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adventuringblind · 3 months

Text

Deserving

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Genre: hurt/comfort

Summary: while she falls into the pit of her mind, Charles is there to pull her out.

Warnings: mentioned self-harm, anxiety, toxic media, mentions of addiction

Notes: A Nonny request, I hope you like it!! This one is definitely an insight into how my brain works.

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Everyone says rookie years are the hardest. Which, she won't say everyone is wrong, just that she also had consistently bad years. They blend into each other now. A never-ending cycle of the same lame excuses as to why she's so downcast.

She's a rookie driver and having a pretty decent season. Logan and Oscar are two of her closest friends. She's dating Charles Leclerc of all people.

So why is that piece of her brain still nagging at her? Years of therapy and help hasn't done the trick. The stinging still pushes through to the front of her mind.

The habit started so young. It was a distraction from the pain of whatever she'd been going through at the time. A means to satisfy her the voices in her head. Now it's to remind her she's still alive. That the media hasn't shattered her already frail will to live quite yet.

Everything in her wants to just... stop. Everyday she's reminded that her place is somewhere else. Not in the car, not with Charles, not even on the planet.

It doesn't matter that she's having a good year, that the car is good, or that she has people who love her. The voices always come back in those dark hours when she's alone.

She staggered herself in the beginning. Enough that her physio wasn't catching on. She lived in Charles' hoodies, and he thought nothing of it. Just another source of comfort.

He'd seen the faded scars, asked her about it every occasionally. He never pushes her to talk about it.

She doesn't deserve Charles, or anyone for that matter. Mentors, family, friends, they are all to wonderful for her to drag them down into her misery. The constant pity party she throws herself has no guests, only her and her demons.

Redbull isn't the best environment for someone as fragile as her. Despite the boosts of confidence Christian gives her daily and the constant reassurance from Max, she doesn't feel like she deserves it. The media is eating her alive. The next teammate to be crucified to Redbull and Mad Max.

It's starting to become noticeable again. The lack of sleep and covering clothes. Charles is skeptical and keeps reassuring her she can talk to him.

If she does that, he'll leave. Her mind can't take being alone yet.

Max is the first to catch sight of the new lines adorning her wrist. He asks if she's alright, but again, nobody pushes for more. Maybe if they did, she would break. Her fragile walls would come tumbling down.

Oscar is the next to push. A good friend of hers and they've both had good seasons. He and Logan show up one night with comfort food and cards. It manages to make her smile like when they were younger.

But they have to leave eventually. The voices swallow her whole the second she's alone again.

Charles finally pushes for answers. He finds her alone, body slumped along the hotel bathroom wall. She's exhausted, but manages to give a crooked, tired smile.

He crouches down in front of her and looks at the fresh line on her thighs. Bandages are something she has readily available, and Charles knows exactly where to find them.

He works quietly, just humming softly as he patches her up. It's a classical song that he listens enough that she knows the tune but not the name.

Charles dresses her into comfy clothes and tucks her into bed. A hand plays with her hair and strokes her cheek.

She doesn't deserve him.

"Tell me what's eating away at you, chéri. Please, I hate that you won't talk to me."

She scoots her body closer to Charles so she doesn't have to see his face. "Just hard - I guess."

"It's okay to have hard days. It's okay that you feel the way you do. But this thing, hurting yourself, is not the way to make it better."

"I know that, Charlie!" Her voice cracks at saying his name. "I just can't help it."

Those fragile walls she has come tumbling down. The pit of despair finally swallows her, and she can't stop the tears.

It hurts. Her head, her heart, her bones, it all hurts. She falls and shatters, but Charles is here to put the pieces back together.

"I don't deserve you. You're everything people love, and I don't want to drag you down with me."

"Who put that idea in your head?"

"The voices," She sniffles. Her words muffled when Charles pulls her into his chest.

"Well, the voices are incorrect. I, of all people, know what it's like for the media to pick you a part. Whether it's appearances, my driving, my relationships, they will always find something." Charles pulls her back just a bit, enough for him to make eye contact. She hates how his eyes are as glassy as hers. "You don't have to suffer all alone, in silence. You have people around you that understand and want to help. None of us are asking for perfection. We - I - don't want to see you hurting so much."

"What if it's too much?"

"Then we figure it out together."

She falls asleep in Charles' arms. Tears soak into everything, but he doesn't tell her to move. He comforts, because Charles loves her.

She has people who want to be there for her. Yes, slips happen, healing is never straightforward, but she can try. She can lean on Charles, let him love her; let him be the steady rock she needs in her life.

"Progress chéri, not perfection."

"You sound like all team principles."

"And? It's a good saying!"

Charles pulls a laugh out of her. A genuine laugh at something that isn't even funny. She blames her love for him.

"Maybe I do deserve you."

"If this is an insult, I'm taking all the covers tonight."

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dilfth1rster · 17 days

Note

I was wondering if you could do some smutty head cannons about Dean Winchester

Hi anon this is my first head canon like this, hope you enjoy it and if you want to further explore it, you know where to send me a request:)

Let's start with Dean is definitely a kinkyyyy himbo...

He's very dirty minded, any conversation that sparks as something a little sexual is like poking a bear with a stick. You never know what can trigger him.

I surely see him as both a dom and sub depending on a situation and or his mood. He doesn't see gender and would fuck anyone.

Nice chick in shorts a little too revealing? ... Yeah he would definitely try to hit that.

An older guy that gets a little too touchy after a couple of beers? Dean, umm- WOULD!

As of what he's into, it's a damn wide spectrum.

Starting with dress up... He loves that damn wild west cowboy shit. He loves getting in his cowboy boots and hat and a fringy jacket which also activates a dominant confident side in him.

He loves dominating and being dominated.

VERYYYY verbal whether it be about how nicely his big cock slides into you or how he degrades you and calls you his dirty cumwhore OR- how he pants in your ear while ramming into your ass with a speed of lightning.

He can NEVER decline a blowjob, he loves that shit. With him, it's more of a deepthroat or a "skullfuck" because he'd be holding you down on his wide 7 inches till u smelled the musky trimmed bush of his and later on definitely got lightheaded...

While I already mentioned his musk, I must add that his usual body smell is sweat mixed with a strong woodsy cologne and "leftover" whisky.

Dean appreciates when a lady shaves down there but he's a wild one for a hairy cunt as well as a bushy, hairy guy.

Loves high heels and "girly" accessories especially pink ones.

Is not scared nor intimidated by being called or referring to himself as Daddy.

Knows you're obsessed with his hands and loves helping you get wet by putting his chubby fingers in your mouth/throat.

DEAN WINCHESTER LOVES RISKY/OUTDOOR SEX!!!!!!! (includes public places such as dirty bar restroom which leads me to another thing that is...)

Unprotected sex. He's not friends with condoms, loves breeding you, and seeing his cum ooze out of you... and he CUMS A LOT.

He also loves getting bred by older guys(daddy issues I guess).

If you're okay with it:

He's definitely into watersports. Would love to piss on you, in his words "mark" you as his and degrade you.

Slap and choke you around(a little manhandling never hurt nobody huh?)

Make you worship his boots as a sign of your ultimate submission.

(let me include an image because it's getting hot in here...)

If it's longer than a one night stand he'd definitely want to cuckold you and make you watch as he breeds and destroys another young chick he met at the bar and brought to the motel room. Maybe if you're nice enough and behave he'll let you lick the juices off his cock after?

This man got a thing for piercings, belly button one that pops out from under your top, lip piercing or ESPECIALLY tongue and tits pierced... GOD DAMN!

Sex with him is usually fast paced(I say usually because from time to time it's not fast, IT'S DAMN RAPID)

SO... CUM-

we estabilished that mans got a breeding kink but well- Dean also loves cumming in your mouth and watching you swallow his sweet, chunky load, as well as painting your whole face in his seed.

If he's titty-fucking you he can explode directly on them.

If he's with a guy he enjoys getting bred and getting his face painted.

OH AND I ALMOST FORGOT-

This guy is a goddamn foodie, he loves to eat his sweet treats like the well known pie and such... he also loves to incorporate that into sex...

making you eat the pie he just came on or stuffing pieces of it into your pussy and eating you and IT out :)

Well- I think that's it for now. I'd love to further explore some of the aspect with you all, so if you got any questions or ideas, write away in the requests in my bio :)

(I'm a new writer so if you could like and reshare or leave a comment with your thoughts I'd really appreciate that)

#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean winchester fanfic #deanwinchester blurb #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester x reader #supernatural smut #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles headcanon #jensen ackles x reader #smut #male smut

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wonglix · 4 years

Text

➺ sᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴀs sᴜɢᴀʀ

⤷ baker!y/n x mingi

⤷ mingi was known for being somewhat of an outcast, not letting anyone get close to him. he also appears to have a particularly sweet tooth for your pastries (and you)

⤷ fluff

⤷ 3.5k words

mingi silently watches you pack up another customer's order, his eyes focusing on the warm smile on your face. the sweet smell that is prominent in the bakery is almost overshadowed by the sweetness in your voice and mingi has to blink a few times to snap out of his trance. once it was his turn, he quietly points to the strawberry-lime cupcakes. he skilfully avoids your eyes when you look up at him to ask how many; "six," his voice was calm, contrary to the excessive hammering of his heart in his chest. he doesn't know how it happened, how he became this infatuated with you. there is one thing he does know, though: he absolutely loves the sweets you make. the first time he got to eat one of your deliciously sweet treats was when you brought raspberry crumble bars to school after you made too many the previous day.

