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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

Note

93. I hire your matchmaking services but all the people you set me up with are horrible and I’m demanding a refund and you’re asking me for one more chance??? what are you going to do? be my date?

Indruck, nsfw, please!

Here you go! I was inspired by @kriskukko's incredible art for the orc designs in this, and I highly recommend checking them out!

“Indrid? Some from Kepler House is here to speak with you.” Ned pokes his head into Indrid’s rooms.

“Drat” Indrid hisses, dressing gown whipping about him as he scrambles to put the apartment in order while also dragging his notes on the man in question to the forefront, “I didn’t forsee anyone coming by today, goodness, he had his first engagement with Lady Austens daughter last night, what on earth could they need to see me for?” He tosses his spare pens aside, landing them in his second set of house slippers.

“Well, dear boy, given the luck you’ve had with them lately-”

“It’s not luck, it’s simply very unlikely futures. Please just, just stall whoever it is a moment, Leo is usually patient and-”

“I’m afraid I cannot do that my friend.”

“Why not? I watched you once talk an entire flock of constables away from your door. Praytell, why can Ned “Silver Tongue” Chicane not get rid of a single attendant?”

“Because the attendant ain’t here this time.”

Indrid slams the drawer of his desk, looking up as an orc in a deep brown suit steps into the room, tossing his hat onto the table. He’s shorter than Indrid and Ned (stout and strong, according to the notes Indrid received), wavy black hair streaked with grey at the front. One eye is blue, the other brown, and both regard the harried matchmaker with casual annoyance.

“Mr. Newton, I, ah, I was not expecting you to visit me.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to be on a date where she found me so damn dull she hailed a cab as soon as dinner was done. I was already in town on some business for Minerva, so I decided to come tell you I ain’t in need of your services anymore.”

“I beg your pardon? Your benefactor employed me to find you a suitable match and I intend to do just that. I know there have been missteps, but such things are to be expected when searching for one’s lifelong partner.”

“Uh huh. And the fact I’m Lady Minerva’s chosen heir, which means there are a bunch of folks waitin to mimic my style and choices, has got nothin to do with it.”

“I, ah, I can’t say that I’m ignorant of the potential repercussions of being the one assigned to locate a spouse for you.”

“Which is the long way of sayin you know damn well that if I decide to stop askin you for help, no one with money is ever gonna come to you again.”

There’s a determined set to his rounded jaw, and a glimpse at the future suggests Indrid will have better luck with a different tactic

“....were they really so awful?”

“Yes. They were rude, or thought I was rude, or thought I was dull, or we just had fuck-all in common.”

“Have you considered you might just be a tad more demanding than average?”

“It ain’t demandin to want the person I spend the rest of my life with to actually like me.” He sighs, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cold, but unless you got a real winner up your sleeve, I’m done.”

All responses, all timelines show Duck ending his time as Indrid’s client and walking out the door.

“You could try me!”

“Really?” Duck looks deeply unconvinced.

“I will admit it’s unorthodox, but I, I foresee us having a perfectly nice time together. It will let me prove that I am capable of choosing companions for you.”

The shorter orc looks him up and down more deliberately and Indrid fights not to draw his dressing gown tighter. He will not be intimidated by some newcomer from across the sea.

“Okay, I’ll make you a deal. I got to go to this concert tomorrow; someone from Kepler house is expected to show and Minerva is busy. You’re comin with me.” He holds Indrid’s gaze, daring him to renege on his offer.

Indrid summons his best, professional grin, “I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

---------------------------------------

Indrid smooths his waistcoat and jacket as he steps from the cab, tucks a strand of his silver hair behind his ear. It’s his only concession to the nerves skittering up and down his spine.

Gatherings such as these are nothing new to him; he goes to them to gather new information and new clients, to remind the well-to-do families of London and beyond that he is the matchmaker extraordinaire. But there is always the moment between when they see him and when they recognize him, when every face in the room wonders why someone like him dares to enter their space.

Somewhere in Indrid’s ancestry is a love story between an orc and a goblin. His silver hair, very angular features, and complete lack of tusks or fangs is the proof. The red eyes don’t help--they unsettle everyone who sees them--but his mother insists they’re evidence of other orcs gifted with rare magic on her side of the family. He wears red spectacles over them just to be safe; he rather likes how the color stands out against his skin, and his glasses let him avoid prying questions.

Duck is waiting for him under the awning outside the music hall; he’s in a grey day suit this time, looking just as understatedly handsome as he did yesterday morning. Indrid must admit his desire to save his reputation is not the only reason he agreed to this; he cannot understand why Duck is having such trouble meeting his match. He’s good looking, moneyed, American--an exotic background in the eyes of the average, sheltered upper-class orc--but still has family history here in England. All Indrid’s matches showed a high probability of success. The point of failure must lie with the orc himself.

“Afternoon, Mr. Cold.” Duck smiles with everything but his eyes.

“Indrid is fine, given the reason for our meeting.”

Duck nods. Indrid wishes the ground would swallow one of them up. When the pavement fails to oblige, he offers his arm. The shorter orc takes it, both of them doffing their hats as they step inside.

“I, uh, like the earring.” Duck indicates the moth cuff on Indrid’s left ear, a stark contrast to the single gold hoop in his own.

“Thank you. A friend gave it to me. I, ah, I rather enjoy working moths into my wardrobe; I find them fascinating.”

“Y’know, back home we got moths that look like hummingbirds.”

“Really?” Indrid’s ear twitches, “how big?”

Duck holds up his hands to indicate the size. Indrid is about to demand details when they’re waylaid by their hostess and pulled into a cluster of families. Indrid breathes deep, feeling crowded in, and notices Duck routinely being cut off in conversation or given disapproving looks behind his back. Yes, Indrid supposes his manners are a bit rough, but there’s no harm in that. Too, everyone seems far more interested in the goings on at Kepler House and with Lady Minerva than with Duck himself. By the time they’re seated, their arms feel locked together from shared tension.

The violinists are quite good; Indrid enjoys strings, his recordings of them being his favorite music to listen to while drawing. But his mind is so consumed by futures and by thoughts about the orc beside him that he struggles to focus on the music. Duck is having a similar issue, though he hides it well; were they not side by side, Indrid would miss the way he fidgets with the knee of his trousers.

“Are you alright?” He whispers under the applause.

“N-ye-uh. Fuck. I, the musics real nice but I gotta say I’m gettin kinda bored. But I got no fuckin clue if leavin will piss everyone here off.”

“Intermission is soon. When it comes, keep quiet and follow my lead.”

When the guests rise to stretch their legs and fetch refreshments, Indrid guides Duck to their hostess.

“I’m so very sorry, but I’m afraid my stomach is rather angry with me and it’s best if I go home. Duck has agreed to accompany me so I do not pass out in the street. I’m sure you understand.”

She nods, and in a matter of moments they’re out on the street, each breathing deeply.

“Thanks for that.”

“My pleasure.”

“Guess I oughta just head back to the hotel.” Duck sighs.

“You could. But, ah, we’re not far from Kew Gardens and the weather isn’t miserably cold for once. If you’d like-”

“Hell yeah. Wait, fuck, sorry, tryin to swear less in public.”

“I don’t really mind.” Indrid starts them down the street.

“Lots of them do” Duck tips his head back towards the concert hall, “I mean, at least that rule is easier to figure out. It’s not that there aren’t weird rules and class stuff back home, but I grew up learnin them. Here I always feel like I’m one move away from makin an ass of myself. No one’ll say anything because of Minerva, but I know if it weren’t for her, none of ‘em would give me the time of day. It makes every interaction so goddamn stressful.”

Indrid twinges with sympathy, “When I first started in these circles, I wrote myself notecards and had Ned test me on them.”

Duck giggles, so absurd and loud it draws stares from passersby, “why? You seem to know your stuff.”

“I didn’t come from money, and I don’t always read social situations the way others expect. It was learn or live as a penniless artist for all my days.” As the gardens come into view he adds, “I know the basics of your life in America but if you weren’t here, what would you be doing there?”

“Workin in the Yosemite valley. I was a ranger there for a few years before Minerva called me here.”

“What was that like?”

Duck tells him as they wander the first stretches of the gardens. He’s midway through a tangent about bears when he stops.

“Holy fuck, you’re really still listenin.”

“Of course I am, this is fascinating.”

His companion smiles, “Glad you think so. But it ain’t polite for me to dominate the conversation like this. Now you gotta tell me what you do when you’re not gettin fancy folks together.”

“...You promise you will finish the story about the bear and the tent later.”

“You know it.”

Indrid knows that time passes more quickly with good company, but he’s still startled when the sun sets. The Savoy, where Duck is staying, is closer than his home, so their cab stops there first.

Duck pauses halfway out the door, “Meet me here for dinner tomorrow?”

Indrid grins, “I’d like nothing more.”

--------------------------------

“I didn’t know the line even went this far.” Indrid watches the moors race by them out the window of the train.

“You and me both.” Duck rotates his map, glances at the letter he received a week ago, “okay, once we get off at Amnesty, we need someone to take us down Greenbank road. The house is at the end of it, somewhere around here.” He taps a patch of moor miles from anything else. Indrid studies his fingers and is glad that, of his more rugged habits, one he elected to keep was letting his nails stay claws rather than filing them down.

“My visions suggest that as long as we don’t ask anyone to drive us out after dark, we should have no trouble reaching it.”

Indrid tries not to be too giddy at the prospect of spending weeks and weeks more or less alone in the countryside with Duck. They’re going because an anonymous note informed him that he did indeed have a family estate and--once they determined that the house near Dartmoor did indeed legally belong to him--it was decided he would go to see how the old place was doing and perhaps take up residence.

He asked Indrid to come without even glancing up from the telegram from the solicitor. Indrid agreed without looking away from his drawing. If two months of semi-courtship in a crowded city got them close enough for that, Indrid dares to hope that being out here together will bring them closer still.

Amnesty is small, as they both expected, the air chilly and fog threatening to swallow whole buildings as they make their way to the Lodge where they’ve been told they can find a driver. When Duck asks the young woman working the counter for help getting to Greenbank Hall, she quirks her lips in a frown.

“I’m not sure there’s even a place called that around here….OH! Do you mean Beacon House?”

“Maybe?” Duck looks at Indrid, who quickly looks at the futures.

“Yes, it seems we do.”

“Okay. Since it's still light, I should be able to find someone to get you out there. If it comes down to it, I can, like, drive you out myself.”

They end up being driven by a friendly young man named Jake, who deposits them and their bags on the steps of the massive house with a friendly wave farewell.

“Agh” Indrid shivers as they step through the newly unlocked doors, “I think it’s actually warmer outside.”

“No kiddin. Damn fog means it’s already gettin too dark to see too. I’ll go get some kind of fire started, you see if you can find some lanterns or candles so we ain’t trippin all over ourselves.”

Indrid begins his search, comes to the kitchen and finds some matches and a candle. The solicitor arranged for food and other supplies to be brought in ahead of time, so in theory lanterns should be somewhere nearby. He’s just glad that the paltry light shows no signs of rodents getting into their food.

When he gets upstairs, he discovers two things; one, all the lamps are gas, so he’s able to light them easily. And two, a mother tortoiseshell cat is nesting with her kittens on a guest bed.

“Well, that explains the lack of mice.”

Footsteps behind him, “Got a fire goin in the sittin room, if you wanna pick a room for yourself I can light one th--awwwww” Duck moves past him towards the cat, who hisses at him, “now, there ain’t any need for that, missy. I ain’t gonna hurt you or your babies. But we oughta bring you somethin more’n mice to eat.”

“I saw some tinned food in the pantry.”

“Perfect, lemme go find a bowl.”

----------------------------------

Beacon House has seen better days, but Indrid discovers the houses loss is his gain. Duck decides they can do many of the repairs themselves, and sets about ordering supplies from London or bringing them in from Amnesty. The few times they need help, the cook and several others from the Lodge come to assist in the project. These gatherings are far more pleasant than any Indrid had to attend for work (well, except for the ones where he was with Duck). And they always end before dusk.

Indrid occupies himself with figuring out why. There was no mention of this house when he first researched Duck, and even using the local name turns up very little. It’s not until he finds a diary belonging to one H. Newton in the library that he understands.

October the 15th, 1805

I fear the worst is upon me. I cannot leave the house, dare not even peer out the windows for fear of what I shall see. Lucy says it is my health, that we should travel to warmer regions so it will improve. But I know it is not so simple. Were we to flee, it would merely wait for our return. It may even waylay us before we reached town. I am cursed. We are cursed. We always will be.

Beneath the words is a hastily sketched image; yellow eyes and sharp fangs peering from between the bars of the front gate.

There are no more entries.

Indrid is unsure whether to raise the matter with Duck. On the one hand, he wishes him to know of any possible dangers. On the other, his friend is so very content these days, coming in from some project or other with grime on his skin and a smile on his face. Indrid’s own desire to stay with him here, in a house he can pretend is theirs, threatens to drown out all other reasons.

Eventually, his conscience shouts it down while he and Duck are on their evening walk.

“Oh yeah, Barclay told me about that a few days ago. Some ghost apparently wanders around the moor at night; got somethin to do with a murderous ancestor.”

“That does not alarm you.”

“You know I don’t believe in curses and destiny or anythin like that. People make up all kinds of stories when they’re alone in wild places.”

Indrid’s foresight guides his arm, gripping Duck and keeping him from moving forward.

“Does that look like a story?”

Directly ahead of them, a tor rises like a spike. Atop it, revealed by the rising moon, is a gigantic, fur-covered shape.

“See” Duck whispers, “were we back home, I’d say that was a bear.”

“And now?”

“Given there ain’t been bears in this part of the world in decades, I say we get the hell outta here.”

They take off back down the slope, the hall a collection of yellow squares of light in the darkening distance. A howl splits the air behind them and Indrid quickens his pace, keeps his eyes on the future in hopes of protecting them both.

This means he doesn’t see the burrow in the path until his ankle goes sideways in it.

“‘Drid!”

“Under no circumstances are you to try and help meAH!” He yelps as Duck swings him over his shoulder and continues his flight towards the house. As he’s bounced about, Indrid watches a glowing shape bounding closer.

“Thank fuck.” Duck crosses the gate, slams them closed, and lowers Indrid to his feet. Nothing glares at them from the path. But a growl creeps from the shadows and follows them until they shut the door.

------------------------------------------

“How’s the ankle?” Duck drops his coat on the chair opposite Indrid before tending to the fire.

“Better than yesterday. I should be up and moving tomorrow, if the futures are to be believed.”

“You know you don’t gotta rush. I’m happy to take care of you.”

Indrid picks at the ends of the blanket in his lap, “but I miss being able to aid you with work.”

“There’ll be lots of time for that. We got plenty to do to get the house to where we can live in it full time.”

“We?”

Duck goes completely still, then fails to put the fire poker back in place three separate times. When he finally meets Indrid’s eyes, he looks worried.

“‘Drid? What’s your endgame? With, uh, with me?”

“I…” Indrid grabs his teacup, intending to drink it to buy time and finds it empty, ‘I...I don’t know. I, I wanted to prove to you that I could find you a companion who made you happy, hoping you would give me another chance to locate your perfect match. But lately I, ah, I struggle to see that plan working. As I do not wish you to have any match but me.”

Duck moves across the rug, shadows on his face making it hard to read.

“I know that shows great selfishness on my part. If that is not something you wish to have in your life I, I…” he shrinks back as Duck leans down, certain this is the timeline where he accuses him of being a conniving monster.

“Funny you should say you’re bein selfish” Duck braces his arms on either side of the chair, “because I’ve been beatin myself thinkin’ I was selfish for keepin you out here so long.”

“Keep me here forever.” Indrid whispers. Duck smiles, closes the remaining space between them. His lips are still a bit chilly from working outside; Indrid does everything he can to warm them with his own.

The shorter orc straddles him and he whines so needily that Duck snickers in reply.

“What’s wrong darlin? Kissin too much for you?’

“On the contrary; it is far too little, but my injury means my ability to drag you to my bed and beg for more is greatly impeded.”

“Good thing we live alone.” Duck pulls the blanket from Indrid’s lap, nibbles his ear as the seer catches on and begins frantically undoing the buttons of Duck’s workshirt and shoving his suspenders. When at last he pushes it open he loses himself a moment, tipping forward to tongue at the golden ring in Duck’s left nipple.

“AHheh, gettin right to it. Good” Duck unbuttons his pants, “because I’ve been wantin to fuck you since before we even came out here.”

“Oh I see” Indrid purrs, “you lured me into the countryside to sully my virtue.”

Duck laughs, full throated, as his tusks catch in the firelight, “You forgettin the time we got drunk instead of goin to the opera and you told me you convinced two sailors to take you home?”

“Only if you’ve forgotten telling me about the young ranch-hand you gave several rides to” Indrid nibbles along his neck, his twitching oddly in their quest to grind against him without jostling his ankle.

“Not a chance. But I don’t care about reminiscin right now; right now, I got the best lookin fella in the world beggin for my dick.”

“I’m not begging.” Indrid tilts his head back to help Duck get his shirt open some.

“Not yet.” Duck grins, then shoves his hand down his trousers.

“Ohhhhhyes” Indrid reaches for him.

“Keep your hands on the armrests until I say you can move ‘em.”

“But, but” it’s hard to argue when he’s trying to stare a hole through Duck’s remaining clothes. His partner notices and makes a show of moaning louder.

“Only good boys get to watch the show. You gonna be good for me?”

“The best.”

Duck kisses the tip of his nose, then wiggles and kicks his pants and underwear off. Indrid can only watch, growing more envious by the moment, as he fucks himself open and rubs a thumb along his cock. Indrid tries bucking his hips, only to discover Duck is keeping himself out of reach.

“Cruel creature.” Indrid groans.

“Cruel? I’m giving you a seat to the best show in town.”

“I’d rather you take the best seat in town.”

Duck laughs, is still doing so when he bends to kiss him. Indrid whimpers, nails digging into the upholstery to keep his promise of good behavior. Duck notices.

“Good boy.”

“AHHHnnnthankyou, thankyouthankyouthankyou” Indrid moans as Duck drops his weight into his lap, grinding on his clothed cock with abandon. He flings Indrids hands up to his shoulders. The seer glides them up to his hair, burying them there where he’s now certain they’ve always belonged. Duck mirrors him, lips only leaving his to bite the tip of his ear.

“Fuck, Indrid, that’s it darlin, lemme ride you like the sleek little beast you are.”

He whines, loses his thoughts as Ducks hips quicken.

