawers and cabinets to search for something.

Thank god there weren’t any valuables in those things… You’d be roasted by then.

It took him a long time to search the bottom level, not finding anything and pulling out a black bag from his pockets to see all the things he put in it. Before you knew it, he began walking up the flight of stairs, the stairs where you were waiting straight at the top.

Your heart was beating quick, stammering and going faster and faste—

The lights suddenly turned on at the bottom of the stairs. Standing at the last step was, you couldn’t believe it.

It was Jae, holding a giant metal baseball bat and wearing a baseball cap on his head, his deep sharp glare penetrating through the back of the intruder’s figure.

He snickered, looking at the man who grunted and turned around from your direction heading towards Jae, luckily for you, he didn’t seem to notice you were there. From that point, it wasn’t your life you were scared off, it was Jae. He was skinny bones fighting against the human Popeye.

“What do you think you’re doing in my household?” Jae sternly asked, spinning his bat around in circles as the intruder grunted, his glare right at Jae’s eyes that glistened in the kitchen light.

“What a pleasant surprise, a guest. I’m guessing that was what caused the loud racket I heard from earlier, imbecile.” He spat, making Jae’s blood boil. You could tell since his veins were popping out, his muscles were easily shown. He was mad.

He triggered him.

“What did you just call me?” He asked again.

“I called you an imbecil—”

He was about to finish his sentence before Jae came in and swiftly whacked him super lightly on the head, not even an indent as the intruder was surprised, shocked and devastated before falling down into unconsciousness. One hit and he was down. He did not move whatsoever. The intruder was still, fainted on the floor as you got up and ran towards your boyfriend.

You quickly engulfed him in a tight hug before he told you, “Quick. Call 119, the police need to know about this. Did you hurt yourself anywhere? Are you okay? Are you alright?”

He kept bombarding you with questions, making you surprised at first before nodding at every single one of them.

“Yes, of course, I’m fine Jae!” You exclaimed and smiled. He seemed happy, a smile plastered on his face and he brought you in for another hug, glad to know that you were okay.

Police came by and arrested the man on sight, handcuffing him outside of your house and on the front porch as you quickly dried your hair coming out of the bathroom and entering the warm bed.

It turned out that the intruder attempted to rob your home, and was actually a wanted robber for weeks now yet no-one had caught him yet. It made you laugh at first that the intruder was that terrible at recognizing Jae’s speed and sporting ability so you chuckled that your boyfriend who was the next “Chicken Little” managed to take down a buff guy.

“What are you laughing at, love?” Your boyfriend asked as his hands slithered past your waist and pulling you closer in the bed, making you feel his warmth and shirtless body against your skin.

“I’m laughing at how you managed to save my life just by smacking him on the side of the head as light as a feather. You are making wonders Jae.” You smiled and poked his cheeks in happiness.

“Did I show you how much of a man I was then?” Jae asked, making you furrow your eyebrow before finally getting the whole point about today.

He avoided you and played combat games on his console to prove to you that he wasn’t scared, vulnerable and afraid to stand up to anything. Despite being a little munchkin on the outside, he still cared for you like a man on the inside.

You nodded, smiling at him brightly. “Of course you did. You gave me a second chance, love. I’m so happy.”

“Honestly, when I’m around you, you make me feel so…”

“Safe.”

From then, Jae was smiling from ear to ear, a bright shine sparkling in the moonlight mixed with red and blue colours from the police lights outside the window. You could feel it, see it, touch it, his curved lips that was turned into a wonderful smile at your words.

Before you could sleep and turn around onto your side, your lips were suddenly in contact with Jae’s, moving with passion and love, yours moving in sync with his. You both exchanged love, the beautiful feeling of bliss and protection as you closed your eyes and took in his sweet lips.

It was the first time that you ever kissed this passionately with him before. The first time you’ve ever felt so protected to be with a boyfriend like him.

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aresaphrodites · 7 years

Text

Wicked Games Chapter Seventeen - Epilogue.

Thank you to everyone who read this story and who commented and left kudos on it. Your kind words are what made me want to update and finish this story. To those of you who have been here since the beginning; thank you for sticking with me throughout all my crazy cliffhangers. I love ya'll so much.

To @itstenafterfour, this story never would have made it here without you cheering me on and gassing me up 24/7. Hope you're ready to be my beta forever.

We've come to the end of this journey.

Thank you and enjoy. <3

It’s that time of the year again, for the news to broadcast her struggles and pretend they understand the pain she’s been through. For some reason, Betty can’t tear herself from the screen, so she watches the anchor read a speech that sounds plastic and pre-written.

“Today marks the five year anniversary of the death of Veronica Lodge. Veronica Lodge was one of Hollywood’s most beloved actresses; starring in countless films and box office hits, such as End of Tonight, Hollow’s Creek, and The Darkness In Us. Her life was cut short at a tragic twenty-two years old when she was brutally murdered in her Los Angeles home by Marisol Hemmings. Hemmings was one half of what would later be known as the duo in the Betty Cooper Scandal, along with Christopher Cooper, otherwise known as Chris Matthews.

Veronica Lodge is remembered through her movies as well as through Archie Andrews’ who was her longtime boyfriend before the incident.”

Betty can’t help but scowl. It wasn’t an incident, she was fucking murdered. Say it, you coward.

“His new album, titled Veronica, is a complete tribute to the late actress and I have to say, it’s one of his better albums. The lyrics are both painful and beautiful, you can see how much his work has grown since her passing, and how much he truly loved her. Andrews’ is currently taking a break from singing and is traveling the world, something the young singer said Veronica had always wanted to do with him when they both had breaks.

As for the other person targeted in this scandal: Betty Cooper, former supermodel, found herself front and center of a stalking situation that quickly turned deadly.”

The TV turns off and Betty turns around to see Jughead standing behind her, remote in his hand and a frown on his face.

“Do you think they’ll ever stop talking about it?” Betty asks him. They always talk about it, every year; acting like they knew Veronica. They post pictures of her face everywhere and have marathons of her best movies. They always show End of Tonight, a movie that Betty and Veronica had once dubbed her worst work yet.

Betty never missed a marathon.

At first when she’d see a picture of Veronica, she’d go into a frenzy; yelling and screaming and then nothing. She’d sit and stare at nothing for hours, not moving and not talking. And that pain would bring back other things. For a while, she couldn’t even cope with loud sounds, especially anything closely resembling a gunshot. During a particularly bad incident, Betty was curled up on the kitchen floor, whispering Veronica’s name catatonically.