"mingi?" the sweet call of his name made him lift his head from his arms, surprise taking over his features when he realised that it was you standing in front of his desk. he stared up at you silently, making you awkwardly clear your throat, "i just wanted to ask you if you'd like some of the raspberry crumble bars i made?". he kept silent, staring at the small piece of dessert you were holding out to him. his silence began to make you nervous, anxiously pulling back, "i-it's fine if you don't want one, i'll just-"he stops your rambling by taking the crumble bar from you, making you look down at him in surprise, "thank you.". nodding enthusiastically you sent him a small, nervous smile.

you hurried back to your own desk, sitting down and eyeing mingi curiously. mingi had placed the crumble bar on his desk instead of eating immediately which, quite frankly, disappointed you a bit. you were excited to see his reaction, to see if he enjoyed it. you never got to witness it though, since mingi never ate it. that what you thought, at least. mingi had saved the treat for later and, unbeknownst to you, ate it on his bus ride home. mingi enjoyed it a lot, the sweet treat filling him with joy and excitement. he always had quite the sweet tooth, but he was convinced that he never had anything as sweet as that raspberry crumble bar from you.

mingi was just about to turn and leave the bakery when you suddenly called out to him, "uhm, mingi? could i talk to you for a second, please?" he's stunned and looks at you, merely nodding silently. a bright smile appears on your face, and you lean over the counter a bit, looking directly into his eyes. "my shift ends in 20 minutes, could you wait until then? just take a seat over there, and i'll come to you as soon as i can, yeah?". mingi didn't know what made him say yes, maybe it was the adorable smile on your face or the excited sparkle in your eyes. he went to sit down at the table you had pointed out previously. he was sitting there, occasionally letting his gazer avert from his phone to you, your eyes meeting more than once. every time your eyes met, you smiled at him, and mingi silently cursed himself for physically feeling his heart speed up every single time. he doesn't know what you want to talk to him about, but it reminds him of one of the few times you've spoken to him, a memory he holds dear to his heart.

he was sitting in the empty classroom, playing some games on his phone waiting for the lunch break to be over. he never really ate lunch, and even if he would, the atmosphere in the cafeteria was overwhelming and too much for him anyway. so he usually spent his lunch break in the classroom on his own, killing time by playing games, listening to music or sometimes even taking a little nap. mingi was so focused on his game that he didn't hear the classroom door opening and closing. neither did he notice the sound of the steps getting closer to him. it's no surprise that he let out a screech once he felt someone tap his shoulder, whipping his head around with a scared look on his face. he was met with your startled eyes, a guilty look on your face. "i'm sorry, i didn't mean to startle you.." you seemed to be legitimately sorry, a small pout forming on your face. mingi cleared his throat and adjusted his posture a bit, "it's... it's fine, don't worry about it." you smile and sit down at the desk next to him. he shifts his gaze from you back to his phone, only to return his eyes to you, growing shy when your eyes meet. "why are you sitting here all on your own?" you break the silence. he looks at you, trying to determine whether your question was serious or not. "i don't eat lunch. i also don't really have friends, so sitting in the cafeteria would be quite sad.". you let out a small giggle, mingi turning to look at you with raised eyebrows. "i'm sorry, it's just...i relate. it's weird sitting in the cafeteria on your own, so i get why you rather spend your time here.". mingi was quite surprised, he always thought that you got along quite well with your classmates.

"you said you don't eat lunch, right?" you sounded curious and genuinely interested in him. it was confusing for him. "um, yeah. i just don't really want to, that's all." you nodded quietly, brows furrowed a bit and thoughts obviously running wild. suddenly you got up and went to your own desk, rummaging through your bag. pulling out a lunchbox you walk back to mingi, sitting down again and looking at him with a smile, "i know you said you don't like to eat lunch, but could you try some of these chocolate brownies? it's a new recipe, and i don't really have anyone that could try them for me, so...". mingi stares at you in disbelief, letting out an airy chuckle, "are you serious?". the second those words left his lips he already knew the answer, your doe eyes looking at him with so much sincerity in them that it made him want to cry. or maybe kiss you, he wasn't sure at the time yet.

"sorry that i kept you waiting, here's chocolate milk for you," you panted out, obviously exhausted from hurrying to keep mingi from waiting any longer. he just shrugged it off, taking a small sip from the chocolate milk, watching you with expecting eyes. "the reason i asked you to stay is that i wanted you to try something for me.". mingi furrows his brows, "try something for you?" you nodded, placing a small box with the bakery's logo on it on the table. mingi reaches out to open it, but he stops in his tracks when you place your hand on top of his, his breath slightly hitching in his throat and he prays that you didn't notice. "there are a few new recipes i tried out and i want to show them to my boss, but i'm not confident enough. so i thought that i'd ask you to try them and if you like them, i'll introduce them to my boss," you muttered softly, your thumb unconsciously drawing circles onto mingi's hand. he can feel his palms getting sweaty again, his heart pounding in his ears and his throat getting dry. it's ridiculous how weak he got at every single small thing you did, but he just couldn't help himself; he was in love.

an hour and plenty of sweets later the two of you still sat at the table, small giggles and brave flirty comments being thrown around. mingi has no idea how this happens, how the two of you fell into such a comfortable conversation. still, he was more than happy that it happened. he knew that his cheeks were probably bright red and that you most likely caught onto his stuttering, but he honestly doesn't care anymore. he has been pining for you for so long, daydreaming about your pretty face and hoping that one day, he'll build up enough courage to finally ask you out. you smile, taking his hand in yours, "thank you for trying them, mingi. i'm glad you liked them, i was a bit worried, to be honest," you giggle a bit, a lovestruck smile creeping its way onto mingi's face at the sound. "they were all delicious. i wasn't expecting anything else though, your treats are always delicious," his voice was soft. because he felt confidence rush through him for a split second he softly intertwines your fingers, a blush dusting his cheeks. the way you smile at him, the blush that spreads from your cheeks to your neck makes him want to kiss you so bad it makes his head spin. "thank you.." your voice was quiet and soft, eyes sparkling and he doesn't know what to do with himself. now would be the perfect time to ask you out, you're so close, you're literally holding hands, and there's no way you'd say no right now, right?

his mind is racing and before he can even begin to think about all the possible ways to ask you out you speak up, "uhm, mingi? would you...would you like to come over to my place? we could make some sweets together since you like them so much..." your voice got quieter with every word, and it made his heart clench. if he wasn't so busy with trying to calm his pounding heart down mingi might've felt proud at the effect he had on you. he speaks up almost too quickly and too enthusiastically. he'll probably beat himself up over it later. still, right now there is nothing he wants more than for you to understand how desperately he wants to go on a date with you. "yeah, yeah, of course. i'd like that, a lot actually.." you smile, a breathy chuckle escaping you at the excitement in his voice, "i'm glad... i'll text you when okay? you remember where i live, right?" he wants the earth to open up and swallow him at the mention of the first and only time mingi has been at your house so far.

the very first time mingi ever set foot in your house was thanks to a project. when the teacher had mentioned that it would be a group project mingi had let out a sigh. it's no wonder that he was somewhat surprised when you called out to him, asking him if he'd like to work with you. how could he possibly say no to that? you smiled and went back to taking notes, leaving mingi to stare at you for a bit longer before he snapped back into reality. you slipped a small piece of paper on his desk, "here's my address and my number. just text me when you're free, alright?". you smiled and waved at him, leaving the classroom. he stared at the folded piece of paper for a while.

that evening he decided to text you, his palms sweaty and heart hammering against his chest. he had always envisioned it to be a nightmare even trying to get your number in the first place, and now that he had it, he didn't know what to do. what was he supposed to say? just a simple "hey"? should he be a little more serious, maybe a "hey. it's me, mingi."? he was overwhelmed, the fear of making a fool of himself nagging at him. gathering up all the courage he had left in that freakishly large body of his he grabs his phone and texts you a simple "hey". pacing around his room, anxiously waiting for an answer from you. and then you answered, making him almost jump out of his skin at the notification sound. it was only a mere "hey :)" from you, but he could've sworn that he felt his heart swell. he was definitely infatuated. you agreed that it would be best if he came over on the weekend and mingi couldn't be happier. perhaps it was wrong to feel like it could be a date, but he was just too excited and in love to think appropriately.

and then saturday came. mingi had changed his outfit several times, struggling with finding something that made him feel comfortable. at some point, he just gave up. he was anxiously playing with his fingers the whole way to your house while trying to come up with conversation starters and things to talk about. mingi stood in front of your home and took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell. not even a minute later you opened the door, greeting mingi with an excited smile on your face.

you worked on your project relentlessly, not much talking going on between the two of you. mingi kept glancing at you from time to time, panic settling within him when you looked up only to find him staring at you. you didn't really seem to mind though, kindly smiling at him each time and quietly going back to work.

"how about i get us some snacks?" you asked while putting down your pen, facing mingi. mingi nods, getting up with you to help when you suddenly turn and smile up at him, gesturing for him to sit back down, "you're my guest, mingi. sit back down, i'll go get it." a few minutes later you came back with a tray full of baked goods and drinks, mingi staring at you in awe. "i know you like sweets, so i made some yesterday. i hope you like them," your voice was so gentle it made mingi blush a bit. the two of you snacked on your treats in silence when mingi accidentally brushed against his cup, sending the drink flying all across the table - ruining your work. "oh..oh my god, i'm so sorry, i-," you interrupted mingi when you rushed to the kitchen, coming back into the living room with paper towels in hand. "y/n, i'm so sorry, i'll rewrite everything i promise, don't-," mingi abruptly stopped his rambling when he felt your hand on his shoulder, a kind smile on your face. "mingi, don't worry about it. it's no big deal, so don't beat yourself up about it, yeah?" how could you be so lovely? mingi didn't know if he should cry or laugh, your kindness catching him off guard once again. he just ruined hours of work, and you're as calm and gentle as ever.

mingi promised himself that he wouldn't make a fool of himself in front of you again. the memories of last time kept swirling around his mind while he was on his way to your house, making him cringe inside. while he was walking down the street, he noticed a small flower shop and stopped dead in his tracks. should he get you flowers? you didn't say that it was a date, but it really feels like one. what if you don't think of it as a date, though? he would look like a total creep turning up with flowers. mingi was unsure and kept going back and forth, settling for a small bouquet of flowers. incase you got weirded out he was absolutely prepared to backtrack and play the bouquet off as a late apology for the last time he came around.

when you opened the door for him, mingi had to keep himself from letting out a small gasp - you looked so pretty, heart melting at your excited smile. he just stared at you, only snapping out of his admiring state when you cleared your throat, looking at him with raised eyebrows and a small, confused smile playing on your lips. "oh! uhm, i-i brought you flowers," he held out the bouquet to you, your eyes sparking when you took them from him. "thank you mingi, so much," you said with excitement in your voice, looking at him with the prettiest smile he's ever seen. leading him inside you beeline for the kitchen, mingi following close behind you.