“I know ‘Drid, you like bein mine, like that I’ll bounce on this fuckin perfect dick as often as you want as long as you’re my good, sweet, ohsweetfuck, fuck, darlin��” Duck drops his forehead to Indrid’s shoulder with a groan as he cums, soaking the fabric of his pants. Before Indrid can think about stopping, Duck picks up again with as much force as before, growling in his ear to be a good little social climber and cum for his lord.

Indrid cums at that with a chirping sound he thought he’d stopped making long ago, legs spasming from the force of his climax. Unfortunately, this means his pleasure is chased by a burst of pain. He whimpers, flinches, and Duck spots the problem.

“Oh, oh darlin I’m sorry” He drops to the floor, rubbing Indrid’s thighs, “thought the position would keep you from hurtin.”

“Apparently not. I, I want you to know I don’t regret it in the slightest.”

Duck smiles, relieved, and rests his head on Indrid’s stomach, “Guess you did find me a match, huh?”

Indrid bends slowly, nuzzling his hair with a hum, “Yes, I believe so.”

#indruck #meet ugy #indrid cold/ duck newton #orc au #victorian au #trans duck newton

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celestianstars · 4 years

Text

Sweet Dreams

Chris Evans x Black Female!Reader

Request: Chris is sleep deprived from stress and you decide to do what you can to help him get some rest

Warnings: lots of fluff and only some mentions of smut

Word Count: 2.3k

Note: I know I said I’d try and make this one short but kinda didn’t stick to that plan lol, but it’s a quick read I promise!

——————————————————————————

“Did you get any sleep last night, Chris? You look wiped out.” you watched your boyfriend make his way around the kitchen, eyes low and sunken.

“I mean...I think I got a solid hour or two.” he sighed, running a hand through his hair and sitting down at the table next to you.

You chewed at the inside of your lip, your hand automatically reaching out to hold his.

Chris had been super busy lately in terms of work and work related things.

He had just gotten back the other day from filming another project and then 24 hours later was on another flight to D.C for a more important, political endeavor he’d been working on for a good couple years now.

It shocked you that he wasn’t out like a light the second he got home last night, he looked ready to be back in his own bed, only if you and Dodger would accompany him, however, which was made clear by the pout he gave you when he asked you to come to bed a little earlier than your usual time.

But seemingly, he hadn’t slept at all while you lay your head on his chest and fell asleep within minutes.

Chris was always good at getting you to do that, he was warm and his heart was beating calm and steady and his fingers were lightly brushing against your skin as he held you, all a recipe for you slip into a deep sleep.

It worried you a little, sleep was so important and you didn’t like seeing Chris look this tired or stressed either but you tried to persuade him and your own mind that it was probably just the fact that he’d been travelling so much lately, his body was too wired to really let him rest.

It made sense, and it was true to an extent but Chris wasn’t ready to admit that it was because he was more stressed than jet lagged.

Talking about it might bring those fears about his work to reality so for the time being, Chris tried to shove it all to the back of his mind and just focus on having a nice stretch of time off where he could finally spend some quality time with you and his best dog and go visit and catch up with family.

“Alright sleepyhead, what do you want for breakfast is the real question here.” you stand up and come over to ruffle his hair, smiling softly at the way his arms immediately come up to wrap around your waist.

“Hmm, I’ve been dying for some of those homemade waffles and eggs of yours. Tried making them myself and it was a disaster in my hotel kitchen.” Chris snorts, leaning forward to press a kiss to your ribs.

“I’m surprised you didn’t burn the place down, but you got it baby. Oh, also! I was wondering if we could drop by the beauty supply store, I need more braiding hair, I was thinking of doing smaller braids this time.”

“Sure thing! We need more dog food anyways and it’s right in the area. And braids, huh? I can’t wait, you know I love seeing you with that style.”

Chris caught you rolling your eyes at that, both of you chuckling because of the very dirty innuendo to his tone.

He liked to play with your braids and pull them in bed, gently of course cause he knows you’d kill him if one of them loosened up and unraveled. But he also really couldn’t stop himself from doing it while he fucked you good, and not that you were complaining either.

---

You were browsing the chew toy section of the pet store you were in, letting Dodger sniff around the toys. Chris was right behind you, shaking his head at how much you spoiled his dog.

“What?! He deserves another toy, ok. He was such a good boy keeping me company while you were away. Best cuddle buddy.” you shrugged at the way Chris feigned shock.

“Oh so my own dog had taken my place as best cuddle buddy huh? I thought you were supposed to be wingman, Dodge, not steal my girl.”

“I can’t with you oh my god. Nah, you’re still my number one everything, Evans.” you lean back against his chest, letting your head rest against his shoulder, turning your face to press a kiss to his bearded jaw.

“And I see that barber I told you to go to has shown this beard some love. Such a clean line up.” you wink at him and he pinches your ass.

“That’s for sure, thank you for that by the way. But it could also use some extra love with you sitting on it, is all I’m sayin.” now it was Chris’ turn to watch your jaw drop.

Yeah, it had been awhile and though neither of you were up for it last night, tonight Chris intended to show you exactly how much he’d missed you.

---

Later that day you were sitting on the couch watching a show on Netflix, Dodger at your feet while Chris drank some coffee, brows knit in concentration as he read over some papers.

“How’s the business in D.C coming along?” you noticed the usual stressed out body language and gestures from him. He kept running his hands through his hair and letting out little sighs and huffs here and there.

“So far so good I would say, we’ve got more senators on board for the project it’s just...I don’t know.” he leaned his back, arms crossed. Defensive and on edge was written all across his features.

Shifting your body so you were facing him, you squeezed his thigh and took the papers from his lap, stacking them neatly and setting them aside on the coffee table.

“Talk to me, baby. Are you worried about it all coming together? I know you’ve been taking on a lot lately, even though you’re not doing this project alone, it’s still a lot and you are the face of it, I’m sure that makes you feel some anxiety.”

He felt tense and it made you frown, you wanted to help relax him as much as you could, and now you could see this was probably what was keeping him up at night.

“Yeah you’re right, actually. I just want this thing to be good, something informative and easy to use and it scares me to think it’ll be a huge failure or it’ll be used for the wrong things. I think I’ve been thinking of about a hundred ways it could go wrong if I’m being honest and I don’t really know what to do,”

“By now people have seen me going back and forth from here to D.C and I’m nervous about..well everything.” he placed his palm over yours and squeezed your hand.

Chris appreciated that you took the time to ask and really listen to him, cause half the time all he felt like he was doing was talking about his problems and not paying enough attention to you but then you’d quiet his fears and tell him that you would make sure he knew if you felt neglected.

You understood the nature of his work and of his always good and kind intentions and how his anxiety played into all of it.

“I wouldn’t blame you, it’s a big thing you’re doing. But remember that you’re trying to do some good, trying to make understanding politics and policy a little easier and I don’t think anybody can call you a failure for that, no matter what happens. The best any of us can do is try and bring something about that will help others and baby, you do that in so many different ways. Creatively in the art of acting and also in what you believe in outside acting.”

You scoot closer and rest your forehead against the side of his head for a minute, letting your words sink in.

“You’ve put so much of your time and energy and passion into this, I think you have to trust yourself a bit more. Maybe this certain project is new to you but from what I’ve seen, you’ve thought this out so well, so detailed and thoughtful to the audience you’re trying to reach. I think, and I’m not just saying this because I clearly have a bias, that you are putting out something great here,”

“And if it fails, if things don’t go how you wanted, you know that you did your best to steer it in the right direction and sometimes it doesn’t always work but that doesn’t make you a failure. You always have the opportunity to make something amazing, and coming from your insanely intelligent brain, I know it’s endless.”

You finish off your pep talk and give him some quiet to think about what you said, smoothly sliding across to sit in his lap so you could massage his shoulders.

Chris hummed, smiling at how soft your hands felt on him.

You were such a gift.

Not only did you know exactly what to say during times like this but you also seemed to know exactly what he needed, you were so observant and it kind of amazed him how you seemed to be two steps ahead of him sometimes.

It made him want to strive to be on your level.

All he hoped for was to reciprocate the same love and affection and support you offered him and you always reassured each other that you were doing exactly that.

After a minute Chris opened his eyes and met your gaze, blue eyes soft and tired.

“I fucking love you, you know that?” his voice was low and breathy and it made you bashful.

“I know and I love you too. I just believe in you and the talent and heart you give to everything. It’s stunning to watch you work.”

You keep a steady rhythm with your hands, moving them up to massage the back of his neck.

“Thank you for everything. And in that case I wanna come clean about something. I haven’t been sleeping much more than an hour or so for a bit now, I thought it was just because of traveling and the workload but you were right, it’s from stressing over all this shit. But you’re right, I gotta trust myself more and have some hope in it.”

“Yeah I figured. And I know you’ll get there, I’m sure it’s still gonna stress you out but as long as you remember what we talked about and can call upon that when it happens. How about we have a de-stress night? We’ll take a warm shower, maybe do a face mask, and I don’t know...something else that might require another shower afterwards too.” you wink and he throws his head back in a laugh.

“Oh so that’s what this whole thing was really about, she’s trying to get in my pants, I’m just a piece of meat to her!” Chris fake cries.

“You’re sO ridiculous oh my gosh. I mean that may have been part of it but for real, I know this is gonna come together and succeed. You’ve been doing such a great job.”

Chris nods and leans forwards, his arms coming around you again, pressing you forward into his chest where his lips met yours, a searingly passionate and loving kiss melting everything else away.

Abruptly, you pulled away, squirming your way out of his grip to drop down to your knees in front of him, your head resting on his thigh while your hands tugged at his belt buckle. His eyebrows went up in question but he didn’t stop you.

“Oh so this is your idea of de-stressing?” his eyes darkened and he raised his hips up slightly to help you slide his pants down.

“Mhm, sucking your dick is therapeutic for me honestly, and I wanna make you relax.” you smirked again, letting your hands start going to work because you truly were eager to get your hands on him.

“God, you’re really something else. Not complaining though, fuck that feels good. I’ve really missed this. And as long as you know I’m gonna return the favor. I was serious about this beard needing some of your love.”

“Fine by me, baby.” you giggle, sinking your mouth down around his tip, relishing in his taste and the way he hissed and contracted underneath you.

---

After a couple hours of going at it in bed rather loudly, and a nice shower and peeling face masks off each other, you and Chris were finally settled in bed, Dodger laying at the foot of the bed.

“I am actually struggling to keep my eyes open right now, baby. It’s a miracle.”

Chris smiled lazily, pulling the covers up around your shoulders while you got comfy snuggling into him.

“See, told you I knew the trick to getting good rest. You deserve it too. I hope you have sweet dreams, meatball.” you nuzzle his neck and place a chaste kiss to his lips before settling back down.

Chris only grunted in response and you went on talking for a little bit longer, explaining how happy you were he was home and that you’d finally be able to sleep in with him for a good week.

He’d been quiet for a minute and when you glanced up to check, you found your handsome man asleep, a calm look on his face, his breathing beginning to slow.

And with another soft kiss to his chest, you lay your head against his heart and shut your eyes, happy and serene knowing you were in his arms and had gotten him to finally sleep easily again.

Sweet dreams.

---

A/N: Reading that interview Chris did where he mentioned he only slept like an hour a night recently I was like...my baby, nooo. Hopefully he’s getting some good sleep soon cause it’s what he deserves, periodt pooh!

I hope this was alright and thank you to the anon that requested this, I loved writing it and hope it wasn’t too long since I know we discussed making it shorter.

And thank you to everyone reading! I love y’all so much I truly do!

Please let me know what you think also, I’m a slut for feedback!

——————————————————————————

Tags: @themyscxiras @chaneajoyyy @wittysunflower @amirra88 @lady-olive-oil @fumbling-fanfics @designerwriterchic @dc41896 @endless00paradise @oceanscorazon @champagnesugamama @ml0103 @mimigemrose@beaminglife @jojolu @avfug @earthsmightiestasses @crushed-pink-petals @titty-teetee @lifesaverslipstick-n-melanin @kati-1997 @skinnyevilcunt @forbeautyandlife @captstefanbrandt @veryhellshdia @amelatonin @jbrizzywrites @xo-goldengirl @tgigoldie @quaint-and-curious @yaint-me @savvy-ivvory @hold-me-like-a-heart-beat @blowmymbackout @captainsamwlsn @carefreebarnes @harduy @breddiefrooks @curvynsweet @vvigilantes @est1887 @p-writes @thorohdamnson @ellixthea @lovelymari4 @littlesouthernrebelle @uhlxis @lareine-c-blog @captainfiveby5 @blackandnoir @wildfirecracker @xkandixrose @vvigilantes @eclecticblkgirl @pananegra @honey-poooh @bibicarson @ceelikedat @sheagawdess @ljstraightnochaser @savemeroman @m00nlightdelights @thottio @yaunaz @jetaimeamore @melo-yello @glitterandheatlightning @lavitabella87 @laketaj24 @hushfakeomens @valkyriesnymph @notsomellowmushroom @write-fromthe-start @theitcaramelchick @felicity-x0 @nina-skyee @islanddgal @princess-evans-addict @bluestarego @jaz-wegott @munteanhore @buffisummerz @blackvscogirl @gwenspacy @raveviolet @uranoscope @cantbribetheangel @suckthatskittlebiiitch @amberakawolfie @reaper-thighss @academic-glowup @stormsslut @star-spangled-steve @saturnsteverogers @thotgomery

#amalia writes #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans oneshot #chris evans fanfics #chris evans fics #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x woc #chris evans x poc #chris evans smut

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septicbro1005 · 4 years

Text

Paint Me How You See Me

A/N: Okay, you have no idea how excited I was to see that I had permission to write this. I literally am so happy I could scream. Will I? Not out loud. This actually made me so excited that I got up and started walking around my room and smiling holy shit. Alright. Enough of that. I was inspired to write this story by a comic made by the fantastic @venadorosas and I just am so damn excited to write this! I am not an art student myself, but I will do my best to replicate it with what I know. I hope I do the comic justice! Just a few more things before this thing starts: I'm gonna do myself and make this a Quirkless AU as well as make Yuuei a university instead of a high school. This is unedited, so if there are sentences or misspellings, that is why, and I apologize. Anyway, let's get rolling!

Kirishima's POV

One stroke after the other.

Small, swift.

One stroke makes a world of a difference.

So don't… mess… up.

I only have one canvas left after this one, but I'm saving it for something important. Something special. Just need to figure out what.

I mean, yeah, I have others on back order, and Mr. Miyoshi is usually pretty cool with giving me some, but I still need to think about what to do with the 106 cm by 106 cm canvas.

A canvas that big needs something worth being put on there.

"Psst, Kiri--" "Shhhhhhhhhhhhhut," I hissed out through clenched teeth.

"You nee--" "I said shut,"

"B--" "No. Shut. Lemme finish,"

The person who proceeded to pester me, even after I told him to be quiet, was none other than Hanta Sero.

He was an art student, along with myself and several others I know by name.

One of which was Katsuki Bakugou.

And damn, was he confusing.

He was this aloof dude who talked to maybe two people by his own volition.

Some random girl who I see him talk to ever now and again. I think we've spoken twice? All I remember is she told me to call her Tsu.

And then me.

Sure, he'd talk to the professors and people like that, but if he didn't have to speak, he wouldn't.

Yet, he spoke to me.

Not only did he barely talk to people, but he also is probably one of the best looking people on campus.

I kid you not, the first time I saw this dude, I was totally sure I'd met Adonis in human form.

His ash blond hair was styled into a fluffy undercut that I would pay money for to be able to run my hands through, even once. His gauges and helix piercings gave him a bit of an edge, but that's what made him more alluring. He came into class one day, wearing a wife beater, which put a tattoo on full display, resting on his right shoulder.

It isn't just his looks that are attractive either. The way he holds himself, presents himself, just his whole aura is indescribable, to keep it brief.

And he was the person I was painting this for.

This wasn't his first commission. Not by a long shot. And this one was fairly simple as well. Still, I poured my heart and soul into it, just like every piece.

But with his commissions, I feel the need to work that much harder. To push myself that much farther. To make it perfect, in a word.

Now, I know that perfection is impossible, but I still want to achieve it.

I mean, if Bakugou could, I could too, right?

"Kirishima, I've been talking to you for the past couple of seconds and you haven't shushed me. Don't zone out on me right now, man,"

Sero's voice managed to pull me out of this trance, but only a bit.

The ash blond with the scarlet glare was still in the back of my mind.

"What?"

"You need lunch, man," Sero said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

"Listen, I thank you for your concern, but I had a protein shake maybe six hours ago. I'm dandy," I mumbled, doing a few more soft strokes before standing up. "Plus, I'm not even hungry,"

"Dunno what kind of protein shake you're drinking, but you still need sustenance. C'mon," Sero attempted to persuade me as I walked to the sink to clean the small brush.

"I'm cool, dude. I have a granola bar or two in my bag. I'll eat when I'm hungry," I chuckled lightly, turning on the water and cleaning the brush.

Sero sighed in defeat, as this marked the second week in a row where I substituted breakfast with a protein drink and lunch with a granola bar.

"Alright, fine. Make sure you eat dinner tonight, or Mr. Miyoshi is gonna kick you out again," Sero said, beginning to walk to the door.

"I know, I know,"

"I'll be off, then,"

"Peace out, dude,"

I heard the door to the studio shut, and it was just me in here.

Just me and the paint.

"Hey, Siri,"

My phone lit up, hearing its name.

"Play Rex Orange County on Spotify,"

As I began to finish up some touches on the snow covered forests surrounding a bright red cardinal, the song Uno filled my ears.

The song had no real relevance, but I love that song so much. I dunno if its just because it sounds so simple and sweet, but I just think the song's pretty great.

I'd say after maybe forty-five minutes of doing seemingly pointless touch-ups, I stood back, admiring my work.

Not much needed to be done, but I needed this to be phenomenal.

"I'll just use a simple varnish once everything is dry, then I can move it into the back," I muttered to myself, as if someone was there and I had to be quiet. "Can I finish it today? I could tell him where it is, and wait for the money to come in, I guess,"

A few seconds pause later, and I continued.

"Wow, great job, Eijirou. You sound like a dickwad who just wants money,"

A short sigh, a granola bar and maybe a half an hour or so later, everything seemed dry.

"Let's varnish this motherfucker, and I'll text him when that's done," I mumbled, going into the cabinets, looking for the varnish.

No other assignments at the moment… okay! Cool! I can probably head back to my dorm, chill there, and text Bakugou when it's done!

When I finally found it, I got to work on the varnish.

***

"And sent," I whispered as I approached the dormitories.

I just sent Bakugou a short text, telling him where to find it, how to send me the money (although he probably knows the process by heart at this point) and all that jazz.

