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idontunderstandchemistry · 1 year

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Indecent Proposal (An academic rivals to lovers fanfic) - Tim Drake x Latina!Fem!Reader.

Sinopsis: Being a scholarship student at Gotham's most expensive school is not easy, especially when your academic rival, your nemesis, who coincidentally is the owner's son, decides to make you a rather usual proposition.

Tropes: Academic rivals-to-lovers, contract/bet, he loved her all this time, everyone else sees it except them, opposites attract, etc.

A/N: Hi guys! I hope you had enjoyed the holidays! So, just to warn you guys, the uptades may become more sparse due to the return to school, but I will continue doing my best to update at least once a week :/ Also, I just wanted to say that I'm very gratefull for every interaction from you guys ❤️ They keep me motivated to keep writing and I simply love to know what you guys think about Indecent Proposal. It makes me feel like we're all on the same boat, I don't know how to explain it lol. Anyways, tysm for evething! (Also, this chapter's song is just because it has been playing in my head non stop because of TikTok. I WANNA BE SAAAAVED)

For those of you that want to read some chapters ahead, feel free to acess my AO3 account here.

Warnings: Alysanne lightly fantasysing with Daddy!Batman (but to be fair, let he who has never sinned cast the first stone,I know I'm not going to be the one.)

Wordcount: 1715.

Chapter thirteen

Chapter Fourteen: Pictures Don't Lie

When you arrived at the studio, Aly was already in their costume, making the last adjustments. You couldn’t help but smile. They looked fucking stunning.

— There she is! — Aly exclaimed as you sat on one of the armchairs, waiting — The it girl of the moment.

— It's good to see you too, Alysanne — You said, taking your shoes off. Fabio’s n°1 rule: never wear shoes while trying on your custom-made clothes — Where’s Fabio?

— I have no idea, I think he said something about grabbing some pins — Aly said, looking at themselves in the mirror — I personally think he meant I’m skinny. Your costume is in the change room, he asked for you to try it on so that he would be back in a minute.

You got inside the change room and saw the beautiful white dress. You could easily be mistaken by a minimalist bride in this dress. The silk was so soft and shiny… the draped bust would make your breasts look even more amazing. You wondered what Tim would think when he saw you in this dress. You giggled like a child, wondering how much this dress cost. Aly loved to pamper you.

— You’ve already hidden your lover’s face from me, don’t hide the dress too! — Aly exclaimed from the outside. You finished putting the dress on and after a good five minutes trying to strap the wings to yourself alone, you got out of the changing room and asked Aly to help you. They helped you and you got to the mirror step to see it better — If i were a woman, I would envy you so much.

You laughed at Aly’s comment.

— I’m serious! — They exclaimed — You’re the only person I know that can make a romantic costume look hot without shortening your skirt or lowering the neckline.

— Thank you, Aly — You said — You’re also rocking. You look simply amazing. The jewellery pieces will compliment the look so much you definitely are going to get Paris Hilton’s blessing.

— Oh, I’m sure I will — They said, smiling — It would be very dumb of her not to choose me as her successor. I mean, I’m thin, I’m blonde and my tan comes straight from Aruba.

— Good that you know — You said.

After you guys took some photos for Aly’s instagram, they started to question you.

— Why don’t we call your Dilf Playboy so that he can see how you look good? — They asked, seated on the armchair beside you. You laughed.

— He is our age, Aly — You tried to guide the conversation — And I can’t show him.

— Why not? Is there anything of yours he hasn't seen yet? No slutshaming obviously.

You laughed loudly.

— Yes, Aly. There are parts of me he hasn’t seen yet — You said — And he is a cheesy motherfucker. Would try to match costumes with me, and then everybody would know about our… thing.

— You can just call it a relationship, you know?

— We are not dating. It’s purely physical.

— Maybe for you and that cold heart of yours — Aly pointed, fidgeting with the hem of their gown.

— I’m not cold hearted — You answered, a bit offended — I just… have more important things. And I don’t want to be in a relationship with him. Things are good the way they are.

— You're really not telling me who your mysterious twink is?

— No, I’m not — You said — At least for now. Maybe after this thing between us end, we can talk shit about him.

— “I’m not cold hearted”, she says — Aly said and rolled their eyes.

You spent some time in silence, watching tv. And then the reality show got interrupted by the news with an interview with Batman.

— Turn the volume up! — Aly exclaimed, worried, since the images were near their father’s work. You did as they asked.

“... The source of the explosion is already being investigated by Red Robin and I, there are no fatal victims and everything will be alright”. Your mind vented. Red Robin. There has been a while since you heard about him. Good to know he is alive. Aly, with a very confused look, turned their head towards you with a devious grin.

— What? — You asked.

— I know why you don’t want to tell me who you’re secretly shagging — They said, leaning towards you. You arche done eyebrow, confused — You’re fucking Batman! — Aly exclaimed as they heard the dark knight voice on the TV. Oh fuck, it was scary how Tim could mimic it almost perfectly — Does he fuck you with the mask on? How big is it?

— What?! No! — You exclaimed, laughing — That man is clearly in his forties, Aly, he could be my father. I’ve told you, he is our age.

— Look, of all the people in this world, you’re the one I’ve least expected to try to gaslight me…

— I’m not, Aly, I swear on my mother’s name.

— I heard his voice, little Y/N. It's Batman!

— No, he’s not! He just is really good at imitating voices — You tried to explain, but Aly wasn’t easily convinced.

— Oh, so he didn’t tell you then — Aly said — I really am a great detective!

— Aly, he is a highschooler — You said, holding their hands — If he was Batman, he would fail every fucking class, and as hard it is for me to admit, he is kinda smart.

— I demand proof.

— What do you want? To see his fucking driver’s licence? Birth certificate? His report card?

— A picture of him will do.

You sighed. There must be a way out of this. You went through your secret gallery, where you kept the pictures you’ve taken together while you engaged in physical activities (you honestly thought it was a bit risky, but you had nothing to lose if these pictures were stolen. Well, maybe your dignity, but at this point you were pretty convinced you’ve already lost it), but they all showed his face or his stomach scar, and Aly had a fucking great memory. They would know it was Tim the second they saw his scar.

— Give me a sec.

You went to the balcony and called for Tim.

— Missing me already? — He asked, his voice echoed. Where the fuck was he that had echo?

— Are you in a cave? — You couldn’t help but ask — Your voice is echoing.

— Oh, I'm in the manor’s gym — He answered.— How can I help you, darling?

— I need a picture of yours — You said, biting your lip nervously — A picture that shows you’re not an old man and that at the same time doesn't show any of your recognizable features.

— That’s a very specific request. May I know why?

— Aly thinks you’re a sugar daddy — You admitted, after a sigh — They’re convinced you’re an old man and I want to prove them wrong. If I don’t, they’ll mock me for eternity.

— You really do hate the idea of having a sugar daddy, don’t you? No one has pampered you enough?I can change that… — He said and you could imagine the grin on his pretty face. Smart ass.

— That’s not the point, Playboy.

— I’ve got you, darling. Remember that picture of us in your bathroom mirror, the one you’re wrapped your legs around my waist?

— The one I asked you to delete? You’ve kept it. Obviously — You said, laughing. You would be mad at him for keeping that picture, but it saved you right now.

— Sorry, I didn’t plan on keeping it, but you look so fucking pretty there that I couldn’t help it.

— That’s okay. Just send it to me, please.

— Sent already, darling.

— Thank you, Playboy.

— You’re welcome, love.

— Bye.

— Kiss you later.

You hung up and walked back into the room. Aly was on the mirror step again and Fabio was back with the pins.

You got in Tim’s chat and opened the photo.

He was right, it was a good photo, but you didn’t want him to have it because of the way you looked at him in it. Too intimate. He was standing with his back turned to your mirror, his wet hair kinda messy and some water droplets sliding on his bruised back. You were being held by him, your legs wrapped around his waist and his hands cupping your ass (gently squeezing, actually, but no one could tell it by the picture), one of your hands grabbing his shoulders, your red nail polish in contrast with his fair skin. You were the one holding the phone and, with your hair wet and slight back, you looked at his smile with flustered cheeks and a sweet smile. Too fucking intimate.

At least, neither his face nor his scars known to the public were showing.

— If you ever say he is old again, Alysanne Taylor Lewis, I’m going to beat your ass — You started getting closer to them. Aly got the phone from your hand and you were not worried that they could get out of the photo and try to discover his identity. You trusted Aly.

— Damn, y/n, you are aggressive in bed — They said, zooming in on Tim's bruises — Nobody would bet on that by looking at your face… always the quiet ones…

— I didn’t do it — You laughed — He got in a fight with his brothers.

— Romeo? — Fabio asked, looking at the photo too. Aly nodded — His back seems incredibly familiar. Weird. I know these measures from someone…

— Maybe you’ve tailored something for him — Aly said, giving your phone back to you — She calls him “Playboy”, so he is certainly on your client’s list.

Fabio looked at you.

— I have no idea, maybe he is — You said, looking at the picture again. Even though Tim was filthy rich, you couldn’t picture him wearing hand made suits. The boy literally showed up at your house wearing jeans and a Flash merch sweater.

— That look on your face — Aly said — Are you sure you’re not in love with him?

— Shut up, Alysanne.

— Maybe Red Robin finally found his match in the competition for your heart. Who would say, a hero and a twink… I guess you don’t really have a type.

You didn’t answer, as you kept looking at your face on the picture before deleting it.

You were not going to let him crawl his way into your heart.

#timothy drake #tim drake #tim drake x reader #tim drake smut #red robin x y/n #red robin headcanon #red robin x reader #red robin fanfic #batboys fanfic #batboys x you #batfamily #batboys x reader #Spotify

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bucksfucks · 3 years

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𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙚 ; 𝘀𝘁𝗲𝘃𝗲 𝗿𝗼𝗴𝗲𝗿𝘀

summary┃steve has always had his eyes on you, yours on him. catching you on the beach he finally gets a taste of what he’s missing.

pairing┃achilles!steve x f!reader

word count┃1,721 words

warnings┃beach sex, semi-public sex, a lot of nudity, oral, fingering, skinny dipping, soft smut, light degradation, dirty talk, unprotected sex — 18+ ONLY//MINORS DNI

notes┃this is very loosely based off of the story of achilles, like...very loosely. the only similarity is the blonde hair and the fact that steve is a demi-god, other than that, it’s self-indulgent <3

He isn’t really sure when he first saw her.

All he knows is that he can’t keep his eyes off of her as she wanders through the cobbled street.

She’s dressed in a simple gown, slightly weathered with loose strands floating above her feet as she wanders through the bazar. There’s an airiness to her, light and free as he sees light emanating from her.

He’s perched on top of a thick tree branch that’s able to hold his weight. Legs swinging and hair blowing in the summer air as he crunches down on the last slice of his clementine.

He wonders if she’d be sweeter than the sweet juice coating his tongue.

“If you stare at her any longer you’ll burn holes through her skull,” he feels a nudge against his right shoulder, pushing him slightly forward as someone joins him on the large branch.

He ignores the remark, scoffing as the bitter peel falls from his hand and other the grass below where it would be hoarded by squirrels and chipmunks.

Bucky’s legs dangle with Steve’s, touching but not connected as he continues to admire the way she picks a few apples into her woven basket.

He pays no attention to Bucky, the sound of his voice outweighed by the thoughts of her.

“Steve?” It’s a question as he finally snaps out of his haze, “what’s gotten into you?” Bucky asks, a genuine sense of wonderment in his tone as the younger of the two sighs.

“I think I’ve been struck by cupid himself.” He says aloud and Bucky can’t help but roll his eyes, but the smirk displayed on his lips makes him happy, happy that Steve has finally taken a liking to anything other than the bronzed shield he wields.

“I hear she has no lover,” Bucky whispers cheekily, the words catching Steve by surprise as he feels his heart leap towards her.

“Who told you that?” Steve asks, bewildered, amused, and hungry for more information. Bucky just laughs, jumping from the branch effortlessly before craning his head up to look at the golden haired man.

“You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

The waves crashed against the shore, sand growing damp as you dug your toes into it. The sun was slowly fading, but still just as hot as you closed your eyes and let the sunshine was over you.

The beach was always a safe space, providing you with recluse when you wanted time with the most important person; yourself.

The woven basket you carried, now filled with fresh fruit and a jug of water, sat half buried in the tan sand, acting as a weight on the rag you lay for when you emerged from the water.

Shedding your clothes, you made your way beneath the waves, relishing in the cool water against your skin as your mind wandered back to the bazar. You saw him, perched atop a tree, lounging with his bow and arrow across his toned chest and back as he ate the sweet clementines you’d been trying to find.

Everyone knew of Steve, but vert few knew Steve.

He wasn’t like you or anyone else you knew, part God as his walked with a high head and a glimmer in his eye that made him shine.

When you made your way back onto the beach you were tired, taking you time to re-dress as you dig into the basket, an apple in hand before you’re biting down on it.

It’s sweet, quelling your hunger just enough, but it doesn’t satisfy you.

“Apples are sweet, but the summer is the season for clementines.” A sweet voice rings out from behind you, turning around to be met with none other than Steve.

He was barefoot, buried in the sand, his bow and arrow still slung across his back and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander across the vast expanse of his broad chest.

A smile stretches across your lips, tantalizing Steve as he takes a few steps closer until he’s at the edge of the rag you’re sat on.

“Perhaps I can entice you with one, instead?” He smirks, the orange fruit resting perfectly in the middle of his large hand as he sinks to his knees. You bite at your bottom lip, meeting his gaze.

“What is Steve, Son of Peleus doing talking to just a mere mortal?” You tease, craning your head slightly upward as Steve tosses the fruit upward, catching it with ease.

“Have you forgotten, my dear?” He muses, rolling the fruit towards you as you catch it in your own hand. “The sea is also my home, this is where I go when it calls me.”

His words are so soft, voice sweet like honey as it flows through the air and you feel the warm breeze surrounding you like a hug from Aeolus himself. You felt the familiar rush of butterflies you often felt when you thought about him, but here he was, in front of you with a beaming smile on his lips.

“Has it called you today?” You asked, a soft whisper and almost barely audible as he leans closer, “the sea amongst other things are calling me.”

Your heart is racing in your chest, he smells like lavender, almonds, and earth as he pulls back. He’s quick on his feet, marvelling at the muscles and strength he posses as he strips of the rest of his clothes.

It’s not hard to believe that he is part God, Adonis himself having competition as he flicks his eyes up at you.

“Join me,” he says gently, outstretching his hand before you’re stripping once again, clothes in a pile with his as you take his hand, submerging beneath the water.

He clearly belongs in the water, waves calming around him as he wraps his strong arms around you to bring you close to his warm body. You’re lost in the blue of his eyes, like the sky met the sea and you never want to look away.

“I have been dreaming of the day I can get my hands on you,” he admits faintly, your breath hitching in your throat as you can’t resist the urge to smile.

“The day that my lips get to meet yours,” your heart is now tumbling, core aching as you feel him stiffen against you.

“The day that I get to taste you.” There’s a glimmer in his eyes, mischievous, playful, and yearning as you tangle your fingers in the hair that rests at the nape of his neck.

Steve wastes no time in wrapping your legs around his waist before his lips are on yours, hungry and passionate as he steals the breath from your lungs until you’re dizzy.

Water sloshes around your bodies, breaths hot and heavy as wandering hands squeeze at your flesh and curves, Steve memorizing the way you feel.

Your eyes are closed, lips still on his as he carries you both onto the beach and onto the warm cloth lining the sand, gently setting you down. You take a moment to admire the way his wet hair hangs in front of you eyes, pieces of it seemingly glued down to his forehead.

“You are breathtaking, practically Aphrodite herself,” he mumbles against your neck, lips passing by your collarbone before he’s peeling the sweet fruit in front of your eyes.

“Open,” the command is gentle as you do so, parting your lips to welcome the fruit slice. You moan at the taste, relishing in the sweetness of it before Steve is running his thumb over your bottom lip.

His lips seal yours once again, body heavy on top of yours as you feel the weight of his cock between your thighs. It swells when you sink your teeth into his bottom lip.

“Mmm, so sweet, my dear,” he mumbles against your mouth, “but I can think of something sweeter.” He purrs, nose running between your breasts until he’s situated right above your hair decorated mound.

“Oh,” you gasp when he throws your legs over his broad shoulders, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon as Steve laps at your folds.

You’ve never experienced pleasure like this, every part of your body feeling as if it’s on fire as he groans against you, “so sweet.” He praises your legs beginning to tighten around his head.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” he pants, emerging with wet lips as his fingers are still focused on you. You can’t keep your eyes open, back arching as you lose yourself to the pleasure; waves crashing in the background.

“I need to feel you, sweet. Feel all of you.” He whispers, low and raspy as he holds himself over you on his forearms. He smells like you, tastes like the sweet orange juice, and you’re hypnotized.

“Steve,” you can only croak out his name before he’s filling you.

He’s thick and it stretches you like no other as his low groans and grunts fill your ears.

“Feel so fuckin’ good,” the curse causes you to clench around him as he smirks.

“My sweet, sweet, sweet girl.” His voice is much lower this time around, tone slightly condescending as his hips rock against yours.

“Here I thought you were innocent,” he smirks, “but the sounds you’re makin’, oh they are anythin’ but innocent my filthy little girl.”

Steve’s words, combined with his deep thrusts have you digging your nails into his lightly tanned back, crescent shaped indents the only reminder of you.

“Be mine,” he gasps, your eyes shooting open as those words leave his mouth. His lips are wet and parted, ragged breaths leaving them as he trains his eyes on you.

“Be mine and I will show you the world,” he promises as his hips stutter inside of you. You nod your head, “yes, yes!”

Your words are a double edged sword, a promise and a plea as you feel the white hot pleasure seeping through your bones for the second time that night as your name leaves through his mouth.

By the time you open your eyes next the waves have calmed and the moon is now showing her face, stars littering the sky as Steve’s eyes are a muted cerulean shade.

“You are my Clementine, sweet like the summer breeze.”

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wicked-mind · 3 years

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The Forgotten One

Summary: Steve and James inherited the Red Star mob from Obadiah Stane who considered them his sons. Little did Obadiah know that his niece, Y/N, had the two wrapped around her finger. But Obadiah took care of that problem without even realizing it.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: Violence, mentions of abuse, swearing, minor character death, some drinking. (If I missed anything let me know)

All Writings Masterlist

Note: Just a little story I had in my head that probably won't get a second part (: Plus I love mob!bucky and mob!Steve.

Any likes, comments, and/or reblogs are deeply appreciated!

*Gif not mine

Her eyes flickered between the two men in front of her. They are both equally beautiful, almost god like. Steve was tall and blonde, muscles ripped across his body. He looked menacing but the way those baby blue eyes stared into her’s showed nothing but love and gentleness. Then there was James, otherwise affectionally known as ‘Bucky.’ He was slightly shorter than Steve but just as muscular. He had a more rough look to him and unlike the gentleness that showed in Steve’s eyes, James’s blue eyes glowed with wild desire and hunger for her. Y/N drove both Steve and James crazy. She always had. The way she looked at them, the way she teased them had always been unbearable. Her favorite thing to do was try to tease them when they were around Obadiah since her uncle didn’t know of the secret relationship she had with the two. She would walk by sucking on a popsicle in the summer, letting her eyes meet theirs for longer than they should before disappearing. She would tan out by the pool as they watched her rub sunscreen along her skin in a teasing fashion. In the winter when it was cold, she would shed her jacket and fake shiver, lightly whining to them that she needed to be warmed up. Y/N was in a bit of a pickle when it came to the two. She had known them both for three years since coming to live with her Uncle Obadiah who was an awful man towards her. They taught her to defend herself, unleash that ruthlessness and darkness in her. She was eighteen now, same as them and there she sat in front of them. They both loved her deeply and she loved them both as well. It was no secret she toyed with both of them, having them both sneaking into her room at night through the window and flirting incessantly with them both. But now it seemed like she had to make a choice between the two which Y/N despised. She wanted them both. She needed them both. Her nails tapped on the arm of the chair as her eyes continued to flicker between the two.

“It’s okay to love us both, you know.” Steve finally spoke, breaking the silence.

Y/N raised an eyebrow at him, “Is that right?” She asks, her eyes moving to look at Bucky, “Is that how you feel?”

Bucky grinned over to her, “I’m not one to share…” He purred out to her in that deep seductive voice he always used around her, “But Steve is right, it’s alright to love us both. As long as you let only us love you.”

Their love was short lived though. Not soon after the conversation was had between the three, Y/N disappeared with Obadiah claiming she had gone abroad for college.

Obadiah Stane was one of the head mob leaders in New York over the Red Star mob. He didn’t have much competition besides the Red Skulls and the Walker family mob. He had taken care of mending differences with the Walker mob ten years ago, some sort of agreement that nobody but him knew of. When Obadiah passed away, James Buchanan ‘Bucky’ Barnes and Steven Grant Rogers took over the business. They had been in Obadiah’s mob since they were both fifteen, starting as drug mules and making their way up to being the right hands of Obadiah like they were his own sons. Although, under the new rule of Steve and James, things were getting shaky. James despised the Walker family mob due to the fact that John Walker, the new head of the Walker family mob, had taken his left arm ten years ago when he was almost nineteen in an attempt to kill him. James hated when Obadiah mended bridges with the Walker family and vowed to Steve that as soon as they were the head of the Red Star mob, he would take care and eliminate the Walker family off the map.

James and Steve stood over John Walker who sat in a chair with a scowl on his face in the living room of his own home. They had came here for a business meeting that was really a planned strategy to take care of Walker and his minions. James and Steve had taken off their black jackets, their white dress shirts stained with blood spatters from the beating they had taken turns giving Walker.

“Now, Walker. You took my arm nearly ten years ago.” James smiled darkly down to Walker, “Karma’s a bitch, ain’t it?” He said, pulling out a black pistol that had a silencer on it and held it to John’s forehead. Just as he was about to pull the trigger, a commotion from another floor above him made him stop.

Steve glared over at Clint and Sam, two of their main enforcers, “I thought you cleared the house, took care of everybody.” He hissed out to them coldly.

“We did!” Sam interjected firmly, “Everybody’s been taken care of. We checked every room.”

James lowered the gun from John’s head and looked to Sam, “Well, did you manage to check the attic?” He asked.

Clint looked to Sam and they both shook their head no, “Nobody’s ever in the attic, boss. We didn’t check, we’re sorry.” Clint said.

Steve ran his hand over his face, “I’ll check it out.” He told them and James, “If you need something done correctly, do it yourself.” He muttered before turning and leaving the room. He walked up the second floor, running his dark blue eyes along the ceiling until he found the pull down for the stairs that led to the attic. He reached up and gripped the string, pulling down the creaking stairs to the attic. He stepped up slowly, pulling the gun from the holster on his hip and holding it out as he got to the top of the stairs. He slowly holstered it as he looked around confused. The attic looked like it had been made into a bedroom. There were empty plates of food on the floor by where Steve had come up the stairs. There was a small bed in the corner with a dresser and mirror but no windows. Steve frowned as he looked around, it looked like it was made from a girl and if Walker was keeping a girl up here prisoner, that would just make him and James more angry with more of a reason to kill him. He walked around the room slowly, checking around every corner where someone could be hiding, holstering his gun as he didn’t feel like he was going to be met with a threat. He walked to the edge of the bed and looked down at the floor. There seemed to be scratch marks coming out from the bottom of clawed into the wooden floor like someone had been dragged out from under it multiple times. Steve cautiously lowers himself to the floor until his chest was on the wood and he could get a clear glimpse of under the bed and his eyes went wide a little bit at the sight.

In the very back squished against the wall was a woman staring back at him with wide, emotionless eyes. She had crammed herself into the very corner under the bed, laying on her chest and watching him very closely at every move he made. She looked skinny like she had never been fed well, her lip was split open and she had a black eye that looked freshly given to her. Her face was swollen, leaving her features unrecognizable to anybody who may know her. Steve couldn’t figure out why, but she looked familiar, “Hey, I’m Steve. I can help you out if you want to come out of there.” He said with a small smile, reaching his hand out but quickly taking it back when the woman flinched at him reaching for her, “Okay, stay here I’ll be right back.” He told her before standing up and walking back down the stairs from the attic and back to where James was still with Walker. Steve went straight to Walker and lifted him up out of the chair by his collar, his eyes darkening into a glare, “Who is she?!”

“Nobody. She’s nobody.” Walker spat out at Steve, falling back into the chair when Steve released him.

“Who is who?” James asked Steve curiously, raising an eyebrow.

Steve shifted his gaze over to James, “There’s a woman upstairs in the attic. Looks like she’s been kept there for a long time, all beaten.” He motioned for James to step out of the room for a more private conversation, “You should go see her, Buck. She looks familiar but I can’t figure out how.”

James nodded sternly at his best friend’s slight concern in his voice, “You said the attic?” He asks to which Steve nodded, “Keep an eye on Walker. I’ll go check her out.” He said before making his way up the stairs to the second floor then up the stairs of the attic. He looked around, same as Steve and took in the surroundings. He spotted the scratch marks on the floor from under the bed quicker than Steve had and walks over slowly. He puts his chest flush to the floorboards and peered under the bed, meeting the same wide emotionless eyes that Steve had seen. James observed her for a moment, studying her. Her hair was in messy braids, a freshly split lip, and a black eye that had just tarted to turn from red to purple. She was skinnier than she should be, malnourished. She looked about his age and didn’t seem super familiar… Except for those eyes. The way those eyes looked at him, though emotionless, was familiar. His’s fingers tapped against the wooden floors as he watched her. When he moved, her eyes flickered to watch his movements before returning to stare him down, “What’s your name?” He asks gently, but sternly.

The woman stared at him, her head tilting slightly at the question. She kept her mouth shut, not making any attempt to speak to him.

James sighed softly at her silence, putting his forehead to the floor before lifting it to look back at her, “Look, Walker isn’t going to do anything to you ever again. Let me help you, alright? I’ll get you out of here.”

The girl stayed silent at his words for a few minutes, her eyes scanning every movement his face made. She was calculating her options. Her eyes lingered from his face, down his neck, observing every part of him she could see. Once her eyes find the holstered gun at his side, her eyes slowly snaked back up to his face. The girl looked over to the exit from under the bed that James wasn’t blocking, slowly crawling towards it as her eyes returned to watch him. She pulled herself out from under the bed and stood up to face the now standing dark haired man.

James watched her crawl out from under the bed, slowly standing as to not spook her in any sort of way. His eyes raked over her now fully exposed finger. She wasn’t wearing any shoes and her feet were dirty so it seemed like she hadn’t in a long time. She was wearing all black sweatpants with a grey tank top. His eyes went back to her face as he puts his hands in his pockets, keeping a distance, “Gonna give me a name yet?” He asks but wasn’t surprised at the no response that came from her, “Come on, I’ll get you out of here.” He said, pulling a hand out of his pocket to gesture towards the open hatch that lead out of the attic. When she didn’t move, he started walking over and down the stairs out of the attic. James turned when he was at the bottom to look up at her as she followed him down the stairs. When she made it down, he lead her down the stairs back to the main floor with him still in the lead, looking over to Steve who was in the room adjacent to the stairs before looking back to the woman who was making her way down the stairs. At the last few steps, the woman stumbled and James reached up his arms to catch her.