"i prepared a few different recipes, so i’ll just let you choose. we could make some apple pie bites, strawberry cheesecake, a peach crumble-" your rambling was incredibly endearing to him, a content smile playing on his face. he wasn't really listening anymore, he'd be happy with anything if it was made by you. and making it with you together? there's nothing more he could ask for. "mingi?" he blinked a few times, looking at you. you were looking up at him with an expectant look on your face. "i'm fine with anything, really," he tried his best to make his voice sound confident. you smiled and went to the refrigerator to get the ingredients. "let's make some dark chocolate cookies with some orange then, alright?". mingi just nods, watching you place multiple different components on the counter. "y/n, i have to be honest...i can't really bake? or even cook, for that matter," his voice dragged a bit at the end. you turned to him, shrugging a bit, "it's fine, don't worry about it. im here to teach you, aren't i?" there was a certain playfulness in your voice made a small grin creep its way onto his face. he was enjoying this laid back atmosphere a lot, his earlier panic and anxiety forgotten entirely.

mingi doesn't really know how it happened. approximately one hour later you were both covered with flour from head to toe, chocolate splatters all over the kitchen and breathless giggles sounding throughout the room. it all started out normal with you explaining the different steps of the recipe to mingi while he was listening intently. at some point he accidentally knocked over the bag of flour, thoroughly dusting you in the white powder. he expected you to go and clean yourself, maybe even make his heart flutter by being an absolute angel again. what he didn't expect was for you to grab a handful of the flour that was spread on the counter, throwing it in his face with small giggles pouring out of you. he was dumbfounded and stared at you, letting out an airy chuckle in disbelief. using his stiffness to your advantage you scoop up some more flour, ruffling his hair. "oh, it's on!" he exclaimed eagerly, dipping his finger into the melted chocolate and smearing it over your cheek. you yelped and jumped back, trying to dodge his chocolate-covered fingers; to no avail. your small food fight lasts for all of 20 minutes, both of you giggling out of breath.

"guess we won't be making cookies today, huh?" mingi's voice was teasing, making you burst out in laughter. "yeah, seems like it. this was more fun than actually baking anyways," you chuckled while wiping some of the flour-chocolate mixture off your cheek. mingi stared at you with a radiant smile on his face, making a small blush creep onto your cheeks. "what is it?" you giggled a bit, looking at him with curious eyes. mingi knew that this was his chance.

"can i kiss you?" his voice was soft, barely above a whisper and it took you a second to confirm that you heard him right. your heart was pounding, and you couldn't keep the shy smile from forming on your lips. too shy to answer him verbally you just nodded, stepping a bit closer to him. delicately taking your face into his hands, he looks into your eyes, and he feels his heart swell at the adoration swimming in your pupils. he was such an idiot for waiting this long, but now he finally has you. your eyes flutter shut as he gets closer and you can feel your heart jump when his lips touch yours. his lips taste a bit of chocolate, making the kiss even sweeter than it already was. he looks at you with so much affection when he pulls back and smiles down at you. growing shy under his gaze, you lower your face, eyes set on the floor. his gentle fingers lift up your chin, and before you can react, his lips are on yours again. breaking the kiss, he slings his arms around your waist, noses touching when he gently whispers to you, "i like you, y/n. so much." you blush again, a shy smile on your face as you look up at him. wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him a bit closer, lips almost touching, "i like you too, mingi.". you press another soft kiss to his lips, and you can feel him smiling, his arms wrapping themselves tighter around you to pull you even closer.

mingi loves sweets, but there is nothing as sweet as your love.

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fritae · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece (Chapter 12)

Closer.

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

a/n: i really like this chapter heh, hope u enjoy! 😚

The staircase leads all the way to basement. I wondered why they would hide such steep, hidden steps in Dabi's office when they could create (much) shorter, more accessible ones from the first floor.

But I'm guessing that's the point.

This isn't supposed to be easy to reach. And Dabi's office is the one place no one would dare enter.

Aside from us, of course.

The basement is completely dark, forcing me to draw myself even closer to Dabi. I enjoy the weight of his hand in mine. He has a firm, tight grip. But just as the thought warms my cheeks, I shake it out of my head.

Within seconds, Dabi turns on the lights.

My eyes widen, taking in the sight before me.

Blood.

A lot of it.

Though it looks dried, like it's been there for ages.

I spot a wall of different sized knives on one hand. A gun display on the other. A shelf of jars, filled with a murky looking liquid and...I don't even want to know what that is inside.

Dabi watches me.

There's a simple, plastic white table in the center of the floor with a large white board behind it.

The place is much messier and less...classy, than the rest of the Blaze.

But I have the feeling it's because it's not meant for outside eyes.

"You okay?" Dabi asks.

I nod, squeezing his hand to comfort myself.

Before the others reach the bottom, he whispers in my ear, "Whenever you want to leave, let me know. You don't have to be here."

"Okay."

"And," He takes another glance at the stairs as the others begin to appear. "Again, Rina. This place does not exist. Anything we say here does not leave this room. Got it?"

I glance warily at the knives.

"Why are you so worried?" I try to smile so he doesn't pick up on my nervousness. "I don't have anyone outside of you guys anyway. Who would I talk to?"

My comment seems to confuse him. "What about-"

"Welcome to the League!!" Toga jumps off the last few steps and swings into full view.

I shoot Dabi a look. "The League?"

"The League of Villains, of course!" Atsuhiro follows Toga, a dramatic grin on his lips. "Only the baddest group of bad boys in town."

"And girls!" Toga calls out.

"League of Villains?" I cackle. "Who came up with that?"

Tenko scowls.

Oop.

Dabi lets go of my hand and motions for me to take a seat on one of the plastic chairs.

I pick a red chair near the board.

"So what is that you guys really do?"

"I told you," Dabi says. "Special services to people willing to pay up."

Given where we are, that suddenly feels a lot more sinister than it did when he first told me.

I look back at the knives and jars in the background.

"So like, a gang? Where you steal things and hurt people if someone pays you enough? Like the movies?"

"Guess you could put it that way."

"And there's actually people that pay for this stuff?"

Dabi shrugs. "It's a niche market."

Woah.

There's a lot more questions in my head, but now is not the time. Maybe later.

As Dabi moves to take a seat, his abdomen brushes against the edge of the table and he hisses in pain.

It releases blood again.

"Fuck!" He grips the skin.

I move closer to him, gripping his hands again. "It still hurts?" I ask worriedly. "Is there anything we can do?" I look around at the others quickly.

"Yes!" Toga says, a little too eagerly.

"What is it?"

She hops over to knives behind us, and takes a moment deciding which one she wants.

She brandishes a short but sharp blade and lets out an excited squeal, as though she enjoyed this.

"Fire please!" She calls out.

What's she doing?

Dabi groans and pulls a lighter out of his pocket. He tosses it toward her, and she carefully holds it under the edge of the blade, running it up and down for several minutes until it turns red.

She's going to seal the wound so it doesn't get infected.

"Lie down, boss," She says in a sing-song voice.

I clear the few papers were scattered on the table and move so Dabi could spread himself over it.

He lifts the edge of his shirt to his midriff, and my breath catches in my throat when I see his abdomen.

The skin is covered in large swaths of reddish purple.

Like parts of it were burnt off...

I gasp.

"These are old," Dabi looks at me. He's watching me carefully, wanting to see just how I'd react. "Still want to be here?"

I swallow my anxiety as I stare at Dabi's mismatched skin. I won't give him the chance to say 'I told you so.'

This must be why he wouldn't let me dress the wound.

He didn't want me to see this.

No wonder the stab didn't phase him.

What else has his body been through...

"Here I come!" Toga grins.

She was all too eager to take the scorching knife and press it to his stomach.

Dabi clenches his teeth immediately, leaving me to hurriedly stand next to him. I squeeze his hand to soothe him, but he grips mine back so hard I think he might break it.

I brush his hair out of eyes and press my hand to his forehead to calm him.

"It's okay," I tell him softly. "It's over."

The others stare at Dabi's wound uncomfortably, like they've been under Toga's knife before.

I wonder if they have similar wounds.

Dabi releases his harsh grip on my hand and begins to breathe slower.

One things strikes me though.

Despite all the pain he's undoubtedly feeling right now, not a single tear drops from his eyes.

I think it might just be him trying not to appear weak in front of us.

But as I look into his eyes, I'm surprised to find them completely dry.

"Are you superhuman or something?" I joke with him.

He looks at me quizzically.

"All of that and you didn't cry?"

Dabi closes his eyes. "I don't cry." He grits his teeth.

I roll my eyes.

Whatever you say.

The others slowly help him sit up straight. I take the first aid kit from Atsuhiro, picking out the cotton, gauze and antibacterial wipes.

Dabi is less reluctant when I try to wrap the area this time.

"You can hold onto me if you want," I tease as I wrap the gauze around his body.

A small smirk appears on his lips. His arm suddenly snakes around my waist, pulling me close to him.

I blush and the gauze falls out of my hands.

Dabi tilts his head. "What's wrong? Thought you wanted me to hold onto you?"

The guys snicker behind us.

I push him away from me, and he laughs as I take another piece of gauze and try again.

"You guys can talk now," I tell them focused on what I'm doing. "What exactly happened today?

Did Mr. Lane find out about the League? Is that what made you a target?"

Dabi is silent.

His silence puzzles me. I look to the others to see if they knew anything.

"Dabi tried blowing up his car!" Toga volunteers.

I frown.

Could this be just because of how Mr. Lane treated me?