My dorm building was in sight when my phone buzzed once.

It was a different buzzing pattern than all the others.

"Oh, Bakugou responded this quickly?" I thought aloud.

Opening my phone, I checked the message.

Sent the ¥321.7K

My eyes widened at the number.

"I sure as hell didn't tell him to send me that much, what the hell?"

What!? The commission was only ¥48.2K?!

His response was immediate.

Left a tip.

Get yourself something nice.

"Whoa," I murmured.

Now, I knew Bakugou was on the higher end of the economic spectrum, but hot damn!

He did usually give me more money than I told him to, but that fact that he gave me that much more this time just seemed to solidify the thought of him being rich.

So manly.

Heading into my dorm building, I looked to the elevators, only to see an out of order sign on them both.

"Are you kidding me?" I whispered. "Fine, guess I'm just gonna take the damn stairs,"

I got a notification, seeing the ¥321.7K was successfully put into my account, and I knew this commission was over.

But at this point, I knew what to expect from Bakugou. Next time I see him, he's gonna ask me about another one.

Not that I mind, not one damn bit. I'm cool with any excuse to talk to him, and I'm happy to please him with my art.

I just gotta brace myself for the next time I see him.

Trudging up the stairs, I began pondering what he would want next.

He seems to really like requesting animals, mainly birds such as crows and cardinals, but will he do something different? Ooh, maybe a peacock! Or maybe he'd want some other winged creature… like maybe an insect? Or possibly he'll switch it up on me.

As I ended up on the next staircase, I heard someone else's footsteps approaching.

Looking up, my eyes were met with a familiar scarlet pair of eyes.

"Oh, hey, Bakugou!" I said with a wave.

"Hey," he replied with a simple nod.

Fuck, he was just as gorgeous as always.

A grey turtleneck hugged his torso, with a black and white pinstripe button up on over it. The shirt was tucked into a pair of black jeans, a wallet chain dangling on his right side. A pair of black converse and a dog tag finished his look, alongside my composure.

"Thanks again for the great work," he said, his husky voice hypnotizing me further.

"You haven't already picked it up, have you?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "I don't think I saw you walk past me to get to the parking lot,"

"Nah, but I know it's gonna look good," his compliment was accompanied by a smirk.

Short-lived, yes. But a smirk nonetheless.

"Aw, thanks dude! Always happy to make something for my best customer!" I felt myself beam at him.

"See you around, Red," he said, continuing down the stairs.

"Bye," I waved with a small smile on my face as he disappeared down the stairs.

I quickly hauled ass up to my floor, speed walked to my door and slammed the keys in.

Gay panic in private, dude.

Opening the door, I pulled my key out and shut the door.

"I'm back, Omi!" I shouted into the apartment to see if my roommate was here.

"Hey," my roommate responded from his bed.

"Is it cool if I hop in the shower real quick?" I asked, jerking a thumb toward the bathroom.

"Sure thing. Keep it brief," Omi said, making me roll my eyes.

"Okay, dad," I sighed, but I gave a smile to show it was all in jest.

After locking myself in the bathroom and stripping myself down to absolutely nothing, I got in the shower and had a gay crisis.

Because that's the only place you can have those, y'know?

But a good ol' Panic! In The Shower was enough to calm my nerves.

As I stepped out of the bathroom to grab clothing, I heard Omi laughing.

"What?"

"That Bakugou guy really messes you up, huh?" his laughter was thrown in between words, but I knew exactly what he was referencing.

"If I'm being too loud, just knock on the door, dude! Tell me to shut it, I don't care," I flushed, looking at the ground, my hand tightening around the towel that hung on my waist.

Omi just kept laughing at me as I grabbed my clothes; a simple crimson riot shirt, boxers, black shorts and my wave socks.

It isn't like I'm going anywhere tonight, right?

…

Is what I originally thought until I was dressed and realized I left my motherfucking cardigan at the studio.

"Ugh, fuck," I groaned, rubbing a towel on my head.

"Left your cardigan again?"

"Perhaps,"

"You might as well just wrap it around your waist," Omi suggested.

"And risk getting paint on it?" I looked at Omi like he was a motherfucking psychopath. "Hell no. The cardigan was my grandmother's, so I ain't doing shit to it,"

"Clearly, if you're leaving it in the studio again," Omi mumbled.

"Shush!" I whined, grabbing my keys and slipping on my red sneakers. "I'll be back,"

"Okay,"

Leaving my dorm, I began going down the stairs when I ran into someone.

It was Bakugou, again.

And just when I thought my gay panic was over for the day.

"Oh, hey," I said as casually as possible.

Which probably sounded forces as fuck, because it felt like my heart was just about ready to implode.

"Red," Bakugou was looking me up and down.

I don't think I've ever felt more self-conscious about my appearance in my life.

"I've got another request, if it isn't too much,"

"O-oh, okay!"

Why did I stutter?! That was so unmanly!

"So, what is it?"

I looked into his gorgeous eyes, trying to see further into him, but I was only met with his right hand slamming into the wall next to my head.

Oh shit, oh fuck. I'm gonna die. I'm gonna collapse, right here. Right now. I can't handle this.

"Uh, dude? You--" "Paint me how you see me, Kirishima,"

Uh, what?

I was stuck between saying "Got it," and "What?" so my dumbass just responded with this:

"Gweh?"

We sat there, in silence, staring at each other.

My face was flushing bright red, and I wanted to look away, but I didn't. I couldn't. His eyes just drew me in.

He moved his arm to his side, and began to head up the stairs.

Quick, say something coherent!

"O-on it!"

I swear, I saw him smile a bit before he was completely gone.

What was I doing again?

***

It's been around three weeks.

It's been three weeks of planning, sketching, and small, swift strokes.

And plenty of panic, but that's irrelevant. There was a bit of disco, so it balances out anyway.

Mr. Miyoshi did end up setting a curfew on me, to make sure I didn't pass out at the studio, but it wasn't set until it had already happened.

But, since I wanted to work on it after the curfew, I brought it to the dorm, keeping it on newspaper and buying the paint I needed.

I had the picture in my mind, which I did my best to replicate without him genuinely modelling for me.

It was a ¾ shot of his shirtless back, with him looking over his right shoulder, giving a perfect view of his side profile. I also made sure I replicated his tattoo to the best of my abilities, and I think it came out okay.

But that isn't all!

Monarch butterflies lined his back, as a fiery looking echo was placed slightly to the left.

Those warm colors contrasted like hell, compared to the blues and navy of the background.

Just to fuck around with more color, flecks of brighter colors adorned the background, giving it sort of galaxy look.

I thought it looked gorgeous.

And not just because it's Bakugou.

You know how when you make something, and you worked so damn hard on it, and when it's done, you're just filled with pride?

This is one of those works for me.

"Omi!" I yelled about before cringing.

It's 01:35.

"Yeah?"

Why the fuck does he sound like he's been awake?

"First of all, have you been awake this whole time? Second of all, could you grab me my phone?" I said a little quieter.

"It's done?" Omi asked, coming over with my phone.

"I'm happy with it," I said with a huge grin.

"Looks fantastic," Omi pat my shoulder before walking off.

Using my nose, I unlocked my phone and took a picture before putting my phone down.

I just looked at the painting, with Bakugou's slight pout catching my eyes.

I have absolutely zero clue what came over me, but I lifted my forefinger to my mouth, and pressed a small peck to it.

My forefinger rested against the painting's lips, and I just felt warm.

And that was probably the best feeling ever.

I gotta give this to him in person. It's about time I told him.

***

What floor are you on again?

Number two. Room 204.

Okay, I'm coming over.

I let out a shuddery breath, looking at the canvas, which I covered with a blanket.

I need to tell him.

It's time.

I kept opening my phone, making sure I had the song ready to play at the click of a button.

He needs to know.

A loud knock landed on my door, and I jumped.

I walked over to the door, playing the song as I opened it.

"Hey, Bakugou! Come in!"

The ash blond entered, wearing a button up and jeans again, just no turtleneck this time.

"So, I wanted to give this one to you in person… because I…" I was stumbling over my words.

Calm down, Eijirou. You got this.

"Because this could very well be the last commission you want from me,"

This made Bakugou's usual deadpan change ever so slightly. His left brow rose up as his head tilted to the side.

"And why might that be?"

"I…"

Fucking say it.

Spit it out.

"I like you," I barely got out before throwing my gaze at the ground. "I like you a lot. You're just so cool and collected, and from what I know about you, I like it. And I want to know more. I'm sorry if this makes you uncomfortable, but I just had to get that out,"

Before I even looked at him, I walked over to the painting, still looking at the ground, and pulled the blanket off.

Everything was silent, except for the music in the background. But even the song was at a quieter part than the rest of it.

I felt Bakugou's eyes on me and not the painting, which terrified me to no end.

Should I have even said anything?

"You don't have to pay if you don't want to or if you don't like it. And…" I took in a shaky breath, looking at the ground, lazily gesturing to the painting and then myself. "If you don't want to be friends anymore, if you even thought of us as friends, then you can ignore me,"

His footsteps were soft, but I knew they were coming. So when his black converse appeared in my vision, I looked off to the side as my vision blurred with tears that threatened to spill.

A finger went under my chin, turning my face to him.

His eyes met mine, and he was smiling.

"You really are oblivious, huh?"

"Gweh?"

Fucking, again?

Bakugou laughed before leaning in a bit, his head turning to the left.

"Can I kiss you as a tip?"

My whole brain has short-circuited, but I turned my head to the right and leaned in closer.

My eyes slowly closed, and when his lips met mine, I was immediately thrown into a state of euphoria.

Holy shit, this is happening.

This is actually happening!

I couldn't help the smile that bloomed on my face as I draped my arms over his shoulders, and I couldn't stop laughing either.

It was so fucking amazing.

Small blazes of tears made tracks down my cheeks, but I didn't care. Unless my nose starts running, I'm not gonna let some tears mess up this kiss.

But, all good things must come to an end, as Bakugou pulled back.

His eyes were on mine, and for once, they were soft. A small grin was pasted on his features, his hands on my face.

"Why are you crying?" he asked as his thumb rubbed at my dampened cheek.

I just felt myself giggle in response.

"Well, I was originally gonna cry because I thought you wouldn't be cool with my confession, but these tears quickly turned sweet," I just couldn't stop laughing. "Shit, I'm so happy,"

We just stood there for a few moments of content silence before Bakugou spoke up.

"So, how the hell am I supposed to bring this painting to my dorm?"

"I can help you bring it up there!" I offered.

"I get to bring two masterpieces to my dorm? Great!" Bakugou oozed confidence as he said that.

"Dear christ," I began giggling again, since that was unexpected.

We grabbed the painting, and I made sure Bakugou was careful with it, but was also holding it properly.

"Hey, Omi! Could you get the door?"

"Sure,"

"Your roommate was here?" Bakugou asked.

"Well, it's his dorm too." I pointed out as Omi got the door for me. "Plus, it isn't like I wasn't so obviously crushing on you,"

"It really wasn't," Omi said, patting my back carefully. "But congratulations to the both of you,"

"Thanks, Omi,"

Bakugou just gave a small murmur to thank Omi.

"Alright, Bakugou, you go through the door first, then we can keep walking," I said, turning us so Bakugou could walk out the door properly.

"Okay,"

After a quick minute of maneuvering, we managed to get the painting up the stairs without damaging it.

"So you're which dorm?"

"302," Bakugou said as we got to his door.

"Coolio!" I grinned.

"Dork," Bakugou snickered at me. "How d'you want this to be put down?"

"We can just rest it against the wall," I said, propping the painting up on the wall.

"Give me a quick sec," Bakugou mumbled, unlocking the door.

He swung the door open and made sure it stayed open.

"Alright,"

"At this point, I'm gonna follow you. You know where you wanna put this?" I asked him.

"Uhm… I think Misumi wouldn't mind if I placed this on his side of the room until I know exactly where to hang it," Bakugou said as we walked into the room.

***

My paintings were all on the wall. The snow surrounded cardinal, the murder of crows, all of them.

Except one.

The other paintings sort of made a frame, with a 106 cm x 106 cm square in the middle.

"Hey, honey?" I called out.

"What's up, Rourou?" Katsuki asked from the other room.

"Could you grab me the step ladder?"

"Shorty," I heard Katsuki laugh.

"I heard that, Katsu! You aren't as quiet as you think!"

"Says you, of all people!" Katsuki chuckled, coming on with the step ladder.

"Thank you, baby," I said, pecking his cheek.

"Of course. Putting up the last one?" He asked.

"Yep!" I said, grabbing the painting I made all those years back.

The monarch butterflies dotting his spine, his scarlet glare, gorgeous fluffy hair, all of it brought together, and hung up on our wall.

I got off the step ladder, and looked at the paintings. Every single one of them.

A hand snaked around my waist and pulled me in close.

"I love you so much, baby," Katsuki whispered, kissing my forehead.

"I love you too,"

His hand rubbed against my waist, but I could feel one thing that was inconsistent with the feeling of the rest of his hand.

A golden band sat on his left ring finger, practically identical to the one that sat on my left ring finger.

A/N: And that's all! Honestly, I'm very pleased with this, and think this came out well! I hope that those of you who see this like it too! I want to thank @venadorosas for allowing me to write a story based off of their comic and for making such fantastic art. If you like my writing, I'm also on Wattpad, so check me out there, if you're up for it. Same username and profile picture. I do believe that this is it! I apologize for the ending, as it feels a little odd to me, I just don't have any idea how to end it properly. I sincerely hope that I did the comic justice. Love y'all! Stay safe and healthy! - Septic

#kiribaku #bakushima #eijirou kirishima #katsuki bakugou #fluff #fanficition #seriously when i saw i could do this i was so excited #holy shit #okay #inspired by a comic #gay #college au #art student au #i also threw in references to the game a3!#because why the fuck not #septic #unedited #so it's messy and i apologize for any misspellings

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onepdumpsterfire · 4 years

Text

Summary: Usopp moves to the city after a year since his mom died in a way to feel closer to her. There he looks for a roommate and finds none other than Zoro himself. what fate has in store for them is left for a later date lol

Roommates

Usopp . Zoro

It’s been almost a year since my mom died. She’s been sick for a long time, so I knew this was coming for some time now.

Even so, knowing didn’t stop it from hurting just as much.

Since her funeral, all I’ve done is coop myself up in our house. I’d probably turn into a hermit if it weren’t for my neighbor, Kaya. She came around whenever she had the chance.

That was nice of her considering what she has been going through…

But the more she worried about me, the guiltier I felt.

I know that she can't help but take care of people. Hell, It's why she’s been studying pharmaceutics, but I also know she can do so much more with her life. She could be some big-city doctor or researching to cure cancer!

Wouldn’t that be so much cooler than being stuck in a no-name city, too small to even afford more than the one clinic it has?

In any event, that’s only one of the reasons why I’ve decided to move away for a while. I think some time out of this house would do me some good.

The city that I’m moving to isn’t all that big and a bit further than I’d like it to be, but that’s the point of moving, right?

One way or another, I chose this city because my mom fell in love with it. She used to tell me about how, when she was young, she used to travel all over! She’d seen it all. Every tourist attraction and big-name city, but there was something about this city that just took her breath away. She told me that this place managed to calm her need to be constantly moving. This is also where she got pregnant with me then later she moved back to where she was raised and had me.

As much as she loved it there, she wanted me to go out on my own and find a place that would ‘sate my most wild urges and fuel my deepest desires,’ as cheese-ly as she put it.

At first, I thought she was joking.

I thought that she only liked that place because it’s where she met dad… It’s also why I hated this city.

My father was a coward that ran away as soon as my mom got sick. Though, she never blamed him for it. I never got to as her why, though. Years later, I did ask her if I was right. That she only romanticized this place because she fell in love there. However, she told me that he was only part of the reason why she loved this city so much, and that if I didn’t believe her then I should go find the depth of this city for myself.

I debated with myself for the longest time. Whether this was the right choice, or if I was ready to set foot in the place I used to loath so much. But being here now, I feel so much smaller than I thought I was. I’m nowhere near the heart of the city, but the sheer enormity for this place makes it feel like it’s trying to swallow me whole.

Sure, back home we had a lot of open fields and the horizon was always noticeable, but here the buildings towered over everything. It felt like a tsunami that threatened impact but never collided. The horizon was replaced by millions of stars that fell from the sky and sat just out of reach so that if you got too close thy’d turn into someone else’s day. Someone’s life.

There are so many people here that It almost made it feel lonely. Being surrounded by so many lives yet being so far from them. A mirage in a desert, one could call it. It promises life, but the closer you get the more you realize you could never get close enough.

I guess I was too much of a coward to be as alone as I felt when I first stepped foot here, though, I’ll keep telling myself it’s because the apartments here are too pricey and I only managed to land a job as a gas station attendant. Nevertheless now I’m sitting on the first floor of a fully furnished two-bedroom apartment checking a roommate wanted ad I posted earlier this week.

So far there have been only two people who wanted to move around this area, but one ghosted me after a few messages and the other ended up creeping me out so much that I had to report his account! I just hope the last person that answered my ad isn’t as much of a weirdo as the previous two.

They seem to be a bit curt, but I shouldn’t get too picky. Rent for next month is gonna be due soon, and there is barely anyone who wants to live near this area as is!

I’m sure that they’re nicer in person! I shouldn’t worry. It’s just two days.

Two days.

-2 days later. Thursday 2:30 pm -

When I arrive at the coffee shop, I walk straight to the back of the line. It isn’t that long and I’ve got here thirty minutes early, so I should have time for a drink before they get here.

Should I get something for them too? No, that’d be weird, and it would probably get cold by the time they get here.

The person in front of the line leaves and we all step forward.

Shit.

Someone arrives and lines up behind me.

I didn’t ask for their name! I don’t even know if they’re a boy or a girl!

The next person leaves and we take another step forward.

Is it too late to ask? Would it be weird if I did?

Another step forward

What if they’re a girl? Would they feel uncomfortable living with a guy?

“-ir?”

I did put on the ad I was a dude though…

“-cuse me, sir?”

“Huh?” The barista’s voice brings me back to earth. “Oh, sorry!”

“It’s okay!” her chipper voice rung out, “could you repeat your order? I didn’t quite catch it.”

“O-oh, sorry. Sorry. I didn’t mean to talk out loud. I was lost in thought, I guess... haha ...” I looked up to their hanging menu, more so to look away from her than to figure out what I wanted.

After putting in my order I take a seat at the very back.

Ten minutes later my drink was ready and my anxiety was rising again.

What if they don’t come?