Once the woman landed in his arms at the bottom of the stairs from the stumble she had planned, her eyes flickered over to Walker over his shoulder for a moment. She had planned this from the moment she saw the gun holstered on his hip. She swiftly moved out of his grasp, taking the gun out of his holster as she pushed him away and faced Walker. Nobody had time to move or even process what was happening before the woman fired one bullet from the pistol straight into Walker’s forehead.

Everybody jumped at the sound, ducking away a little at the suddenness of it. “Holy shit!” James yelled, grabbing the gun away from the girl quickly, clicking the safety on and putting it back in his holster. He took a deep breath, looking at Walker’s motionless corpse propped in the chair, “Karma really is a bitch. Nice shot, doll.” He said, almost impressed. For someone who looked like they’d been locked in an attic for a decade, she definitely know how to handle a gun.

The ride back to Steve and Bucky’s mansion was pretty much silent. The woman stared out the window, watching as the black SUV pulled up to an all to familiar mansion. She was shown to a large bedroom where she could stay while she healed up and until Steve and James figured out who she was and why the way she looked at them looked so familiar. The bedroom was painted a light cream color with a king sized bed covered in red blankets. The large windows were covered with gold curtains and a dresser with a TV on it sat opposite of the bed. A small couch sat against the window and there was a door that led to a full sized bathroom with not only a shower, but a large bathtub. A redheaded woman had come in to clean her wounds and also brought extra pairs of clothing as well as any toiletries she made need. Three meals were brought to her room daily since she didn’t dare step outside the safety of her own room. James and Steve had tried to spark conversations with her but they were always met with the same emotionless stare towards them, her eyes flickering between the two as if she was studying them, waiting for them to make a move. She didn’t sleep in the bed once over the span of a week staying there, instead she always pulled a pillow from the bed and curled up underneath the bed as she had for the last ten years living in the attic of the Walker residence.

The woman sat by the window on the couch as James and Steve entered the room after a soft knock on the door, both moving to stand in front of her. She watched them intently, her eyes flickering between the two as she watched every movement they made until they came to a stop in front of her. James’s hands were tucked in the pockets of his black dress pants he always wore while Steve only had one hand placed in his pocket, the other resting at his side. They waited for a moment to see if she would speak, but nothing passed her lips. The swelling on her face had gone down a little, causing some of her features to peak through though her skin was still covered in healing bruises and small cuts.

“It’d be very helpful and appreciated if you tell us who you are.” James said over to her, his lips still in a firm line. The way she was watching them, it was like she was calculating their every movement. But damn, her eyes… Something about them hinted that she was messing with them.

Steve stared into her eyes, trying to figure out why she seemed so familiar to them. It was like he was hypnotized into her eyes and when she looked at him, his own eyes narrowed slightly, “You know us.” He stated.

The woman raised an eyebrow slightly at them, the corner of her lip twitching ever so slightly upwards before returning to an emotionless line once again. She did know them. Ten years ago, she told them she loved both of them before they were taken away from her.

With a failed interaction, James and Steve left the room defeated once again. They made their way to Steve’s office who started pacing with his brow furrowed slightly as if he was trying to think, “She knows us. We know her.” He murmured out.

“Yeah, it’s like she’s teasing and testing us with her stares.” James scoffed, walking over and pouring some whiskey into a glass before bringing it to his lips, “It’d be really helpful if she would just tell us her name or a least utter a word. Her face is still too swollen to really tell who she is or was.”

Steve looked over to his bookshelf for a moment before making his way over to it and pulling out an old dusty book that sat on his shelf untouched for years. He flipped through the pages until a photograph hidden in the middle of the book paused him. It was from almost eleven years ago. It was a polaroid of James and himself laying on either side of Y/N on her bed, her eyes gleaming and a small smirk on her lips. Steve studied it for a moment before walking over to his desk and slamming the book down on the the table open with the photo showing, “Ten years, Buck. Ten goddamn years.” He growled out, his features darkening as he figured out the puzzle of their mystery woman.

James walked over to the desk and peered down at the familiar photo before looking to Steve and raising an eyebrow, “You think it’s Y/N?” He asks.

“Think about it, Buck.” Steve told him, “Ten years ago Obadiah squashed the beef between the families and wouldn’t tell anybody how. Exactly around the same time he claimed Y/N went to study abroad and we never heard of her again. She didn’t even come to her uncle’s funeral!” His voice was raising in anger as he explained, “He never liked her, he got stuck with her. Obadiah gave over his own niece to the Walker family ten years ago as a peace treaty. She loved us. She chose both of us. She would’t have just left without at least saying goodbye, she wasn’t that heartless.”

James had finished his whiskey and slammed his glass down on the table before picking up the photo and studying the woman in the photo intently. Those eyes in the photo had an eery similarity to the woman they had rescued from the Walker house. Then he remembered how she had raised her eyebrow at him and the corner of her mouth had twitched for a moment into a half smile and he felt his heart sink and his anger rise at the same time, “We were the ones that taught her to shoot a gun… Fuck, we should’ve known.” He said, lifting his flesh hand to run through his dark hair, “We just believed Obadiah like a bunch of fucking idiots. And she’s been tortured by the Walker family for ten years.”

Steve sighs, placing one hand on his hip and the other ran through his short blonde hair again, “No wonder she won’t speak to us.” He said, a tinge of hurt in his voice that was still deep with anger, “We’ll give her some space for now…”

The two men did give her some space for about another week which allowed the rest of the swelling and the wounds on her face to heal for the most part. The bruises had a slight yellow color to them still but other than that she looked almost normal again. Y/N had aged in the ten years, of course and even though she didn’t speak a word to anybody or show her emotions, she still felt everything for James and Steve even if she didn’t show it. Y/N was laying on the couch, a book in her hands as she read through the pages in silence. She had managed to sneak out of her room one night and found a bottle of whiskey that she brought back to her room which sat on the floor next to her with the cap off. Once in a while she would reach down while she read and took a small sip. Her reading was interrupted with a knock at her door and Y/N could tell be the way it sounded that it was her boys. They entered and she kept her eyes on the pages in front of her, unmoving as they both walked closer.

Steve stopped a little in front of her, noticing the open whiskey bottle on the floor. Y/N always liked whiskey and would have them steal bottles for her at times when they were younger. James was more forward than Steve was, he walked up and lifted her legs up from the couch and sat himself down before letting Y/N’s legs fall onto his lap, but still she didn’t tear her eyes away from the book, “We know who you are, doll.” James told her, pulling out the photo of them and leaning over to hold it in front of her book.

Y/N looked at the photo, closing her book and dropping it on the floor. She reached down and sat up a little, bringing the whiskey bottle to her lips and taking a small sip. Her eyes flicker between the two men, James who still had her legs on his lap and Steve who stood there looking at her with those gentle blue eyes, “Took you long enough, I was beginning to think you two had some sort of dementia.” She said out to them.

At the sound of her voice, Steve released a deep breath. Her voice just cemented the fact that it was Y/N, even though they both already knew that from the moment they stepped in the room and saw her healed face. He quickly walked over and kneeled down beside the couch, reaching out and taking her face in his hands, “We thought you left us… Obadiah said you went to study abroad.”

Y/N rolls her eyes slightly at him, “Me? Leave the two of you after you agreed to let me have all of both of you? That would make me some sort of idiot which I’m not.” She told him, her lips curving into a small smile. She could feel James’s hands rubbing on her legs softly but she pushed herself out of their touch and stood, stretching her arms above her head as she walked a little away from them. She turned to glance them over. Ten years had been well to them. They both put on more muscle than they had before and they were still as hot and desirable as she remembered them being, “Walker told me a while ago that my evil uncle had passed away and that you two were the new heads of the Red Star mob. I knew it was a matter of time until you found me.” Her eyes flickered to James, her eyes tracing down the gold and black metal left arm, “Especially since Walker did that to you. I knew you’d be set on revenge.”

Steve moved to sit next to James, watching Y/N intently, “Why didn’t you just tell us who you were when we found you?”

Y/N tilts her head at them, “Where would be the fun in that? You know I like to see you two all frustrated and pouty.” She asked with a small smirk, “Besides, I wanted to watch you two. It’s been ten years, had to see if you two were still mine or if you found someone else.”

James stood quickly at her words, walking towards her until he was inches from touching her with his body. The words stung him a little bit. Sure, there had been other women that himself and Steve had enjoyed but the love they both felt for Y/N never matched with any of those one night stands, “There’s been nobody else that has even came close to matching how we feel about you.” He said down to her, his voice tinged with a bit of anger, “You’ve always had us wrapped around your little finger.”

Y/N smiled up at him, noting the small bit of anger in his voice towards her. James had always been a little rougher with her and his anger switch was much easier to flip. She bit her bottom lip as she lifts a hand to brush along his cheek gently, watching him instantly melt into her touch, “That’s just how I like you two- wrapped around my finger like the good boys you are.” She told him before stepping away and moving to the dresser. She was wearing simple leggings with a tight black tank top. She pulled out one of the tight black dresses Natasha had provided her, turning to face Steve and James as she pulled all the fabric from her body until she was left in her bra and matching underwear. Y/N watched their eyes rake over her almost naked form, how their eyes flashed with lust and desire for her. She smiled teasingly at them before slipping the dress over her figure. It clung to her body, showing all her perfect curves and the bottom of the dress ended just at her thighs. turning her back towards them, “Now which one of you want to zip me up?”

Both Steve and James practically leaped at the chance, pushing each other away for the honor of touching Y/N and zipping up the dress. They had always been competitive when it came to Y/N’s love even though they both knew she loved them equally. Steve managed to be the one to slowly slip the zipper up from her lower back until he reached the top. He didn’t move from behind her though, instead moving one of his hands to her hip while the other stroked her hair to one side of her neck. Steve leaned forward and gently brushed his soft lips up her neck until they were touching the back of her ear, “You look beautiful, sweetheart.” He whispered to her, “But why get all dressed up?”

“Yeah, there’s no need to change, doll.” James said, moving to stand in front of Y/N with that crooked grin plastered across his face, “We’ll just have to rip that dress off later. We have ten years to make up for.”

Y/N was smirking at Steve’s touch. She always had them wrapped around her finger since she met them and enjoyed every touch they left on her body, “I’ve been holed up for ten years, my loves.” She reminded them, her eyes locked onto James’s light blue ones, “You two are going to take me out for some fun.” She slowly ran her tongue along her top lip, “Then, when we get back, you two can work on making up for those ten years.”

_________________________________________________________

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ginwhitlock · 3 years

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summary: human!JASPER/ human!BELLA. Bella is called to deliver day supplies to a very tired and mostly lost 1st Regiment Calvary, headed by no other than Major Jasper Whitlock. What will the two do once left alone to go over maps of the Tennessee hills?

fic type: oneshot, SMUT 18+

warnings: is set in the civil war, which means Jasper is a soldier in the confederacy literally only because he’s from Texas I promise, it would’ve been weird to make him union and apart of the Texas Calvary as that wasnt a union regiment, I do not support the confederacy or any of its beliefs, its just part of his backstory and this fic is centered directly in his human life (the confederacy itself is not mentioned in detail, it is just alluded to the fact). This is a smut fic but not hardcore in anyway so be warned. Oh also I made Bella and Emmett siblings. Of course.

She almost broke his nose kissing him.

She almost shattered bone and cartilage clicking their teeth together, enamel scraping enamel.

She almost caved in the center of his face so she could lick the insides of his molars, separate his jaws to find the pit of his throat, dangle her self righteousness by his uvula.

And to think she almost didn’t go out that morning.

Isabella Marie was the kind of pretty you didn’t see right away. The layers of fine muscle and fragile skin hiding the richness of her blood-red cheeks, crisp even in the horrible heat of August. And with that heat came hot headed Calvary men with unlined coat pockets and a hunger for pretty little girls.

She met Major Whitlock three miles outside of town, the local preacher sending her out to their camp with as many baskets as her daddy’s two mules could hold on their hips. She was flushed, the slot of her breastbone slick with afternoon sweat— her riding boots did nothing but slosh around with her pale feet inside, leather no match for Tennessee mountain hidin weather.

Maybe she should’ve dropped ice down her shift. Maybe she should’ve played dead and waited for God to put her on her ass.

The thin brunette was graced with the presence of an even skinner red head the moment Stubborn Ass’s (as she affectionally called her steed in private) hooves entered the temporary camp. The mans hair fell limply in front of his eyes which were slightly sunken, the blue of his irises molting into a starved shade of dust. His lips were worse. Once pink and slightly plump, now skinny and cracked with the less than dusty air.

“Is this the 1st Regiment Calvary? From Texas?” Her voice was strained and feverish, salt dripping off her Cupid’s bow.

The man nodded and offered a hand, “Names Sargent Henry Arquette. Nice to see you Miss, the boys haven’t been able to get any supplies up here for days,” Bella grasped his hand tightly, afraid her unskilled balance would come into play, and forced her weight down to the ground ungracefully, “you’re the sheriffs daughter, right miss?” His smile seemed correct handing off his skinny face, his teeth crooked and off centered, but sweet. She quirked her lip in return.

“Yes Sargent, I seem to be your supply wagon today. There’s more back in town but I was told you wouldn’t be in for a day or so.” Flushed and overdressed, that’s how she felt. Every second.

Henry took in the view of the well fed half breeds and gestured off handedly, something she would come to learn was an action he didn’t even notice he performed. “Day. Days. Who knows until we ration it. These trails are less trails and more raccoon paths. I’m just waiting to see why the hell we’ve been sent so far east to begin with.” He had no recognition what was proper to say in front of the young lady at his side, the year had been sucked dry of any feminine… life, to say lightly. A piece of his brain nudged him for speaking so plainly, but Bella never once looked offended and twitched her head in both sympathy and understanding. She had been raised in these hills. She knew their damnation like the back of her hand. Maybe even the back of her skull.

“I’ve heard about raids up in McMinnville. Bases and such lining up and down the mountain. My brother’s part of the 16th Regiment Calvary up there actually, you know. Things are heating up in our little slice of the world.” The little thing spoke like a sparrow, her nose pointed and soft, the bottom of her front teeth pillowing into her bottom lip. At the age of seventeen she seemed somehow both grounded and unsure.

The south was ripping itself apart. And she— and the Sargent, knew it.

Bella could see the redhead start to comment on her brothers hand me down gossip when a giant of a man— boy? Man? Definitely man, by the looks of his muscled shoulders and high jaw, the darkened cast shifting just under the skin of his cheeks, the low dip of a scar just below his brow— a brow which furrowed, twisted, and arched back up into his tanned forehead when he noticed the mules waiting restlessly, tails swinging behind a girl in a kinder man's idea of a dress and interrupted the lower soldiers train of thought.

“You must be Miss Isabella McCarty. I spoke to your father when we arrived last night.” Clipped and forward were his words, his hand outstretched in front of him, decorated in mis-matched freckles and calluses she could feel pressing into the column of her throat as she placed her small palm in his. “Major Jasper Whitlock, at your assistance.”

No smile graced his face but by God she would witness his lips stretch over his teeth if it was the last thing she ever did.

Still with her hand in his she whispered “You can call me Bella. Or Bella Marie. Or Isabella Marie oh or my mother calls me Belle or sometimes when my father is upset with me he calls me Marie McCarty like my grandmother used to and um..” her tongue had to have swelled to the size of a watermelon in the three seconds it took to look him in the eyes— the swamp green eyes in fact. Eyes the color of duckweed and marigold stems and whatever leaves would stick to the blackberries in the spring.

He laughed. And it sounded like a white flag waving in her insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Maybe the preacher was a righteous man after all.

“I like Isabella Marie. Miss Isabella Marie.” Like rain drops on a tin ceiling.

The Arquette boy looked between the two before edging towards the black mules “Any orders where to put these, Major?” Skinny lips. Skinny spine.

Jasper had finally looked up from the strawberry cheeked girl in front of him, released their hands, and knocked his head backwards, towards the other soldiers checking tents and cleaning their own horses.

“Just take em back to the storage tent. Not like it’ll be competing for space.” The Major looked back at his men “Calhoun, Jennings, help Arquette move these rations will you? Make yourself useful for once.” His voice didn’t have to boom and condense like a rung out air horn, the cool of his vocal cords carried and personally plucked the not yet men from their activities and dragged them towards the group of three. Like some sort of magic act.

Bella was far from resigned. “So Major Whitlock, what would you like me to do?” Hopeful eyes, always searching to please. Or to piss off— as Emmett always scorned.

An upturn of lips flashed through Jaspers face and he looked to the sky for a mere moment “Mind helping me sort out some of my maps back in camp? My backwoods knowledge ain’t as sharp as my Houston kind and you seem like an expert in this area, getting yourself up to us all alone.” Bella’s feet started to move on instinct towards the felted wool tent covering a hundred or so feet behind the large man, but his hand stopped her at the shoulder, “And, if you don’t mind, would you be my guide back to town this evening? I’ve got to scout the path for the boys to pull through by the end of this week.”

She should’ve thought longer about it, linger over his words, the way his tongue flicked over his canines and brushed noticeably at the edge of his front teeth. But she didn’t. Not now. Not when the time it would’ve taken could pick at the carefully constructed wall built specifically for boys with serpent tongues. And lion hands. And bear teeth and… he still waiting for her response.

A shake to her head “Of course Major. If you’ll help me bring the mules back home, you’d be more help to me than I think I’d ever be to you.”

He could taste her self doubt. And he didn’t like it.

A jut of his brow led them through the ragged campsite, broken down cinders coating the bottom of her unusually worn boots, the lace of her dress clashing horribly with the scent of charred flesh and resting wounds. If only she knew a doctor. If only the town still had one.

His tent was one of the stronger ones, every inch placated with the spine of a book or a map binder or a drape of letters. He needed a desk and a real bed and maybe someone to make sure he stayed warm during the mountain nights.

Jaspers hands found a tiny stack of drawn maps and laid them over his now folded lap on the ground. Bella swiftly found her place at his bended knee and ran a finger over the torn edge. “These look older than my father. It doesn’t even mark the trail you follow to town.” The squishy flesh of her thumb traced an invisible oil line through the mountain and deposited itself in a town with seemingly no name, according to the parchment. “That’s home. If you’re following these maps I don’t quite understand how you ever got here.” Her eyes were full, engorged on road markers and faded city names.

Jasper softly nodded, their heads just inches from each other as she leaned in to scour the map. He had barely gotten to the camp they were in, his right hand Henry doing nearly all of the sight work. He’d be a hell of a tracker if he was a bloodhound. The blond almost chucked at the thought of Henry with big floppy mutt ears, yelping at the pretty girl almost in Jasper’s lap.

Her hair was like a chocolate waterfall. The good chocolate that mama got sent to her from her sister up north, the kind that was broken off continuously, piece after piece fed to him and his sisters until nothing was left.

Part of him wanted to see if she tasted as sweet.

He’d blame it on how damn long it’s been since he’s smelled anything other than soured sores and gunpowder. Even if Miss Isabella Marie smelled good enough to eat. Good enough to take like a man starved. And God— Jasper hungered like no other.

“There’s a river through the valley here, if you can find yourself through the woods.” Bella had found a piece of graphite and drawn in the harsh line of a hidden waterway just a mile or so from camp. She looked up at him as she spoke, her eyes warmly whiskey colored through her lashes.

His mouth clenched. “How old are you Miss McCarty?”

She blinked rapidly, like coming out of a daze. “Seventeen.”

Her hand dropped the instrument to the paper and draw up to his knee, the covered bone sharp under her knuckles.

“Do you have a boy at home waiting for you, Miss McCarty?” Hot air blew from his mouth to hers like a heatwave. Like a curse.

Bella’s lips formed a small “No” as she slid her small hand up the Major’s thigh, her singular ring gliding like margarine inch my inch as the seconds ticked by, each breath marking the two closer.

“Do you have a wife, Major?” Only whisper escaped her rosebud mouth, his face turning downwards, noses only separated by spirit.

“I was too busy waiting for you, it seems, Miss Bella.”

Her heart thumped her chest hard enough to make her ears ring.

Bella’s fist jumped from Jasper’s thigh to his army issued button up and crushed his chest to her own, her lips finding purchase slotted against his, the force clinking their front teeth together without care. His hands were gripping the roots of her soft waves, their skulls as close as their skin would let them. She wanted more, more, the heat suffocating the tent from more than the August sun. Her thin fingers slipped easily through the button gaps as his tongue invaded the privacy of her mouth. A horrible demented part of her brain screamed ‘Take, Take, Take. Mark me down and climb into the spaces that were meant to fit just us.’ Her brother had always called her too much of a dreamer. Too much of a poet and a believer and an artist. But God. This man was in her hands and she felt like a masterpiece.

A man she hardly knew.

But somehow, the scrape of his knuckles against her soon to be bare thighs felt like they had known each other at birth. Like Texas and Tennessee were just minutes from each other. As if they were the only bodies in the whole entire war.

Jasper’s hands were of no gentleman’s when he unfastened the ribbons holding her skirt to her waist, the under coat used for riding coming off like silk in his calloused palms. She was moaning into his mouth, the world outside the tent becoming buttery soft and not to be worried about. All there was was Jasper and his fucking mouth moving to her neck and his teeth toying around her jaw.

“Jesus, Major” He chuckled at her swear and rid her completely of every layer but her shift and the wool of her stockings, the small corset she wore becoming just cannon fodder for the mouth and hands of the Cavalryman.

“I love when you call me that, darlin. Wanna hear you scream it.” She had barely gotten open a single button on his shirt before he brushed the maps out of the way and flipped her on her back underneath him, the sway of his curled mane teasing her, the golden wheat just barely out of the reach of her teeth or fingers.

She wanted to use it like reins.

She’d especially like calling him by his rank then.

“You know I—“ her breathing caught the better of her as he lifted her by her thighs and dragged her ass to his kneeled position, his fingers running up her stockings with particular care, each inch another layer to her growing wetness. She didn’t let go of her breath until he had reached the skirting of her underdress, the white cotton nearly see through with the sweat sticking to every inch of her skin. His watery eyes devoured the sight with an indescribable hunger. Like a wolf hanging over a bleeding lamb.

What a happy sacrifice she’d be.

“Are you a good little southern girl, Isabella?” His fingertips brushed just under the fabric, his intent not easily hidden behind his hardened brow.

She came out trembling, she couldn’t tell over excitement or fear. “Yes Sir. No ones ever…” even her mother would blush saying those words.

Jasper finally smiled, sharp and soul quenching, like a mist of rain before a hurricane.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He couldn’t tell her about the wedding playing out behind his eyes or the static electric resonance he felt thinking about how another man would never get to lay a hand on his pretty Isabella.

His fingers slipped over her cunt, the soft curling hair tickling his fingertips. The moist warmth wet his fingers before skirting over her lips. He almost groaned. She was soaked. He had to see what his little Belle looked like in the light.

Jasper’s eyes met Bella’s giant blown out doe ones, her elbows holding up her upper body, trying to anticipate his very next move.

If they were playing chess, he was going to win. And she had always been a sore loser.

The skirt of the shift creased with the heat of his palms against her stomach, the slightly cooler air blowing across her pussy, making Bella suck in a breath through her teeth, her bottom lip becoming stuck under them with practiced strength.

Her knees knocked against Jasper’s hips as he watched the pink of her pussy clench around nothing, her wet little hole puckering and buzzing with the want of something under his trousers. He licked his lips as he had a gathered two fingers at her slit and traced upwards, her breath coming out in pants as he reached her clit, the engorged nub nearly ringing in her ears. A small circle over it make her moan from her throat. Bella had never felt someone else’s touch, she had never realized how much she wanted for it. She never knew how much she wanted Jasper to touch her.

The solider took his time as he brought the pads of his fingers back down to her achingly small hole and gathered some of her slick, the smell of sweat and Bella nearly driving him half insane as he brought a finger to his mouth, his tongue licking her clean off.

If Bella could speak to God directly and have him reply, she’d thank him for the creation of Major Jasper Whitlock.

But all she could do was cry out for more. And more he silently promised to give.

Maybe too much.

He had to stretch her out, the head of his cock wouldn’t fit into her without an orgasm in her, not now at least. Jasper slowly brought his hand back a third time and entered a single finger, her hips nearly bucking against his wrist as he slowly sat himself. A bead of sweat ran off his brow. A second finger partnered with the first after a few pumps, in and out, in and out. The near wetness coated on those fingers alone could bring him to release in his cot. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Isabella I have to—“ “Please Major I need—“

The two looked at each other, their mouths in sync as they sat, their souls intertwining and bundling up into a bramble of wonderful thorns, coy smiles gracing both their faces.

Bella sat up slowly and draped a hand over Jasper’s belt buckle. “May I, Major?” The shorty craftsmanship of the iron buckle became putty under her unskilled hands as he nodded, now without words for the angel in front of him. The belt was off before the two noticed and Jasper brought his issued pants down to his ankles and off with his shoes to rest with the scraps of her dress he had taken off so quickly.

“Do you… always go bare?” The squeak of Bella’s voice made Jasper snicker like the teenage boy he technically still was, the nineteen year old clicking his teeth together and grinning. “Miss McCarty, sometimes underpinnings only get in the way of an army man.” A deep blush settled into her cheeks as she slapped at his chest, his shirt hanging open just slightly as he pushed her back to the floor.

“Shush, Whitlock.”

His smile turned feral as the head of his cock graced the hood of her clit, bouncing just slightly with the breath of their bodies. Jasper marked in his head that this should be a sight to see on their wedding night, not their first night together, but by God was it a beautiful one.

He looked at her as he grasped one of her hips with his right hand and the base of his cock with his left. “Breathe, Belle. Breathe with me, alright?” She nodded her head slowly and brought her own hand to the tent floor, grasping tightly.

Jasper’s hand guided the head carefully over her lips and to her quivering entrance. One buck and he’d tear her to badly to bear. No matter how long it had been… he’d never rush with his Isabella. Not now.

He slowly pushed in, the stretch a burn like no other, Bella’s voice turning from a quick steal of breath to a long sigh, the air being pushed out as he took her in. Inch by inch she devoured him, the heat marking his cock in emotional third degree burns. The sky burned brighter, the colors in his eyes turned clearer. Her hips and her fragile skin and the slip of her cunt was the end of the world and the birth of something entirely new. She grasped his shoulders as he mumbled a slew of impressive praise as he allowed her to adjust and seated himself at the very base of her cervix. Her throat screamed out to him as her nails dug in his back.

A wonderful, wonderful burn.

Bella slipped a hand to Jasper’s hip to push him back, to set any and all pace so that the fire would keep burning. He quickly slotted his face in the clench of her neck and began to move his pale hips, beginning to push and pull within her very tight walls.

The tent was full of grunts and moans and breathy screams he was sure the entirely camp heard. But Jesus Christ he didn’t give a single damn at that very moment. His boys knew to stay out of his shit and they be proven that every second until his angel’s orgasm.

God he wanted to fill her up. Wanted to take all of his cum and bury it deep where the lord intended, leave her leaking and exhausted and full of everything he had. He’d empty his balls in her again and again if it meant the Tennessee flower in his arms would keep him forever.

He wanted her forever.

“Major, deeper, please God please yes YES.” Jasper’s hips were snapping at a rapid pace, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove her into the hard ground. He could feel her tighten up the way he felt the air change around him before a fight broke out, the way a horse steps on a snake without jumping. There was an electricity in the air and the moment Bella tore his head out from her and pulled him into a jaw crushing kiss, he was crumbling at her feet, her pussy clenching and spasming around his cock with enough force to take out a grizzly bear.