No. There's no reason for it to mean that much to Dabi.

Enough to get angry, sure.

To harm Mr. Lane?

Doubtful.

"Why would you blow up his car?" I ask.

Tenko pulls up a chair. "We did some research on him. He's working with some really shady people. And Dabi told us about the whole Todoroki affair."

I shoot Dabi a look.

"They're trying to trick people into thinking they're heroes. That they should be put on a pedestal and admired. There's people out there telling their kids to be like them. Meanwhile they're going around-"

"Enough," Dabi interrupts Tenko. "Point is, they're fakes. They built up their media empires off that fake image. And we're going to expose them."

"But you guys are also doing...you know," I don't know how to say it in a way that isn't offensive. "I mean, you tried blowing up his car. And I'm guessing you probably have done more...if I'm not reaching."

Their eyes harden.

"We never pretended to be good."

I know I should stay silent, but I keep going.

"Right, but you have a double image too. There's the Blaze, and then there's the League."

They shake their heads.

"The Blaze is to funnel money into the League. Yeah, sure it's a front, but those who need our services know where to find us. We can't have masses of people finding out about the other shit we do, can we?"

"But how did this all start? What are you trying to achieve?"

"We just hate hypocrites. We'll help a bad guy to bring down a worse guy. Those that act like angels in public are our favorite targets. I don't care if we have to steal, blackmail, or kill them," Dabi's eyes shine with evil. "Whatever it takes to beat their egos down. Reveal the private faces they hide. Until they're forced to show their bloody hands before the world. Someone like Enji is using Lane for media coverage. Lane is depending on him for protection and cash. We can take them both down."

"What if you get caught?"

He dismisses the question, like it's not even worth his time. "By who?" He scoffs. "Lane? As soon as we take down Enji, Lane's done for. Since he's your old boss, we can give you leeway with how badly you want us to go after him." Dabi says this like that's what I'm genuinely concerned about right now. "Lane's a scared little prick anyway, as soon as he saw me he bounced out of the car and screamed for protection." He laughs like he can picture Mr. Lane's pathetic position as we speak. "But he'll fall. Just like the rest of them."

"I meant the police, Dabi."

The question puzzles him as if he's never considered it before. But the look in his eyes tells me they're even less of a concern than Mr. Lane.

"Don't worry about that," He says. "That's the least of our problems, to be honest."

I nod.

I let them speak uninterrupted for the rest of the night. They have business to take care of, and if I keep asking questions like this, they'll never get to finish. It's enough that they waited all day for me to leave so they could start. Can't hold them up at night as well.

The Todoroki name was brought up several times, among others. It seems strange now, considering Dabi knows it was Mr. Lane's relations with Enji that led to me leaving the company the way I did. Turns out he knows a lot more about Enji than I do.

I try to keep track of the other names as well, but there's so many and I'm so tired, I can barely keep up.

"Here's where Rina comes in," Dabi continues.

My eyes widen at the mention of my name.

"Enji's using Lane for his image. Rina, you said they were working on a movie or something?"

"A documentary, yes."

"We need to make sure that shit doesn't air."

I bite my lip, trying to remember as much information as I could about the documentary. It was supposed to air already. I remember Mr. Lane saying it would be within the month.

But it hasn't yet.

Which means I need to find out more from Al.

"My roommate still works at NNTV. She's the floor manager so she might have some idea of what's going on. I can ask her."

"You sure you can trust her?" Dabi asks with a frown.

"Well, I'm not gonna tell her any details, she's the one that's gonna need to have trust in me, no?"

Atsuhiro cracks his knuckles and rubs his neck. "I don't know, I don't like the sound of that. We have our own ways of finding stuff out so-"

"It won't hurt to try," I insist, looking at Dabi since he's the one that has final say on these matters. "Having 2 avenues of information is better than 1."

Truth be told, I just want to feel useful. I want to feel like I have a role to play, not just that I'm here to "sit and watch".

I want them to feel good about me being here, not apprehensive about whether this was a good decision.

After some deliberation, Dabi sighs. He looks to the others for input. "Might as well?"

"I mean she's here," Tenko says monotonously. "Might as well use her."

Dabi nods and then turns to me. "Just don't be stupid with it. Lead her into the conversation, don't bring it up out of nowhere. She'll be curious about why you're bringing it up. Don't say anything that'll make her ask questions. The more questions she asks you, the more suspicious she'll be."

"Relax guys, I got this." I smile. "Besides, she's a chatterbox. She'll open up at the slightest nudge and go on forever. She's the one that told me about all the.." I grimace. "..issues with the Todoroki company."

Plus, she's my friend! Of course, I can trust her. We've been roommates for years. If anyone could tell me about Mr. Lane's current plans for the documentary, it'd be her.

"So it's settled!" Toga claps. She takes a marker and goes up to the white board, drawing a flow chart with all that's been discussed today. She adds my part last, circling my name and underlining it several times for emphasis, over a big red INTEL SOURCING.

The sight of that makes me smile, like I have a role to play in all of this. I look around at the others but they're all preoccupied with moving things around and discussing their own parts.

The lack of enthusiasm isn't surprising, I mean this is normal for them.

But all I can think of is how exciting it'll be if I have something to contribute the next time we meet. If they'll call me down, and look at me expectantly. I imagine the looks on their faces with glee and the thought almost makes me giddy.

"Okay, are we done here?" Dabi asks.

A bunch of 'yes'es and 'yup's fill the basement.

"Alright then," Dabi grabs a leather jacket from on the wall and checks to make sure his keys are inside. Then he walks my way and grabs my arm.

"Time for you to go home," He says, moving me in front of him.

"But-"

"Now," His eyes narrow. He moves his head in a silent nudge, telling me to turn around and make my way upstairs.

The others watch us curiously, and Toga lets out a snicker at my expense.

"I'm jealous!" She calls after us. "Wish I had someone to drive me home!"

Dabi groans, nudging me to keep moving.

"Bye guys," I wave back at them from halfway up the steps. "I'll see you tomorrow!"

They all wave warmly and I can't help thinking how grateful I am that they trusted me with this.

It feels so weird emerging out of Dabi's office like this, from a secret path that leads deep under the building. But Dabi simply presses another tile in the walls, and the entrance reseals itself, as though it never existed.

We make our way to his car, and I hurry to catch up to him. The height difference certainly doesn't help.

He unlocks the car and slides into the driver's seat. I follow into the passenger's seat and shift awkwardly in my place.

"Where do you live?" He asks as he readjusts his rearview mirror. No sooner had I told him the address, than he revved the engine and sped away from the Blaze.

The ride is quiet for a while. Regrettably so. Dabi hands me a box of disinfectants to wipe the blood off my hands. I wonder how many times he's had to do the same thing before coming into the office.

I fiddle with the hems of my shirts as I try to think of something to talk about. Dabi doesn't seem to be in as big of a rush to speak, his eyes darting from the rearview to the side mirrors periodically as we cruise down the mostly empty highway.

"Dabi?"

"Hm."

"When they said you were gone today, were you really in the basement the whole time?"

Dabi takes a moment to answer. "After I got back, yeah. Couldn't exactly walk through the front doors looking the way I did." He glances at me before switching lanes.

"Were you avoiding me?"

"Partly."

I nod. "Now that I know about the League, do you think you'd avoid me in a case like this again?"

"A case like this won't happen again."

"Okay." I respond quietly. "Cause you know I get worried."

Dabi seems to be deep in thought.

"You worry a lot for someone who's only met me a month ago."

I smile. "Well, of course. We're friends aren't we?"

Dabi spares me a look before switching lanes again. "Right." But he doesn't look like he fully believes me.

"You think you'll be able to handle your friend?" He changes the subject.

"Who, Aliyah? Of course! I told you, we're really good friends and she's the kind of person that loves gossiping anyway. It'll be a piece of cake."

He grunts. "Okay. Because to be honest, that's part of why I wanted you at the Blaze."

I don't know why hearing that makes me feel slightly sad, but it does. "The documentary?"

"Yeah. I mean you work in the media industry. You'd know about that stuff. People like Enji have the industry wrapped around their palms. When you told me he was cozying up to NNTV, I figured you'd be the person to handle all of that for me."

I nod. "So why haven't you asked me before today?" Come to think of it, he even sounded reluctant about agreeing.

"I don't know," He sighs. "Still not sure I want you mixed up with all of this."

I roll my eyes. "I'm not even a member, remember? I'm just getting information for you," I tease. "What's so dangerous about that?"

"That's what worries me," Dabi glances at me, his brows pulled together. "That's all you see it as."

"What am I supposed to see it as?"

"What it is," Dabi gets increasingly agitated, but he tries to keep himself calm. "I'm not sure you're taking this seriously enough, Rina. The closer you get to us, the more at risk you are. The more people that know you work for me, especially what kind of work," He looks dead serious. "The more danger you'll be in."

I roll my eyes. "But no one knows anything about you, Dabi. I've been here for a month and I'm only just finding out about all of this. And I'm sure there's much more I don't know. How would people outside of the League even find out?"

"Same way we find out shit about them. Lane's using his Todoroki connections to supply him with information and protection. They're good at what they do."

My mouth drops. "You mean the Todorokis know about you?"

"Well," Dabi's jaw hardens. "They think they do."

I wait for him to say more, but he leaves it at that. We ride the rest of the distance in silence.

Once we pull up in front of my apartment complex, I try to put a smile on my face.

"Thanks Dabi." I tell him as I unlock the door.

He nods without looking at me. "See you tomorrow."

Those words trigger me immediately and I let go of the handle.

"Don't say that."

Dabi looks confused.

"You said that yesterday and had no intention of seeing me." I cross my arms. "You broke your promise."

"Don't be dramatic, no one says that shit as a promise."

"See you tomorrow means I'll see you tomorrow," I tell him seriously. "Otherwise, just say goodbye or something else."

He leans his head forward against the steering wheel and sighs. "It's just a stupid phrase, you're overthinking it."

I frown.