Five minutes later and I sent them a message to let them know I’m here.

Maybe I could’ve phrased it better?

That sounded weird…?

God, is that a typo?

five minutes later

They haven’t answered, but that’s okay! It’s only been five minutes. Can’t expect them to be by their phone 24/7 right?

I’ll play some games on my phone to distract myself. Yeah, that’ll be fine. It’s fine.

I take a big gulp from my drink

I downloaded that new game. My hopes aren’t high for it, though. I found it via a random Facebook ad. Hopefully, it’s not one of those scams that say 90% of people can’t pass level five, but it’s only ‘cus no one lasts long enough to get to level five.

Hmmm… it seems plays well. A bit of a lag but the graphics are awesome! The old-style, pixelated art and bright, neon, solid colors give it a very retro vibe. The ads between levels kind of ruin the experience, though.

Guess they gotta make money somehow, right?

I wonder if they’ll go away if I turn off my data and Wi-Fi.

I shouldn’t just in case the person I’m meeting tries to reach me.

Could be fine for a round or two, though, I’d anxiously suffer through all of it.

I shouldn’t just in-

A sudden scraping sound from the chair opposite of me jolts me from my hypnotic state. “Hey,” a green-haired man in front of me mutteres before taking the seat he pulled out.

Taking in his form as he makes himself comfortable, my mind begins to race. Green dyed hair with roots of black hair showing. Fitted, sleeveless Nike shirt and black basketball shorts paired with a white pair of sneakers.

Oh, god. What’s with the green hair? He looks super buffed. Am I about to be mugged? No, that’s stupid. He wouldn’t have sat- in a cafe, really?

I quickly glance down at my phone for the time.

Exactly 3. Is he super punctual? More than likely a fluke, but impressive nonetheless. What if he’s a perfectionist?

My thoughts continue to swarm around my head, buzzing in an insatiable mob until a humming silence washes over me. Like one of those box televisions from back in the day. Not broadcasting anything in particular, stuck on a blue screen, droning on in silence.

The sudden stillness in my thoughts came so abruptly that it almost gave me whiplash. That aside, I need to focus now and answer him.

“Hey, sorry I didn’t ask for your name-” I left my statement open so that he could fill in the blank“-Zoro”

“R-right, Zoro. My name’s Usopp,” I waved my hands like the gesticulation would somehow help my words form into a coherent sentence, “but you probably already knew that from my ad... Hah..” I gave a quick huff before pushing through my awkward inexperience with ‘interviews’. “I was thinking we could talk and get to know each other before I take you to see the apartment.”

“That’s fine by me,” Zoro relaxed further in his seat. “What do you wanna know?”

Right at home, ain’t he.

~Do you smoke? “No”

~Are you a messy person? “I don't have a lot of things other than clothes.”

Doesn't quite answer the question but ill take it.

~Do you have friends over often? “No”

~What do you do for a living? “I’m a bouncer at a bar near here.”

Explains the muscle.

~Can you pay rent on time? “Yes, actually I brought the first month’s with me. Your ad said that split cost between the both of us plus the utilities would be $487 right?” Zoro dug around his pocket before pulling out a folded wad of cash and handing it to me.

“U-uh yeah,” tentatively I reach over to take the money. “Yeah...” I doubt I can find someone else by the end of the month. Zoro’s my safest bet at getting a roommate before next rent's due. He doesn’t seem so bad, I’m sure we’ll get along just fine.

...I guess this means there’s only one more question to ask.

“Do you wanna see the apartment?”

#modernlivingau #one piece #one piece zoro #Pirate Hunter Zoro #roronoa zoro #one piece usopp #god usopp #one piece kaya

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not-close-to-straight · 5 years

Text

Just Into You (Stony)(One)

In which Tony and Steve meet cute and sort of awkward, Steve is not into guys but he’s definitely into Tony, NatBucky are the scariest murder couple in the world, and Tony is a sweetheart with big brown eyes and a ridiculously pretty mouth.

MASTERLIST HERE

Enjoy!

***********************

The restaurant was nice enough. White table cloths and polished silverware, flowers in the middle of the table and a candle for added ambiance. The music in the background was probably supposed to be romantic and on most days it probably would be, but now that Steve had been sitting alone at his table for exactly thirty seven minutes waiting on a blind date he was fairly certain wasn’t going to show up, the music was just grating and obnoxious and a perfect example of how lately everything that was supposed to be good was just turning into a colossal fuck up.

Steve hated dating. Hadn’t dated since The Incident almost a year ago that had involved a staff party and too much alcohol and ended with his date making out with one of his bosses.

Good times.

And now his friends had gotten tired of him moping around lonely, so they’d decided to set him up.

“It will be fun!” Maria had insisted. “She’s a great match for you! Bubbly and sweet and a little ditzy so she should make you laugh.”

“And by the way it’s been so long since you got laid, I’m pretty sure your virginity has grown back.” Sam had added unhelpfully. “Google something before you go, brush up on the ol’ lingo, remember which parts go where huh?”

Steve had been leery at best at being set up, but after some reassurance from Maria-- and after thumping on Sam for the virginity comment-- he had dug his trusty button up from the back of the closet and made sure there was no paint beneath his fingers nails and showed up an appropriate fifteen minutes before designated date time to wait.

And here he was. Still....waiting....

Seven minutes later Steve leaned over to blow the candle out, already texting Maria that the date had been a bust and this was the last time he was ever letting her set him up and--

“Hey, you aren’t leaving aren’t you?” Just as Steve was getting up, a guy sat down in the seat opposite and Steve froze mid motion. “You wouldn’t mind hanging out another few minutes?”

“I--- guess not?” Steve sat back down, frowning at the stranger. “Can I ask why?”

“I lied to my ex and told him I had plans tonight.” The guy smiled sheepishly. “And my plans were having dinner by myself but he just walked in the door and now I don’t want to look like I’m alone. Can I sit here?”

“...sure?”

“I appreciate it.” the guy pulled a lighter from his pocket and re-lit the candle. “Candles help with the romance right? Looks legit. I’m Tony, by the way. Tony Stark. You got a name or should I call you Big Blond and Beautiful?”

Steve laughed because he didn’t know what else to do and his evening was pretty much ruined already so why not let a perfect stranger sit at his table? “My name’s Steve.”

“Steve.” Tony snapped his fingers at a waiter and pointed to the empty bread bowl. “Smile and laugh like I’m the most charming person in the world and I’ll buy you dinner, alright?”

“Smile and--”

“Right now.” Tony hissed, his eyes darting towards another blonde man who was looking their way. “Laugh right now.”

“Right--”

“Right now!”

Steve threw back his head and did his best fake laugh, the one he did at board meetings when Professor Coulson made terrible puns about budget cuts at the college, all squinty eyes and lots of teeth and a hand over his heart as if he just couldn’t handle the hilarity of the moment.

Tony was mid drink of water and cracked up at the sheer cheesiness of Steve’s laugh, coughing water out into his hands and probably out of his nose and grabbing at napkins to try and muffle it.

“That was the worst--” he mopped the water off the table. “--the worst fake laugh I have ever heard in my entire life.”

“Okay in my defense.” Steve was laughing for real now. “In my defense, I can’t just throw out normal laughs at a moment’s notice. No one can do that!”

“Try me.” Tony challenged, his dark eyes sparking playfully. “Tell me something awful, I’ll give you the best fake laugh of your life.”

“Tony--”

“No no no, come on. Do it.” Tony insisted. “You gotta sit here with me, you might as well have some fun. Come on.”

“Alright alright.” Steve pulled out his phone and scrolled through his messages trying to find one of the unbelievably awful jokes Sam always sent him. “Okay, here we go. What disease do you get when you decorate for Christmas?”

“Tell me. Go on. Hit me with your best shot.”

Steve waited a beat, and in his most boring ‘Professor Rogers’ voice, deadpanned, “Tinselitus.”

Tony burst into laughter, his mouth falling open in delight and eyes crinkling at the corners, rocking back in his chair and throwing his hands in the air before running one through his perfectly styled hair and reaching for his glass with the other. He took an apparently calming sip and then chuckled a few more times. “Steve, you are so funny. Oh my gosh.”

“Oh my gosh.” Steve’s jaw almost hit the table. “How did you do that? That was ridiculously good.”

“Never underestimate the importance of a good press laugh.” Tony winked, and when more bread finally appeared at the table, he dug right into the basket, telling the waiter, “Hey, I was at table twenty six, but now I’m here. Can you just move my food this way and maybe double it for my new friend? Thank you.”

“You don’t have to buy me dinner.” Steve reached for a bread stick too. “I don’t have much of an appetite and--”

“It’s lobster and filet mignon.” Tony interrupted. “And I told you I’d buy you dinner so don’t bother saying no. My feelings will be very hurt if you turn down lobster and steak.”

“No really it’s--”

“Very hurt.” Tony said louder and Steve put his hands up in surrender. “And you’re actually really helping me out right now? Dinner is the least I can do and the least you can do is offer me some stimulating conversation about yourself or another flash of those pearly whites because I wasn’t kidding when I said you were hot.”

“Fine.” It wasn’t all that hard to smile back when Tony was practically beaming. “So, my name is Steve Rogers and I am a professor of art history at the University. I’m thirty two and this was supposed to be a blind date but I’m pretty sure I got stood up which is why I was so conveniently--”

“So conveniently.”

“--so conveniently eating alone when you decided to show up and test my fake laughter skills.”

“Blind date, huh?” Tony dragged the bread through an alarming amount of butter and crammed it in his mouth. “So. Do you think they actually stood you up, or that they came in, saw what you looked like, and walked back out?”

It was Steve’s turn to choke on his water and as it turned out, Tony’s real laugh was somehow even better than his fake laugh, and suddenly Steve didn’t feel like his evening had been a bust after all.

*********************

Somehow conversation over fake laughs and the fate of blind dates turned into questions about Steve’s career and genuine conversation about his passion for art and Tony casually mentioning he was ‘into robots’ before admitting that yes, he did most of the designing for one of the biggest tech companies on the East Coast and oh did he mention he was sort of a genius?

They were sort of arguing over whether computer animation was in any way the same art form as traditional hand drawn animation when the waiter came by and politely cleared his throat to remind them that the restaurant had in fact closed half an hour previously.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” Steve’s face turned red because he couldn’t believe they’d talked for almost three hours and Tony pulled a wad of bills out of his wallet and shoved several more than necessary at the check as an apology and they hustled out the door as fast as they could.

“So um--” Steve motioned towards the only car left in the front parking lot. “That’s me. You got a ride?”

“I tend to taxi places so I can get unashamedly drunk and not have to worry about driving home.” Tony said cheerfully, pulling out his phone for the umpteenth time that night and shooting off a quick text. “Sorry about all the phone usage by the way, I have friends who were slightly concerned about me being in the same building as my ex and I’ve had to convince them several times that you weren’t in fact going to kidnap me and kill me somewhere.”

He squinted up at Steve. “You’re not going to kidnap me in that ugly grey jalopy and kill me somewhere, are you?”

“Oh my--oh my god!” Steve sputtered, taking several steps away and shaking his head adamantly. “No! Tony! What the hell? I would never-- I would not-- I am not that kind of guy. Nuh-uh. No way. You are absolutely safe with me. I’m a good guy!”

“Easy, gorgeous.” Tony winked at him. “I was kidding. But your impersonation of a definitely not guilty person who is no way sketchy was very good. Spot on.”

“Sheesh.” Steve breathed out a little anxiously. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to over react. I’m not used to people joking about that sort of thing.”

“Huh.” Tony put his hands in his pockets and grinned up at Steve. “You should meet Bucky and Natasha, that would change real quick. Besides, you’re ‘I’m not a creeper’ speech was more convincing than your fake laugh, so consider that a win.”

“Right, a win.” Steve felt like his smile was goofy but he didn’t really care. “So. Can I offer you a ride home, or--?”

“Most nights I’d be all about midnight car rides with hot blondes, but I already got a cab coming.” Right on cue, a sleek black car that Steve recognized from one of the higher end livery services turned the corner and made its way across the parking lot towards them. “So it looks like I’m good to go.”

“Okay well.” More bummed than he wanted to admit about the night ending, Steve dug his keys out and unlocked his doors. “Thanks for an interesting night? Certainly not how I expected it to go. This was definitely better.”

“We should get dinner some time.” Tony said all in a rush as the car pulled to a stop in front of them. “Like tomorrow. We should get dinner tomorrow. Or coffee. You art types drink coffee, right?”

“Um, yeah I drink coffee, but um--” Face flaming, Steve cleared his throat. “And don’t get me wrong, I’m flattered but um-- I’m not-- I’m not into guys. My date tonight was supposed to be a girl. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not-- that’s not really my thing.

Tony blinked at him and Steve added awkwardly, “I had a good time tonight. i really did. Don’t remember the last time I talked to anyone for that long. But I’m not into guys. Sorry.”

“Okay, you’re not into guys.” Tony shrugged. “So do you want to get some coffee or something sometime? Just as friends, I promise I won’t jump your bones.”

“Um--” Steve hesitated but Tony was laughing again and for a reason Steve didn’t quite understand and wasn’t willing to look too far into-- . “Yeah. Hell yeah. Coffee would be fun.”

“Great.” Tony flashed him a smile that had no business making Steve’s heart beat that fast and pulled out the receipt from dinner to scribble down his number. “Call me. We’ll figure it out.”

“Great.” Steve stared at the number for a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Nighty-night.” Tony blew him a kiss and slid into the car and they were gone a minute later.

From Steve: Okay, so the evening wasn’t terrible.

From Maria: I knew you would like her! Wasn’t she great? Whoo hoo first date in over a year. Hallelujah.

From Steve: Oh no, she didn’t show up. Stood me up in fact.

From Maria: Oh no. Steve, I’m so sorry. I’ll put salt in her coffee or something on Monday.

From Maria: Wait, if she stood you up why wasn’t your evening terrible?

From Steve: I...met someone.

From Steve: Someone pretty great.

From Steve: I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I can’t wait to see them again.

From Maria: WHAT? I’VE BEEN TRYING TO SET YOU UP FOR AGES AND YOU HOOK UP WITH SOMEONE RANDOM AND UNDO ALL MY HARD WORK

From Maria: Actually, I’m just glad you’re getting some attention because you have been unbearably cranky lately. Get some, Steve.

From Steve:...thanks?

******************

SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE FIC! (or ask to be tagged!)

*******************

@bethy-sue @thesmollestgay @babypinkbunny @lilwitchybee @kloudbby @shipeveryonetogether @shadowrayven @hausoffro @plutoisstillsalty @thereaderandwriterwithin @thecat-theparrot-theonion @zerokrox-blog @zuretha-metal @hurricanesass @tstilcr @ulnusilmukka @kahowl-knight @oswolfpack @larissaloki @stuckony-stank @blackhearted @iona-laia @itsallyd @youarenewformetoo @megahuffledor @starks-avengers @tabziecat @stitchinaride @ceealaina @cwar1864 @trinidaddee @emogoddess24 @my-drowning-in-time @pidgist @yukina64 @words-aremy-weapons @psychobitchgonepsycho @little-big-mac2 @multishippinglife @susana0 @paranormalmoonlight5 @lullilt @girlnic @vgurl18 @weepingjudgestudentpalace

#ncts fics #stony #steve rogers #tony stark

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eerythingisshaka · 4 years

Text

Will the Bell Ring? Pt. 6

[Erik Killmonger x Black!OC]

Word Count: 6.7K

A/N: I am now inspired to write again because a tweet said that Disney+ had hella issues on the date it dropped and 10 million people still stuck around to watch it. I’m taking that same energy with me.

“Mara, I won’t ask you again.” Erik says sternly. Kimara looks around casually, glad that they are at least located in a public place...though he still doesn’t seem to care.

“MARA!” Erik barks.

“Don’t cause a scene! Damn, you have absolutely no common sense!” She hisses as an elderly white couple looks away and walks faster down the path. A breeze starts to pick up in the air, causing the treetops to dance in the distance.

“Really? All I got is common sense when I hear you tryna pull a fast one on me. And to bring someone I respect in on this, that’s fuckin low!”

Kimara adjusts her seating on the bench as the metal digs into you thigh meat. “Respect?? Oh please, you were just knocking him on some petty shit last week! And I didn’t mean to! Ok? I’m sorry!”

“For what? I need specifics, lay out the entire situation for all the other nosy white folks walkin round the park today. They wanna see someone act a fool, I’ll give it to them if you keep pussy footin around.” Erik leans back on the bench, spreading his chest wide with pride as he stares her down. She can’t stand him.

Kimara lets out a sigh, laying one hand on his inner thigh for extra focus. “I am sorry...for putting you through so much pain and agony. I know how much the relationship means to and I shouldn’t have put it in danger by getting myself involved without talking to you first. And even then, I should’ve known better. I couldn’t even enjoy it without thinking about you and what you would think. So...never again. I promise.”

Erik scratches his chin, bouncing his leg before dipping his head down to look at Kimara over his fake gold rimmed eyeglasses with matronly contempt. “Long as you learnt never to watch Euphoria without me, we good.”

Kimara squeezes his leg, letting out a huge sigh of relief. “Thank God. You really bout to cut me over Fez and Rue huh?”

Erik sits up, clapping his hands together. “They are the true OTP if I ever seen one. They ain’t even gotta be intimate or whatever, just the fact that someone been through her journey and is now doing everything to help clean her up while the forces of small white town bullshit enable her is...poetry dawg.” Erik leans back shaking his head in awe.

“Babe, you are sappier than a maple tree in the summertime.” Kimara shakes her head, the loveliness of their conversation filling her head like a delicious fog she didn’t want to ever see the end of, but Erik’s lunch break was almost up.

Erik kisses her softly, making Kimara wipe the transfer of her gloss off his lips.

“Uh uh! Don’t worry bout all that baby. If that shit makes your lips as good as I like, I could use some too.”

“You so stupid!” Kimara cackles as they both get off their bench and walk side by side: his hand on her hip, her arms locked around his waist with one ear to his chest.

“This was nice.” Erik says distantly, more to himself than to her.

Kimara cranes her face toward his. “Yeah?”

He nods. “Yeah, just to not think about any of the bullshit we’ve had to deal with, enjoy God’s creations out here in the gentrified park. I feel like a damn retiree with stock and bonds and 401K real fat.”

Kimara settles in step with him again. “But you have all those things…”

“But I ain’t retired! White America don’t want a nigga to retire. Swear everything would go belly up if Black folks could live off of the fruits meant for them. They’d burn the whole damn thing down before that would happen.”

Kimara rubs his back to settle him. “Peaceful thoughts, remember?”