She locked her legs around his hips as he all but collapsed into her, his hair sweaty between her fingers as she combed through it as his dick twitched it’s last time inside her belly. Jasper’s own hands found repentance under her ass and stayed there, too tired to remove himself from her heat.

“That ride home is gonna be sweaty, isn’t it?” Her whisper made her snort and bite into the side of her neck as she giggled.

#btw the link on the summary is always the ao3 link #i cross post things there #jasper/bella #my writing #mine #writing #fic #twilight #thetwilightsaga #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper Whitlock #jasper Cullen #bella swan #confederacy tw #smut tw #smut

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lupin-for-president · 4 years

Text

The Incident

(tw)

—

It was one day after the incident when Sirius Black found himself holding an ice pack to his, now swollen and black, eye.

James had wasted no time in telling Remus exactly what Sirius had done and what would have happened had it not been for him intervening in the last minute.

To say Remus was absolutely pissed would be an understatement.

He marched right up to where Sirius was talking to Lily by the lake, lightly pushed the red head out of the way, and swung as hard as he could at Sirius’ face.

He hit him with so much force that the boy nearly went flying into the lake, catching himself just in time as he clutched a hand over his eye.

The look Remus was giving him could only be described as murderous, and it sent chills down Sirius’ spine as he straightened back up.

Sirius felt his heart shatter right then and there as Remus flung curse word after curse word at him, not holding back in the slightest. Even as tears slowly started to drip from Sirius’ eyes.

Sirius had never seen Remus like this before —it almost reminded him of what he had imagined Remus would be like if he gave way to the wolf just a little— and Sirius never wanted to see this side of him again.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was five days after the incident when Sirius Black found himself bleeding out on the quidditch pitch for the first time.

Snivellus and his band of Deatheater Slytherins had found him laying on the grass watching the stars with tears streaming down his face when they had decided to hex him. As soon as the first wand flashed, Sirius was in an overwhelming amount of pain.

Or at least he would’ve been if he hadn’t already felt so numb.

They stopped casting hexes and left when they noticed that Sirius was hardly breathing, all of them being too scared to stick around and get caught with hurting, or even possibly killing, another student.

Sirius hoped for the latter.

And had it not been for Dorcas and Marlene sneaking around past curfew, that might’ve been the case. They found him blacked out, blood staining all of his clothes with a deep crimson that reflected sickly in the moonlight.

He woke up a few days later with Madam Pomfrey beside his bed, bandaged up from head to toe. She informed him that he would heal up just fine and that there was no permanent damage. He simply thanked her and did his best to muster a smile, but there was no feeling behind it.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was two weeks after the incident when Sirius Black found himself in detention for getting into a fight.

He had passed by a third year boy in the hallway and overheard him having a conversation about a certain werewolf and his suspicious new scars.

The behavior was so unlike Sirius that Professor McGonagall had to do a double take when she forcibly pulled him off of the innocent boy he was pummeling, nearly gasping at the sight of his emotionless and empty grey eyes.

She pulled him to the side, dispersing the crowd of onlookers the fight had caused, and stared down at him with a gaze that was enough to tie Sirius’ stomach into knots.

She wasn’t the first person to give him a look of pure disappointment.

James Potter made sure to give him one of those looks every single day.

He was aware that she knew exactly what had happened just fourteen days prior and he had fully prepared himself to be scolded by her, but instead she just asked if he was alright and if he wanted to talk about it.

Of course he didn’t want to talk about it.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was a month after the incident when Sirius Black found himself having a panic attack in the middle of the Great Hall.

It was the first time he had been in there since Remus had found out what he had done, and Sirius just couldn’t bare the thought of sitting at that god forsaken Gryffindor table.

But he finally forced himself in, taking a seat on the opposite end of his friends, next to a sweet looking second year girl with blonde pigtails. She smiled up at him and he felt his heart clench out of guilt when he couldn’t smile back.

It was only when he looked down and saw that the food in front of him was none other than Remus’ favorite meal, that the air was viciously ripped out of his lungs.

It was all too much.

He started clutching his tightening chest, heaving, gasping, wracking for the breath that he suddenly couldn’t seem to get in through his trembling lips.

The young girl reached her hand out to him, concern pooling in her deep blue eyes, but he simply flinched away. Standing up from his seat, he weakly stumbled out of the Great Hall and into an empty corridor.

He couldn’t let Remus or James or Peter see him like this, he didn’t want them to think he was weak.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was four months after the incident that Sirius Black found himself clutching his knees to his chest as he cried in his bed.

He was in the bathroom when he had heard Remus and James walk in, the two having no idea he was in there. For the first time in months Sirius finally felt an emotion other than heartbreak and self loathing.

“Do you still love him?” James had asked Remus.

“Yes.”

The one word nearly made Sirius scream out with joy, he couldn’t believe it. Moony —his Moony— just admitted that he still loved him. For one, brief moment, Sirius felt a small tinge of hope.

“But I wish I didn’t. And I hate the fact that I do. And I want to stop.”

Then the world came crashing down on him again.

It took everything in him not to break out into crying sobs right then and there, but he waited until they were gone and slowly emerged, staggering blindly to his bed.

The tears were stinging his eyes as he replayed Remus’ words over and over again inside of his head. He had forgotten what hope felt like and wished on everything that he hadn’t had such a small taste of it just then. Sirius would rather be miserable his entire life.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was six and a half months after the incident when Sirius Black found himself staring up at Remus Lupin from the ground.

He was drained, hadn’t slept in at least a week and a half, hadn’t eaten in the past four days —he was getting dangerously skinny— and was hardly able to walk correctly. The dark circles under his eyes looked sickening against his tan skin, but he had long since lost all cause to care.

His head hung heavily between his shoulders, eyes trained to the ground, as he rounded the corridor corner. A weak huff pushed past his lips when a body slammed into him, knocking him down onto his back.

“Shit, are you alri—”

The boy’s words cut off as soon as he saw who he had caused to knock down, Sirius looking blankly up at him. For a second, Sirius nearly thought he saw a wave of concern flash over Remus’ face, but he knew it was just his imagination.

He turned his eyes back down, collecting the books that he had dropped due to the fall, and struggled to push his frail body off of the ground.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, nearly too quiet for the other boy to hear, before continuing his walk to class.

He couldn’t stand to wait around and chance seeing the look of disgust he had grown so accustomed to seeing on Remus’ face reappear. He couldn’t stand to see those pretty pink lips he loved so much curl up into a snarl one more time.

Sirius would rather be dead.

—

It was eight months and three days after the incident when Sirius Black found himself standing on the ledge of the astronomy tower.

His entire body was shaking —whether from the strength it took to stand or the wind billowing past him, he didn’t know— and silent tears were streaming down his flushed cheeks. His knuckles were turning white as he gripped onto the stone, the only thing keeping him in place.

He just couldn’t anymore.

He couldn’t wake up one more day knowing that Remus —and his other two best friends that he loved more than anything in the world—hated him.

He couldn’t go through another potions class watching Remus’ hands shake any time a Slytherin sent him even the smallest glance, sometimes even causing him to drop a vile altogether.

He couldn’t walk through the hall all by himself as the people he cared for most brushed past him like he was nothing more than a vapor, a nonexistent ghost floating by.

He couldn’t spend one more night staring numbly up at the top of his red and gold four poster bed, curtains tied shut, as he listened to Remus’ laughter.

He just couldn’t.

He couldn’t live with the fact that he had hurt the one boy he swore on his entire life he would always protect. It was all too much for him to bare and it was crushing him and the pain was just so excruciating.

So his hand let go, and he lifted his foot to step off the ledge, eyes trained forward to the waning moon in the sky.

Sirius would rather be dead.

And he would’ve been.

Had it not been for the pale hand that wrapped around his wrist just in time, yanking the weak boy back into the tower and into a firm chest.

Sirius could hardly stand, his knees finally giving out beneath him, his body only being held up by the arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Looking down at him, tears spilling out of his amber eyes, was a very heartbroken Remus Lupin. Sirius was confused, holding onto his consciousness just long enough to hear one sentence slip from the scarred boy’s mouth.

“I don’t want you dead.”

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weirdfetishes123 · 3 years

Text

A Day at the Beach - deviantart

Characters:

Mark- 18, white, 5'10, 165lbs, athlete (toned).

Cindy – 18, white, small shapely breasts, round ass, thin

It was the beginning of summer vacation for Mark and Cindy who had just begun dating 2 weeks prior. They decided to celebrate the warm weather by going to the beach. Mark was wearing blue board shorts that showed of his tanned, swimmers body. His abs were perfect and his ass was very shapely. He was named hottest boy at his high school and had every girl to choose from, but for some reason he chose Cindy. She was very cute but not all that busty as some of the other girls were. She was very skinny with small but perfectly round breasts and a nice ass as well. She showed off her cute body as she wore a skimpy white bikini. The two had just started dating but were yet to have sex. Mark was hoping the day would come soon as he sat watching her walk towards the water as he sat on the beach. He watched her ass sway and imagined himself grabbing it, pulling down that little swimsuit and fucking her doggie style. She was shining in the sun, god he wanted to fuck her. It was at that moment that he suddenly got a rock hard erection. Being a well-equipped man, his rock hard 7" cock was noticeable through his board shorts. The beach was very busy and so at his embarrassment he chased after Cindy into the water so that the water might hide his horny body. Cindy smiled at him as he came crashing into the water, she giggled starring at Mark. "What?" Mark asked, she simply giggled and said, "Did I see what I thought I saw”

M- "what are you talking about"

C- "I think you know."

M- "Jeez, you saw that"

C- "Your kind of hard to miss"

M- " Sorry, honey"

C- "Don't apologize"

With that Cindy came up to him and grabbed his crotch under the oceans surface. Marks felt the immense pleasure course through his body as he felt he was about the blow. Cindy then grabbed him and led him out of the ocean. She lead him into a sand dune, outside of public view, where she threw him to the ground and then started kissing him all over, she was ready for him now. She wanted his cock in her. She was worried because he was so big but she was so horny at the moment that she didn't care, she wanted it all. Just when she was about to rip of his shorts, she spotted it, a strange bunch of small trees with all different types of fruit growing off of them. She stopped for a second.

M-"What's wrong baby"

C-"Did you know fruit trees grew near the ocean"

M-"What, ugh, come on baby, I want you."

With that she got an idea, she went over to one of the trees and picked a banana looking fruit off of it despite a warning sign and began, sucking on it up and down. Mark just laughed and playing along went over to a blueberry bush amongst the trees and began sucking lightly and joking on the berry. They started laughing. Cindy then peeled the banana with her teeth and put the banana in her mouth. She walked over to Mark and placed into his mouth. He laughingly took the banana and plopped the berries into her mouth he took one bite of the banana and threw it away. She then ate the blueberries and went back to the love making. They began kissing passionately when suddenly Mark leaped up almost in pain and grabbed his crotch through the board shorts. He winced.

C-"Mark whats wrong, did you cum"

M-"No, agh, It feels different and weird, like theirs pressure building up down there"

C-" Mark, don't worry, premature ejaculation is no big deal"

M-" No, Fucl, its not that"

With that Mark suddenly let go and looked down only to receive a shock. He certainly felt it and Cindy saw it. She noticed that his crotch was growing.

M-" What the fuck is happening to me"

He felt as though he was getting an erection that kept building, as the pressure grew so did his dick. He then tore of his board shorts to reveal his black boxer-briefs, god his abs looked good. His crotch just kept growing, he pulled open the dick hole and let his dick poke out. His rock hard penis sprang out at a whopping 9''. It looked different, Mark knew it had never been that big ever and it was much veinier.

C-"Wow, mark, I never you were that big, your like a horse"

M-" I'm not that big, something's worng"

His dick began increasing in girth and size. It was no 10, then before he knew it 15" long. Then the girth increased to the size of a can of soup. Mark looked horrified. He noticed his dick was a yellowish tink and felt creamy inside. That's when Cindy made an observation.

C-" Mark your dick looks like a gaint banana"

M- "The Fruit!"

With that Cindy then leapt up as she felt a painful pressure begin in her stonach.

C- "Mark, my stomach feels bad"

M – "Cindy! Your turning blue and growing"

Mark was right. Cindy's tummy began plumping up. She looked slightly pregnant.

C- "I'm blowing up!"

Cindy breasts then lept into action. The turned blue and began filling her swimsuit top. They kept growing from peaches, to melons, until they reached watermelon size, when the started leaking juice. A blue juice that stained her once white bikini top. Her ass then followed and her and everything else. She tried to walk and then found it too painful so just laid down. Mark watched in amazement, and was increasing turned on by this new change. This horniness then spawned another transformation in him. He felt the pressure return but instead of his cock, he felt it in his balls. During the change the walnut sized average boy's balls had been neglected but not now. They began filling up with a creamy filling, similar to what mark though banana paste would be like. His boxer-briefs, already having a strained dick hole from the new girth began growing tight because of the growing balls. He tried to pull them off but his cock made this difficult. The balls just kept growing turning banana yellow in the process. The boxer-briefs then began to strain and the stitched began to pop. Suddenly the wasteband snapped and he was free, fully nude with his growing ball sack filling with the cream. Meanwhile, Cindy was more than supple and completely blue. The more turned on she got by watching Mark, the less worried she got and the more horny she got. Her top was straining and her bottom was turning into a thong under the strain as she kept inflating like the blueberry girl from willy wonka. Suddenly her top popped of and then her bottom, her arms and legs were getting engulfed into her rounding blueberry body comprised of boob, ass, and belly. She She was leaking juice out of every crevice. Mark and Cindy looked at each other, and then as if from no where mark used his strength towalk his huge cock and balls(still growing) over to her. She was immobile and was worried to take such a large cock, but then she realized that in the expansion her pussy enlarged as well. Mark then took the massive 15" cock and thrust it in her, blueberry juice sprayed every where. The passionate fucking began. The blueberry blob and huge banana cocked boy. Mark notice that as he continued to fuck her brains out with an immense strength the juice leaked everywhere and she began getting smaller. Her pussy still remained huge enough to handle the cock though. She began to look more human again as her belly shrank down to nine month pregnancy look and her breasts turned back into peaches. Mark was worried though, because while she was getting better he was still huge. His balls had stopped growing but they were each the size of basketballs, and becoming very heavy. While continuing the fuck, he began thinking that while he would be popular with the ladies, which he really didn't need help with, that the massive new cock and balls would ruin his lean refined look he had worked so hard for. He then looked back down at Cindy, she was back to her normal size except her breats were bigger and her ass too. Her stomach was back to it skinny self and the blue color began to fade. He could see his massive cock in her as he watched the bulge move up and down in her skinny tummy. He still wasn't changing. Then he felt himself tense up, shit, he was ready to blow, she felt it too.

C-" Oh god, I'm so ready"

M-" Ahhhh"

Mark then blew his load wil a feeling he had never felt before. Cum came out of his cock, still inserted, like a firehose. It didn't feel like cum though it was thicker and pastier. He then felt the pressure begin to reduce in his balls very slightly. As he came though, he noticed that none came out of her vagina. Cindy began feeling a pressure build up in her stomach/womb. She began to wimper as she felt th pressure increasing, his nuts were now a ¾ of the old size. She began to cry as her tummy filled with the cream. He continued to come though, and he filled her. By the end Mark's balls looked proportionally like golf balls which fit his now 12'' cock. The rest filled Cindy she had a belly like a pregnant woman. They then passed out next to each other.

The rest is pretty self explanatory. They both awoke from the experience at night and used the cover of darkness to go back to their homes. They continued dating for a long time. Cindy's pregnant belly emptied out as she spent some time pumping it out with a vacuum she had. She ended up having a little pouch tummy, melon sized breasts and a nice rump that kept Mark always horny. Mark now has a 12'' cock and golf ball sized balls that compliments his muscular sexy tanned physique.

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glitterbootsharry · 4 years

Text

chapter five

taglist

“I fuckin’ ‘ate Harry,” Daphne sips on her endless mimosa- the orange liquid sloshing against the clear glass as Daphne emphasizes her words with her hand, sunglasses hiding the dark circles that seemed to appear overnight on the very dull grey Wednesday mid-morning. Her fork scraped over the white china, trying to push the food around so it looked like Daphne actually ate something. Eliza’s face furrowed, in disbelief, as she leaned on the outdoor table with her elbows.

“Why? You loved him so much you moved in right away and he-” Eliza’s protest was cut short with Daphne sighing dramatically.

“He’s full of ‘imself and he won’t apologize to me for what happened last week, piece of shit,” Daphne’s eyes roll as her croissant nearly fell off her plate. She huffs as she picks her bread up and feverishly begins to chew as a passing car honks the horn. “He literally....”

“Took you on a date with Alex and his new girl and what? Did he not kiss you goodnight? Offer a good shag?” Eliza was trying to hide her ever growing smile- she tapped on her empty glass with her coffin nails waiting for a refill. The fact that Daphne was this upset over a double date was hilarious to the brunette.

“Gross. Never will kiss Harry, but no. He’s been a complete arsehole ever since I saw him with... Stephen.”

“So? He was laughing with the bloke at work. It’s not like-“

“Eliza Jane Harrington, he was seen canoodling with the enemy. It gets worse; just let me finish.”

☕︎︎

Harry hears the faint knock on the front door when his eyes open. Normally, he’s a sound sleeper- only the smell of food or the loud blaring of a weather alert pulling him from his slumber. But with Daphne gently moaning with her mouth slightly agape, Harry slept lightly in case she needed anything.

He rolled out of bed hoping the creaking of his body and bed wouldn’t wake Daphne. He closes the white door softly before scoffing at the absurd amount of knocks that whoever is doing. He opens the door to find Alex in a state.

“I need you mate, I really do,” Alex’s worried voice carries over the white flat as he walks through the entryway, not giving Harry a proper hello. Harry closes the door, sighing as he curses at the universe for waking him early on a Sunday. “I really cocked it up with this girl. I actually asked her out on a date.”

“Oh no, the world is in shambles. You’ve completely lost the plot, mate. I dunno what to tell you,” Harry crosses his arms as Alex shuffles across the floor.

“I mean I like her, I really do, but I actually asked her out. Proper. On a date,” Alex looks up to his friend with a look that worries Harry for a second. He had a plan.

“You could come with. Yeah, make it a double?” Alex’s voice was now excited as he nearly screamed in place. Harry steps forward with a stern look on his face. He motions with his head at his closed bedroom door.

“Quiet, or you’ll wake Daphne.”

“Are you joking mate? Daphne’s in there?” Alex was at a loss for words as he pointed with his hand at Harry’s closed bedroom door. Harry’s finger finds his mouth and shushes his friend back to a library safe tone in fear of waking Daphne. “What about Amelia?”

“Mate...” Harry’s voice broke flat as his face scrunched together. “Really? Nothing’s going on between us. She... We watched a movie and she got scared. It’s not the first time.”

“Not the first time?!” Alex’s voice raised again before he spoke more quietly after Harry gave him a stern look only Alex knew that he was driving into dangerous waters. “You mean to tell me that your beautiful, sexy flatmate has spent the night in your bed and you didn’t get a leg over?”

“No, and if you don’t drop it now, I’ll shove my foot so far up your arse when I bend me toes, I’ll tickle your brain.”

“Drop what?” Daphne stood at the opened doorway yawning. She rubbed her eyes adjusting to the bright light coming from the main room’s windows.The low murmurs woke her to an empty bedroom. She had outstretched to find Harry only he wasn’t there. Her hair was frizzy and tangled from her tossing in the middle of the night- vivid nightmares keeping her awake as Harry softly snored from sleeping on his naked torso. Her chestnut eyes were red and puffy, laying out evidence of a terrible night’s sleep.

“Alex was just...” Harry couldn’t find any words. He watched as Daphne walked closer to them in a shirt Daphne didn’t wear to bed. She was wearing his. It was a bit tight across the chest, but she looked ravishing.

“Asking Harry to a double date next Friday. I have a girl that I want to take her out, and I thought it would be less weird if someone else was there,” Alex smiled at Harry before drawing his attention to Daphne’s hardened nipples. Harry punches Alex in the arm when he notices.

“Oh that would be fun. Amelia going with you?” Daphne’s raspy voice creaks through the room. This always happened to her when she would cry herself to sleep.

“No she’s out of town then. Ya know, work,” Harry sheepishly rubs the back of his neck. “Which we need to get ready for.”

“It’s Sunday, Harry. No one’s working,” Daphne rolls her eyes as she tugs on the grey hem hoping it would magically cover more of her torso.

“What about you Daph? You in? We’re going to the National Gallery and mini golfing.”

“What an odd combination,” Daphne laughs at Alex. “Sure as long as Harry here is ready to be dominated at mini golf.” Daphne kisses Alex on the cheek and rests her hand on Harry’s chest- his heart beating fast. He prays that she can’t feel the dern muscle pumping against his skin. She looks up at him and smiles softly before letting her hand cascade slowly across his chest and down his arm.

Daphne stops short of her bedroom door and listens to the rest of the conversation that she had been eavesdropping on.

“I’m tellin’ you mate she’s got the hots for ya,” Alex’s voice is beginning to fade as Daphne assumes Harry is shoving him out the door. Daphne’s heart twists as she comes to an all sudden realization. She had been staring at Harry for far too long this morning.

“Yeah, you bloody wanker, and I’m the King of England.”

☕︎︎

Vera was nice. Beautiful, as if she had stepped out of a photoshoot or off the runway, Daphne couldn’t decide between the two, but the one thing that annoyed Daphne was the obnoxious laugh that carried throughout the entire building. Daphne swore she would hear the tune of laughter in her nightmares until days to come. It wasn’t a small laugh, no- it was a wide laugh that was in your face over the smallest of things. Alex made a corny joke, one like Harry would make, and while Daphne and Harry chuckled, Vera laughed from her belly with her mouth wide open as if she was in a comedy club.

Daphne counted the few peaceful moments of the evening as a reminder that the agonizing pain was to be over with soon. In the National Gallery, the two pairs went off on their own. Daphne found herself wondering over to the marble statues, listening to the recorded facts of each piece that hummed in the ear set. She had always wondered how much beauty could be formed from a block of materialized rock.

-ONE-

“It’s fascinating how the artist can make the sheer gown look real,” Harry whispers, leaning over to Daphne’s free ear. She jumped feeling quite startled as Harry pulled her back to reality. She imagined each chisel, each precise stroke that went behind every curve and point of the artwork. One wrong move and everything was over. When she looked up at Harry, his quiet smile ceasing to end, her heart pummeled inside itself. She hoped it was still from the scare.

“Yeah, I would love to see David in Florence. Michelangelo really was something else in the art world. And DiVinci. These are just....breathtaking,” Daphne smiled as she nudged Harry in the side with her elbow after his “Oh, we’re not talking about the Ninja Turtle?” joke. “How’s Miss Laugh and Mister Funny?” Harry looks around the room as if he’s lost something before turning to Daphne. He searches behind the tall naked woman before calling out Alex and Vera’s names.

“You haven’t heard them? Maybe someone kidnapped them?” Harry asks as his smile grows. “Or maybe they were escorted out due to disturbing the paintings.”

The small laughter between the two of them filled the open room. Daphne clutched Harry’s elbow, the tan block sweater burning into his skin as she looked up at him. Her brown eyes were growing dark and he wondered what it would be like to hear her laughter in his darkened bedroom in the lull of early morning when both were too awake to sleep, only running on hysteria. Daphne begins to walk to another statue across the way and wonders if there were ever any technology to capture the sound of laughter and make it into a painting, she would be willing to bet pounds that Harry’s laughter would sit next to the statue of David.

Harry hummed quietly as he followed Daphne through the statues. He took in, silently and stealthily, Daphne’s beauty. Her blonde hair was in a high pony, swaying the air around her as she walked. She wore the purple cashmere sweater that kept the cold November air at bay from her body with her black ripped skinny jeans. When Daphne walked out in those jeans with only her black lace brassiere on, Harry cleared his throat as he looked anywhere but in Daphne’s direction.

“As if you haven’t seen a naked woman before, Haz,” Daphne laughed as she took her cup of tea back to her bedroom.

“Won’t your knees get cold?” Harry called out after Daphne, only before she closed the door- the image of her raven torso tattoo burning in his mind.

“Not as cold as your heart,” Daphne yelled, a smile growing on her face.

“Should I be offended?” Harry laughed to himself.

Harry stands behind Daphne- close enough to smell her rich perfume. He thinks about wrapping his hands around her waist, pulling her head against his shoulder to kiss her. Shouldn’t he have these thoughts about Amelia?

Across the open hallway was a tall blonde man watching Daphne. His blue eyes followed her when she looked up at the looming statues with appreciation and love. Harry could see the wanting in his eyes, and it made his stomach churn. Anger tinged his soul as gingerly grasped Daphne’s hand- her cool skin setting a fire against his warm skin.

“Don’t look now, but some bugger is staring at you,” Harry whispered as he pulled Daphne into his embrace. Her honey eyes search his green ones, trying to understand what Harry was exactly doing. “Don’t want you chatting some boy up on our date.”

-TWO-

“You totally cheated,” Harry huffed as Daphne’s golf ball rings inside the white hole.

“You can’t cheat at mini-golf, Harry. ‘S not possible.” Daphne walked over to the small hole and grabbed her purple ball before shifting her weight to one hip as she waited for Harry to put his own. “Oh my God, is that Elton John?”

Harry looks up to where Daphne is looking as he hits the green ball only for it to miss the hole entirely.

“I swear to God, Daphne, I hate you,” Harry sighed, a fine line forming across his face where his lips were. He hated losing almost as much as saying he was sorry.

“Yeah well, get over it,” Daphne smiled. The one thing that really had been eating at Daphne was building the courage to confront Harry about a certain moment that happened earlier in the week. She had gone to take Harry’s forgotten packed lunch when the lift doors opened to Harry laughing loudly at a tall brunette man whose back was turned to her.

She waltzed across the room, not really caring at the moment since she herself was running late as it was, mind you, that she didn’t have time to carry Harry’s lunch across town to him. She extended her hand out, giving Harry’s cold leftovers to him and when she turned to leave, her heart sank.

She should have known who it was before she walked over to Harry- the slight build of the back, the deep voice that carried through her, the intense glare she had gotten from him.

“Stephen,” she hissed, not caring who was around. “How’s the slag from accounting? Still working out for you, yeah?” Daphne gave Harry a eat-shit-and-die look before turning to leave. “See you at home, Harry.”

Daphne yawned as Harry’s face furrowed in anger. She purposely made him miss so that she could win, but the smile that was plastered on her face when Harry straightened himself made the anger of losing melt away.

“Do you want some hot cocoa?” Daphne asked as Harry lined himself with the ball, solely concentrating on his game. “My treat.”

“Yeah sure, but please don’t leave me for long. I don’t know if I could stand it,” Harry motions his head over to the obstacle hole next to the pair. Vera was being coached by Alex, his body hovering against hers as they swung the club in the air for practice and her laugh stifling the air. “Still don’t know how she’s made it this long without playing.”

“It’s been a long twenty-eight years, I’ll tell you that,” Daphne chirps before handing Harry her club before leaving the faux grass. The giant plastic elephant’s trunk swung open barely missing Daphne’s head, Harry laughed and she gave him the middle finger.

