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yourlocalshittywriter · 3 years

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The Duty of a Hero

Author’s Note: Howdy folks! I’m here with my first proper fic and I really hope that y’all like it! This will be exploring what could’ve happened if the Dabi that Aizawa fought wasn’t one of Twice’s clones. Since this is a fight, I advise the folks that are sensitive to things like that to click off and read another fic. Also, since this story does change scenery and moods a bit, I included some songs that change along with the the stories mood! This is mainly just because I like showing off my music taste and shit. Here’s Part 2!

Songs to Go Along: The Fighter by In This Moment, Acid Bubble by Alice In Chains, The Great Gig In The Sky by Pink Floyd

I felt extremely at peace for once in life. I felt the normal crackling of my joints silence into a warm nothingness. My aching muscles that had been torn to shreds time and time again, the ones that had been strained and stretched beyond the limits of the human body seemed to reform perfectly as they melted into the rest of my numb form. My skin, a forest of calluses, scars, stitches, and open wounds felt as if it was no longer there. I was no longer confined to the space of my body, and instead moved around as freely as water or air. I was a sort of goo, unmoving, stationary, simple, yet free.

With a quirk as self-destructive as mine, becoming a hero was a sort of death wish. My quirk was known as “pain transfer.” Anytime I made eye contact with a person, I could activate my quirk and subject myself to pain only to have them suffer the pain of the injury for as long as I was looking at them. I could also transfer existing pain to my target. Although I may have had a wicked high pain tolerance and quick recovery period, my humanity was bound to catch up to me eventually. Quirks like mine, “villainous quirks” according to most people, should be kept hidden and the people born with them should go on to live normal lives as ordinary civilians. My parents were among these people. When I told them that I was enrolling in the hero course at UA, I was given the choice to either become a hero and be disowned, or ditch my pipe dream and stay their beloved child. I packed my things that night.

It was a miracle that I passed the entrance exam the next day. I was running on little sleep, the loss of my financial support, and the trauma that came with the realization that your parents didn’t love you anymore because you didn’t live in a way that they approved of. I had trained since my will to become a hero first arrived, a sort of passionate drive that crashed into my life so unexpectedly that the impact nearly gave me whiplash.

I supposed that that inferno of, what? Spite? No, not spite, something deeper, hotter, and more righteous than spite. Let’s say ardor. This ardor was what drove me to take out as many robots as I could, despite the fact that my quirk was utterly useless in this situation. I took out a decent amount of robots, at least, decent enough to get into the hero course. A lady by the name of Recovery Girl healed me before I went on my way. I thought that I just had a few scrapes and bruises, but apparently I had a broken wrist. Surprisingly, I wasn’t the worst-off there, some poor kid broke both of his arms and one of his legs.

The time between this moment and when I got into UA seems to have flown by. I came into UA, a semi-blank canvas, and now here I was, bleeding out on the campsite that I planned to spend my summer at with my classmates. Dying feels far less painful than one would assume; you really don’t even realize that you’re dying at first. It’s sort of like that feeling you get after eating a warm meal after starving for so long, sickening at first, but comforting after you grow used to it. It’s like taking a hot bath after spending a day in the snow; it burns at first, but the burning subsides into a comforting numbness. Your senses slowly dull into nothingness but your brain is left to conjure whatever image it pleases. I could have seen dead relatives, met idols, or even pictured an alternate life where my parents still loved me, but I didn’t.

I didn’t want it. Fame, fortune, admiration, acceptance, rebirth, none of it. I wanted none of it. I wanted to live. I wanted to do what I swore to do as soon as I got into UA. I wanted what I signed up for when I packed my bags and left my parents’ house at age fourteen. I wanted what I fought tooth and nail for. I wanted my ambitions and goals fulfilled.

Of course I wanted what I had worked for, that was beyond obvious, however, I also wanted the small things in life. I wanted my afternoon tea with Yaoyorozu, Sato, and Todoroki. I wanted my fashion shows with Aoyama, Ashido, and Hagakure. I wanted my midnight conversations with Shinsou and Tokoyami. I wanted my video game sessions with Kaminari and Sero. I wanted my morning meditation meetings with Shoji, Ojiro, and Koda. I wanted to watch pro-wrestling with Bakugou and Kirishima. I wanted to train with Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya. I wanted to swim with Asui. I wanted to listen to music with Jiro and Mr. Present Mic. I wanted inappropriate jokes with Ms. Midnight. I wanted to make Mr. Aizawa proud; I wanted to make myself proud. So, with so many incredible things to live for, I opened my eyes, and attempted to move.

Much to my distaste, it turns out that my relief from pain, as well as the disassociation from my body was nothing more than a thin veil that was easily permeated as I rose from near death. The forest was nothing more than a verdant blur, one that was far from easy to navigate. However, all things end eventually, so I decided to run from death and wherever I ended up would be the least of my worries. I sprinted through the disorder and dysfunction, and wound up walking in on my teacher fighting the son of a bitch who had left me to die a lonely death with only the company of insects and whatever plants were to take over my wilting corpse.

As Mr. Aizawa tackled the cremation villain, I rose from the forest, stared at the man in restraints, and activated my quirk. As the pain transferred from me to him, I felt the veil of insensibility slip over me once more. The villain howled out in agony, the very agony that he had inflicted on me only minutes before.

“Whatever you do, don’t break your gaze Eraserhead!” I chimed as I finally straightened my form, not wanting the hero to see me in such a state, “You’ll just have to trust me on this one!” Mr. Aizawa nodded, keeping a steady gaze on his target.

“Tried to kill me off?” I snarled as I made my way towards the sadistic bastard and beloved teacher holding him in place.

“You’re supposed to be dead,” the captive growled through gritted teeth, still under an amount of pain that would knock-out any average human. He looked beyond pissed that I survived, as if he took offense to the fact that I didn’t appreciate his work. I waltzed over to him, just far enough from Mr. Aizawa, but just close enough to the charred villain.

“Surprise, I remain,” I cooed, low enough for only the villain to hear. He bared his teeth at me, looking at me as if he were some sort of rabid animal. I wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make fun of the fact that he had been taken down by a high schooler and their teacher, but I knew that it was never good to brag, because Karma would usually come to bite you in the ass for it.

I stared at the man covered in staples, every blink I took releasing him from the effects of my quirk. Every blink motivated me to continue staring at him, to immobilize him so Mr. Aizawa could use his eye drops or blink, to buy him some time. However, I knew that this game of “pass the villain” could only go on for so long. Something had to be done. Eventually, the patchwork villain would catch both of us off guard and use his quirk, or one of his buddies would come and back him up. Mr. Aizawa and I were miles away from my peers or the rest of the pro-heroes. It was just the two of us up against this villain, and we were growing tired.

Only minutes after the realization had struck me, the villain escaped from Mr. Aizawa’s scarf when the two of us accidentally blinked at the same time. The human crematorium stood before us, and before I could use my quirk to disable him, he shot out a flurry of blue flames my way.

I dodged this attack as Mr. Aizawa ran towards the villain, yelling out the name “Dabi.” Before Mr. Aizawa was able to restrain him, Dabi grabbed the erasure hero and threw him headfirst into a brick wall, effectively knocking him out. I desperately wanted to check on my partner in battle, but I knew that I couldn’t let my guard down, because now Dabi was staring me directly in the eye.

I could attempt to charge at him, but I would be charred to bits, and even if I somehow managed to avoid his flames, I would meet the same fate as Eraserhead, knocked out and at Dabi’s mercy. I was screwed, I had no back up, my teacher was unconscious, and I was face to face with one of Japan’s most notorious criminals. I was dead meat.

That was until I devised a plan, one that would take out the cremation villain for good. One that would end his reign of terror once and for all. However, there was only one downside to this plan, and that was the fact that this plan would result in two casualties, Dabi and me. However, if I went with any other plan, Mr. Aizawa and I were to become the victims while Dabi walked off scot free.

I was destined to become a martyr.

With that realization, I turned to my teacher who was slowly coming to his senses and gave him a gentle smile,

“Eraserhead, it has truly been a pleasure,” I announced as Dabi’s arrogant gaze turned to one of confusion. As Mr. Aizawa slowly faded back into his previously comatose state before he had time to be confused, I focused my gaze back on the blue-flamed bastard. It was time to end it, to end his rule once and for all.

I reached into my pocket, grabbed a tiny weapon that fit perfectly in my hand, locked eyes with the villain, smirked, and painlessly slit my neck. As Dabi grasped his neck and choked on his unseen blood, which was truly my blood, he fell to his knees.

As I took what I knew were my last steps, I came face to face with the first half to my murder-suicide. He glared at me, an amalgam of agony that felt nothing at all, and snarled.

“I’ll see you in hell, you cunt.”

I laughed, of all the things he could’ve chosen to be his final words, he chose to give into the childish desire to have the last word with me. As his oddly-familiar eyes drained of life, I felt the pain I had so carelessly inflicted upon myself finally hit me like a freight train.

I began to choke as I fell to my knees, similarly to how Dabi had fallen only seconds before. I knew that my time was up soon, I would succumb to my injuries and lose the thing I had fought tooth and nail for only moments before. I looked to the horizon to find the sun casting his loving gaze upon my battered body. It was as if Apollo himself was granting me a warrior’s death, like he knew I had made some kind of a righteous sacrifice that warranted a soothing transition from death to afterlife.

The sunrise was something like I had never seen before. The blues burned brighter than the flames I had defeated minutes before, the yellow pooled around my weary being like an evening gown to a death dance, and the red painted a comforting scene in the clouds, as if to distract me from my own red that painted my body and the ground around me. I smiled my final smile as I walked into the loving embrace of the sun.

My duty as a hero had been fulfilled.

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skzfelixity · 3 years

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Being A Counter | The Uncanny Counter

Just moments and life with the counters because you deserve a non-blood related family like this one💕

You were the 4th one to join the squad, if you count Cheoljung out.

Your spirit guided you to eonni’s noodles and you were more than confused.

“Do I have to work at a restaurant?”, “Oh wait- you want me to eat, how thoughtful of you!”

“Just go inside!”

Your spirit was annoyed to say the least.

“We’re closed-”

They didn’t expect to see you so soon since their own spirits informed them about a new member an hour ago.

Ms Chu welcomed you with a warm hug, Hana with a nod and Motak kept eyeing you suspiciously.

“Does your spirit need glasses?”

Ms Chu glared at Motak’s remark about your spirit picking you.

Don’t take it personally, it’s literally Motak being Motak at first sight.

After some explaining of what the counters do, you were asked to join them and you didn’t hesitate to immediately accept.

Your instant response startled Ms Chu, earning a chuckle from Motak.

“What are you so surprised for? If she didn’t accept, she would die.”

“She might die doing this job too.”

It was literally a situation of instant death or possible death.

Let’s go with possible death for now.

Oh well, what’s cooler than saving people’s souls anyways?

All four of you grew closer mission after mission.

Even though Hana was still cold and distant, you found yourselves getting along pretty well. Training together almost every day.

Motak became like a father to you.

He no longer had this intimidating aura, from your point of view.

His mean remarks were more like ‘I care for you so I will tease you’

He cares deeply for all of you but he will never admit it out loud.

Ms Chu would always remind you to eat and stuff like that.

She was like a mother to you and it did radiate a sense of comfort.

She definitely acted like a mother but if you asked her, she would deny it saying she doesn’t care about you and then the next minute she will be asking you about your day etc.

Game nights !!!

Just imagine playing monopoly with them:

Motak going to jail for the 14th time, he was used to putting people in jail after all, whining about it until his turn comes again.

Always gets 5 when he rolls somehow.

“The dice is broken.”

Ms Chu with a lot of money, she definitely did not steal it from the bank when y’all weren’t looking, waving it like a fan in front of her face.

“Where did all this money come from?”

“My pocket?”

Hana laughing more frequently than she did before.

Overall spending time together apart from work was fun.

Strong bonds take time.

You did a pretty good job capturing spirits, maybe because of their low levels but still it wasn’t easy.

Like damn, you lost count of how many times Ms Chu treated your injuries.

Using her power also affected her health but she didn’t even let any of you go without treating even minor injuries.

Got to stop her once by saying, “We need a mom for the group.”

She at least knows you see her as a mother and that makes her beyond happy.

She wouldn’t hesitate to reduce her lifespan for all of you<3

One day you were all eating noodles when an idea popped in your head.

“Why don’t we wear matching clothes when we go on missions?”

No one seemed against it, Motak liking it a lot.

You did fight over the colour though:

You wanted red, he wanted grey.

You ended up getting both.

Soon enough, the day that you didn’t manage to catch an evil spirit came, following the death of Jang Cheoljung.

His spirit, Wigen, found another person to become a counter.

Aaaaand your 5th member joined you.

He wasn’t as quick as you to agree but what can you say? It was live or die for him.

So Mun, a high school boy living with his grandparents.

He didn’t seem promising at first but he proved his potential soon afterwards.

You had to save his ass because he was always in trouble.

Episode 10 can’t happen, you kept him in check.

Time proved that something you missed in your bond was So Mun, the team felt complete with him.

He is the baby of the squad, everyone worries about him 24/7.

Sometimes you would just mess with him for absolutely no reason.

Car rides after a mission always go like:

“Can I rest my head on your shoulder?”

and So Mun falling asleep a few minutes later, with all his weight pressed on you.

You trying to stay comfortable while not touching Hana.

“Touch me and I will kill you.”

You heard it once and you both knew, you didn’t need to hear it again.

The sun is up after a mission? Ice cream.

Eat all you want Jangmul is paying.

The moon is up after a mission? Meat/Noodles.

Missions increased, introducing So Mun to the grey jackets and trousers.

I feel like red would still be his fave ones though.

“Oh Ms Chu, it matches with your hair!”

*smack* poor So Mun.

Working on the restaurant:

You, Hana & Mun serving while Motak and Ms Chu cooked.

Honestly? It was a mess.

Mun constantly dumping into either you or Hana, stepping on your feet from time to time.

Some customers being scared of Hana because of her face, choking on their food every time she passed by.

Zoning out while watching TV was a regular for you and Mun, it happened to Hana too though.

Ms Chu calling you three to take the bowls, no one knew she could yell that loud. Motak often joining you in serving just to not hear her getting ignored.

Whenever high school boys came to eat, you could feel Motak’s glare from inside the kitchen.

“So Mun, tell them to leave.”

Poor Ms Chu had to hear Motak complain about high school boys’ poor mannerisms.

He doesn’t want you around boys, you’re too young for that.

That one time you broke a table, oh man.

“Oops?”

Ms Chu was furious, Motak laughing at the customers’ faces.

Had to clean the huge mess, So Mun offering to help.

You and So Mun? Besties.

You went to school together every morning, same class.

You two, Ungmin and Juyeon spent almost every break together, eating snacks and making fun of each other.

Always made sure to hide you when Hyeoku was around, he just knew this certain bully had a crush on you.

One time, he noticed Hyeoku making his way to your table holding some sort of candy. He immediately dragged you away.

Ended up looking at a wall, Mun claiming he wanted to admire the red and brown bricks with you.

He just doesn’t want you around Hyeoku because he is dangerous, no other reason:)

Having dinner at his house? At least once a week.

His grandparents obviously adored you. His grandma being able to recognise and remember you, well most of the time.

His grandpa’s jokes about you two becoming a couple, never failed to make you smile. His grandma complimenting you with the sweetest grin on her face.

Sleepovers happened a lot, usually falling asleep while discussing about evil spirits and all.

Hana warmed up to the team more. She started seeing you and Mun as her younger siblings, always taking care of you and looking out for you in her own way.

You were all cleaning one day when Jangmul stormed into the store.

“What do you spend all this money on?!”

Long story short: Motak, You and So Mun were guilty for spending too much on your stomach needs.

“All this money for food?!”

He wasn’t that mad, he just thought y’all bought a house and didn’t tell him beforehand. Motak threw him a bag of chips to calm him down.

Yep, Jangmul ate them all.

“You want to eat the bag too?”

A lot of dancing, especially when in a good mood during shifts.

Of course So Mun tripped countless times, wdym.

You had each other’s backs, there was no reason to worry.

You were a family and the restaurant was your home.

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cloudy-minded-idiot · 3 years

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mentor

pairing: platonic Natasha Romanoff x reader

warnings: none

word count: ~ 1,900

a/n: a big thank you to the lovely @witchyredfoxes who requested this! I hope you like it!

summary: you’re new to the avengers and Natasha takes you under her wing.

You had never felt this tired before in your entire life. Out of breath and disgustingly sweaty, you forced yourself to throw another punch at the dummy, ignoring the way your aching muscles protested against every move you made. You needed to do this. The dummy rocked back with the force of your punch and snapped back surprisingly fast. Too fast. Your exhausted senses registered the threat far too late and the plastic head of the dummy hit your face with full force. Caught off guard, you stumbled and fell down on the mat.

Groaning, you rubbed at your nose, glad that your hand came back without any blood. It still hurt like hell though. Closing your eyes against the pain, you hit your fist against the ground in frustration and used your other arm to hide your face in the crook of your elbow. Maybe you could just lay down here for a while. Just wallow in your shame where no one else would find you. The blue mats were surprisingly comfortable. But that might just be your tiredness speaking.

“You know you have a perfectly good room upstairs, right?”

Spooked, you scrambled to your feet as fast as you could, heart beating wildly in your chest and eyes wide as saucers as you stared dumbly at the newcomer in the gym. You knew who she was. Of course, you did. She was basically a legend among the SHIELD agents and a renowned superhero. The Black Widow smirked at your reaction; her arms crossed over her chest as she leaned against the wall. She was glad in her famous black mission outfit, red hair pulled back in a messy bun and face dirty. You had heard that she was gone on a special operation when you had been first introduced to the other superheroes a few days ago, so her attire came as no surprise. She must be fresh off of her mission.

After few seconds of openly gaping at her, you realized you should probably say something too.

“I do know. I just thought I should get some more training in.”

She raised an eyebrow, eyes darting to the clock on the wall.

“A bit late for that, don’t you think? Not even Steve trains at these hours anymore.”

For a moment you marvelled at the way she so casually referred to Captain fricking America as 'Steve'. Honestly, the friendly way they all treated each other and how close they were was the thing that has surprised you most since you first met the team of heroes. When your instructor told you about the Avengers Initiative, you had imagined a team that only worked together on a professional basis, always keeping a distance, following strict orders. But it was much more casual and less hierarchical than you thought. They joked together, watched movies, had drinks. It seemed nice. You really hoped you could be a part of this someday.

You cleared your throat, shrugging at the agent's previous statement.

“He’s actually the reason why I'm here. Mr. Rogers gave me some pointers on what I should improve during training earlier. I thought it was best to get a head start.”

The Black Widow smiled in amusement, shaking her head at you. Forwning, you went over your words again to find out what she could possibly find amusing about them. But before you could overthink it any more, the redhead pushed herself away from the wall and approached you. Her steps were sure, her gaze never left you.

It felt like she was appraising you, so you did your best to stand up straighter, hid your tiredness and kept a neutral look on your face. She stopped a couple of feet away.

“You know, your superiors warned us about you, Y/L/N.”

Her statement made you nervous, but you forced yourself to not let it show. Her light-hearted tone suggested that she didn’t mean to cause you anxiety.

“He said you were hard-working, insufferably so even. Dedicated and driven to the point of negligence when it came to your own needs. I’m inclined to agree from what little I know of you.”

You opened your mouth to defend yourself somehow, but she cut you off with one simple motion of her hand. She flashed you a reassuring smile, making sure to let you know that she did not mean to offend. You relaxed a little, keeping your mouth shut.

“Your superior also said you were a damn fine agent. The best that he has,” she took another step closer, laying one hand on your shoulder in comfort, “And I promise that despite your obvious worries, you will make an even better Avenger. There’s no need to double-guess and overwork yourself.”

Her word made it clear to you that she had seen right through you and recognized the motives for your late-night training sessions. You really had thought you were concealing your emotions pretty well. But then again, she was a master spy. Your shoulders sagged as you let out a defeated sigh, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than before.

“It's just...I really want this to work out and I feel like there’s so much I need to improve before I could even begin to be a valuable part of the team. All of you guys are legends, gods, geniuses, and masters of your crafts. It’s intimidating.”

Your admission was met with understanding as the redhead slung an arm around you and slowly steered you away from the training equipment.

“You’re being too hard on yourself. I read your file, even came to watch you train a couple of times at SHIELD.”

Your eyes widen at her revelation, having been previously unaware of that fact. You were sure you would have noticed her in the training room.

She continued.

“So, I know what I'm talking about when I tell you to stop selling yourself short. You’re already a valuable addition to the team. We wouldn’t have chosen you if you weren’t.”

Her words, surprisingly, did much to calm your anxious mind. The knot that had formed in the pit of your stomach since your arrival at the compound loosened little by little. You flash her a hesitant smile.

“That’s- Thank you. That really helped, Ms. Romanoff.”

She scrunched up her nose at your words, the two of you stopping at the entrance of the gym.

“Please just call me Natasha. Ms. Romanoff makes me feel old. And I'm glad I could be of help,” she nods to the door with a grin, “Now go catch some sleep, you’re barely standing upright.”

You shake your head in agreement, an equally embarrassed and grateful smile on your face. You were almost out the door, when she called your name again, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

“If you really want to improve, I'd suggest training with actual people rather than getting beat up by a plastic dummy.”

You groan, closing your eyes in embarrassment. Could the floor please just open up and swallow you now?

“You saw that?”

She let out a small laugh at your apparent discomfort.

“Don’t feel bad. You picked the most ferocious dummy of all. But I do expect you to put up more of a fight when we train together tomorrow, understood?”

You blinked in surprise.

“You want to train with me?”

“Of course,” she shrugged like the answer was obvious, “You said you had some things you needed to improve. I'm happy to help you. Fair warning though, I’m very competitive and will not go easy on you. So, bring your A-game and go catch some sleep now. You’ll need it.”

You couldn’t keep the giddy smile off of your face if you tried.

“Thank you, Ms- Natasha,” you amended. She acknowledged your thanks with a nod and finally shooed you out of the gym.

The redhead was of great help outside the training rooms as well. Natasha did her best to help you settle in, making sure to include you in conversations, invite you to hangouts, and to scold the boys when they tried to pick on you. She was by far your closest friend and confidant, and with her help, you really got to know your fellow teammates.

Finally, after weeks of rigorous training, it was time for your first mission as an Avenger. You had to admit that you were a bit nervous when the call came in, but you went into working mode pretty fast after the briefing. After all, this wasn’t your first mission ever. As a SHIELD agent, you had been a part of several high-risk operations. Still, this was a very special day for you.

Natasha really hadn't been kidding when she told you she was hard to train with. Every day she pushed you to your limits and you left the gym hurting in places that you never knew could hurt. But she also helped you hone your skills to perfection. With the Black Widow as your mentor, you really could see some great improvements.

Tony was already in the quinjet when you arrived, working on making the plane ready for take-off. Being able to put on his armor in a matter of seconds, it didn’t take long for him to suit up.

“That was fast,” he commented as you came closer, shooting you one of trademark Stark smirks, “But I wouldn’t have expected anything else from you. Nervous about your first mission, rookie? Tell you what, you make it out without needing a visit to the ER afterward and I'll buy you a celebratory drink. Deal?”

You ignore his proffered hand, cocking your head to the side.

“You really think it’s going to go that bad?”

“It’s nothing personal,” he assured you, “Things happen, you're new, it's your first time...You know what? How about instead of a drink, I'll let you take one of my suits for a ride?”

You opened your mouth to reply but were stopped by a familiar voice behind you.

She returned your smile, before turning a glare on the billionaire.

“Don’t listen to him, you’re gonna do fine."

You turned around to smile at Nat as she entered the jet, followed closely by Steve and Wanda.

“And you, stop trying to scare her and get your ass to the pilot seat.”

Tony raised his hands in mock-surrender and walked to the cockpit, muttering something about a mother hen under his breath. Nat squeezed your shoulder, pulling you towards the seats.

“You got everything, right? Your weapons? Comms?”

You rolled your eyes at her worried tone.

“This isn’t my first mission, you know? I'm fine.”

She nodded with a good-natured smile.

“Alright. We’ll still go over the mission details again together. Just to be sure.”

With a sigh, you surrendered to your fate. The flight went by faster than you thought as you rehashed the plan together. Natasha was not satisfied until you were able to recite every step by heart. Which you did, easily. A good thing about her worry was that it took your mind off of your own nervousness. So, once you and the team left the quinjet, you were completely in the zone.

You were joined in the field by Sam and Rhodes, who had flown in on their own and as you got into formation Steve uttered the two words you had been dreaming of hearing addressed to you for a while now.

“Avengers assemble!”

(Tony did end up having to buy you a post-mission drink.)

___________________________________________

taglist: @fireflyglass @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

#natasha romanoff x reader #requests #reader insert #platonic

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simpingfortheages · 3 years

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//JUST 4 WEEKS//

Hiii umm sorry for taking long. I have exams😭 she again is long as fuucckkkk. I hope you enjoy. (still leave requests please)

Prompts requests: 8, 24, 25.

Ms Venable × Fem! Reader.

SMUT PACKED! (Fluff,begging,edging, oversimtimlation, jealousy, dom! Venable, sub! Fem Reader)

Reader is a kind spirit always helping and finding new ways to make friends. A light that attracted every one,even Ms Venable. However she doesn't take it lightly when someone else is trying to take what's hers.

~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~

The dynamic you and Ms Venable had was a peculiar one. In her lovely abode she was an expressive one,the kisses and hugs she would bestow on every exposure of your skin were sacred. The secrets that she would share with you in bed after the passion lovemaking was something you especially loved. She was always vunerable and soft in your presence alone. However, that Ms Venable never found her way into work,even in the workplace when it is both you and her alone.

No way did she show or return any affection to you. It was deemed " unfit and inappropriate" in her words. She was a complete 360, the soft twinkle in her eyes were always replaced with stone hard glares and there was a slight frown took the place of the delicate smile that adorned her plump lips. But you being the caring and loving person you are, you respected her rules and decisions. 1. No kissing 2. No sexual teasing of any kind 3. No joking or laughing... etc etc... basically you both acted like strangers. She didn't care what you did at work with the other employee,she made that quite clear. As long as it doesn't involve her or her reputation. She treated you just like she did any other employee at kineros robotics and that included being scolded and embarrassed infront your other co workers. You however benefited from that, because she would always end up making up for it at home. So yes it was a peculiar dynamic but it was a dynamic you shared with her.