Erik’s chest expands and caves. “Aight. But real life is literally around the corner, so as much as I would like to have you in my office, I got shit to take care of.” Erik takes her chin and lifts her face up to his. “My Mara, My Mara…”

“...I’ll never be farther.” Kimara says with only slight embarrassment beause their little saying is so damn cute. Erik used to do cute rhymes with her name around the quad whenever she got down on herself or he thought he had her on the ropes to giving in to him. Rarely worked, but constantly appreciated. “I gotta go get some extra stuff for our dinner party later this week, so hopefully I won’t be too long at the studio. We got a new artist laying down a demo that should be pretty fire.”

Erik puts a fist to his mouth excitedly. “Oh worm? Finally my lady finna be the new M-M-M-Maybach Music!”

Kimara rolls her eyes. “I’ll be more than that! I got about two songs on there I’m getting writing credit for. I may wind up on the radio and you don’t even know it. But you’ll know them checks!”

Erik couldn’t smile harder if he had hooks in his mouth. “Your passion got you going off! Nothing wrong with it either, you deserve it. It’s been a long time coming.”

“It has. So, go on so I can make this deal happen.”

They locked fingers until distance forced them to break their grip. Erik waves off Kimara as she saunters up the path to the main road. His chest swelled with pride over his lady, she’s always been one of a kind. Her happiness is his happiness, without question. As he walked away, across the exquisitely decorated post modern/art deco lobby, to the elevator to the 33rd floor to his office, a cloud of dread weighed back on him that only got better with the help of Alaina. If she wasn’t his partner on this revamp project with Boeing, he’d be shitting himself on a regular.

Erik walks by a conference room, stopping short of turning the corner of the glass walls. He opens the door and peeks inside to see his friend hunched over a laptop, jumping slightly in her seat as he came across the room towards her.

“Damn, Erik! Why do your big ass feet step so lightly? Almost gave me a heart attack!” She breathed out a ragged sigh of relief.

Erik pulls out a chair to sit down, chuckling at her expense. “My bad, I just had to come in when I seen you slaving away in here. Figured you could use a distraction.”

Alaina smooths her hair back in her bun, her nude colored mouth in a tight, closed smile.

“I WISH you were a distraction for me, but unfortunately this involves the both of us. While you were on break, Asshole and Son recommend we draft a final proposal for the FAA to approve.”

Erik sat shocked. “What? Fuck, I mean that’s fucking crazy but kind of exciting too, right?”

She wags her finger. “Don’t forget we are only the field niggas round here. It sounds like an honor but in the end I am sure little Leave it to Beaver will be taking all the credit his daddy can send his way in order to keep the big wigs in good graces within the family.”

Erik taps his fingers on the deep wooden table, thinking. Would they really double cross him that far? Bringing him in on a project to mentor the bosses son only to pull the rug up under him and make him look like player two?

“That’s so damn white, sounds right.” Erik sighs in somewhat disbelief.

Alaina shrugs. “Told you. And until I hear it from him otherwise, that’s what I’m going to assume.” Alaina sighs and stretches her shoulders before going back in on the keyboard.

Erik furrows his brow. “If that’s it, then why are you still working on it? Don’t you wanna pack up and move on? You were brought here special for this, your time is wasted the most.”

Alaina’s eyes cast a ‘nigga please’ gaze on Erik. “Mr. Future Baby Fava, I think our time has been equally wasted. But guess what isn’t cut for my time here? My pay: which is double what I make at my primary while I’m here so…” She slowly leans over to grab Erik’s wrist. “...until I hear the fat white man sing, we’re gonna work on this project for as long as we can to milk that cow til it lays a golden goose egg and rolls the tortoise to the finish line!”

Erik scoffs. Alaina’s antics are half the reason Erik can’t quite distance himself from her. She has a liveliness that he’s kind of missed lately. “Man, you a trip and a fifth. But I like your style. Might as well get it done then.”

“Oh fuck that, I’m done for the day.” Alaina crisply closes her laptop, packin it under her arm and grabbing her case with the other.

“Whatchu mean? I thought you said-”

“I worked through my lunch, like a boss ass bitch does. You gotta work yours off, so Imma leave you to it. Call me if you bleeding out your ears from stress: no less than that.”

Erik rolls his eyes as he gets up and watches her walk away. The woman is working his last good nerve on purpose, but he likes it. The job isn’t as boring or predictable with her around. Now he just has to show her who the superstar has been all this time. If he works hard at this, it won’t be for these fat cats, it’s gonna be a bonafide competition and he ain’t scared to fight a girl.

—

At the studio, Kimara finishes up a session with a local up and coming artist named Delilah. Sweet girl, comes across very introverted until a mic is in front of her. Kimara appreciated her vibes and talent, baby girl is on trend so long as she stays cute she is bound to be noticed. Kimara ends their session a little early, wishing her well when it was time to wrap.

Kimara felt like the studio was her second home most of the time but today she had to get to her real home REAL quick to get dinner prepared. Tonight is the double dinner date with T’Challa and his boo of the moment. She kept trying to get ahold of Erik for help with ingredients but he kept leaving her on read.

Rick, the studio owner caught Kimara before she was able to get out the door.

“Hey Rick I know I cut things early, but I don’t have a lot of time unfortunately. I have dinner to take care of tonight with some friends that is so damn important, you wouldn’t believe.”

Rick smiles a large proud papa smile. “Oh I won’t keep you, but this news might. Remember Peter Gafflin? Legendary alternative rock/country artist extraordinaire who really love you last time y’all were in the booth together.”

Kimara couldn’t forget that man from their last session. She hadn’t been exalted for her talent that highly since Petey Pablo came in that one time and promised her name would be on a Freek A Leek remix.

“Yeah, what about him?” She asks.

Rick could not help his smile to save his life. “He called me up earlier today, saying he is planning to go on the road soon.”

“Yeah, yeah. That happens often when you drop a new album.” Kimara says impatiently.

“Right. So he was thinking that you would hopefully be available to join him for some shows on his North American leg of the tour.”

Kimara stood there like the Men In Black just wiped her memory. “Are-are you serious? When? How? What would I do??”

“He wants you to SING for him like you did that day, background vocals and he thought a duet portion would be nice too. You know the song ‘Boys Aren’t Born on Tuesdays?’”

Kimara clutches her chest. “Oh my God, that song is so rich. And he wants ME to sing it with him?”

“Uh huh!’ Rick slaps her arm in congratulations, but Kimara could barely feel anymore.

“In front of thousands. Across America...oh my God!”

Rick and Kimara hug excitedly, so much so that Rick has to wipe his eyes a little. “So is that a yes?”

Kimara stopped cheering to finally think a little. “I mean, I don’t know. If this was any other time I would say yes, but...I have some obligation here. I’m deep into trying to start a family and settle a little.”

Rick makes a face of pity. “I understand, I know. And I hope you do get that. Just…”

“Just…” Kimara parrots.

“...it’s Peter Gafflin.”

“It is Peter Gafflin.” Kimara says disheartened. She had been waiting for years to get something off the ground with a top tier artist, but the universe had a funny way of timing.

“Did I mention how much pay is?” Rick muses.

Kimara fans herself with a newspaper as she watches the rolls baking in the oven. She is so thankful to have gotten dessert from the bakery, because she was over it with cooking. She checks her phone for the time: ten minutes til 7. Her notifications show nothing from Erik yet, though she texted him twice today reminding his to not forget them hosting T’Challa and his girl. Twice, Erik texted that he’s got her, but that was five hours ago, now who knows what the hell he is up to. It would be perfect to bring up her good news with him in front of T’Challa and his date, while he smiles up at her with a hand inconspicuous and possessively on her behind...

But the light and fluffy feelings for the evening were quickly dwindling. Before she could send a last threatening text to convince him to bring his ass, the doorbell sounds at the last sentence. Kimara curses out loud, grabbing her oven mitt to take out the rolls that are a perfect golden brown. She dabs her brow with a spare dinner napkin before clopping her way to the door.

Opening it with a flourish, Kimara opens her arms in excitement.

“You made it!” She says with a cheery song.

T’Challa looks at her fondly, his mouth slowly curling into a smile. Kimara warms up to seeing her friend at her doorway.

“I was going to say it has been too long, but time moves backward for you. You look beautiful.”

Kimara places a hand on her hip for emphasis, trying to withhold her joy in his compliment in the worst way. “Oh please, it hasn’t been that long. You cleaned up good too.”

Kimara always enjoyed the way T’Challa dresses like royalty without even meaning too, choosing pieces that elongate his lean body, squaring his wide shoulders to create a proud presence.

T’Challa places a hand to his date’s lower back. “Iman has been looking forward to this night all week.”

A smiling Iman holds out a bottle of Proseco. “T has told me so much about you and your husband. You all seem to be a pretty tight family.”

Kimara takes the chilled bottle and leads them inside. “Oh yes. We have all known each other for so long, I can’t imagine not having known them.”

Placing the bottle on the table, Kimara claps her hands anxiously. “So I have prepared us a nice little salad and a pork...uh...pasta ” Kimara’s mind goes blank trying to remember what it’s called, she had only Googled the recipe that day. Tapping her foot, fidgeting, Kimara gives up. “Hell, some type of pork and spaghetti with peppers and shit. It’s got cheese too, it’s good. LEGGO!”

T’Challa and Iman chuckle as they head to the dining room. “Well whatever it is it smells great! I know your man must be fat and happy living with you.” Iman gushes, pulling out her chair to sit at the table.

Kimara shakes her head humbly as the unwraps the foil on the proseco. “Lucky for me, he is pretty active at the same time so it sticks in the right places. If only he could actually BE in the right places when we schedule things that way. Oh shit, lemme find a cork opener.”

Kimara rushes into the kitchen slamming drawer after drawer looking for the elusive corkscrew. She slams the bottle down a little too hard in frustration and hears the vibration of her phone on the counter next to her.

“Do you need assistance, Kimara?” T’Challa’s steady, gentle voice says behind her. She turns to see his concerned face looking down at her, hands firmly planted behind him respectfully.

Kimara waves her hand in frustration. “Aht aht! It’s fine, don’t leave Iman alone in there!”

“She is fine. Are you?” He asks quietly while opening a cabinet above the sink.

Kimara opens her phone to look at her notification. “Been better. Rather not talk while I’m supposed to be entertaining you guys.”

“But-”

Kimara puts her phone down hard. “RAGU! It was a pork ragu! With basil fettuccine, ugh! DUH!” Kimara turns to see T’Challa holding the corkscrew in his hand.

T’Challa continues, ignoring her topic change. “You should let me know if he isn’t being good to you.”

Kimara takes the corkscrew in one hand, bottle in the other trying to maintain her blood from boiling. “No I don’t. I would discuss that with my husband.”

“And he is where?” T’Challa asks calmly as Kimara walks past him and back to the table.

“God, what a help your beau is, we can finally have a much needed sip sip, eh?” Kimara exclaims a little too happily, sitting at the table as she drills the corkscrew in.

T’Challa opens the glass serving dish to examine dinner. “This smells very good, I will fix a plate for you, Iman.”

“No! I should serve you, Mr. King! Move your hand from that spoon.” Iman gets up, swinging her hips happily from side to side, digging the serving spoon into the delicious mix of sauce, noodles, and meat.

T’Challa gives a shy smile. “I appreciate it greatly, thank you.”

Kimara jerks the corkscrew out of the bottle too hard, knocking the handle against the table, causing T’Challa and Iman to look at her with shock.

“Pop goes the weasel, right?” Kimara giggles as she pours a third of the bottle into her glass, half an inch from the brim. She takes ahold of her glass, taking a few hearty gulps.

“So! Tell me how are things with you all, still in the honeymoon phase?”

Iman finishes off her plate, settling in to eat. “Well, I wouldn’t say that. Me and T are still kinda getting to know each other still, so I think honeymoon phase is a little too soon to call,” she says as she nervously scratches the back of her head as T’Challa just keeps on eating.

Kimara starts to feel warm, keeping mental note that the fucking must’ve halted between them. “Well there’s no need to rush at all. Relationships are so much damn work, it must be nice to cuddle up to a stranger every so often.”

Iman offers some wine to T’Challa who declines. “Have things been going well at the studio? Recording?”

“Oh yeah, more than recording actually. Sure, I just wish that I had the gumption to pull the trigger on doing some of my own shit. I got a lot of praise from artist and even the owner of the studio; I’ve known him a long time. But when it all comes down to it I just wonder what’s the point. That’s all gonna change soon though, no worries about me!”

Iman pouts with sympathy. “What do you mean?! You are a damn good looking lady and to have talent enough that people brag about, you gotta do something with it while you’re young and able!”

“I know I’m young and able. Well, I’m trying to start a family while I’m still young and able too.” Kimara mumbles, slumping in her chair.

“Oh! You are? Congratulations! From what little I remember from the night I met T, he seemed like a handsome guy with a good head on him. If he hadn’t brought us home, we may not be seeing each other now.” Iman’s hand disappear under the table to presumably T’Challa’s thigh, who looks over at her with kind eyes. “And that reminds me of your story. So T here got you and your husband together. What are the details on that?”

Kimara is two sips from the bottom of her glass. “Ohhh, that’s not dinner conversation unfortunately.”

Iman makes eyes at her. “Oooh, that scandalous huh? We all adults here, but I understand. Me and T weren’t very biblical our first night meeting so, hey.”

T’Challa wags a finger. “It’s not that, don’t be crass.”

Iman tuts at him. “I’m just being friendly, what’s the issue.”

“It’s a personal story. It should wait until Erik is here at least.” T’Challa offers.

Kimara puts her glass down, plate still empty or any dinner. “I don’t wanna bring that nigga up here anymore tonight, aight?”

Iman freezes mid bite as T’Challa sits up in his chair. “Kimara, please-”

“Uh uh! I’m in my house, I say what I want, I won’t be talked down to. Iman?”

Iman is still frozen.

T’Challa speaks up. “I’m just saying-”

“I’m talking! Iman? My husband and I have been trying to have a baby for months now, fucking like rabbits and I have yet to get pregnant. It’s gotten so I think he;s getting tired of fucking with me and now he is out ‘working late’. Now, he loves me because we have been through a lot to get to the point of being a married couple and he has had to prove himself loyal to me after...a lot of bullshit. But I ain’t got it in me to discuss play the Newlywed Game with you cuz hell if I know what my husband is up to anymore.”

T’Challa gets up from his chair abruptly, scraping the chair across the floor, stomping towards the kitchen.

Kimara starts to laugh out loud. “Oh shit, I think he’s pissed! Ohh, let me see what this is about…”

Iman sits up anxiously. “Do you need help?”

“No, no! I got him, he’s very reserved with his frustrations, so I can deal.” Kimara stomps into the kitchen. “Now what is up with you??”

T’Challa takes a towel off of a rack, folding it twice. “Did you need to unload on her like that?”

Kimara leans on the counter. “Sure, woman to woman. She seems to appreciate it.”

T’Challa opens the oven door, a plume of smoke billows out.

“Fuck! Oh noooo, my rolls!” Kimara exclaims, running to a window to open and fan out the smoke.

T’Challa puts the baking sheet to the sink. “I was trying to tell you I smell smoke.” He tossed the towel down making the sheet clang.

Kimara fans her face, coughing. “Oh, shit. I just forgot.”

“Mhm. You forgot your head this evening that’s certain.”

“What do you mean by that, T??” Kimara asks mockingly.

T’Challa glares at her. “If things weren’t going good, we could’ve rescheduled.”

“It’s funny you think I plan for my life to fall apart, cuz that is how it works right?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“No, no one means to hurt my feelings or make me feel like shit until it happens. You want me to be the perfect host. Erik wants me to be a good wife and mother when I can’t even get a bun in the ov-” Kimara stops short of the sentence. T’Challa hangs onto silence waiting for her to finish.

“T’Challa, what if this is all a sign? I burnt the rolls in the oven...because I can’t keep a bun in the oven? Like pregnancy? I can’t bake anything!!” Kimara wails as she covers her mouth crying. T’Challa goes over to her but stops short as Iman enters the kitchen.

“Hey, if everything is under control, I might head out.”

T’Challa looks back at Kimara then Iman. “Well, let me call you a ride.”

“Already did. Kimara, dinner really was good, I’m sorry to leave so soon.”

Kimara has her back turned, wiping her face before facing her. “Thank you for coming. You’re as nice as I heard.”

“I will walk you out then.” T’Challa offers as they leave Kimara in the kitchen. Her phone begins to ring, as she picks it up to find Erik’s name glowing on the screen. All she can do is silence it, she was in no mood to talk, otherwise she might have to make a Lemonade album about it.

Kimara goes back to her dining room table, sitting down to the bottle of wine. T’Challa comes back in, closing the front door behind him.

“Eh, eh. Put that down. Eat something instead.”

Kimara groans as she swallows one more gulp from the bottle before getting it snatched from her hand.

“I’m not feeling your vibes T’Challa, honest.”

“Vibes? Do you hear yourself talking?”

“Yeah I do. That’s all I ever hear is my damn self.”

“You are not supposed to be drinking while planning a family, aren’t you?” T’Challa asks softly, sitting next to her.

Kimara sighs deeply. “I’ve done everything right. All I’m supposed to do is carry, I can’t even get there. God, I would kill for even a miscarriage, just to know that I didn’t completely fuck up my reproductive system!”

“STOP IT!” T’Challa’s voice booms between them, reverberating off the walls. Kimara sits upright, looking away from T’Challa’s face. His energy calms as he leans a little further towards her.

“You do not deserve to beat yourself up like this. Do you realize how far you’ve come in life from when I first met you to now? There is no one as smart or witty or brilliant as you that I can also put faith in as a friend.”

Kimara fidgets with her fingers. “Good thing Iman isn’t here to hear that.”

T’Challa sits back, taking a swallow of wine from the bottle himself. “I won’t edit my statement, but she is a nice girl.”

“I still like Nakia better.” Kimara says matter of factly.

T’Challa bristles at the name, looking into the distance. “Yes, I guess she is my kryptonite, however too flighty.”

They sit in silence for a beat.

“What about that night? What did it mean?” Kimara asks.

T’Challa’s brow furrows. “Which do you…”

“A few weeks ago? My car?” Kimara rubs her face roughly. “Ughh, I hope it’s not the wine talking but I swear there was a moment that felt like...a thing. Am I wrong?”

T’Challa does something he does not always do: he begins to stutter. It’s slow, without the skip, but a stutter nonetheless.

“I...Well...hmm,” He says before his mouth motions wordlessly.

“...T?” Kimara asks teasingly. “It’s ok!”