"See you tomorrow," He gives up. But still, I don't leave.

"I mean it!" He says. "I. Will. See. You. Tomorrow. Good enough?"

I grin. "Mhm, thank you!" I lean over to give him a quick hug before I leave, and he immediately recoils, like my body was made of ice.

"Handsy, aren't you," He mutters, craning his neck to look at me, without getting too close.

I pull away.

"Always have to ruin the moment, don't you," I counter, slightly disappointed. I turn to open the door, and suddenly feel him pull me back in.

"How do you do that?" His voices comes out low and raspy.

I look into his eyes. "Do what?"

There's that frustration in his eyes again.

"Fucking making me feel bad about shit I'd never fucking feel bad about." He growls.

The way he says it makes me blush.

"Cut that shit out."

"Yes sir," I mumble.

He leans his head back.

Then, he hesitantly opens his arms.

I shake my head, pulling my purse over my shoulder again. "Not gonna force you to do something you don't want to do."

I open the door this time, and just as I'm about to step out of his car, he pulls my arm again - harder this time, and I fall back into the bend of his arm.

My heart is pounding faster. I shake my hair from my face to get a better look at Dabi in the dark.

"Why are you so much fucking work," He mutters, his face inches away from mine. I swallow.

He leans forward to hug me closer to his chest. The leather jacket feels surprisingly smooth against my cheek, and my hand finds the back of his seat to balance myself, careful of coming near his wound. He holds me to him for a few long breaths and I smile against his chest, knowing he can't see me right now.

When we pull away, I look at his face once more. But Dabi avoids my gaze.

"You don't have to play along with me," I tell him, a teasing smile on my lips. "I'll only expect more from you next time."

"See you tomorrow," He mumbles, still without facing me. His foot is on the brakes but he's already pulling the gear shift into Drive.

And then, just before I leave for good and with no time to think this through -

I press my lips on his cheek.

Dabi's eyes widen immediately and he looks at me in alarm. "What-"

"Bye Dabi!" I wave with a laugh as I hurry out of his car. I run to the door of my building, grateful for the dark to hide my red cheeks.

Dabi remains in front of the building for a moment, his head still turned my way in shock.

I close the door behind me but hurry to the window, peeking the corner of my head out just in time to catch him shaking his head and rubbing a tired hand across his eyes.

There's no way to describe the relief and warmth in my chest, when he eventually pulls out of his spot.

But just before he can drive off, I swear I feel him smirk at the window.

As if he can hear the adrenaline thrumming in my veins.

#dabi #touya todoroki #dabi x oc #dabi fanfic #dabi angst #dabi fic #dabi fluff #dabi x female reader #touya fluff #bnha fic #mha #bnha #league of villains #dabi is a todoroki #dabi is touya #touya x y/n #bnha touya #tw: mentions of blood

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themousefromfantasyland · 3 years

Text

The Yule Man (1/7)

As told by ME

This was meant to be a short story, but it became too big, so I separated it in seven parts. I want to turn my blog in a space where I can share my writting every once and a while.

This is the first time I post one of my stories on a public space. This is the first time anyone besides my sister will be able to read, so I'm pretty exciting and anxious. I want honest criticism. I hope you all enjoy it.

"It's he who brings the Yule ice and snow to Arnsberg." The little girl said.

Everything seemed somehow brighter and warmer on that peaceful afternoon.

The lines of holly hanged above the walls and windows gave an otherworld feel to the street. The jingle of the bells of the market down the avenue helped to remind how happiness sounded like. Silver bells adorned the rooftops. The traditional statues of silver stood on the churches’ terrains.

They promised that the Silver God would once again bless his holy season. The store windows promised an affable and cozy night. That was not what that beggar boy received.

The confectionery attendant shoved him away with all scorn and disdain possible in a man. Why did he should show him kindness? The boy couldn't pay, and he was so filthy dressed he would drive customers away. And as he said beneath his breath while coming back to the store:

"Magic only brings trouble."

Mia Hayek and her baby sister were stepping in their carriage when they saw the scene. The poor young man looked at the sweets in the windows of the confectionery with so much craving. He looked as if he hadn't eaten anything in a long time.

She took out her long wide hat and her cotton scarf and asked her sister if she knew that boy. The little girl, with all sincerity that a child is capable off, responded.

He had a slender and thin body, but the enormous, hooded fur coat worn swallowed it completely. He carried a huge bag of shabby cloth against his back. The fur hood and the cloth around his lower face made it hard to give him an age. Mia was sure he couldn't be older than twenty.

Everyone in Arnsberg knew the boy. Always seen wandering without destination in the Solstice Eve carrying that stained bag. He arrives in town no sooner than the first snow. He stays for the twelve days of the Yule Festival, then he disappears. And no one can find him before the next one.

Mia saw him in the last year. He lived near the park in front of the bakery. The baker shoved him away as if he was a stray dog. He has not changed a thing from then.

"He never changes." Sophia mindlessly added. "Even mother remembers him from her time. He never changes."

Mia stared at the boy. Ragged and disheveled. Time had devoured those clothes, tattered and grimy as they looked.

"Is he magical?" Mia asked.

"Yeah!" Her little sister nodded. "But he can only bring the snow, he can't control it. He's harmless."

"Stay here!" She told her.

Mia stepped out of the carriage and walked in the direction of the boy as fast as her boots allowed. Noticing being followed, he turned. She stopped in the spot.

The hood obscured his face. He maintained his back bended, and he avoided looking into her eyes. By the way he stayed quiet, she knew he was nervous. People dressed like her usually didn't had nice things to say to people dressed like him.

"You're beautiful!" He whispered to himself, hoping only he listened.

She smiled back.

"Thank you!"

She heard and he could only blush in response.

"Sorry, but I always see you around here during this time." She began saying while messing with her curly hair. "The town can get pretty cold. Do you have where to pass the night."

The boy chuckled, and she could see a vague spark in his eyes.

"The cold never bothered me anyway, madam."

"What do you carry with you?" She came forward and touched his long bag. It felt so freezing that she immediately withdrew as by sheer impulse.

He lowered the cloth that covered his face and looked up to her, allowing Mia to take a deep look.

"I... I should already release this thing, but... I got distracted. I wanted to find something to eat first, so..." He sounded so nervous, trying so hard to justify himself, as if fearing punishment.

His face was pale and soft, still with signs of boyhood. His eyes were big and innocent, in bright green. His beard was as red as a fox, and it was shaggy and full of pieces of ice.

"...and now I don't know where to release this stuff."

"Do you have where to spend the holidays?" She interrupted him.

"No." He answered embarrassed.

The question really pierced through him. She saw how it affected him in the wrong way. A second question slipped through her mouth before she could have time to re-evaluate it.

"Do you found somewhere to eat?"

He didn't respond.

She drew his hands, letting his bag land on the ground. It surprised her how soft and warm they were.

"Stay the Yule with us."

Mia could just have brought him food and then forget anything about him in the next day. Any normal person would do that. Maybe she felt a genuine urge to help him. Maybe her pity for him spoke louder. Perhaps she found him too adorable to let go. Whatever the real reason may be, something drew her to him.

"My father is wealthy, but generous. I'm sure he'll allowed it."

He smiled to her by a second, as if he loved the idea, but then he frowned, as if he remembered something.

"I'm sorry. You have been very kind, but I can't."

"Please!" She insisted, her voice cracking a little. "You can't spend the Yule in the streets and in the cold."

""I already used to it."

He forced a sly grin, as if trying to tranquilize her. He continued. "I'm sure you mean well, but it's better that I stay here."

"Our mansion is always open to those who need it, and you'll be well treated there."

"A mansion?" He frowned.

"My father is Mr. Hayek. My name is Mia Angela Hayek. Ravi de vous rencontrer." She greeted him with the dress.

"Never heard of him." He joked.

"Please, stay with us. We...

"Is it comfy..."

"What?" She asked surprised.

He spoke in a tone that made her think of a timid small boy.

"Your mansion. Is it comfy and cozy? That's how I always picture these places to be." He didn't want her to see he smiled.

"Of course." She nodded.

"Does it have a fireplace?"

"Yes. You can drink hot cocoa by it and eat some gingerbread cookies if you want."

"I never eat a gingerbread cookie."

"You can eat all sweets you wish. The kitchen has smelled wonderful since morning. My father is giving a big ball tonight. It will be so full of cakes and sweets. It will make even the most illustrious confectioneries envious."

Mia saw how much the idea pleased him, how much it tempted him to say yes. Yet, something held him back.

Against his better judgment, he said:

"Okay."

The air grew colder on that moment. The winter breeze brought chills down her spine. Whatever it was, the boy felt it too.

"But just for one night." He soon added.

"What's your name?"

"I don't have one." He said while pulling back his bag.

She tilted her head.

"How come you have no name?"

"Never needed one."

James Hayek had all the reasons to be jolly during the holidays. This son of immigrants became the most important merchant in all the North Kingdom. The Hayeks were the wealthiest mixed family in Arnsberg. This filled him with pride, but also a deep sentiment of duty. As a child of Arnsberg by heart he felt as his duty to retribute all his good luck back to the community.

The Hayek Mansion was a charming building located near the road down to Arnsberg, far close to the forest. Mr. Hayek certified himself that its doors would be forever open to the town that welcomed him.

It was the Solstice Eve. Tomorrow the Yule Festival would begin, twelve days of tradition and merriment. A gigantic fir-tree of nine meters was brought to the mansion's courtyard. The servants of the Hayek family surrounded its needles with all sorts of ornaments. They garnished the Yule Tree with silver, gold, and all kinds of jewelry. On its top, the Solstice Sun ornament promised to shine brighter than the real one. Not even Queen Ava's tree in the Royal Palace was as beautiful as the one who stood now in the Hayek Mansion.

Dozens of statues of goats surrounded the tree, all carefully made of pure straw. A somewhat forgotten tradition that Mr. Hayek couldn't let go in any capacity.

Two full tables had been already set. Roast turkeys and ducks, steamed hams and caramelized cods covered the first table.