“In your dreams, darling,” Harry called out into the cold night air as he watched his roommate walk to the queue.

“Two hot chocolates please,” Daphne ordered, her hair flying in the night air. The smell of pretzels and fired hot dogs fill her nose and she’s reminded of the circus.

“£3.50,” Daphne handed her card and the lady quickly swiped it through the card reader. “Receipt?”

“No thanks,” Daphne smiled. Looking back at Harry, he’s waiting as patiently as he can with his wait on his hip and his hand on the opposite for Alex and Vera to move to another hole. She laughs at the thoughts Harry could possibly be thinking.

“Be a minute, love.”

Daphne watches her flatmate from afar, wondering what life would be if she hadn’t responded to the advertisement those months ago.

Bland. Desolate. You’d be living with your parents again.

“Here you go, love. Enjoy.” The counter lady places the hot cups on the counter and when Daphne turns to be with Harry again after gently picking the scolding hot cups, they’re suddenly on a stranger.

She couldn’t stop herself from turning and crashing into a tall handsome man who looked out of place. In a land of mini-golf, he looked as if he belonged on the Master’s grass.

“So sorry, I should have looked,” Daphne mumbled out of her mouth as she tried to dry off the spilled milk with the few napkins she grabbed. “Let me pay for cleaning,” she looked up at the man who, for someone who just had hot chocolate spilled on them, was calm and almost laughing.

“Honestly, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have been standing so close.” Daphne continued to pat the growing spot to soak up as much of the liquid as she can. “Don’t worry about cleaning, it’s an old shirt anyways. Name’s Matt.”

He extends his hand and when Daphne finally stops patting him down, she shakes his hand. His face, Daphne came to the conclusion, was chiseled from God himself. He took extra time with this Matt. High cheekbones, structure jaw that she could see herself sitting on, blue ocean eyes that she could get lost in.

Still holding his hand, Daphne finds herself feeling small. “Daphne. Daphne Rose Jones. I’m a Sagittarius.” Matt laughs as he tousles his dirty blonde hair with his free hand. His smile stretches across his face. “Matt Jerome Barr. I have no clue what sign I am.”

“Guess we would need to research it then,” Daphne felt her face get hot from embarrassment. Did she really just say that?

“I guess so,” Matt’s voice hummed low as he finally lets go of Daphne’s hand. “You with anyone here, love?”

“Yeah, just my roommate. He’s over there with his friend and girly friend thing,” Daphne looks over to Harry who is now watching Daphne interact with a tall bloke.

“You live with a guy? He’s gay?” Matt asks, his brow quirking up.

“No. He’s got a girl. She isn’t here- on business. But yeah totally straight.”

“Interesting.” Matt wanted nothing more than to run his hands through Daphne’s hair.

“That’s not the only interesting thing here,” Daphne purred, her honey eyes going completely black. “I’m winning at mini-golf.”

“That is very interesting. How about you and I go a couple of rounds later? Say next Friday?” Matt asks, his hands toying with Daphne’s.

☕︎︎

“What was that all about?” Harry asks as Daphne hands him his cup. He sips slowly, letting the hot liquid soothe his throat.

“Spilled the drinks on him. Had to apologize properly,” Daphne’s eyes darted down to the faux grass, “and then he asked me out next Friday.”

“Next Friday? We were going to do the naked painting thing,” Harry’s smile crooks in a corner as Daphne laughs. She makes her stance at her ball before once again getting a hole in one.

“We’ll always have the naked painting thing.” Daphne kisses Harry on the cheek and he feels his heart breaking one piece at a time.

####

taglist: @starboyhaz

#harry styles #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry 1d #harry styles 1d #harry styles ofc #1dff

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george-mackay-macfine · 4 years

Text

Dear Diary,

A/N - This has taken me a hot minute to get this done. Also hasn’t been proof read.

Request

Word Count: 4,289

Synopsis: George cheers Y/N up after she’s cheated on.

July 26th 2011,

Dear Diary,

That’s how these things work right? I start each entry by saying ‘Dear Diary’ and then verbally purging my innermost thoughts onto these painfully white pages in hopes of a self soothe type therapy? I guess it’s something I’ll have to try to work out any sort of lifetime trauma I’ve undoubtedly built up over the years, and there is the saying don’t knock it till you try it? Well, here we go.

I’m sure no one is curious as to why I’d be starting a diary at seventeen, nearly eighteen years into my life and that's because Y/N no one but you should be reading this diary, but on the off chance someone is, It’s probably definitely because I can’t afford therapy, and for as long as I’ve known Bridget Jones always found it helpful in her later years to write down the events of her life in her diary. Heck, they even helped her lose some weight, Christ knows I could probably use that, Of course, her life was undoubtedly a lot more interesting than mine will ever be, but either way she found sense in writing her memories down, So why would she lead me astray.

If anyone ever asks I’ll say I’m doing it so when I’m old and grey I can look back on all the memories and think about my life, how I spent it, how far I’ve come.

But if they dug a little deeper, not even that much deeper, like an inch tops, you’d see it’s because I don’t ever want to forget a detail about him, Georgeander Richards, the most beautiful boy I’d ever seen.

Meeting him happened at Ben Daniels’ end of year party, but since I’ve only decided to start a diary today. I guess we’ll need to take a jump back in time. Ben always throws the first party at the end of the year, and now as graduates, everyone had more reason to party. His parties were renowned for being the place to be if you wanted to;

Lose your virginity.

Take someone's virginity

Get over a horrendous break up by getting absolutely shit faced

Forget about how badly you did in your tests.

Mourn the loss of your formative years and in turn your youth.

Or you’d attend to witness the utter demise of your faith in humanity.

I was here for the third reason.

July 16th 2011, Ben Daniel’s Start of Summer Party.

Smoke filled the air, thick and hazy. I couldn’t be sure if it was coming from the smoke machine Ben had hired to add to the ‘atmosphere’, or if it was coming from the cigarettes that everyone seemed to be chain-smoking, It could also be coming from the bong that Freddie Ashby was using.

Either way, the source of the smoke was unclear.

“Have you seen Sarah?” I asked Freddie as I asked him. He looked up from his bong, eyes wide and filled with humour. He nodded his head a stupid bloody smile on his face. God Freddie, you were literally the stereotypical stoner that was in EVERY bloody American High School movie. “Well, where is she?” I asked the irritation that clipped my tone was lost on Freddie.

“Oh, she’s in the lounge room.” He extended the bong out to me. “Take a hit, for old times?” I pushed it back against his chest gently. Freddie was always nice I guess but right now I was on a mission.

“Maybe later Fred, I just need to find Sarah first.” Freddie nodded his head, Lips wrapping around the mouthpiece, black lighter lit in his hands going to the bowl. I didn’t stay to watch Freddie light up. Instead, I pushed through the solid crowd into the living room. Hannah Jamieson saw me first. She tapped her boyfriend Connor Hughes on the shoulder, One by one people turned. I smiled at the all, confused as I made my way around the living room. It wasn’t until I was in front of Ben’s mum's floral settee did I stop.

My heart dropped through my ass, out of my chest cavity and right through. Hitting the floor before being tramped on my a storm of hippos. That’s how it felt at least, and no amount of smoke was thick enough to hide the act of deceit happening on Ben’s mum's floral settee.

Julian McDonald, my boyfriend of six months and my best friend of eleven fucking years Sarah Olsen, making out in front of everyone. Julian was shoving his tongue down Sarah’s throat while Sarah copped a feel of what Julian had to offer the world through his signature black skinny jeans. I was sure if she kept rubbing she’d wear a hole in the worn denim.

“Isn’t that…” Morgan Franks, the other oblivious stoner of our school pointed to the two, as if everyones attention wasn’t already on them.

“Yeah.” I breathed out looking as Julian’s hand snaked up to cop a feel of Sarah’s boob, much to the entertainment of everyone in the room who whooped and hollered in approval suddenly forgetting that I was there and that was my boyfriend and best friend making out. “Sure is.” I turned on my heel, my old ratty converses squeaking as I turned, walking back the way I’d came. Nobody bothered watching me this time. Things had heated up between Julian and Sarah enough to keep their attention.

“Watch where you’re going.” Someone yelled as I pushed through the growing crowd of horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds who were desperate for a sneak peek at the live porn show currently unfolding on Ben’s mum's bloody floral settee.

I want to burn the fucking thing.

I’d decided there was only one place I could be right now, and that was the patio on the roof. Snagging an unopened bottle of vodka as I went I rushed up the three flights of stairs. Anyone who’d ever been to one of Ben’s parties in the past knew about the rules of the roof. It was the only place in the whole house where you could sit and have a quiet conversation without anyone disturbing you, bumping into you, or in some cases groping you. It was party law that if you were on the roof you were quiet, and that is why the roof was always relatively empty. Maybe a random couple hooking up in the corner, or the emo-loner kid who wanted to be included without actually being included sat up here.

Now I joined them. The brokenhearted girl who was now planning on getting completely shit faced on a full bottle of Vodka.

“Ah fuck.” The ground was uneven at the top of the stairs where the door jamb and the concrete didn’t quite level out together, the bottle of vodka I’d grabbed nearly hit the ground had I not been able to grab onto the neck of the bottle seconds before it smashed into the concrete.

“Rough night?” I jumped, heart racing out of my chest, shock coursing through my veins. I looked up, across the roof near the ledge stood a boy, casually dressed in jeans and a t-shirt with a cigarette hanging from his left hand. He was the only one up here, no random couple, no emo-loner kid, Just the boy with the cigarette. He turned more towards me, bringing the cigarette to his lips. “Or do you always nearly drop a full bottle of vodka the minute you walk into a room.”

“This isn’t a room,” I called cockily, as I stood up, balance restored. The stranger looked around, a tooth filled smile creeping up onto his face. “It’s a roof.”

“Touche.” He extends his hand towards the space next to him, an unspoken invitation for me to join him. Slowly, cautiously I walk towards the stranger. We were the only two on the roof, he maintains his eye contact with me until I’m standing beside him. I take a good look at him. His jaw was square and sharp. His cheeks lightly tanned and covered in a days worth of stubble. His eyes were big, round… Childlike and welcoming. In the dark light I could barley see the beautiful blue of his eyes as I stood by him. “So, has it been a rough night.” I chuckled in self pity before plonking down by his feet. Vodka bottle in front of me.

“My boyfriend is cheating on me.” I twisted the lid of the bottle. “With my best-friend… Right now.” I moved the bottle towards my lips. “Actually if you’re interested they’re giving everyone the opportunity to catch a free, live porn show… Just go down and ask Ben where his mums bloody floral settee is.” I chugged down some of the clear liquid as the boy sat beside me. Coughing as it burned its way down my throat. “Other than that, it’s a pretty stock standard Ben Daniel’s party. Music is too loud, too shitty and everyone’s packed in like sardines.” I held the bottle out to him. In return he offered his cigarette.

“I’ll admit, Ben does always over extend the invite.” He looked around us. “This is the only place you can really move.” I extended the bottle to him. He took it, exchanging it for his cigarette. “But I did hear yelling’s of the porn show from down below.” He tipped his head back, swallowing some of the liquid as I took a drag of his cigarette. I was never one to smoke, apart from social situations, and this I suppose one would consider to be a social situation. “Sounds like a shitty best-friend and a really fucking shit boyfriend…”

“Ex-best-friend, and I guess ex-boyfriend.” I exhaled the smoke. The burning filled my lungs. I coughed a little at the very end, lungs burning.

“Sorry, Ex-best-friend.” He took another swig of the vodka. “I’m George.”

“Y/N.” We swapped items again. “You don’t go to our school do you? I mean with Ben…” George shook his head.

“Nah, I go to the private school.” Holy shit, this was George MacKay, the same George MacKay that Sarah was in obsessed with.

“Christ on a bike, You’re that George.” He turned to me.

“That George? I didn’t know I was deserving of a that before my name.” He chuckled.

“Of course, you need context, sorry…” I cleared my throat. “Sarah, the ex-best-friend, the one making out with the ex-boyfriend, she has the BIGGEST crush on you… She’d always go to any of the parties in town in hopes of seeing you there… If only she were here now.” I shook my head, karma sometimes was a bitch.

“Your best-friend —.”

“Ex,” I mumbled as I tipped the bottle up to my lips.

“Sorry, your ex-best-friend is Sarah Olsen… Stalker Sarah…” Vodka flew out of my mouth, not exactly the most lady-like of things when you’re sitting with one of the hottest boys in your town, alone on a roof… Great job Y/N.

“I’m sorry, but what did you just call her.” I spun on my legs a little, my body facing his. He mirrored my actions. I wiped the vodka from my face, ladylike.

“Stalker Sarah, it’s the name my mates came up with for her… I had no part in it.” He held his hands up in defence.

“Jesus, why’d you call her that?”

“Well, like you said she’d come to all the parties in town. When she was there she wouldn’t dance, she wouldn’t drink… She’d just stand there and stare at me. She didn’t blink for five minutes once… It was like she was waiting for me to talk to her.” He shook of the memories. “God, it was so uncomfortable.”

“My god, seriously.” George nodded his head feverishly. He grabbed the vodka from between us, bringing it to his lips.

“You know I never thought it’d be sat here at one of Ben Daniel’s parties with Stalker Sarah’s ex-best-friend.” There was a moment of silence between us. I guess we were both wrapped up in the revelations.

“You look different to how she described you.” George shook his head.

“She described what I looked like to you?” I nodded my head. “Why?”

“Case I ever saw you at a party, I was to tell her immediately.”

“Did you?” I shook my head no. “She’s insane you know. One time she told a girl I was seeing that she was pregnant with my kid, and the girl was stopping us being together.”

“Are you fucking serious.” George nodded his head. “I’m sorry she did that to you.”

“Not your fault, you don’t control her…” He stamped out his cigarette as he passed the bottle back. “You think you’ll ever forgive them?”

“To quote Hamlet, Act three, Scene three, Line 87… No.” Another smile broke across his face, this one bigger than the first.

“You can really quote Hamlet down to the line numbers?” I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s true what they say about you Y/N Y/L/N, you are one of a kind.”

“How do you know my last name?”

“I knew who you were the second you step out onto this roof.” He motioned for me to lean in closer to him as if he were about to tell me a national secret. “I familiarised myself with all of Stalker Sarah’s friends, incase any of them ever came up to me at a party and tried to tell me ALL about their great friend, and how wonderful we’d be together. I didn’t realise you were the ‘best’ friend’ though.” I shrugged my shoulders.

“Not anymore… But she did try to get me to do that once ya know…” I lent in closer to him, ready to unload my own confession. “But I told her I was going to be sick and got out of there before you even showed up.”

“Smart girl.”

“So my grades say.”

“So I’ve heard.” My eyebrow raised. “I’ve heard a few things about you actually…”

“You have?” He nodded his head, a sinful smirk covering on his lips.

“Best-friends with stalker Sarah, now ex.” He corrected himself when my mouth opened to correct him. “Smart as all hell, probably going to be doctor or a lawyer, and you were dating THE biggest jackass in your school.” Part of me couldn’t believe that George MacKay, the boy Sarah had always gone on and on about knew so many things about me. I know their not major things, but its still something.

“That’s a lot of things,” He chuckled, laying back on the floor of the roof eyes cast upwards towards the star filled sky. “Not nearly as many things as I’ve heard about you, but still a lot.”

“What have you heard about me then?”

“George MacKay, you’re the ‘it’ boy of your school.” He scoffed at the title. “Every girl from my school, your school the school in the next town over wants to date you.” I laid down beside him. “You’re also rather smart… You get good grades, play football. Everyone thinks you’re going to be a model right out of school.”

“Basic things then.”

“You’re the not so bad, ‘bad boy’ that all the girls want to be good for them.” I rolled my eyes in disgust over the strong of words I’d heard come out of Sarah’s mouth one too many times. “It’s a rather romantic notion really, if you’re fourteen.”

“You know what they say about bad boys.” George whispered I felt his breath against my cheek. “Bad boys do it better.”

“Oh my god.” I chuckled. “You say stuff like that to girls? Does that work for you?” I turned to look at him, our noses now touching.

“You tell me.” He smiled again, my breathing hitched slightly. I looked at him again, this was George MacKay, the boy that Sarah told me I would never have a chance with, no matter how much makeup I wore, how much weight I lost, how much I pushed my tits up. He would only ever be interested in a girl like her, not me. Yet, here he was.

“Try another one.” My voice came out barley above a whisper, my bottom lip slipping between my teeth. George grabbed my hand, pulling it onto his chest, he started to lead it downwards. He didn’t break eye contact with me, and that only made the whole situation one hundred times more intense. Julian had never done this before, He’d never be able to have this effect on me.

“Do you want to see what you do to me.” He whispered, stopping right at his belt buckle. He smiled, head inching forward a little more. “How was that?” The look on his face told me he knew what he was doing to me, how his was making my heart skip every second beat.

“I can see why you got your reputation.” He moved his head closer to mine, just by a milli-meter, if either of us moved our lips would touch. His hand still held onto mine resting on his belt buckle. He didn’t make a move to move them, and if I was honest with myself. I didn't want too. The logical part of my brain told me I was doing this as payback for Sarah hooking up with Julian, the vodka filled side of me did it because I wanted to see where this could go.

“Y/N.” My fingertips unconsciously gripped onto his belt. His eyes dropped to my lips, only for a second. If I’d been blinking I’d have surly missed it. “You’re cute when you’re flirting.”

“I wasn’t flirting.” I pulled my hand away from his belt. The warmth of his body leaving my forearm. I wrapped it under myself. Watching him as he turned away and looked up at the sky once more.

“I wish you had been.” God, if I were a petty bitch I would run down those stairs and yell this story in Sarah’s face, while Julian watches on with that stupid look of his. “Why in the world did Julian McDonald break up with you? Apart from being one of the biggest idiots in town,”

“I didn’t want to sleep with him.” I whispered, rolling back so I was also watching the stars. “He got mad that we’d been dating for six months, and I don’t think I’m ready to lose my virginity.”

“You mean you’ve never had sex?”

“I do believe that is the common definition of the word.” I laughed. “But I know, how lame am I. I’m seventeen and I’ve never slept with anyone.”

“I don’t think it’s lame.”

“Yeah right. I’ve heard the stories about you, and your assembly of women.”

“Firstly it’s more of a line… not an assembly. Secondly, I’m serious. You wouldn’t want to lose your virginity to that arsehole anyway.” He cocked a smile. “Probably wouldn’t even had a dick big enough to feel it.” He snorted out a laugh, trying to hold it in. “I’ve heard some pretty serious allegations over the size of that guys dick.”

“George.” I turned to look at him, unable to stop myself from staring for a moment. “Thanks for making me feel less shit about my life.” He turned to face me now. “I’m sorry I’m such a drunken mess.” I picked up the bottle of vodka, it was two-thirds empty.

“Well that was going to be my next question. Are you always like this or is it just the vodka?”

“It’s definitely the vodka.” I sat up, trying to hide the blush that was flooding my cheeks. “Normally, if my boyfriend…”

“Ex,”

“Thank-you, Ex-boyfriend hadn’t been making out with my best-friend”

“Ex,”

“Ex-best-friend on that bloody floral settee feeling up each others…” I waved my hands in front of my boobs, the frustration overtaking me. “Bits… I wouldn’t be up here, wasted on half a bottle of vodka.” From down the stairs there was a loud eruption of voices. The music swelled drowning out any chance I had on making out what the voices were saying.

“But then if they weren’t down stairs making fools of themselves you wouldn’t be up here.” George voiced as he sat up. Arm brushing mine.

“That’s true.” I turned to face him. Chin resting on my arm. “And wouldn’t that be a shame.” George smiled and lent down a little. Eyes levelling out with mine, he ducked in a little closer, once again we were nearly lips to lips. “Why are you up here George?” He smiled, his lips brushed mine ever so softly. I almost thought it didn’t happen.

“I’m hiding from Stalker Sarah.” He whispered, breath fanning over my lips.

“MacKay where are you.” I pulled away, turning towards the door to the roof. “MacKay”

“I think someone wants you.” I turned back to George who was looking at the door.

“I think you’re right.” He stood up and extended his hand down to me. “Do you need a ride home?” I’d come with Sarah… There was no way I was leaving with her.

“I can walk.” I smiled standing.

“MACKAY.” The voice hollered again. If Sarah didn’t know George was here tonight, she sure would now.

“You’re not walking, we can take you.”

“George, it’s fine.”

“Y/N, We’re driving you.” He smiled grabbing onto my hand, Holding it tightly in his. “Now, the important part of this mission,” He started as he pulled us towards the door back into the house. "Is making sure neither of your ex’s see us.”

“You make me sound like I’m a floozy with multiple ex’s. Besides, they’re probably still busy on the floral settee,” George threw his head back and let out a deep chuckle as he opened the door and holding it with his left hand. His right still firmly gripping mine.

“Y/N.” We both pulled to a stop, Our laughter cutting off, Dying like my last hopes of being able to get out of this house without seeing either Sarah or Julian again. Sarah stepped forward smiling. She looked George up and down like he was a snack.

“We’ve been looking for you.” Julian smiled reaching out for my hand, trying to pull me away from George.

“Sarah,” I looked at my ex-best-friend whose eyes were downcast at mine and George’s interlaced hands. “Julian,” Julian’s eyes were on George, sizing him up.

“Y/N,” Sarah clenched out, eyes leaving mine and George’s hand. “Whose your friend?” She smiled sweetly. George wrapped an arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his chest.

“No one, just the guy whose taking her home.” He looked down the stairs, my eyes followed his. At the bottom of the stair case stood two guys, they’re waving at George. He nods his head in acknowledgement at the two. “Come on,” George lead me through the pair, down one step, two, three.

“Y/N,” I stopped, George stopped on the step below me. I turned, looking back up at the girl who used to be my best-friend. “Are you really going to do this to me?” I let out a self pitying laugh.

“Honestly Sarah, compared to what you and Julian did together on the settee, George taking me home, is nothing.” They both looked down. “You should have charged for the show, you would have made a killing.” I went to turn again.

“You leave with him and you can kiss goodbye our friendship.”

“You kissed that good bye the minute you kissed my boyfriend.” I turned, this time not stopping when she called out again. “Let’s go.” I whispered in his ear, stepping down onto his step. When we got to his friends he smiled at them, not explain who I was. I guessed he was waiting till we were in the safety of the car George had arrived here in.

“You alright?” The taller of the pair asked. His eyes flicked over to me, before turning back to George as we made our way past him.

“Yeah, I’ll explain in the car.” He replied softly. None of us talked as we followed George out of the house, his hand still holding tightly onto mine. People parted as we walked through the crowd. I could see at least three different girls who’d joined Sarah in her talks about George giving me the up and down before they looked away, their eyes betraying them in the second they turned. They wished they were me, holding his hand….I understood why.

“I’m Mason.” The shorter one smiled as we neared the car. “Since this jackass won’t introduce us.” He extended his hand out to me. He seemed nice enough. “You are?”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” I smiled shaking his hand. “Ex-best-friend of Stalker Sarah, Ex-girlfriend of Julian McDonald.” Mason’s eyes widened he turned to George who was still next to me, hand still firmly grasping mine. “It’s okay, you don’t need to worry about me trying to convert George into hooking up with her.” I lent towards him. “And if you made up the nickname, you’re totally right.” I whispered a little.

“Speaking of McDonalds,” The taller of the two smiled. “How about we get some?” He held his hand out across the roof of the car. “I’m Taylor, designated driver of these two assholes tonight.” I reached across, shaking his hand. “Pleasure.” He hit the roof of the car. “McDonalds, let’s go.”

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ -_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dear Diary pt.2. - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612006567009714176/dear-diary

Dear Diary pt.3. - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612353107904593920/dear-diary-pt3

Dear Diary pt.4. - https://george-mackay-macfine.tumblr.com/post/612426076500656129/dear-diary-pt-4

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #GeorgeMackay #George MacKay fanfic #George MacKay Imagine

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hemmingswaybabe-blog · 4 years

Text

Welcome Home***

THIS IS SMUT! NOBODY UNDER 18 INTERACT PLEASE.

Plot: Calum is coming home from tour but after flight cancellations and delays, he makes it home once you are already asleep. When you wake up in his arms, you want to make sure he gets the greeting you anticipated for him ;) Warnings: Smut, face fucking.

We got the redeye to L.A. tonight. Should land at around 4 a.m. I’ll Uber home. Love you.

A disappointed sigh left your lips as you read Calum’s text. He was originally supposed to get home at 8 p.m. but after a fiasco of flight cancellations, he missed his connecting flight home from the U.K. It was now midnight and the hair and makeup you had put on to look nice for him was not looking so hot anymore.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you had seen each other and Your texts back and forth got even dirtier and dirtier as time passed. You both agreed to abstain from touching yourselves so the sex would be even better when you reunited. However, when making that agreement you didn’t take into consideration that the two of you are the horniest people on the planet. Not masturbating was one of the hardest things you have ever had to do in your life, and Calum did not help. He would send teasing messages that only made you even hornier. Luckily, you were just as cruel and would send Calum nude selfies describing all the things you would want to do to him.

Although you were determined to stay up, your internal clock got the best of you and by 2 a.m. you were completely out and probably snoring in the bed you and Calum shared. When Calum finally stumbled in the bedroom at about 5 a.m., he couldn’t help but feel his heart flutter when he saw you fast asleep in the lingerie you had bought to wear especially for that night. He set his suitcase by the door and slowly climbed into bed beside you, resting his chin on your shoulder and entangling his limbs around you. With a soft smile on his face, Calum soon drifted to sleep as well, feeling your warmth against his chest.

At about 10 a.m. you slowly started to wake up and immediately smiled when you felt Calum’s toned arms wrapped around your waist. His breath was light on your ear, on the verge of being annoying, but you were so happy to see him that you didn’t care. Careful not to wake him, you slowly turned to face him so you were face to face. Even though you had been together for over a year, after not seeing him for 3 weeks, you were still in awe of how beautiful he was. You were kind of jealous of his tan skin and full lips, but more importantly, you wanted to kiss them. As you stared at him, which made you feel like a creepy stalker, you remembered one of the texts he sent you last week when he was missing you:

I can’t wait to feel those pretty lips wrapped around my dick. You look so hot when you suck me off and let me fuck your beautiful face.

To your advantage, Calum naturally turned over so he was laying on his back. Your first instinct was to lay your head on his chest and snuggle up to him even closer. But that text ignited a fire in your belly, as you remembered all the dirty texts and long nights without him there to please you. You sat up in the bed and looked at the mirror on the wall across from you. Quickly, you brushed out your messy hair with your fingers and wiped the mascara that smudged under your eyes while you were sleeping. You slowly climbed over him, straddling his legs. Calum was wearing basketball shorts, which gave you way easier access than if he had been in skinny jeans. Slowly, you pulled his shorts and underwear down to reveal his cock. You took a quick moment to admire the beautiful specimen you got to call your boyfriend. His tattooed chest was shiny with a thin layer of sweat and his face looked like that of an angel when he slept peacefully like that.

You knew you had to hurry before the breeze from the ceiling fan woke up Calum as it blew cold air across his now exposed cock. You took him in your hand and slowly began stroking the base of his cock. You used your other hand to gently squeeze his balls as you began to get him hard. A small moan left his lips and you could tell he was bound to wake up soon. You quickly took action and licked the underside of his cock before placing a soft kiss on the tip.