He looks her in her eyes intensely, like she just cursed him out. “Huh?”

Kimara shrugs. “We didn’t do anything so it’s ok. Don’t sweat. That’s why I’m glad we are friends cuz I know nothing bad happens when you’re around. No craziness, drama, you just bring me back down to earth with a good talk. It was just a moment. Gotta remember that.” Kimara pats his knee and gets up.

“Wait, so were you thinking of me in a way that night?”

Kimara sees a light flash across the curtains of her window. “Well, look at this. Daddy’s home.” Kimara comes back to the table to pick up plates. “T’Challa go ahead and have a good night. You don’t wanna be here when I’m throwing dishes into the sink until Erik comes in and has the nerve to ask what the fuck is wrong with me. When the whole nigga nerve of it all is that he would have the gall to think I’m wrong to begin with!”

T’Challa waves his hands heading for the door. “I am already gone.”

The early morning sun is extra bright as erik drives himself and Kimara to see their regular fertility specialist Dr. Tracy.

“I’m glad she was able to see us today.” Erik says.

“Are you?” Kimara asks while scrolling through her phone.

Erik scratches himself. “Ion know, I just…”

“What?”

“I mean...if we do this it’s like cool, we finna get a baby off top-”

Kimara tuts at him. “No! She said that it still isn’t guaranteed. We are good candidates but not to expect success right away.”

Erik lets out a groan. “Right, right. Can’t no shit come easy for me.”

Kimara looks at his profile as he drives, catching Erik looking out the corner of his eye. “What you lookin at me like that for?”

Kimara crosses her arms. “I’m just trying to figure out what to title your sob story in all of this. ‘I do what I want and when it don’t go like I plan I pout?’ Or ‘Fuck everything and everyone, I’m going through it but don’t ask me what’s wrong?’”

“Damn Mara! The fuck you gotta go there for? The minute I try and share something with you, you bite my fucking head off!”

“Watch yourself cursing at me! I ain’t in the mood for it, and I ain’t letting it fly like that today, ok? I don’t need this much excitement before an appointment.”

“Then don’t go nuts on me like you some damn comedian, roasting my ass. I’m here ain’t I?”

“Do you not wanna be?!” Kimara shrieks.

Erik goes silent, turning on the click of his turn signal. The tension in the car is sky high and although Erik doesn’t mind a fight, he knew not to act a fool in front of these doctors in this side of town.

Kimara leads inside to check in with the receptionist. As they sit in the lobby, Erik is glued to his phone the entire waiting period, fingers texting furiously.

“Why ain’t you holding my hand?” Kimara asks. “You always hold it while we wait.”

Erik looks over quickly and leans back offering out his hand. “My bad.” While the other continues to work double time on his screen.

“Who is...Alan?”

Erik jerks his phone back. “It’s not Alan.”

Kimara drops his hand. “Than who is it?”

“Work.” He says curtly, flipping to his Instagram instead.

“Is something wrong with the project you’re working on? Is Alan the one helping you?”

“Yes and no.” Erik says.

“Wait. It is wrong and Alan isn’t helping?”

“It’s not Alan!” Erik bellows before coughing to cover his outburst.

“Kimara?” Dr. Tracy says brightly with a smile, waving them back. Kimara smiles tightly back.

In her office, Dr. Tracy goes over the procedures and preparations for IVF, with all of the medical jargon, followed by some generous simplified explanation. It all sounded complicated and expensive but Kimara was grateful to hear about everything that could make her miracle possible.

“And Erik, you can be an awesome support by making sure to watch your alcohol intake, exercise, eat healthy, and avoid any environmental pollutants.”

“I was bout to watch that Chernobyl show; is that off the table now?” Erik asks.

“Erik, you ain’t got time for shit else, quit playing.” Kimara says with a little bark in her voice.

Erik laughs in a menacing tone. “Ok.”

Dr. Tracy looks between them nervously. “...we also provide counseling to couples during the process, as it can be difficult.”

“I wouldn’t mind it, but he wouldn’t be able to make it.” Kimara says.

“Oh you speak for me now?”

Kimara shrugs. “If you ain’t there, how else can things go forward?”

Erik sputters in disbelief. “I won’t be getting like this in front of the damn doctor. Thanks, doc. I got the prescription and shit, let’s go.” Erik keeps talking under his breath as he leaves the office. Kimara gets up to leave

“Is everything ok between you two?” Dr. Tracy asks.

Kimara hesitates before saying it’s fine, nothing more than a couples spat. Erik may have been right about needing to change doctors. At least a new one wouldn’t know when things were wrong. This would just look like a normal interaction to fresh eyes.

Back at their house, Erik is reading the instructions for her shots.

“Says this supposed to help in producing eggs for you. Still gonna take a while though.”

Kimara sits silent watching her shows.

“Remember to mark down when you got your period last. Supposed to start doing these on your next cycle.”

Silence.

Erik folds the instructions up, standing from the dining room table. He comes up behind the couch, leaning next to Kimara’s ear.

“Nassau is this weekend, you know?” SIlence. “You picked us a real good spot to make our own magic down there. I think we need it.”

“WE need a lot more than a trip to an island. Erik, you still ain’t said sorry for a damn thing you said to me today.”

Erik scooches to one side of Kimara to face her. “What should I apologize for?”

“Embarrassing me? Not telling me about what’s going on with you and also not asking how things are with me? Being secretive and mean to me?” Kimara’s eyes begin to well up. “You ain’t talked to me without walking off mad in so long, I don’t wanna get used to it Erik! You didn’t used to do that!” Erik hooks one leg followed by the other over the back of the couch to sit next to Kimara, holding her hands tight.

“It makes me think about before you left for that damn military out the blue. You snapped on me back then too. You tryna go somewhere else again?”

“Hell no! That life is behind me, I got nothing but you and work to get through now.”

“So I’m a damn task?” Kimara mopes.

“No! Look: I don’t mean to say anything to make you think you boring because you’re not. You’re the most exciting thing in my life, and I love having you with me. Every time I’m reminded you’re my wife, I’m thinking how we should be on our damn tenth wedding anniversary instead of third. But I’m done and thankfully you’re not.”

“Then why are you doing me like this?”

“I-I don’t wanna force shit on you more than you can handle. I got things happening at my job right now that could make you think the worst, but I promise it’s not. And you don’t need that pressure right now.”

“Neither do you!”

“I can handle it. You focus on your dreams at the studio, and getting ready to host the biggest headed baby your womb will ever know.”

Kimara snorts thinking about this, looking down instinctively. Erik takes one side of her face in his hand.

“I wanna be more open but I don’t wanna cost you anything too. So until shit blows over, just know I got this. Be patient with me, and I promise to be more patient too.”

Kimara pulls Erik to her for a longing kiss, rubbing his face for comfort. She could feel he cares, but there was still so much gnawing in her mind, she just wasn’t ready to discuss. But there was one thing.

“One more thing though, before I call it forgiven and get to packing for the trip.”

“You still ain’t packed?”

“I’m asking the questions! Who is Alan?”

Erk sighs, dipping his head down before looking her in the face to answer. “Alaina.

“He’s a what?”

“Huh? No, Alaina. The name was Alaina not Alan.”

Kimara’s face draws up inquisitively. “And...she is?”

“My partner for the project I’m working on. They recruited her from another region and-”

“That’s who you spent the night with instead of dinner with T’Challa and me and his girl?” Kimara asks.

“I came home! Don’t make it sound like that, it was a late night. Ole dude I work for keeps piling shit on me and deadlines-”

Kimara waves her hands in front of him. “It’s fine.”

“Huh?”

“It’s ok!” Kimara smiles. “Seriously, I trust you. You said works been beating your ass, and I know you wouldn’t be looking all sour if you were getting some ass on the side, so I think I can trust you aren’t cheating.”

Erik stared at her speechless before nodding and agreeing.

“Plus, we tryna have a baby and I know you wouldn’t mix shit up with her when all that seed is mine, like that would be wasteful.”

Erik growls in his chest, leaning over her, nose to nose. “Say that again.”

Kimara holds back her smile, rubbing his chest. “Your seeeed is miiiine. Don’t waste it.” Kimara bites his lip at the end of ‘it’, catching him of guard, but not enough to lay her out legs spread quicker than she could blink.

“Wait wait, Erik. I can’t!” Kimara says, half giggling.

“Whatchu mean?? You playing with a dog and get afraid when you get the bark? Quit playing and get them draws off.” Erik pulls at her bottoms.

“No! Wait! I mean it, I’m cramping and shit. I don’t want nothing near my pussy right now.”

Erik moans out loud in frustration, plopping backwards on the couch, erection pushing at his sweatpants.

Kimara lowkey loved making him wait, period or not. It’s nice to see he still wants her, and no one else has his attention to fix his rather big problem throbbing in his pants.

“Erik? You never told me what you think about the tour.”

Erik exhales loudly. “Good idea, that’s finna kill my hard on real quick.”

“Erik!”

He sits up, pushing down on himself. “Mara, I want you to get your hustle goin, I know you been singin since way way way back.”

“Hold up, it ain’t been that long, makin me feel old.”

Erik bops her with his shoulder. “You know you been my Suga Mama.”

“Two months older Erik. Dassit!”

Erik looks at the floor, rubbing her knee. “I just don’t understand why you think it’s best to leave now. What Imma do without you for two months?”

“Whatever you been doin get home late at night.” Kimara says flatly.

“The project is almost finished, do I don’t know where that attitude came from.”

Kimara sits silent, not up for a fight, especially in her hormonal state.

Erik stares at her, testing her. He knows she wants to say more, she always does. “I got two more weeks on this, and it’s done. My workload is gonna be lighter, more boring, and I promise my time will be yours, but now you wanna leave, so.”

“But you understand why right? It doesn’t sound like you do. I don’t wanna leave you alone or stop trying, but...this is my dream!”

“Having a family is too right? That’s why all our time and money been revolving around everything related to that for almost a whole damn year. It’s fucking flaky.” Erik shoots back.

“Erik, you got to do what you wanted, right? This ain’t new with you! When you want something, you go for it, fuck anybody that gives a shit, it’s yours. I’m tired of being in the shadow of your shit, cleaning things up so you can have your peace. This is mine.”

“The fuck is you talkin about?? Is your PMS going retrograde or some shit?” Erik speaks over her in an agitated tone. Nothing Kimara said made sense anymore to him.

Kimara gets up, waving him off. “Eat my ass Erik, I said what I fucking had to say and I mean that shit.”

Masterlist

Ragtag

@chaneajoyyy @sarcastic-sunshines @muse-of-mbaku@dameshaemonique @fonville-designs@destinio1@bakarisange l@wakanda-inspired @klaine15689 @savageiz @nickidub718 @yoyolovesbucky @alexundefined @forbeautyandlife @bakarisangel

#shakafic #black panther fic

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squeakthemonkey · 5 years

Text

Cherry Blossoms --Part two

Thank you so much for taking the time to read the first part and this. I have a third part in the works, just gotta put some elbow grease into it, and do have a plan in place to carry it on if it is wanted

as always please go and play the game, CHANGELING, this is based on and the future games in the works by @steamberrystudio it is awesome and the demo is out for the new game Guilded Shadows, which is perfect if you only want a peak into the writing style and game play.

Here’s Part 1 for anyone that wants to read it.

__________________Part 2_______________

Beth’s fingers absently tapped the table as she thought. The wizards at the agency were a lot more… stuffy. At least the ones that she met and she hadn’t met a lot of them, after all who wanted anything to do with someone like her, she knew that much even from home.

“So, what are we going to start with?” She watched as the handsome man slipped into the chair opposite her. He seemed far more relaxed than she expected, and though he was trying to hide it she could see the curiosity rolling over him. His eyes skirting around her a little before he focused on her.

“We can start with names. I’m Beth.” She raised the drink he had placed in front of her in cheers and slipped on it lightly.

“Merle.” He introduced himself to her his sly grin returning as he tried to hide his laugh, but he couldn’t help it. Her eyes had rolled back and she hummed as she drank the latte. “That good huh?”

“Mmm,” She hummed again. “So good, Merle,” She could tell she was trying way too hard, yet every interaction between them egged her on. That and she could feel the half truth in his words. He wasn’t using his real name here? Of course there were safety measures in his line so she played of her reaction as her drink. His curiosity spread over her like a wave, as well as the laugh at her reaction. “with all seriousness, most days these drinks give me the will to live.” She lent forward crossing her arms over the table. “Tell me, you put some thing on them didn’t you?” She wiggled her free fingers in a spell like motion and narrowed her eyes.

“No,” he chuckled again. “Just practice.” She took another sip of the drink and looked at him unconvinced.

“So Beth,” He matched her movements again the the magic sparking against her skin. The Orai danced again, a rainbow reflection around the room. “What do you do for a living? Must be bad if only drinks give you the will to live,”

“The agency,” She rolled her eyes and shook her head as if it explained everything. “I’m a… well I guess the closest thing would be a negotiator. The go between.” Merle nodded along. “Trying to keep everyone happy is a tough job, since nobody is ever happy. But got to play nice once in a while, right?” Beth cocked her eye brow. She had ask of The Murder at work, just office gossip and such, after all the agency played nice with them when the agency wanted something. She had thought of it like some strange wizard mafia set up yet was pleasantly surprised instead to find the coffee shop instead. While he was close he noticed the sweet cherry blossom again, however it didn’t seem to be as strong immediately around her. Perhaps it was an affect of the Orai and not some strange perfume?

“I know what you mean,” He answered lightly, careful about his wording, he knew all to well. “It’s heavy price.”

“But a good job,” She agreed. “Helps people, so perhaps a little worth it. Besides it lead me here,” She motioned the drink towards him and took another sip, delighting in the flavour again. Damn, they make good coffee. She took the break to look over the man, from the pinch of colour in his hair to the piercings. She could read the energy around him, he was clearly powerful, as was the rest of the cafe around him.

“but that’s not what we’re here for, after all, I have yet to give my side of the bargain.” Taking one last sip of the drink she placed the cup out of the way and opened her arms across the table.

Merle flashed his teeth in a grin yet he found a strange reluctance in giving her his hands. He was already giving in more than he should have done. Yet, he found himself doing so anyway.

Beth held back the electricity in her hands as the warmth of his came closer. She bit her lip slightly debating on telling him she could feel the call of his magic. It was warm and calming, smoothing almost like a vine curling up her arm. He was searching for his own answers. Instead of telling him, she let him search, focusing on her own as she flipped his hand between hers.

They were tucked away into a little crevice where nobody seemed to be paying attention to them, so she took the opportunity to up her game, very lightly drawing along the lines of his hand as she read them, she bit her lip lightly again as his hand shivered lightly in hers. He didn’t even notice he did it.

“So you read palms?” he asked. “Where did you learn that?”

“It’s just practice,” She said in a light voice, glancing up at him. “I taught myself, I used to have a lot of spare time of time on my hands. So I decided to read everyone else’s hands instead.”

“A hobby?” She nodded.

“hmmm,” Beth let the low sound out as she lightly caressed his palm. “It says here you come from a large family who you are extremely protective of.” She kept her eyes down, but remained cutely aware his eyes hadn’t left her. “You’re kind, despite adversity, but you tend to put duty above all but your first priority. Even if that means above yourself too.” She used her fingers to slide across his stretching them out and lifting his hand again closer to her face for a better look. She caught the grin in the corner of her eye as her breath fell against him. His palm started to get get hotter the closer she got.

“You know you’re craft well and oh… You’re powerful, and playful. Not only with your magic.” Beth raised an eyebrow, delighting in the chuckle she earned from him. “You’re a creator or would like to be, or at least very fond of... some art... hmm, music maybe? You like to laugh too, especially when others are in on the joke.” But as her eyes fell again a line caught her attention and she frowned, her thumb traced the line; her heart thumping sympathetically. He was lonely it read. Really lonely. She knew the feeling.

His spine tingled as he watched the change in her demeanor, the Orai around her blurred around the room, the buzzing slowed to a dull pace. They were connected to her feelings. He wondered what she had seen as the words seemed to refrain from leaving her. She softened her features instead her flirting behind the thoughts that flew past her head.

“You like being around people, but duty pushes them away, you push them away. Despite wanting to help them, you wont let them help you.” She almost wanted to hold his hand properly, to twist his fingers in hers as if she could provide him some comfort. She had to admit to herself that it was an endearing trait, even if he didn’t know it himself since he seemed to be a little surprised. His other hand was laid casually along the table. Beth looked to him for permission but took his other hand when he didn’t pull away. She placed them both in front of her, her eyes dancing along the lines of his story, feelings emotions he would rather keep hidden. Feeling the anxiety start to creep in between them she held back the truth despite the fact it made a pain throb in the back of her head.

“This is how you tell the future,” She switched her voice back to playful instead. She looked up for his permission again, his cocked head and narrowed eyes glad for the diversion she had gone to instead.

“Well, color me intrigued.” he nodded for her to continue, yet as she looked over his hands again she didn’t find much better. The lines connected and weaved to tell his story, However the lines also broke and splintered, span and circled. He was too entwined with magic to have something truly definitive save for one thing.

Heartbreak. Devastating heartbreak.

Beth’s heart skipped a little. Perhaps she could help, which lines was it on again? she thought, running her thumb across it. Oh. The love line. So he was alone, and if he did put himself out there…

As if to give him some unseen comfort she covered the lines with her fingers, opening up fully to his probing magic searching for answers. She let him see her truth as if to hide his. He was so warm. So, so warm. It was strange. Normally she hated when others had to use magic on her, to feel them on her soul and in her heart. Even when she needed healing she opted to do so when it was only too much. But his she didn’t mind. His magic was as warm as his hand.

A few Orai bumped around her feet, Merle noted to himself, especially when she tried to hide whatever she had found. It was clearly something, though it bugged him a little that she clearly wasn’t going to tell him. But whatever it was had a profound affect on the Orai, they slowed their home making around the cafe, careful to their makers emotions acting more like guards than creatures of broken spirit. As she allowed him in to see what he searched for to, he was almost distracted from the Orai by the blinding light of her soul. It confused him even more the vibrancy and life energy of an Esper but… clearly not. Her soul as bright and open as it was to him hid it’s meaning. He almost wanted to back away from her, to go away and think about it all.

“So what do you see?” he asked after a moment , realizing the words had left him before he could stop them, he had meant a distraction but they fell out instead. “By the look on your face, i suspect Aiah is gonna kill me for what ever it is,” Beth shot her eyes up, she hadn’t meant to hesitate for so long. His face was still warm and inviting, calm as if he didn’t know what she had seen so she pushed it into the back of her mind. Perhaps if she kept an eye out she could help divert his path. She relaxed back, letting his hands go and grabbing her drink again.