The second table looked like a small child's fever dream. Colorful palaces of gelatin and chocolate sprinkled with sugar. Snowy towns and castles of gingerbread covered with white marzipan. Fountains and rivers flowing with chocolate. Towers of cakes and pies. Mountain chains of pudding with nuts and chestnuts boulders. It had enough to maddening the youth.

When Mia and Sophia arrived at the Hayek residence, the Yule Log had been already tossed into the fire. Both her and her sister helped the fur-cladded boy stepped out of the carriage. No sooner they crossed the golden gates, the servants already whispered between themselves. They couldn't help but gaze at the peculiar young man with awe and curiosity.

As soon as the girls walked upon the carpet in the living room, their parents rushed to speak to them. When Mr. Hayek first heard the news, he had to come to see it by himself.

"You brought the Yule Man?" He gave a strong laughter that came straight from the bottom of his belly.

The boy didn't know how to react, so he stepped behind the sisters and gave him an awkward smile.

Mr. Hayek was a cheerful and youthful old man. Mrs. Hayek could be the proudest woman the world has ever seen. She fitted the role of the women who dressed to show the world her social status. Her blue eyes had troubles showing affection. Her corn-like hair was stylized in the same way as the fashion magazines. Meticulously armed.

She approached Mia to talk in particular.

"You should be getting dressed." She spoke with veiled bitterness.

Mia tried her best to argue back.

"Sorry mother, I was doing shopping when..."

Her mother definitely didn't want to know. She twisted her eyebrows and said:

"Why are you so irresponsible. I'm tired of sorries. And what are you wearing for the gods' sake" She started yelling.

Mia swallowed her mother's sermons with her best poker face. Since she was a child, she knew how harsh Mrs. Hayek's criticism could be. Nothing different from the woman that searched for defects in everything.

"You know how this night is important. It's your first ball. My daughter shouldn't look like a hag." She took a pause to breath. "Go get dressed!"

Sophia came forward.

"Can the Yule Man spend the Yule with us?" She asked with manipulative eyes.

"You can't bring him here." She whispered while offering a false smile to greet the newcomer boy.

Fritz and Thomas, Sophia's elder brothers, looked at him with intense curiosity.

"Magic always leads to trouble." She put.

"Mother, he needs us." Mia shot back. "Besides not aging, there's not that much he can do. He is harmless."

"Mia, can you stop arguing..." Her mother tried to shut her down as she always did.

Mia had other plans.

"Father..." She turned to Mr. Hayek. "This is the true Yule Man. You can show him to the town's children tonight.

"I like children." His tiny voiced ricocheted off the living room walls. They turned to face him.

"They are nice to me." He said in a small tone behind them.

They almost had forgot he was still there.

"My dear, I don't know..." Mr. Hayek gazed at his unhappy wife.

"Remember when you were young and poor, and they chased you off that department store." She pointed to the boy. “They shoved him out of the confectionery as if he were nothing. He doesn't have where to spend the Yule days. He never had."

Mr. Hayek grew quiet. Not everyone had been nice to him. The way he looked had closed a lot of doors before. He promised to never take part in any judgment by appearances.

"You win." He winked at her. "Okay. Welcome to our Yule party Mr. Yule Man.

The boy looked at Mrs. Hayek. He saw her eyes steaming.

The guest started appearing around the evening. The parties in the Hayek Mansion always yielded weeks of conversation and gossip. They were more accessible than official public events. Open to everyone who wanted to participate. Thanks to that Mr. Hayek received the charming nickname of the "Father of the Poor." from his enemies. He liked it.

In her bedchamber, Mia wore a ballgown that had the color of the winter night sky. A low busted and short sleeved gown that drew attention to her silhouette. It was richly embroidered with snowflake patterns that surrounded her skirt. A delicate bow tied her curly brown hair back, drawing attention to her delicate face. Her strong red lipstick contrasted quite well with her light-brown skin tone.

When she went down the staircase. She gasped at how beautiful her house looked. Decks of holly, ivy and winter roses scattered everywhere. When the Yule Man saw her, he gasped at how beautiful she looked. He raced to her, still with his bag.

"Why are you still wearing this thing?" She pressed her lips together. She sounded just as her mother.

"Sorry If I was too rude. Do you like it?"

"No. No. I don't like this thing at all." He chuckled while eating a huge piece of marzipan with his free hand.

"So, why do you wear it?"

"As if I had a choice." He smirked.

He had finished his attack on the table of sweets. His mouth still was stained with sugar and chocolate. She noticed he had pockets in his suit, because they were full of gingerbread cookies and pieces of cake. The corners of her mouth lifted a smile as soon as she realized it.

When they arrived at the courtyard, the guests already crowded the place. The music had begun. The youthful couples already waltzed together amid the chatter of their families. That scene never failed to fill Mia's eyes, and now she could be officially a part of it. Her first ball as a woman.

She saw her mother approaching.

"What are you wearing." She yelled in her lowest tone.

Mia stood in her defensive position.

"Mother, you promised I could pick my own dress."

Mrs. Hayek exhaled.

"Yeah, I did. You look beautiful."

Mia smiled in relief.

"You too mother."

"You look perfect, and it's Yule, but don't exaggerate on the food." She laughed. "You know how the woman in our family have problems with weight."

Mia forced a yellow smile as a good daughter. As soon as her mother departed, the boy tried to cheer her.

"That was close. You survived the attack of the amazing shrew. Good job."

Mia laughed out loud. He felt proud with himself.

The children on the place couldn't stop looking at him with amazement. She turned to him.

"You don't really have a name?"

His smile disappeared.

"No."

He tried to physically walk out of that social interaction. She followed him.

"Do you at least have parents or relatives?"

He spent a couple seconds thinking.

"I don't know. I believe that I don't."

"Where you go when you aren't in Arnsberg? Do you visit other cities?"

"I prefer not to think about that." He said as politely as he could.

"Can I ask about the bag?" She joked.

He handled the bag over to the other hand.

"Nope!"

He really didn't like the direction of that conversation.

"Can I least ask you about the beard? Do you like it?"

He stopped. He looked at her.

"Not even a little." He laughed. "It's shaggy, it scratches, and it annoys me so much."

"Why you don't shave it?"

"As if I had a choice."

That was getting on her nerves.

"Why wouldn't you have a choice?"

He looked deep into her eyes.

"Because only real people have a choice."

On that same moment, a man wearing a red fur cloak and carrying a sack full of toys and stepped out of the servant’s door. The children gasped and cheered his presence and rushed in his direction. The adults were left amazed. Santa Claus had arrived. By his side, a very tall man came closer, wearing a wooden goat mask and wearing a very thick coat. On his hand he carried birch branches. The children surrounded them in seconds. The Goat-masked man asked in his spookiest voice if they had been nice or naughty that year. Santa had already start delivering the presents to all the children.

Mia nudged him.

"It's my father. He lives by the Yule Festival." She boasted. "He loves to dress like Santa. He's the only black St. Nick in the town."

"I find funny how you always seem to agree that he's an old fat man in red."

He left her confused.

"Excuse me."

"St. Nicholas is way younger than that. And he drinks." He chuckled. "A lot."

She tilted her head and frowned.

"How can you tell? No one can see him."

He stayed quiet.

"Do you know the real Santa?"

He broke the silence.

"He's a good man. He's nice to me. The Yule Goat is bad. He's very bad. He beats children."

He nodded to the goat masked man. Mia saw that it unsettled him a bit.

"Calm down. It's just Edgar, our butler. He likes to scare kids, so every year he dresses like the Yule Goat."

All the kids after receiving their presents ran to his side. Mr. Hayek as the jolly saint came closer to Mia at said in direction of the young man:

"This man..." He certified himself to be heard by everyone. "...is the Yule Man. Today he will show us the magic of the Yuletide season."

The crowd turned and stared at him in intensity. The typical hypocrisy of mortals: They fear magic but can't lose a chance to see it close. The boy himself stayed quiet as a mouse in his spot.

Mia asked in his ear:

"Crowds make you nervous"

"Yep" He almost couldn't be heard.

"I realized."

He walked to the center of the courtyard without saying no more words. Near the fir-tree he tossed his bag on the ground. Mia attended all that closely.

He pulled the knot that tighten the bag closed and opened it. A single snowflake came out first. It flew like a white butterfly in the direction of the wind. Calm, gentle, beautiful. It shimmered like nothing else. Some of the children ran after it and tried to catch. A second came out, and third, and a fourth. The snowflakes then burst out of the bag, billions of them. Small bright crystals that looked more like pixie dust.

He opened his arms and allowed the endless wave of light blast off and fill the skies. The crowd clapped and cheered in a mad frenzy. Mr. Hayek couldn't believe his eyes.

Mia stood there, speechless. The sight took all her ability to think properly.

The Yule Man closed his eyes. He shook both hands together as quick as he could. The bright outburst ceased. The bag dissolved in icicles. As if the world's largest swarm, they dashed up, up into the sky, while the snow started to fall.

He turned back to them.

"And this...This is how the Yule snow comes to Arnsberg."

The crowd clapped in pure ecstasy. He exhaled relieved.

The kids chased him. The adults had troubles understanding what happened. Mia stayed quiet in her thoughts processing everything.

The north wind blew over them all. The boy felt the message sent to him down to his bones. A dark figure appeared in the corner. He knew there were consequences to be dealt with.

Mia searched for him when he appeared and shook her hand.

"I'm grateful for everything..." He started. "... but St. Nicholas saw me. I already violated too many rules."

And he ran away.

"What!"

She stayed behind, left speechless again.

Mia marched to her parents close to the mansion's entrance.

"Father, what did you said to him?"

She took Mr. Hayek by surprise.

"Nothing, I..."

Sophia stopped playing with the other girls and their new toys and walked to them.

"It was not him. It was the real Santa.

"Hey!" His heart broke. He said visibly offended. "How long do you know I am not..."

Mia interrupted him.

"Sophia, why are you talking about?"

"St. Nicholas came here to talk to him."