That’s when Jughead told her that it was time for her to sit and talk to someone.

He knew this wasn’t like his gunshot wound, not like the surgical scar on his lower back. This was something invisible, internal, something he couldn’t see and fix, so he had to make sure she did was was right for her to heal from the entire disaster.

She started seeing a therapist in Riverdale. It took her a long time to open up about everything, but she finally did. One day, a year after everything, her therapist told her to try to sit through a movie of Veronica’s, a funny one, one that would take Betty to a time when everything was okay.

So she did.

She watched one of the earlier movies that Veronica had starred in. It was a teen comedy about a highschool girl whose life was a complete mess and how she ended up becoming the most popular girl in school. It was cliche and trashy and perfect. Betty didn’t cry while watching it like she thought she would. Instead she smiled and laughed. Sometimes it felt like Veronica was right there with her, a hand on her arm, laughing along with Betty. Veronica always believed it was important to laugh at yourself sometimes.

“Probably not,” Jughead answers her. “But you don’t need to watch that right now. Jellybean’s expecting us over at the high school.”

Betty nods, remembering.

Jellybean is Jughead’s little (well, not so little anymore) sister, and a permanent fixture in their new life in Riverdale. Betty often freaked out over how alike the two siblings were, but she welcomed it. Jellybean was a godsend to her. She had been through things, just like Betty and Jughead, and she was living proof that your past didn’t have to define who you were now. Betty adored her.

Jellybean had done something good with all of the terrible things that had happened to her. She had written a book, a self-help kind, that talked about her experience that night with Chris back in high school, her mother’s death, her father’s alcoholism, and how she was able to overcome everything even though times seemed tough. She was strong; she was part of the reason why Betty hadn’t crumbled and fallen apart a long time ago.

She was giving a talk at Riverdale High today and had asked Betty and Jughead to attend.

“I only got the hour off,” Jughead says as he hands Betty her coat. “We don’t want to be late.”

Jughead works as a cop. It’s really the only job he could see himself doing, he had told her once upon a time. He said he wanted to protect people in a way that no one had protected Betty when she needed it most. He also jokingly mentioned that if the officers of the law weren’t going to do their job, someone had to and it may as well be him.

Betty was somewhat the same. She couldn’t let go of her modeling, as much as she wished she could. For all the bad memories she had tied to it from the last year she’d been in Los Angeles, she still loved it. Modeling was something she had always loved, it was her. She only did small events in Riverdale now; charity appearances in New York and sometimes, if she felt like she could, she would fly to Los Angeles and do a few shoots. It wasn’t like before, it didn’t take up her entire life, but it was still there.

“Cheryl and Reggie are coming with the baby,” Betty tells him as they walk out of their house and to the Range Rover parked outside. “They really wanted to hear Jellybean speak and they miss us.”

Cheryl had stayed a constant in her life, to which she was very thankful. Her therapist had told her that people tended to either grow closer or drift apart during traumatic experiences. Betty was blessed to say that her and Cheryl, and her and Jughead, all grew closer. Even Reggie had snuck his way into Jughead’s good side; Betty and Jughead had even been named the Godparents of their baby boy; Jason Mantle, named after Cheryl’s late brother.

They had all lost someone. Sometimes she wonders if maybe that’s why they were all able to stay so close; they understood the pain and suffering each was going through.

The ride is full of a comfortable silence. Jughead holds her hand the entire way just like he always does. He toys with the ring on her wedding finger and Betty smiles. The diamond sparkles as the sunlight catches it and she doesn’t think she’s ever seen something so beautiful.

They arrive to the school soon enough and Betty’s not surprised to see that there seem to be a lot of people already there.

They’re late; of course they are, and they walk into the gym and stand off toward the side. Jellybean is in the middle of talking already, and Jughead takes a hold of Betty’s hand as they listen to her speak.

“For a long time I blamed my actions for what happened that night with Veronica. I blamed myself for what happened with my sister-in-law and brother. I thought to myself, what if I had just pushed the issue with Chris harder? What if I had demanded that he be locked up? It was irrational, but all I could feel was shame. Shame at myself for not having stood up for myself all those years ago. Shame for letting him walk back into the world, just so he could do something far worse to others. Shame at the cops for letting it be swept under the rug.”

“But as time went on, I realized that no one was to blame for what happened that year except for one person. And that person was Chris Matthews; Chris Cooper.” Jughead squeezes Betty’s hand tightly, but it doesn’t really hurt anymore. She knows who Chris was. He was her brother; her brother that she had shot and killed.

Sometimes she still has nightmare about that night. She can’t really look at guns the same way anymore. Even now, as Jughead wears his work belt around his waist, he keeps the gun on the opposite side of her. She’s not completely healed from that night, she doesn’t think she ever will be, but she’s working on it. Understanding that Chris was her brother and accepting that is part of working on it. Instead of crying when she turns at night to face Jughead, looking at the scar from his surgery still lining one side, she traces patterns on it until she falls asleep. She’s not 100% over it, but she’s getting there and Jughead is proud of her. His hand tightens around hers and they continue to listen to Jellybean speak.

“The main point that I want to get across here is: Don’t let yourself be silenced. If someone puts you in an uncomfortable situation, then you make sure that you speak out and you let yourself be heard. The same thing that happened to you, could happen to another person. Speaking out could ultimately save a life. Do not let people look at you and tell you that you are making things up or that your problem isn’t big enough to deal with. You make sure that you get justice in the end; however you need to. Sometimes justice is demanding proper action from officers of the law, but other times it’s just -- it’s just taking time to talk to someone about how you’re feeling. Asking for help from people who love you. That’s justice too, if you want it to be.”

It feels like she says the last part directly towards Betty.

For a while after Betty had killed Chris, people deemed her a murderer. This stopped her from getting jobs for a period of time, but she’s thankful the tabloids hadn’t followed her to Riverdale. She always felt like this small town was a world in itself, and most people never leave.

Her leaving to be a model was the exception. But to the press, it didn’t matter that he had tried to kill her and Jughead. They just looked at her and saw a woman who killed a man “without a fair trial”. Betty knows better, though. There’s no such thing as a fair trial. She did what she had to do and she’d do it all over again if she needed to.