As you anticipated, your actions woke Calum up in a hurry, but before he could open his eyes and look down at you, your mouth was already taking him as you slowly bobbed your head around him, taking the rest of him in your hand.

“Good morning gorgeous.” He said, but it came out more like a moan than a greeting.

You didn’t stop, just lightly moaned around his cock, sending vibrations through him that made his hips buck up. That action made you look up and nod at him, permitting him to fully fuck your face.

He didn’t waste any time as he grabbed the back of your head and pushed you down onto him, making his cock hit the back of your throat. His thrusts grew faster and faster as he chased his high. A few tears streamed down your face as you tried your best not to gag around him. You were ready to swallow his heavy load when he forcefully dragged your mouth away from him. You gave him a look of confusion before he grabbed your waist and flipped you so that you were lying on your back looking up at him.

“You’re crazy if you think I’m missing out on tasting you, baby girl.” He grinned before he pressed his lips onto you for a hard kiss.

When he pulled away you moaned, “God, I missed your lips.”

“Where did you miss them on you, baby,” He teased as he touched all over your body, “Where do you want me? What do you want from me, baby?”

“Please make me cum with your mouth and your fingers. I’ve missed it so much. I just want you on me.” you whined as you squirmed beneath his hands running all over your body, but skipping over your most sensitive areas.

Calum took his sweet time leaving hickeys on your neck that made you moan and groped your breasts as he played with your nipples so nonchalantly, but he still had you moaning and squirming beneath him. After what seemed like hours of his bittersweet teasing, he finally made his way down in between your thighs as he tugged your underwear down your legs and down to your ankles where you kicked them off.

“You’re so fucking pretty. God, I could look at you all day.” He groaned before he ravished your core with his mouth.

He licked a long stripe down from my entrance up to your sensitive clit before he began to suck, lick, and nibble on the sensitive bud. Your fingers interlaced in his hair trying to gain as much friction as possible. As you arched your back in pleasure from his mouth, he dipped two fingers into you and began working them into you, slowly opening you up. After a few strokes, his fingers had found an all too familiar spot in your core as he penetrated your G-spot with his magnificent fingers.

“Mmmm,” He hummed against your pussy. “You taste even better than I remember. So sweet and wet for me.”

You almost lost it as the vibrations on your clit shook throughout your entire body. He began to pick up the pace as you were completely a moaning mess. After not being touched for three weeks, the smallest movement had you whimpering and shaking.

“Calum. I-” You yelped before a strung of incoherent words fell through my lips.

His fingers stroked against your G-spot and sucked harshly on your clit, leaving you seeing white and the fire in your belly erupting. Your legs shook intensely around him as they instinctively began to close around his head. He used his arms to hold them open as he continued to softly lick around your pussy, cleaning up your mess, making you whimper at how sensitive you were. He delved two fingers into you once more, making you groan at the feeling of fullness again, before he took them out and held them against your lips. You opened your mouth and sucked his fingers dry, tasting yourself on him, until he was satisfied.

As you looked back down at his cock, it was red and throbbing for you, begging to be inside you. Although your first orgasm almost completely ruined you, you knew you would never be satisfied unless Calum’s cock had made you cum too. He retrieved a condom from the nightstand and rolled it on his cock, tossing the foil wrapper behind him. You would probably find it next week and laugh about it. He took another second to look at you, all of you.

“I love you so much. God, I missed you.” He said as he looked directly into your eyes before he pressed his lips against yours and enveloping you in a deep kiss.

As the kiss grew more intense, he ran one hand down your body before grabbing his cock, stroking it a few times, and using his hand to guide himself into your entrance. Before he could even get halfway in you arched your back off the bed and gasped into his kiss. He held your hips down with his hand as he continued to slowly press into you until he was completely inside of you. You felt so full and complete like his cock was made to be inside of you, like it was made to make you feel good. He finally broke the kiss to look at you and wait for a sign that you were ready for him to move. You bucked your hips up and grabbed the back of his head to bring his lips back onto yours.

He immediately set a moderate pace, giving you both enough pleasure, but still allowing you both to savor this sweet moment together, after so long apart. The veins of his cock brushed places so deep inside of you it made you shiver and you couldn’t help but moan into his mouth with each thrust. You didn’t need words, or praise, or anything from him. You were so deep in the moment and the kiss. He took over all five of your senses: the feeling of his cock deep inside of you, the taste of his lips, the smell of his hair conditioner, the sight of his beautiful body on top yours, and the sound of your skin meeting his with each thrust. He sent you into complete euphoria as you felt an intense heat rise inside you once again.

As he sensed you getting closer he used the hand that was on your hip and snaked it in between your bodies to once again find your throbbing clit, sensitive to the touch. Without any mercy, he rubbed harsh circles onto your nub to help you find your release. Everything around you went away as you saw stars around you and your cunt clenched around him rapidly, triggering his release. Both of you strung incoherent grunts and moans together as he slowly thrusted through your orgasms.

After a while, he pulled out, discarded his condom, and looked back at you laying limply on the bed, catching your breath.

“Well, that was a great welcome home present.” He laughed before he enveloped you in his arms once again.

“Tell me everything about your tour.” You said softly as you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to drift back asleep to the sound of his voice.

#5sos imagine #5sos smut #calum fic #calum hood #5sos #5 second of summer imagines #5 seconds of summer

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abitscripturient · 4 years

Text

Part of Vena Cava: Chapter 2

June 4, 2012 | 4:30 am

Early Monday morning, a half-asleep Aija and Hikaru found themselves up and about getting ready to go. Aija wore a lengthy white linen tunic and her tan skinny jeans partially covered by her white ankle boots. Hikaru was more comfortable wearing his white t-shirt and dark gray lounge pants. He knew this was Aija’s second international flight and as such she would have to learn how to dress more comfortably for a fifteen hour journey to his homeland.

The plan was to fly to Seattle, rest up at Shae’s house while the Tengoku was refueled before heading back out into the skies to fly to Kyoto. The young nurse had finally decided to branch off on her own, much to her father’s dismay. Aija was so proud of her best friend. They had been chatting on Skype off and on to keep in contact and not surprisingly, Aija couldn’t find anybody else that matched up to her friend personality wise. Shae was a keeper.

The goodbye between Aija and Derrick was lengthy and rightfully so. After coming back from Japan, Hikaru and Aija decided they wanted to live back in Seattle for good. Too many good memories were made there; meeting each other being a huge one. Derrick wasn’t happy with the decision at first, having had Aija back with him for that while but he let her go. More than anything he wanted her happiness.

“I’ll make sure to get in contact with you when I make it to Seattle and when I make it to Japan, Daddy. Try not to worry.” Aija said as she hugged her father’s strong body tightly, feeling Derrick’s hand caressing the back of her head.

“I’m sure I’ll manage, Little Girl. Just let me know when I can come and visit.”

“Okay. I love you the best.”

“I love you the most, baby. See you soon.” He kissed her on the forehead and then the two departed in Hikaru’s rental.

The stopping of the car prompted Aija to open her eyes. Groggily looking around, she blinked to figure out where her surroundings were. The Seattle skyline greeted her as well as the sleek exterior of the Tengoku in front of the car. They were at the hangar where Hikaru usually kept his private jet plane and suddenly despite her sleepiness, Aija became quite excited. It was time to fly to Japan! She smiled over at Hikaru who returned the smile before lifting her hand up to kiss the back of it.

“Ready?”

“So ready.”

After their luggage was removed and put onto the plane, Aija made her way back into the plane for the second time in her life. Once again she was greeted happily by the staff and as usual she felt very welcome. Hikaru bowed respectfully to them as well and his jet plane captain came to meet him.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Mizuno-san.” At Hikaru’s confused look as to how he knew, he continued. “Takenouchi-san told us the good news.”

“Oh I see. Arigato gosaimasu. Takenouchi-san won’t be joining us this time around. He’s taking another flight.”

“Ryōkai, Mizuno-san. Shall we take off now?”

Hikaru nodded. “Hai. Whenever you’re ready, Ito-taichou.

The captain bowed and departed for the cockpit to start takeoff procedures. Hikaru made his way into the cabin where Aija already sat in a seat lightly dozing near the window. Like he had presumed, she had already kicked off her boots and had her feet tucked a little under the seat’s cushion. He sat and buckled up waiting for the captain to announce takeoff. Soon enough, the Tengoku started to move steadily to the runway and as Aija slept, Hikaru watched the lights of downtown Charlotte gleaming at him. He couldn’t wait to see the Seattle skyline once again and he smiled thinking about it. Once the Tengoku was in the air, Hikaru allowed his eyes to close.

Medi Love Tag List (Message to be added or removed): @catharticallysarcastic @kainablue @ladywithalamp @daftydrafty @kasey-writes

#writer #writing #am writing #writeblr #romance writers of tumblr #series: medicinal love #medi love: vena cava #Story piece

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Note

You could write a oneshot of Natsu and Lucy first kiss? And Sanji and Nami, if it's okay \o/ arigato, Roxas-san

Here you go, Anon! The link to your NaLu story is here. For the SanNami request, I was struggling a little and so I chose to link it to this story, so I hope you don’t mind!

Some Sound Advice Part II

“That’s it! Once we save Vivi’s country, I’m gonna tell Nami how I really feel! For real, no holding back!”

Sanji had proudly proclaimed that, and yet here he was, two days after the conclusion of the Albastan civil war/Baroque Works fiasco and still as deep in the friendzone as ever. He had tried to tell himself that Ace leaving wouldn’t deter him from following through on his promise to finally confess his feelings to their smart, savvy, sexy navigator; however, every time he thought about approaching the girl, he stomach would twist up tight into pretzel knots. Whenever he did finally work up the courage to confess, Nami was surrounded by everybody and their mother, and there was no way in hell that she would take him seriously at all in that kind of setting. Groaning at his own indecision, he ran a hand over his scratched-up, bandaged face and gazed forlornly up at the stone ceiling of the castle room above. It was nighttime, and the moonlight filtering in through the curtained window did little to illuminate the dark hue of the hewn rock. A perfectly gloomy setting for a perfectly gloomy man.

I can’t sleep like this, he thought indignantly. Slowly, muscles keening in protest, he pushed himself from the bed up into a sitting position. His body hadn’t throbbed and ached like this since he had been caught in the avalanche on Drum Island and fractured his spine. He carefully turned his body this way and that and stretched his arms slightly above his head in an effort to alleviate some of the tautness in his muscle fibers, but it only dimmed the pain down to a moderate level. Annoying, but he would survive. He tossed the cotton sheets from his body and turned on the bed to hop down, feet slipping into some very comfy slippers that Vivi’s staff had provided him. Dressed in only a pair of loose plaid-patterned pajama pants and a muscle tee, the insomnious, lovesick cook took to wandering the castle halls like a ghost chained to the physical plane by his lingering regrets.

Moonlight streamed in through the tall, skinny glass-paned windows, turning the crimson red of the hallway carpet to something reminiscent of coral. The gray stones around them, unlike those in Sanji’s room though they were the same material, soaked up the white rays to glow a soft bright timber. This castle was just intent on making him depressed, apparently. He should’ve brought his cigarettes, but he had already turned the corner to head towards the grand staircase, so there wasn’t much point in that. The red carpet washed over the ornate, mahogany-lined stairwell like a cherry-red waterfall, ending in a semicircular puddle at the base. The castle’s entryway was lonely and empty, save for a pair of vigilant guards stationed at either side of the massive castle door. Sanji’s eyebrow quirked as he noticed the sliver of white light slicing through the center of the looming wood; the door was cracked. His slippers slapped sloppily against the plush carpet as he tottered down the stairs and approached the guards.

“Is someone outside?”

“Oh, another one of the Straw Hats. The redhead girl- your navigator, I believe- asked to step out for a breath of fresh air in the courtyard garden, so we kept the door open so we could keep an eye on her. There are still plenty of bitter citizens and Baroque Works goons lingering around, so we would hate for something to happen to her,” the guard to his left reported. Sanji dipped his head respectfully to him in thanks before slipping through the small gap in the door to walk outside. His heart rate had jumped into an exponential upward slope; was this the chance he had been so desperately waiting for?Already, the cowardice was beginning to leak into his veins, rapidly washing away the adrenaline. He clenched the fabric of his tee into his fingers with gritted teeth. No way you’re backing down this time, Sanji. Do it!

The desert night was a beautiful one. The air was cool but not overbearingly so, a comfortable temperature range supplemented by a refreshingly chill breeze. The night sky was unobstructed by clouds, not even one small, puffy wisp, allowing the full brilliance of the Milky Way to emblazon the dark sky like diamonds studded into black velvet. The moon was shining with such intensity that it was ringed with luminescence, and she poured all her force into bathing the world below her with glowing white water. The castle garden was brilliantly illuminated; the white stones of the walkway and balustrades shone like they were constructed of moonstone itself. The green of the grass blades and bush and tree leaves took on a dark emerald sheen, their waxy surfaces reflecting the light just like smooth gems of jade would. The flowers were all painted pastel, white and blue and yellow and pink all transformed by the moonlight’s touch. It was not this sentimental sight that stole Sanji’s breath from his lungs, however.

There she was, seated on the stone of a rounded flowerbed, back to him and face upturned to the stars above. Her tangerine hair blazed atop her head in a tiny messy bun that resembled a candle’s flickering flame to his eyes. Her tanned skin looked like coffee with cream in the moonlight. The simple yellow nightgown that snugly hugged her body in its bodice to only flare out in draping waves over her legs made her seem like a contemplative goddess or angel in his undeserving mortal eyes. Seeing her, so ethereal and otherworldly, sent that jolting spark of fear through his body once more. He gulped loudly, shuffling back against the entryway to retreat back into the castle.

Some deity was looking out for him that night, because Nami heard him, and glanced over her shoulder to stare at him with those brown eyes that made Sanji nearly melt into a puddle every single time they were cast onto him.

“Sanji?” she blinked, and then her curious expression relaxed into one of sympathetic understanding. “Can’t sleep either, huh?”

“Aha, yeah, no,” he laughed nervously while rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. When he looked back to her, she was lightly patting the stone block beside her invitingly. Sanji’s back stiffened like a steel rod as his heart bounded into his throat, but his feet knew how to function well enough, because they carried him over to her. With all the grace of a golem clumsily carved of iron, he eased himself onto the stone beside her. His fingers twitched excessively against the meat of his thighs in his body’s effort to dissipate the insane amount of nervous energy flooding his system and preventing essential functions, like blinking and breathing.

“Did you have a nightmare or something? You look tense,” Nami asked worriedly. He was about to refute the statement but she leaned over to peer into his face, and whatever reply he was going to utter dried up along with the rest of his mouth. He only opened and closed his mouth stupidly at her, the desert heat of his mouth rising across his cheeks in the form of a dust-cloud blush.

“Er… No… I just tweaked one of my wounds, is all, and I’m just waiting for it to settle down,” he lied lamely. Nami blinked those pretty eyes of hers, then shrugged and turned back to her stargazing. He breathed an uneven sigh and cursed himself at his pitiful performance. He was the smoothest lady-killer on the Grand Line, for crying out loud; he was capable of acting like the most suave knight under pressure, and here he was bungling it like a tween on his first date. He swept a hair through his tousled blonde likes, streaking it with a thin shimmer of sweat. Come on, Sanji, get yourself together. You’ve gotten father than all your previous attempts, he reminded himself. It actually did boost his confidence slightly. “Actually, Nami-swan,” he began uncertainly, then compulsively cleared his throat. “Th-there’s something that’s been on my mind.”

“What is it?” She looked back at him with a radiantly sweet smile that made his heart clench inside his chest. “You can tell me!” She was so perfectly innocent that Sanji almost felt as if he were about to taint her with his pending admission. He inhaled sharply through his nose and closed his eyes as he breathed out, steeling his jittery nerves. Regardless of how it ended, he had made a vow to confess to her, and he wasn’t the type of man to quail on his word. He opened his eyes to stare fixedly at her.

“Nami… I love you.”

The words hung in the air like they were suspended on strings, weighty yet unmoving. Nami’s expression was alarmingly blank. Unblinking brown eyes fixated on his own, shaking in their sockets as the tension mounted in his body waiting for her response. His stream of consciousness began to fly like a runaway train, wondering if he had made the wrong decision and their friendship would be ruined or even if she would slap him silly. Finally, after what seemed like ten life ages, she released a tremulous breath.

“You… Really mean that, don’t you?” Before he could answer, she cupped a hand to her mouth and looked down at her feet, eyes searching the stone desperately for her next words. Sanji swallowed anxiously; he hadn’t been sure what he had been expecting, but this was not what he had been hoping for. He immediately moved to get up.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. Of course you wouldn’t-“

“No!” she demanded, head whipping around. She grabbed his bicep with both her hands to yank him so hard she could’ve jerked his shoulder out of socket, and he stumbled gracelessly back against the stone. Confused sputters of her name fell from his mouth, but before he could get the chance to arrange a coherent sentence, Nami grabbed his face roughly to wrench him into a heated, sloppy open-mouthed kiss. It took his already frazzled brain a moment to process the chain of events, but when he did, the shade of his face matched the crimson rugs of the palace behind them. When she pulled back, their lips separated with a slight pop with how tightly they had been pressed together. Sanji’s shoulders slouched loosely to mirror the complete slack of his jaw as he gawked stupidly at her. “A-ahem,” she cough uneasily as she wiped her lips with her wrist, “There’s your answer.”

Sanji wasn’t sure what he wanted to do- cry tears of joy, do a happy dance, run off and tell Zoro that he had won that stupid bet ages ago that he was gonna win Nami’s heart; there were so many possibilities his brain was unable to choose, and so he just continued to sit there with that rosy blush and absolutely moronic smile on his face. “Sanji? Oh, God, did I kill all the neurons you had left?”

“I’m okay!” With a dog-like shake of his entire body, he was finally able to right the sparking electrical pathways in his brain into working order, and his hands flew up to grasp one of hers endearingly. “I’m so relieved, Nami-swan!” he said as he heaved a sigh to dislodge the last of the lingering weight that had been burdening his shoulders for days. Nami gave him a slightly amused, crooked smile as she snorted in laughter. She was so cute it sent his heart into dangerously fast palpitations. “Em, Nami?”

“Yes?”

“Can we do that again? I really don’t want our first kiss to be me just being a dumbass…” Nami laughed airily at his request, then gave him a smile that rivaled the shining move above, her eyes scrunched up in unbridled affection and joy. That was invitation enough, so with a pleased smirk, he leaned forward to claim her lips in a sweet, chaste, passionate kiss that he was going to engrave in his memory for the rest of time…

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to perusemy Tableof Contents!

Tag List: @searchfortheonepiece

#one piece #sannami #sanjixnami #namixsanji #namisanji #sanjinami #sanji x nami #nami x sanji #cat thief nami #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece fic #op fic #op fanfiction #romance #fluff

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mickeychii · 4 years

Text

Human!Bendy x Fem!Reader

After years of avoiding, how'd Y/n appear up here? She knew to avoid it at all costs but her curious personality diminished any voice of reason. But something had been tugging at her heart to pay a visit after having flashes of old memories of childhood, faceless, friends fill her head.

Blowing into the mittens on her hands in an attempt to gain warmth, a lump in the persons' throat was swallowed down as they pushed open the old, creaking door with a grunt. "Gosh darnit..C'mon!" Y/n heaved before getting impatient, kicking the door open and losing her footing the process. "Geez, harder than I remember." Y/n grunted and stood from the snowy ground, walking into the old building. Carefully shutting the door while intentionally leaving it open a crack, she knew it'd be harder to open it from the inside. Her head swiveled as her eyes scanned the dark room. Y/n gulped once more before summoning some courage and pulled a small lantern from her pack, lighting it in means of warmth and visual. Black goop lined some of the walls and cracks of the ceiling. The sound of seemingly to be watery ink dropping into a puddle of said ink filled the ears of the missus. Being in her mid-twenties, Y/n had been here long ago it seemed. Her grandfather constantly brought her to his work as it shut down, giving her empty tours of the building, talking of when he was an animator. Inspiring Y/n to become one herself but she was still in school and working a full-time job in order to take care of her deceased sisters' two-year-old son; still a long way away from her goal in life. Taking a few paces forward, a loud screeching sound inflated the air. Screaming herself, Y/n quickly hid behind the closest thing beside her being an old, pushed onto its side desk. Y/n attempted to blow out the lantern but decided against it and hid it in her tan brown coat that was luckily long enough to do the deed. Another scream enveloped the air once more but this time it was human-and agonizingly painful to listen to. Y/n's gloved hands clasped over her ears. The screaming stopped. But ragged, inhuman breathing remained then they stopped. A loud sniffing sound replaced the previous sound as if it was sniffing something out as a hound dog would. Y/n sucked in her breath and peeked over the desk, spotting the exit. "Ok... it's right there..just..rUN-!" Y/n's voice turned to a scream as she was about to finish her self pep talk. As she hunched-over-walked from behind the safety of the desk, a large-big-as-her-head, clawed hand swatted at her legs and grabbed her right. Her body left the floor and hung upside down, her hair pulled down by gravity. Y/n held the lantern to her chest that illuminated the bottom half of her face and upper-half of her torso plus her arms. Her eyes were wide with terror of the unknown. Her line of vision locked with a face. A face with a large snarl that emitted animalistic growls and ink dripping low enough to cover its eyes. Two black horns laid atop its head. Noticing the fact that it honed a seemingly only black and white palette. It's body hunched over as to not crash itself into the ceiling. It looked like the devil himself. Y/n stared in panic but stayed silent with a clenched jaw. She felt as if she was a stranger in a very strange land. Like an Alice in a very dark, inky wonderland. The creature leaned forward and inhaled her scent. Generating a small squeak to emit from her. It cocked its head again and repeated the action, another, much softer noise came from Y/n. Her arms hugging the lantern as tight as she could. "...H-hi there big guy..?" Silence. "I-I can leave! J-just put me down and I'll go!" A gruff, quiet, snarl escaped the large ink demon and began to walk down the hallway. Y/n felt like vomiting from being hung upside down. 'Can I please walk?! I don't exactly feel like a dying upside down.' She thought sarcastically and slapped a hand over her mouth as nausea hit her. The creature stared down at her then slowly let her down. But as soon as it did, a thick metal 'collar,' you could get tetanus just from looking at it, formed around her neck. As well as a chain connected to it. This thing really didn't want her to run away, did it? Y/n huffed, holding the lantern out a bit from her body as it was becoming to hot against her chest. A sudden yank by her neck caused her body to begin walking. Y/n was reconsidering the previous choices of her wardrobe. Only wearing the heavy winter coat, black gloves, a black pencil skirt, and a white blouse tucked into the said skirt. But she was lucky enough to be wearing a strap on flats and having her pack with a small lantern was only a plus. "Um..Where we going?? M-Ms, Sir??" She swallowed as she stared up at the hunched over figure in front of her. Again, Y/n was only met with tense silence. A sigh left the woman and looked around. The building seemed to creak with every movement. Her vision faded in and out along with the black spots concealing her perception. The thing around her neck felt so tight and restricting. It had already seemed like hours of walking until they finally stopped. Everything was a blur. Where was she? Y/n, lost in her thoughts, bumped into the creature. The ink from the creature didn't stay on her clothing nor her skin. It simply rolled off and turned into puddles on the hardwood, leaving no stain of black ink. Y/n gained a puzzled expression and looked behind. Only footprints of the creature were left, none of hers followed. Y/n took note of this. She could escape easily without being tracked down.

A sloshing sound filled her ears, making her spin her head back to the creature. She was shocked to see the ink melting from the inky-being, revealing a...human? Y/n took a hesitant step back, the chain tugging slightly. "Now, now. No need to fuss little girl." Y/n said nothing as she stared at the seemingly grey-scale male in front of her. He almost gave a vibe like that old cartoon character 'Bendy' but...human? She wanted to snap at him of calling her a 'Little Girl.' Y/n was only twenty-three. "Oh? You're not going to talk? Not even a 'stuh'-stutter?" A mocking tone came from the man as he mocked her previous dialogues of questions. Her shoulders drooped as a feeling of dread enveloped her. She wasn't getting out anytime soon, was she? The male chuckled and tugged on the chain, sending her into a collision into his much taller frame. He was definitely shorter than the creature but stood at a grand height of six-six along with two curved horns atop his head and a skinny black spaded tail. His own attire consisting of a white dress shirt, black slacks and shoes. Including black suspenders and his inky-black hair in a short, low pony. His right arm hung in the air, holding the chain up so her eyes met his pure black pupils while his left arm tightly wrapped itself around her torso in a rather possessive manner. Being so close made Y/n notice the small stubble on his chin. "Seems I've found myself a pet." Y/n's breath hitched, shaking her head in the act of defiance. Another grin followed and his arm tightened. The only thing between them is the remarkably hot lantern. Y/n sucked in a breath as the heat was beginning to do what fire does best. Burn. A whimper fled from her but she dared not to move. The male's fingers drummed lightly against her side as he watched the pain flicker against her eyes, a satisfied grin on his lips. "Aw, is the Lil' doll hurting? Just say something and I'll stop it. I'll stop it ALL." He whispered into her ear, pressing himself against her for the sole purpose to bury the burning lantern into her chest and torso. Y/n winced. He was too close for comfort. His head retracted from her ear and his gaze pierced hers, he could feel her shiver against him. Y/n attempted to pull her head away put her chain was yanked-harshly again. Now his face was closer than before, their noses touching. Y/n opened her mouth somewhat but shut it immediately. What would she say? 'Hey, can you get off me, you more than likely pervy dude? You're kinda causing this thing to burn me, y'know.' "Hm? C'mon sweetcheeks, I know you can talk with that tiny voice of yours~" He cooed toward her ear once more. Feeling another shiver from her. Y/n didn't know why she was acting this way. She was normally one to speak her mind, but something was wrong. This place had instilled something into her to fear this demon. The pain from the lantern was becoming too much to bear. She began to squirm some, a dark giggle to erupt from the man. "Oh yes, squirm like a trapped birdie, doll. You don't know how long I've been longin' for a darlin' like you." Y/n stiffened with a small gasp as something pinched her behind. As if a crab latched its claw then immediately released. It was HIM. HIS hand. Y/n finally let out a small cry of pain and, with all her strength, pushed the man away. The lantern dropped to the floor but didn't shatter luckily. If it did, the rickety building would've gone up in flames. Y/n quickly batted at her chest in a slight panic, blowing out a small blaze that had erupted. But now, a hole lies on her chest, a bit under her collarbone. The edges of the cloth singed and brown. A red ghastly mark underneath the hole showed and a bit of her singed bra. "My, my. What vigor!" The man mused in the voice of a 1920′s radio host. Y/n was confused about how all this brought him such pleasure. She hesitantly met his fervent gaze, her chest rising and falling at a quicker pace. His grin only grew at the sight of such a frazzled girl. "So, It seems you don't want to make a sound." He paused. "Oooh, but I can surely get one out of you." He laughed and advanced towards Y/n. She quivered under his gaze and stepped backward. Taking a few more steps, Y/n attempted to bolt away but the man gripped onto the chain. He roughly yanked her back to him. His grin no longer a tenant on his face. "The... OBEDIENT.. pets don't run off." He then advanced on to take a pining, jesting lick at what exposed skin showed for him by the collar. Y/n finally came to her senses and scowled, pushing back. "Get off!" She screamed. The force of the push caused her own body to fall back while tripping over a wooden plank. The chain fell from his grip with a grunt. "Why! Ya' talked! Haha!" Y/n stared up at him in terror and her body shaking along with it, wiping off the saliva he left on her bared skin. She couldn't move, he stared down at her. He stared down at her with a blank expression. His body suddenly stiff, ridged, and held no emotion. The chain fell away into ink but the metal collar stayed. The male's face softened into a pained feat and gripped his head, using his free hand to lean against the wall. "Ah, Jesus that f...no..no kid friendly remember, Bendy...God damn my hea.." His pained eyes locked onto hers, pain turning into surprise and let out a shout. "AaahiiE! HuMAN. What?!" He looked just as terrified as Y/n was. She let out her own shriek and sat up against the wall. "Why are you here?!" He shouted and pointed at her. "E-EH?! YOU BROUGHT ME HERE YOU SKANK!" Y/n shouted back on the brink of tears. "What?! Why would I do that?! And skank?!" Y/n was panting heavily, already sweaty from hyperventilating. "Y-YEAH! Y-YOU JUST-" Y/n felt her neck, feeling the tender spot of his remaining trail of damp saliva. A whimper emitted from her. She shakily stood and grabbed the lantern. The man stiffened. "Do you...do not remember?!" She asked shakily and rubbed her eyes, her voice still a bit raised. He gazed upon her in confusion then his eyes went wide and harshly bit his lip, a fang breaking the skin. "You met him didn't you?" He grabbed the sides of his head. "Not again...whenever he comes out bad things happen!" Y/n stared at him, gripping the lantern with dear life. "W-who's h-him?" Y/n questioned and took a small step forward. "HIM. He...he marked you. He marked you didn't he?!" The man muttered and stared at her wide-eyed. His finger pointed to the trail. Y/n gulped and slowly nodded. "Oh god, I-I'm so sorry! He does that whenever he finds a new--" Y/n interrupted. "Pet....he kept calling me..pet." He sighed heavily and let his hand away from his disheveled bangs. "I'm sorry..." He whimpered and slowly walked over to her. "I'm so sorry...sorry... Bendy...I'm Bendy, that's it!" Bendy hesitantly extended his hand as he remembered his identity. Y/n flinched. "A-ah...I suppose you WOULD be hesitant after that. But...Um! Anyways! You don't have to give me your name." Bendy forced a smile and looked down the hallway. Why were all the lights out? Y/n stared at him, she couldn't figure out why he looked so familiar. "I'm sorry but do I know you?" She suddenly spoke, making the already shivering man jump. "I-uh, I don't know. You seem like someone I'd know but I don't. Sorry." His voice had a certain swing to it as if it were stuck in the 20s. Y/n furrowed her brows and turned her head, her eyes still on him. But her gaze flicked to the dark hallway, sighing heavily. "I'd better get back. Not exactly nice meeting you, er, Bendy." Y/n turned herself and picked up the lantern. "Hey! At least lemme walk you out!" Bendy chimed in an attempt to make light of the situation. She gave a deadpanned, un-amused expression. "Really?" Her voice was void of any emotion.