Today was the same old, you kissed your Mina goodbye at home before you went to work in your separate vehicles. Of course she wouldn't mind you riding along side with her. It was just that others would become suspicious and Ms Venable had a stern, don't fuck with her reputation to uphold. You carried out your daily work routine, you clocked in and made your way to the kitchen to make yourself your second cup of coffee. After doing so you took your seat on the chair located near the window which gave you a clear view of the carpark, you liked to see when your Mina came to work in her Purple Honda. Yes she customized it, the links and connections this woman has is mind blowing. "HEYYY Y/N" you jumped at the sudden outburst, it was Jeff and Muff. The twiddle dee and twiddle dumbass who ran the whole Robot operation . Mentally you rolled your eyes at their way of greeting . You then swiftly angled your body to face them. "Yes boys? What do you need" this earned a sly smile to creep up upon both of their faces simultaneously. You couldn't help but scowl at their expressions " what do you need?" You repeated with annoyance and a hint of nervousness. " there is a new girl. She is a sweet little thing"Jeff started off ,all the while grabbing your mug of coffee to sip from it. You made no attempt to stop him because you were too caught up in trying to understanding what his point was. "Okay??? And you are telling me this because???" You yanked the cup of coffee back from Jeff and moved to pour your contaminated drink down the sink . So much for your second cup. "I want you to show her around,you know help her in the emails and files all the dumb shit you do." "Just this time you both will be doing the dumb shit" Mutt finished what Jeff was saying. Damn so basically a trainee. You already knew that you had no choice,these knuckle heads after all were your bosses. " sure yea why not" you mumbled as you washed up your cup and placed back on the rack. Jeff clapped his hands in delight at your response. " Great! so she is already in your office- well it is both of your office now. We kind of needed to split your office but hey I mean you have a roommate now " you closed you eyes and tried to control your temper. They were really starting to grate on your nerves at this point. You didn't even bother to say your departure,you just left the staff kitchen and made you way to your office.

The newbie Chloe wasn't all that bad. She was this preppy,talkative and very affectionate in her interactions. She was this medium height,brown haired girl who always has on perfume that smelt like strawberries . A few weeks passed and you both became quite close, you spent a lot of time helping and getting to know one another, heck you even went "nose blind" to her over bearing starwberry perfume she wore, guess the shared office wasn't so bad. " Fuck!" Chloe exclaimed, your eyes opened wide at her remark,"whoa Chloe what's with the language" you stood up from your chair and walked over to her desk to see what the issue was. "I cannot seem to get the file to open and send to the Main system. I have been like this for 3 fucking days"she cried out, Chloe was almost on the verge of tears. You being the kind person you are, you lowered yourself to her level and wiped her teary eyes. The gesture was one of friendly,it has no romantic intention behind it. " don't cry Chloe,please it's annoying" you got a laugh mixed with a tiny sniffle with that line. "Let me see what I can do" you gently pushed her chair to the side causing her to roll a few feet away. Atleast Chloe was happily giggling, you shot a smile in her direction. You then hovered over her laptop to try and figure out the problem. After a few minutes you managed to not only open the file but you send the attachment files along with it to the main site of log in. All this time Chloe was hovering over you,trying to see what you were doing all the while chewing on her nails out of nervousness.

With a few clicks and dragging the tasks that were done you did it, "annndddd done. See Chloe no need to be such a cry baby" you stated with humor. Chloe shrieked out of happiness and enveloped you in a death grip of a hug. You didn't even have time to react since she basically squeezed all of the air out of you. "Hug me back y/n, for someone who knows how to upload a file you sure are missing a few cells" you rolled your eyes and released an exaggerated exhale. You reciprocated her warm embrace, it did feel nice and comfortable. "BANG BANG BANG" the sound was heard 3 times one after the other. That was a sound you were quite familiar with...but where did you recognise it??. The hug was broken up rather quickly. A loud clearing of someone's throath from the door made you turn your head. FUCK ...the sound was Ms Venable's cane. After seeing who it was,you increased the distance even more between you and Chloe. "Don't you know that this isn't the place for such disgusting acts? Hmm Ms Chloe a simpleton such as yourself still hasn't manage to send me the email as yet. But here you are wasting time, then again what should I expect from someone who is a waste of space themselves. Get the fuck put of my sight." her words were icey and cold. At this point Chloe was furiously trying to wipe away her tears,but they fell faster than she could dry them. She meekly excused herself from the office and slithered pass Ms Venable to probably cry even more in the bathroom. You didn't dare run after Chloe or even move. Your eyes were fixacted on the white tiles of the building floor. Ms Venable said nothing, she just walked away. If it wasn't the sound of her cane clicks becoming softer and distance you wouldn't have known that she left. You knew better though, that her walking away was a sign to for you to follow her. And follow her you did.

You kept a steady pace behind her trying to keep up with her haste movements. The tension was intense, the way she gripped the head of her cane to the slight flare of her nostrils didn't go unnoticed either. You knew that she was upset??... annoyed?? What were you Ms Venable? You pondered. Your train of thought was put to a halt when you heard the thumping of her cane stop. She was currently standing infront her closed wooden office door. No one dared to disturb her when the lock on the door was turned. She was basically worshipped at this Robotic place, she was feared and she knew that. She thrived of the idea, everytime someone were to cower in her presence you'd always noticed the way her eyes darkened, the slight upward tilt of her chin and the more square her shoulders got. And right now that's exactly how she stared at you. She was the predator and you were the prey.

She eyes locked sharply onto yours, but you didn't look away. No, instead you met her gaze with the same confidence. With her left foot tapping her black strapped heels against the floor, followed by the clicking of her neatly manicured nails on the head on her cane. She exhaled exasperatedly and raised both her eyebrows in my direction. She was waiting and she was impatient , she wanted an apology. But you weren't going to give her one, you did nothing wrong. The deep growl that left her lips went striaght to your lower stomach. She angrily and roughly turned the knob of her office door to give access into the oddly cold room. Ms Venable broke eye contact with you and brushed past to enter the room. You almost chuckled out loud at how adorable she was behaving. You mentally shrugged it off and made you way into the room behind her

It all happened so fast, her slender hands were wrapped around your neck as your back was shoved against the door,causing it to be closed and locked with a loud bang. Her face was now mere inches away from yours, the smell of her perfume and heavy minty breathe invades yours sense. It was a euphoric feeling, the way she towered over you and held the firm grip on your neck. " Why are you always with that daft moron?" She seethed though her clenched teeth. "Who? Chloe?" You questioned with feigned confusion. The hold on your neck only got tigher as you said her name. " don't say her disgusting name in my office" she spat, your face broke out in a big toothed smile. The brown colour in her eyes seemed to darken at your reaction,almost as though you were mocking her. “Why are you so jealous?” your smile seemed to get bigger. Ms Venable was taken aback by your statement. She simply scoffed and rolled her eyes. You were determined to make her admit to her jealousy just for the fun of it. "Awww Mina, it's okayyy to be a little jealous. It looks sexy on you" you flashed a wink in her direction. Ms Venable released you from her grip and placed both her hands atop the head of her cane. Her back was now straighten with purpose and superiority, if you weren't romantically involved with her one would say that she was completely unbothered. However,the faltering in her ability to maintain eye contact and the hard clenching of her jaw said otherwise.

"So you are saying that if I were to go after Chloe and comfort her right now ? You wouldn't care because it is IN the workplace right?" You used he own rule against her as you proceeded to push. Ms Venable swallowed hard at your comment. "No. I wouldn't care what you do" the grip on her cane was a lot stronger now,even to the point her knuckles were turning white. "Okay then mina" you spun around and reached for the for handle. Of course you weren't going to comfort Chloe, you just wanted to see how far your Mina will go. Since Wilhelmina was never one to be in touch with her emotions, she wouldn't express it verbally.

You jokingly turned the handle and opened the door. She still didn't stop you,but there was a hint of hurt and sadness that made its way to her face and body language. The way she shoulders hunched over with the subtle upturn of her eyebrows pulled are your heartstrings. She looked so vulnerable. "Aww mina don't do that face, of course I'm not going after her" you closed the door and hurriedly made your way towards her, throwing you arms around her body. The act took her by surprise, but she didn't mind, she mentally smiled that you choose her over Chloe. Ms Venable reciprocated your embrace,one hand rested firmly of her cane whilst the other was securely wrapped around your waist. However it was in a firm grip, as though if she were to left go you'd run away to Chloe. The hug was a warm and loved one, Ms Venable felt comfortable in your hold, the boiling feeling in her blood subsided and replaced with one of calm. She leaned down and nuzzled into the crook of your neck to inhale your perfume or rather the mild scent of the soap that would sometimes linger on your skin. Ms Venable softly inhaled against your neck , the scent of strawberries filled her senses. Her eyes snapped open at the smell, the grip around your waist tightened even more. Ms Venable roughly exhaled through her nose as thought she was trying to expel the ratched smelt that invaded her nasal cavity.You didn't pull away from the hug until a low guteral growl ripped it's way from her throath. The sound went straight to your lower stomach. Ms Venable hated the fact that you reeked of Chloe's nauseating perfume. It was a indication as though you belonged to Chloe and not to her. Ms Venable didn't like that one bit.

" you smell disgusting Y/N the fowl stench on your clothes is polluting my office. Strip" you let out a nervous chuckle at her request. However, Ms Venable kept a straight fact...she was serious. It dawned on you that her words were in fact a demand and not a request. You accepted that you weren't going to win whatever argument that she had planned in her head so you began to slowly strip away your clothes. As you did so she shameless roamed her eyes over your body. You weren't shy, it wasn't the first time she has done so. In fact you liked it,you basked in the idea of her loving your body. That wasn't a lie, she always made sure to express how much she worshiped your body by leaving kisses and marks. It was very intimate of her. You were now half naked standing infront of the lady in purple. Only in your underwear .

Ms Venable took one good look of your body and lowly hmmed in approval. You preened at her reaction, your heart basically swole at her acknowledgment. Ms Venable broke her admiration on your figure and made her way to another door. A door that you never knew existed, it was a wooden door with a varnished finishing although it was pretty, it didn't quite go with the aesthetic of the room. You were never really allowed in her office since she basically ignored your existence. You walked behind her, following in her steps. "Pick up your clothes y/n ,you aren't an animal" a loud huff escaped your lips almost as though you were insulted. You assembled the articles of your garment and folded it neatly. Ms Venable was already in the other room waiting for you. You swallowed thickly trying to suppress the nervousness that arised in your throath. As you entered the room you were in awe. Ms Venable basically had a whole bedroom. A queen size bed with silk sheets,a whole closet too that was walk in. The walls were white and accompanied in the cold atmosphere was a mild yet soothing lavender scent.

*SLAM* Ms Venable shut the door. You junked and spun around to meet her list gaze. The coldness in the room made goosebumps arrise on your skin, the sharp look she gave you had you feeling like a prey being stalked. Ms Venable was the predator and you have just been corner. She was hungry...very hungry. One of her hands gently pulled away from the surface of the door as she strutted towards you in a slow much dangerous manner. Out of reflex you backed away from her. Every one step she took you took two. As you stepped back you ran out of space, the back if your legs made contact with something hard. A small sqeak of surprise made its way pass your slightly parted lips. When you turned around you saw that it was the lower part of the bed frame. At the point Ms Venable was towering over your small frame. The closeness of her proximity got you feeling flustered, "who do you belong too?" She sneered. Feeling already small and intimated "you" she tilted her chin upwards but still didn't break eye contact with you. With a neatly manicured hand, she rested it on you chest and shoved you roughly on the silk bed. The impact was rough yet gently. Ms Venable didn't move from the foot of the bed, instead she just stared at you. " you're so fucking hot when you're mad" you said as you broke the thick atmosphere. She raised an eyebrow at your bold response. She didn't waste any time walking over to the side table and receiving something. You tried to sit up to see what it was, only for Ms Venable to snap at you to remain lying down. You had no choice but to obey, you kept your eyes glued to the ceiling waiting in suspense of what Ms Venable had up her sleeve. The empty space on the bed beside you sank as it was your mina who occupied it, you turned your face only to be met with her wicked grin. Based on that expression alone you knew that you were going to pay.

"Are you going to apologise?" She focused her gaze onto me even harder. Your reply was a confident shake of the head. It seemed as thought that was the reply Ms Venable wanted. " What's the safe word?" She asked gently, her voice was soft and inviting. "Fire" you replied , you were excited for the unknown. You never know what way she was going to punish you, but each time it correlated to what she thought you did wrong. It was quite clever and not really unexpected from a woman such as herself. Ms Venable made a casual gesture for you to turn over onto your side. That's weird you thought, you thought she was going to punish you. You didn't mind cuddling with your girlfriend, instead you smiled put of glee and turned to your side, awaiting for your mina to spoon you. You snuggled in closer to your girlfriend. The soothing breathing of your Mina in your right ear was ticklish, almost as if it were sending electrical shocks to your core, she noticed the way you got fidgety but didn't say anything, instead she bite down on the shell of your ear and released low growls. At this point your eyes were screwed tightly and you were trying to control your breathing. Unknowingly you arched your back against your girlfriend. The small act of her pressed on your body and the attention you were getting was too overwhelming. You needed her and she knew it. An uncontrolled whisper left you parted lips," shhh baby i know, I'm only now starting, just close your eyes." Your heart rate was bearing so loud and fast at the moment. You listened to her and closed your eyes, you trusted your Mina. As you did so you felt her knee wedge it's away between your thighs, although it wasn't high enough for you to grind your needy core against. Your eyes snapped open in furstation. " Y/N I said to close your eyes. If you don't listen I will leave you alone" she demanded with a rough tone. You barely even made time to turn your head backwards to face her. You listened to her threat and took it seriously, you closed your eyes tighter this time and awaited for her actions. "Hmmm good girl" she mummered against your ear. You glowed under her comment.

Suddenly you felt her arm drape across your stomach, your breath hitched as she took the time to drag circles along your skin. Her hand progressively got lower and lower to where you needed it most. Your body was a map and Ms Venable had it memorized. She knew all the ways to make you whimper and beg for her. As she reached the place you needed her most, a low sound almost a hum filled the thick lust atmosphere. You desperately fought against wanting to break her rule and see what it was. The suspense of whatever she was holding quickly left you mind when a feeling of pleasure and attention was bestowed upon your covered clit. The agonising slow motion of her circling your throbbing clit, Ms Venable pressed small delicate kisses on the side of your face while slowly torturing you. " mina.. more plea-se" you whimpered, even without having to open your eyes, you knew you smirked at that request. Ms Venable cocked a button on the vibrator and increased the speed. Although ypur eyes we closed, at this point your eyes rolled back to the back of your head. The 2nd speed was a lot more stimulating, her patterns of circles on your clit was now faster. There was currently a wet patch created by Ms Venable on your underwear. As she continued her task of pleasuring you, a feeling of tightness made its way to your lowered stomach. " oh fuck mina- mina can I cum?" You didn't get a reply instead she turned the speed up a little more, your body twisted in both pain and pleasure, at this point the slick you produced was running down on her once cleaned sheets. Ms Venable loved whenever you did that, it remains her how much of a filthy slut you are, but more importantly you were hers and not Chloe's. She was famed to let you forget. She knew your body better than you as you were about to go over the edge Ms Venable pulled the vibrator away.

"MINA what the - " you stopped mid sentence to swallow and catch your breathe" what the fuck i didn't cum" you finished your complaint in annoyance and sexual frustration. You tried to close your legs to rub your thighs together for any relief but Ms Venable raised her thigh higher and pressed it against your senstive clit as a warning against doing that. A whimper and a whine emitted from you. "Oh fuck please mina more..." her thigh was still raised high and in contact with your clit . Out of reflex you started to grind on her, however she didn't stop this action. You were trying to chase your high that she she rudely denied a few seconds ago. After a minute of two of trying to cum the feeling of tightness made its way to your lower stomach once again. Your movements were sloppier, faster and more desperate this time. Ms Venable pressed her leg further up and rough weigh cause your hand of attach itself to her knee that was currently wedge between your thighs. You didn't know if to push her leg sweety or pull it closer to your needy pussy. " ah- oh fuck yes" you cried out, your high was approaching. A few more grinding and you would be over the edge. Ms Venable leaned closer into your ear, the warm breathe of her words tickled you" did you think it'd be so easy?" with those cursed words she pulled her thigh lower and away from your clit. You didn't bother to hide your frustration, you were almost on the verge of tears. "Mina please please let me cum for you, I will only cum for you" you begged but your pleas feel onto deaf ears. She hummed in feign acknowledgement as she reached from your now ruined underwear. You realised what her intentions are, so you helped her to removed your underwear but kicking it down your legs. Ms Venable was faster though , she removed and placed back her leg between your thighs before they could have even closed.

The cursed yet blessed sound of the vibrator filled your ears. You were eager yet you dreaded the fact that she was going to deny you for a 3rd time. She lowered the vibrator to your entrance to gather more slick, after doing so she began to trace figures eights and circles on your clit. Your body jumped and tried to move away from the vibrator but with Ms Venable firmly pressed against your back, that was not possible, " shh baby it's okay, shh I'm right here. " she cooed into your ear. Your bottom lip wobbled from the intense pleasure and pain overtaking your body at the moment. Your 3rd orgasm was building but you were determined to cum. "Oh fuck Mina please I am sorry you win i will- I will -oh fuck yes more !-i will. Never talk to her again. Just Please plea-se let me cum" you no longer tried to fight her down, you apologised hoping that she would let you cum. "Aww baby did you think by saying sorry I'd let you cum? you were oh so very wrong." She punctuated the sentence with her biting down on the shell of my air. Inciting further pain, but the thrill of being denied was even greater. She held the vibrator against your clit pushing it down and rubbing it as a fast paste, your climax was 1 figure eight away by she pulled it away. Almost as if she knew your body better than yours which in this case she did. Your hips were pushed up trying to regain contact with the vibrator. " No behave." she demanded as she took her hand and whacked the inner part of your thigh.

Your body was sensitive to every touch and caress. Ms Venable removed her legs from between your thighs,which caused your legs to close with a wet soft smack. The slick that you produced was now running down both your legs and was now smeared on the bed. Ms Venable loved the sight,she loved breaking you and mending you back together with love and affection. All for her to do it all over again. Your eyes fluttered open to take in the current state of the situation. Ms Venable was making her way to the end of the bed,carefully crawling her way up to you. She must have taken her pain medication because she was able to move a bit freely without wincing. She motioned for you to turn over flat on your back,as your legs trembled so did the smile on her face. "Now Y/N I am going to teach you a lesson about behaving" she took her hands and gently rested them on your knees, tracing random patterns as you tried to catch your breathe from her edging you a few seconds ago. " What's the safe word baby?" She titled her chin upwards and stared at you from under the eyes. "fire mina" you whimpered and released a breathy exhaled. She pried open your legs,the abrupt action and the sudden coldness between your legs excited you even more. Your slit was met with her velvet tongue, she slowly licked a strip of your womanhood, gathering all the slick that you produced. The moans that made it's way from her lips vibrated through you. Out of reflex you clamped your legs closed but the digging of her nails on your inner thigh forbade you from doing so. With no WHERE to ground your self you entangled your fingers into her red lush hair,messing it in the process. Ms Venable didn't care she was determined to punish you. You felt your orgasms approaching,in the process of you euphoria you decided not to ask to cum. You didn't care if she edged you again. You just needed to cum. Therefore you stayed silent on the bed while your lover ate you out. You bite your lower lip to prevent anymore high pitch moans from leaving. You were getting closer to your high,the way she slipped her tongue into your fold and took your clit into her mouth took you over the edge. You were already climaxing, a loud moan echoed into the room followed by the high arching of your back off of the bed. Ms Venable knew you were going to cum,the only reason you did was because she allowed it. After you came down from your climax, your heavy breathing was the only sound heard. You were sleepy and so you fluttered your eyes closed. In hope that Mina will do the after care routine,but Ms Venable didn't move.

She took four of her fingers and whacked your already sensitive pussy, as you let out a loud yelp your eyes were open in shock. " ah ah ah my little slut. Did i say we were done?" She pried open your legs once more. "No mina...but-" " But nothing y/n. You said that your body belongs to me Yes?" She scooted closer. "Yes Ms Venable. " she smiled at your reply. "Good because I-" she planted kiss on your clit "am-" a next kiss on your stomach "not-" she sucked on each of you erect nipples and after planted a kiss on each one. " done." She finished her sentence by kissing you full front on your lips. Your eyes automatically closed to savour the moment. As her tongue danced with yours the moans that each of you made were captured by each of your lips. It was a loving and caring kiss. After a few minutes of an intense make out she pulled away. You whimpered at the loss of her lips on your,Ms Venable silence your sounds of plea with a press of her index finger against your lips. " Now tell me y/n how long has you and Chloe been working together?" Confusion crept it's way on to your face." Uh...4 weeks why?" Your eyebrows were now furrowed. " no reason baby" she leaned down and ghosted a soft kiss upon your lips. Ms Venable dragged her finger down the length of your body and found it's way back to your pussy. Your body jerked at her actions. " this so where the fun begins" as she said that, she shoved her index finger into your tight core. Immediately your body accepted her and hugged her back. She chuckled lowly at your response. It wasn't a laugh of making fun of , no it was a laugh of her already knowing the outcome. " week 1-you couldn't even tolerate her, yet you still showed her around the office" she began to list. But you were so eager for her to start finger fucking you with her fingers that you didn't even pay much attention to her. " week 2- you both started to eat lunch together in the break room" what that being said,she added a second finger. Your walls hugged her even tighter causing Ms Venable to moan at your body's response. " week 3- you exchanged phone numbers and started talking outside of work. IN. OUR. HOME" as she said those last three words she shoved her 3rd finger into your stuffed cunt. Thrusting deeply as she did so. " ahh ah fuck Mina please-" you moaned in both pain and pleasure. You begged her but she ignored you." And week 4 - I walk into you office to find you in the arms of another woman" at this point her fourth finger and poking at your entrance. "oh mina please.. please I can't- thats too full" tears started to stream down your face. With only three fingers filling you Ms Venable still was determined to finish her punishment. " awww my baby slut, don't cry" she leaned over and licked away your tears that were streaming down your face," you're my good girl right?" She asked with worry. Of course you were her good girl,why did she need to ask?? you thought." Yes mina I am your good girl" you said worryingly. " so you will be good for me?" You nodded eagerly in reply with your bottom lip tucked away under your teeth. " Good." Ms Venable looked away from your hopeful face and turned to the sight of her fingers in your pussy. Your girlfriend gathered her saliva in her mouth and elegantly spat on her already occupied fingers. Her skilled fingers naked to coat the fourth finger, she looked at you , to which you gave her a small nod. She prodded at your entrance with her fourth finger and easily slipped it in. You were overwhelmed and filled with your girlfriend's fingers. Ever so slowly she began to move her fingers inside of You. " oh fuck Mina f-f" this caused Venable to stop her movements. " Fire?" She questioned worriedly. You groaned out of annoyance, "no mina,faster please. It feels good" with no time to waste Ms Venable quickly began to thrust her fingers in and out of your tight core. The feeling of a knot began to build in your stomach. The idea of being finger fucked by the most uptight person in the whole building made your heart blossom.

The way your walls pushed her fingers out and pulled her in of you at the same time almost sent you over the edge. Ms Venable knew you were going to finish any time soon. She curled her fingers and rubbed against your g-spot. " it's okay baby you can cum,cum for me my little one" your entire body convulsed as you released all over her hand. The feeling of pure ecstasy overcame your body. Ms Venable gently removed her fingers from your pussy, as she did so, more of your cum spilt over onto the bed. With maintained eye contact she took two of her fingers into her mouth a sucked it clean. You gave her a weak smile,you were tired and she knew it. Before you could have dozed off she brought the other two fingers for you to clean off. As you had your girlfriend's fingers in your mouth She spoke," after this i am sure everyone in the building knows we are a thing now" a small giggle left your throath. Ms Venable made motion to get off of the bed,but you grabbed her wrist telling her to stop." Stay a little bit please " you mewled at her. She rolled her eyes and smirked," only for a little bit then we have to get you cleaned up" she stated. You opened your arms for her to cuddle up beside you, and nodded your head in agreement. "Y/n promise me your won't talk to Chloe anymore" Ms Venable kissed the top of your head awaiting for you response. "Yes mina I promise,anything for you." With your head resting against her you heard the low "hmm" that rumbled in her chest. " Good. Because you're mine. I don't like to share" and with that statement the grip on your waist got firmer as you dozed off to sleep in the arms of your lover.

#ahs apocalypse #sarah paulson fanfic #sarah paulson characters #wilhemina venable x reader #Ms Venable #jealousy #lesbian #gayyyy #Ms Venable x reader #HR Bitch #punishment #AHS

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onlyfreds · 3 years

Text

TRP Prologue - Welcome to the Story of Y/N L/N

Summary: To others, being princess is living the dream. To Y/N, it’s a living nightmare. But, that was until the day that she received the letter that changed her life and met the people who love her for her true self.

Warning/s: use of the word “damn”

Series Masterlist

Anybody else would think that being the first-born Princess is literally living the dream.

Let me tell you, it’s not.

“Y/N, put down the book and head downstairs for the Family portrait.” My mother, Queen Ahnica, snapped as she entered my room.

I sighed, placing a bookmark on the page I was currently reading, “Do we honestly have to do this mother? We already did this last year.”

She glared at me, “Do you always have to ask? Now stop this nonsense and give them a smile when we get down. We don’t want the press giving a bad image, don’t we?”

I mentally rolled my eyes as I followed her out of the room, “Yes mother.”

We headed down to the lounge where the royal photographer, my father (King Michael), and my younger sister (Princess Christel) were waiting for us.

I sat down beside my sister, who gave me a sympathetic smile as she placed her hand on top of mine.

“Don’t worry.” She reassured, “This’ll all be over in a minute.”

And boy did that minute feel like an hour.

When we had finished, Clark, our chief of staff approached us.

“Your highnesses,” he greeted, giving a small bow, “There is someone wanting to see you.”

My mother and father exchanged a confused look, before we followed Clark into the guest lounge.

Standing there was a middle-aged woman, her hair in a tight bun and a stern but gentle look on her face.

“Good day Mr. and Mrs. L/N, or should I say your highnesses.” She said, giving a curtsy,

My father smiled, “Good day Ma’am. What assistance could we offer you?”

The woman chuckled, “My name is McGonagall and I’m just here to give your daughter, Princess Y/N, a once in a lifetime opportunity.”

I looked up at her, meeting her eyes for the first time, “Me?”

My sister looked at me excitedly.

The woman nodded, handing me an envelope with the words, Princess Y/N L/N, Montenaro Palace.

Christel nudged my shoulder, “Go on, open it.” She encouraged.

I opened it and pulled out the letter inside.

Dear Mr/Ms. L/N,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

I looked up again at the woman, my parents were both stunned into silence, “Am I really going to learn magic?”

McGongall nodded, “Indeed dear, and at the best wizarding school Britain has to offer.”

“But magic isn’t real.” My mother interjected.

McGonagall brought out a thin, stick and with a small wave of her hand, bubbles erupted from it. She then pointed to a teacup on a nearby table, turning it into a teapot.

“So magic is real?” Christel asked in awe.

McGonagall nodded, “It is.”

I turned to my parents as I gave them a pleading look, “Please mum, dad. Can I go.”

My parents exchanged a silent argument before my father said, “You may go. But if this is some sort of scam. You will regret dragging my daughter into this.”

The woman nodded, “You will regret nothing your highness.”

She then turned to me, “I’ll be meeting up with you next week to get your school supplies.”

As soon as she left, my mother turned to my father, “How could you let her? She’s ten! She should be attending finishing school, not some sort of magic school with a bunch of idiots!”

My father sighed, “We’ve taught her everything that she could be taught in finishing school ever since she was five. She’ll be fine.”