Jellybean continues her speech, talking more about her parents and this time it’s Betty’s turn to squeeze Jughead’s hand.

Jughead had been shocked when he found out that his father had gone to rehab. He had went to go see him over in South Carolina and when he came back, he told Betty all about it. His father was in a good place now. He’d been sober for about four years. Betty didn’t meet him until Jughead had deemed his father stable enough, but when she did, it was amazing.

FP Jones was a kind man, he was a good man. He was smart and funny. He was a little bit broken, but he had a heart full of good. He was just like Jughead. He was there at their wedding, standing alongside Jellybean. It was one of the happiest days of her life.

Jellybean finishes up by answering a few questions and then the speech is over.

The herd of kids flows out of the gym doors, a couple of them wiping at stray tears with a brash hand, but Betty and Jughead stay behind.

Jellybean is standing in the center of the gym still, but she’s holding a redhaired child in her arms as she talks to two people.

“JB!” Jughead shouts as he jogs over to her. Jellybean turns around and grins as she sees the both of them.

Betty didn’t know her growing up, but she looks at the beautiful young woman standing in front of her and she feels a sense of pride.

“You guys made it!” She squeals out.

“Yeah, like thirty minutes late,” Cheryl snips from behind her but there’s a smile on her face. Betty runs and engulfs her in a hug. She hasn’t seen Cheryl in a few months and she’s missed her like crazy.

“Jughead was late getting home!”

“All work and no play,” Reggie sighs as he brings in Jughead for a hug. “When you gonna let up, man?”

“Well, I’m sorry not all of us can throw a football for a living.”

Reggie gasps and holds his chest in mock hurt. “Keep talking like that and guess who’s not going to the Superbowl for free.”

“If you even make it to the Superbowl.”

“Oh, that’s it.”

Reggie takes off after him, Jughead laughing the entire time and it feels like they’re a bunch of kids in high school again.

“Think they’ll ever grow up?” Jellybean asks with a smirk.

“God, I hope so,” Cheryl sighs. “It’s easier to take care of a newborn baby than it is to take care of Reggie.”

Betty disagrees. She hopes that Jughead stays this young and this happy forever. She hopes that he’s always as happy as he is right now in this moment.

“You know, Betty,” Cheryl says in that tone of voice that means she’s up to no good, “Louis Vuitton’s looking for someone to be the new face of its brand. If you’re interested.” Cheryl is still her manager. That’s completely true, but somewhere along the way she stopped holding so much authority and became more of a friend. But it’s still her job to inform Betty of the requests brands put up to her.

Once upon a time, Betty might have leaped for joy at the offer. She would have dropped everything and anything for just the chance to get the job. Louis Vuitton could wait, right now she had to go untangle Jellybean from the disaster that was Reggie and Jughead as they begin to chase her around the gym. She places a hand onto the growing bump on her stomach, Cheryl smiling at her, and she realizes that there are so many more important things in the world.

She’s staring at a few of them right now.

Tag List: @pearlywise @novelistjugheadjones @thedenisecarla @oldfashionedvanilla @eliza-hamilton-helpless

#bughead fanfiction #Wicked Games Fic

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joylee56 · 7 years

Text

Have You Tried Turning It Off and On?

For Ifishouldvanish; Happy RCIJ!

For the prompt, ‘Hey, you’re the jerk...’

Rating: Explicit; Also Lacey has a potty mouth.

“I’m pretty sure nurse maid isn’t part of my job description.” Lacey said.

“You’re the project manager. Babysitting is pretty much what project managers do.”

(part 3 of 3)

The afternoon before the regionals, a battered VW van pulled up in front of the pink house. Even before Neal clattered down the stairs and out the door, Lacey rolled her eyes and muttered, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding. Talk about cliché.”

“Five bucks says that thing runs on methane.” Jeff came up behind her.

“No bet.” She told him. “Is Gold really going to let her drive his kid around in that thing?”

“At some point tonight I imagine he’s going to check the engine and the undercarriage, but, yeah, he’ll grit his teeth and let Neal go with her.” Jeff shook his head. “I never figured out what he saw in her. Alice claimed that the attraction was because she was a free spirit. Something Rum just could never be. Myself I don’t buy it. After his Dad the last thing Rum would want is someone unreliable.”

“What’s the deal with his Dad?” Lacey asked. “He talks about the Aunts who raised him, but he’s never mentioned either parent.”

“Mom split when he was a baby. Dad was a petty crook. The Aunts got custody of Rum when he was eight because Dad got sent up the river.” Jeff said. “And you have to get him really drunk before he’ll talk about his childhood before that.”

That explained his reaction when she told him about Dad.

The woman Neal pulled into the house was at least as tall as Rum. Dark curly hair like Neal’s was pulled back in a pony tail. She was darkly tanned in the way of someone who worked outdoors rather than a sunbather. Based on Rum’s comments Lacey figured her for early forties. She might be tall but it would not be long before all that sun made her look a lot older, Lacey thought snidely.

Jeff greeted her in his most erratic manner. Which since he’d just be speaking coherently to Lacey was clearly put on. “Milah, my dear, back from the seas. Any tales of adventure to impart?”

Without waiting for a reply, he added, “This is Lacey French our new project manager. Lacey, this is Neal’s mother, Milah… is it still Cassidy, Milah, or has your rugged Captain finally gotten you to the altar?”

“It’s Cassidy.” Milah’s smile was a little forced as she shook hands. Clearly Jeff’s antipathy toward the woman was mutual.

“Lacey’s been helping us practice for the competition, Mum.” Neal at least was happy. And missing the friction between his mother and Jeff. “And she makes the best Tea. With scones and custards some times.”

“That’s very kind of you.” Milah was giving her the once over and was not impress with what she saw Lacey could tell.

So she thickened her accident and told the other woman. “No worries. Neal and his mates are good kids.”

Luckily Gold appeared before the conversation went further. “Milah, you’re looking well.”

“And you look the same as always, Rum.” She responded. “Still dressing like it’s 1950.”

“The customers expect professional attire from someone who bills at the rates I do.” Gold said blandly. “Neal, why don’t you show your Mum her room and then we can have a nice cup of tea.”

“You want me to fix the tea?” Lacey asked as Neal took his mother upstairs. The boy was excitedly filling her in on his recent activities.

“No.” Gold sighed. “This is in no way your responsibility.”