Bendy nodded, crossing his arms nonchalantly. "Of course! I'd be going against my own standards if I didn't escort you until you're safe." Y/n stared at him then sighed in defeat, look ahead. "Alright. But if you-" He put up a finger. "Ah-ah, He's gone for a while. He only comes when I'm asleep." Bendy let out a small grin and Y/n's eyes flicked to his. No wonder the circles under his eyes were so dark and a bit bruised looking. He must try not to sleep at all. 'Maybe he's just delirious.' She thought and began walking once more down the hallway. But nothing looked or seemed familiar, even Bendy was confused. "Uh, Bendy, where are we?" Y/n huffed timidly, afraid to make a wrong move and his head swiveled with own puzzled expression. Bendy even spun himself to see if any was remotely alike to the entrance. ".....to us...How?" He began to mutter and placed his hand on his chin. "Did you go down any elevators?" Y/n shook her head. Bendy sighed and thought for a moment. "You were blindfolded at or something like that?" Y/n opened her mouth and nodded. "I think so, I know I think I lost consciousness a few times...But I'm not sure." They both sighed as they realized they were lost. And in a creepy basement. With creepy sounds of dripping goopy ink. Bendy shivered and rubbed his arm, looking back to the human girl in front of him. "I'm sorry, again. I got you into the mess." He sighed, leaning against the wall. Y/n crossed her arms as her mind became less terrified and more serious about the situation. "I accept the apology, but I should've known gramps would leave something like HIM to guard the place. And I should've of came in here in the first place. So, don't take all the blame." Y/n spoke bluntly with a hint of sympathy in her words. How long had Bendy been trapped here? In all this ink and more than likely some blood. Bendy stared at her in surprise and rubbed his head. "I...Thanks, ms." He gave a small, genuine smile and became sheepish. All in all, Bendy had terrible people skills. All he's known is to sit down, stay quiet, and let the evil ink blob drive. It was weird to have control of his actions, it felt like he was more human than a demon-at the moment. Bendy blinked from his dialogue of thoughts and gave a confused expression. "Gramps..? Do you mean...-?" Y/n hummed in recognition. "He went missing one day after coming to work. Never saw him again." Bendy gulped, looking to the hallway. "What was his name?" Y/n's body jumped as a loud bang rang out. Sounding like a gunshot or something close to that. But it rattled the entire building, unlike a gunshot. Bendy jumped into action and let the instincts kick in, grabbing the stiff woman's arm and sprinting off.

Luckily Y/n had the lantern. Bendy beckoned for the light source in which she handed it over. A loud shriek, almost banshee-like followed after the previous sound. Then sudden screaming. "I'll get you! I won't stop till' YOU'RE dead! You STOLE it from ME." A shriek of a female voice rang out, making the fleeing pair cover their ears with their unoccupied hands. Y/n gasped as Bendy's grip loosened and fell with a loud 'thunk.' "Bendy!" She yelled and crouched down. He was unconscious. Y/n swallowed dryly, shaking his limp body. Tears beaded her eyes out of pure terror of the situation. A shrieking, almost murderous sounding woman, an unconscious Bendy that was susceptible to turning into the freak demon. And a more than fifty-fifty chance of dying by either of them if not her dumb choice of entering the building in the first place. Quick, thunderous footsteps began down the hallway towards the two. Y/n gulped down the nervous nauseous feeling and used all of her arm strength to slap Bendy as hard as she could. The sound made Y/n wince and a red mark immediately appeared. Bendy let out a yelp of pain, shooting up from his laying position. "What was that for?!" He screamed. He was pissed. Y/n stood up and yanked him up along with her. "Someones coming!" Y/n whisper shouted and began running, her turn to frag the disoriented male down the hallway. A turn in the hallway surprised Y/n, her left side colliding into the wood and fell through. It was another room but it was safer than the hallway. Bendy pulled her up and found a spare piece of plywood. He shoved it into the hole in the wall. Luckily it covered enough to where they couldn't be seen. The running footsteps slowed but passed them, returning to the quick pace as it cleared the corner. The two let out quiet sighs of relief and let their bodies relax. Y/n noticed how dark it was and stiffened. She forgot the lantern. Bendy carefully felt around the walls. "Somewhere, somewhere...Ah-HAH!" He cheered softly and pulled down a lever. A soft yet bright light came from the ceiling and illuminated them. Y/n smiled slightly in relief and looked to Bendy. "Ah, sorry about slapping you but last minute thinking isn't really the safest thing with me." He chuckled tiredly, sighing. "Had to wake me before the beast came. It's understandable. OH-! That thing's still on ya." Bendy snapped his fingers and the rusty collar dissipated, rolling off in blobs of ink. Y/n sucked in a breath, the tightness in her throat leaving. Letting out a much-needed sigh and felt blood rush back into her head. She had previously only had been able to take in short breaths due to the constriction. "Thanks." Y/n breathed and leaned against the wall, earning a creak from the floor. "By the way...My name's Y/n.." Bendy looked to her in surprise from the box he was searching through. "Y/n...? Is..is your last name..Lawrence?" He inquired quietly and crouched before her. His head tilted in awe and curiosity. Y/n leaned back against the wall in order to gain her bubble. "Y-yes...Why?" She gulped, her eyes averting and her hands beginning to clam up. "You...you don't remember me. DO you?" Bendy lowered his head sadly with a heavy sigh. Y/n's eyes widened. "I knew you?" She asked in surprise, receiving a nod. "Yeah, but it's been so long I didn't recognize you at first but then your..PERSONALITY...gave it away. You've certainly grown up." Bendy's voice was gravelly as if trying not to cry and stood up, looking to the plywood barricade. Y/n stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "How come I don't remember? Wouldn't I remember someone like you?" Bendy tensed from the words, it not helping that his cheeks became a dark grey from the contact. "Boss musta did somethin' to make ya' forget me. Wouldn't doubt if he did." His demeanor was less tense now but apathy filled his tone. Y/n lowered her eyes to the floor. "Sorry.." She whispered and removed her hand. What was going on? Is that why he was familiar? Because she might have known this man as a child? Bendy looked to her once more with an unyielding gaze. It was hard to look at her.

What her gramps had done left a terrible mark on the place. Y/n rubbed her arm with a heaviness resting itself on her chest. "I need to get out of here...I have a son-" She paused, letting out a heavy sigh and rubbed her eye with the heel of her palm. "My NEPHEW." Bendy raised a brow. "Son? You look a bit..young to be a mom." His eyes narrowed. "And you continued your...how should I put this...nasty bloodline?" Y/n looked up at him in shock, an expression of pure sorrow concealed her expression. "Bendy, why? I've done NOTHING to you. Just because you..knew me? Just because of my grandfather you're immediately going to group me up with HIM?" She looked to the floor. "I have a life. I can't stay here forever." Y/n walked over to the old door of the door and pulled it open. "He's not even my son. I took him in out of obligation and my own loneliness." Y/n looked back to Bendy who had a pained expression, causing a twinge of sympathy for the man. She pulled her gaze away and into the dark hallway. "Sorry...I-I have..what you can call a grudge against your gramps.." Bendy sighed, following her carefully into the hallway. "I can tell. But, before everything, he was a good person. Deep down inside he's probably still the guy who snuck candy to his granddaughter whenever she was breaking down." Y/n smiled slightly at the memory, their hands against the wall for balance. The rest of the walk was silent but soon enough the cracked open door Y/n left open was coming into view. Y/n quickly made a run for it, rushing to tug the door open. Tripping a few times over her own feet as Bendy followed. He didn't know why but he was drawn to the light. Y/n panted as she finally got it open with the taller persons' help and heaved a breath. "Thanks. I suppose this is where we..uh, split." Y/n took a step outside, enjoying the cold weather for once. She was a summer baby and hated the cold. Bendy felt the cold air rush around him and stiffened. He's never felt such a thing. "Hold on..what's this?" He asked quietly, crouching down and picking up a pile of snow. Y/n looked down at him, raising an eyebrow. "Snow...Do you not know about winter?" She mused. But Bendy stayed silent. He stared at his hand in awe, using his thumb to move the melting substance in his hand. Wait, melting? "Uh...That's not..Y/n, why is it melting?" Bendy vigorously shook his hand free of the freezing snow. Y/n laughed and crouched beside him. "Heat melts snow, so your hand melted it." Bendy stared at his hand in slight horror. "But..I'm not...I'm not human. I have no HEAT.." Y/n noticed how his previously grey-scale glove was now a pure white as before it had a grey tint to it.

Bendy stood up and backed into the building. The grey tint returned. "Wait..so that means.." Y/n thought for a moment. "Come..come outside." She ordered in which he quickly did. What happened next would change their lives forever. The secret of the ink. Bendy's grey scale skin slowly became a normal, pale peach color. The little horns on his head turned into..hair. It falling to rest atop his head but still had the small curved shape of his horn. The skinny spaded tail suddenly retreated into his spine-where it came from in the first place. Making the poor boy fall to the ground. His clothes remained black and white but his eyes became a dark brown color, losing the pie-cut look. "My god...What did he do to the others then...?" Y/n breathed with wide eyes. Bendy began to hyperventilate and rolled over onto the snow-covered ground. Using his hands and knees to sit up but he couldn't move. So, he stayed there, staring at the ground wide-eyed, terrified and on his hands and knees. His bangs hanging from his head and his pony hanging off his shoulder. Bendy felt his inert heart..beating. He couldn't remember the last time it had beat, especially this fast and...alive. He felt as if a barrier broke open, feeling the blood rushing into his once dormant veins. His once dry tongue felt a sudden, slow, wave of saliva coat his mouth. Hesitantly, his tongue licked across his previously dry teeth, feeling his own fang. That didn't go away. "What...I don't.." His fists clenched, balling up snow in his palms. Y/n stared in shock. She herself couldn't bring herself to talk or even think. "Bendy...Do you remember anything before the..show? Before you met my grandfather?" Bendy slowly raised his head, shakily standing. "I remember..nothing. Just bits of childhood." He rubbed his forehead and looked to her. Y/n shook her head. "Well, it seems you're... human now so I guess you just gotta suck it up and deal with life now. You're comin' with me." Bendy blinked but followed nevertheless. And that's when their lives got a bit more interesting.

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#batim #bendy and the ink machine #bendyxreader #x reader #x female reader

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things-we-used-tc-share · 5 years

Text

flesh and bone

Warnings: This piece of writing is intended to be hard to read, and it may be hard to read if you have ever struggled with an eating disorder or are currently struggling with an eating disorder. This is my way of working through my own issues, but I acknowledge it will not be everyone’s cup of tea. This is extremely graphic and may be unsuitable for readers under the age of 16 due to its exploration of mental illness and addiction to starvation being completely unrestrained, this is about my personal experience, one that is unfortunately ongoing and will not tailor to everyone’s needs. Please read at your own discretion, and if you are struggling, please reach out for help.

Further warnings for: having a general potty mouth, bulimia (this is over 9,000 words and is v long as a heads up)

Ship: Logicality (Look I really needed to have something there that didn’t make me feel like I was falling apart writing this)

Plot: Five years of being hungry. Hundreds of bruises to his spine and ribs. Nineteen-years-old and the chances of growing older are getting slimmer. In a fit of desperation, Patton’s mother begs him to go to a facility, and once he’s checked in there’s no getting out. It’s not all bad though, because there is Logan, a twenty-year-old who can count calories without looking at the packet and doesn’t treat him like he’s fragile.

Pinch the skin around his arm, skin that’s not exactly there anymore as it stretches tight over his bone. His entire life is numbers; numbers on packets, on scales, on the waistline of jeans. All Patton is...is numbers. He is counting through his life one step at a time and it is one very shaky, drained, dizzy step at that. Patton is sick. He’s been sick for years, so long that he can barely remember the last time he looked in the mirror without a fault in mind.

What caused him to love hunger more than himself?

Maybe it’s a cocktail of reasons. Maybe it’s so many reasons that he can’t untangle them all and find the route of this. He doesn’t think he’s beautiful that much is for sure, but an addiction is an addiction. He doesn’t think he’s beautiful as his hair’s falling out and his teeth feel like acid reflux. He doesn’t think he’s beautiful when his binder bruises his spine and ribs because they will never really have that protective layer of fat. He doesn’t think the thick layer of fur-like hair growing on his arms is so beautiful, or that his face looks like a ghost but “beautiful,” got lost in translation a long, long time ago.

Is beauty worth it when you can’t breathe through heaving, tired lungs?

Which is why, he supposes, he agreed to this. As he sits in the front seat of the car whilst staring at the restaurants that go past with the rest of the world, all those people unaware that he’s standing on the veil, on the way to his last chance at getting better. All that food that he’d conditioned himself to turn away from stares back hungrily, making his stomach turn. He closes his eyes, because if he sees another “summer body ready?” billboard he might throw himself out into the road and run away from the decision he’s made.

Some part of him really doesn’t want that.

The place is not what he expected; somehow he’d expected white walls and a clinical atmosphere, but as he walks in it just feels like a really big house, trailing his suitcase behind him. He slides his glasses up his nose, his shirt hanging off his shoulder in the warm July weather that he’s somehow managing to remain cold in. “You must be...Patton?” A woman approaches with paperwork and a smile that looks just a little tired.

“That’s me,” He replies, hoping he doesn’t sound quite as exhausted as he currently feels; he certainly doesn’t want this poor lady to be on the receiving end on his starvation induced temper.

The woman smiles and it’s the sort of smile people are trained to give, like a doctor to a patient with that sickly sympathy that really they could never relate too. “He and him pronouns?” He nods. “Would you prefer to room with the girls or the...well we only have one other boy here,”

“Is he remotely transphobic?” Patton wishes he doesn’t sound so drained, he’s also sick of having to ask that question.

“Surprisingly enough, I’ve never asked him,” She clears her throat “Logan!” There’s a muffled response, the sound of footsteps, a boy with ruffled ebony hair peers down the top of the banister with a displeased look “Are you transphobic?”

“I am most certainly not,” The boy responds, tentatively walking down the stairs with a slight stumble in his step, if Patton had to hazard a guess he’d say he hasn’t eaten in roughly twenty hours; the first twenty-four are always the hardest on your body before you start to get used to the pain and sick “Do I finally have a roommate?” He steps down a couple of steps towards them, looking almost tentatively at Patton, as if he’s scared of what he might find if he looks too long. “You are impressively skinny, poor word choice, I know but I do wonder if you have organs,” Eating disorder humour, laugh at your pain until it goes away. And that’s exactly how Patton responds, he laughs.

“Yeah, I want to room with uh...Logan? Was it?”

“Correct,”

“I wanna room with Logan,” Patton’s mother sighs lightly at his decision, but he is an adult after all. “Less crowded, I assume,” Logan nods in response before leaning against the post, waiting for Patton to say his goodbyes, sign some papers and hand over his phone. “Do I get to keep my music player, it doesn’t have internet access, it’s just music,” The lady nods as she takes the paperwork back and the phone into the other hand.

“You’re not allowed anything that you can use to contact people in the outside world, or things that are sharp, if you’re a smoker you’re allowed one lighter to use but we have to look after it when you’re not using it,”

“Basically, welcome to the nursery,” Logan chastises lightly as Patton gives his mother a hug. Patton’s lips quirk slightly “Right this way,” he helps Patton carry his suitcase but the boy can barely stand up straight, and Patton recognizes the tense jaw and stumbling footsteps like he is looking into a mirror.

Their room is fairly large, Patton has never been into inpatient that looks so...homely, there is enough room for at least six beds, but there’s only two “They tend to just add them so there’s always room for one more,” Logan explains “Just in case we get an emergency arrival that is,” He sits down on the bed, and Patton can see how thin his ankles are, peeking out of the bottom of his pants. Subconsciously, Patton wraps his thin fingers around his small wrist and feels the paper thin skin tight over his bones, but Logan catches the movement and shakes his head. “If you don’t stop doing that you never will,” He lays back, a small expression of discomfort as he stares at the ceiling “So... you’re trans?”

“Yep,” Patton responds popping the ‘p’ as he places his suitcase next to his bed and sits down, staring down at his knees. He always wears baggy clothes, if it’s not for the dysphoria then because he really doesn’t want to look at his body.

“Are you okay with changing in here? Would you prefer privacy? I don’t mind making myself scarce for a few minutes,” At least now he has an excuse that isn’t ‘I don’t want anyone to see my body,’ “And...he and him pronouns?” Logan sits up and leans back onto his hands, looking over at Patton.

“I...yes,” He pauses “To both,”

“I don’t like changing in front of people either,” Logan mutters, “My back is a mess,”

“Bruises?”

“So many,”

There’s a long and static pause as the two soak up the fact they were going to be in each other’s company for a while, that there’s no way of telling when they will be leaving. But, Patton thinks to himself, at least this one isn’t whining constantly about how society made them anorexic, because that just gets old after a while. Society gave you a gun and you shot it straight into your own chest.

“How long have you been here?” Patton asks quietly, looking over at the boy on the opposite bed.

“Three months, seven days, six hours,” He glances at his watches “24 minutes and...32 seconds,”

“Wow,” Silence again, cascading over the two of them as they stare quietly at the floor and each other at separate intervals, before Patton offers a tentative smile “You’re kinda weird,” Logan laughs, short and throaty, followed by a small cough “Like the way you talk, it’s...your speech pattern is strange,”

“Thank you,” Patton grins and kicks off his shoes, lying back against the bed, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

Dinner was hell. Patton pushes his food around on his plate before nibbling on the end of a single piece of pepper over the span of an hour. His stomach growls in frustration and he can’t really say he blames it. He pauses, closes his eyes and bites the bullet, managing a few more down before his stomach lurches. “Make up your fucking mind,” He mutters, his fork clattering against the plate.

“That’s a mood,” Patton looks up at the speaker, a girl with dark skin and big brown eyes smiles over “Honestly when I first got here my stomach was like ‘excuse me, what the fuck are you doing? Feeding me so much at once, that is not how shit works anymore’ “Patton stifles a small laugh, she looks so vibrant. Her eyes still retain the hope and happiness of most teenagers, but the rest of her is...deteriorating. “But I’ve been gaining, slowly but surely, I don’t know how to feel about it, but hey, I guess that means my stomach will stop rejecting the food,” She wipes her mouth and holds a hand out over the table “Rosalie,”

“Patton,”

“Nice to meet you, that’s Gemma,” She points over at a chubby girl with bright blonde hair. “Carmella,” Another girl with frizzy black hair and tan skin “And Josie,” The last girl looks up at her name, she’s been staring at her plate and not touching a single thing on it, looking a little out of it. “Josie got tubed today, she’s not so happy about it,”

Tubed. Patton had been before, once, where they force feed you liquid food through a tube, a horrible and uncomfortable experience that had had him in tears at the time. He gives Josie a small, comforting smile; she attempts to give a weak one back. “And of course, you’ve met Logan,” Logan looks up from the salad he’s been poking and prodding with raised eyebrows. “We were so wondering if we were getting another boy,”

“Well men find it harder to talk about,” Logan shrugged “And the statistics have a rather slight difference...did you know that...”

“Hush pocket protector,” The girl on Logan’s other side Carmella, nudges him playfully “If I needed a guide to eating disorder statistics I would’ve read one by now,” Patton smiles a little, allowing a distraction so he could slip some more food into his mouth. Logan rolls his eyes affectionately and ruffles her hair before pushing a forkful of salad past his lips. He chews slowly, but once he’s started it seems to be easier for him to continue as he adds another forkful.

After dinner, Logan paces the dining room floor for a moment, his eyes trained on the carpet as he tries to avoid leaving the room. “Bulimic?” Patton asks with some degree of understanding, leaning against the table. Logan nods. “Purging was never my thing,” Logan gives a short laugh, pushing his hair out of his eyes, Patton thinks he looks like he’s about to pass out from sheer stress alone.

“Good,” Logan replies shortly “It just hurts, and hurts a lot,” He clutches his churning stomach, eyes downcast and cheeks heated with embarrassment. He doesn’t like to be scrutinized. His stomach lurches and he bites down on his lip. “Could you leave me alone for a few minutes?” He asks, not unkindly as he looks over at the other. Patton nods.

“Yeah, see you in a bit Logan,”

Patton hears him crying not long after he’s left the room, his stomach trying to reject food that it is still unused to receiving in large quantities. He bites down on his bottom lip, but walks away, respecting Logan’s privacy.

Therapy, the one part of all of this that Patton vehemently hates; how do you talk to someone you’ve just met them and tell them all about your fears and hopes and dreams? Especially as a group. He sits in a comfy armchair in the living room and stares at his nails, listening to the other’s talk as they’re asked questions by the group leader. As his name is called, he looks up and feels his face warm at all the eyes on him. “Challenges?” He asks quietly “Being here is a challenge by itself, leaving my family behind, knowing they’re probably going to be in debt because of me,” Patton shrugs, his gaze fixated to the carpet “Trying to get better, I suppose is hard, I’ve lived like this for so long now I’m kind of worried who I’ll be on the other side, if I make it,”

“And successes?”

“I don’t know, accepting that I don’t want to die is probably a good start, and trying to get better will be hard but at least I am trying this time,” A quiet hum runs through the others in the group as they nod in agreement, he shifts uncomfortably at the feeling of being scrutinized.

“Very good, Patton, I’m sure everyone is very proud of you,”

(A week later)

Patton lay on his bed, sketching in his sketchbook as music played softly through his headphones. The sun was starting to set and the lamp beside his bed illuminated the pages as he ran his pan over the pages. The door opens and clicks shut, causing him to slide a headphone off as he looks up at his roommate. “Are you okay?” Logan shrugs a little.

“Okay is relative in these situations, am I improving physically? Yes, I’m gaining and that’s positive, how do I feel? Like shit,” Patton offers a smile as he sits up, wincing, his spine is visible under the too large sleep shirt that reaches his thighs. Nothing really fits him properly anymore, this shirt used to be tight on him.

“I get that,” He places his sketchbook and pen on the covers and slides his headphones off, the music tinny in the silence as it remains to carry through the air. “The first time I gained weight after...this started,” he took a deep breath “I went completely off the deep end, it nearly killed me,” Logan swallows dryly and looks away from Patton, away from his kind eyes and thin body. He hoped he would get someone cruel, someone he wouldn’t latch onto. Someone he couldn’t relate too.

“I’ve been in a few hospitals now,” Logan admits “This is the first one that’s been able to help me,” He stares at his wrists, at the bones jutting out “I just wanted to be healthy, my parents said I needed to lose weight, but then I started obsessing over it as I do with everything,” He runs his nails over the hair on his arms “Counting calories in water,” He laughs, but it’s dry and unamused “I should’ve known really,”

“I just really wanted to be skinny,” He snorts in response, that same bitter laugh that they’re all so familiar with “I really wanted to be like the girls in my class, I wanted people to stop calling me fat, but then I just...I couldn’t stop myself, I didn’t stop myself and I know it’s because I’m sick, but all I can think is because I’m weak,”

“And what’s wrong with being weak?” Logan asks softly “Really, everyone is weak, as a species, humans are only strong because of ruthlessness and weaponry, it’s truly a wonder how we managed this long,” He exhales shakily, his lungs rattling in their prison “Everyone has a weakness, at least you know what yours is, but now you have to learn to fight it, or you’re just going to be another statistic in a textbook about numbers this thing has killed, no name or identification, you are not a number and you shouldn’t become one,”

“I know that, but I can’t just...stop,” His stomach growls and he rolls his eyes, flopping back onto the bed. “It’s like I enjoy it, the hunger, the pain, I can’t stop feeling like I need it, and crave it,”

“It’s as much of an addiction as anything, you wouldn’t tell a heroin addict to simply put down the needle, for example, you know that an addict’s brain changes due to its addiction, your brain is like that too, it’s grown dependant on your pain and is feeding off of it,” Patton finds comfort in someone who actually knows what they’re talking about, who isn’t psychoanalyzing him, just telling him the truth. “You’re very sick Patton, we all are very sick, and I know I got too comfortable in accepting that it was just always going to kill me, but I don’t want that anymore and I don’t think you do either,”

“I don’t want to die Logan,”

“Then you need to start acting like it,” It’s such a simple statement that jolts straight through Patton like a bolt of electricity “It’s painful to try and recover when even your own body is begging you not too, it’s painful when your mind has this voice terrified of being fat, and it is terrifying stepping out into a society where fat people are treated as secondary citizens and people subconsciously believe thinner is better, but the reason doesn’t lie in society,”

“I know, I don’t blame society, well, I blame corporations for feeding off my disorder,”

“But an attitude that blames only society can never heal,” Patton breathes a sigh of relief that finally, finally, somebody understands what he’s been saying all this time. “Because until we look at the cause of the problem for us, for our own individual fears and what is stopping us from healing, we can’t tackle the bigger picture like diet pills and fat-shaming and the cocktail of issues that society makes up for impressionable people, especially those who are easily addicted to a feeling,”

“Thank you, I was getting so tired of that attitude, I don’t think people should blame themselves but some people need to look at the smaller picture first before they start working on the bigger one, like...like a child learning to read, you don’t start with the Harry Potter books, you start with the alphabet,” Logan nods with an affirming smile “Otherwise we’ll all be dead before we get to challenge the rest of the world on their viewpoint,”

“Absolutely,” Patton smiles, a wide and genuine smile that hurts his cheeks. This might be the first time he’s actually got along with one of the residents in his facility. Quite a feat for one last run. No, he corrects himself, not last.