When September first rolled around, McGonagall brought me to King’s Cross Station and she had instructed me how to board on to Platform 9 and 3/4. Thankfully, I was able to leave before my parents realized that I was wearing “normal” clothes. Because if they did, I would’ve received a full lecture about maintaining an image for the press.

To be honest, jeans and a shirt were a lot more comfortable than a corset and a gown.

At first, I thought it was absurd. But after seeing the serious look on her face, I decided to give it the benefit of the doubt and run into the barrier in between Platforms 9 and 10.

I closed my eyes, braced myself for impact. But a cold chill came over me before I heard the chatter of a lively crowd, I opened my eyes, seeing a red and black train with a sign that said, Hogwarts Express.

A hopped onto the train, looking for a spare compartment. I didn’t expect anyone to recognize me as the princess, and I wish they wouldn’t.

I found a compartment that was occupied by two identical looking gingers.

I gently knocked on the compartment door, sliding it open a bit before asking, “Excuse me, but is it okay if I sat here? Everywhere else was full.”

One of them nodded, “Of course you may. I’m George by the way.” He said, offering his hand with I shook, giving him a small smile.

He then nodded to the boy sitting opposite of him, “That’s my twin brother, Fred.”

Fred stared at me, his mouth slightly agape, “Bloody hell, you’re gorgeous.”

I bit my lip, feeling my cheeks heat up as Fred was snapped out of his trance by George laughing.

“Oh, sorry.” He apologized, grinning sheepishly.

I giggled, “It’s fine.”

The three of us bonded over the train ride and became fast friends.

Despite the fact that Fred and George were identical twins, I had absolutely no trouble telling them apart, though something about Fred made my heart race a bit faster and the butterflies to rise up to my stomach.

It’s been three years since I first met the twins. I was now in my fourth year at Hogwarts.

Before I headed down to the Great Hall for Lunch, I adjusted the necklace I was wearing.

Once I arrived, I immediately slipped into the seat between the twins.

Hermione took a sip of her pumpkin juice, looking up from her book, “Where did you get that?”

I looked at her, slightly confused, “Where did I get what?”

“That necklace.”

I looked down and realized that I wasn’t able to hide my necklace in my blouse properly.

“My mum gave it to me.” I managed to stutter out.

“Why? What’s wrong with her necklace?” Ginny asked, “It seems alright to me.”

Everyone in our group was watching me and Hermione, obviously interested in the exchange.

“Well, it’s not just any necklace.” Hermione stated, “There’s only one necklace like that.”

Fred chuckled, “Hermione, I’m sure that necklace is one of billions.”

“No.” She insisted, “There is only one necklace like that and it belongs to the first-born princess of Montenaro.”

She stared at me intently, I could almost see the gears turning in her brain. Besides, she was called the “brightest witch of her age” for a reason.

“Oh Godric!” She gasped and I knew she had come to her conclusion, “What was your last name again?” She asked.

I sighed, “L/N.”

“How did I not notice it before?” She said, most likely to herself, “It makes so much sense now.”

“Hermione, not all of us are geniuses here. So, mind catching us up on what exactly makes sense?” Harry joked.

“The reason why Y/N has that necklace, even though it’s super rare, is because she is the first-born princess of Montenaro. She’s part of the L/N family, she’s basically royalty.” Hermione explained excitedly.

The group looked at me for confirmation.

“Is it true love?” Fred asked softly, “You’re a princess?”

I nodded, letting out a quiet, “yes.”

Everyone was dead silent; you would have thought that someone had just dropped dead in front of us.

Angelina was the first one to break the silence, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

I sighed, “I didn’t want you guys to treat me differently. Because when your royalty and others see you, all people can think about is: she’s the princess, she’s next in line for the throne. And being princess, I’m never free. Every decision is made for me, every word, every moved has to be supervised because there’s always some sort of protocol that’s against it. You guys love me and care about me not because I’m the princess. But because you see the real me. You don’t see me as ‘Princess Y/N’, you guys see me as just Y/N.”

I felt Fred hold my hand under the table as I continued, “Here, I am able to be myself, without having to worry about the damn rules or the press. That’s why I spend every holiday I could at the Burrow. Because I like being free. Because I’ve felt more at home there that when I’ve spent a portion of my life at the palace. That’s why I kept my identity a secret. I feared that when you guys learned the truth, you would treat me differently.”

Fred and George encased me in a “Weasley twin hug” as the former kissed the top of my head.

“We’ll always love you darling.” He whispered, “Whether you’re royalty or not.”

I smiled, “Really? You’re not mad that I kept all of this a secret?”

George chuckled, “Of course we’re not.”

“Fred’s right. To us, your being a princess is just a title, but what matters is the side of Y/N that you want to show us.” Ginny added.

I laughed as all of them wrapped me in a group hug, “What did I do to deserve friends like you guys.”

Fred laughed, running a hand through my hair, “What did we do to deserve being friends with an actual princess?”

“Way to ruin the moment, Freddie!”

“Did you have to bring it up now?”

The rest of the group chimed as they playfully scolded Fred.

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official-weasley · 3 years

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Love, William (Bill Weasley x OC) - Chapter 7

WARNINGS: absolutely nothing except Umbridge

Chapter 7 - Bill's Birthday Present

Dear Eric,

thank you for sending me a birthday present a week earlier – it was a nice surprise as always! Of course, Fred, George, and I already ate all the candy you sent me but that scarf is stunning and will come in handy as it’s currently snowing outside.

Your present got me all excited about my birthday. I know Fred and George are planning something because they are constantly giggling and whispering when they think I’m not paying attention. I will officially be an adult in the Muggle world. I am not sure what to do with that information but I can’t wait either way!

I admire you for having faith that our mother will stop pushing me to be more like you. You asked if she had a change of heart yet about the shop and the answer is no. She doesn’t want to hear about it and when I mentioned it when I was home for Christmas, her face got all screwed up and green as if she’s going to vomit.

I appreciate that you are trying to persuade her to give me a chance but since I have given up hope a long time ago, you don’t have to waste energy on it either.

Oh, and speaking about the shop! Fred and George think we might have finally found the right place! It’s in Diagon Alley, which is perfect if I say so myself because Diagon Alley doesn’t have a joke shop yet and I reckon that will be great for business.

I haven’t seen it yet. Fred and George went there during Christmas break. They said that it would need quite a lot of work but they think it’s going to pay off! We are going to go and talk to the owner during Easter break to arrange matters further. We don’t want to get too excited – we still have to graduate and pass our N.E.W.T.s. Mum would have my head if I don’t finish school, can you imagine!

I would like you to know that I am still keeping our family legacy of Filch pranking alive! As I told you before, he is the perfect test subject for our products and since we perfected the Screaming Yo-yo over the summer, the twins and I couldn’t resist throwing one into his office while he was asleep. I wish you could be there when he started screaming. He ran into the hallway and actually said to me that I was just like my brother – disobedient and good for nothing.

I think that might just have been the sweetest thing Mr. Filch has ever said to me! Can you believe he remembers you?

However, I wish I could say that Mr. Filch is our biggest concern these days. That Umbridge woman has completely lost her mind. DADA has never been so boring and we keep getting detention! But we have it easy, you should have seen what she’s done to Harry! She’s mental that one. Hermione told me that she made him write lines because he is lying that You-Know-Who is back.

Who would ever lie about something like that? The Ministry is losing it and I am glad that you are in the USA and not here to witness this nonsense.

Ms. Pink Lady Toad keeps creating rules that just don’t make any sense. We can barely whisper in the hallways now. A couple was snogging on a bench on the second floor the other day and she not only pulled them apart but gave them a month’s worth of detention. A MONTH!

Anyway, there might be some light at the end of the tunnel. There’s a reason I asked you to send me that advanced spellbook you used for your Auror training. Harry is recruiting people to start some sort of a defense class. Godric knows that Umbridge isn’t going to teach us anything and he is taking matters into his own hands!

Hermione made us these coins to know when our next meeting. Fred and George can’t wait and we all know it’s going to be better than any class.

I have to go now, I have DADA in 15 minutes and I have to send this letter to you before I go in case I die of boredom in that class.

Thank you again for the birthday present and for supporting me in what I want to do with my life – it means the world to me.

I miss you and know that I can’t wait to see you over the summer!

Love and a big hug, Theo

PS. I remembered that you mentioned that you have an annoying co-worker in one of your previous letters so I am sending you a bag of Invisibility Powder. It’s a product Freddie and I developed. You mix it in someone’s drink and their hair is going to turn invisible for 3 days making them look as if they were bald. Have fun with it and reminisce on your mischief days!

—

“Late again, Miss Cork.” Professor Umbridge said sluggishly when Theodora entered the classroom.

“I apologize, professor. I was in the Owlery, sending a letter.” Theodora bowed her head and went to sit next to George.

“A letter?” A hollow laugh escaped Umbridge’s mouth. “And who might you be writing to?”

“I think that is none of your business,” Fred said through his teeth.

“That’s professor to you, Mr. Weasley. I am Hogwarts High Inquisitor and I have the power to make it my business to know who the students are writing to.” The professor stepped closer to where Fred was sitting, her head slightly tilted to the side.

“I was wr-”

Theodora had nothing to hide so she just wanted to get the attention off her by telling Umbridge who the letter was for but George’s hand over her mouth stopped her.

“You don’t have to tell her anything,” George whispered to her.

“Oh, but she does.” Umbridge’s lips curved into an evil grin and Theodora knew what was coming. “Perhaps we should establish a new rule. No letters in or out without me knowing about them.”

“Are you mental?” Fred stood up.

“That's privacy invasion!” George followed.

“Sit down the both of you!” Umbridge glared at them until they did what they were told.

“She’s right to be concerned, you know.” Theodora turned to George, with a mischievous expression on her face.

She knew what she was about to say next will get her in detention but she didn’t care. She simply had no energy to listen to Umbridge trying to boss people around.

“Elaborate, Miss Cork.” Umbridge cleared her throat.

“I was writing a letter to one of my confidants in America. We are forming an alliance with them against the Dark Lord.” Theodora smirked.

If she wanted information that had nothing to do with her, might as well lie about it and make her furious.

“How dare you!” Umbridge turned as pink as the bow around her neck. “What is wrong with you students?” She furrowed her brows and started walking towards Theodora’s desk, slowly. “How many times do I have to say that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is not back?!”

“And how many times do we have to tell you that he is?” Fred rolled his eyes and slammed a book against his head.

All Gryffindors started to laugh, while Slytherins made faces of disgust and shock.

“That’s enough!” The professor hit the floor with a loud thump of her foot.

Silence filled the classroom.

“Would you like detention again, Mr. Weasley?”

“Gladly!” Fred hissed at her. “At least it won’t be as boring as this class!”

Umbridge and a few Slytherins gasped.

“A month, Mr. Weasley! Starting in this classroom, tonight at 7!” She said, shaking.

Fred shrugged his shoulders, put his book in his bag, glanced at George and Theodora, and started towards the door.

Exchanging one look, George and Theodora stood up as well and followed Fred.

“And where do you think you are all going?” Umbridge questioned them.

“You already gave detention to my brother, so I see no point for him to stick around and we always serve detention together so you’ll be seeing both of us tonight, professor,” Fred replied.

“And I am joining them because this class is as dull as they get and without Mr. and Mr. Weasley I might just die of boredom in your class. Honestly, professor, I fear for my life.” Theodora said sarcastically, making Fred and George giggle.

George put his arm around Theodora’s shoulders and without saying another word, they left the classroom, leaving professor Umbridge speechless and with her mouth opened.

—

“I still can’t believe you went after me,” George whispered to his two friends, the second Umbridge left the classroom during their detention.

“What else were we supposed to do, I hate that woman.” Theodora frowned.

“We have to come up with something and get her out of this school.” Fred thought out loud.

“That would do everyone a favor.” Theodora rubbed her chin. “But what?”

“I don’t know yet but it’s never too late to start brainstorming,” Fred smirked while the other two nodded in agreement.

“So, Theo,” George prodded her, “your birthday’s in a week. What are your plans?”

“I don’t have plans.” Theodora chuckled.

“Good.” Fred clapped. “I mean, whatever.”

“Right, as if I don’t know that you two are up to something.” Theodora lifted an eyebrow at her best friends.

“Maybe we are, maybe we aren’t.” George sent her a wink.

“18 is a big one! You’ll be able...you’ll...wait what are you allowed to do when you turn 18?” Fred asked puzzled as he couldn’t come up with a single thing.

“In the Wizarding world nothing much since we come of age at 17 but in the Muggle world she will finally be a grown-up.” George giggled.

“A grown-up? She will have to mature for that.” Fred joked.

Theodora pursed her lips playfully and smacked them both over the head, then joined them in a fit of laughter.

Their faces straightened and they went back to writing lines when they heard Umbridge coming back, pressing their lips together hard, not to continue laughing.

—

“What do you think you’re doing?” Fred sat down next to Theodora, almost making her spit out her porridge – startling her.

“The last time I checked it’s called eating?” Theodora blinked at him.

“I mean, running away from us like that. Don’t you think we don’t know what day it is today?” Fred explained his question.

“I didn’t run away.” Theodora laughed. “I woke up, saw that you two weren’t in the common room yet, and went down for breakfast.”

“Sounds like running to me, what do you think, Georgie?” Fred’s eyes turned from Theodora to his brother who was sitting on the opposite side of the table.

“I couldn’t agree with you more,” George said with a smug expression on his face.

“Then I would like to deeply, from the bottom of my heart, apologize to you,” Theodora said in a dramatic voice, placing her hands over her chest.

“Apology accepted.” Fred grinned.

“Now that that’s out of the way,” George stood up, climbed across the table, and sat on Theodora’s other side, “happy birthday, Theo.”

The twins kissed Theodora’s cheeks – one on each side – and hugged her.

“Thank you.” Theodora giggled with a hand over her mouth.

“You’ll get your present after the Quidditch practice,” Fred said excitedly.

“Please tell me, we are not pranking anyone today?” Theodora pleaded.

“Nothing of the sorts, we promise.” George smiled innocently.

Before Theodora could ask more about her present an owl dropped a letter in her lap. George got up and crawled under the table to sit back on the other side, while Fred sat a bit away from her so she could read the letter in private.

Theodora wondered who the letter could be from. She already received her gift and birthday letter from Eric. He was always afraid that it wouldn’t arrive in time so he sent it a week in advance every year.

She knew she couldn’t expect anything from her mother. It would be a miracle if she would even remember that it’s her daughter’s birthday. The last time she heard her mother say ‘happy birthday’ to her was when Eric was still at school.

She opened the envelope and took out the neatly folded piece of parchment. Before she could fully unfold it, she saw the name signed below the message. Her heart skipped a beat and her eyes widened.

She folded the letter back up – without reading it – and put it back in its envelope. She never expected to get a letter from this person and she most certainly knew she can’t read its content in front of the twins.

The letter was from Bill.

“Who’s the letter from?” George asked upon seeing Theodora’s flustered expression.

“It’s...uhm...it’s from Eric.” She mumbled knowing they won’t ask further questions if it’s concerning him.

“Do you always blush when you get a letter from your brother? Because that’s concerning.” Fred raised his eyebrows at his best friend.

“No...I...” The red on Theodora’s cheeks deepened. “I think I just got my period.” She blurted out and stood up.

She couldn’t get out of the Great Hall fast enough. She knew that the twins won’t buy her lie about her getting her period. They knew when she was grumpy and need to give her space and that’s not happening for another 2 weeks.

She also couldn’t deny that the curiosity about why Bill sent her a letter was growing in her chest with each minute.

She hurried up the stairs to the second floor – where better to have a private moment than in Myrtle’s bathroom?

She double-checked if she was alone, besides sobbing Myrtle in the second bathroom stall.

She put the toilet lid down and sat on it. She took the letter out of the inner pocket of her robes and stared at the envelope, her hands shaking.

She would be lying if she said that she forgot all about Bill and the time they spent together during the summer. She was hoping she will stop thinking about him once she returned to Hogwarts but wasn’t so lucky – she missed him.

After that disastrous day of them being locked in the broom closet together, they didn’t say another word to each other until Bill’s departure to Egypt when they said an awkward goodbye.

Bill was mostly in his room and once Fred and George apologized to her for the 10th time for what they have done and she asked them to never talk to Bill about her again, she convinced them to work on their products even more than before so they barely left the room.

It was January now and even though she still sometimes couldn’t sleep – thinking about him – she was certain that Bill forgot she ever existed. The letter in her hands proved her wrong and she didn’t know how to feel about it.

She didn’t see much of the letter in the Great Hall but she could swear she saw the word birthday written down. She didn’t know that Bill knew when her birthday was.

She took a deep breath and took the parchment out of the envelope. She closed her eyes and unfolded the paper – perhaps that way she’ll get more courage to read it.

She opened one of her eyes, the other still closed, pretending she wasn’t dying to read what Bill wrote to her.

Dear Theodora,

I hope this letter arrives in time. If my calculations are correct, you should receive it with owl post in the morning on your special day.

I know this is short but a longer letter and a gift will be waiting for you on your bed after your Quidditch practice today.

Happy birthday, Theodora.

Bill

Theodora was staring at a letter as if it was a death threat – all color left her face and she forgot how to breathe. She can’t be reading this correctly, Bill didn’t just send her a letter telling her he has a gift for her?

She closed her eyes, took another deep breath, opened her eyes back up, and reread the letter 5 more times. She wasn’t losing her mind, this letter was real. Her chest was falling and rising fast, her heart drumming loudly against her ribcage.

She knew she wasn’t over him but the way she was feeling – the anticipation of seeing what Bill got her – proved just how strong her feelings still were.

Another deep breath.

She has to calm down. It’s just a letter and just a small gift. She can’t afford to overthink this. They became really good friends over the summer so he sent her a little something – as a friend. That’s all, so she has to calm down.

“Oh, a letter from a boy.”

Theodora jumped in the air, hearing a voice behind her.

“Don’t you know it’s not nice to read a letter behind someone’s shoulder, Myrtle?” Theodora said with a shaky voice. “What got you all agitated and annoyed?” Myrtle felt offended.

“Never you mind, Myrtle.” Theodora put the letter back in the envelope and put it inside her bag.

“Where are you going?” Myrtle questioned when Theodora exited the stall and headed toward the exit door.

“I have Quidditch practice.”

“But I thought we were going to talk about boys.” Myrtle cried.

“No, thank you.” Theodora tried not to look terrified of that idea and rushed out of the bathroom.

—

“Cork, what is it with you today! Don’t you know how to score!” Angelina Johnson shouted across the Quidditch pitch.

“Sorry, I’ll try harder!” Theodora yelled back and sighed.

She couldn’t concentrate at practice at all. She was mad with herself for not waiting to open Bill’s letter after she got back to her dormitory. All she could think about was the fact that he wrote to her, that he remembered it was her birthday and that lingering question in the back of her mind why...why did he send her a gift?

“Give her a break, Angie. It’s her birthday.” Fred flew to Angelina and sent her a wink.

“And she’s on her period.” George appeared on Angelina’s other side.

“You didn’t just tell me that, George.” Angelina pinched the bridge of her nose and took a deep breath before flying away from them.

“What? What did I say?” George turned to his brother.

“Girls.” Fred shrugged.

“Okay, team! Let’s try this again before we all become snowballs.” Angelina said to her teammates.

Theodora frowned and positioned herself next to Katie Bell, who was shaking on her broom. Playing Quidditch while it was snowing sucked. Theodora just wanted it to be over so she could go take a shower and crawl into her bed. She didn’t feel like celebrating her birthday at all. She hated that she couldn’t kill the curiosity in her head – the never-stopping question of what is waiting for her in her dormitory.

“You okay?” Fred whispered to Theodora once the practice was over.

“I just wasn’t feeling it and I don’t like flying in the snow. My fingers are freezing.” It wasn’t the whole truth but she wasn’t lying either.

“You’ll get warm soon enough.” George giggled.

“Okay, the practice is over. Are you going to tell me now what your big surprise is?” Theodora raised her eyebrows.

“Patience, oh, little one.” Fred patted her on the head.

“Just meet us in the common room in 10 minutes.” George tried to hide his grin but failed.

Theodora rolled her eyes and walked to the girl’s changing room. She took her time to change her clothes and she took the longest route back to the Gryffindor Tower, trying to deny herself the fact that she couldn’t wait to see what Bill got her. The twins said 10 minutes – she has to give them time to prepare whatever they have planned. This wasn’t about Bill at all – she lied to herself.

She stopped in front of the common room, the Fat Lady waiting for her to tell her the password.

Why was she making such a big deal out of this? It’s just a gift. She has to calm down.

After gathering the courage to say the password, the portrait hole opened and Theodora climbed inside.

“SURPRISE!”

She was so busy dusting her robes that she didn’t see a group of people standing in the middle of the common room. She jumped into the air, her hand on her chest as they scared the living ghost out of her.

A smile painted her face when she saw the familiar faces. Fred and George were standing on the sides, throwing confetti in the air. Ron, Harry, and Hermione smiling at her, holding birthday presents. Her three roommates were standing next to Ginny who had the biggest grin on her freckled face. Lee was singing happy birthday into a microphone and Angelina and Katie were waving two small Gryffindor flags.

Theodora didn’t know how to react. It was so nice that they threw her a little birthday party. Nobody has ever done that for her before. There was a table in the left corner with a punch bowl and cupcakes. Candles lit all around the room and a big Happy Birthday banner hanging from the ceiling.

After they all congratulated her and gave her the gifts, the crowd dispersed, and other Gryffindors joined the party. Some were drinking punch, others were eating cupcakes. A group decided to play Exploding Snap and most of the girls were giggling about something in front of the fireplace.

Theodora was leaning against a wall observing the guests of her party. She tried to enjoy it. She was so happy how it turned out and she was proud of the twins for pulling something like this off.

Her eyes escaped to her two best friends who were trying to sell Canary Cream to a third year, convincing him that it’s completely harmless, making Theodora shake her head and chuckle.

“Hi, Theo.”

She turned around to see Eddie, a boy in her year, stand next to her.

“I didn’t have a chance to wish you a happy birthday before.” He scratched the top of his head.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Theodora smiled at him.

“Well, happy birthday.” The boy said and hugged her awkwardly, despite Theodora’s extended hand – expecting a handshake.

“Thank you.”

“I...I wanted to ask you something and it’s okay if you say no,” Eddie mumbled, looking at the floor.

“Okay,” Theodora replied slowly.

“I kind of fancy you for a while now and...and I was wondering if you would like to go out with me sometime.” He blabbered.

“Oh.” Theodora breathed.

She didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth and didn’t know how to reply. She couldn’t deny that Eddie was extremely handsome – awkward but handsome. But she also couldn’t deny that she would rather be in her room, opening Bill’s present than talking to him which meant she wasn’t ready to move on.

“I’m sorry, Eddie. I’m flattered but I am kind of getting over someone.” She decided not to lie to him.

“Oh, I understand.” Eddie smiled sheepishly, trying not to sound disappointed. “Thank you for telling me the truth. Happy birthday again.”

Theodora nodded and bestowed him with a gentle smile. He turned on his heels and walked away.

“What’s wrong, Theo?” Fred leaned on the wall next to her.

“Don’t you like our surprise?” George bowed his head.

“I love it!” Theodora exclaimed. “I’m just tired and I was just asked out.”

She told the twins everything and it was killing her that she couldn’t discuss Bill’s letter with them but at the same time, she knew that they would tease her and make her go to her dorm to open the gift at once and she wanted to stall for as long as she could.

“By Eddie McNeal?” George sounded impressed.

“So when’s the big date?” Fred made a kissy face.

“I turned him down.” Theodora sighed.

Maybe she did that too quickly. Perhaps she should’ve said yes to him – he could help her get over Bill.

“Why?” George asked, puzzled.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Theodora replied honestly.

“Want to dance then?” Fred stepped in front of her and offered her his hand.

Theodora laughed, pushed herself away from the wall, and decided to forget about the world and spend her birthday with her amazing two friends.

—

It was 2 in the morning when Theodora started walking up the stairs to her dormitory. She had the biggest smile plastered on her face. She couldn’t believe how much fun she had with all her friends. This was definitely a birthday to remember.

She yawned as she reached her room and couldn’t wait to go to sleep. It wasn’t until she saw a rose, a letter, and a package that looked like a wrapped book on her bed that she realized she had so much fun that she forgot about Bill’s gift.

Her roommates were already asleep, which meant she could open it in private but it didn’t make her any less nervous.

She decided to unwrap the package first – just to get it over with and to avoid reading the letter for another minute or so.

She let out a silent gasp when she saw that Bill got her a book about how to start your own business. The book was on her reading list but she simply didn’t find the time to go to a Muggle bookstore and buy it.

She told Bill about the book one night when they were stargazing and she couldn’t believe he listened to her so attentively that he remembered she wanted to get it.

She put the book on her nightstand, excited to read it, and turned her gaze to the letter next to the rose. She hated how her heart was beating faster and faster in the anticipation of finally reading it.

She broke the seal and took two pieces of parchment out – Bill was not joking about this letter being longer.

Dear Theodora,

I hope my gift reached your dormitory and is set on the right bed. I was thinking for the longest time about what to buy for you and then I remembered the book you so enthusiastically talked about one night when we were outside observing the sky.

Hopefully, you didn’t already get it for yourself otherwise this will be one lousy present.

I wanted to gift it to you, to show my support and admiration of just how brave I think you are for standing up for yourself against your mother, supporting my brothers, and embarking on this journey with them.

I was thinking of getting you a white rose – knowing it’s your favorite color – but the symbol of a white rose is innocence and you, striving to achieve your dreams is more daring than innocent. I am proud of you for knowing what you want and not letting anyone tell you otherwise.

I hate to admit that I pondered for the longest time which color to get for you. I decided to go with orange in the end. It’s far from ordinary and they aren’t as common. Besides its meaning – being a symbol of enthusiasm and passion – it reminded me very much of how I see you.

You are incredibly gifted and extraordinary and people like you are hard to come by. You are enthusiastic and passionate about what you want to become and I wanted to get you something to remind you of that.

I hope I didn’t cross any lines with my gift. The last thing I would want is to make you uncomfortable on your special day.

Happy birthday again, Theodora.

Sending you a birthday hug,

Bill

Theodora sat on her bed with her mouth open. Her eyes, shining with tears – her eyelids gently fluttering – moved from the letter to the rose, untouched on her bed.

She picked it up and slowly brought it closer to her face. She closed her eyes and took a whiff of it – its beautiful smell filling her lungs.

She pressed the rose to her heart and reread the letter one more time, her mind completely blank. She didn’t know what to think of the letter at all. She definitely didn’t expect it to say what it did.

They were just friends, he was proud of her as a friend and friends can give each other flowers too, right?

She couldn’t allow herself to think too much about it – there was nothing she could do about the letter except to reply. Should she reply? And if so, what would she write back?

She tried remembering what Charlie sent her this morning, the owl waking her up by tapping on her window with her beak. She was friends with Charlie but he didn’t get her flowers. His letter was sweet and to the point – telling her he misses having her around, wishing her a happy birthday. Along with the letter he sent her a colorful beanie which he knitted himself ‘to warm you up when hot chocolate can’t’ – he explained in his letter.