“I was offering as a friend.” She told him. “Serve some of the scones I made for the kids’ snacks tomorrow. Nobody can say I don’t make good scones.”

“They have white flour and processed sugar.” Gold sighed. “She won’t eat them.”

Lacey made a mental note to be sure to send Neal care packages while he was gone.

After Neal had to run off to the last prep meeting before the conference. Gold served Milah tea in the kitchen. Lacey could not resist listening in.

They spoke for awhile about the summer plans for Neal and then Milah asked, “Where did you find her.” Her tone was accusing.

Yeah, well, I’m not real impressed with you either, lady. Lacey thought.

“Lacey? We really got lucky there.” She winced. When Gold was nervous he sometimes did not consider the subtext of what he was saying. Not that Milah was not clearly already thinking along those lines.

“She was working at Megacorp.” Gold continued. “When they closed their office here we were able to hire her. She’s fantastic at keeping Jeff on track. Better than I ever was. And she doesn’t mind at all having the kids underfoot while we’re working. Neal has really taken to her.”

“Good strategy.” Milah said. “Cozy up to the kid.”

“It’s not like that, Milah.” For the first time Gold’s voice took on an edge. Good he was finally standing up for himself. “And even if it were, you lost the right to comment on it ten years ago.”

“I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just she doesn’t seem like your type.”

“She’s smart, efficient and kind to my son. All of which rate high in my book for both a co-worker and a friend.”

Lacey rode to the regionals with Jeff and Grace. She decided Neal did not need her and his mother at odds before the competition. The Team did pretty well, considering their inexperience.

At the end of one extremely difficult round, Neal pulled out a win by correctly answering a geometry question he and she had practiced for what seemed like hours.

“Alright!” Lacey shouted. Pumping the air with her fists.

Then she remembered that nobody else was as much as clapping. Neal was looking embarrassed. Damn.

The moderator looked amused. “That your Mom, Neal?”

“Uhm, no.” Neal muttered. “That’s Lacey. She works with my Dad.”

“She helped us prep.” Morraine put in loyally. “She made flash cards and drilled us.”

“And she makes the best scones.” August added as if it explained everything. “She’s Australian.”

Which it kind of did. Back in Sydney the audience would have been a lot less stodgy.

In the end the team placed fourth. Which was not high enough to get them a place at the National event, but did leave them the team to beat next year. They did not seem too disappointed.

The first day after Neal left with his Mother, Lacey brought food to work.

“What’s that?” Gold asked.

“Neal made me promise to look after you while he was gone. So I figure I better make sure you get at least one healthy meal a day.” She held up her casserole. “Chicken curry. I’m not sure it will be as authentic as your neighbors in Glasgow used to make, but Dad swears it’s delicious.”

Gold frowned. “I don’t need a minder.”

“According to Neal you loose track of time when you get programming. I’ve seen you do it so don’t deny it. And Jeff’s working short days while Grace is out of school so you’ll have no one you need to keep on time for.” She pointed out. “So either humor me, or I tell Neal. You don’t want to spoil his summer worrying about you do you.”

“You are a very evil young woman.” Gold told her. Then, “Fine. But we’ll split the cooking. And you’ll share the dinner every day. I suspect you live on noodles when you don’t eat here.”

So they started having a nice sit down dinner every mid-day. They generally cooked enough to feed Jeff and Grace when they were about. Since most often they were not, that made for left overs for Rum to have for supper.

It occurred to Lacey that she was spending more time with Rum than she had with any number of boyfriends. And enjoying his company more. He was a friend she decided and refused to think about it further.

Or she tried not too. Her friends were not making it easy.

She worked late one night writing the help manual for the program. When Rum caught her falling asleep at her desk he told her, “Go upstairs and crash in the guest room. You’re no good to us exhausted.”

Jeff had already arrived when she made it downstairs the next morning. He took one look at her in yesterday’s outfit and exclaimed. “Well it’s about time. I thought the two of you were going to dance around each other forever.”

“I just crashed in the guest room because I was too tired to drive home, Jeff. It’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Of course not.” He smirked. “However the two of you want to play it, little doily. Just know you have my blessings.”

They were getting close enough to finished to start thinking about how they were going to start their marketing efforts. Once again her buddy Google came through with an answer. She excitedly told Gold about it.

“I’ve been looking into it and we should announce Vizeercalc at the big computer conference in Vegas end of the month. Not only would we get a good shot at some publicity from all the tech reporters looking for material, but we’ve basically got our target market as a captive audience. I managed to sweet talk the organizers into giving us a presentation spot. It’s Friday morning, which isn’t a time most companies want, but it could actually work for us cause that will give us the rest of the weekend to hit up distributors and sell product. Isn’t that great?”

Gold did not look like he thought it was great. If anything he looked slightly nauseous. “A presentation? At the Vegas conference? There are thousands of people at that thing.”

“Well, I doubt we’ll be lucky enough to have thousands attending our presentation. Although you never know, if we can get enough buzz going we might get one of the large conference rooms. Which would be great.” Lacey enthused. “We’ll need a demo and to work on what you’re going to say.”

“What I’m going to say?” He now looked actively ill. “No. Oh, no. I couldn’t. I’ll put together a demo for our booth and talk to the distributors, but I’m not doing a presentation.”

“Well, we can’t expect Jeff to do it.” Lacey pointed out. “The guy’s barely coherent on a good day. I’m not sure we should even take him to Vegas. It’d upset his routine too much.”

“Well, I’m not doing it either.” Rum stated. “Call them back and cancel it.”

“What?” Lacey was near losing her temper. “Do you have any idea how much sweet talking and butt kissing I had to do to get us on the schedule for a presentation?”

He was rubbing his fingers together. “I don’t care. I’m not doing it.”

Then it dawned on her what the problem was. “You afraid to speak in front crowds?”

“I didn’t even like to give reports at company meetings.” Rum admitted. “Alice used to do them for me. I’m okay sitting off to the side and answering questions, but to be the center of attention like that… I just can’t.”

“Could you answer the technical questions if I did the actual talk?” This was too big a chance for them to pass up. “I mean you’d have to write the speech for me, but I did some acting in high school. I can memorize a script. I just can’t answer the questions.”

“I could do that.” He agreed.

So she booked them. And nearly had a heart attack when she saw the cost of the hotel. “Rum, the hotel wants to charge us as much as my rent for two rooms for three nights. What would you think about sharing a room?”