You’ve got to try this time.

(two weeks later)

“Three, two, one,” Patton chucks the handful of raisins into his mouth and grimaces as he chews, whilst Logan cheers, “Here, catch,” he calls, holding his hand up as a warning before he flips the raisin towards the other, Patton laughs as he misses it completely and it bounces along the floor.

“God, they’re so sweet,” He swallows and shakes his head “When did raisins get so sweet?” He’d been avoiding sugar for so long now that his body barely knew what to do with the sudden mouthful of pure, natural sugars.

“You would spontaneously combust if you tried a milkshake,”

“Oh my God, never, literally never will you get one of those things near me they’re so full of fat and...” Logan’s eyebrows raise and Patton closes his mouth, giving a semi-ashamed smile “I’m doing it again aren’t I?” He sighs at the nod he gets in response and picks at the small box of raisins, slowly pressing them into his mouth, chewing and swallowing, his stomach growled for more but he knew if he continued it would also demand the food be regurgitated. “Maybe one day,” He says softly, and Logan grins widely in response.

“Did you hear that, guys? He said maybe one day!” There’s a hum of agreement and a small cheer from Carmella, who Patton had quickly realized was the peppiest in the group. “Sounds like an outing plan,” Patton’s mouth opens and he smiles a little, had he made...a friend?

“It’s a date specs,” He doesn’t miss Logan’s blush on his cheeks as Patton starts distributing the tiny packs of raisins to the girls, and watches as they engage in a battle royale of ‘who can flip the most raisins in their mouth’

Patton’s stomach rumbles as he makes his way upstairs and grabs his sketchpad. He sketches himself, his body, the way his ribs twist and his stomach dips between his hipbones. He’s done this so many times before but for some reason, this time when he stares at the lines of ink a small tear lands on the page. “Why am I crying?” He whispers gently to himself. The realization rushes over him in small waves as he writes the title of this piece of art at the top.

‘I don’t want to die,’

Patton had lived almost all of his teenage years knowing that one day his eating disorder would kill him. His body is constantly shutting down on itself, he’s constantly feeling weak, there are more bones than muscle under his skin, or so he hypothesizes; and he can’t actually leave the house alone because he’s collapsing so often. Every part of his body hurts, his vision is always accompanied by static and little black dots, he’s always thirsty. His body is eating itself, his hair is thin and falling out, his teeth are yellowing and his skin is paper thin, accompanied only by a thin layer of fur-like hair as his body desperately tries to keep itself warm. Patton is always cold, and always dying.

Logan had spent most of his teenage years in denial. Starving for attention and also food as he desperately tries to mould himself into what his parents want him to be; unfortunately he can never be what they want him to be because that would require him to be the basic definition of “normal,”, which also would include not having obsessive-compulsive disorder and also not so very weak from the lack of food in his system. His father had praised his ability to lose weight; he had told him it was wonderful that he was finally taking his weight seriously. His mother had watched him become a ghost and praised it. But Logan has never been able to half-do anything in his life and once he starts he cannot stop.

After his fourth hospitalization, his mother demanded he is sent to a specialist. His father had been adamantly against it, saying he just needs to eat and also “What will people think?” Because that’s all, really, Logan’s father thinks about. Logan knew then that his father really is not capable of loving a thing besides himself, but it was still somehow a shock that he cared so little about his son.

Patton’s parents are lovely, they’re wonderful people and he’s had a fairly nice childhood. When he was five his younger brother, Virgil, was born and the two have gotten along so well their entire lives. Patton’s mother is a baker and she’s always spoiled her son rotten when it came to things he needs or wants and Patton’s father is a soft-faced and kind-hearted man who has always shared equal loads with his wife. Their divorce had been amicable, it had no effect on the fact the two remained friends and Patton still saw his father and brother almost every day.

They were both very supportive of him being Trans. The only thing that his mother disapproves of is swearing, she doesn’t like it and thinks it’s aggressive. Virgil swears a lot, Patton...not so much.

So he doesn’t have the tragic backstory of Logan, the only knowing factor is being Trans and high school being a nightmare because of being ‘the chubby Trans kid’. This soon became ‘the Trans kid that looks like a ghost’ unreasonably thin and passing out every day.

The two of them had both come to conclusion one day they will die because of their illness, it would kill them, their organs would fail, they would be unable to stand due to muscle deterioration, Logan would rip a hole in his stomach, and they would die. For Logan, this changed because of Roman.

People hate living for other people more than they hate living for themselves, and yet guilt alone is enough to drive someone insane. So when a teenage boy appears on Logan’s doorstep and straight into Logan’s life, he has to make a choice. So far in his life, he had few things to live for; an unaccepting family environment that is toxic and full of discourse, a school full of idiots who taunt him and bully him, the only reason death seemed uninviting is because there is a lot that Logan still wants to learn.

Then there was Roman; his younger and apparently secret half-brother who folds his arms across his chest defiantly and pokes Logan’s father in the chest, anger in his eyes. Logan’s father wanted to throw him out, Logan’s mother was having none of that; she had after all, always known that her husband wasn’t faithful, she just hadn’t expected living proof. Logan and Roman spent a lot of time together from the moment he walked into their lives, wanting to make up for lost time as brothers do; they argued a lot but found solace in the fact that their homophobic father had two gay sons.

It was Roman who was the first person to care about Logan’s disorders, he was the first person to sit him down and say “You need to take this into your own hands now,” Logan had never really given it a thought, he knew time was running out for him and that most of what he could taste is acid from his stomach, but he had also always just accepted this was how it was going to be.

Roman didn’t tell Logan to live for him, didn’t ask nor guilt him. He simply said “You need to stop looking for a reason to live and give yourself one, I can’t ask you to live for me, that would be selfish, but you need to learn to live for yourself Logan whilst you still have the chance, there’s a world out there that’s equal parts horrifying and beautiful an it’s waiting for you outside of these walls,”

So Logan checked himself into therapy, and it was only Roman there to say goodbye to him as he walked through the doors, not knowing when or if he would come out of them.

Patton’s decision had come from three things. You cannot love someone healthy, you can try your hardest but when your best efforts fail you have to know it wasn’t your fault. Patton’s family loved him very much but their love could not fix him. His decision in the end, was partially because of his younger brother who had sworn to protect since his very birth, but was also because of his transition.

When you are Transgender there is a list of specifications you have to meet in order to medically transition, in order for the procedure to be safe. Patton’s white blood cell count is very low, his body doesn’t heal at a normal rate and his internal organs are feeling quite fragile at best. Every surgery comes with its risks, a surgery like this is usually very low-risk, but with his body in the state it is it could be fatal.

Patton doesn’t want to die, buried in a body that he hated, with an identification he hasn’t identified with in years. When he dies he wants to die himself, with his name and his body that he has dreamed of since he was a child. And maybe, just maybe, he’s hanging onto that sliver of hope that when he finally gets that transition and he feels just a little bit safer in his own skin, he might not be so flippant about death after all.

(two weeks later)

“We’re getting milkshakes?” The huddle of people that clambered into the back of the minivan cheers as they are told they’re going on an outing, specially requested by several members of the group. Patton had blushed and narrowed his eyes at the others as the girls tease him lightly and Logan squeezes his shoulder playfully. The younger curls up a little against his friend, head resting on his chest as he looks out of the window, watching the world pass. He hears Carmella gasp a little and some slight giggles, but Patton only rolls his eyes and curls up next to his friend.

“You can all choose which ever milkshake you want, the only rule is that you’re not allowed to the bathroom for thirty minutes afterwards, so if you need the toilet, go first,” There’s a series of sighs as they pull up outside the milkshake place. None of the items on the menu list the amount of calories.

“We’re gonna be running around a lot tonight,” Patton mutters to Logan, who nods in agreement “And I’m going to be thinking about the fat content of these milkshakes for a good few hours,” He sighs “But Oreo does sound lovely,” They all order one each and sit down with the huge glasses. There’s a silence, like they’re waiting for one another, it’s Logan who caves with a small sigh and takes a large sip out of the straw. Bated breath all around as they watch.

“Fuck me, it’s delicious,” he groans, eyes closing in bliss before licking his lips “That’s the nicest thing I’ve ever tasted,” He slides the glass over to Patton, who takes the tiniest of sips, a soft moan tumbling over his lips, Logan makes a quiet noise at the back of his throat, cheeks heating whilst the girls giggle at his expression. They tuck into their own, various gasps at the taste and complaints that they could taste the sheer amount of sugar in them.

By the time they’ve finished them, they’re all filled with an unusual amount of energy. Most of them hadn’t managed to drink something with so much sugar or calories or, in the case of some of the milkshakes, chocolate in so long. They’re buzzing with energy as they file back into the van.

And Logan is a little busy daydreaming about Patton’s expression and the noises he made as he drank his milkshake.

“You’ve totally got a crush on him,”

“I do not!” Logan huffs as he nudges Josie, helping her prepare lunch as he mixes up the salad, chopping up cucumbers and throwing them into the large bowl. “He’s simply a friend,” He shrugs a little, but his cheeks are red “I don’t get crushes on people and even if I did, now isn’t exactly a good time for either of us,” She sighs a little at him.

“You know people always say love can’t fix us,” She stills her hand on lightly buttering the bread, looking down at the chopping board “And they’re right, they can’t, but look at you Logan, why are you here?” He falters a little “Because your brother loved you enough to snap you out of your woe-is-me life and get you here,” The elder shifts uncomfortably, picking up a tomato and cutting into it swiftly. “Love can’t save us, but it certainly fucking helps,”

She’s right. He hates that she’s right. But Logan doesn’t want to love Patton, he’s still grasping the fact that he loves his brother, and that he has a brother that loves him. His mind doesn’t work in tandem with his heart most days and trying to add more things that he needs to understand is only going to complicate him. “Maybe,” He finally says as he cuts up the tomato swiftly “Maybe,”

(two months after Patton first arrived)

“Hey Patton dinner’s…are you okay?” Logan pauses at the door, one hand against the frame with fingers that are still too thin. His eyes drift from the room to the boy curled up on the bed, shivering. “Patton?” He walks into the room at the shaky sob that leaves the younger’s lips, kneeling down beside him and resting his hand against the mattress for Patton to take if he so desires. “Was it that bad?” Every couple of weeks they have weigh-ins, to check that they’re steadily gaining weight. From here, Logan can tell Patton has, but to a stranger they would still think he is unreasonably thin for someone of his age and height.

“I don’t want d-dinner,” He’s choking on his own breath, and Logan can tell Patton is in agony from the way he clutches his stomach, he knows he is hungry and he knows he hasn’t eaten today yet. “I can’t do this, I can’t,” The gasping whimper has Logan crumbling as he scoots onto the bed and holds Patton close, feeling the thin boy grip at his shirt, noises of pain and shaky starvation burrowing deeper and deeper into Logan.

He never really thought what it’s like to be on the other end, but in that moment he does realize two things; it really hurts to see someone you love in agony at their own hands, and two, he really does love Patton. In which way remains to be seen, but for now all that matters is that he helps his only and best friend. “You’ve come so far Patton, it’s okay,” He whispers “It’s okay to crumble, it’s okay to relapse, they are not a testament to how strong you are, what makes you strong is that you’ve got this far,” He rubs his back over the thick and long jumper that the shivering boy is wearing, yet he can still feel the firm outline of Patton’s bony spine. “Do you remember when you first started starving? How hard it was, but then you were doing three or four days fasts and suddenly one day doesn’t feel like anything?”

“Y-Yeah,”

“Recovery is the same, but the other way, the first few times you eat full meals it kills, it hurts you, you can barely cope with looking in the mirror, and then over time you start to wonder ‘how did I go so long without food?’” Patton sniffles a little “You are stronger than this voice telling you what you should be, but what you need to be is healthy and happy, of which this illness will not make you either,”

Patton holds onto his friend with his shaking fingers, crying against his chest, shivering and shaking and writhing in pain. All he can feel is the burning of acid rising from his stomach and scorching his throat, the dryness of his lips, the sharp sickliness that came in the aftermath of the hunger. His stomach lurches in desperate attempt to warn Patton that he needs food, he heaves a little, but there’s no food to throw up. Spots of black and wavy static play at his vision, they taunt him; remind him he is a wreck. An everlasting crash, like the moment when you trip and you wonder if you’re going to hit the ground, that feeling is played on repeat. He wonders why him? Why is he struggling like this? What is wrong with him? Why can’t he just fucking eat? Logan squeezes his shoulder.

“I’ll bring you up an apple and a piece of toast, okay?” A small nod, as he untangles himself, watching helplessly as he finds himself wanting to beg and plead for Logan not to let go, not to go anywhere, he needs comfort, he needs someone.

He really, really wants his mum right now. Like a child scared in a storm as his temperature fluctuates from hot and cold and the crash of his mental health from the absence of food when he was so goddamn well, he wants his mum. He wants Virgil. He wants to see his brother and squeeze his hand and tell him everything’s going to be okay. He wants his mum to hug him and smile at him with her teary eyes and promise she will do everything she can to help. But he doesn’t have Virgil, or his mum, he just has himself.

And Logan, of course, but it’s not Logan’s job to console him at every turn, any more than it’s his to do the same for Logan.

He sits up and takes a breath, pulling his curls out of his face and tying them back, he slides his glasses off his nose and wipes his eyes before taking a deep and shaky breath. In and out. Virgil had taught him breathing exercises for panic attacks, he says that it’s best to just ride it for a few minutes, let yourself feel it, let your thoughts crash, then take a while to breathe and organise those thoughts. It does take a while, he doesn’t finish sorting out his breathing until Logan comes back with a slice of toast and neatly chopped apple.

Patton cleans his glasses on his sleeve and picks up the first piece of apple, chewing it slowly. Logan doesn’t watch him and for that he’s grateful; but he makes sure Patton knows he’s still there as he sets about tidying up the room a little bit, opening the curtains and spraying the air freshener, just to make Patton feel a little cleaner after spending most of the day in bed.

“I miss my brother,” Patton says after he’s finished the apple, leaning back to let his stomach digest it before he starts on the toast “He’s my best friend and…it was easier being able to cope with him there, with him telling me how to cope but now I just have to figure it out for myself and…I miss his hugs,” His eyes tears up again, his voice coming out choked “I miss him ranting about school, and him making me feel just a little bit normal,”

“I miss my brother too,” Logan sits down next to him and squeezes his hand gently “He’s the only person in my life that cared about me,” He sighs “But that’s why we’re here Patton, because we need to be able to teach ourselves to take care of ourselves, and look at how well you’ve been doing,” Patton’s eyebrows furrow as if he’s about to argue, but Logan is one step ahead of him “You’ve been here two months, eating at least one full meal a day for one of those months, the other day you even had three full meals,” A small and defensive shrug is thrown his way but a smile is pressing to Patton’s lips, and that is progress. “You just calmed yourself down from a panic attack and ate food despite not wanting too because you knew what was best for your body, you’re willingly healing, and you’re willingly helping yourself,”

“It doesn’t feel like it,”

“It never does,” He’s right, we’re never able to weigh our successes against our failures because we see the worst in ourselves. “But it will, and it might not be whilst you’re still here, it might not be until you’re 30, or 40, but at least…” He pauses, remembering what Roman had told him “But at least give yourself the chance to live, so you can see it happen,”

Patton nods slowly, his smile weak but colour slowly returning to his cheeks. He leans over at presses a gentle kiss to his friend’s cheek “Thank you Logan,” He doesn’t miss the bright red of Logan’s cheeks, and he’s not sure the elder misses the small smile on his lips as he digs into his slice of toast.

(a week later)

Patton woke up after he heard the door close, he’d gone to bed early and it appeared to still be evening time so he slides out of bed to notice that Logan isn’t in his bed. He checks his clock, 11:30PM, Logan is always in bed by 10 and awake at 6:30, like clockwork; worried, Patton opens the door and sees the bathroom light is on.

A sense of unease washes over him, as he slips quietly into the hallway, socks padding quietly against the floor in his journey to the bathroom door; Patton hopes he is just being paranoid or overly vigilant as he stands outside, but his stomach sinks as he hears the sound of food hitting the toilet bowl. Or, what was food, anyway. He bites down on his lip as frustrated whispers fall in Logan’s voice, quiet and tearful and angry.

Patton shifts uncomfortably from one foot to another, mulling over in his head what he should do; should he give Logan some privacy, pretend he didn’t see or hear anything. He doesn’t get long to think however as the tap stops running and the toilet flushes and Logan walks out and straight into him. A look flickers across the other’s face, shame and embarrassment and maybe a little bit of anger, but it dissolves as Patton wraps his arms around the taller man and lets Logan fold himself into the hug, crying softly into his shoulder “It’s okay, it happens,” Patton mutters “You’ll do better tomorrow,”

(a week later)

“I feel like I haven’t slept in days,” Patton cracks his back and stretches, his shirt riding up his stomach, Logan can see easily that little pouch of stomach that hadn’t existed when Patton had got here and grins. “What’re you grinning at?” His cheeks heat a little, biting his bottom lip and Patton’s eyebrows raise, catching the embarrassment. Logan swallows his pride.

“I’m just happy to see you a little healthier,” He says softly as he slides out of bed himself, his eyes going to the carpet under his bare feet “You, in general, are something worth smiling about,” He swallows dryly, his hands wringing his wrists in such a familiar way, Patton’s hands rest gently over his.

“If you don’t stop that you’ll never be able too,” He whispers teasingly, his eyes bright and warm, the freckles on his cheeks coloured a little pink. Logan notes his hands feel much warmer than when he first got here, an added plus to starting to eat properly. He stays very still, staring into Patton’s eyes like a frightened statue that couldn’t move even in a hurricane. Whatever happens now, in this casual intimacy, it is Patton’s choice and Patton’s choice alone.

He cannot and will not make a choice for him.

Some part of Logan expected Patton to drop his hands and smile, to let go of his frail wrists and walk away, change his mind perhaps. After all they need to still focus on themselves, to fix themselves before they take on something as serious as a relationship. But Patton doesn’t really stay serious for long, and somehow Logan knows that no matter what they are to each other he will always want to help Patton, and Patton will want to help him. His brain is still flipping thoughts over like pancakes when the younger’s hand brushes against his cheek, the thumb gently caressing his pale skin.

All the thoughts stop. Just for a second, just for a precious moment when all he can see is Patton’s warm eyes and feel his gentle touch. An acknowledgement, and then the hand drops and Patton steps away. “You’re worth smiling about as well, Lo,”

(two weeks later)

“Virgil!” Patton squeaks as he all but jumps into his younger brother’s arms, stepping back to see the violet haired boy grinning at him. “I’ve missed you so much,” He pulls away “And mum,” He beams as she squeezes him close to her chest, pressing a motherly kiss to the top of his curly hair. “Is dad at work?” He asks, rocking back and forth on his heels excitably.

“I’m afraid so,” She replies softly “He’s barely been off work lately, Virgil’s practically moved in at this point,” The younger of the brothers beams cheekily “But look at you Patton,” She gasps “You’ve got some colour in your cheeks,” She doesn’t mention his weight, and for that he’s grateful.

“You look so much healthier Patton-cake,” Virgil sighs, squeezing his brother’s hand.

“Logan!” The group move away from the door as a boy races through it, unruly red hair in every direction, being held back to some fashion with a hair band. “Oh my God, look at you, give us a twirl,” Logan’s lips quirk a little as he rolls his eyes “Party pooper,” He sighs, before bringing the taller into his arms and into a bone-crushing hug. “So where is he? The pretty one you were telling me about,”

Family visitation days didn’t occur often and Patton had suggested perhaps they should give him a few months alone. He missed his family, but he also didn’t want to disappoint them by not looking a little better, at least a little. However, you are permitted to call your family from the office phone if you really needed it, he supposes Logan must have done.

It takes a second for it to settle in who this is, and who he’s talking about as Logan’s eyes settle on Patton, cheeks red. “Pretty?” Patton mouths, Logan gives the sort of look someone gives when they’re stuck between a rock and a hard place.

“Hello!” The boy grins “I’m Roman,” He shakes his hand “And who are…you,” His attention turns to Virgil with a grin “Tall, dark and handsome, is this a dream?” His elder brother groans beside him as Virgil’s face goes through the six stages of grief at once, struggling to find the words he entirely needed to structure a response.

“You are insatiable, Patton, Roman, Roman, Patton,” He gestures between the two before his hand falls to the younger of the two brothers “Virgil I assume?”

“That’s me,” The taller sighs “Tall, dark and apparently handsome,” Patton hides his giggle in his hands and Logan’s eyes drift over to the failed attempt at stifling a laugh, the way his cheeks redden and eyes close is…sweet. Roman shoots Virgil a small wink as they all start to trek towards their shared room. “So you two are roommates?”

“And friends,” Patton adds empathically. “Logan’s helped me out a lot whilst I’ve been here,” He smiles up at the elder who gives a modest nod, his hands burying themselves in his pockets as their eyes meet briefly. How can someone make him feel so small when he’s a whole head taller than them? He does, he feels tiny next to Patton, and all of him is so big when his body is so small, his personality full of colour.

“That’s nice,” Patton’s mother smiled “I’m glad to see you making friends again Patton,” She squeezes her sons shoulder as they file into the room, Roman tosses himself onto Logan’s bed and Virgil sits beside him on the floor, whilst Patton’s mother sits on Patton’s bed and the last two boys lean against each other, sat on the floor. “This place is quite pretty; worth the money do you think?”

“I’ve not felt this good in a while,” Patton admits a little, perhaps because he stopped isolating himself and made friends, and actually gave himself a shot for once. Also the nurses here didn’t try to censor his creativity; he doesn’t have to stare at the scales when they weigh him either. Then there’s the obvious that for once he was actually scared when he walked in, he wanted to change this time, he was scaring himself.

90% of recovery is wanting to recover; the other 10% is forcing food down your gullet and hoping for the fucking best.

They sit around and chat for a while, Logan has already been invited to a family dinner and Virgil has to politely explain to Roman that yes, whilst he’s extremely very cute, he isn’t really looking for a boyfriend whilst he’s finishing up his studies. Quietly, Roman agrees, but on the premise that if Logan and Patton start dating or worse, get married, it’s going to be rather awkward to be dating your brother in law.

Virgil laughs at that, and won’t tell Patton why.

(One month later)

Patton is almost at a weight closer to his BMI, almost. He’s not fasted in over a month, he’s getting food into him regularly in small portions, but every time he thinks about being proud of being a normal weight, his brain freaks out on him and he slowly clambers back to square one. At first Logan would have to be the one to talk him into eating, or one of the girls. But today, today he is doing it himself as he rather angrily chops up some fruit. “You are going to eat,” He mutters to himself “Because you’ve come too far now, and you have a goddamn world to see,” He throws the fruit together into a bowl and grabs the ice cream “And you are not dying in Florida having never left the state, in a body you don’t even like, and one day you are getting your goddamn tits cut off or so help me, I will fight God myself,”

Logan, amused, leans against the door and watches as Patton gives himself an angry pep talk. He glares at the bowl, grabs a fork and begins to nibble at the contents. “This ice cream is good,” He mutters “Is this real dairy ice cream, like the farm ones?”

“Yes, it is,” Patton startles, spoon clattering against the bowl. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you; I just heard angry muttering and wondered what was going on,” He smiles, a little dazed by the other boy and how he never quite fails to be adorable. “Turns out you were taking the initiative, and I’m proud of you…and fighting God? An admirable goal to live towards,”

“Well they’re always telling us we need goals to get better,” Patton smiles as he picks up the bowl and begins breaking apart the ice cream and spiking a piece of fruit onto the fork, bringing it up to his lips “And I do like to shoot for the stars,” He presses the fork into his mouth and suck the ice cream off, Logan’s throat constricts as he watches. Patton grins a little and bites down on his bottom lip.

He’s not blind, and he’s not stupid. And some part of him thought maybe it’s for the best if he just ignores it. The way Logan looks at him, he’s not even sure the other man has quite cottoned onto his own feelings. Patton wanted to give him the space to recognize them because for Logan emotions like that don’t just fall like the rain the way they do with Patton. Patton’s been loved and has loved his entire life, the same cannot be said for the elder.

Plus, he wanted to get better, enough better, so that he knows how to look after himself without depending on someone else. Apparently, he’s been doing that better than he thought.

But he still has a little while to go, he’s accepted that this voice in his head may never really go away, and he’s going to be shouting at it for a while, but until he’s at a stable point where he can do it consistently he has to wonder whether or not he’s ready for that sort of relationship. So places the fork back in the bowl and smiles at Logan’s blushing cheeks, reaching up to pat him slightly “See you later Logan,”

(Three weeks later)

“Fuck off,” Patton whines, poking at the right side of his brain lightly “We’re eating whether you like it or not,” He crosses the hallways and into the dining room, flopping down onto the chair as he grabs his plate “Dinner smells lovely,” He spoons some peas onto his plate “Thanks Josie,” Some broccoli, carrots and cauliflower. All healthy. He stares at the potatoes and bites down on his bottom lip.

He used to love potatoes.

“Hey Logan, can you pass the potatoes?” Logan grins as a short gasp runs through the girls, he hears a low chant of ‘do it’ as he takes two and pops them onto his plate, raising his glass of water “To carbs,” And dug into his meal. Logan beams, forking one of the potatoes out of the bowl. There’s a quiet hesitance before the girls start to take one, one by one. Mutually assured healing, not exactly what the eating disorder community is famous for, but for now, right now, Patton will take it.

“To carbs,” Carmella grins as she picks the skin off of the potato.

“And to Patton, who is doing wonderfully,” Logan grins.

“So are you!” The group becomes incessant in pointing out how much each other has improved for the next ten minutes, bickering over who looks best and elbowing each other. Like a family. Many of them don’t have a family who will celebrate their healing, more so shame them for gaining weight, or pick fun at their fears. In that sense Patton is lucky, he managed to get two families out of all of this.