She shook her head, smelling the rose again. Bill’s letter was just as friendly as Charlie’s and that’s all it is to it.

She put the rose inside a glass she had on her nightstand and disappeared under the covers, clutching Bill’s letter in her hand. With the help of the light coming from her wand, she reread it two more times before going to sleep.

Who was she fooling, thinking she’ll be able to fall asleep. She reread Bill’s words so many times that she knew them by heart now. She couldn’t stop thinking about it and she couldn’t stop beating herself with the question if she should reply to him or not.

Two more hours have passed and she was getting annoyed with herself. She has never spent a sleepless night thinking about a boy before. She can’t let this get to her. It was just a birthday present and she’s going to prove it to herself!

She got up, walked to her desk, and sat down. She picked up her quill and a piece of parchment and started replying to Bill. She will send him an owl in the morning and when Bill won’t reply to her, she will know for certain that she is overthinking this whole situation.

Dear Bill,

the gift reached me as you planned and I am deeply touched by it. I can’t believe you remembered which book I was blabbering about over and over. I was certain you stopped listening the second I mentioned it was about business.

Don’t you worry, I didn’t have the time to buy it for myself so you spared me some time and nobody else got it for me since you were the only one I told about it. I know what I am going to be doing for the next week when I don’t study for N.E.W.T.s!

I would like to thank you – not only for the gift but for being so supportive of me and your brothers. I know it’s a tricky path we are walking on but I feel it in my heart that it’s the right one.

My mother didn’t even congratulate me on my birthday so with everything I told you last summer you can imagine how much your support means to me. It’s nice to know that you are appreciated and cheered on and you have done just that with your letter, the book, and the rose.

The rose. I reckon I never saw an orange one before and you’re right, it isn’t ordinary at all – it’s beautiful and it smells divine. I am thinking of casting a spell on it so it doesn’t wither away. It’s a nice reminder of why I am doing what I am and I can’t find the words to express myself how thankful I am for it.

I have to admit that your gift pleasantly surprised me and it was far from crossing any lines or making me uncomfortable. It was a nice conclusion to my special day.

Thank you for the birthday wishes and the very thoughtful gift – it left me speechless.

Returning the birthday hug,

Theodora

#harry potter fanfiction #the weasleys #weasley family #hp imagine #the burrow #harry potter imagine #weasley fanfiction #bill weasley #harry potter #wizarding world #bill weasley fluff #bill weasley fanfiction #bill weasley x oc #bill weasley imagine #summer at the burrow #bill weasley romance #fred weasley #george weasley #charlie weasley

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

Text

Three Strikes [you're out]

It was his fault, really.

Wearing that jersey at Citi Field practically required Nina to hate the mass of muscle sitting in front of her on sight. Plus, he didn't know how to score a baseball game. So, honestly, it made sense. To hate him. Ardently, even. To push buttons, metaphorical or otherwise. A game within the game.

And, if, she found herself having fun, well, that was neither here nor there.

———

Rating: T, with sports and kissing because of who I am as a person Word Count: 9.1 K, also because of who I am as a person AN: I don’t know, guys. I got thoughts. I got feelings. The only way I know how deal with either of those things is to write about them with sports and kissing. Did I suggest that being a Mets fan was a bit like being Grisha? Perhaps! Perhaps, I did! If this is out of character just...don’t tell me.

Also on Ao3 if that’s how you roll

———

The suggestion that an idea was capable of boiling a person’s blood, even in the most abstract and metaphorical sense, had always appealed to Nina. Not in a particularly violent way, of course. More in regards to the visual.

Conjured up all sorts of possibilities.

Little bubbles beneath her skin, searing emotion through her veins that inevitably led to tufts of smoke pouring out of her ears. Like one of those old cartoon characters, she could now only dimly remember. In moments like this, especially. When she wasn’t quite boiling, but certainly racing toward the vast and admittedly surprising precipice of abject hatred. Directed almost solely toward the mass of muscle who dared to wear a Chase Utley jersey to Citi Field on a Thursday in May.

He needed a haircut, she thought.

The muscle. Not Chase Utley. She couldn’t possibly care less about the state of Chase Utley’s hair. Unless he was choking on it, somewhere. Obviously. Then Nina cared very much. About Chase Utley. And this guy. With too-long strands that she was starting to believe fell almost artfully across the back of a vaguely golden-skinned neck, as if they existed solely to torment her.

On a Thursday in May.

Sitting there, with a seat digging into the middle of her spine and her frustration threatening the enamel on the back of her teeth, Nina was loath to admit, even to herself, that she couldn’t stop staring at him. Partially because of the hair. Which looked very—pushable, really. As far as her finger’s potential went. But mostly because of everything else. Watching the muscle was a bit like watching a statue at the Met, waiting with bated breath for it to actually surge to life because when she was that same kid who watched cartoons on weekend mornings, she rather strongly believed that the statues at the Met were wholly capable of smiling and turning and living. Artwork prone to the mystical and potentially magical.

She blamed Ben Stiller for that, honestly.

Amy Adams to a slightly lesser degree.

Robin Williams would suffer no criticism in this argument, naturally.

The muscle shifted.

Twitched just a hint in his seat. Altered the angle of his, frankly, impressively wide shoulders. Rolled his neck between them. The seat was too small. He was too big. That jersey must have been ancient.

And, really, when it came down to it, Nina hated him most for the pencil. Tucked behind his right ear, it looked comically small whenever he pulled it between his fingers, scratching across a legitimate scorebook because in the thirty-seven minutes or so she’d spent observing this fascinating specimen of humanity, she’d noticed it was, in fact, a scorebook.

Not a piece of paper.

Not a printout.

Not even the one she was only vaguely confident they handed out in the rotunda downstairs.

An actual scorebook.

That he brought with him to Citi Field.

She glanced down to make sure she had not actually burst into literal flames in section 205. Row F. Seat 27. No such luck. Weird.

The pencil was back in his hand. One leg crossed the other, leaving his knee propped in the air, and there was just so much of the muscle that it was a rather small miracle of an exceptionally narrow field of science that it didn’t collide with anyone around him. Instead, it provided a built-in desk, that stupid scorebook propped up against jean-covered skin and even more muscles, pushing against fabric like they were personally offended by the concept of the blue-colored prison.

Nina bit her lip.

Tried to keep breathing. Because fires required oxygen, and there could be no boiling without fire and—

“‘Scuse me, ‘scuse me, ‘scuse me, just trying to—” Blood flooded Nina’s mouth, making it impossible for her to open that same mouth and let out the laugh already pushing against her lips. There were at least four little wrinkles pinched across the small expanse of Jesper’s nose, two boxes of popcorn clutched in either one of his hands and a soda between the slight bend of his elbow. He tiptoed his way around disgruntled fans, glaring at a few red jerseys for good measure. As if he actually wanted to be there. Nina kept biting her lip. “Just trying to get back to my seat,” Jesper finished, “won’t bother you again, rest of the game, absolutely, one-hundred percent guaranteed.”

Nina’s lips tilted up.

Scrambling to her feet, she couldn’t quite balance on the edge of the seat that immediately swung back up. Something sticky stuck to the bottom of her shoe and eventually, she would find herself wondering why she didn’t simply move into Jesper’s seat. For a myriad of reasons, she assumed.

Some of which might have mystical and potentially.

Goddamn, Ben Stiller.

“Accommodating sort of group, isn’t it?” Jesper mumbled, pushing past her and Nina had to applaud his dexterity. Not a kernel lost in the battle.

“Should have waited ‘til the middle of the inning. This is just bad form on your part.” “And miss all—” He waved an imperious hand toward the field. “What am I missing, exactly?”

Opening her mouth, Nina was certain she’d come up with a reasonable explanation for the romantic nature of baseball, only she was a little busy. Keeping her head connected to the rest of her body.

Snapping to the left, her breath caught. In that dramatic sort of way that always seemed like the perfect soundtrack to any great sporting moment. Eyes wide and fingers digging into her palm, hope mixed with the bubbles and the boils, and she barely noticed the awkward angle of her bent knees. Or just how close she was to—

Him.

The muscle.

She heard his pencil drop, she swore.

Oh, Gods, but he had blue eyes. Sharp and staring right at her, Nina resisted the very real urge to let herself melt right there. In section 205. Row F. Seat 27. Well, in front of seat 27, technically.

Pulling her knee back did not do that same knee any favors, muscles almost audibly objecting to the force of Nina’s split-second reaction, but then she forgot about the pain and the concept of depth perception. The yell tore itself out of her lungs, found its way to the rest of the noise circling the stadium, wrapping its way around people until the hope of that one, singular moment settled on the tips of her eyelashes and the backs of her heels and she wasn’t sure if she heard him at first.

No one should be capable of possessing a voice quite so gruff, that’s why.

“Not going to make it.”

Glaring at the monstrous mass of muscle and questionably good hair wasn’t so much as a decision as something far closer to instinct, pulling her brows together and letting her tongue push at the bottom of her teeth, and he—

Looked. Right at her. And her tongue.

Shoulders tensing, a hint of nervous energy appeared in those same ridiculously blue eyes, gone almost before Nina had a chance to realize it was there at all and she didn’t see the play. Heard it, though. The groans and the grunts, complete despair, and the first shreds of desolation drowning out the hope and pulling it from a grip that was always a little tenuous.

No home run. No hit. Just a run-of-the-mill fly ball in center field.

One side of the muscle’s mouth tugged up.

“Told you.” “Oh, fuck off.”

Surprise, she thought, was a very good look on him. Most of them would be, she imagined. But right then, on a Thursday in May, with two outs in the bottom of the fourth, Nina relished the surprise.

And sat back down.

To be a Mets fan, was to believe in the impossible.

The amazing, even.

It was right there in the slogans. The advertising campaigns. On a variety of shirts, both legitimate and those sold at the bottom of the 7-train stairs. To accept the amazing, to wish for it, even, was part and parcel of the history of an organization that relished its underdog status. Thrived in its role, the second team in a city that toed the line between excess and restraint.

Winning with this team was unexpected and unpredictable. Came without much pomp. Certainly no circumstance. Only a few trades that drew national eyes and back page headlines. More often than not, this was a team that discovered amazing when it simply should not exist.

Misfits who created something wonderful. Who sparked something among people who, at least for nine innings, believed orange was a worthwhile color to wear. Who smiled at a mascot with a massive baseball for a head. And his wife, who sported some rather impressive eyelashes, actually.

To be a Mets fan, was to understand heartache.

To accept being the butt of jokes across decades.

Every year, the knowing smiles came. Paying goddamn Bobby Bonilla. Cracks about pyramid schemes and owners who couldn’t find their way out of a money-based paper bag, team antics that occasionally drew those headlines, and players who fell in wayward ditches on their farms, ending their season before it ever really began.

Winning didn’t come often, but it was loud when it did. The crack of a bat and a ball finding the back of a glove, shoulders slamming into the left-field wall with its massive M&Ms ad. Feedback from a microphone as David Wright thanked the Seven Line Army, in all their orange-clad glory, memories of that near-perfect October and what could have been imprinting themselves across a generation.

To be a Mets fan, was to live and die with each pitch. Each hit. To hold your breath and wait for magic that lingered beneath skin and forced its way into bloodstreams.

To be a Mets fan, was to hate anyone wearing a Chase Utley jersey.

“Stew, stew, stewing, a rather hearty beef stew.” Nina narrowed her eyes. “What are you talking about?” “You are stewing,” Jesper said pointedly, as if it was an obvious affliction and they both hadn’t casually descended into madness caused by extra innings. Putting a runner on second was supposed to help avoid all of this. Runs were meant to be scored in extra innings. Nothing had happened yet. “Any more and that little divot between your eyebrows is never going to disappear. Then what will we do?” Answering would only acknowledge that the divot was more like a rather obvious ravine now, and the little half-moon circles left by her nails were going to be permanently etched into Nina’s palm.

He was still keeping score.

How he hadn’t run out of columns in his scorebook was beyond her, but Nina figured if the muscle was someone willing to purchase a scorebook, he probably made sure it was one that also included, like, fifteen innings on each page.

If they made it to the fifteenth inning, she would cry.

It would be embarrassing.

Jesper probably wouldn’t come back for the rest of the series. If she cried, that was. And she needed him to come back for the rest of the series. Sitting anywhere else wasn’t all that appealing, even if it might have been warmer up there now.

She wrapped her arms around herself. Better to stew with, that way.

“Do games normally last this long?”

Nina shook her head.

Jesper groaned. Loudly, complete with his head thrown back for extra emphasis and even clearer frustration and she didn’t think she imagined the way the muscle tensed. Staring at him was becoming something of a pastime in the middle of a more acceptable one. Light didn’t quite reflect from the hair she was starting to become just a hint obsessed with, but it certainly appeared determined to try, and his ability to hold so much tension in the region directly surrounding his jaw would have been impressive in any other circumstance.

As it was, Nina was a little concerned about the state of the muscle’s back molars.

It was why she didn’t react as quickly as she should have. Or so she would argue for the rest of time.

Once she got the popcorn off her feet.

A waterfall of butter-coasted kernels landed on her shoes, a few bouncing as she did, thrust out of her seat like a canon. Whatever bit of her heart that existed solely to document the ebbs and flows of the New York Mets success flew into her throat, where it immediately took up residence directly in the middle. Wide eyes immediately started to water, which brought her straight back to the entirely metaphorical cliff of her potential embarrassment and the muscle was leaning forward.

With his own brand of emotion.

No obvious tension, just that steady sort of hope born among the din of baseball-type sounds and, even more importantly, baseball-type feelings and Nina was mumbling.

“Turn ‘em, turn ‘em, turn ‘em, two, two, two, two, get the—” Suggesting she screamed made it seem as if she weren’t in complete control of her faculties. And despite the potential of extra innings insanity, Nina was just as lucid as ever and just as capable of throwing her hands in the air, while also screaming.

Undeniably so.

As soon as the ball jumped over the outstretched glove at short, Francisco Lindor’s lanky and overpaid body stretched out across the infield grass. Curses flowed from Nina’s mouth, some of them sharp enough to make even Jesper choke on whatever bits of oxygen he was able to gulp down, and she didn’t stop. Kept screaming and shouting, increasingly mobile hands and dexterous shoulders, miming her own throw home because whoever was playing left field was not moving quickly enough for her.

He didn’t make the throw.

Not in time, at least.

Dirt flew into the air as a leg stretched over home plate and the umpire’s arms were nearly as impressive as Nina’s. Marking the runner safe and giving the Phillies their first and only lead of the night.

Frustration mingled with out-of-place despair, far too early in the series and the season to be feeling quite as desolate as Nina suddenly was and, really, she wasn’t sure why she looked. Something about magnets, or simple curiosity, but her eyes drifted and her head tilted and she felt her jaw drop as his stupid, little pencil scratched out E6 in his scorebook.

“What the hell, man?”

He didn’t turn. Figured. Screaming was becoming her base setting, so Nina wasn’t entirely surprised that the muscle didn’t acknowledge it, but then she was moving and leaning and tapping on a shoulder that somehow seemed sturdier when she had kneed it several innings earlier.

“That’s not an error.” Moving in slow motion only made sense if the man was, in fact, a piece of marble. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead, acting as little paths toward his eyes and they were still blue. Good, that was good. Bad, that was bad.

Jesper wasn’t even trying to contain his laughter.

“Excuse me?” “Not an error,” Nina repeated, careful to pause between each word for emphasis. The muscle didn’t flinch. Stared at her incredulously, though. “Did you not see that hop?” “I saw your multi-million dollar man throw his arm out without much regard to actually making a routine play. Is that what you’re talking about?” “How is that possibly an error?” He lifted a shoulder. She was boiling over. “Should have made the play.” “It was impossible!" “C’mon now,” he chuckled, and the good fought with the bad. A symphony of contradictions blaring between Nina’s ears. Neither of which were steaming, it seemed. “Nothing is impossible in baseball.” “That was!” “Might need to come up with a better argument.” “Home scorer is not going to give Francisco an error on that. He had to dive!” “Maybe he should have been in better position, to begin with.” “The shift was on.” “Well, the shift is ruining baseball, so—” Nina gagged. Let her tongue push between rows of teeth that she couldn’t believe were going to survive the rest of the night if the acid churning in her esophagus was any indication. He looked. Again. Whatever heat lapping at the base of her spine was only marginally distracting. “A baseball purist cannot possibly wear the jersey you are wearing.” “I wasn’t aware of the rules, but, please, go on.” “Fuck. Off.” “Getting less and less creative.” His eyes hadn’t moved. As if he was documenting each twitch of her lips for his own personal posterity. Nina found she didn’t mind the idea as much as she should.

Jesper was going to crack a rib.

“Chase Utley is an asshole who doesn’t know how to slide.” “Ok.” “An asshole!” “I heard you the first time,” he said, losing the war with his lips. Curled up, they cut across the serious mask his face had become in the world’s least serious conversation. It was nice that Jesper ended up crying before Nina, honestly. “And he wasn’t a Phil when he hurt your guy, so I don’t think that should count at all.” Nina did not know what noise she made. Wasn’t human. Hurt a little. “Did you just call him a Phil?” “Guys,” Jesper mumbled, but she couldn’t be bothered with something as menial as the bottom of the inning when the muscle in front of her kept doing that thing with his eyes and his hair and—

Reaching out, she managed to bypass his rather impressive reaction time, grabbing the pencil before he could stop her and the crack of it between her fingers was as loud as any grand slam this slightly ugly ballpark had ever witnessed.

Not that Nina would ever admit she thought Citi Field was slightly to moderately ugly.

It was the color scheme. Way too much green involved.

She gave herself exactly seven seconds to relish the look of pure amazement on the muscle’s face.

“Use a pen,” Nina sneered, “at least stand by your scoring convictions.” “Chase Utley is going to be in the Hall of Fame.” “As a Phil?” “World Series champion.”

His ability to emphasize words with meaningful pauses was far better than Nina’s. “It wasn’t an error.” “You’re paying that guy more than anyone in the world deserves to get paid, if he’s going to lay out for a liner, then he should be able to make the play, don’t you think?” Nina bit her lip. Boiled. Stewed.

Ah, damn.

Her silence was an answer in the middle of a sea made up of equally disheartened fans. Who all suddenly remembered how terrible they looked in orange. Always worse after a loss.

The muscle nodded. Once. Exhaled. Through his nose. As if he’d won, and not just his team, and Nina didn’t offer to replace his pencil.

On a Friday night in May, Nina genuinely believed that he wouldn’t come back. Hoped for it, even. And something else almost akin to the exact opposite.

Both were very strange feelings to feel contained in one human, body. Draped, even as it was, in blue and orange and New York City’s less famous pinstripes. With PIAZZA splashed across her back, Nina felt as if she were obligated to sit a little straighter. As if slumping in her seat — by herself tonight because Genya was not at all interested in sitting in the stands and Zoya would have laughed at the suggestion, and Jesper had to get back to the Crow Club — would somehow tarnish the reputation of a name that didn’t belong to her.

Didn’t it, though? Just a little. Wasn’t that how sports worked? Throwing yourself into the camaraderie with both feet and occasionally flailing arms, willing to sit in an uncomfortable seat that she’d have to mention to Nikolai at some point because these were starting to feel a bit like torture devices masquerading as plastic, and a piece of paper floated onto her lap.

He’d folded the piece of paper.

The muscle. Not Nikolai. Who was sitting in the owner’s box, in fact. Nina assumed those seats weren’t rising up in revolt against him.

The muscle wasn’t wearing a jersey this time. A cup of what smelled like over-brewed coffee, though, was held tightly in his left hand, while the right clutched his scorebook as if it were made of gold. Nina’s tongue swiped her teeth.

He watched.

Documented.

Kept track.

“What the hell is this?” “Is that your favorite curse, you think?” “Why are you throwing paper airplanes at me?” Lifting shoulders appeared to be his default form of response. “Felt just quirky enough not to be overtly threatening.” “Because of the guns generally associated with fighter planes?” “What do you know about fighter planes?” Rolling her whole head did not get her a smile. Or even a hint of such a thing. It did get him a few grumblings of frustration from those whose view he was blocking. Because there was so goddamn much of him. Imposing, that was the word for it. Taking up space and settling into the seat with a near amazing amount of grace, practically folding in on himself, like he was made of smooth lines and crisp edges, capable of soaring through air in a way that belied that flimsy nature of paper airplanes, and there was that word again.

“Always liked the ones that had painted teeth on them,” Nina said, somehow fully prepared for the huff of laughter that fell out of him. He pulled a pen out of his jacket pocket.

To hand to her.

“You would.” “What is that supposed to mean, exactly?” “It means,” he said, nodding at the pen when she kept gaping at it, “that in my limited experience with you, Ms. Met—”

“Thought we covered lack of creativity last night.” He ignored her. Eventually, it might be a good idea to learn his name. Where that might also be the worst idea in the history of the world. Maybe Nikolai could track him down. Like through ticket sales, or something. That seemed like a breach of power, though.

“You do have a rather impressive set of teeth on you, yourself.” “Oh, that’s an insult.” “Should unfold the paper airplane.” Most of her wanted to crumple up the piece of the paper, toss it back in his face and then possibly stab him with his own pen. But Nina also didn’t know the muscle’s name, and cold-blooded murder on a Friday night in May required a certain sense of personalization that they hadn’t quite reached yet. So, there was no crumpling. Her fingers didn’t shake. Her heartbeat held steady in her chest.

Unfolding the paper with his eyes on her, Nina did hold her breath. For eight straight seconds, approximately. Until it all rushed out of her, entirely amazed and perpetually annoyed because the paper airplane left creases between the boxes of what was very clearly her own personal scoresheet.

With provided pen.

“This is a trick.” “That not being a question gives me pause,” he said, but it sounded like an admission. One tinged with regret. Presumably for Chase Utley’s tendency to be a complete and utter asshole. Prone to injuring Mets’ middle infielders.

“Is it not?” He shook his head. And the pen in his hand. “Get to stand by the convictions of your scoring actions.” “Errors occur only on routine plays.” “Yuh-huh.” “You’re here by yourself.” “Also not a question.”

“Or an answer,” Nina pointed out.

“Where’d your friend go?” “What do you put in your coffee?” “Nothing,” he answered, “seriously, where’s the friend?” Something lingered on the edge of the question. Something Nina didn’t want to notice, but couldn’t possibly ignore. Not when it came with concave shoulders, curling toward her like they were preparing themselves to block wind and glares in equal measure. The second of which was really a more pressing problem at the moment.

“Had to work.” “As a stand-up comedian?” “Hardy har har,” Nina grumbled. Leaning back against the force of his ensuing smile was as natural as wearing a Mike Piazza jersey and searching for the prize at the bottom of a Cracker Jack box. What she was less prepared for was the ability of that same smile to twist its way between her ribs, lighting another new and imaginary fire and if her mouth dried just a bit, then that was neither here nor there.

Between her and the baseball gods, fickle as they were.

“You don’t put anything in your coffee?” He shook his head. “Sugar makes me nauseous.” “God, what a depressing way to live life.” “Eh, there are things that make up for it.” “Chase Utley?” “I think you might be obsessed,” he said, dropping into his seat so as to avoid being pelted with cheese fries from Shake Shack. The guy three seats away looked real serious. “Going to write him a letter asking for a game of catch?” “You’re making pop culture references.” “Not a question, either.” “No, a stunned statement of fact.” She wanted that laugh on loop. Wanted it to play as the soundtrack for the rest of the night and the rest of the series and quite possibly the rest of her life, lingering softly in the background of everything she did for the rest of forever.

Matching in perfect rhythm to the predisposed nature of her blood to boil.

“Where are all your friends, then?” Nina asked, almost desperate to change the direction of the conversation and her internal dialogue. The blue evolved. Right there in his eyes. Darkened until it looked like the sky before a storm and that was ten-thousand times worse than any other drivel she’d come up with so far.

Licking her lips was idiotic. Naturally, that’s what she did.

“Not here,” he replied, “but I know the hitting coach.” Strictly speaking, that should not have been quite as awe-inducing as it was. Nina hadn’t paid for her tickets, after all. Had no intention of paying for tickets ever again, if she was being honest. So, really, seeing how caution swept the muscle’s face was kind of a dick move.

On her part, specifically.

“Should I be impressed?” Shoulder lift, right on cue. “I knew him in college. Was, uh—” “—Wait, did you play baseball?” Color didn’t rise on his cheeks. Not in any romantic way. Nothing about it was swepping, which was good because the Phillies had won the night before, meaning any sweeping would also guarantee Mets losses. It arrived in splotches. Bits of pink and nearly-red, tiny pinpricks of unregulated emotion that immediately affected the ability of Nina’s pulse to stay even.

She grinned.

Wide and honest, ignoring the strands of hair that fell in her eyes when she let her head fall.

He didn’t look away.

She’d think that was important, later.

“You contain multitudes, Muscle.” “Insulting,” he grumbled. “Quite possibly the tallest man I’ve ever encountered in the flesh.” “That can’t possibly be true.” “You don’t look like a baseball player.” Back to the correct shade of blue. Just for a moment. Disappearing in the haze of a 90 mile per hour fastball. Right up the middle. But Nina had always been fairly good at tracking pitches, and she might not have been a former baseball player, but picking out the slider amongst a never-ending stream of heaters was like her personal superpower.

“So I’ve heard.” “From scouts?” “Sometimes, yeah.”

“Of the professional variety?” “Every now and then.”

Letting out a low whistle, Nina’s spine relaxed. Tension that had taken root between her shoulder blades loosened, watching the face in front of her and the mask it was so obviously clinging to. Kept slipping, though. While staring directly at her.

It was, she would argue, why she did what she did. Without mumbling.

“You wanna sit?” “With you?” “Rude. You threw paper at me.” “It was a well-constructed airplane,” the muscle argued, “so you could also score the game. This was a nice thing I was doing.” “Past tense.” “Am doing,” he corrected. “Currently.”

“That mean you're going to sit?”

She counted. Seconds. Moments. Breaths. Dug her teeth into her lower lip. Against the side of her tongue. He nodded.

And climbed over the seat.

So, that was only going to marginally mess with her brain.

“Alright then,” Nina said, doing her best to flatten her paper against the bend of her knee, “tell me everything about your baseball tale of woe.”

He didn’t.

At least not at first.

It took until the fourth inning for them to begrudgingly agree that mowing patterns in the outfield was an abstract art form that did not often get the credit it deserved, before deciding, in no uncertain terms, that the NL East boasted some of the better uniform options in all baseball, even if that was mostly because of the Marlins and—

His hand moved to his shoulder.

The right one. More than once. Gently massaged the muscle there, a slight grimace that Nina only noticed because she was sitting squarely in the middle of objectification and she didn’t even know his name. Yet, she reminded herself.

They’d get there.

They didn’t. Not in that game, anyway.

A Saturday afternoon in May didn’t present the same sort of chill that required scalding hot coffee with absolutely nothing else in it, but Nina was playing with hope and resting on her not-so-cautious expectations. Seeing how wide his eyes could get was extra.

Sugar on top, if you will.