"How I didn't see him?"

She responded with such innocence that terrified Mia.

"He's invisible to you."

Mia rushed back inside and searched for him everywhere. She found him when he was getting nearer the front gate.

"Why did you leave?" She approached him behind pulled him by the arm. You said you would spend the night here."

"I can't. I simply can't. St. Nicholas talked to me...

"Santa? Santa threatened you?"

"No. St. Nicholas is nice to me." He argued. "Only a few like him are. The North Wind brought him here. He told him how I was breaking the rules. Different from him, I can be seen by mortals. He thinks it's not wise for me to get too close to them, to you."

He paused as soon as he realized how that sentence could be interpreted.

"To you guys, the mortals, your family." The awkwardness possessed his body.

Her forehead furrowed while pressing her lips together.

"What are the rules?"

He scratched his head and lowered it down.

"I arrive to Arnsberg by the first light of the Solstice Eve. I must leave before the first light after the Yule days are over."

Her expression lightened.

"So, you can spend the festival with us."

"Do you even listen to me?" He cried out loud.

She placed her hands over his shoulder.

"Listen, you will not violate any rules. As long as you left..." She gesticulated for him to continue it.

"Before the first light after the Yule days are over." He added.

"I know you liked here. So, what do you say.”?

"Mia, I can't."

She raised her voice.

"So, they want you to spend the holidays in the street?"

"I don't have a choice." His jaw clenched and he shut his eyes.

She drew him closer.

"Yeah, you do."

That simple phrase teared down his walls. He no longer felt the ground under his feet. His eyes teared up.

"Do you really believe that." He said in a cry voice.

She struggled to look him in the eyes now.

"I do." She smiled to him.

He closed his eyes.

"Okay, I will spend the Yule Festival with you."

He heard the wind blowing outside. A very bad omen indeed. For some Mia sensed butterflies on her stomach. She felt a sweet taste in her mouth. Something sweet and warm inside her chest.

"Okay, I will ask Edgar to lead you to the Guest room."

He shook his head.

"It isn't necessary. I hate giving people trouble. I can sleep anywhere."

She raised her eyebrows.

"But you need a name. Can I call you Christopher? I always found a beautiful name."

"Yeah, you can." His eyes twinkled while the corners of his mouth quickly turned up.

She stepped closer.

"Happy Yuletide, Chris!"

#christmas #holiday season #yuletide #my writting #writters on tumblr #my story #winter solstice #The Yule Man

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hotsummersimpingogacc · 5 years

Text

te amo - reddie one shot

summary: richie and eddie start taking spanish classes together and richie sees this as an opportunity to confess his love to eddie.

word count: 1699 words

an: this is my first ever ship oneshot. but i honestly am proud of this. and also please excuse any mistakes in the spanish part, even though i do take spanish i am not that good to write such a paragraph without translator.

richie and eddie are around finn's and jack's age in this fic ❤

* - translated text at the end of the fic

* gif not mine *

for years richie had feelings for eddie. the jokes about his mom he always made, they were just defense mechanism. he was scared of his feelings, he was scared of being exposed or being judged by his friends. especially eddie, what if he revealed what he's really feeling and he'd just reject him. this fear was bigger than fear of pennywise himself. he was nothing compared to how frightened richie actually was.

everyday seeing the person he wants to be with the most. whenever eddie smiles richie is melting on the spot, when he's feeling down there's nothing more richie wants to do then hold him and tell him that everything is gonna be okay. sometimes when he sees eddie kissing his mom's cheek he wishes it was his cheek or even better his lips. he felt lonely whenever he was with other losers but when eddie was around it was like he was full again. richie tried to hide his feelings in front of his friends, it'd be weird if they found out the truth.

before the school year ended students had to choose their subjects for next year. and of course boys wanted ti have all classes tomorrow. they choosed them like that. but there was one richie had to beg other guys to take. richie asked them every single day if they'll take spanish with him. the answer was always the same, no. eddie started to feel really bad for richie since he looked like he really wanted to take the class, but not alone. so he decided to take it with him. after all richie needs someone to stop when he's making jokes. after eddie told him he's gonna take the class with him richie thanked him all the way home.

richie actually gained a little confidence after eddie informed him that he's gonna learn spanish with him. maybe he'll be able to tell him about his feelings since they're gonna be a few more hours a week together. maybe he'll finally realize if this is real or not. or maybe he'll swallow his feelings even deeper.

"hey, richie ready to head out?" eddie popped next to richie's locker all excited

"yeah, i'll just grab some things" richie grabbed his books

"so, are you excited?" eddie smiled at him

"little less then before fucking your mom but it's okay i guess" richie shrugged his shoulders

eddie rolled his eyes. he knew this was coming but he didn't expect it to happen before actual class.

"are you gonna do this the whole time? because if yes i'm gonna do anything to get out of that class" eddie explained with his hand near his right ear

"sorry, i just saw the opportunity" richie smirked

"you always see the opportunity, right?"

"you guessed it, señor" richie was pretty proud of his answer

first spanish lesson went pretty well. both richie and eddie enjoyed it. of course they had dive into studying right away. they met up at eddie's house after school.

sat down on eddie's bed and tried to learn lines they learned that day

"hola, me llamo richie and i fucked your mom!" richie burst out laughing

"can we at least study without this?"

richie sighed and looked at his textbook. of course he had to make that joke. eddie was so cute while trying pronounce words in spanish. it was so hard for richie to hold back and not kiss him. he was clenching his fist so he wouldn't stroke his cheek. fortunately eddie hadn't noticed anything. he hadn't noticed richie's looks at him, those genuine laughs, all that affection richie had for him. he never noticed and richie was so grateful for it.

there were days he wished eddie would notice. maybe show his love back. maybe kiss richie so richie wouldn't have to. maybe say those words richie was scared to jabber out. i love you, you mean a lot to me, that'd be enough for richie. he'd know that all those feelings he had for all those years weren't one-sided. these were things richie dreamed off when he was laying in his bed at night, trying to fall asleep without eddie on his mind.

months were passing and boys were picking up more and more new knowledge from spanish. basic lines and phrases weren't enough for them. they'd go to library in the afternoons and dig some new interesting words.

during these "diging" sessions richie got an idea. there's no way in hell eddie learned how to confess anything to someone in spanish. richie was so sure that this is the only way he can tell him how he really feels. and when eddie will realize what richie told him, he'd be far away from american borders.

richie spent even more time in library, borrowed some books home and started writing down his confession. it was easiest-hardest thing he ever done. putting those words on paper went so fast. he was so certain what he wants to tell him. but when it came to part he had to tell him, face to face his gut thightened and he felt like crying. his hands were sweating and shaking.

richie had the list in his backpack, carrying him everywhere he went. he was scared someone would find it and figure it out. this gave him more anxiety then eddie telling him no or making fun of him.

after two weeks of carrying the confession in his backpack, richie was ready to say it to eddie. he made sure they were alone in his house. he sat him down in his living room and sat opposite him. he never sweat this much. his whole body was shivering, covered in goosebumps. he was repeating to himself that this is the best time and there won't be any better time.

"is everything alright rich?" eddie, concerned, look richie straight into eyes

richie took a deep breath and started:

"eds, there's this thing, i've been meaning to tell you for such a long time. so here it is" he put his glasses back up on his nose, took another deep breath and began talking

*"eddie, te amo. He estado enamorado de ti desde que tengo memoria. y es dificil para mi Te veo todos los días, te escucho reír y me enamoro aún más de ti. cada vez que sonríes o te quejas de que algo es insalubre, trato de contenerme porque solo quiero besarte. cada vez que te sientas mal o enfermo solo quiero abrazarte y decirte que todo estará bien. Esto es lo más difícil que he hecho, pero es más fácil ya que te estoy diciendo esto en español y no tienes idea de lo que estoy diciendo. eds, eres mi amor y haría cualquier cosa por estar contigo" richie could feel tears in his eyes so he immidiately stood up and ran to bathroom

richie leaned against the sink and let the tears stream down his face. he knew eddie was sitting there all confused because has no idea what he just said and why he ran away. richie got it off his chest. he told eddie how he feels, how much he loves him. his list wasn't long but it sure was full of emotions and everything richie feeled.

"hey richie, are you okay?" eddie knocked on the door

"yeah, i just had to make sure my wang is longer than yours before we start messuring them" richie tried to hide his sobby voice

damn it richie, you don't have to hide behind your jokes anymore, you exposed yourself to him.

when richie stepped out of the bathroom he saw that eddie was searching his fanny pack in the hallway

"what you looking for there? your birth control pills?" richie chuckled

"no, but if you're sick or something and you went in there to shit or for god's sake even throw up i have to take my pills so i won't catch anything" richie sometimes wondered how is it possible for eddie to speak this fast

days passed since richie told eddie about his feelings. he felt releaved but also really anxious. eddie was totally looking for some words richie had told him. what if he was searching for words like te amo. what if he already cracked them and he's not gonna tell richie so he won't break his heart. richie was overthinking as always.

that day, eddie and richie went to study to eddie's house. they were sitting quietly on eddie's bed both of them reading text they had to read.

"richie?"

"hmm?"

"there's something i want to tell you" richie could feel how his heart skipped a beat

"go on, eds"

"umm, wait" eddie took out a small piece of paper from back of his textbook.

"okay so, yo también te quiero" eddie said with certain confidence

"what?"

"it means i love you too, amor" eddie blinked at richie

"you're fucking with me!" richie yelled out

"i wish i was" eddie chuckled

"wait, are you like serious serious, or did you tell other guys about what i said and they made you say this?"