Gold blinked. “Uhm, that it would violate Golden Hat’s Sexual Harassment policy.”

“Since when do we have a Sexual Harassment policy?”

“Since you came up with the idea of us sharing a room.” Gold retorted.

She had to snicker. “I promise not to harass you.”

“Still, pay for the rooms with my personal credit card.”

She manage to get adjoining rooms. Because they were going to have to coordinate a lot of stuff and that would make it easier. “But don’t worry. You can lock your side at night to make sure I don’t ravish you.”

Jeff had snorted at that. “I don’t know why you’re bothering to pretend at this point. Neal’s not here to keep up appearances for. Not that he hasn’t figured it out.”

So Friday, the first morning of the biggest computer conference in country, Lacey strutted out onto the platform set up as a temporary stage. Wearing a tight short black skirt with a white silk blouse, and a pair of black four inch pumps. Regina had helped her pick out the outfit. They decided to err on the sexy side of 'professional but sexy'. “Because chances are most of the guys there are more familiar with what professional women wear in the movies than in real life.” Regina had pointed out.

She had done a social media blitz that had gotten their presentation upgraded to one of the larger conference rooms, and it was full. With people standing in the back.

“Hellooow, Vegas!” She waved out at the crowd. “Are we having fun yet?”

There was a weak murmur from the audience. “Oh, come on, mates. We're in Vegas. Is any place more going off than this?”

They had all decided she would stress her accent. Rum had muttered something about. “It will be more memorable.” From the way Jeff smirked it was clearly an inside joke between them.

The audience laughed at all the right places in her presentation, so she figured it went pretty well. Rum ran demos of the program in real time on the screen behind her and answered the technical questions from the audience. Surprisingly there were a lot of non tech questions she could answer.

Like “Why do you call it Vizeercalc?”

“Because the original version was developed while our head programmer was working at Enchanted Software. As many of you may remember all of Enchanted’s programs had names with a fairy tale connections.” She told them. “It’s a visual calculator hence Vizeercalc.

“And our lawyer says changing the names and getting new trademarks is a whole lot more trouble than learning to live with some silly names.” She grinned. “We’ve decided its going to be a feature of Golden Hat’s new product line.”

“Are you going to re-release Enchanted’s Daggerquest:” The next guy in line asked.

Lacey did not remember that one. Gold just shrugged at her. “Well it wasn’t in the top ten programs we’re updating for release. But if there’s a demand for it we’ll get round to it eventually.”

“You have to re-release Daggerquest.” A woman in the third row spoke up. “I loved that game as a kid. If was one of the few games at the time that allowed you to play a female character.”

“And it had the best puzzle’s. It took me weeks to figure out how to get past the Wyrm on level 12.” Another voice spoke up.

Clearly they needed to do some market research and not just rely on Jeff’s preferences. “We’re going to be putting up a poll on our website as to what you’d be interesting in seeing brought back. Check it out in a couple of days and tell us what you think.”

“That actually went pretty well.” Gold told her when they finished the question and answer period and were back at their booth. “Be sure to let Jeff know you’re going to be adding a poll to the website. And be sure to make them give you their email so people can’t vote multiple times.”

“I knew the minute I said that you’d dump it on me.” Lacey sighed. “At least it will give me something to talk about in the next couple of blog posts.”

About mid afternoon Lacey got approached by an Asian man in a suit who bowed and presented her with a card. Not knowing what else to do she returned the bow and gave him one of her brand new cards in return.

Which seemed like the right thing to have done because he smiled broadly. “A pleasure to meet you, Ms. French. I saw your presentation this morning. Most informative. I was curious to know if it would be possible to adapt your program for use on our game machines?”

She glanced at the card. Holy shit. Somehow she kept her smile. “I imagine so. Let me get our head programmer and he can address the more technical aspects.”

Gold was running a demonstration showing off a bunch of Greek letters for a couple of professor types. She dragged him away, inviting the professors to experiment on their own.

“Nintendo wants to know if if you can get Vizeercalc to run on their game machines!” She hissed in his ear.

“It already does.” Rum informed the Nintendo guy calmly. “Or at least it works on the Switch. I set it up for my son to use for his homework. We don't have a Wii so I've never looked into what that would entail.”

It seemed that Nintendo would be delighted to supply him with the developers kit and a console for him to do so. They set up an appointment to discuss the details of getting the program marketed through the Nintendo game shop the next afternoon.

After the guy left Lacey sank into a chair. “You freak out a the idea of doing a presentation, but Nintendo wants to make a deal and you're cool as a cucumber. Rum, you're killing me here.”

“It's just another marketing company.” Rum shrugged. “They're always looking for new product. We won't make as much on the ones they sell as the ones we sell ourselves but the volume will probably make up for it.”

Lacey made a cup of tea to settle her nerves and did an internet search to see if anybody had any good advise for bargaining with Nintendo. Gold went back to his professors.

Who both ended up buying a copy. “They want to know if we'll give an institutional discount if they can talk their IT department into buying the program for the Uni.” He reported back.

“We need to discuss that tonight when we call Jeff. I'm inclined to, but we need to decide how much.”

After that they closed up the booth and went in search of dinner, neither of them being particularly inclined to try any of the restaurants in the hotel. “I like sushi as well as the next girl. But I’m not eating it in a state that’s landlocked.” Lacey declared.

They ended up at a Mexican place off the strip recommended by the taxi driver. Lacey restricted herself to one beer in the knowledge that they were going to be hitting a lot of parties tonight to mingle with distributors.

Rum tried the horchata and rather liked it. “Reminds me of the way I used to make tea for Neal when he was a wee one. Enough actual tea for color and the rest milk and sugar.”

“You do drink don’t you? Cause all of these ‘hospitality suites’ are going to be offering booze.” If he kept any liquor in the house it was well hidden.

“I’m a bad Scotsman in that regard.” He admitted. “I mean, I enjoy a good whisky, but Jeff and Alice were the only ones I’ve had to drink with since Milah left and since the accident Jeff can’t mix alcohol with his meds, so a night out on the town has been Granny’s for ice cream of late.

“Usually when I go to these business functions I get a beer and stand around holding it.” He explained. “Nobody pays attention to whether you’re actually drinking or not and that way I don’t have to suffer American beer.”