“I see...” She bit her lip hoping the concern on her face played off as a feint. She broke out her smile again brightening the room and buzzing the Orai once more. “I see you giving me your number,”

The minute strain that had danced between them broke like a dam. He too fell back more relaxed as she soothed the awkwardness and drew his hands back towards himself, though as much as he wanted to go back into his space, found himself not entirely willingly to leave hers. Beth let the truth sink in. She would tell him one day, not this day however. A new resolve crept up her spine. Just like she had seen the worst magic could do to people and resolved to help them, she would try and help him to. He was kind, she knew that and didn’t deserve such a fate.

“I don’t know,” he said sucking through his teeth. “I don’t give my number out, the price to trade is just to high. You’ve also told me things I already know .”

“You don’t know my number,” His laugh broke the final bit of tension, as if it had never happened.

“Very determined aren’t you?” He cocked his head again but not put off by her tone, that she could easily slip back to flirting actually impressed him a little. Beth laughed, pulling her card and some cash out and onto the table from her wallet before pushing it back into her jacket. Her eye catching the way the sun caught the color in his hair.

“I prefer to get what I want.” Her voice was matter of fact. “Especially when they’re…” She drunk the sight of him again letting out a breath. “Definitely worth it.” His laugh was genuine, and he wasn’t one to be outplayed.

“And you? Are you worth it?” Matching his grizzle Beth lent forward once again, her movements just enough that his eye twitched a little to where she was guiding him. She took the drink in her hand, but waited a moment before holding it in front of her blocking whatever view had caught his attention and took a sip of her cooled drink.

“You have no idea.” Shameless! She thought desperately wishing her face wasn’t bright red as she said it. At least she found reward in the way just the tips of his ears turned the barest shade of pink, enough for her to notice. She watched as he took up the challenge leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He looked over her, instead of flirting outwardly, his revenge was too look over her again, agonizingly slow in all the right places. She would have normally felt embarrassed, flaunting so openly and letting him watch over her like this but instead it made her belly warm, daring her to out do him once again. Damn, he was good. Her eyes caught a flicker of blonde and green giddily peek around the corner. She wouldn’t have much more time alone.

“how about we make a new deal - well, actually more of a bet?” She suggested. “I’ve come here a lot but seemed to have missed you somehow.” even she was incredulous how she had done it. “So three times. We meet again three times, and if it goes well and you agree to it of course, I get your number,”

Merle remained a little apprehensive, but nodded to her terms before he could stop himself, after all this didn’t happen all the time. She gave him a sweet grin, picking up her things and shooting him a wink before he could speak and change his mind. Beth let out a breath as she passed him. What did she just do? It made her almost light headed with excitement. It could be nothing, She could not meet him again or he could say no, she knew actually she would smile and it wouldn’t bother her, she did come on a little strong, but she had to admit she was a little excited about it all. She’d never picked up guys at a bar let alone a cafe.

But maybe, just maybe, it could be the best thing she had done in a long time

_______________________________________

So yeah, please let me know if you want this to continue or you want something else? Also this i have absolutely no idea to flirt so for tumblrs sake i will state this is complete fiction. Either way, thank you for taking the time to read this little ditty. and again. go the play the game. please. it so good.

#changeling #@steamberrystudios #merle x OC #Merle Beltran #Beltran #fiction #fanfiction #romance #original character #visual novel #wizard #magic #will carry on if wanted #please be nice #fanfic #Beth #thank you for your time #i really have no idea how to flirt #flirtfest

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beebosbitchh · 7 years

Note

1-65 ;)

holy heck ! thank you sophiw i lov u 🍒

1. Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you?

i dont understand this question?? like sometimes i doubt my own existence and other times i doubt that i exist to certain ppl? ya?

2. On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you?

2,, normal amount? like good for sleep but pitch black is scaryy but not to the point i need the escape ?? if that makes sense??

3. The person you would never want to meet?

guy fieri, i dont think i need to know if hes actually real ? like is he real and from this dimension or from flavortown (which he has a very scarily detailed description of)?? thats not something i need to know

4. What is your favorite word?

hmm, probably ‘fam’ obviously

5. If you were a type of tree, what would you be?

a willow tree !!!!!!!!!! i just talked to my mom about this :-0

6. When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought?

ngl but i dont look in the mirror anymore unless its lip syncing along to a song sung by a guy/someone w a deeper voice bc i feel like it suits me better! gotta love coping w dysphoria!

7. What shirt are you wearing?

baseball tee, gay

8. What do you label yourself as?

nb, lesbian, fool

9. Bright room or dark room?

dark room

10. What were you doing at midnight last night?

slepe

11. Favorite age you’ve been so far?

10-11 when i was in 5th grade. i still only had two friends but i was way more extroverted and everything was so carefree and i was very invested in adventure time and art. i think that was the most of a childhood i got? i honestly did not do much as a kid and i wish i had..

12. Who told you they loved you last?

sophiw ! tumblr user almightyportraits ! the loml !

13. Your worst enemy?

14. What is your current desktop picture?

one from apple called ‘abstract shapes’ its very orange but also blue which is my fave color pairing atm so its perfect

15. Do you like someone?

tumblr user vahilla

16. The last song you listened to?

megan played ‘marceline’ by willow in her car ! a song i suggested to her a few months ago and it makes me very happy that she likes it especially bc we bonded over adventure time in 6th grade :-)

17. You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up?

mmyy seelfff ??

18. Who would you really like to just punch in the face?

mmmyseyyffelllff ??

19. If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do?

eh whats the point

20. What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional)

n o ne ?

21. If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do?

what is the opposite of nb,, i feel like if i was opposite of how i present id be a girl, which is a verryyy weird thought for me, pass

22. Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it?

no :-/

23. What is one unique thing you’re afraid of?

uh first of all blood, like, ill pass out,, second of all,, literally everything worries me

24. You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal.

jimmy johns #16, turkey, bacon, lettuce, tomato, NO MAYO

25. You just found $100! How are you going to spend it?

im a very practical person so the least boring answer i can come up w is more art supplies

26. You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go?

denmark

27. An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be?

fukcing , acetoNe

28. You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place?

i think a FIRST rule would have to be pretty IMPORTANT so probably smt like how ~WE THE PEOPLE~ are all EQUAL would be a pretty good start and pretty UNDENIABLE and STRAIGHT FORWARD especially if it was the FIRST thing in this,, hmm lets call it the CONSTITUTION, in the completely hypothetical society

29. What is your favorite expletive?

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuk cufck ufc kfuck

30. Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno?

sunglasses??!!! that shit gotta be bright huh>?? gotta protect my retinas

31. You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

i wanna say my first relationship made me a better person but that shit was rreeeaaallyyyy fucking awful and 4 months (+recovery months) that i will never get back and i think ? maybe ?? i wouldve been ok without it ? idk just a thought

32. You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world!

spain ?!?!? why not + i sorta know the language? thatd b cool

33. The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back?

zoey my dog :-( i miss her a lot, this month it will have been two years oh my god i miss her so much

34. What was your last dream about?

the last one i remember was a nightmare about someone tryna murder me i was very scared

36. Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?

i think so , when i was two i got really really sick and couldve died ?

37. Have you ever built a snowman?

ahh yes ! we gave hhimm,, fruit snack nipples, please forgive me fathr

38. What is the color of your socks?

grey w blue n orange stripes ( again i lov blue n orange together, my shirt is teal and i have an orange hat on wow)

39. What type of music do you like?

all! i had to train this new guy at work and im sooo awkward but once why started talking about music it was easy for me to talk bc it was smt we both really like !!! i felt like i could actually communicate w feeling a disconnect it was nice ! we talked mostly about rap which was cool and unexpected but i could do it ? i really love music and i love being able to know enough to talk about it ,, isk

40. Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets?

sunrises, ive been pushing myself to wake up unreasonably early to have more time to myself and i get to watch the sunrise most days which is nice

41. What is your favorite milkshake flavor?

chocolate

42. What football team do you support? (I will answer in terms of American football as well as soccer)

whom?

44. What do you want to be when you graduate?

college? god i dont even know… smt w art.. by an illustrator or art teacher or freelance artist or graphic designer ,, i really dont know

45. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

one thing ?!!?!? i wish i was neurotypical

46. Are you reliable?

yes? i try hard to be? i hope so ?

47. If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be?

u still a lil bitch ?

48. Do you hold grudges?

nope i try not to, ive had too many toxic petty people in my life that i dont need to be one myself.. now this is grudges w/o reason, but if ive given people several ‘second chances’ and theyre still (thumbs down) then ill avoid them but w/i reason?

49. If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create?

DOG HORSES BIG DOGs

50. What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had?

mm probably smt w my lab partner from last year. she always sends me weird quotes from a fanfiction shes reading and its weird but i really appreciate that she still talks to me or talks to me at all tbh

51. Are you a good liar?

nooo ?? i try not to lie? mb not tell the full truth but idk , i feel like id feel too guilty

52. How long could you go without talking?

uhh literally days like i already fucking do.. i m taking this as verbally but i dont get texts so like, it would not be hard

53. What has been you worst haircut/style?

before i went to short hair i used to alllwaayyys wear a tight ponytail every single day bc i wasnt girly enough to do anything w it and it was really really gross like thank god i cut it all off

54. Have you ever baked your own cake?

heck yeah

55. Can you do any accents other than your own?

*clears throat*

hewwo?

56. What do you like on your toast?

butter and jam

57. What is the last thing you drew a picture of?

58. What would be you dream car?

razor scooter

59. Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain.

sometimes im just too physically or emotionally exhausted to stand so ill just,, lay down? ive fallen asleep in the shower before ha

60. Do you believe in aliens?

yup

61. Do you often read your horoscope?

whenever it comes up but i dont ,, seek it out

62. What is your favorite letter of the alphabet?

63. Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons?

dragons tf

64. What do you think about babies?

evil, ugly, dont see the appeal. open ur eyes ppl !!!! bbs are n Ot cute !!

65. Freebie! Ask anything interesting you can think of.

#long post /#mention of dysphoria /#ask #thenk yoy sophiw #this took 4ever but worth it bc it got me to calm down?? coolc ool cool

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whyarethedolanssoattractive · 7 years

Text

Paint You Wings ~ Ethan Dolan {Part One}

[A/N: Okay so I literally could not think of a summary that didn’t sound completely stupid, but when I do I’ll edit this and post it lmao sorry]

Looking at the clock was a bad idea. I didn’t need to be reminded of the fact that the most important meeting of my career was in less than five hours and I hadn’t gotten a single minute of sleep. It only added more stress.

As if sleeping in dead silence wasn’t difficult enough, a bloodcurdling screech was heard from the other side of the wall. Without thinking twice, I jumped out of bed with an Exact-O knife and ran out of my apartment and pounded on the door next to mine several times.

It opened slowly, revealing a tall guy with a strand of purple hair in a black hoodie. He was gripping his right bicep and wincing. “Yeah?”

I went blank for a second. This guy was attractive to say the least. His features were extremely defined and his hair cropped his face in the perfect way. “Huh? Oh, um, I heard a scream.” I shook my head and held up my Exact-O knife.

The guy laughed, then opened the door a little more. “Sorry, my brother and I are filming a video. He just tased me.” His smile shifted to one side as he leaned against the doorway. “We didn’t mean to, like, alarm you.”

I shook my head. “No, no, you’re fine.”

We stood there for a solid ten seconds.

“Uh, I’m Ethan by the way.” He stuck his hand out. I stared at it for a minute before realizing I was supposed to shake it.

“Oh! I’m Averly. Nice to meet you, Ethan. Um, I should, uh, go get some sleep.” I gestured over my shoulder and turned around slowly.

He scoffed. “Sleep? It’s only, what, nine?” He laughed once more. His laugh was loud and contagious, but its authenticity made it okay.

I couldn’t help but laugh myself as I turned back around. “Try three in the morning.”

His jaw dropped slightly. “Are you kidding? Gray! It’s three AM! We need to freaking finish this!” He shouted the last part over his shoulder. “Uh, yeah, sorry about scaring you, Averly. I’ll see you around, maybe?” He smiled at me again and I swear I almost melted.

“Yeah, maybe. Bye Ethan.” I turned around and walked back to my apartment. After I put my Exact-O knife back in its box, I crawled back into bed.

Surprisingly enough, I managed to drift to sleep fairly easily after that. The next thing I remembered was my alarm going off. It was hardly even a struggle to wake up, I felt fully refreshed.

After I showered, I had a mental debate about which dress to wear: Navy blue with long sleeves and gold accessories, or sleeveless violet with a floral print cardigan and silver accessories.

I wound up choosing the violet one, then curled my hair. As I left the apartment, I grabbed my keys, phone, and portfolio. When I opened the door, the guy from last night - Ethan - was leaning against the railing, looking down at the parking lot.

He turned his head to see who I was once I closed the door and a small smile crept onto his face. “Hey, Averly, right?”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Uh, yeah. Ethan?” I’m not sure why I asked. I knew it was Ethan.

“Yeah, yeah. You look nice.” He complimented, looking me up and down. I laughed and glanced over myself once more.

“Oh, thanks. Important meeting.” I shrugged. He tilted his head barely. “Um, I’m trying to get some of my pieces into Art Pour L'âme.” I gestured with my portfolio.

His mouth fell open. “You’re an artist?” That smile came back slowly.

I couldn’t help but laugh quietly. “Yeah. I should get going. I’ll see you around.” I smiled and started to walk towards the stairs.

“Yes! I mean, yeah. Totally.” He waved in small motions as I left. A few seconds after I reached the steps, I heard his door open and close.

I put my portfolio in the backseat, then set off to the gallery. On the drive over, I mentally reviewed the way I would explain the names and meanings of all of my pieces. I came up with about seven-billion for each piece, but couldn’t decide which ways sounded less pretentious and douchey.

Finally, I arrived at the gallery. It took about thirteen mirror pep-talks before I could get out of the car, and twice that to set foot inside. Luckily, I walked in just as the executive display director, James Clifton, was coming to meet me.

He was dressed in an all-black suit with a yellow tie and handkerchief. He smiled at me, then gave me a kiss on both cheeks. “You must be Averly Dixon, yes?”

I smiled and nodded my head. “Yes Sir. I just want to let you know that I’m very grateful for this opportunity and it’s a complete honor just to be here.”

He nodded his head and smiled. “The honor is all mine, Miss Dixon. Now, let’s have a look at some of your pieces. These aren’t the originals, right?” He pointed at the portfolio.

“Um, n-no Sir. You said to take photos of the pieces, right?” Instantly, I started to regret every decision I’d ever made in my entire life.

He nodded his head, then opened the portfolio. “Yes, yes.”

I nodded slowly, but held my breath as he started to glimpse through the pictures. His face showed… Dissatisfaction. Almost like he was expecting me - a seventeen-year-old from Dallas, Texas - to be a Picasso Mini-Me.

He clicked his tongue slowly, then slid the photos back into the portfolio. “Miss Dixon, you have an impeccable style. It’s all very unique in one sense, but I feel like I’ve seen all of these before. Like you’re a garage-band making covers of popular songs, but with art. Do you understand?” He put a hand on my knee and pouted.

I nodded my head slowly. “Yes, I understand.”

He slowly took his hand away. “But as I said, your style is simply breathtaking, so I’m going to propose an idea. I will give you a month to give me something I’ve never seen before, and you will earn not only a display, but quite possibly your own exhibit.”

My breath hitched in my throat. My own exhibit? Not possible. “Really?” Mr. Clifton nodded. “Thank you so much! You won’t regret it.” I stood up, shook his hand, grabbed my portfolio, and went back out to my car. This was my real chance, and I wasn’t about to squander it.

Rather than going home, I drove straight to my studio and searched for inspiration. Only, I couldn’t. If I looked at another piece of work, I knew I would inadvertently “visually cover” it. I had to be careful if I ever wanted any of my work in the Art Pour L'âme.

My mind raced back and forth. LA, Dallas, family, friends, urban, rural, male, female, light pallet, dark pallet, and everything in between. I sat in front of a blank page in an open sketchbook for two hours, and it stayed just the same. Not a single pencil stroke or even mental map of an idea. I was completely blocked.

Never had I ever been blocked before that moment. I always found something to create. Then again, everything I had made up until this point was just a twist on something everyone’s seen before.

After convincing myself that discouraging thoughts and white blank pages were getting me nowhere, I closed my sketchbook, changed out of my art-clothes, and went back to the car. Instead of listening to music on my commute, I let the silence take over, hoping it would give me answers.

It didn’t. Ten minutes in the car filled with boring nothingness, all to no avail. I walked up the steps, then down the way to my apartment, only to find a blue sticky-note with sharpie on it.

(123) 456 - 7890 - Ethan :)

I pulled the sticky-note off the door and took it inside with me, then sat my portfolio in the living room. I wasn’t ecstatic about how the meeting went, but I could recover. I knew I could.

My phone started buzzing on the table. It was a call from Ellie, my fourteen-year-old sister.

“Hey, El. What’s up?”

“You need to come home.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. After our dad threw me out, there was no way I was going to go home. “What makes you think I need to do that?”

She sighed. “It’s Dad.”

“What about him?”

She was quiet for a minute, which was never good. “He wants you to come home, Av.”

I shook my head, despite the fact that she couldn’t see me. “Ellie, he isn’t my dad anymore. He kicked me out, remember? He doesn’t want me to come home. He wants to stop feeling guilty. I’ll talk to you later, okay? For now, I’ve gotta make an important call.”

“Averly, don’t be like that.”

I almost scoffed. “Like what, Ellie? I promise, he doesn’t want me home. I’ll call you tonight. I love you.”

She hung up without another word. I sat my phone down on the table once more and stared at it. Part of me hoped she would call back, but another part - the more sensible part - knew she wouldn’t. She worshiped the ground our dad walked on. Hell, she thought he hung the moon. She was naive and it killed her quite often.

Instead of letting my thoughts overwhelm me like usual, I picked the phone back up and dialed a number. Not Ellie’s. A number I had never dialed before, but I knew I would in the future.

Thank y’all so much for reading! I think I’ll try to update every week in the Saturday-Monday range :)

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan fanfic #ethan dolan imagine #Paint You Wings ~ Ethan Dolan #dolan twins #kenzie posts stuff

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roommateofmyimagination-blog · 7 years

Text

Chapter 1: Moving in

✗ Adrian ✗

“You sure you don't need help moving in?” Mom asked as i was moving boxes into my car.

“Uh?” I looked back at her, “Oh. Nah. It’ll be fine.” I set the box down and counted all of my things. “Am i forgetting anything?” I scratched my head.