After dinner, Patton and Logan offer to do the dishes as the girls go and find a movie to put on. Patton washes the dishes and blows the bubbles off his hand at Logan, watching the elder laugh like a child. He remembers his first day here, how Logan could barely stand on his own two feet as he trembled his way up the stairs, hands shaking, skin cold. He’s standing straight now, hands not shaking and dishes not in danger of shattering as he dries them. The two of them will probably never recover, not entirely and not completely, addiction doesn’t work like that. There are days where you consider relapsing and don’t, there are days so awful when you do. There will always be days that come and make you suffer; those days may stay for weeks. Recovery is not 100% especially when you start young, it will come in and out of your life as long as the sun rises and sets.

But they are healing. They are smiling and it feels real. Their bodies are thin, too thin for their age and height and health, but not so much they’re stood at the veil between life and death any longer. Steadily, they are climbing a large mountain that they are three-quarters of the way up.

Logan smiles at Patton, resting down the last dish as he stares at his first and only friend and feels the youngers hands press (they’re warm, so warm) against the back of his forearms. He watches Patton’s smile as it breaks his face into two, eyes shimmering with words that he doesn’t know how to say.

Patton’s hands slide gently and slowly up Logan’s arms and rest at his shoulders, hesitating just for a moment. “Please,” Logan whispers, voice cracking with nerves and fear he might have to pass out before this minute has passed; he doesn’t. Patton’s hands rest on the back of Logan’s neck as he stands on his tiptoes, and their lips press together because finally,

they’re both ready.

Ko-Fi

Taglist:

@analogical-mess // @unikornavenger // @mycatshuman // @creativity-killed-thekitten// @theresneverenoughfandoms // @charmingprincey // @aclickonapostwillchangeyourlife // @heck-im-lost//@k9cat//@stilljittery//@romansleftshoulderpad// @sanderssideslibrary // @max-is-tired //@therealmoshar// @punsterterry // @trashypansexual// //@demigodnamedathena//@sevencrashing// @misunderstood-shadow//@aphriteblack//@jemthebookworm//@sandersandthesides//@penguinkool//@georganabanana// @importantrunawaystudentstuff // @ao-koshka// @dangerous-doodle // @river-waterfall // @hell-or-high-waters // @no-sleep-gang-posts// @wxlcomxtothxjunglx //@marshmallow-the-panda// @flix-net

#eating disorder tw #sanders sides #logan sanders #patton sanders #logicality #ts sides #ts fanfic

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aprilbrowines · 5 years

Text

The Initiation

Setting: The Coffee Store, Chillaxation

The door flew opens as a young adult arrives at the coffee store. The man has reddish brown hair done in a short pompadour with a curl in front. He's broad-shouldered build and has wide pupiless red eyes, skin lightly grey wearing a yellow shirt with a lightweight leather jacket with the name tag, Lucius Vreedle written in red marker, dark blue jeans and engineer boots.

Roasted coffee is filled the air with a hint of vanilla. The whoosh of the espresso machine, and the clink of coffee cups and silverware that surround. Including the chattering from a few people talking behind a huge bookcase filled with books; spending hours perusing pages of books full of history, information, stories, inspiration, and new ideas. He listened to the sound of the jazz band played. He could tell it is a mixture of cozy, casual, and upbeat atmosphere in this place.

Lucius envelops himself from the coffee store until he bumped into a stranger, until he stared at the line of people waiting for them to order a hot or cold cup coffee. He realized his purpose on visiting the coffee store. He's looking for someone. He decides to join in the line and ask the person from the counter for help. He waited until he have not realized he found the person he was looking for, in front of the counter. Holly Test is in pouring a cup of coffee, and insert a black plastic lid. She put the drink on the tray, gave the cup to the customer and ask him to have a great day as she put the cash in the cashier. She exchange her glance at her next customer, Lucius.

“Hello,” Said Holly Test.

“Well Hi, sorry to bother you, but I’m looking for a Holly Test,” Lucius replied. Holly looks at him and gave him a nervous smile and answered:

“Um, that is me.”

Lucius extent his hand. “Oh well it's nice to meet ya miss.”

Holly stared at his hand and gulp. She didn't expect anyone to know her. She never Lucius see this expression on her face

“Aw come on I won't bite,” said Lucius.

“How do I know you won't?" Holly questioned.

“My Meema always taught to respect ladies. Otherwise I'll end up like my why you might call deadbeat dad.” answered Lucius.

Holly accept the hand shakes.

“This man know my name," Holly thought. "Hmm he is honest,"

Holly examines in carefully carefully. "The question is.... who told him about me?"

“Might as well get something don't want keep the line long, got anything strong?”

Lucius scans the menu to see what to buy. In the back of the line, a young tanned skin teenager in the back waiting patiently. He have medium-length wavy honey blond hair and is wearing a black skinny jeans, purple plaid shirt, and red converse with white leather gloves. He try to be cool but Lucius is talking to the redhead. He tapped his foot on the floor and staring at the clock as time goes by. Suddenly he started to snapped.

“HURRY UP DUDE GET OUR FOOD AND LET’S GO!” said Morgan, with his hands in the air. , Yelled Morgan.

Lucius turns his head to glare at Morgan. Holly gulps as she watch the two starting to fight. People began to noticed and stared at them. One person is filming them on their phone. She took a deep breath and let go in order to avoid thinking negative possibilities. Holly watched and thinks of the possibilities of what would happens: One of them getting injured, properties being broken, and worse of all, a video posted on the web and goes viral. So Holly did the best she could to stop the fight.

“We have black coffee,” suggested Holly. “But I suggest sea salt and caramel coffee float for a mixture of bitter and sweetness.”

“Sorry about that miss my friend is a little bit in a hurry,”

“Well maybe if you weren't taking your sweet ass time I wouldn't be.”

“DROP DEAD MORGAN!”

As the air grew more tense, no one did not interfere the problem because until Janaya returning from the kitchen holding a tray of fresh-baked pastries and putting them in a large tin metal box, a keeper (A storage unit to preserved pastries), arrives to stop the fight by staring at the two emotionlessly. He cannot believed they started fighting again.

“Settles down you two” said Janaya. “You Don't want to give a lot of attention.”

Morgan and Lucius looked at Janaya and said: “Sorry sir.”

Janaya crossed his armed and true his stare into a glare. “Don't apologizes to me,” he replied, pointed at Holly. “You two are lucky... you should not mess with the this girl.”

The two looks at Holly thinking that she looks like a normal and sweet person. Holly heard this and starting to flushed deep red. She could not believe.

“Does he thinks she looks tough?” Lucius thought as he got his cup. “How much would that be?”

“$1.85 plus tax.” Holly stated. Lucius reach in his pocket pulling out a crumpled five dollar bill Holly put the money in the cashier and gives him the changes.

“Thank ya kindly,” Lucius thanked.

“Any time.”

Setting: The Coffee Store again, but this time outside.

“So you know my name. Mr. Vreedle,” said Holly sitting at a table outside as she is talking to the potential recruit. She's twirls her pen between her two fingers and tap her pen on the table reserves for customers, but since her shift is over, and Janaya and her father suggested she should be interviewing the man named Lucius Vreedle. After all, he is interested in joining The Synonymous. This is her first time being a interviewer. It is usually Ethan, Tamara, Andrew who done these.

“You have gotten have connections somewhere. The people who know my name are either my friend, family, and a few people. A lot of people who know me during my childhood have forgotten me. You can say I was invisible. I am guessing is our magical friends sitting with us.

Holly stared at Morgan and Janaya sitting with him. She never thought two recruits would come to meet her rather than Ethan Corduroy himself.

“So..... you two want to join The Synonymous hmm?” Holly questioned. “The flyer?”

The two candidates answered her question in their own manner:

“Well I tried to go join the Plumbers but due to some "accident mishaps" they've kick me out. So I check out this flyer saying they needed members and I went.”

“And I was a vigilante taking the law into my own hands and protecting the little people.” said Morgan, standing on the table doing a dramatic pose. Lucius pulls Morgan down back on his chair. Morgan glare Lucius.

“This is a "community service" group not a comedic duo try out. The comedy try out is a few blocks away,” Janaya said sarcastically. “Go get your performances somewhere else.”

“Stop being sarcastic Janaya,” said Holly.

He rolled his eyes. "I may seem normal until people get to know me."

Holly ignored him and continuing interviewing Morgan and Lucius.

“I expects that you and Morgan are childhood friends then enemies,” Holly affirmed. She wrote their answer down on a piece of paper. She lean Morgan's ear and whisper: "You do realizes there are people in the cafe, which means we are not alone. So you made a mistake on saying you been doing vigilante work. But anyway. I would like to know about what skills you possess. So that my and Janaya's boss, Mr. Ethan Corduroy would determined which group you are in. Plus what jobs do you guys take. We split our earnings in order to support our organization of our, since we are not like the Vanguard League.”

Holly's tone is cold and expression match as well the two recruits notice that her pen is covered in frost.

“You ok miss?” said Lucius

“Yeah your pen it's…”

Holly snapped out of her trace and stared at her pen. She cannot believe she freezes her pen. Luckily, she got a spare pen on the flap of her ear and lend it to Morgan.

Morgan wrote "I have magic power” and gave it to Lucius. Lucius wrote “I'm a gifted mechanical engineer. Creating weapons and gadgets what not”

Holly stared at their answer and thinks for a moment. But Lucius, he is a mechanical engineer, which he is perfect for The Synonymous because the van that Lucky fixed that he found in the dump. It barely work and run down easily.

Holly wrote the next question down on a sheet of paper. “Do you have any fighting skills, for "self-defense"?”

Lucius wrote his weapons the Aquablaster and shock gloves down on the napkin and gave it to Holly

Holly stared at it the napkin. She never expects that Lucius use weapons for fighting. It awfully reminds him of Lucky. Lucky could use his microwave rifle gun, his M.U.G. (Multiple Usage Gun), an army of ninja bots, and his own battle suit to fight to make up for his combat skills.These two would be best friends if they get along. But then she starting to doubt that they might be rivals.

Holly wrote down the Synonymous’ subgroups: Arcane, Stormbreakers (Heavy-hitter missions), and Huntsmen (Stealth missions) and Affiliate on the paper.

“Even if you circle any. Ethan will get to decides which group is best for you.” Holly added.

Morgan wrote two questions down on a piece of his own napkin and passed it on to Holly. While Lucius circled Affiliate.

“What's arcane and affiliate?”

Holly wrote the answer down on the napkin. “The definition of Affiliate is officially attach or connect (a subsidiary group or a person) to an organization. While, Arcane are subgroup that have versatile abilities, being to fight up close or from afar, and being able to use these versatile abilities to do stealth.”

Morgan circled Arcane.

"He's want to be with Janaya,” Holly predicted in her mind. “I am not sure. I means....... true they are magic users. But they need to pass “the test”."

Lucius *writing*: So which group are you in miss test? "Janaya said to not mess with her better keep that in mind" Lucius thought

Holly wrote her answer. “I am a member of The Arcane likes Janaya.”

“Cool,” Morgan thought.

Holly got up and whisper to Lucius. "Meet me at the abandon subway. Lucius nodded.

At the abandoned subway:

Lucius walked into the hollowed-out cavern. People thinks it is a waste of space, but him, it is a beautiful, imposing art deco relic that, for the last 20 years, has been left to crumble. The uncompleted subway tunnels and stations have been described as "in good shape". This is partially credited to the original construction quality, and partially the usage of tax revenues, due to the presence of Verdona Hills on top of it.

The subway tunnel is double-tracked throughout its entire length, with a concrete wall separating the two tracks. There are openings in the wall enable persons to step from one track to another. The tunnels are well ventilated and provide much light. Probably someone must have fixed them. Each tunnel has parallel wooden stringers which are bolted to the floor, and are intended to support steel rails that were never laid.

“Where is she?” Lucius thought as staring at his watch and then he looks around the subway. He would have scowl off and complains, but his meema always taught him to wait for a woman if she is late due to making a good impression, even during a battle.

"Well, well. Looks have I found."

Lucius hear a robotic-like voice and turns around He saw Holly but different. Instead of looking at her teal/navy blue gradient eyes covering with her glasses that are so warm and sweet that matches her smile. He see her eyes ice blue underneath her goggle. Her the color of her eyes could diminish the fire, yet Holly have that determination on face. She was wearing a lower face mask with voice. She is wearing an armor under a puffy purple jacket, she has icy blue skin. Her hair is covered in her hood. It appeared that her blasters are an ambidextrous arm cannon. They are both connected by a huge machine on her back. This reminded Lucius of Mei from Overwatch and Megaman.

“Nice outfit,” Lucius complimented. “Your alter ego I presume?”

"Lucifer, that is what you were called as a vigilante," Said Holly in a robotic voice from her voice modification low face mask. "This is where we fight to see if you are worthy enough to be an affiliate for The Synonymous. Instead of fighting me as Holly Test, you are facing the Synonymous' Ice Queen."Holly's eyes glows. Lucius running to the tunnel. Holly take a single step, causing ice to encased the ground. “Not so fast!” Holly shouted, as she took another step forward and the ice caught his legs. “Shit,” he said as he tried to pull his legs out, but to no success. Holly converts her shoes into ice skates, by forming blades of ice on her soles and skated on the ice. She aimed the blaster to his face."You thinks I created them do you?" she questioned him. "Yes, only to enhanced, controlled, and improved my powers."

Morgan and Janaya witnessing the fight. in the tunnel. Janaya filming the fight using a video camera while Morgan's mouth opened wide as he watch in awe. Lucius’ hand start to emitted electricity, activating his taser gloves.

“Sorry,” said Lucius, he push his hand to tased Holly. “Go Lucius!” Morgan cheered. But, the dramatic scene cut short when Holly’s deactivated her blaster canon and grabbed his wrist, quickly freezing his arm. Holly gave Lucius an unamused expression.

"Holly Test, aged 17, A metahuman by chemical mutation." said Janaya. Morgan and Lucius hears the word “metahuman”, they never expects that The Synonymous also have metahuman like her. The Synonymous have many members that are extraordinary that the Vanguard League doesn't have. "I told Lucius that she is more than just an inventor. And a shy girl."

Holly then shifts her hand back to blaster mode and blast cold frost at Lucius causing him “Didn't your mama told you it's past your bedtime,” Holly taunted him. Janaya's eyes widen in fear he shove the video camera to Morgan and tackled Holly. Morgan keep the camera filming.

“As no, Holly, no get out of character. You almost gave him frostbite”

“Sorry,” she apologized staring at the ground, flushing in embarrassment. “I’m trying my best to act cool to be just like my father. But not in a villainous way.”

Morgan watch in horror as Lucius shivers from the cold. There is frost all over his body. "Are you all right?”, Janaya questioned with a concerned voice.

“N-n-never been b-b-better s-s-s-sorry I w-w-wasn't q-q-quick to the draw.” Lucius answered.

“Thanks God she didn't bring a baseball bat.”

At Holly's place Lucifer return after a hot shower. Lucius having a towel wrapped around his neck and a blue bathrobe, he watched as Holly getting scold by her father, Mr. Test in the living room. “Holly, I understands you are testing his strength and all, but freezing him to death? I expects you to be better with that behavior of your.”

Morgan and Janaya sitting there watching TV while Josie threw shurikens on the wall. Mr. Test turns his head toward his niece and starts scolding at her as well. “Josie, how many time have I told you not to throw shurikens on the wall?”

“I am sorry but I don't speaks-pbbt” Josie said angrily closing her eyes and sticking out her tongue. Joby doing his best to finished his math, but still struggling. "Holly, would you please help me?"

"Coming" she reply, as she went over to help him.

“I'm guess I fail that test?” Lucius said sadly.

“That was so crazy.”

“At least it is not worse than your,” said Janaya.

Morgan give Janaya a mystified expression as though he had just declared himself to be a flying purple cow.

“Huh? Your what?” Morgan questioned because he is confused on what Janaya said.

“Your test.” Janaya answered.

Morgan eyes widen while, Janaya reach into his trench coat to reveal a foreign stainless steel telescopic staff and dual telescopic ends. He removes his trench coat and gives it to Mr. Test.

Lucius pat Morgan back. “Well good luck lil bub hopeful you’ll do much better than I did.”

A couples minutes have passed. Morgan is unable to move from being binded by snakes made of written runes. Janaya used his bo staff and wrist elbow strike him, finishing the final blow. Morgan flips out of the way. Janaya detached his bo staff into escrima sticks and swing one of them in the shoulder and the other one to the chest. He low sweep him. Morgan rolls out of way blast some mana blast janaya dodges the blast teleport does a Sirkulo (Circular strikes) to Morgan's collarbone and then a linear strike on the same area. Morgan grabs his hand.

“Hmm?”

Morgan hand glows as he felt somewhat recharged He pulls his hand back quickly, Janaya de-extend his escrima sticks attached them back together and it turn into a wand. “Crap that wasn't supposed to happen,” Morgan thought.

“Sea Serpent's Hiss!”

Morgan throws a small stone creature which in turn grew to the size of a pit bull.The wand manifests the head of a sea serpent with sharp teeth, and fires it at the pit bull. The pit bull breaks because water is super effective against rocks causing the pit bull and Morgan to push back against the wall causing him to falls down on the floor.

“Try and catch me now,” Morgan chants, he slide in the portal closing it behind. Janaya concentrates and use his ears to visualizes what Morgan is going to do between instinct and prediction.

Janaya's eyes are widen and turn to see Morgan out of the portal. “You are there!!!!” he said as he points his wand and shoot a blast of fire at him. Morgan summon a force field to protect himself. Janaya snapped his fingers from his right hand and summon of ring of ball of fire surrounding him and the force field.

“Ring of Fire: Shield Break.”

The fireballs all go together and hit the force field causing it to break. Janaya summon rain of fire balls at Morgan. Morgan zigzags to escape the fireballs.

“Flash frenzy!”

Small explosions of flashing lights appear causing a diversion. “Dusty darkness,” Morgan said as he released black smokes from his mouth toward Janaya. Janaya obscure by the surrounding of the fog of smoke. Janaya point his wand at a moment of the smoke.

"Ribbon spiral"

A ribbon of dark energy blasted from his wand, wrapping around Morgan.

“No way.” Morgan said in awe as he is tangled and binded by a ribbon made of darkness. Morgan struggles to get out as Janaya walk up closed to him and he finger pistol him.

“Mind Wave.”

At first, Morgan thought the spell failed, but soon something mind went blank all of a sudden. His will try tell him to starts thinking and strategizing, but his mind won't budge from the trace.

“Void Nova.”

A black hole from the bottom appears from Morgan's feet.

Janaya let go of the ribbon and let Morgan fall. Mr. Test, Lucius, Joby and Holly sat down on the couch watching the fight. While Josie holding a video camera.

“Why in my house!?” whined Mr. Test as he sat down on the couch that is slowly burning, looking down. The living room is now a mess; picture frames broken and on the floor, the other couch is up in flame (not big enough to burn it completely only a small flame), books all over the ground in ripped up piles.

“You know I am your sponsor.”

“Wait, why is your spell call Void Nova?" Holly questioned as she stare at the hole.

The hole engulfs Morgan in a searing white light. Holly, Lucius, Joby, Josie and Mr. Test see a pillar of white light out of the hole. Janaya smiles. "This is my own version of Eclipsa's dark magic spell, Black Velvet Inferno."

“Will he be ok?” Lucius asked in concern.

"To tell the truth, this is my first time using this spell. So I don't know, Dark magic is dangerous."

The light being to dimmer as Morgan’s eyes glow orange. “I'm not giving up.” He said in determination. Morgan fly up to stop himself from falling and stares at Janaya.

"Heh bring it on" he extend his wand, now a bo staff and start spinning it, he teleported in front of Morgan and linear smack his head lightly. But suddenly Morgan made his own searing light, but instead of white, it is yellow, causing everyone to covered their own eyes until the light die down. Morgan eyes turned back to normal.

“Did I win?”

Morgan heard a groan of pain, he turned his back around and see Janaya lying on the floor. Lucius gulps in fear as he realized that Morgan used his life-draining powers.

“Will he be ok?”

Holly watch in horror as well.

“Yes,” Holly guessed. “But....He looked drained out....”

Morgan looked scared when Holly said it.

“There was a flash of light when all of sudden Janaya knocked out.”

Morgan’s lips starting to quiver. “No no not like this,”

Janaya struggling to get up. He clenched his no staff for support.

“I-I’m okay.”

“I’m so so sorry,”, Morgan said as tears being to form.

Janaya slowly walks up to him and pats his shoulder, to stop him from crying.

"I slept 3 hours of sleep, that is all You didn't use your father's powers. Honest.”

“Are you sure?

Janaya nodd, Morgan breath a sigh of relief that it wasn't his fault at all.

"He fell for my lies," Janaya thought. "Thanks goodness."

“So how did i do?”

Janaya starting to thinks. Morgan have been training magic and other skills by both his mother and great uncle. These skills he learnt have give him the advantages for him to fight crimes as a vigilante, such as robbery and carjacking. Yet Janaya thinks of the power that made his eyes, hand, and body glow. It could be dangerous to have someone in The Synonymous. But that would cocky or be a hypocritical because Holly used to be like Morgan, not using her powers because of her fear of hurting others. However she have been learning to controls it before joining The Synonymous. With the help of Vertex, The Synonymous’ intergalactic drifter, she have better controls of her metahuman powers. Maybe he can help Morgan as well. Janaya finally made his decision.

“I must say…... You pass,” Janaya concluded as he gave him thumbs up.

Morgan put his hands up in the air, bursting with energetic energy.

“All right!”

“Congratulation bub.” Lucius cheered

Josie gave Holly the video camera and smiles at the two recruiters.

“We will show the videos to Ethan and he will decide his decision for you two. He will sent you a text messenger if he know your contact numbers.

Lucius and Morgan gave each other a high five, then a elbow bump, Morgan crying happily while Lucius jump and twirl around as if they are celebrating New Year Eve.

As the boys celebrated, they didn't know that a winged creature covered in the color black, a fiend witness this from the window outside. The fiend fly back to the base, The Insomniacs. Once it got back, it landed on Vincent's head. Vincent's fiend came out of his body and have a long conversation with the flying fiend.

“Are you sure your eye on not fooling you?” said the Fiend.

The flying fiend answered with a nod. Vincent's fiend told his master everything. Vincent walked out of the kitchen and passed the hallway and headed straight to a lab where he see Ariel working on their weapon. Vincent scowled at them and leaned against the table with his arms crossed.

“Ariel,” Vincent muttered. Ariel stopped taking their notes as they caught his attention when Vincent said his name. “The Synonymous got themselves fresh meats.”

“I see,” Ariel replied as they he continue doing their little project of his. “But here is something interesting. Apparently my flying fiend, the one who had observed, said that you know these two.”

The flying fiend stretches his wings and used points at a photo frame on his table. The photo frame displayed a photo Ariel, Morgan, and Lucius as children. The genetic scientist shifted their eyes at the picture with his eyes widen, yet still remained as a stone

“We used to be friends,”, they answered. “But we...grew apart.”

“The plot thickens any second thoughts?” Vincent asked with a question along with it.

“Just be careful about Morgan,”, Ariel advised.

“He's more than Fool.”

Vincent start continuing stirring his mixing bowl until another flying fiendrised up out of his bowl.

“Very well,” Vincent accepted. “But do not say that. A Fool means he have powers far beyond others. Your so-called friends will regrets that they tarnish their honors of their evil roots of their parents he said as he release the fiends.”

“What the hell are those?” Lucius cried out as

Holly lower the temperatures causing the first group of fiends to breaks as they fall one by one as if they are fragile glass falling to their sweet death. Lucius pulled out his aquablaster, aimed at the remaining group of fiends and actives hydro pump mode. The fiends were squirted away. One of the fiend containing the Belladonna as a part of the ingredient attacked Lucius, paralyzing him.

Morgan use his stone creature to grab the fiend and throws it. “Janaya, can you fight?”, Morgan turned his head to see Janaya right behind him walking around with his BO staff. Janaya answered Morgan by casting a waves of fire, expanding rings of fireballs, rains of fireballs, and spiraling pillars of flames at the fiends. The second group of fiends are turned to crisps. As the battle roses on outside of the neighborhood of Holly, Morgan and Lucius see Ariel in the air. He is watching over them as his wings on his back are flapping continuously. In a matter of second, he vanished out of thin air.

“That's not good.” Morgan gulped.

Alverta sitting in her chair to stop reading her Necronomicon and coldly glares at both Vincent and Ariel for coming back from the base late. She have been ordered by Virus to wait for them before she can go to sleep. She is in charge of monitoring them tonight for evaluation.

“The two of you should spy on them, not attacked them,” signed Alverta. “I cannot believe you two disobey him.”, Vincent signed back to Alverta. “We have no choice. We do not want our predecessors to mocks us that we do not take actions.”

“Beside,” Ariel signed, joining in on the conversation. “While they were distracted of the fiends got something from one of them.”, Ariel held Lucius's tooth in their hand.

Alverta’s eyes shifted on the tooth and then at Ariel. “I thought you do not performed experiments on humans?”

“It would be interesting if you do.” Alverta thought.

“Technically Lucius isn't exactly human per say.” Ariel corrected her so that she won't thinks they are a hypocrite. “He's an alien.”

Meanwhile, back at Holly's home. Holly and Lucius are in the kitchen. Holly is stand there putting both of her hands on an ice pack on Lucius' cheek while he is sitting down.

“Well guess I'll eating soup for a while,” Lucius joking around with a smile exposing his gap teeth.

“Good choice,” Holly replied.

Morgan biting the nail of his thumb angrily as he just witness his old friend, Ariel. He can not believed that Ariel would start an ambush and one of those things just remove lucius’s tooth.

“That Jerk I can't believe he..ARRGH!” he snarled as he gritted his teeth.

“Jerk who? Your friend?” said Janaya.

“Our...former friend.” Morgan quietly answer while glaring on the floor, instead of Janaya.

“He's a member of the Alliance.” Janaya predicted. “I never know how you 3 broken up. But it is not my business nor my concern.”

“Must have been a what you might call failed ambush.”

Holly examined the gap teeth to analyzed if the tooth, the failed ambush of fiends, and Lucius and Morgan's friend were connected somehow.

“His skills is must have allows The Young Blood Alliance to let him join must have something to do with science depending on your tooth. Am I right?” Holly asked. “Which means.... fiends with a hint of your tooth dust. Which contains your Alien DNA?”

Morgan and Janaya looked concern. Morgan and Lucius imagined Ariel's laughing in their hideout, extracting the tooth for whatever purpose he is planning to do. “We better keep our guard up then.” Lucius suggested. At the same time, Ariel held up a tooth, admiring what he did and thinking of all the possibility as they extract the Lucius’ tooth with an extractor. Ariel laughs maniacally, causing the laughter to echo across the base causing everyone to stay awake with his laugh, until it got cut short.

“Would you keep it down?!” Violet yelled as she breaks Ariel's door to his lab with her Starbolt. Her glowing eyes obscure her dark circles. “It's 2 fuckin’ AM!! God, just because our job is at night can't at least a few of us get some sleep.”

Ariel stopped laughing. “Sorry.”

Vertex, Lucky, and Ethan (mention) @ej-cappy-universe/EJTHE24TH

Violet @hotsassbacon

Alverta Tang, Vincent, Holly Test, Josie Test, Joby Test, and Janaya Lynn-Thomas by TheMarioFan1/ @froppy-butterflyfan2000

Ariel, Morgan, and Lucius belong to horohorogirl666/ @aprilbrowines

#ocs #fankids #collab #story #callyieverse

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