They got very wide. Frozen, even. Stuck halfway down the row, still no jersey, just his dropped jaw and slumped, possibly injured shoulders, ignoring the jabs from nearby season ticket holders who were starting to believe this mountain of muscle existed solely to block their sight lines.

Nina figured that’s what it was, at least.

He smiled.

That smile. Her smile. When she’d begun to claim it, she couldn’t begin to pinpoint, but it might have been six and two-thirds innings into last night’s game when his left arm had bumped her right, just enough warmth wafting off him to be noticeable. To leave goosebumps in his awake, too.

“There’s no sugar in it,” she promised, “so you don’t have to worry for the state of your stomach.” “I didn’t once think you were trying to poison me.” “High praise.” “Deservedly so.” She flushed. Ducked her eyes. Tried not to chew her tongue in half, or allow the burning-hot blood racing through every single one of her extremities to burst its way out of her skin. That would be off-putting. And traumatic.

“Here,” he added, tugging another folded piece of paper out of his back pocket, “for you.” “Are you printing these off in the hotel?” “Should be a private investigator, Ms. Met.” “Did your coach make you stay in Queens, Muscle?” The hand that landed on her waist — to move her, just to move her — was warm and blistering and those were two very different words with a pair of very different meanings and even more jarring consequences, and he sat down next to her.

Huh.

“Been taking the train in from Grand Central.” “Ugh, he’s making you stay over there? There’s no good food in that part of the city.” “Quiet, though.” Sticking her tongue out when she gagged continued to be one of Nina’s less impressive traits. “I blew my shoulder out my junior year of college.”

One of Nina’s knees buckled. Only one. The right one, actually. She refused to believe that was a sign. From baseball gods, or otherwise. “Hitting?” “Throwing. Probably because of the hitting, but the blowing out actually happened on what was considered by most in the know to be a pretty routine throw from left field. Hurt like hell.” “Yeah, I bet.” “I don’t remember a ton of what happened right after. Might have yelled? Quite possibly blacked out. Definitely heard something snap, which admittedly terrified me, but then there were a bunch of people talking and walking me down the tunnel and more lights and tests. The phrase never the same again was thrown around with alarming regularity.”

Cold. Nina was cold. Freezing beneath a mid-afternoon sun, one of those May days that tease of summer yet to come. They smell like cotton candy and potential, of a distinct lack of responsibility and SPF 70.

She had sensitive skin.

“Were you by yourself?” Asking questions she somehow already knew the answer to was equal parts cruel and unusual, particularly when asking it of a man whose name never got to back pages. Or her ears, it seemed. She swallowed whatever was sitting in the back of her mouth.

“Brum was there,” he said, but it sounded like an excuse. A practiced line that had started to reek of insincerity. “My—well, my parents had been gone for a while. Same old sob story you always hear, y’know? Kid loses everything, finds salvation in the dogma of sports, gets pretty good at it, and then—” “—Loses it all again?” Nina finished. She thought she did. Whoever was talking didn’t sound like Nina. Sounded like someone who had painstakingly refolded her paper airplane the night before. To keep on the nightstand next to her bed.

“Some of it, yeah. They wanted me to stick around. Stay on staff. Coach. But that was—” He clicked his tongue. Distant eyes stared past that goddamn M&Ms ad, and Nina didn’t think. Wasn’t that how the best athletes were, though? All instinct and lightning-fast reaction times. Responding to a situation before the rest of us mere mortals could even begin to fathom the circumstance.

He didn’t push her hand off his.

The coffee was going to go cold.

“Very maudlin way of approaching things.” She chuckled. Tried not to cry, for entirely new reasons. “Impressive vocabulary for a jock.” “Keep workshop'ing your insults, Ms. Met.”

“Brum, he just got hired by the Phillies, right?” She knew that answer too. “Is this the first game you’ve been to?” His eyes slid to hers. In that same slow motion as before, and that couldn’t possibly have been less than seventy-two hours ago, but life had a tendency to be weird like that and good like that and, well, you can’t predict baseball, Suzyn.

“Why the Mets?” It wasn’t the question she expected. Felt far too big and more than a little terrifying, jumping into the deep end of the pool from the highest diving board. But that same pool was always crystal clear, the sort of blue they wrote songs about. Summertime and the living was easy. That sort of thing.

“Because there’s something wonderful in a team that defies every bit of sports conjecture. That breathes in the chaos and spits out something that, every now and then, is absolutely beautiful. That lets me be bigger than myself for nine innings and a minimum of one-hundred and sixty-two games. That takes all my shortcomings and accepts them because one time this team claimed there was a raccoon fighting with a rat in the dugout tunnel. Because they don’t play The Imperial March during lineup announcements.” Something, something—she needed better sunscreen.

So as to not get burned by the force of his sun-like smile.

“I think a raccoon could probably take a rat, don’t you think?” “I don’t know,” Nina wavered, “I own a fair amount of Staten Island Pizza Rat merch.” His hand flipped. Fingers curled around hers and held on with an ease that settled her acid and cooled her blood, finally finding that middle ground between frigid and fission.

“Explain the single seating.” “I had a friend here on Thursday.” “And he had to go back to work. Where does he work?” “Bar in Jersey.” Curiosity flashed in the blue, but then it was gone and Nina must have imagined it, looking for more common ground and mutual understanding. Her fingers looked minuscule between his.

“If I told you that I know the new owner of the Mets,” Nina started, “because I went to college with his girlfriend, and he’s been listening to me talk about this team for the better part of a decade now, so he decided to spend some of his inherited millions to buy it, and now that same girlfriend is sitting up there perpetually confused why I like to be out here, do you think you’d hate me on principle?” One blink. Two. Head tilt. Jaw clench. His lips popped when they opened.

“No.” “No?” “No,” he echoed, “Nikolai Lantsov shouldn’t have spent so much money on your shortstop’s contract.” “Wasn’t an error.” Both shoulders lifted.

“Nina Zenik,” she said, a tardy greeting that should have happened well before the hand holding. The hand holding continued.

“Matthias Helvar.” “Did you bring a pen?” He pulled another one out of his jacket pocket.

They disagreed on no less than half a dozen calls. Impressive, since they didn’t actually start paying attention to their separate score sheets and books until early in the third inning after Nina had barely cleared the cheese sauce off the corner of her page.

Introducing themselves made it feel as if they’d crested another level in whatever the proper term for this not-quite relationship was.

Jabs weren’t nearly as sharp, but elbows brushed and noses scrunched. Makeshift disdain blurred against subtle infatuation, sunshine in his hair and pressing against the barrier of Nina’s consistently reapplied sunscreen. They talked. Laughed. Shouted and screamed, standing at different times. Much to the chagrin of everyone around them.

She didn’t bother asking about the Chase Utley jersey. Knew that it was as much a part of Matthias’s fandom as the Piazza jersey was to hers. Connecting him to something that was only partially his, because no matter how much this sport might be capable of sweeping over them, of bringing them along with the current, there was a riptide always threatening just below the surface. Capable of drowning and filling lungs, leaving them both taking on water and hastily constructed metaphors.

Plus, they both hated the Yankees. So, they talked about that.

Talked about places in the city they liked to go, Nina’s knowledge of hole-in-the-wall restaurants leaving his eyes as wide as she’d hoped they could be, tiny pools she was more than willing to dive into. With perfect form.

Laughter became the new normal for the pair of them, chancing glances when they thought the other wasn’t looking. They always were. As if those magnets were real and forceful, leaving them both grinning like idiots whenever they were caught in the act.

Once an inning, then.

Matthias didn’t sing during the seventh-inning stretch, but Nina was loud enough for the pair of them. Especially when she was standing on her seat, a hand flat on the small of her back.

“So you don’t fall,” Matthias explained, and the words immediately branded themselves on that corner of her brain where Nina kept good things.

They shared a plastic helmet of swirl ice cream. With rainbow sprinkles.

He called them jimmies.

She made fun of him.

And then—

It was over.

No drama. No walk-off hits. No extra innings. Just a Mets win that didn’t require the bottom of the ninth. And she was happy with that, she was. Less so with the way her stomach dropped as soon as her knees bent and her chin lifted, barely tempered hope and the sort of want that did not require magnets to direct her gaze.

Matthias loomed above her, casting shadows and the desire to finally push her fingers into his hair was nearly too much to ignore. Nina did. In favor of what came next because she knew what came next, and this was not that serious. Sitting on opposing lines of a flimsy at best baseball rivalry did not mean she couldn’t push up on her toes and catch the mouth of someone who no longer felt like a stranger. Until that same mouth inevitably opened and she got to do whatever she wanted with her tongue.

Only—

One of the season tickets started grumbling, and the sea of fans pushed forward and the only way Nina stayed upright was because of the arm around her waist. Matthias’s nose ticked her skin along the back of her neck.

“Told ya,” he mumbled, and if he saw the goosebumps, he didn’t mention them.

That was nice.

He was nice.

She was—

A mess, at best.

Mostly because there was no kissing. Almost like they were nervous of what would happen if they did. Of shattering this tremulous understanding and shaky alliance, but Matthias’s fingers squeezed Nina’s hip before he said, “See you tomorrow.”

She did not see him tomorrow.

When tomorrow was tonight and now and Zoya and Genya kept doing circles around the room.

Sunday Night Baseball on ESPN required a certain amount of protocol and it was the first broadcast with Nikolai in the owner’s box, which meant plenty of shots at the owner’s box, and Nina sat in her very plush, decidedly warm seat, with only minimal argument.

There was champagne, so. That helped.

Plus, she figured she’d— “Is it a guy?” Genya asked without preamble, propping her chin on her hand. “Is that why you don’t want to hang out?” Nina sighed. “You know me better than that.” “Sure, sure, sure, looked real cozy down there, though.” “Are you spying on me?” “Nah, Zoya was.” Frustration clawed at Nina’s consciousness. Surprise did not. This was par for the course and several other out-of-place sports cliches.

Zoya finished her drink before adding, “I didn’t leave this suite all afternoon, yesterday, the security guards that Nikolai knows in that section though…” “That’s splitting hairs,” Nina argued. “And they were just doing their job,” Nikolai added, shouting in a way a multi-millionaire absolutely should not. Zoya rolled her eyes.

“Whatever they were doing,” Nina said, “they didn’t need to be doing it. What if someone got robbed while they were watching me?” “You think people are getting robbed in broad daylight inside this stadium?” “Maybe!” “Were lots of Phillies fans here,” Genya pointed out. Laughter clung to her words, quiet snickers from the rest of the assorted peanut gallery. Before they noticed that Nina wasn’t lacking. Might have paled, if the matching expressions she was met with were any indication. “Oh,” Genya exhaled, “good looking Phillies fan, huh?” Nina grit her teeth. “He knows Brum.” “The bastard,” Nikolai sneered.

“Most people don’t like him.” “Because he’s a bastard, yeah.” “How’d the Phillies fan know Brum?” Zoya asked, and it wasn’t like Nina wanted to tell them. Words poured out of her all the same, excitement carving its way into the conversation because even if she could rationalize the lack of kissing after a three-day conversation and occasional argument, none of her friends could understand how she didn’t get his number.

Neither could she, quite frankly.

“This is either disgustingly romantic,” Nikolai said, “or it’s exceedingly dumb. Of both of you.” Genya clicked her tongue. In agreement, Nina figured. “Second one, for sure. Do we have to go arrest him for something? Bring him up here, nervous and scared—” “Same sentiment,” Nina mumbled. “—Only for him to see you, awash in a sea of moonlight and outfield lights, and then you live happily ever after despite your baseball allegiances?” “He hates the Yankees too.” “Something, at least,” Zoya said, but it was missing the edge. The acid. The anger Nina had almost prepared herself for. “You going to go down there, or….”

Finishing the sentence was pointless when Nina was already standing, Nikolai’s laugh ringing in her ears as she did her best to push her finger straight through the elevator button. She bobbed on the balls of her feet, impatience skittering up her spine and there were too many buttons and too much laughter, but that was likely a good thing, and the security guards didn’t stop her.

From running into the section.

Only to find two sets of empty seats. His and hers. A weird, depressing, matching set.

Nina waited. Stood at the top of the section stairs, waiting for a flash of familiar hair or those eyes that she probably hadn’t dreamed about the night before. Never came. The goosebumps did, for an entirely new and even more depressing reason.

The security guard asked her to leave. Twenty-eight minutes after the last out.

Matthias hadn’t been at the game.

To be a Mets fan, was to wait.

For wins. For David Wright’s body to heal. For that same rush that came in 2015, only this time, it also came up with a World Series championship attached to it.

Nina wasn’t very good at waiting.

Summer crept forward. As it was apt to do. Going back to the ballpark was second nature to Nina, but the Mets were on their West Coast swing, and spending a week and a half with Zoya and Genya touring the greater California coast wasn’t entirely appealing. So, she was in New Jersey.

Leaning against the bar of the Crow Club, Nina watched the crowd. Most of them saturated with fruity alcohol, drinks that never came with those little umbrellas because the thought of such a thing would have set Kaz’s teeth on edge, but this was Atlantic City and that required a certain level of nonsense to be met consistently.

Plus, Nina knew Inej liked those drinks.

And that was that, for Kaz. As they say.

Heads turned at tables while she watched, conversations that only occasionally acknowledged the baseball games on TVs hanging above them, others recounting beach exploits from that afternoon and plans for the rest of the evening, a steady din of noise and humanity that somehow made it easier for Nina to breathe.

It smelled like salt when she did.

“Looking awfully thoughtful,” Inej said, appearing out of nowhere to grin knowingly at Nina. “Give you a nickel for them.” “They’re not worth that much.” “What about one of those tokens from the casino down the boardwalk?” “Does Kaz know Jesper went to play there again?” “Absolutely.” “And?” “And what?” Inej parroted. “Who are you looking for, exactly?” “No one.” It was the wrong answer. A telling answer. An answer Nina didn’t realize she was capable of providing until the very moment those five letters in that specific order passed between lips in desperate need of ChapStick. And kissing. Gods, she couldn’t believe she hadn’t kissed him.

“Our dear, darling Nina is pining,” Jesper explained. Drink in hand, the soft clink of casino tokens was as absurd as it was not, a mix of youth and age and responsibility and not. The perfect blend of summertime status.

Nina took a sip of his drink before he could offer. She assumed he would offer.

“For that,” Jesper hissed, “I’ll tell Inej the rest of the story.” He did. Spared no expense, really. Recounted scorebooks and shouting matches, although some dramatic license was taken at that point, drawing a small crowd that included a guy Nina had never met before, staring openly at Jesper like he’d hung the moon. She’d make fun of him for that. Maybe. After the story. Probably.

Inej was a rapt audience, taking in details and occasionally letting her eyes flit toward Nina. Who never once disputed anything. There was nothing to dispute. The goddamn paper airplane was still sitting on her goddamn nightstand.

“And you just never saw him again?” Inej asked. Nina shook her head. “That’s tragic. Not—maybe not grand scheme, world level, but tragic all the same.” “No kissing either,” Jesper added.

Nina’s heart dropped. Shattered at her feet. Like one of those plates, you could shoot at in the arcade. “How do you know that?” “I didn’t, until right now. Simple assumption, though. Who could pine at your level if there’d been previous making out?” “Two different things,” Inej murmured.

Jesper hummed in agreement. “And Nina wanted both. Fraternizing with the enemy.” “He hated the Yankees, too.” “So, what? The enemy of my enemy is my friend? My good-looking friend?” “He was good-looking, right?” That earned her another hum — and got Jesper a look of passing consternation from the guy at his side. Nina desperately needed to learn names in a more timely fashion. Determined to remedy at least one situation, she took a deep breath and immediately, very nearly died.

It was very dramatic.

Sweeping, even.

Because the door opened and she knew the music didn’t stop and the Earth didn’t pause mid-rotation, but it felt like her center of balance had been inextricably altered and that wasn’t the bad thing it should have been when Matthias Helvar took his first step into the Crow Club.

Not falling over really was a rather monumental miracle.

If she decided to move, Nina did not remember it. Could not bother with something as menial as cognitive reasoning or the ability of the neurons in her brain to properly fire, not when she was twisting around tables and reminding herself of all the very important properties oxygen possessed. In regard to continued consciousness.

He didn’t move. He waited. Watched. Documented her, it felt like.

She wasn’t entirely opposed.

Their shoes nearly brushed.

“Huh,” Matthias breathed, slumping slightly to get into her eye line. Or just closer to her. The specifics didn’t matter. “I was right, then.” “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” “You said your friend worked at a bar in Jersey.” “This is a bar in Jersey.” “Yeah, we might be going in circles, actually.” “What are you doing here?” Nina was dimly aware of Jesper shouting something, but the buzz between her ears was far too loud and even the concept of pulling her gaze away from Matthias’s made her want to grit her teeth together until she ground them down completely.

She licked her lips.

He smiled. “After I got hurt,” Matthias explained, “I didn’t know what way was up. So, I went...up. Best as I could, really, up the Shore.” “Is that a joke?” “No, I thought your friend looked familiar. Was driving me nuts, honestly.” “How?” “Twenty questions, Ms. Met.” “Matthias!”

Her voice cracked. Her foot stomped. Air crackled and the world very likely did shift because the hands on Nina’s cheeks were warm and perfectly sized to pull her that much closer and she was legitimately proud of herself. For not stepping on his feet. He didn’t really give her the chance.

Rocking against each other, there was a joke about tides and current to be made and Nina pushed them back, down or up, and direction didn’t matter and time didn’t matter. Sports allegiance was the least of her worries. Not when Matthias’s arm found her waist and there was something to be said for the stretch of his upper body. Capable, as it was, of lifting her up and he was ten-thousand times better at any tongue thing than she could have possibly imagined.

Tracing her lips and twisting around her own, like he was taking a very personal and detailed inventory. One of his thumbs brushed against Nina’s cheeks, but she honestly couldn’t figure out which one. Everything was sensation and feeling, a bases-clearing double that kept the rally alive and the roar in the background wasn’t the crowd at Citi Field, but Inej perched on the edge of the bar and Jesper balanced on the rungs of a rickety stool, and they only broke apart to fall back together.

Nina closed her eyes.

Better to remember, that way.

To let her breath catch whenever Matthias’s neck dipped again, the sort of angle that sonnets were written for, and epic romances documented. Right side up and cross dimensions and Nina’s eyelashes fluttered. Open, closed. Once, twice.

He was still there.

“You go down the Shore, everybody knows that,” Nina whispered, still somehow sounding like herself. Good, that was good. And only good, that time.

“I think you’re getting paid by the disagreement.” “I liked shouting your name.” His eyes—

Sparkled, maybe.

She didn’t even hate herself for thinking that.

“Probably about as much as I enjoyed hearing it,” Matthias said, “and I’ve been here before. Spent that summer drinking at,” his head jerked toward the corner where Inej waved, “that corner. This was as far away from school and baseball and everything I thought was gone as I could find.” “Ah, the scorebook makes sense now.” “Does it just?” “You know baseball isn’t often predictable nor nearly that organized. That’s the appeal, so people claim.” “They do,” Matthias admitted, “but I—is that demon-looking guy still working here?” “Kaz owns this bar.” “Of course he does. You know everyone, don’t you Ms. Met?” “Impressive like that.” Humming wasn’t really her favorite of the audible, non-word responses, but Nina heard something different in that sound than she ever had before. Almost like hope and something worth waiting for, if only because the waiting found her first.

She kissed the bottom of his chin.

It was all she could reach.

“I really wanted you to be here, Nina,” Matthias said, “and I’m sorry I wasn’t there Sunday. For that game, I—that wasn’t part of the plan, but...well, Brum had set up this whole interview with a college team in the middle of nowhere, thinking I’d be good with that and—” “You weren’t good with that?” His hair shook when his head did. “Not really, no.” “Did he kick you out of your hotel?”

“Smart too.” “Total package.” “Yeah,” Matthias said, a note of awe that made Nina’s skin prickle, “anyway, I’m pretty much in New York full-time now, but trying to find you there seemed impossible.” “So you figured you’d try a bar in the middle of Atlantic City?” “I leave a very strong impression,” Jesper yelled, practically jumping off the stool when Kaz glared. Inej’s smile was hypnotic.

“Something like that,” Matthias agreed, “so this is the part where we actually give each other our phone numbers and then—” His arm tightened again, finding a bit of space that certainly hadn’t been there twelve seconds before. Just enough to make sure Nina heard him mumble I like you before he kissed her. Or she kissed him.

Either or, really.

They went to Yankee Stadium on Labor Day weekend.

Nikolai pulled some strings to get them suite seats with complimentary well drinks and never-ending popcorn and both Matthias and Nina wore wholly out of place jerseys. Supporting neither of the teams on the field. Just each other, maybe. At least without much argument. They had better things to do, anyway. Fingers laced together, Nina shouted at the field and Matthias stared at anyone who dared glance in their direction and it was weird and wonderful and exactly what sports was supposed to be.

Caring about something beyond reason, something bigger and better than any one person was alone.

#matthias x nina #helnik #helnik fanfiction #nina zenik #matthias helvar #soc fanfic #insert shrug emoji here #every now and then i have these like...five hour bursts where i write all these words at once #this is the product of one of those

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

heart of gold (chapter three)

pairing: robert plant x florence bennett (oc)

warnings: domestic abuse (god sorry), jimmy bein’ a simp :)

words: 3.4k

summary: trapped in a loveless marriage to a powerful man, florence bennett lives every day in despair. after a chance encounter with a golden-haired actor, florence finds that her life will never be the same again.

author’s note: new oc alert!! this character was based off a little friend of mine... who’s helped me like. immensely. babe ily. also god this one hurt to write i'm sorry guys. hope you enjoy :)

chapters: 1 | 2

masterlist

playlist

------

The waning light of the late afternoon sun filters in through the grand windows, stained glass painting the room a myriad of colours. Polished maple shelves line the walls, packed to the brim with dusty tomes. Comfortable armchairs sit around a side table, the gilded siding gleaming. On its surface sits a dainty teacup, still steaming.

Florence strides through the aisles of the library, trailing a finger along the worn spines. The lady of the house divides her time most often between the beautiful music room and the library, as Allen leaves her to her devices, most of the day. Running a city, he always says, takes a lot of work, dear. She’s not complaining at all, if it puts her at a difference from the barbarian she is lucky enough to call a husband.

Stopping, finally, she pulls a book from the shelf, running her fingers across the letters decorating the cover, fingers catching lightly on the grooves. ‘Wuthering Heights’, the cover reads, and Florence nods, content with her choice. Drifting across the room, she settles comfortably into the plush chairs, reaching a hand out to grasp the handle of the teacup beside her. Soft spice settles over her tongue, and her chest fills with warmth, the steaming beverage warding away the slight chill in the room. Cracking open the cover, her eyes drift over the slightly yellowed pages of the novel.

“I have just returned from a visit to my landlord—the solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from the stir of society…”

The woman recites the words on the page, voice drifting high into the rafters as it flutters past her lips. Florence has always enjoyed reading aloud, as it made her feel as though she was not alone. That someone hears her, and cares to listen to the words that flow from her mouth. Allen hated it, in the beginning. When he had given her the time of day, and cared for her. Promises of forever tumbled from his lips then, instead of the insults and hurt that dripped, like a slow poison, from them now.

Shaking her head clear of those thoughts, she continues. An hour passes, then another, and Florence loses herself in the narrative. These characters, brutal and flawed, intrigued her. They enchanted her, and she was unable to put it down.

Until a set of heavy footsteps, thunderous against the polished floors, near the door to the library. She knows exactly who it is, spending as much time as she had training herself to recognize his gait. Shutting her novel with a loud snap, she looks around the room. Everything is in its place; the room is pristine, as always. Smoothing down her dress, a bright yellow with lace at the hem, she waits for the inevitable. The click of the door opening rings through the suffocating silence of the room, and Allen strolls in, perfect image maintained by his coiffed hair and expensive pinstripe suit.

“Florence, my dear. I knew I might find you here.”

“Allen, is there something wrong?” Florence replies, the hands that rest on her lap subtly trembling as she gazes at her husband. He seems to be in a good mood today. Florence only hopes it can stay that way.

“We will be putting on a ball in the coming weeks, to celebrate my proficiency as mayor. Now,” Allen slips closer to his wife, and brings a hand to her chin. Holding her in place, he presses closer, looking directly into her hazel eyes. “I hope I won’t need to reiterate this. Please do try and behave.”

“O-of course, Allen, I will—”

“We wouldn’t want a repeat performance of recent festivities, would we?”

His words make Florence’s blood boil. She sees the world in shades of angry red, and clenches her fists as tight as she can, hiding them from Allen’s view. Her knuckles are painted white with the strain of keeping her composure. A few weeks have passed since Allen rained pain and devastation upon his household, but the wounds both mental and physical are not so easily hidden, swept aside.

Pasting on an agreeable smile, cheeks straining with the effort, she nods her head. Florence knows that if she plays by his rules, she’ll remain unharmed. He’ll finally leave her alone.

“I will be on my best behaviour. Please, do not worry, dear.”

Allen tilts her head up further, to stare right into her eyes. Florence would love nothing more than to deal him the pain that he had dealt to her. To John, and to James. Instead, she raises her hand, laying it across Allen’s, as she gazes earnestly back. Touching him feels horrifyingly wrong, and it's as though fire laps at her palm.

“You will need a gown, no doubt.”

“I was planning to go into town with Ms. Weston. You remember, she—”

“I do not care who accompanies you. I care, darling, that you do not embarrass me,” The man smiles at her, sharp canines glinting dangerously in the fading sunlight, and he presses his lips to her cheek. His scent, sharp and cloying, nauseates her. Allen stands up to his full height, which, admittedly, was not much, and moves for the door. Turning back to look at her once more, he takes her in almost hungrily. “I wonder, Florence, if you still look as lovely unclothed as you do in this dress. Perhaps tonight, we may find out?”

With a sneer and a chuckle, he walks out the door, closing it behind him.

Florence’s hands unclench, finally, as subtle pain rips through her palms. Gazing down at the skin of her hand, she sees deep pink crescents. One of them is streaked lightly with blood. She had broken the skin, it seems.

Trembling hands retrieve the book from the table it had been left on, and Florence opens the cover once more. Eyes drifting down to read, she can’t seem to make sense of the words, anymore. Florence is shaken, and she knows that it is precisely what Allen wants.

It is but a game for him; a battle of control. He’s winning.

---------

“You mean to tell me that he… Oh, Florence…”

The chime of nails against delicate china rings through the luxuriously decorated sitting room, as Florence passes a teacup, the steam wafting from the top following the scent of rich spices, to the woman sitting on the plush divan. Her dress, a pastel lavender, meets the floor in a stream of tulle. Dark tresses, pulled back in a small, loose braid, curl as they fall across her shoulders.

“Emma, I have no idea what to do.”

Emma Weston had known Florence longer than she could remember. They had met when they were young, and since then, they’ve been almost inseparable. That is, until Allen came along. Slowly, almost inch by inch, he had pushed Emma out of the picture, further isolating his wife. The women seemed to meet less and less over the years, now coming together a few times a month. Emma was unmarried, and rather educated, which almost seemed to scare the man. A favourite quote of his pops into Florence’s head, then: “Educated women, well, they’ll bring the downfall of humanity.” To the women, of course, it served as a nice bit of comedy.