“Your guitar?” Mom looked into my trunk as well.

“Fuck!!” I ran back inside and up the stairs to my room and grabbed my guitar case and my guitar. Gently putting it in the case, i looked around my now slightly empty room. “Forgetting anything else?” I stood up, spinning in a slow circle. “Oh shit yeah.” i slapped my forehead. “Demyan? Where are you?” I walked to my bed, shifting around the blankets. Flipping the blankets over, i found Demyan lying in the center of the bed. “Cmon, get up. We’re leaving.”

Demyan made little grumbling noises. “No. It is too bright outside.” he tried to waddle away.

“Nuh-uh.” I picked him up gently. “You are comin with me. No questions.”I stroked his little head with my finger. “Can you sleep in my pant pocket?”

“How long is the drive?” He yawned a bit.

“Not long, but i do have to unpack. If my roommate isn’t there, ill let you out. We got a deal?” i asked him.

He took a moment to respond, “We do.” he latched onto my shirt and crawled down into my front pocket. “You are lucky this is a deep pocket.” he said from inside.

“Do you want in the guitar case?” I chuckled.

He poked his little head out, looking down at the case. “Would you leave it open for me?”

“Probably not.” I bent back down near the case closing it up.

“Then i shall stay here for now. I may crawl out into the car.” He wiggled himself back into my pocket.

“Just let me know if you do.” i heaved my case over my shoulder and made my way back down the stairs. Seeing Dad hanging out at the bottom of the stair case. “Hey.” I said before he saw me.

“Hello.” He turned to face me. “Will you be coming back to visit?” he asked, leaning on the railing.

“Possibly, if i have time.” I stood on the last step before the floor. “Why? Aren’t you glad im leaving the house?”

“A little.” He looked towards the front door. “It won’t be the same without you here sometimes. You are our last child. We do wish to see you as often as we can.”

“I’ll see if i can.” I rubbed my head.

“You should visit to play for your mother. “ dad extended his hand.

“Ill try.” i grabbed his hand, and we shared a firm handshake. Dad smiled a bit and slapped my shoulder with his other hand. He walked with me when i went outside to find mom reorganizing my boxes. “Ma, leave my shit alone.” I walked up to her, taking the box from her hands and putting it back in the trunk.

“I was just making life easier for you.” she put her hands on her hips and made a stern face.

“Uhuh, Sure.” i smirked at her, moving a stray lock of hair out of her face and behind her ear with the rest of her dark brown hair that had bits of graying showing.. “Thanks mom.”

“Your welcome.” She smiled. “Call if you need help.”

“I will. I think i have some buddies who go to school there.” I walked to the passenger side of the car and put my guitar there.

“Your druggy friends?” Dad said from the door way.

Mom gave him a stern look. Dad shrugged in response. “Don’t you have a friend there who is a senior this year?” She asked.

“Ya, why?” I asked. Closing the door.

“The fraternity friend you mention?” She crossed her arms.

“Eric. Yeah. What about it?” I put my hand on my hip, shfting my weight to my left leg.

“I like the idea of you joining a fraternity, but not his.” she looked sad.

“Frats arent my thing. But Frat parties are a different stroy.” I leaned onto the car.

“Dont pass all of your classes this semester, we’re not paying for school.” Dad sounded mad.

“Im gonna pass. Im just gonna party too.”I smirked. “I’m a high functioning druggy.”

“Be safe. Have fun.” mom put her hand on my shoulder, “But get your Bachelor as well.”

“I will.” I grabbed her hand. “Im going to be the photographer who takes photos for your advertisements.” mom chuckled softly. “Now, i gotta go. Ill see you around.” I pulled mom closer and gave her a kiss on the cheek, and lifting a peace sign to my dad who hesitantly did the same back. I got in the car, put it in reverse and was out of the driveway and headed to campus for my first year living on campus. My first year I was living at home, but i finally convinced dad to let me leave on campus for the first time and get a college experience.

“Are we there yet?” Demyan said sleepily as he sat in a cupholder.

“I just got on campus let me find my dorm building and park.” I poked him on the head and looked for my building. After finding it, I park the car backwards, Trunk facing the sidewalk. Turning the car off i hop out of the car. “You staying in the cupholder, or back in the pocket?” I went to the other side and pulled out my guitar, backpack that hard art supplies in it, and all my camera bags.

“I can be out in the daylight, you know that, correct?” Demyan said as he crawled into the passenger seat. “I just choose not too.” “I do know that, but pets aren’t allowed here. So in the pocket or in my camera bag.” I pointed at the bag that was hanging from my hip.

“I shall get in your bag. Your pocket is not the most comfortable.” he waddled up to the bag and hopped in when i opened it enough to let him in.

By the time i made it up to the third floor. I hunched over at the top of the stair case. “Fuck. This. SHIT!” i huffed as i placed my hands on my knees. “Art students and stairs are not FUCKIN FUN!” I slung all my bags back onto my shoulders and stood up straight. “This is all going to be worth it. When i fucking finish and unpack every-fuckin-thing.” I stomped my way down the hallway, and found my room. Knocking on the door, I waited a moment, then tested the door knob. It was unlocked, so i went in. No one was in the room at the moment but looked like my roommate was already moved in and unpacked. “Ah, guess he aint here….Hm, hope hes cute.” I set all my stuff down and let demyan out. “Stay out of sight okay?”

“Will do.” Demyan waddled and bounced over to the dresser on the empty side of the room and crawled into it. “I will be here.”

“Alright.” I pulled out my phone and looked at the temperature. “A bit too hot for doing this with clothing on….” I put my hands on my hip. “Fuck it im going shirtless.” I took my top shirt off then took my tshirt off.

“Do not let anyone see that chain…” Demyan mumbled from his space.

“I was just working on that.” I huffed, shimmying the chain down and pulling my pants on over it. “Ill be back.” I turned and walked out of the room and back down the stairs and too the car. This took me several runs to do by myself. But i eventually got everything into the room. With my last run, i walked into the dorm room carrying several boxes.

“Oh hi!” a voice chirped up.

“Ah.” I stopped and put the boxes down. “Sorry, didn’t see ya.” I wiped my hands together, then onto my pants. Turning around i faced my dormmate. “Sup.” I held my fist out for a fist bump.

“U-uuuhm.” He said when he saw me. His face was turning red as his hand was just held out into the air for a handshake. “Uhm! Yeah, Hi. its okay!” He looked up to meet my eyes and turned his hand into a fist and bumped his knuckles with me. “I’m Valentine. Valentine Hicks.”

“Adrian Howell.” I replied back, eyeing him up and down.

“What?” he said, turning his head to the side.

“Have we met before? You look somewhat familiar?” I ran my hands through my hair and tied it all up in a messy top bun.

“Hmmm, Did you go to school here your first year?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“Art major?”

“Yeah.”

“Then you must have saw me in the building.” He smiled.

“Foundations.” Is all i said.

“Huh?” He tilted his head again.

“Foundations room, you’re the talkative kid who was there that day.” I pointed at his hair. “I remember that hair with that attitude.”

“Oh!” he clapped his hands together, “you did that sunset painting! It was so pretty!”

I turned away from him and started unpacking my stuff. “So whats your major?” i cut open all my boxes and dumped my clothes on the bed and floor.

“Fashion designer.” He said proudly, when i looked over at him he stood very proudly too. “Whats yours?” he asked, walking up to me. “Need help?”

“Major in Photography with a minor in film. Might change a bit.” I started seperating my pants from my shirts, from my socks, and from my boxers. “And nah. I got this.”

“What would change?” He asked, sitting on my bed and helping fold my clothes neatly. “You have too much stuff thats ripped, stained in paint and in black.” he pouted a bit.

“Its my style.” I eyed him up and down again. “I might double major or double minor. Thinking of adding music to it all if i can.”

“You write music or play an instrument?” he looked very interested.

“You ask a lot of fuckin questions, cupcake.” I sighed lightly, folding a pair of pants. “I play guitar and piano, and i dont write. But i do sing.”

“Maybe i can write something for you?” He smiled, blushing lightly. “I know how to write music, and i write literature as well.” his shoulders tensed up and he looked down then back up.

“Yo, that’d be pretty sick.” I grabbed all the now folded shirts and opened the dresser already placed in the room. I opened the drawer that demyan was sleeping in and put the shirts around him so he could sleep on something soft, the closed it but left it cracked a bit.

“Uhm, what?” Valentine tilted his head with a blank stare.

“I’d sing somethin you wrote.” I paused, then smirked. “If its good ya know.”

Valentine seemed to glow with a bright ray as he bounced up onto his feet. “Deal!”

“D-Deal?” I stuttered, stepping back from his sudden springe. “I’ll write you a song! Challenge accepted!” his bright smile turned wicked fast, “But, lets make a bet?”

“Oh?” I stepped up to him, crossing my arms and leaning my head down closer to him. “Whats this deal involve?” i cocked my head to the side, eyeing him up again. Something about this kid smelled nice too. He smelled like something sweet, maybe its his cologne or his shampoo and soap. Either way, he smelled delicious.

“If i win, I get to dress you as a model!” He started to blush then stood up straight to meet my stare.

“So imma be yer play thing?” I asked. Something about this kid was off. I could almost smell it.

“I didn’t say that, but maybe.” He sounded cocky yet shy.

“Aight, cupcake.” I stood up straight. “You win, ill let ya dress me and i’ll perform the song for ya in front of an audience.”

“What?” he sounded shocked.

“Ya heard me. Ill perform in an outfit you give me.” stepping closer to him, making him walk backwards until his back hit the wall. “If i win, you do whatever i say ok?”

Valentine looked at the wall then back up at me. “What does you winning intell?” he cocked his head.

“Means the song you wrote aint for me. I can’t sing it.” I put my palm against the wall beside his head. “And if i cant sing it, i don’t like it. Means a lose cupcake. Then you'll do what i ask ya too.” Valentine looked at my hand then back to me. “Deal?” I smirked wickedly.

Valentine took a moment before he responded. “Deal.” He stuck his hand out.

“Aight.” I took his hand in mine with a tight grip. “Good luck, Rubylocks.” letting his hand go, i backed up and went back to putting my shit away

“Rubylocks?” Valentine repeated me. “You can call me, Val.” he crossed his arms and cocked his hips to the side. “Whats with cupcake too?”

“Your hair.” I pointed at his head. “Your hair reminds me of a red velvet cupcake. So cupcake for short.” Val looked startled and embarrassed by that. “Is it dyed?”

“My hair? No its natural.” He puffed his cheeks.

“Ah cool.” I paused for a second, “I like it, its a nice color on ya.” I put up all my clothes then went about finding a place to put all of my photography equipment.

“What do i call you?” Valentine asked, hanging out on his side of the room.

“Whatever ya want.” i stood up and grabbed spare boxes and moved them to the corner.

“Ill call you Adri then.” he sounded chipper.

I looked over my shoulder at him and stared for a moment. Laughing through my nose i went back to my business. “Whatever suits ya, man.”

Most of the rest of the day, as Val helped me unpack even if i told him not too, we talked about our interests and what classes we had. We figured out that we had quite a few classes together. Wasn’t that shocking we’re both in the same kind of department. Val was wearing my ass out, in what felt like a good way, kid was really talkative and friendly. He was kinda humorous to be around. I got up from the desk in the room and leaned against the dresser, letting demyan crawl into my pocket as i shifted through my clothes to find my cigarettes.

“Imma head out for a bit.” I stuffed the small box into the back pocket of my pants.

“Its late, and we have a curfew.” Val looked at the clock. “Where are you going?”

“I like bein out at night. Plus i need to smoke, and i cant do that here. Id get my ass in deep shit if they caught me.” I walked to the door and opened it, “We’ll hang tomorrow. Shop for the room if ya want.”

“Oh, ok sounds like a plan.” Val sounded happy about that.

“Ill be back eventually.” I waved him off and walked out into the hallway and took the stairs down and out into the night environment. I walked around a corner and into an alleyway between the dorm buildings and leaned against the wall, pulling my cigarettes and lighter, looking around for any on lookers. “You can come out.”

Demyan shuffled around in my pocket and crawled out and down my pant’s leg onto the ground where he turned into his human form, this time with clothes on. He stretched his arms behind his head, baring his slightly exposed back to me. Demyan turned to face me where i could get a good look at him. He wore a short yet loose black jacket over what looked light a form fitting longsleeved crop top that barely covered his chest with a gold choker with deep red gems around his neck, going down to have a gold sash holding up his poofy black pants that cinched at his calves with tights around his legs that left him bare footed.

“That was indeed a much needed stretch.” he said as he stood with his hands on his hips. “You have an interesting roommate.”

“He talks a lot.” I put the cigarette in my mouth and lit it. “Think you can stay outta sight?” “I believe that i can.” he brought his hand up to play at the choker around his neck. “Did you notice anything new about yourself?” he had an evil smirk on his lips.

“What?” i asked, speaking while holding the cigarette between my lips.

“You know what I am referring to.” he stepped closer to me, his body covered in shadows while his amber eyes stood out in the darkness. “Your sense of smell. It is stronger now,” He cocked his head. “Your smell is more sensitive now, thus meaning you can smell better.”

I pulled the cigarette from my lips and blew out the smoke away from Demyan. “Is that why i can smell this smoke so much more?”

“Yes, that and Valentine. You could smell it too, could you not? How sweet he smelled, and how warm?” he exposed his sharp fangs. “You can sense heat now as well from warm-blooded creatures.” his lips curled to that smirk of his, “you can see better now yes? Even hear better now?”

“I haven’t noticed that yet.” I put the cigarette back in my mouth and took a long drag.

“You will, hopefully. It is apart of your new powers.” he sounded proud. “It is just a common side effect you will have, now that you are in contract with me.”

“Am i gonna turn into a vampire?” I asked blowing out the smoke in front of him.

With a simple wave of his hand, “Not exactly. You have vampire bat like qualities now, and when i show you how to use your powers. You could argue that it is vampire like.”

“When are ya gonna teach me?” I raised my brow at him, “Do i have to spin and twirl and some shit?”

“Possibly, that depends.” he chuckled wickedly. “You will learn soon, my pup. I will be getting in touch with a friend of mine. He and his human will help teach you.”

“You have friends?” I laughed.

“I do. I have friends in dark places, Adrian.” He stepped closer to me, and held my chin up, “Some i advise you to respect, become friendly with, some even to be scared of….and when you meet those types, you will know when, I advise you…” he paused, “Listen carefully to me, when you do meet them….Run.”

“Why should i fuckin run?” I snarled at him.

“Oh my pup.” he cooed softly yet dark. “Your fangs, they are too small. You can not face them like you are.” he cupped my face with his hands, that felt so cold yet so comforting and strong. “They have strong bonds, but, if you stay with me and you listen to me, do as I say.” he smiled what could have looked soft if it were not for his piercing, spine chilling eyes staring at me, “we will be strong. Maybe unbreakable someday. But you must bond with me, do not fight me, pup.”

Pulling out of his hold, “Whatever.” I finished my cigarette and dropped it, putting it out with my foot. “So is your friend a vampire bat too?”

“Ah there are some like me, they are family members.” he backed up, “But not all of us are the same. My friend, he is a wolf. His human has powers that of a werewolf.”

“Are you all some kind of fairy-tale fuckin creatures?” I slumped my shoulders, looking at Demyan dumbfounded.

“No, we...My kind, is not your so called fairy-tales.” He paused and chuckled, “We are the creatures you humans think you made up. But we take form as an animal that closely resembles it.” he jutted his finger towards me, “Now you humans. You are the mythical creature you think are false. You Adrian, my pup, are a vampire.” He smiled innocently and put his hand on his chest. “I am but an innocent vampire Bat.” He put so much emphasis on the word bat.

“And these so called, ‘heros’, are the mythical as well?” I rolled my eyes at him.

“They are more so just like their partner.” he crossed his arms. “So say a human meets a cat. They would get the abilities of a cat and look somewhat like one. Ears and a tail, all those likes.”

“So why the fuck do i not have wings?” I raised my brow to Demyan.

“My pup, Do i look like i have wings attached to my back?” Demyan had a tone of voice that sounded like he had a bad taste in his mouth from my question.

“You turn into a bat.” I said mockingly, “you turn into a human whos naked the first time and now clothed.” i started waving my hand around flamboyantly “the fuck i know, you could sprout bat wings on your butt for all i fuckin know.”

“That seems unpractical, but believe what you will.” he shrugged. “You should get back to your room. It is late, and as much as you are a creature of the night. You need sleep.”

Clicking my tongue, I walked past him out of the alleyway, “And you?”

“I am going to get my dinner and meet some of my friends.” He flashed his teeth at me.

“....Don’t go killin no one okay?” i looked at him concerned. Would Demyan actually kill a human because he wanted dinner? “I do not feed often in my human form.” he turned his back to me, “Leave the window by your bed cracked open, I shall return.”

“You promise?” I asked, turning away from him.

“We are connected now, I will not be gone for long.” he started to walk away. “I will give you a full understanding of who i am and all at another time. Good night Adrian.”

“Yeah yeah.” I waved him off and made my way back to my dorm. I quietly opened the door to not wake Val up, if he was asleep. I popped my head in.

“Well, you're late!” Val was sitting cross legged on his bed, wearing a loose shirt and shorts. “Does it take you awhile to smoke?”

“I was walkin too.” I came in and shut the door, “Can a guy not go on a walk?” I walked over to my bed and sat down taking my shoes off.

“Are you not going to shower?” he asked. Taking his hair down from his bun and shaking his head lightly.

I watched his hair cascade down onto his shoulders and past. His hair really did look nice on his pale skin with his blue eyes.

“Ill shower in the mornin.” I stood up and pulled my shirt off and started to pull my pants down, but heaved them right back up as i felt the metal chain along my hips.

“Why are you stripping!?” Val shouted, then covered his mouth.

“Shhhhhh!!” I hissed through my teeth. “I aint strippin. I dont like sleepin with a shirt on and my pants were bunched up and fuckin my junk.”

“Ah, oh. Sorry.” He blushed, then quickly crawled under his covers. “Good night, Adrian!”

“Night, cupcake.” I crawled onto the bed, leaning over to crack the window open then plugging my earbuds into my phone and put them in my ears, while getting under the covers. I turned onto my side facing the wall so my back was to valentine. Tomorrow was probably going to be a long day. Demyan will hopefully tell me more about what i sold my life into and actually teach me something. I hope the...person...he’s going to get to teach me isnt an asshole like Demyan is.

#roommateofmyimagination #Adrian Howell #OC #OC story

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