“This Mexican stuff’s not bad.” Lacey took a sip. “I mean not up to Guinness standards, but it’s better than the fizzy water that passes for beer here in the states.”

Rum proved to be as bad at networking at the hospitality suites as Lacey had expected him to be. She took to leading him around and only bringing him into the conversation when there were technical questions she did not know the answer to. This appeared to suit him just fine. He even periodically fetched her drinks. Although she noticed that the drinks got mixed weaker and weaker as the evening progressed.

They had their best luck at the Newegg hospitality suite. Lacey did not even have to complete her pitch before she got passed on to a marketing specialist. They left with a packet detailing their options for selling through Newegg and an appointment tomorrow to discuss terms.

“I like the looks of the premier package.” Gold commented as he looked through the packet. “And the commission they charge seems quite reasonable. Are we done for the night? I’d like to get some sleep. It’s going to be a long day tomorrow between manning the booth and meeting with both Nintendo and Newegg.”

Lacey checked her list. “Yeah, we’ve done all the heavy hitters. We can talk to some of the smaller folks tomorrow after our meetings.”

Their adjoining rooms came with a connecting door. Lacey got ready for bed and was about to turn off her light when she noticed the light was still on in Gold’s room.

In deference to Gold’s shyness she knocked on the door and called out, “Rum, you decent?” before pushing it open.

He was seated at the table with his laptop. “Damn it, Rum, you said you wanted to get some sleep. If you stay up all night programming you’re not going to be good for anything tomorrow.”

“I just wanted to unwind a bit.” He glance up at her and then quickly looked away.

The over-sized tee shirt she was wearing to sleep in covered more of her than many of her daytime outfits. He had no reason to be bothered.

The reverse was certainly not true. He was wearing a snug tee shirt and a pair of loose pajama pants that showed off the muscles of his arms and shoulders and lean hips.

It was not like she had not admired the fit of his tailored slacks, but she was getting quite an eyeful here.

Get a grip, girl. This is business. “Don’t make me take away your computer. If you want to unwind watch some TV. I’m sure the hotel has a porn channel. Believe me, if Jeff notices it on the bill he’s not going to complain.”

Gold blushed. “He’d probably cheer.” He muttered.

“Exactly. Now get to bed.” She shut the door firmly on the way back to her room. It was almost tempting to offer to watch a porno with him just to see how embarrassed he would be.

And a small part of her would kind have wanted him to take her up on it.

The meetings with Nintendo and Newegg went very well. Nintendo wanted them to come back Sunday and sign a contract. They sent off the draft to Regina for her review. Which got a text in return. “You do know it’s Saturday don’t you?”

“She just likes to snark.” Gold said. “She’s enjoying all this. It’s exciting compared to the patent and employment law she usually does.”

“Not to mentions she’s billing us $400 an hour.” Lacey pointed out.

“It’s worth it. She’ll make sure the contracts are on the up and up.”

After lunch they were back working the booth, when a big athletic fellow that topped Gold by half a head suddenly walked up to him and slapped him on the back. “Rum! Good to see you. How the hell have you been?”

The slap knocked Rum forward a step and Lacey could see him fighting to keep his balance. She was close enough to grab his arm and help him.

“Mr. Hordor.” Rum nodded briefly at the larger man. “Uhm, very well, thank you. Lacey, this is Mr. Hordor. He was Alice and my manager when we worked at Ogre Inc. Mr. Hordor, this is Lacey French, Head of Marketing for Golden Hat.”

Well that was true in the sense that Gold and Jeff passed off all the marketing stuff to her, but the way he said it made it sound like she was his boss or something. And wasn’t this the guy that Jeff disliked because of the way he had treated Alice?

Hordor was delighted to meet her. And they exchanged small talk for a few minutes before he got down to what he really wanted. “I’m with Dark Computer now, you know.”

“I hadn’t heard.” Rum was not looking the guy in the eyes.

“Yeah. We make custom built computers.”

Which they marketed at a price that made Dell look reasonable. But they mostly sold them to companies like Megacorp that needed specialized or outdated equipment. She had researched them when she was writing her proposal back at Megacorp.

Hordor when on, “I’ve been telling everyone about this program you’re marketing. Looks a lot like that one you worked on at Enchanted. I always thought it was a real shame Ogre didn't do more with that, but the powers that were had a ‘vision’ of how their programs were suppose to interact and the stuff you and Alice wrote just didn’t fit in a lot of the time. Left me caught in the middle as the hatchet guy.”

“It was a long time ago.” Gold murmured.

“And now you’ve got the chance to market it yourself.”

They were not making any secret of Vizeercalc’s history. “We’ve made some significant updates to it, but the basic principal is the same.” Lacey said, since Gold was not saying anything.

“It looks like a real decent little program. Anyway we’d like to set up a meeting tonight to talk about bundling it with our system. Say seven o’clock?”

“Yes, of course.” Gold told him.

After Hordor left, Lacey turned to Gold. “Are you nuts? Jeff would have our scalps if we agreed to do business with that guy. And Dark Computers has an awful reputation for how they treat their suppliers.”

“Oh, if I can pull this off I think Jeff will love the deal.” Rum smiled wickedly. “We’ll need to get you properly prepared though. I’m going to write you another script.”

In the end they set up a chat on their tablets. There were too many variables for her to work off of a script so Gold was going to prompt her from his tablet. They lucked out and they were seated at a table so he could hold the tablet on his lap and hopefully the folks from Dark Computing would not be able to see what he was doing.

Lacey once again ran through her presentation. Cutting some of the broader jokes since the audience was a lot stodgier.

At the end the guy in charge, a Mr. Zoso said. “Hordor was right. This would be a useful little program to add to our bundle. What sort of licensing fee are you asking?”

“I’m afraid we don’t license our programs.” Lacey smiled sweetly.

They had actually discussed this when they worked out their fee structure. Gold’s comment had been. “After all the trouble to get it, I’ll burn the source code myself before I’ll let anybody else get there hands on it.”

“What we can offer you is an arrangement whereby you give your customers a confirmation code allowing them to download the program from our site. We provide all the customer service. You don’t have to do any installation and you only pay for the program for those customers who actually download it.”

She went on. “And because of Mr. Hordor’s prior relationship with Mr. Gold and Alice Milliner we are prepared to offer you our Antiqam plan.” She brought up the slide Gold had hastily put together while she studied for the meeting. “As you can see there is a sliding scale base on number of units sold. You’re the only one we have offered this deal here at the conference.”