“My dear friend, I… Is there anything I can do?” Emma lays a hand on Florence’s shoulder, earnest eyes locked on those of her friend. Florence meets her gaze then, and the glassy hazel eyes unnerve the woman. They look defeated. “Florence, we will fix this, somehow.”

“If that is possible…”

Emma shakes her head, eyes blazing with a incendiary anger she must keep hidden from the woman sitting next to her. Florence, naive as she might have been upon entering the relationship, has done nothing to warrant this treatment, this violence. Every mention of the horrors; the atrocities, that have been committed in this house makes the woman’s blood burn in her veins. Emma settles her hand over Florence’s, rubbing calming circles into it. She knows how the other woman ticks, after the years they’ve spent together, and she can see the slight tremors that pass through her. She’s scared. Why wouldn't she be, with a husband like that, Emma thinks.

“Florence,” The sentence almost tumbles out, but she catches herself. Florence has always disliked pity, felt that it was counterproductive and useless. It does nothing to help the situation, so there is no need for it. Emma changes the subject swiftly, a bright smile tilting up the corner of her painted lips. “What else have I missed? Surely you’ve gotten up to much, with your lovely husband gone so often.”

A moment of unusual silence passes, as a blush darkens Florence’s cheeks, pink shades dancing with the freckles that linger on her skin. “Well,” Florence starts, hands fidgeting in her lap as she looks anywhere but at her friend. With a fortifying sigh, she releases the words trapped in her throat. “I’ve… I’ve been writing to a man. An actor, from the theatre we frequent.”

“Oh? How long have the two of you been corresponding? Do tell me more!”

“A month, as of next weekend—”

“A month? Florence, it’s been a whole month, and you didn’t think it right to tell me? I thought we were friends… ”

“Emma,” Florence starts, scrambling to reassure her friend, until she glimpses the smirk that dangles from her lips. A relieved sigh fills the silence that had fallen over the two, and Emma’s giggle lights up the room. “You were joking…”

“Of course I was! Now, tell me more about this mysterious actor. What do you know of him?”

“Well, I do not know his name, unfortunately. This… this is my fault. If he knew who I was; if he knew Allen, he would never give me the time of day. Emma, he is beautiful, of mind, body, and soul.”

“How do you mean?”

“It was his appearance, initially, that attracted me. He was simply irresistible,” Florence’s cheeks flush deep scarlet, as an unconscious smile blossoms across her cheeks. Her hands slash through the air as she recounts her first sighting of the elusive actor. “…James and John, thankfully, had the mind to encourage me to contact him. Emma, he is poetic and charming, yet he isn't haughty in the slightest, like some who share these traits. He’s always been perfectly kind, and charisma drips from every pore. Every letter I receive from him… Goodness, Emma, it has the same effect on me that his performance had.”

“Perhaps you should invite him to the ball.”

It was a simple statement, yet those 8 words ring like sirens in Florence’s head. Her blush deepens, and she stammers out a response, nervous hands smoothing down nonexistent wrinkles on her gown. With a deep breath, she recovers, and locks eyes with Emma, who hides a smile behind a dainty hand.

“Have you gone completely mad?”

“Think about it,” Emma starts, revealing the amused smile that she had tried to hide. Taking in the way Florence’s mouth hangs open in shock, her eyes wider than saucers, Emma continues, a giggle fluttering in the air of the expensive room. “You could slip away from the other patrons, somewhere Allen would never find you, and meet the man that stole your heart.”

Florence remains frozen, as though she were a component of a still-life painting. Her blush-pink lips form an O, and her eyebrows creep close to her hairline. Her hands, the only thing in motion, are a flurry of movement as she fidgets under Emma’s watchful gaze.

“Florence, honestly, is it truly that preposterous of an idea?”

“O-of course it is! Emma,” The woman of the house shakes her head emphatically, mind racing to come up with the perfect excuse as to why this idea, although tempting, was utterly absurd. “Look, if Allen ever… I could never subject this… this angel to that.”

“If you think it’s best not to, then I will stand with you. This is, of course, common knowledge. What I will never do, however, is sit idly by and watch you throw away your happiness, again.”

Silence sits heavy over the two women, the only sound being the light slurping of tea gone cold. Emma, chancing a glance over at her long-time friend, takes in the quiver and shake of her hand. Florence sets the fragile china cup, painted a pale sky blue, on the wooden surface of the table that rests in front of them, and relaxes back into the comfortable settee.

“Is… Is James able to attend? The ball, I mean.” The relative quiet is broken by Emma, voice faltering as she curls into herself. For as long as Florence could remember, Emma has only had eyes for James. Whenever she came to the manor, her eyes would roam the chiseled marble hallways for even a short glimpse of him, and a deep blush seemed to dust her cheeks whenever he was in the room.

“I believe he and John are working that particular night, although… perhaps you could steal him away for some time alone?”

“Florence!”

The peals of laughter that fill the room muffle the hurried footsteps fast approaching, a choked gasp and the sound of falling papers finally making the two women look up. James stands by the door, shoulders hunched as he locks eyes with Emma across the room. A collection of envelopes litter the floor, and James, scrambling to his knees with a squeak, rushes to retrieve them.

A wordless glance passes between the two friends, and Florence nods, a subtle smile lighting up her face. Emma stands, flattening down her dress with clammy hands, walks up to the man, and he looks up at her under his eyelashes, hands stilled by her appearance.

“E-Emma! H-hello, I…”

“James, your face… are you alright?”

The man nods emphatically, almost thrumming with nerves as he replies, “it was nothing, Emma. You need not worry for me.”

Her hand, palm up, rests upon his cheek as she takes in the bruising, subtle now after the days that have passed, that mottles his pale skin. Florence can almost hear the rapid beating of his heart as he gazes up at her from his position on the floor.

“I can't help my worry for you, James,” Clearing her throat awkwardly, Emma shifts her gaze to the tiled floor, her eyes widening when she glances at the stationary strewn across the ground.“May I… or rather… Do you need help?”

The servant gulps audibly, and nods, cheeks an angry scarlet to compliment the fading tones of purple. The woman kneels next to him, and retrieves the fallen letters. Glancing at it briefly, her eyes light up excitedly, as she gazes at James.

“Are these invitations for the ball?”

“They are. I was to go around the town handing them out, just now.”

Two hands brush as they reach for the last envelope, and pull back, as if electricity had struck them upon contact. Florence hides a beaming smile beneath her hand as she watches her friends. They simply cannot look away from each other. James coughs, breaking the tension that had settled over the two, and they scramble back, each holding a portion of the letters. Two piles become one, and Emma steps back, the hand rubbing at her arm betraying the picture of calm she was trying to emulate.

“M-Miss Weston, always a pleasure. How are you?”

“I-I am well, James. And you?”

“Very well. May I say, you look… lovely.” The conversation peters out as their gazes flit to the ground, and Florence, from her perch behind them, can’t help but giggle. The sound propels the servant into action, and he thrusts an envelope into Emma’s hand, backing away as if he was burned by the feel of her hand on his.

“I was supposed to stop at your residence, but since you are already here…”

With that, he turns tail and rushes out of the room, leaving Emma standing, slack-jawed. Slowly, she turns around to meet Florence’s eyes, and the disbelief present on her face is almost comical.

“Perhaps you will be the one to slip away for a moonlit dance in the end, Emma.”

With well wishes, and an earnest promise to find dresses for the ball, Emma departs, stepping into her own carriage. The flush on her cheeks was still visible.

---------

“Of all the times to run out… Just my luck.”

Soft footsteps spatter like rain across the staircase, as Florence mutters to herself. Dashing into her bedroom, she searches every nook and cranny, pulling back with a grunt dripping with frustration. The supply that had sat on the desk against the wall was usurped, and there were no traces of any sheets in the rest of the mansion’s many rooms. Except for one.

Rushing across the hall, Florence stops in front of a pinewood door, intricately carved as most things within the manor happen to be.

Allen’s study, as she’s been told time and time again, was never to be entered, by anyone except the man himself. It’s rarely ever locked, though his intimidation serves as enough of a barrier from entering, until today.

All she needs is paper, after all. About to pen yet another letter to her nameless angel, she lacked the most important element: the paper itself. Where better to find a much-needed slip, than in a study, Florence thinks as she turns the gold-gilded knob. She opens the door only to be greeted with beautiful, wide windows of stained glass, which turn the sunlight into vibrant shades of red and green. Against the wall, a bookshelf stands tall, books of every genre imaginable lining it. Against the far wall, a well-polished mahogany desk, complete with winding embellishments around the edge, sits before an elegant leather armchair.

No paper in sight, of course.

A sigh reverberates off of the maroon walls, as Florence pulls open a drawer, careful to leave things as proper as possible so as to not alert Allen. Shuffling through the first, she finds a variety of legal forms and journals, and her frustration simmers inside of her. Moving on to the second drawer, she tugs on the wood-furnished handle, and her heart shatters.

Sitting prim and proper, face up in the drawer, was a letter addressed to Allen. In a curling script that, distinctly, was not hers, reads: “To my beloved, Allen.” This one note, this blasted letter, lays on a bed of dozens of others, all addressed in the same way, in the same sprawling hand. Florence can feel streams of crystalline tears trickle down the flaming apple of her cheeks, and a violent scream catches in her throat. Her insides burn in rage, in fury, in betrayal, and if not for her grip on the desk, she would have crumpled to the floor. There were no dates printed upon the envelopes, though, judging by the sheer amount, it is safe to say that this had been going on for quite a while. Long before she had laid eyes upon her actor.

Under the pile of deceitful notes, almost mocking her, sat the coveted paper. Ripping it out of the drawer, Florence turns, eyes sweeping the room for anything out of the ordinary. Seeing perfection, she tears out of the room, crossing the hall into her chambers. She sits herself down, defeated, on the chair adjacent to the small desk. Her head falls forward into her palms, resting there until, suddenly, she slams a hand down onto the lacquered tabletop.

Allen Bennett has stolen her livelihood. He has stolen her happiness; stolen everything that he saw worth taking. Greed seeps from every pore, and there are no consequences. Allen Bennett is a foul, demonic man, and Florence must play the role of the angel. The perfect wife. She must act as Allen’s toy, only of use to him when he needs a night of pleasure.

Curling her hands into rigid fists, the woman nods resolutely, and lunges across the desk. Trusty fountain pen in a clenched hand, Florence seizes the newfound sheets, and soon enough, a river of ink flows across the page. Teardrops that trickle down the slope of her nose serve as the signature.

------

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#robert plant #led zeppelin #robert plant fanfic #robert plant x oc #led zeppelin fanfic #robert plant fanfiction #classic rock fanfic

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ultraintrovertedgryffindor · 3 years

Text

Second Chances - Mark (Midsommar)