"i haven't told anyone. richie, this comes from my heart. i really love you! when you said what you said i felt so releaved because i was happy to hear that i wasn't the only one feeling this way. richie i cracked your "i fucked your mom" a long time ago"

"you little fucker" richie smiled

* eddie, i love you. i've been in love with you ever since i can remember. and it's hard for me. i see you everyday, i hear you laugh and i fall in love with you even more. whenever you smile or complain about something being unsanitery i try to hold myself back because i just wanna kiss you. whenever you feel bad or sick i just wanna hold you and tell you it's gonna be okay. this is the hardest thing i ever done but it's easier since i'm telling you this in spanish and you have no idea what i'm saying. so eds, you're my love and i'd do anything to be with you

tagged

@royalydamned @diablvna @queen-irl-af

if you wanna be included please let me know ❤

#it (2017)#it (2019)#it chapter 2 #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #finn wolfhard #jack dylan blazer #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak

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titriwrites · 5 years

Text

Polaroid Picture -- Chapter Four

It's @finchbaggins birthday tomorrow, and she misses these two. So, why not give her an early present, huh? You can read on AO3, or under the tag. Let my know what you think about the most awkward family dinner in the history of family dinners.

Chapter 4

„What the heck, Dad?“ Tom hisses a few days later at James, who’s leaning against the counter in his kitchen way too comfortably. In the dining room he can still hear the soft murmurs of the two voices he didn’t expect when his father’s suggested they ‘should have a roast on Friday night’.

Libby's not been talking to him for the past three days, and now Tom’s supposed to have a lovely dinner with her and Matt? His wife – ex-wife – and his used-to-be best friend Matt?

The two siblings look like they belong there in James’ house. And Tom? He seems to be a guest.

Okay, he’s not been home for any meals these past days since he’s gotten here. But he thought... well, he thought that maybe his father wanted to talk. Maybe catch up? And now Libby's there, her brother looks like he considers killing Tom slowly and painfully, and Tom can’t walk out without looking like a massive jerk.

Okay, more of a jerk than he already seems to be seen as here.

“You wanted to talk to her, didn’t you?” James has got that stupid smile on his face that Diana swears Tom inherited. He’s never believed her.

Tom scoffs. “What, you think this is the right time to possibly discuss a divorce? She didn’t want to talk to me before, why would she do now?”

James’s smirk grows, as does Tom’s anger. “I never said you should talk about the divorce, son,” he says. “Maybe it would do you some good, if you actually talked to her. You know? Ask her how she's doing? Sometimes those little, nice conversations work wonders.”

With that James walks past Tom, turning around in the doorway before leaving for the dining room. “You don't have to stay, if you don’t want to. You’re a free man and this is a free country. But this is my house, and if you can’t behave like a grown-up, I’ll throw you out.”

Then, he’s gone. And Tom stares at the spot his father’s just vacated for a few moments, before he lets out a frustrated growl and paces the floor.

His heart is thudding heavily in his chest and his hands tug at the ends of his hair. This is madness. He should just leave. They can’t be in the same place for more than a few minutes without arguing. And that’s just him and Libby. Tom doesn’t even want to think about Matt.

And then he stops pacing. What is he even doing? What is Libby even doing? This is the house Tom grew up in. She’s got no right to drive him out of his own house. Well, his father’s house. No, Tom decides with a huff. He’s not going to give her that satisfaction.

Sending a quick text to Julia, promising to call later in the evening when the dinner with his father – just James, because Julia obviously doesn’t know there’s anyone else here in the house, or Tom's life for that matter – is over, he takes a deep breath and leaves for the dining room.

***

He’s missed so much. Tom’s known that, you can’t stay away for five years and expect that everything will be the same when you come back. But he didn’t realise just how much he’s missed.

Matt is not living in Oxford anymore. He’s moved to Birmingham two years ago, owning his own construction firm, being quite successful with it. He has a girlfriend, but hasn’t asked her to marry yet. Not that Tom particularly cares about that, but James is chatty this evening.

Tom also now knows that Matt still manages to drive to Oxford every two weeks.

Yes, he gets it. But Birmingham is closer than New York. Thank you very much.

And then there’s the fact that both Mr and Mrs Lucas died in the past year. Tom actually swallows heavily at the news he’s heard a few days prior but that haven’t hit home until Matt talks about it, and Tom sees how Libby swallows, casting her eyes downward, munching on her piece of roast.

“I’m sorry,” Tom says. It’s stupid. But what else is there to say?

“It's not your fault,” Libby mumbles.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

Matt cuts in at that point. Tom’s a bit surprised to be honest. He hasn’t been prepared for Matt giving him a harder time than Libby. Or maybe he has.

“We sent you invitations to the funerals. Maybe they’ve been lost in the fan mail.”

The silence is heavy until James clears his throat. “You’ve both been very brave. It wasn’t easy.”

They continue to eat in silence. This is the strangest dinner Tom’s ever attended. Maybe he should just go to his room?

But no. That’s exactly what he doesn’t want. Being send away by those two. Because again, he feels like he’s 20, not quite grown-up but somehow listening to his parents’ advice when visiting. Which he and Libby did a lot at that time. Well, what Libby obviously still does.

“What about the house?” Tom asks instead, seeing from the corner of his eyes how James shakes is head slowly. What? He’s supposed to make conversation, isn’t he?

“It'd be too big to live there alone,” Libby mumbles, and Matt adds, “And with my business in Birmingham, I can’t just come and live here.”

“Plus, a house isn’t cheap in maintenance,” James adds as Tom feels himself nodding along.

“Well, from the money you’d get in a divorce, you could surely buy the house back,” he hears himself mumbling next and then there’s silence.

Silence before two voices talk at once. “Are you fucking crazy bringing up the divorce now? How is that even related? Is there anything you do or say anymore that isn’t calculated? You really made me think you cared just two minutes ago.” – Matt, and finally just an exasperated “Tom,” from his father. Libby remains strangely quiet. Tom looks over at her, seeing how she stares down at her plate, chewing on her meat slowly, deliberately.

He sighs. Honestly, this time he’s got no idea himself why he’s brought it up. And he knows that it's not appropriate. He knows he should have kept his mouth shut, and he definitely knows he’s fucked up. Again. Tom closes his eyes.

“I’m...,” he starts, trying to meet Libby's gaze again, but this time she does speak up, and interrupts him.

“Just don't say anything. And please just leave him be,” she addresses James and Matt. “We know why he’s here, so that shouldn’t be surprising.” She closes her eyes and then looks up at Tom. He ignores his father and brother-in-law and focuses on his ex-wife instead. “I’m trying to have a nice Friday night, could we do this tomorrow?”

Tom nods, more to himself than Libby. “Yeah, I’m...”

“Just shut up,” she grumbles, before he can say any more.

Maybe he’s just tired of this situation, Tom thinks. Maybe he shouldn’t have come here at all. Just let Brian find a good lawyer, found out Libby's current address, and then had the papers send to her with a time limit for signing. But no, now he’s here in his old house with memories everywhere. In the house where be grew up in with the garden he shared his first kiss with the woman currently sitting in front of him.

Along with the other people he hasn’t seen in quite some time. With two men who look like they want to punch him. At this point, Tom would gladly let them. For being so stupid. Not just for coming here, but also for the many ridiculous things that left his mouth these last couple of days.

It’s almost like he can’t help himself around Libby. Beth. Lucas. Whatever. She's always talked back at him. Supported him, of course, but didn’t take shit from him, either.

Maybe he’s gotten too used to life in Hollywood? Where everyone makes sure he’s well looked after? Maybe he thought Libby's changed just as he has? For the better, of course. He’s grown up, right? Got his career started and saw the world. She's not grown that much. But maybe he should not say that right now.

So, amidst the sounds of eating and cutlery and crockery being used, Tom is silent, hoping this evening will end fast enough for him making a call to Julia that he desperately needs. Not that he can tell her anything that’s actually going on.

***

“So, what do you say,” Matt starts when the plates have been cleared away, “Tom, will you join us at the pub tonight?”

Beth almost chokes on the gulp of wine in her mouth, but manages to swallow before any accidents can occur. To his credit, Tom looks just as shocked as Beth feels, even going slightly pale as far as she can see.

“Oh, I don’t think...” Tom starts, and Matt seems to be on a roll.

“Well, I think. It’s a great idea. You want Beth to talk to you? You want to be treated as an adult and not a child? Get involved, see your friends. Former friends. Maybe show that you care a bit. Works great for you when you’re going to galas and charity events all over Hollywood.”

Matt smirks, and Beth knows what he’s doing. But taunting Tom has never worked well. He'll just get competitive, and Beth can already see the three of them sitting in the pub they’ve used to frequent regularly when they were younger and Tom and her still in love.

James clears his throat. “I think a night out could work wonders,” he winks and then stands up from the table. “I’ll be in front of the TV. Don't be too loud coming back home.”

As Tom and Beth stare after him, Matt chuckles. “What do you say, Tom? Are you in?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Thank goodness, one more person aside from her at this table that actually has some common sense.

“I can’t be seen here out and about. People will see me and they’ll tell, and then the paparazzi will appear and there goes the peace and quiet.”

Matt snorts at the same time as Beth can’t help but mumble, “What peace and quiet?”

Really now? That’s his reason? He thinks people will care that much for him being in a pub in a small town? That’s how he’s living his life in America now, isn’t it?

Okay. So, Tom’s competitive. Well, unfortunately, Beth is too. “Who would tell, Tom? The beekeeper that served you your first legal beer? The one that cleaned after your first legal ‘I’m Tom, and I can drink all of you under the table’?. Or your friends that have never spoken about you before, even when some media called when you first became famous?”

Tom's silence just eggs her on, along with the barely concealed exasperation in his eyes. “If that’s what your life in Hollywood is like with your new friends, maybe they’re the problem, not the people you’ve grown up with here.”

Beth feels Matt’s eyes darting from her to Tom, but hers don’t leave the man on the other side of the table while she takes a sip from her wine glass to hide a smile.

Tom stands up, head held high, a smirk playing around his lips. “I’m getting changed, I’ll be down in five minutes."

***

Tags: @devikafernando @itsliterallythis @justthelosersblog @avenger-nerd-mom @archy3001 @nuggsmum @majk78 @hakimo2015 @noplacelikehome77

#polaroid picture #beth + tom #tom hiddleston fanfiction #real person fanfiction #chapter 4

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