Mr. Zoso barely glanced at the slide. “We’ll want another twenty percent off that. After all we’re a major computer supplier. Having your product distributed with our machines will increase your name recognition immeasurably.”

Gold texted. ‘Agree 3 years’.

“I think we could do that.” Lacey said it reluctantly. “We would need a long term commitment at that rate. Say five years?”

Zoso looked smug when he talked her down to three. They signed a summary of the agreement and promised that Regina would get a contract over to them first of the week. Hordor walked them to the elevator. “This is great. I knew we could put a deal together when I heard it was you.”

“Indeed it worked out very well.” Gold answered.

Once they were alone on the elevator, Lacey said, “I still don’t think we should have called it the Antiqam plan. What if somebody who speaks Arabic sees it?”

“I very much doubt a company like Dark Computing has anyone in management who speaks Arabic and the tech people who do aren’t going to be inclined to translate it for them. Their employee relations are even worse then with their suppliers.” Gold was grinning. “Let’s call Jeff and tell him the good news.”

They found an unoccupied corner of the hotel bar to make the call from. Lacey told the server. “We just cut a big deal and we want your best bottle of champagne.

“Well your best under a hundred bucks.” She added. “It wasn’t that big a deal.”

The server, clearly used to tech nerds, suggested, “I’ve got a very nice Cava Brut that is much better than any champagne we have in that price range.”

“As long as it has bubbles bring it on.” Lacey told her.

By that point Gold had told Jeff about the sale to Dark Computing. He put his phone on speaker so she could hear the response. “Are you out of your fu… freakin’ mind?! Making a deal with that… thug.”

Apparently Grace was still up.

“We even gave him the special Antiqam deal.” Lacey told Jeff sweetly. “Minus twenty percent that is.”

“Antiqam? I don’t remember any Antiqam plan.” Jeff said.

“That’s because we put it together this afternoon.” Gold told him. “It’s our standard vendor sales package except we tripled all the prices.”

There was dead silence for a minute. “So we’re selling them the right to distribute Vizeercalc to their customers at...”

“With the twenty percent discount they’re paying us forty percent more than we’re charging our retail customers.” Rum was grinning wickedly again. “And they’re going to be promoting it as a special perk to all their corporate customers.

“Antiqam is Arabic for revenge.” Gold explained.

“Oh. Oh!” Jeff started to laugh. “It’s perfect. Alice would have loved it. You’re hitting them where it hurts the most, their bottom line, and Hordor will probably never realize he’s been had.”

“At some point I imagine somebody at Dark Computing will check our website and realize they’ve been had. At which point they’ll stop distributing it, but until then we should have a very nice income stream.” Gold said.

The wine came and Jeff joined in a drink over the phone. He treated himself to a can of Dr. Pepper.

Lacey toasted. “To Dark Computing, may their due diligence always be as sloppy as it was today.”

Jeff came back with, “To the best deal makers and partners a guy could have. Enjoy the rest of the conference guys, you’ve earned it.”

After they hung up, Lacey commented, “We forgot to tell him about Nintendo and Newegg.”

“It can wait until we get home.” Rum sipped his wine. “He’s too excited about the deal with Dark Computing to take those in anyway.”

“And rightly so.” Lacey poured herself a second glass. ““You were such a badass today. I didn’t know you had that kind of sneaky in you.”

He shyly bowed his head. “I couldn’t have done it without you, Lacey. You’re not who I thought you were when we met. I’m sorry for judging you like that.”

“I don’t exactly go out of my way to correct the impression.” Lacey told him. “But I misjudged you as well. You’re not that shy little nerd. Or not just the shy nerd and I’m glad.”

That brought on the cutest little shy smile. “I’m glad I got you fired. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come to work for us and we’ve never have gotten to know each other.”

“Finally you admit you got me fired.”

He shrugged. “Like Jeff says, I was in the chain of causation.”

What the hell. They were in Vegas. “We need to celebrate!”

“I thought we were.” Gold smiled some more as he raised his glass of wine.

“Really celebrate.” Lacey tossed back what was left of her wine and grabbed the bottle to take with them. She grabbed Rum’s hand with her free one. “C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” He asked as she pulled him to the elevator.

“Your room.”

“M-my room?”

“Well mine’s got all the stuff from the booth piled all over it.” She explained. She let go of his hand. Running hers up his chest. “Unless you’d don’t want to?”

“Uhm, how much have you had to drink?” He asked.

“Oh, come on, Rum. You seriously think two glasses of wine is enough to make me tipsy?” She laughed. “It’s very responsible of you to ask, but I am more than capable of giving consent. How about you? I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you in a drunken state.”

“I’m definitely feeling light headed.” He bent down and dropped a gentle kiss on her lips. “But I don’t think it’s the wine.”

“Great.” The elevator had made it to their floor. “Hold that thought while we get somewhere more comfortable.’

Once they were in his room she pushed him against the door and proceeded to kiss him properly. He was a surprisingly good kisser. She had her hands in his hair and was plastered against him when he pulled back for a minute. “Uhm, maybe we should, uhm bed?”

“Good idea.” His leg probably wouldn’t take a standing position.

She kicked off her heels as they headed for the bed. Once there they went back to kissing.

After several moments of very nice kissing, his hands started to wander. First to her waist and then up to cup her breast. “That’s nice, but I prefer you play with my nipples.” She told him. Sitting up she pulled off her top.

“Quick rubbing to start with, but once things get going light pinching is good too.”

Rum blinked at her and then smiled. “As you wish.”

He was good at following instructions. It did not take long before he had her bra off. Then his mouth joined his hand. She was getting wet and they did not even have all their clothes off. She started to remedy that by getting rid of his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, but could not get the shirt off lying like this. “Cuff links? You wore a shirt with French cuffs to a convention?”

He sat up and undid the cuff links, dropping them on the night table. This gave Lacey a chance to get his belt undone and go for his zipper.

“Uhm, I don’t have any...”

“Condoms? Pretty sure I’ve got a couple in my purse.” She had dropped the tiny bag she was carrying next to her shoes. “Yep, I’ve only got two though so we’ll need to plan ahead.”

“While I appreciate the compliment, I doubt that will be an issue.” He looked a little embarrassed.