Warning: Major spoilers for the movie, drug use, this fic is dogshite, toxic relationships, and just overall fucked up situations

~~~~~~~~~~

(my gif actually)

“Dani, do you really think it’s a good idea to go?”

Dani sighed heavily when you asked that exact question for the fourth time while she was marking her calendar for when their flight to Sweden would take place. “Yes, Y/N. I’ll be fine. I’m fine.”

You knew she wasn’t fine.

“I just, I do think getting out of this tiny little apartment would be good for you...but does it have to be on the other side of the world?”

Dani scoffed. “It’s not on the other side of the world, babe, it’s just across the Atlantic.”

“It’s far enough.” You pouted. “Plus, going with that guy isn’t a good idea either.”

“You’ve known Christian as long as you’ve known me, Y/N. You should know his name by now.”

“I do know his name, I just don’t like saying it.”

Dani frowned. “He’s my boyfriend, you’ve gotta learn to accept him at some point.”

You shook your head. “He doesn’t give you what you need, Dani. He’s terrible at supporting you all the time. He’s an asshole.”

“It’s my relationship. Not yours.” Dani snapped, quickly sighing in frustration and sitting next to you. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“No, I’m sorry. I...just want what’s best for you, that’s all.”

Dani smiled weakly, placing an arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for a side hug. “I know, babe, I know. I gotta believe this trip to Sweden is exactly what we need.”

“I really hope so, for your sake.”

Dani subtly wiped away a shed tear off her face, faking a wide smile. “So, did you decide if you wanted to go to the party tonight?”

“Depends, is Mark gonna be there?”

“You know he is.”

“Then no.”

“Come on, Mark’s a good guy.” She’s stifled a chuckle.

“Girl, you can’t even keep a straight face.” You laughed.

“You used to be date him and actually enjoyed spending time with him, ya know.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Please, it’ll be fun! Pelle and Josh will be there too, it won’t just be Mark.”

“Josh is a smart ass who gets on my nerves. I mean, who the hell studies anthropology?”

“Hey!”

“Oh hush, you’re studying psychology.”

Dani rolled her eyes. “Okay, Ms. Environmental Scientist.” She said, making you chuckle. “So, are you coming to that party with me or what?”

You didn’t really enjoy going to parties...like, at all. Even if Dani invited you to one, you always made some sort of excuse to get you out of going. But ever since the incident with her family, you felt you needed to spend every waking moment with her, mostly out of fear that you’d lose her forever. You probably spent more time with Dani than her so called boyfriend.

You felt selfish for feeling pained that Christian was the first one she called when she got the news. You knew her family, actually made an effort to get to know them unlike Christian, and always saw her parents as your own and her sister was always kind to you. You felt like you lost a lot too, but you didn’t allow yourself to feel that way for long, not when they weren’t actually your family. If you were being honest, you haven’t allowed yourself to grieve at all. You spend most of your time taking care of Dani, never having the time to do anything for yourself.

The company Dani kept also was one of the reasons you never wanted to go to one of those parties. Pelle was nice, you could actually see him as a friend. Josh was a know-it-all. To be fair, you were a know-it-all too, but at least you didn’t brag about it every chance you got.

You couldn’t stand Christian. You always saw how awful Christian treated Dani, and how she just took it. One day, you actually almost got into a psychical fight with him for how he gaslighted her. Dani didn’t talk to you for a week after that, and after that, you tried not to let your anger out because you didn’t want to lose your best friend.

Mark...god, Mark could be so annoying. You used to be a couple, it’s true. But after seeing him not do anything about his “best friend” mentally abusing his girlfriend, you couldn’t just stay with him anymore, it just didn’t feel right. Plus, him being way too overprotective was not something that you liked in a person. It was heartbreaking since you actually liked him a lot, you could’ve truthfully say you loved the guy.

You didn’t dislike Mark as much as Christian, but he constantly got on your nerves after your break up. But Dani always reminded you how insecure he must’ve been after the fact. Doesn’t excuse his behavior, of course, but it did help keep your anger in check whenever he tried to push your buttons. If he wasn’t such a dick, you probably would’ve seen an actual future with him, that could’ve been happy.

Yeah...you really didn’t want to go to this party. But seeing Dani’s almost pleading face, you couldn’t argue with her.

So, you were dragged to the last party you would attend before Dani and her friends were shipped off to Sweden, until she got back.

You could see the obviously look of annoyance from Christian when you and Dani entered the apartment. He took Dani to the one of the corner’s of the room and you could faintly hear their conversation, “Why’d you have to bring her, Dani? She almost punched me in the nose last time...”

Your fists clenched instinctively, making your nails dig into the soft flesh. It hurt, but at least it kept you from socking the dude in the face like you’ve always had the urge to do. A dull glared expression settled on your face.

“Aw, is someone happy to see me?”

You immediately rolled your eyes when you heard Mark’s voice, him walking up to you with a shit eating grin plastered on his pale freckled face. “No, I think she’s probably thinking up ways to kill you, friend.” Pelle joked, making you smile a little.

“Honestly, he’s not that far off.” You shrugged, half joking.

Mark scoffed, rolling his eyes, brushing off your hurtful comment with a bitter smile. “Why are you even here? We didn’t invite you.”

“I’m here for Dani.”

“Well, we didn’t explicitly invite her either.” Pelle smacked the boy behind his head so you didn’t have to. “Dude, ow! Hey, it’s not my fault Dani’s a buzzkill.”

Almost as if you could only see red, you were about to punch the ever loving fuck out of his handsome stupid gorgeous face when Christian came up and pulled you out of the room.

“What the fuck do you want?” You hissed, forcibly pushing him away from you.

“Hey, hey, hey, I’m not looking for a fight. Okay? I have to ask you something.” He sighed.

“Spit it out then.”

“Do you want to come to Sweden with us?” He asked monotone, not hiding the glare directed to you.

“Wow, you must really want me to go.”

“It was Pelle’s idea. He thinks it would be good for Dani.”

“Since when do you care what’s good for Dani? Oh, wait, you don’t. It seems Pelle cares more for her than you do.”

“I care about Dani, okay? I care. That’s the only reason I was convinced to ask you. Please, just...she needs you. She’s your best friend, you don’t want to let her down, do you?”

Gaslighting. You knew that Christian wouldn’t be able to convince you without his number one douchebag power to make your heart bleed more than it already does. He didn’t even have to ask a second time.

And next thing you knew, you were on a plane headed to Sweden. Of course, they had to torture you with booking you a seat next to Mark. But you could handle it for Dani.

“God, I can’t wait to see all those Swedish ladies.” Mark mused, a slight smirk on his face, knowing that comment would upset you.

If those Swedish ladies had any sense, they’d stay away from the giant man completely, is what you wanted to say. But deciding to keep your comments to yourself, you just tried not to gag, rolling your eyes and keeping your eyes trained out the window, seeing the ground getting farther and farther away until your flying above the clouds.

“Silent treatment, huh? I always took you for a social butterfly.” He teased.

You took a deep breath, turning to look at him with a sickeningly sweet smile. “You do know there’s a mosquito flying around your head, right?”

The smirk on Mark’s face quickly went away, turning into a panicked expression. “Where? Where?” He almost shouted, flailing his arms around his head to swat away the imaginary insect. His panic made you laugh. You felt evil, but you convinced yourself he deserved it. When he heard you laugh, he quickly realized you lied. “Not fucking funny.” He pouted, running his hands through his hair, still paranoid.

You sighed when he kept a frown on his face, still looking around for that fake fly. “I swear, there’s no fly. This is the cleanest plane I’ve ever seen in my life, okay? There wouldn’t be any bugs in here.” You never could stay mean for long, even if it was Mark. The small grateful smile Mark gave you made it worth it, and suddenly felt your heart yearn for him against your will.

Many hours later and you finally arrived in Stockholm, only to be told you guys had to travel four more hours to get to Hälsingland. “Oh my god!” Mark whined, like a little bitch you might add.

Thankfully, you always came prepared, sticking some ear buds in and blasting music at full volume to avoid possible small talk and annoying remarks from the two frat bros. You really loved your preparedness after taking your ear buds out for one second only to hear Mark talking about seeing some video about a woman with three clits, what a moron, a cute moron...

You looked at the time, it was nearing 6 pm, but the sky was still blue as ever. It was a bit unnerving, but you tried to ignore the sense of dread you felt when you guys finally arrived to one of your destinations.

You tried not to laugh as Mark pulled his socks over his jeans and walking in a panic to try to avoid potential insect threats in the grass. “Dude, just fucking walk!” Josh fussed.

“Don’t you see all the bugs?!”

“I’m sure all those bugs are much more terrified of you than you are of them.” You voiced.

“Yeah, well, what if they’re so scared that they gang up to attack me in retaliation, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, speeding up your pace to catch up with Dani. Pelle introduced his friend, Ingemar, and his friends, Simon and Connie. They seemed like good people, until they pulled out the shrooms.

It’s not like you hated drugs, you smoked pot pretty much every other day before bed, but shrooms looked hardcore compared to grass. You did not want to partake. But Dani surprised you when she accepted the offer of the tea. “Do you think that’s a good idea, Dani?” You asked concerned.

“She can think for herself.” Christian voiced with a happy and calm tone, but you didn’t mistake the threatening undertone in his voice.

“Hey, it’s okay. Promise.” Dani reassured. You just didn’t want her to have a bad trip or anything, it’s not what she needed, as if you actually knew what she needed. You didn’t even know what you needed half the time. “Are you going to?” She asked, her hand holding onto the bag of shrooms outstretched to you.

“Oh, no. I’m good.” You backed away slightly.

“Are you sure, Y/N?” Mark asked mockingly. “You gonna be a pussy?”

Your eyes narrowed in annoyance. If only looks could kill...You grabbed the bag, popping a couple mushrooms in your mouth, immediately cringing in disgust at the taste. You chewed quickly and swallowed, almost regretting the action as soon as you did so. Since when was Mark of all people able to successfully peer pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do? The fuck?

“There’s a nice place to sit over here, guys!” Pelle voiced, motioning the group over to a tree in the middle of the field.

It didn’t take that long for the drugs to kick in. You’d never taken shrooms before, but you definitely noticed when you came up due to how the world around you was starting to look warped, almost like nature was breathing. You felt more appreciative of nature in that moment, and with Pelle talking all philosophical like, it wasn’t hard to relax into the sweet embrace of the drug.

You looked over to Dani, she was the most calm you’ve ever seen her, but you weren’t sure if that was a good thing. You snapped out of the thought, not wanting to hyper focus on a drug. “Oh fuck, a new person.” Christian groaned.

“What? I don’t want new people right now!” Mark whined.

“Now who’s being a pussy.” You mumbled, loud enough for him to hear it.

“I’m going lay down. Everyone else lay down too.” Mark settled on the ground, still breathing heavily. “Guys, do it, it feels so nice. Josh, Y/N, can you lay down please?”

“Fuck off.” You spat while Josh did as he was asked.

“Y/N, please, lay down.” You furrowed your brows when you heard the desperation in his voice, almost like he was going to cry.

“Jesus, fine.” You huffed, laying down on the soft grass.

The sun shining through the leaves of the trees was enough to put you back into a relaxed state, almost giggling at the warped rays of light. “This is nice...” You whispered to yourself.

You jolted when Dani stood up all of a sudden. “I need to go for a walk.” Dani voiced, the waver in her voice clear as day to you.

“Dani, are you okay?” You stood up, wobbling slightly, Dani’s figure waving as she walked away.

“Fine, I’m fine.”

You wanted to follow her, but were you capable enough to give her support if you were high as a kite? It didn’t matter at the point. You probably stood there trying to decide for about five minutes before you actually starting walking in the same direction Dani went, but then it was too late. You didn’t see her anywhere.

Walking into the woods, you immediately got lost in nature, enjoying the colors that seemed to be amplified from the drug. You smiled to yourself, not even the arms wrapping around your shoulders could force your mouth to pull downwards. “Hi.” Mark whispered, giggling as he tightened his embrace.

“What?”

You turned yourself around in his arms. “Why’d you follow me?”

“I’m not allowed to see what my friend is doing out in the woods?”

“I’m looking for Dani, and we’re not friends.”

Mark pouted. “We used to be more than friends. Why’d we ever break up?”

You frowned. “Cause you excused Christian’s behavior towards Dani. Plus, you were always a dick.”

“Rude. And to be fair, I’ve been trying to convince Christian to break up with her. They should’ve called it quits awhile ago.”

“The first thing you’ve said in your entire life that’s actually correct. How’re you an undergrad again?”

If you were sober, you would have never let Mark lean in and kiss you. At least, that’s what you hoped you would’ve done. But his lips were so soft and he was so gentle, you almost wished you were sober to experience the kiss better. It almost felt nostalgic in a way, even though it hadn’t been that long since you two broke up. You had to stop yourself from leaning back in for more when he pulled away.

“You reciprocated.” Mark smiled softly, caressing your face gently.

“Did I? I didn’t mean to, sorry.”

“I miss you, Y/N, a lot. I know you miss me too.” He whispered.

You shook your head and quickly walked away, not feeling like talking about...well, your feelings. Sobering up quickly after that, you kicked yourself for allowing that to happen, even if you happened to enjoy it very much.

You pretty much avoided Mark after the encounter in the woods, you were too awkward to confront your problems with other people, in that regard anyway. But thankfully, six hours after finding Dani peacefully sleeping off the drugs, it was time to hike through even more woods to get to Pelle’s village.

“So, we’re stopping in Waco before we go to Pelle’s village?” Mark joked.

Yeah, the all white clothing everyone wore did put you off just a bit, almost giving you Jonestown vibes. But they were so nice, taking your bags and giving you strawberries. They seemed like okay people.

You looked over to Mark, rolling your eyes as you saw him exhale smoke from his vape pen. Even in the presence of strangers, he still had no respect apparently. Josh even had to stop him from eating prematurely during one the first meals of the day. The ritualistic part confused you, but you just wrote it off as culture shock.

Sitting in between Dani and Pelle, you almost hit yourself for not remembering a very important fact. “Happy birthday, Dani!” You grinned. “I can’t believe I forgot, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, it’s okay.” Dani rubbed your shoulder. “Pelle actually gave me a drawing, which was incredibly sweet.” She said, causing him to have a slight blush on his face.

“I actually did get you something, but it’s in my luggage. Make sure to remind me tonight. But what about Christian?” Dani frowned. “He forgot...of course he did.”

“It’s not his fault. I forgot to remind him, that’s all.”

“Dani, you shouldn’t have to remind him.” You scoffed. “Let’s just hope he remembers soon, else I’ll have to castrate him.”

“Anyway, what’s up with you and Mark? You’ve been avoiding him ever since we hiked here.” She whispered.

You internally groaned. “I always avoid Mark.” Dani just gave you an unimpressed look. “Can you like, stop being a mind reader for once in your life?” You whined.

“What happened?”

You sighed, leaning in to whisper in her ear. “We kissed...” You quickly put your hand over her mouth to stop her from squealing like a school girl. “Shh. It was when we were both high. Didn’t mean anything, at all.”

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right?”

The conversation didn’t sway your decision to not stop avoiding Mark, you were going to avoid him for as long as possible and not even Dani could convince you to do otherwise. But you kept thinking about that kiss, and you suddenly found yourself wondering if there was any shock therapy places in Sweden.

Walking around the village a bit more by yourself to try and get some more bearings, Pelle joined you with his usual calming smile. “How are you liking it here so far?”

“It’s pretty interesting, I’d say. Living in New York never really gave me opportunities to be in nature, so this is great. I probably never wouldn’t come if it weren’t for you, Pelle.”

Pelle nodded. “I felt it was best for Dani, considering. She needs someone she can count on.”

“Yeah. It’s great that you’re looking out for her, it’s like you should be with her instead of Christian.” You cringed. “Oh god, sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. Damn it.”

Pelle chuckled nervously. “It’s okay. Speaking of couples, are you and Mark-”

“Nope.” You quickly interrupted. “Not a chance.”

He hummed in thought. “I don’t mean to pry. It’s just, he told me about what happened...”

You groaned. “That little shit.”

"You know, I think you should give him a second chance."

You laughed. "That came out of nowhere."

"No. It didn't. Mark has always had a thing for you. And I probably shouldn’t tell you this but, he always talks about how he regrets how things went between you two. He still cares about you.”

You frowned, the feeling of missing the bastard starting to bubble up in your heart. “We weren’t good for each other. He needs to grow up.”

“Yes, I do agree he’s...a bit immature.”

“An understatement, Pelle.” You snorted.

“Personally, I am a big believer of second chances. I just think what if I die tomorrow, would I be happy with my choices in life? You never know when that time will come.”

“Jesus, since when have you been so dark?”

“I’m serious, Y/N. You don’t know when you’re gonna die, so I’d try to live life without regrets.” He smiled calmly.

You kept thinking about what Pelle said well into the night. You had trouble getting over the creepiness of his statements at first, but you knew he meant well. You did miss Mark, more often than you’d admit. You hated that you kind of agreed with Pelle about the whole regret thing.

The next morning, you woke up with a terrible headache. Thinking way too hard for hours on end wasn’t good for your brain. But, it did give you some perspective on how you’d go about interacting with Mark. You admitted to yourself that you did want to be with him, but you also didn’t want to rush into giving him another chance, knowing that just a smidge of eagerness would give the man an overinflated ego.

“What was the name of that activity you said last night, Pelle?” Dani asked.

“Ättestupa.” He answered.

“Sounds fun.” You said, half joking. “Wish we knew what was going to happened, but you seem to love surprises.” You directed to Pelle, a cheeky smile on your face.

From afar, Mark couldn’t help but glare at Pelle. To anyone one else, you were just being friendly, and if Mark had any sense at all, it would’ve just been a friendly smile to him too. He couldn’t help but feel jealous, but even he knew he had no right to be jealous since you two weren’t together. Maybe that was his problem, he thought, being too overprotective when you were in a relationship with him. God, he knew being an immature bastard would bite him in the ass one day. He just didn’t realize someone important to him would be scared away in the process.

The brief eye contact the two of you made threw you for a loop, that sense of longing for one another.

“Can you two stop eye fucking each other, please?” Josh voiced rudely. Strangely, it didn’t phase the two of you. Josh only rolled his eyes. “Fine. Miss breakfast then.”

You eventually forced yourself to look away from Mark, the both of you following the rest of group outside for the meal. Of course, the only seat left was next to Mark. How convenient...

Mark was silent as you stood next to him, taking short glances at you and the ground nervously. “Somebody should tell those girls they’re walking stupid.” He joked, trying to lift some of the tension. It didn’t work.

A boy rung a bell, an old man and woman walked two their assigned seats, and everyone only sat down until they did. Another rack of culture shock moved through you were the couple started chanting in what you assumed was Swedish, but it was honestly hard to tell.

After that, you just ate your food in silence. You were annoyed that you were too awkward to even look in Mark’s direction. But eventually, he cleared his throat to speak. “Did you sleep well?”

It was odd, hearing him sound so timid and quiet. “Uh, I guess so. I don’t really remember falling asleep.” You chucked nervously.

“So...yesterday-”

“Please, don’t.” You interrupted with a huff.

“I think we should talk about it at least.”

You bit your lip in thought, silently agreeing with him. “Not right now. Maybe after, whatever Ättestupa is. Okay?”

He sighed, nodding his head. “Fine. Fine.”

Mark stayed behind as you, your friends, and the rest of the Hårga journeyed to wherever this activity was taking place. You all were standing at the bottom of a cliff, waiting. “What’s this activity supposed to be?” You asked, but no one gave you an answer.

You sighed, crossing your arms around yourself. Whatever was supposed to happen was taking a long time, you almost felt bored. But soon you really wished you’d stayed behind with Mark back at the village.

Everyone watched as the old woman stood at the edge of the cliff, holding her arms outstretched to the sky. You could sense Dani hyperventilating, and you also felt a feeling of dread. You had no idea what was happening, and it scared you.

You let out a loud gasp as the woman fell from the cliff, her body falling onto a stone platform below, her face hitting it hard enough to completely mutilate any recollection that this woman was a human being once. Her face was caved in, it almost didn’t feel real.

You were in silent shock, not comprehending anything else around you, even with how loud Simon and Connie were freaking out.

All you could do was watch as the old man did the same, walking off the cliff and hitting the platform leg first.

“Oh my god, he’s still alive...”

All of the Hårga cried out when they saw the poor man was still alive, sharing his pain that he must’ve been feeling. A few members of the village ended his suffering, taking a large mallet and caving in his face like his partner in the senicide.

One of the elders, Siv, said that taking their own lives was a great joy and that this ritual had been done for many years. You couldn’t believe how barbaric these people were when they were so nice at first. Why were all these people so unfazed by seeing their own people die violently in front of them?

All you could do was follow everyone to the village in silence. You did the same as Dani. You needed to be by yourself right now. You sped walked to the woods surrounding the village, leaning against a tree in exhaustion. Did that really happen, you asked yourself.

You slid down to the ground as you let the tears start flowing. You didn’t want to be in this place anymore, how could you? You thought back to what Pelle said. He knew that the ritual was happening and he didn’t warn you guys at all. Why would he do that?

“Y/N?” You heard a voice call out. You didn’t answer, you didn’t trust your voice not to come out distorted from your sobbing. Finally making his way through the clearing, Mark saw you hugging yourself on the ground in tears. “Are you okay? I...heard about what happened.”

“No. No, I am not okay. I just saw two people jump to their fucking deaths!” You tried not to cry.

Mark was never good an emotional support, so he simply walked over and sat next to you as you cried. You didn’t know how he managed to pull you onto his lap without you noticing, but you didn’t find it in yourself to care, so you just held onto him like your life depended on it. You didn’t want him to let you go.

“I wanna leave this place...” You mumbled.

“I think that’s understandable.”

“How’s Dani? Did you see her at all?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“I don’t want to leave without her. I gotta find her.” You wiped the leftover tears from your cheeks, standing up with along with Mark. “Will you come with us?”

Mark didn't expect you to ask that. “You want me to go with you?”

“I have a bad feeling about this place. I don’t want any one of us to stay here, but I want you and Dani to come with me at least. I...I still care about you too.” Mark blushed as soon as you said that, making you chuckle lightly. “Seeing those poor people die...I don’t want to live with regrets, I already have enough of those. I don’t want to give up on us without trying to make things work. I admit, I gave up on you too easily. I don’t want to do that again. Okay?”

Mark couldn’t help himself, he soon planted a passionate kiss on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, you weren’t afraid of opening yourself up to him anymore. You wanted him, you’ve always wanted him. It just took a rough wake up call to remind you of that.

You wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, standing on your tip toes to meet his lips easier. You felt safe in his arms, him holding you so close that the world and the messed up situation you both were in seemed to fade away. But you knew you were limited on time. You both pulled away breathlessly, wearing smiles on your faces.

“I love you.” Mark said, shocking you. “What? Live life without regrets, right?”

You laughed softly. “Yeah, you’re right. I love you.”

“Now, let’s get outta here.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Yes, I left it open ended on purpose. I’d like to think that they escaped the Hårga. But if they didn’t, at least they’re together lmao.

Whenever I feel bad that Mark died in the movie, I just think to how he must’ve put up a fight since that cunt who led him away had a busted lip. Did he deserve it? Yes, probably. But...but...he was a cutie pie🥺

Also, I’m trying to write a fic with Kenny from We’re The Millers, but IT’S SO HARD. Kenny, in general, is hard to write since he’s so...well...himself. Another thing is that the plot is all over the place and my mind keeps bouncing between a bunch of ideas so, it’s literally starting to look like gibberish. But i’m trying

#midsommar #Mark (Midsommar)#mark x reader #im very tired

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yozzers · 3 years

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vexos hcs and random notes

ill update as i go, because yes i do update my masterlists every once in awhile, i should probably add them to my pinned...

General

I sincerely hope they have a small living arrangement so I can inflict them with the pain of having to share almost everything with each other

I just want Shadow and Lync to share a bunk

Like to think that alongside Volt, Mylene and Lync were also recruited by Hydron

None of them officially joined until they were a bit older but probably trained to eventually join the Vexos; in the mean time they probably worked for Hydron or something like that

Volt recruited at 11; Lync a year later and Mylene following not long after (respectively 13, 8, 12 when they’re all gathered)

My reasoning to why Volt is patient with Lync’s antics and Mylene less so but doesn’t lash out as badly as you think she would around annoying little kids; grew up tgt moment

Spectra probably forced his way into the Vexos like “hiiii i see you dont have any Vexos members <3″ bcs obv he wasn’t using royal scientist dad privelages (i think, bcs Clay seems horrified abt Spectra being a Vexos and well, being Spectra)

Shadow had an advantage of being a nobleman (in terms of him being accepted into the Vexos’ ranks)

the Vexos and their set of rules magent-ed on the fridge door or something and every time they go over a page they have to staple/tape a new page on

Joined in this order, Volt, Spectra, Shadow, Mylene, Lync, Gus

Vexos being a “chance of death low but the chance is still there” type of job... they feel like idols girl help they are bakugan idol group who work for the government

sorry the way the vestal kids talk about them... going to treat the Vexos like a kpop group now

Spectra Phantom / Keith Fermin

[canon] son of a (royal?) scientist. definitely had it good and comfy

think it’d be REALLY funny if he already knew Shadow before he became Spectra, Shadow just doesn’t recognize him bcs of his stupid get up

throws childhood friends Shadow Spectra at you, just two weirdos

Keith specifically keeps Shadow from ever meeting his sister which is why neither of them really recognize each other

Pre-Spectra; probably would’ve been really into bakugan biology and what not. Feels like the kind of person to talk w/ his dad about “do you think we could change their appearance if we messed w/ their mechanical ball form or would it not carry over to their released forms”

this mf looks like a biology major i feel it in my guts

mom isn’t dead she just divorced Clay bcs he didn’t know how to balance family and work, good for her

probably lives in another city now, and it’s a bit more of a hassle to meet with her kids so they don’t see her as much but she is present in their lives (keep in contact in other ways)

probably went a bit silent when Keith went missing

didn’t bleach his eyebrows bcs he didn’t want to harm the skin around there and he never thought he’d take the mask off around others, or about how stupid he’d look without the mask

please please please please draw him with his pink hair roots in his MS fit he should've grown out some of his bleached hair by then

daddy issues is truly the root of evil

Gus Grav

Just Some Gut background; middle class just living life

[canon?] was going on a route to being an “idol brawler”, because that’s kind of what their brawls felt like, since it was all purely for show with some competition. it felt less like a sport and more spectacle.

Gus wanting to be an idol brawler is actually such a funny string of words put together I’m making that a thing, if he didn’t join the Vexos he would’ve been an idol brawler

I like the Gus needs glasses hc (shoutout to @marmeladebois ‘s post on that)

The hc of him being half human and Runo’s half brother is so good

Cooks well but refuses to help cook fr the Vexos (unless Spectra specifically asks) --> that job is usually left to Volt

not related but reminds me heavily of yugioh vrain’s Spectre (or other way around... Gus was the blueprint)

Shadow Prove

[handbook canon] a vestal nobleman

has an older brother (oc; Lux- casual Haos brawler)

inferiority complex or whatever, the only thing he bested his brother in was Bakugan

the Prove family being typical prim proper noble family and forcing Shadow to be repressed is something, but the Proves having the same kind of wavelength as Shadow but in different variations is funnier. They’re just Like That.

Probably not a military family, does work closely with the government still; um im thinking somewhere under the Fermins but not by much

Considered running away from home several times

Unwillingly has knowledge on Vestal classic literature/ music

hard clutching a wall whenever he wants to join in on discussions about it bcs he knows this stuff but no way is he going to make himself look like a nerd + hes not actually that interested

*debates you for fun and bcs i hate u <3*

You know how he doesn’t take his job as a Vexos member super seriously, I wonder:

did his parents force him to be a Vexos since he wasn’t interested in the political side of his family and probably against taking up anything related to it, so they had him do something that’d still be beneficial to the family?

joined to pursue a freedom he didn’t have as a nobleman and is now just taking it really easy?

has clowns > jesters debate with volt; obv he’s team clown, volt is team jester

incredibly irrelevant but if he was a human he’d be chinese, i’ve claimed him, prodigal son older brother and fail son dynamic is there

Mylene Ferrow

While I like the idea of her being from a military family, I want to make her like Ling Wen (TGCF) in the sense she started from the bottom and climbed to the top... it fits her ambitious nature of grasping for more, she hasn’t reached what she considers the top just yet...

[very Ling Wen specific but Mylene being put in jail fr crimes unknown to me and being recruited by Hydron bcs she kicked serious ass is an entertaining thought]

I like to think she’s closest to Shadow due to the fact he kind of forces his presence onto her so... not her choice in that matter. “annoying” to “endearingly annoying, you still aren’t getting special treatment though”

Ofc Volt and Lync are on the same level, but I think they all know when to give each other space so they’re more of a “we hold each other at a distance, but we’re aware of out closeness which is enough for us”

Then its Spectra and then Gus in the “closest to Mylene” scale; she just straight up hates Gus and it’s mutual

whoever made the “Mylene and Spectra were exes” hc I think it’s really funny so I’m adding it here

terrible fashion, she’s the one who chose the outfits when she and Shadow went to earth; her fashionable armor look she usually has was designed with Volt’s help, she just voiced what she generally wanted

Her red lipstick look was bcs she thought it’d make her look more serious/ intimidating (Volt and Lync approved, it rlly does work on her)

Shadow matches w/ her (via his red nails) after they get teamed up tgt several times bcs he thinks they’re basically the go-to duo matchup whenever they’re assigned work n it’d be cool

Very forthcoming about the fact she used to be considered a criminal and was from same rundown area Volt and Lync come from

She’s grateful she got out of jail but she still has no respect for Hydron and despite how much she tries to hide it she does make it pretty clear to him she doesn’t really like him

I wish I had more to say about her... but It’s all relationship esque, i think in general she’s enjoyable and good so what I want more out of her is character dynamics

Lync Volan

[eng dub] he has grandparents; whether they’re still alive or not is...?

was part of the same area Volt is from

probably aware of each other but didn’t really know each other

you sound like you have mommy issues

came from the same area as Volt, but lived further out and closer to those areas where there were some bits of nature left

ill expand on why he got picked up by Hydron another day lazy rn

Volt Luster

[canon] he’s from an area that just straight up looks like yugioh 5ds’ Satellite, and Hydron was the one who pulled him out of there

He says Hydron pulled him out of there when he was a kid? I’d assume at youngest it’d be like Hydron (8) and Volt (11)

has a neat collection of handmade jester dolls

lot more artistic than he seems

Had his guardian bakugan with him the longest; had Brontes even before he met Hydron

Would the others consider him weird fr having a talking Bakugan that acted friendly with him n cracked jokes?

#bakugan #croak

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peachyteez · 4 years

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death’s grip ≫ DAY FIVE, YES.

the tiger hybrid managed to escape from south korea’s top illegal hybird ring fights. of course, they didn’t let him go so easily. losing his chasers in a forest, covered in blood—his and others’—he decided to accept his fate of death from his wounds until a female and two other hybrids managed to take him from death’s grip.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15, @jaeminbluee, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4, @t-tbinnie, @chanyeolol, @danibookmarks, @hello-its-ya-boi, @murralyn, @alienmashup, @panini, @moon8894, @koasworld, @taetae123094, @luv3rxcha, @treasure-hwa, @etherealbyeol, @hwaseongzzz, @lovely-sanie, @orbitiiny, @deep-ocean-dweller, @babydolljo, @ms-starlight

can’t be tagged: @yoongisleftboob

feel free to let me know if you would like to be added to the list! :)

✧ notes: perhaps i kinda teared up while typing this up...

✧ WARNINGS: mentions of killing, death, and blood

back。| next。

“what do you mean, you know?” jiyu asked. she definitely isn’t expecting the news this early in the morning.

“they told me yesterday,” hongjoong explained. “how i almost...died.”

jiyu didn’t say anything, only letting out a small sigh before dryly chuckling. “that would explain why they were so nice yesterday at home.” she did find it strange how seonghwa and yunho were so behaving and nice when they came home the previous evening.

sensing her shift in mood, hongjoong worried that they had upset her and that the two could end up getting punished because of him. “wait, please don’t punish them—”

jiyu’s eyes widened at his words and she put her hands up in front of her. “woah, woah, woah, it’s okay, hongjoong. i’m not mad nor am i going to punish them,” she reassured. she softly smiled. “they didn't do anything wrong. i was actually trying to find a way and time to tell you without upsetting you, but i guess they beat me to that.”

hongjoong shifted his gaze out to the window. “you, know...they helped me open my eyes a little,” he meekly admitted. intrigued by his words, jiyu took a seat on the chair next to the bed. “i don’t know what they went through, but they seemed to have put their faith in you. i’ll be honest, at first, i didn’t know why—why trust humans again when all they’ve done is inflict both mental and physical pain on you? but...they seemed so earnest to defend you when i asked why you never told me i almost died.”

jiyu intently listened.

“and surprisingly enough, i couldn’t be mad at you for keeping that from me. even though i thought you were trying to defend my former owners by keeping my potential death a secret. i think deep down, i had unconsciously given you my trust a long time ago. i was just too prideful to admit or acknowledge it.”

jiyu licked her lips before carefully explaining her intentions. “you had just woken up a few days ago and i didn't want to suddenly drop the bomb on you that you were literally teetering between life and death. you could’ve gotten too emotional to think rationally and hurt yourself and others on accident...that’s why i kept it,” she slowly reached up and gently rested her hand on his head. he didn't flinch away. “but i guess, in a way, i was trying to defend humans, too. it would’ve been hypocritical of me to tell you that you almost died from humans when i’ve been telling you that there’s good ones out there,” she wryly smiled.

“but never forget. i always had your well-being in mind, hongjoong. i never had reasons to hurt or go against you.”

hearing her confession, along with relief, hongjoong felt a small tug of guilt in his gut. he never told her who he was or where he came from. his presence in her life could be a danger, yet he never said anything.

he took a deep breath before looking into her eyes. “i used to be part of an illegal hybrid ring fighting group.”

jiyu’s eyes widened again. searching his face for any signs of a joke, she found none. but she did notice his hesitance on continuing. “you don’t have to—”

“no...i think you should know,” he insisted before taking a deep breath. “i was part of the...blood pirates.”

jiyu could’ve sworn she almost fainted right there and then. blood pirates? that one illegal organization that never got caught? the one that illegally collected hybrids for their fights? she had so many questions. how did he escape? where were the blood pirates based?

hongjoong told her everything. “my parents were also part of the blood pirates. but there was a catch...i had to kill them as my final test for my training. i had to kill them...or they would kill all three of us.”

jiyu gasped in horror. hongjoong took a deep breath and continued. “after that, i locked all my emotions away. i lost touch with myself and i just...killed. i killed one after the other with no remorse. i thought that’s how life worked—only the strongest could survive, and that’s how i managed to survive for the past who knows how many years,” his ears drooped in sadness at recalling such chilling memories. “i hated it. the chanting and cheers of the crowd, the look of my opponent’s face right before the life slipped out of their eyes, how my hands were stained red after—” his voice broke with emotion. peering over at his face, jiyu realized he was holding in his sobs.

“i didn’t want to kill them...” he whimpered, staring down at his hands. hands that had once been stained with the blood of his opponents as he fought for his life. “i just fought to live. to see the sunrise the next day. but then i remember that they couldn’t; they couldn’t see the sunrise like i could. they weren't in the basement with me anymore. instead, they come back in my dreams, and i hear their voices haunting me. i’m a monster. a killer.”

listening to hongjoong and watching him bring his knees up to his chest as he cried, her heart broke. no one should have to go through that. no one should have to fight just to see the next day...no hybrid should ever have to live in fear and constantly think that today might be their last. nor should they ever have to think they were a monster.

before he could react, she stood up and wrapped her arms around him. she rested her chin on his head and comfortingly pat his shoulder. she couldn’t see his face, but she knew he must’ve been surprised with how he had tensed up.

“you’re not a monster, hongjoong. you did what you had to do to live. anyone would've done that,” she reassured. “it’s in our nature to do whatever it takes to survive. life’s precious, you only get one chance. and i’m sure your...opponents knew, too. it’s not your fault, hongjoong. you’re not a monster or a killer. the guilt you feel for having to take their life—that just shows that you have a heart, feelings,” she peered down at his glossy eyes. “have you ever considered that they might’ve come back to watch over you? rather than haunt you?”

by that point, even jiyu was crying. crying at the thought of how the tiger hybrid had endured so much pain by himself. he had no one by his side to help him. the other hybrids with him had the same goal. to live. befriending each other would’ve made them too emotionally attached to each other to kill.

feeling her tears land on his cheek, it only prompted his unshed ones to fall. he buried his head in her neck and cried. cried out all of the tears he had for the ones he killed, cried out the despair and hopelessness he’s felt ever since he was old enough to process the world around him. but most importantly, cried at the thought of being finally being safe and away from the bloody, heartless world he came from.

she held him close. despite being an adult, he seemed so small, so childlike as he hugged her and cried. rocking him from side-to-side, she ran her fingers gently through his hair and whispered comforting words to him. “they’re in a better place, joong. i promise. they’re free from the pain.”

feeling his body shake in her arms from his sobs, it took every ounce of strength for her to not sob along with him. she had to stay strong. she had to keep him grounded. a while had passed; hongjoong’s cries filling the room with jiyu comforting him.

she suddenly stopped combing through his hair. “would you like to come home with me?”

hongjoong pulled away from her at the question. “w-what?” he sniffled.

she grabbed a tissue from the nightstand and gently dabbed his tears away. “i know it’s sudden...but would you like to come live with us three?” she asked. “i’m not forcing you to, it’s a hundred percent your decision. i just realized you don’t have anywhere to go after you’re discharged here.”

hongjoong blinked, slowly processing her offer. his heart raced with happiness. he wanted nothing more than to spend his days in her safe presence, to spend his days getting to know seonghwa and yunho. but deep down, he felt something holding him back.

“b-but the blood p-pirates...” he managed to stutter out. he was terrified of what could happen if they found him again. he didn’t want to endanger three innocent people just because he was selfish and wanted to experience heaven for a while longer.

“don’t worry about them. if they ever show up, i have a lot of connections,” she smiled, a mysterious hint to it. hongjoong grew curious. connections? what kind? who was she?

“besides, if you were alone in the forest that day, they probably presumed you were dead,” she reasoned. “bottom line is...you’ll be safe with me, hongjoong. with us; me, seonghwa, and yunho. i swear on my life. so...what’s your answer?”

hongjoong stared deep into her eyes, trying to find signs of uncertainty—heck, he was even waiting for her to say it was a joke and that she would never adopt him for who he was. but she didn't. she stared back; an unwavering and determined expression. she was dead serious.

was he ready to start a new life? was he ready to leave his old life behind and start again from scratch with a new family? does he deserve this second chance after all the lives he’s taken?

suddenly, a little voice, as clear as day, rang next to his ear. yes. all of a sudden, it was like every fiber of his being and soul was pushing him to accept. feeling a slight breeze blow past him, he felt at ease. maybe jiyu was right; they were watching out for him, looking over him despite their tragic ending by his own hands.

“hm, where did that breeze come from?” jiyu frowned, seeing that the window was still closed. she looked back down to the hybrid on the bed in front of her before smiling and extending her hand towards him. “so? will you join us?”

with his ears perking up with a newfound burst of energy and his tail waving around with anticipation at his new future, he slowly reached out with his own hand and clasped her’s. “yes.”

she grinned. “well, seonghwa and yunho will definitely be excited as i am about you joining our family.”

#9th member of ateez #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #ateez fluff #kim hongjoong #kim hongjoong imagines #hongjoong imagines #hongjoong scenarios #ateez hongjoong #hybrid au #kpop hybrid au #ateez hybrid #hybrid!ateez #ateez au

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fruitymimi · 4 years

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Free Bird 2 - keigo takami x reader

free bird masterlist

keigo’s behavior is becoming unhealthy & endeavor finally notices

pairing: keigo takami x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of murder, YANDERE HAWKS, cursing, mentions of trauma & abuse

a/n: pls im hesitant on posting this chapter i feel like its so badddd & corny lmao. but next chapter will be present time! i decided this is enough of the flashbacks for now >:)

To say the least, Endeavor was pissed. Throughout Keigo’s entire life, he’d never developed any feelings towards people his age due to Endeavor and his parents, and that’s the way he wanted it to stay. Enji didn’t want anything or anyone to distract him, that’s why Keigo no longer went to public school, Keigo wasn’t allowed to consume any alternative media, this included TV shows, movies, the poor thing wasn’t even allowed to explore literature, only things Endeavor and the hero commission approved of.

Not all heroes were in on this, either. This was something that was kept a confidential secret. Had heroes like Eraserhead, Present Mic, Ms. Joke, or Fatgum just name a few, heard about the exploitation within the hero community, they surely would have left without hesitation. As silly as it sounds, Keigo hoped that he would be saved by one of them. That is until he turned 15 and realized that there really was no getting out of his situation.

Keigo even remembers one time when Endeavor was scolding him in the hallway, his eyes were trained to the ground, his hands were shaky and he was picking at his nails, a bad habit he’d developed while with Enji. He didn’t even do anything! He just forgot that their training session started earlier than usual and he accidentally slept in! He didn’t expect Endeavor to be so angry, but apparently, Enji missed an important meeting while waiting for Keigo.

Keigo didn’t know what to say. He just kept his eyes on the ground until he saw a pair of yellow shoes walk past and stop behind Endeavor. Keigo looked up at the tall person behind Enji, his eyes brightening when he saw who it was. It was All Might! Maybe he’d at least get Endeavor to stop yelling at him, he looked so fragile and hurt by his words, it’d take a fool to not notice.

Toshinori made eye contact with Keigo, turning away immediately when he’d realized Keigo’s attention was on him. He clenched his fists, walking away slowly. Keigo’s mouth fell open, his brows furrowing, bottom lip quivering.

Even the Symbol Of Peace didn’t care…?

Keigo carried this with him for years. He never liked the man, but this was just the icing on the cake. Now he knew, he really only had himself. No one was going to save him. No one was his friend.

It’d been about two weeks since Keigo met Y/N. Keigo never felt happier, he was friends with someone he had feelings for. He could actually consider someone a friend, something he hasn’t had for a long time. Of course, Endeavor always looked at him with a scowl whenever he’d be out with them, but he didn’t care. He was actually living somewhat like a teenage boy, even if he was 19.

Keigo could explain what he was feeling now. He knew that he was in love with Y/N. He knew that he had feelings for them, he wanted to see them as more than a friend. But he didn’t know how to process it.

He’d find himself watching what they were doing throughout the day, learning their routines and how they were after each training activity. He could almost sense when something was off, he’d instantly be at their side, asking how he could help.

When Y/N would ask him how he knew something was wrong, he’d just shrug and reply with something along the lines of, “Maybe it’s just something special birds can sense” and it would make them smile, Keigo wanted nothing more than to see that look on their face forever.

When in reality, Keigo knew almost everything about them. He learned it all in the short few weeks, all by watching and listening to what they said. He knew what their favorite color was, what time they’d usually fall asleep, what time they’d usually wake up, what their favorite food was. Keigo kept mental notes about everything they did, everything they said. After all, that’s the least he could do as their future husband, right?

Endeavor did notice Keigo’s behavior becoming worse and worse. Keigo would purposefully hurt himself during training to get Y/N’s attention. They’d always run to his side to give him a bandaid or to help him up, Keigo would just be beaming the entire time they unwrapped the bandaid and placed it on his broken skin.

That wasn’t even the worst part. As time went on, Keigo would become aggressive when other people would flirt with Y/N. Of course Keigo wouldn’t do it in front of anyone else, but Endeavor wasn’t a damn fool. Some random student would flirt with Y/N while they were training in Endeavor’s building, Keigo would notice and his face would get all red, fists would clench, and then somehow the student would end up slipping over a puddle in the hallways, or they would trip over something in the middle of the running track, or worse.

But of course, at the end of the day, Keigo was the one walking Y/N back to her dorm room, putting on a pretty smile to make it seem like he wasn’t planning something terrible. He was so good at covering his tracks as well, Endeavor had to admit. He knew Keigo was using his feathers to harm people who even so much as looked at Y/N in a way he didn’t like.

The day Endeavor knew it had gone too far was when a group of students were following Y/N around the halls, giggling and making jokes about them. It was comments about how their uniform fit their build, obviously making Y/N uncomfortable.

It didn’t take long for Keigo to notice, and obviously he’d remembered and made mental notes about who it was harassing what was his. Keigo waited until late, late night, running into one of them on his way to the kitchen. The student was holding a glass of water, glancing up at Keigo when he walked in.

“Hey, you know Y/N, right?” Keigo asked, grabbing a glass from the cabinet. He turned on the tap, waiting for their response.

He heard the student’s glass clink against the table as they put it down. “Mm, yeah. I know them. Why?” The student was oblivious to what the man was planning in front of him.

Keigo hummed, placing his cup on the table. “What do you think about them?” Keigo sat on the barstool at the table, his face blank as he stared at them.

The student clicked their tongue as they thought. “Well… I think they’re pretty cute. They seem a little easy, don’t you agree? I think I could get with them.” The student giggled, looking down at their glass.

That is until they felt a sharp object at their neck. One of Keigo’s fucking feathers. Their eyes widened as they looked up at him. “Woah… chill out, man. It was a fucking joke.”

Keigo stood up, walking behind them. “Don’t fucking move. I won’t hesitate to do it. Don’t ever speak about Y/N like that again. They’re mine. If you want to live long enough to become a hero, you’d better leave them alone. They’re mine.”

The student swallowed. “Dude, I’m sorry. Just don’t hurt me.” Their voice grew shaky.

“You’ll fucking leave them alone then?”

“Yeah, dude. Just let me go… I promise I won’t talk to them again.” The student said, clenching their eyes shut.

Keigo took in a deep breath, opening his mouth to speak until he heard someone calling his name.

“Keigo! Stop!” Endeavor yelled at him, yanking at the boy’s shoulder. “What the fuck are you doing?! Call off your feathers.” Endeavor cursed. Surprisingly, Endeavor couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew Keigo was going a bit crazy, but he didn’t expect to walk in on him threatening someone’s life.

Keigo looked up at Endeavor, then back down at the student. He let them go, watching the student almost fall out of their chair trying to get away from him. Keigo turned to Endeavor, crossing his arms.

“I knew what I was do-”

“No. I’ve ignored all of this longer than I should have. You need to take yourself to your dorm, don’t fucking come out until I say you can. This was completely unacceptable. You could have killed that student!”

Keigo blinked. “I wasn’t gonna do it. I just wanted them to leave Y/N alone.” He responded.

Endeavor’s nostrils flared. “Y/N? Are you fucking serious? What you’re doing is crazy. This is not how you show someone that you like them! You need to stop.”

“Marrying someone to breed your children isn’t how you show someone that you like them either.”

Endeavor’s brows raised as he stared at Keigo. “Get out of my face. Do not leave your room until I send for you. Go!” Endeavor pointed down the hall.Endeavor watched him walk away, pressing his lips together. He knew he needed to put an end to this now. He couldn’t just ignore Keigo’s rapidly declining sanity any longer.

So what did he do? He called All Might and told him that he was sending Y/N somewhere else if he didn’t come and get them. Of course Endeavor wasn’t going to finally sit down and have a talk with Keigo and explain why his behavior was wrong, Endeavor wasn’t his father. Even though the hero commission robed the poor boy of countless life lessons, Endeavor would be damned if he sat down and had a talk with Keigo about his behavior.

“His feather? Like it was a knife?” Toshinori stared at Endeavor in disbelief, walking through the hallways with him. It was the next morning, Endeavor wanted to tell Toshinori the full story before he took Y/N.

Endeavor nodded his head. “Yes. I told you, he’s obsessed with them. I don’t know why, it’s like as time went on, he became more and more possessive. I don’t know why he’s acting like this, either.” Endeavor said, taking a sip of the coffee in front of him.

Toshinori looked up from his cup, brows furrowed. “What do you mean ‘you don’t know why he’s acting like this’? You act like you didn’t take his childhood from him, he was forced into hero work, what did you expect? He doesn’t know how to process his feelings because you’re too prideful to sit down and have a conversation with him or teach him about anything.”

Endeavor scoffed. “I’ve already got kids I have to worry about. I can’t go and act like I’m his father, too.” Endeavor told him, sitting back in his chair.

“You don’t even act as a dad towards them. All I’m saying is, if you don’t get that boy in check, you’re just training a villain. Anything that he does will be pinned on you. Not the hero commission, they’ll snitch faster than you can react.” Toshinori stood up from his seat, “I have somewhere to be in a few hours, I’m going to take Y/N back and let them get settled in before we have to leave.” he said, walking to the door of the conference room.

And with that, Toshinori led Y/N to the car he came in, deciding it was best if they didn’t say anything to Keigo.

But Keigo knew. Keigo knew it was Endeavor’s fault they were getting taken away. Keigo knew that Endeavor had something to do with it. He just got the love of his life taken away from him, all because of Endeavor. Keigo wasn’t going to take any of the blame, either. What he did wasn’t even that serious in his mind!

For the next few days, Keigo barely left his room and Endeavor didn’t bother him about it. Endeavor had to admit, he wouldn’t have taken Y/N away so quickly and coldly had Keigo not made that comment about him breeding his children. It was true, but Endeavor couldn’t handle the truth.

And like that, Endeavor watched Keigo shut himself off again. Everyday he woke up with that same dead expression, going back to how he was before. Going back to the ‘normal’ Keigo. Endeavor was just glad he could finish training him how he’d intended, there was no more distraction.

Still, he never seemed like he was the exact same. Like something sparked inside of him. Endeavor just didn’t know this was only the beginning.

#bnha #yandere hawks #yandere hawks x reader #yandere keigo x reader #yandere keigo #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #gender neutral reader #yandere #slow burn #keigo takami #keigo takami x reader

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nachohypno · 3 years

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Pine’s Football Jocks (Rewritten) - Ch. 1

Little heads up: This one is a weird thing. It’s a rewritten version of the original Pine’s Football Jocks, but it contains spoilers for the college series, so it should still be read after reading the other ones (Original included) first, like a sequel.

-----

Past Pine’s POV

"I'm awake!" Mike stated, as I started kicking the sleeping bag he was sleeping in. The bad part of the big guy sleeping on the floor was that he occupied a good chunk of the room.

If he didn't move soon, I'd have to do acrobatics in order to leave.

"I'm happy for you, but I need you to get up rather than just wake up. We'll be late!" I replied, as he stretched his arms. I took advantage of the little space he left for me as he did so and started walking around him.

"Gotta admit, bro," My best friend started getting up. I had to look away, reminding myself that he was shirtless and wearing shorts.

I don't lust after him, he's like a big brother to me (A second one, I have one of those already) but Mr. Morning wood couldn't help himself if I looked at a buffed guy. Last thing I needed was Mike mocking me for being hard in front of him.

"That was one hell of a videogame!"

Yeah, he convinced me to have a 'videogame night' due to this new one coming out for his Switch. I shouldn't have agreed, due to having school today and now we were going to be late. Fuck, I hated being late!

"All right, it was fun, but now you got to get dressed and we're lucky if we have time to get some breakfast-"

"Chill out" At least he was putting on a shirt now. He reached out for his school bag and grabbed some jeans. "It's okay, the principal likes your high grades and the coach likes... he doesn't like anybody, but I'm sure he'd be able to save me if we get into trouble."

'Save *me*. Well put there, big guy.' I thought, as I changed my pajama tee for a more appropriate one. Blank blue shirt with no logos, perfect.

"Whatever, I don't want to risk it." I mumbled my answer, but I noticed he didn't like it.

"D'aww, Am I hearing wrong here?" Oh, no. I looked at him, as he held his hands towards me with his fingers moving. "Sounds like someone needs some... fun"

I grabbed my own school bag and used it as a shield. "Stay away, first warning"

"One..." Mike took a step towards me, a naughty smile on his face.

"Mike, I'm serious we got to hurry!" I tried to remind him, but he's just very chilled about it.

"...Two..." He was a few inches away from me now. I took a deep breath, ready for what was coming. "...Three!"

The big guy jumped towards me and started tickling my belly and ribs. I tried to take him off from me but it was useless, a second or so later I was laughing like a maniac.

Even if I tried to push him away, the size difference played against me. It was like a cat and mouse game where he would always win!

"HAHAHAHAH... STOP MIKE HAHAHAHA. CAN'T BREATHE!" I pleaded, and he let go of me after that. He stood up, then blew some air on his fingers.

"Never fails, bro."

"I hate you"

"Careful there, or I'll give the baby another set of my *electric fingers*. Pew pew pew!" He finger gunned at me, before going back towards the sleeping bag on the floor and grabbing his own bag. He started picking up his stuff after that. His Switch, shorts, etc.

"Come on, there's no time to get ready if we want to be on time." I said, firmly.

Mikey stood at attention and gave a military salute, along with a "Yes, sir! Heh, Brent would be so pissed if he saw me doing that."

"Why's that?" I didn't care much about his teammates. The big guy brought them up sometimes to mock them off.

"His dad's buggin' him to join the ROTC if I recall correctly. Any mention of the military service gets him really pissed really fast. Guess what's the new coach's strategy to get him to play aggressively?"

I rolled my eyes, and motioned for him to follow me out.

"Oh, wait!" I returned quickly and grabbed his varsity jacket from my closet. He put it there to avoid carrying it all day. "Here's your outdated varsity jacket."

"Hey, not outdated. You wouldn't believe how many chicks find this thing the hottest thing in the world." He defended his precious jacket.

Red on the torso and white-ish yellow on the arms, letters and numbers. The thing had a big 'W' on the right pectoral. On the back, "Mike" was written on the lower part, beneath his football jersey's number.

He wasn't lying, those things were really hot, especially when the jocks are part of a very strict healthy regimen to maintain a nice body. Not very inclusive nor good for a teenager's mind, but our coach isn't known for playing by the rules when it comes to training.

Hell, I'd even be surprised if those guys manage to think of something else rather than 'football football football' by the end of the year.

Before Mike tried to convince me to stay chilled and have breakfast, I was already heading for the front door as soon as we walked downstairs.

"Wait, I want a sandwich, bro-" Mike said, grabbing my shoulder and pointing towards the kitchen.

"We're going to be late and I'm going to be pissed all day. Just... be quick about it."

"You're the best." The big guy gave me a nice thumbs up before turning around and walking towards the kitchen. I checked my phone's clock as he did so. Still a bit of time, c'mon... "Hey, Ms. Carter!" Well, shit. Now he was going to socialize with my mom.

Mom liked Mike, everyone did. He's like this guy that's so likeable you can't escape from being friends with him. I guess I'm just lucky to be his childhood's best friend, I can't tell why he's excited by the idea of hanging out with me to this day to be honest, but I'm not complaining. He's a nice guy!

Five minutes later, (Which we could have used to get to school in time) the big guy came to me with two sandwiches. "Never gonna get tired of coming over, your mom is so great, bro."

He passed me one sandwich, which I gladly accepted, before saying a loud "Bye!" and leaving the house, jock behind me.

That was our chemistry to my eyes. He was a nice fun friend and I was the guy who tried to push us towards our responsibilities.

I examined my sandwich and noticed it had mayonnaise, which I disliked. "Oh fuck," Mikey said, looking at what I was doing. "That one's mine, here." Then we exchanged our sandwiches.

The walk towards school was nice. Winston (Our hometown) was a relaxing place. It changed a lot depending on the season, yeah, but even then, it was still the same boring town.

It's not like something interesting happened here, don't get me wrong. Our goals are the same, for every guy or girl in town: Get the high school degree, apply to a good university, leave and buy a mansion.

As long as I could leave and don't feel so... exposed every time I turned around, I was okay to be honest.

What do I mean with 'Exposed'? Everyone knows everything, especially in our school. Which makes me glad no-one found out about my homosexuality. I don't know if Winston is a homophobic place and I prefer never getting to know.

And then I made a huge mistake!

"Hey, Mike?" I said to my best friend, as I noticed him focused on the road.

"Someday, I'm gonna buy a Ferrari" He mumbled, as he watched the same old lame cars passing by.

"What?" He took me off my train of thoughts with his randomness.

"Huh? Did I say that out loud? Sorry, what were ya saying?" Mike gave me a nice smile. He was my best friend, I thought there wouldn't be a problem with this. He was always so good and caring when it came to me, which really helped break the football jock stereotype that went around in our school. He was... the best. No questions asked.

"Let's... assume that someone you know has this big secret..."

"Mmhmm" He mumbled, to assure he was listening.

"And they tell you about it. What would you- Oh, and it's a biiiig game-changer secret, the kind of secret that could kill you if you know it."

"Is it something bad?" He asked, eyeing me from top to bottom. He was thinking, he always did that when thinking. That or zone out. He's not dumb (In fact, he manages to maintain a good G.P.A without much worries! Although I do help him a little...), but he has a weird way of focusing on subjects.

"Depending on your thoughts on the matter, I think."

"But like, it's a personal thing, right?" He asked, and I nodded. "A'ight, I'm all ears, bro."

I was a bit surprised. Did he know something already? I may not be the best at keeping secrets, as I thought? "What?"

"If you wanna tell me something, don't leave me on the edge of my seat. What is it?" He grabbed my shoulder and shook me a bit, jokingly.

"First, promise me you won't freak out or treat me differently. Got it?"

Mike rolled his eyes, before holding his hand high as we walked. "I, Michael Travis, promise still be Pine Carter's best friend even after he tells me whatever secret he may have." Then he patted my back. "C'moooon, the curiosity is killin' me, bro-"

"I'm gay," I blurted out. And Mike froze mid-sandwich bite. It was quite funny to see and I would have loved to take a picture of his face at that moment, but it was a serious thing so... I restrained myself.

"No joke? Like full on gay?" I appreciated he didn't even call me fag. I never heard him use the slang 'fag' actually! And he was reacting quite well so far. He stared at the floor like he just saw a penny, but after that he smiled and answered a jovial "Yup, makes sense!"

"Wait, what?"

"Thought I never noticed when you looked away every time a guy was shirtless near us? Or when you did stare at a shirtless guy, you stared for longer than anyone else would do" After that, he gave me a hug. "Glad you decided to tell me, though. You're the best bro ever."

He ruffled my hair, before we continued walking together. It was nice, a huge weight off my shoulders, knowing that I could count on my best friend for *anything*.

Hey, this wasn't as bad as I thought it would be!

And luckily, the rest of my school day went as smooth as silk. Nice classes, some lunch, and back home alone. Mike had football practice so he told me to go on without him. I’m kind of surprised he manages to be in that team, to be honest. Not because he’s bad at football (In fact, he seems to be really good at it? I don’t know much about football) but because the coach and some of his teammates are really awful.

They are like the polar opposite of goody-two-shoes Michael Travis. I mean, I don’t know them personally but… they all follow their leader like little bitches. If the big one says ‘Time to bother this one’ the rest of the team will repeat like little parrots. That’s how it goes.

Mike usually doesn’t follow them around, unless he ‘has’ to. And even then, he tries to keep himself away from the bullying and being obnoxious. He’s just too innocent!

Or, at least, I thought so!

As I walked into the school a day afterwards. I suddenly felt a few stares on me. You notice that when you’re not used to social contact. I’m not trying to sound overly dramatic, but I felt a bit naked right now. What was up with all the stares?

I kept walking forward, trying to ignore that weird feeling. If I managed to find Mike, maybe I could get him to calm me down. He was good at doing that.

I bumped into one of the jocks, who pushed me away. “Look where you’re going, faggot” My stomach sunk.

I could feel my eyes getting watery as I walked faster now. Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have done anything. It was a dumb choice to make. I had to talk to Mike now, figure out what the fuck did he do yesterday and why one of his teammates called me faggot. Maybe I was being really paranoid?

Rushing into the bathroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. “Everything’s fine. It’s just a big misunderstanding…

Garrett entered the bathroom as I washed my face, leaving my glasses next to the sink. Just what I needed now.

Garrett Basch, one of my classmates, and one of Mike's teammates.

Dark blond, built, nice jawline, only the best apparently for the king of the corridors. Better leave him space when he's walking, because those arms can give you an awful beating if he picks you as his new objective.

He stopped beside me, and looked at the big mirror in front of us. "Hey, bro" Were his words. I didn't answer, of course.

"Heard about your little problem... I mean, the whole school heard about it already." The jock opened the faucet, without looking at me, then started washing his hands. 'It's not a problem... But yet, he doesn't really look menacing...' I thought. Would have loved to shut my ass.

"But hey, you come in just in time" Wait, what? I didn't look up and just kept washing my hands anxiously. He did finish doing that and stared at me. "Always wanted a personal punching bag, and I highly dislike nerds, let alone faggots so... You're in for a good time, man"

"Wait, you can't do that-"

Garrett wasn't known for being nice though, but he placed a hand on my shoulder and started pressing. It hurted, and I whimpered a bit. I felt like I was about to cry again, which was already an embarrassing thing to do in school.

"Don't worry, not gonna hurt you. Not today, I guess. Not feeling in the mood, quite generous today actually, am I right?" He let go of my shoulder and patted it for a bit. "C'mon, stop cryin' like a little faggot bitch and go thank Mikey. He's the one who came up talking about it with the team, heh."

Fuck, I was so mad at the moment that I didn't notice he tried to put me against my best (and apparently only) friend at the time.

Garrett grabbed me by the shoulders, and my glasses from the sink. He threw them to my hands, and I was surprised I managed to catch them before they fell to the floor and probably break.

"And don't show your face around me, faggot. Actually, do. I like boxing from time to time!" The guy shouted before shoving me off the bathroom. What was up with him, anyway? I mean, I was glad he didn't beat me up on the spot but...

I had to find Mike.

Walking around the school, hoodie on like some kind of weird skater guy, I searched for my best friend, finding him next to his locker.

"Michael!" I silently called for him, as I tapped his shoulder. I was angry, not going to lie.

He turned around with a nervous smile.

"Look, I fucked up, I know. I just-" Mike started, trying to sound chilled. He knew he fucked up, that's how he started

"No, don't come at me with that 'bro' shit. How the hell does the whole place know about my sexuality surprisingly after I told you about it *yesterday?!*" Luckily, people were too into their own business to hear us discuss.

He looked around, and I could tell he was growing sadder with each word I said. Mike doesn't cope well with discussions; he prefers to avoid them at all costs. But sad for him, he couldn't avoid this one.

"I wanted to make you a favor and ask my football bros if they knew anyone... y'know, gay too..." That was enough for me. He admitted fucking up and letting anyone know about what I trusted to him.

I turned around and started walking away.

"Pine, wait." He followed me as I walked towards my locker. "Bro, please, just lemme..."

"Mike, no. You know I trusted you something really important for me, and you didn't even wait A DAY to not only tell someone, but especially the football jocks, which are knowingly the dumb and aggressive ones-"

"Y'think I'm dumb and aggressive?" He frowned at me. "I thought I was being a good friend, just trying to get you someone to date now that you were out-" But I wasn't done.

"And you're even trying to turn around the situation. You know what? Fuck you, Mike. Just simply follow that simple instruction and fuck you. Or not! Since you're so good at reverse psychology!"

After that little rant, which I was sad nobody paid attention to, I went away. I felt like Mike was too mad to answer, or sad, or whatever.

But hey, this could be fun, right?

Being out to the school can't be that bad, and maybe I was just harsh on my jock friend because I was mad...

...Right?

---

Present Pine’s POV

"What happened next?" Mike asked me, as I stopped reading. "I knew this part already, but it was nice hearing your side of the story, bro. Why did you write about our sleepover, though? Or like, so far behind when you said it all started?"

I shrugged, as soon as I noticed my little pause. "Uh... don't know. Maybe to add more context? Like, to remember why you were in my house and stuff like that. The outing is not nice to remember, but it still adds more to my story, right?"

It wasn't an excuse, actually. I wanted to be detailed when I wrote this down, to remember as much as possible if I ever came to forget it.

Not possible, apparently. I remembered my senior year like it happened yesterday, but reading the already-written material was easier than being all "Uhm... and then this happened and... uh... this next..." It's awful, I'm not fond of continuous speaking.

"Well... what happened next?" Mikey said, pointing to the screen. I appreciated him not reading onwards and just listening to me like some kind of story-teller, it was cute.

"Wait, first..." I pointed to his body. Mike was still wearing his outside clothes, a red tee and some jeans. "I told you this was a bedtime story, and you're not even in your pajamas."

"I knoooow," He tried to excuse himself, before pointing to the cast on his forearm. "But this shit's itchy, and your story distracts me quite a lot from that. I swear I would break this fuckin' thing..."

I sometimes don't know if he forgets I have mind control powers or what. A simple command sent over the mind link we shared ('Ignore the itchy cast.')

Mike here got a broken bone during a 'friendly' football game. The player apologized a lot because he apparently lost his cool, but Mike kind of ignored his apologies and is just... bitter against his newfound rival.

Kind of understandable, his professional football career now hangs over a thread, and if the doctor tells him he's not able to play anymore, my big guy will be really sad.

He does have a backup plan, that's why he's studying to get a biology degree, so that's cool.

"Hey, not itchy anymore. Buuuuut, could you continue pleaseeee?" The jock held his hands together as if pleading.

I sighed, before putting some power on my words. "I want you to do as I say," I started, admiring his face as it went blank. Glazed eyes looked really good on him.

"I will do as you say..." My boyfriend repeated, and I noticed his mind going blank as he waited for more orders.

"Go get ready for bed, I'll wait for you here." I told him, patting his shoulder before he moved away from the bed to obey.

"Yes, master..." The jock mumbled as he walked away.

While he was out, I started reviewing the following entries of my senior year journal.

'Ooof, this gets really dark here... I even forgot about this bit. Yeah, no need to tell Mike about this part, he'll just feel really guilty. Let's move forward a month or so... There it goes' I thought, as I skipped a good chunk of filler-ish bits from when I was powerless and got bullied a lot. I just had to wait for the big guy, it would be mean if I started reading without him.

A few minutes afterwards, he lazily walked in the room in his underwear. Just in his underwear, full muscular body on display. I made him 'wake up' via the mind link.

Mike didn't react at all, he just suddenly seemed more alive and then jumped on the bed, next to me.

I had to catch my laptop, but after that, we were ready to continue.

"I did a little time jump, if you don't mind. I thought it would be more interesting to jump closer towards the action and stuff like that."

"Hey, you're the story-teller. You're in charge, bruh." He said, getting himself comfortable and covering his almost naked body with a blanket. “How long is this time jump anyway?”

“A month or so…” I mumbled, before going back to narrating. "Alright, so... where was I..."

“Oh, fuck. I think I’m not going to like what comes next” He mumbled, leaning a bit to read my laptop’s screen.

“Sorry, I was pretty pissed when I remembered this. I’ll try to avoid the details of you not helping me, okay?” I said, pushing him back down as he nodded like a happy baby. “Now, back to the story.”

---

Past Pine's POV

I left the classroom, looking around at the corridor as I did. While heading to my locker to leave the books I just used, I got shoved into a random set of lockers, making me fall straight to the floor.

Lots of deep laughter as my tormentors walked away. I looked ahead and noticed a mini version of the incredible hulk staying away from his group and walking towards me. ‘Oh, shit. Here we go again…’ I thought, as Mike offered me his hand.

“Need some help?” He asked, before I used the lockers to help myself up. The jock in front of me sighed as he looked around.

“Nope…” I tidied my clothes and got my glasses back in place, before looking at him with an impassive look. The kind of look you give to someone you know is guilty, but can’t do a shit about it. I mean, c’mon. He even was with them and didn’t do anything to stop them! What can you save from that?! “Just a scratch. You know how it goes.”

“Very funny, bro. I can tell when you’re lying to me.” Him calling me ‘bro’ was quite annoying. It’s been a month since he outed me to his team, and a month since they started torturing me under the guidance of Coach Asshole and his bitch Garrett. The coach doesn’t care about what happens to me, and Garrett looooves that! “…Sorry about that again, by the way.”

He apologized every freaking day, each moment that the jocks went after me, he would be there afterwards to apologize again. Was this hell? Did I die and never realized that?

I gave him the fakest smile I could, followed by a “Don’t worry. They’ll come to understand later on, right?”

Mike frowned at me. I liked making him frown. Even when ‘angry’ he still looked funny. “They’re more aggressive due to the upcoming game… Y’know that’s a lot of pressure especially with that cunt of a coach… Speaking of which, I’d like to tell you something. Maybe you’d like to come home for that, though? It’s been quite a while-”

“Homework. Lots of it.” I excused myself.

“I know, that’s what you always say…” He mumbled, before rolling his eyes. I would have punched him if my arms weren’t spaghettis, but even if that were the case, I wasn’t the violent type of guy. I usually try to talk my way out of things or just… accept my fate, whatever it is.

I stared at him, not saying a single word. He stared back at me, and this just turned into a really uncomfortable staring contest between two ex-best friends who barely talked anymore. “Need something else? I need to reach my locker so…” I motioned with my hand for him to move and he just looked around nervously.

“I miss you, bro…” He started, but I wasn’t in the mood for yet another apology with my arm hurting after being shoved to a locker.

No answer from my part, and he sighed. “See you in a while, bro.” Mike mumbled, before jogging off to catch up his football bros.

I sighed, celebrating in my mind. Hey, it’s not standing up against Garrett, but he was the closest one I could stand up against, right?

By… standing there silent without doing nothing. Yeah, no clue why would they want to beat me up. Fuck, I’m really an easy target.

Just had to focus on my classes, graduate, then kiss goodbye to this town.

---

Present Pine’s POV

Wait, Mike?

Mike fell asleep. How rude! Just when I was about to get into the night I got my powers…

Well, telling him the story would be pointless if he wasn’t listening. I’m glad he fell asleep though, he needs rest and I’m not going to wake him up just to continue narrating.

I closed the file, turned off the laptop and left it on my night table. After that, I laid down and hugged my jock boy. A little kiss on his cheek, then closed my eyes.

------

Author’s note:

Yeeeey, I’m back! Sort of! Hoping to publish more frequently after my big writer’s block!

I was especially hesitant to publish this chapter because of this dialogue choice I made, that makes Garrett sound like a wonky mean disney-ish character. But, it’s just for one scene, so... Here’s the first chapter! Hope you guys like it!

#PinesCollegeJocks #PinesJocks #mind control #straight to gay #gay hypnosis #hypnotized #brainwash #brainwashed #brainwashing

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