“No worries.” She sashayed back to the bed and proceeded to slide out of her skirt. She figured he would enjoy removing her knickers. Besides they were a pretty blue lace. “I’m not picky as long as I get off at some point.”

“I shall do my best.” He smirked slightly.

This was fun. Most men were way too serious in bed. Especially the first time.

They got rid of Rum’s shirt and trousers so they were down to a level playing field. He went back to her breast to make up for the interruption.

When she started wiggling her hips his hand slid down to play with the edges of her knickers. “How do you like to, uhm, get there?” He asked.

“I don’t generally come just from fucking.” If he was going to ask, she would certifiably tell him. “Not without some stimulation before hand.”

“Fingers or would you like me to… uhm, use my mouth?” His voice trailed off.

For a shy guy, he did not seem to have much problem getting to the point. “If you’re offering oral, I’m not turning it down.”

“I rather like to.” He sounded embarrassed, but he was scooting down the bed to get level with her hips.

Together they pulled off her knickers. He kissed up the inside of her thighs, and then on to her folds.

“Yeah, that good.” She encouraged. As he tongue came into play, she squeaked.

“Good?”

“Fuck, yes! Don’t stop.” She was really learning to love that wicked grin he got.

He added a finger to what he was doing. She was rapidly losing the ability to concentrate. One thing she was sure of. “Rum, fuck me.”

At some point in the proceeding that she had missed he had already gotten the condom on. It took only moments to crawl up the bed and line them up. He slid into her slowly gauging her reaction.

Their height differences left them nicely face to face. She slipped her arms around his back and encouraged him. “That’s good. Keep going.”

His thrusts were too slow to start. But at, “Faster please.” He picked up the pace.

“Oh, God, Lacey. You’re so… It’s…” He kissed down her neck.

Words were overrated at this point. She wrapped her legs around his butt and crossed her ankles to get some leverage to push back against him. She was getting close. She could feel the pulsing that started her orgasm. “Yeah, like that.” She tightened around him as she came. Pulsing harder now. Her breath matching the pulses and making her light headed.

She crested and rode the end of the pulsing. Rum had stilled, but was still hard inside her. “Okay?” He asked.

“Fine fucking tastic. Go ahead.”

He kissed her some more as he got his rhythm back. He seemed to like her tightening her legs as he thrust, so, now she tried to match him. Even after her own finish he felt good pushing and then retreating. She was a little sorry when he lost the rhythm and finished.

He pulled out and rolled over before he softened enough for the condom to get loose. A gentleman to the end. She handed him some tissues from the nightstand. He used them to wrap the condom, but did not get up. Instead wrapping his arms around her and snuggling next to her side. “Thank you.” He whispered.

“I’d say it was a mutually beneficial experience, but your welcome.” She found she was smirking. She ran her hand up his back and found some scratches. “Crap. Did I do that? I’m sorry.”

“It actually added to the experience.” He admitted. “I didn’t realize I was into that.

“Uhm, will you stay?”

She found herself yawning. “For awhile. I don’t think my legs are up to carrying me back to my own room anyway.”

She was pretty sure he was still awake when she dozed off herself.

Something tickled her nose. She squirmed a little to get away.

“Lacey,” A voice said softly. “Lacey, you need to wake up. It’s 8:15.”

That brought her awake. Rum was sitting next to her on the bed. Shaved and dressed.

“8:15! We’re supposed to meet Nintendo at 9:00! I’ll barely have time for a shower and check out is at 11:00!” She jumped out of bed.

“I’ve got all the equipment packed up. You just need to get ready for the meeting.” He told her as she headed toward the door connected to her room. “And I’ve order breakfast. I hope a fry up is all right?”

“Sounds great.” She was famished. Apparently taking Rum to bed brought on an appetite.

He had not only packed up the equipment but had started putting her things into her suitcase. She grabbed clean undies and jumped into the shower.

There was not enough time to dry her hair properly, so she pulled it into a messy up do that suggested ‘I’ve been up to naughty things in Vegas’ without actually looking cheap.

She only had one clean outfit left so dressing required no decisions. She was just finishing her makeup when Rum knocked on her door and announced. “Breakfast is here.

“I ordered you a large juice. And uhm there’s aspirin if you need it.” He gestured toward the table.

“After a couple of glasses of wine? Rum, we didn’t even finish off that bottle. I’m fine.” She did down the juice. She was thirsty as well as hungry. Last night had been quite a work out is seems. “How about you?”

“Leg’s stiff but it will walk out.” He smiled shyly at her. “Otherwise I feel better than I have in a while.”

“Do you good to...” Something about the way he was looking at her caused her to do what she rarely did and censor her comment. Instead of ‘get laid’ she said, “...Let down your hair occasionally.”

The Egghead rep texted about meeting with them while they were signing papers with Nintendo. Which made them late and they had to rush to make their flight. So it was not until the flight took off that they had any time to themselves. Rum was rubbing his fingers together like he did when he spun.

Great. She was probably in for a ‘talk’. She really did not want to hear him ‘let her down gently’. He would probably use Neal as an excuse.

At least he bought her a beer before he started. “Uhm, so about last night? Was that a one off, what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas or uhm, are we… dating now?”

That did not sound like he was bailing on her. “Would you want to? Date I mean.”

He ducked his head, but was glancing at her from behind his hair. “Yeah. Uhm, but if you don’t I’ll understand. And not let it effect our work. You’re too… important to the business now to let… personal issues… confuse things.”

So at least she did not have to worry about her job if she turned him down.

Thing was she had come to like Rum. He was a friend. And last night had not been half bad. Any man who offered oral without prompting was probably trainable.

“I wouldn’t mind trying things out.” She decided. “I’m not promising forever or anything, but we can see where things go. If you want.”

“I’d like that.” He took her hand. And held it even after he dozed off with his drink only half finished.

It was incredibly cheesy, but Lacey let him keep holding on. Even going so far as to move his drink so he would not spill it accidentally while he slept. He probably needed the sleep. He was not used to the late nights they had kept at the conference.

And looking after programmers was what a good project manager did. It had nothing to do with the fact that he looked kind of cute sort of half curled around their joined hands.

Cause she was not sentimental school girl. Nope. Not her.

The end.

#Ifishouldvanish #Rumbelle Christmas in july #Have You Tried Turning It Off and On #rumbelle fic #rcij

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