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deviltoys · 4 years ago

Note

― this is my first time requesting so let's hope i don't fuck this up [lmao].

taking tobio's [who's the pastor's son] virginity and watching him ask for forgiveness for doing something so inappropriate in the church but then you proceed to degrade him. 🙇

— ‘𝘂𝗻𝗵𝗼𝗹𝘆 𝘃𝗼𝘄𝘀.’

tobio kageyama x top!male reader. (wc; ?)

#a/n: stop. this is my favorite request, ever. virginity loss ‘n blasphemy??? hello? too fuckin’ good, been cravin’ a good virgin tobio. thank you fer’ this, it was perfect!

warings. NSFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI, virginity loss, sacrilege, taboo acts, incest, age gap (18-30), pastor!reader, exhibitionism, sex in a church, misusage of the bible, religious speak, little to no prep, dumbification, creampie, degrading, manipulation, corruption, belly bulge, daddy k.

juvenile ministry took up a huge chunk of the church you operated. being the father to tobio kageyama, it was only natural that he was a frequent volunteer for the group of children who'd visit you both to be taught the righteous laws of god.

your boy was so doting with kids, it lay a smile across your lips to see him so devoted as you'd help demonstrate an array of practices to the youth. he was an apprentice of some sort— you two had a closely knit relationship when it came to chruch work.

almost a little too close.

nobody would ever suspect a thing, right? their nurturing pastor and his passionate son; they wouldn't dream of commiting any corrupt acts against the lord they so dearly fawned about.

the children certainly wouldn't know, such mindless followers. that's why during youth hours the two of you would mysteriously ‘disappear’ while everyone else contributed holy related activities to do while father y/n and tobio went to assist the lord.

you had be fighting the urge to take your son aside and tear his tiny body in half right there inside the sacred haven. but poor little tobio was a virgin, nobody would dare attempt to be the one who would strip the priest’s son of his innocence. you and the younger male had only gone as far as sucking on each others lips or caressing one another in sensual ways that would surely be forbidden by the church.

it was unethical practice to do anything under sexual pretense inside the chapel; with your offspring no less. you were already commiting unforgivable acts unbeknownst to your fellow ministers— what was one more? just another sin strewn onto the pile of ones you had been collecting throughout the years.

the line between faith and abandonment finally blurred out when you caught your little kageyama with pants a size to small for his waist. the fabric rode up, perfectly rounding out and drawing scrutiny to his chubby ass. you were well aware of the scandalous gestures he would send your way while he kept his attention on the children. wiggling his ass out every so often was his main form of communicating his intentions.

he was at last ready to make his daddy proud, giving his body to him as though you were christ himself; submitting to you.

all of his coherent brain function was corrupt by you a long time past, the degenerate acts you two would shun from the eye of society had finally caught up to him. he needed the embrace of his dad, his loving, heavenly father that would fill his holes up with the holy spirit.

��tobio, follow me for a second please? i need to speak with you privately for awhile.” a forged grin took reign of your lips, softly signalling for your son as you escorted him through the barren temple halls. after he had finished passing out coloring activities for the group to engross in, he swiftly followed your lead.

“yes father, what is it that-” you barely gave kageyama a warning before slipping your forearms under his thighs, entangling the remainder of his limbs around your lower and upper body. you lifted his smaller from with ease, hot breath tickling the shell of his ear as your tone dropped to a deep whisper.

“are you ready to give your body to our savior, tobio?”

“yes father y/n, yes i am.”

that was all the confirmation you needed to proceed with blessing him. abandoning your clothes at the altar of god, you began to strip the boy attached to your body. steadily yanking down his suit pants, your cock already springing to life as his own came into view.

it was insatiably erect, you forbid your son from even being curious when it came to exploring his hormones. you knew one day keeping him fresh, unexposed to lewd activity would come in handy.

and it did, oh god it did.

his body was sensitive to the touch, you were concerned he was going to cum without you even putting a hand near his bulge. much less before the fun started. it was like caressing a rock, he was so stiff, the tip already dribbling a tiny bit of pre by the time you were able to finish your first stroke to the hilt.

after giving a few more measly flicks to the head of his cock; you guided tobio’s naked body towards the bible you had prepped specifically for this occasion. the oak pulpit stood tall amongst the various rows of seats— at the head of the stand was kageyama; exposed, ass out, and face burried deep inside the open book sprawled out for easy reading.

he could barely squeak out the first few passages as your lube coated fingers spread his cheeks and stretched his virgin hole to a worthy size; able to fit your fat cock.

it burned and ached, the agony of your fingers poking around his walls overthrew any noticable pleasure that may have slipped in unnoticed; it was torture. he thought intimacy was supposed to feel good. he should've listened when you told him it wasn't fun, how it was a crime against god and how he'd be severely punished for doing as such until he was proposed to by the right man.

but you were the right man, at least that's what you would tell him. so why was it so discomforting, so harsh? you weren't purposefully harming him were you? the paranoia was getting to him, it was so overwhelming, the thought of the man he adored so dearly causing him pain. hot, salty tears pricked his eyes, lashes catching any access fluid as they could meanwhile the clear streaks dusted his cheeks with red.

his hole was still barely twitching with anticipation, and would be for awhile; throwing your head back, you painfully fed kageyama’s rim your length. every inch that ventured just as deep as the last forced strained hiccups to seethe from behind his teeth. he was unbearably tight, his guts sucked you in while his walls showed heavy resistance— pushing you in and out of your trembling son.

“fucking hell.. dumb bitch, you’re so tight. ease up, i thought you'd serve me better- maybe i was wrong.”

no no, you were wrong, right? he was great, such an obedient little cocksleeve just for you, all for you. all he ever did was to please you; the man who he chased after for years, claiming he wasn't as nice as he predicted? panick only settle into him more, ruthlessly he began bucking his hips to match your unenthusiastic thrusts. attempting to appease you wasn't an easy feat, but he was so utterly devoted to you that the condition of his vessel meant nothing if it meant you were proud of him.

he attempted to slur out a form of quivering tongue with a few biblical quotes shoved in-between. whatever he was reciting wasn't human, infact you couldn't tell if he was fucked out or just anxious. whatever it was, your words had preformed their purpose; you were far too impatient to fully prepare him for the world of sex. forcing him to mature on the other hand seemed to run it's course— he was the one himself impelling himself onto at the end of the day.

your arms snaked around his tiny waist, hoisting his feet up and off the ground. the entirety of his lower half no longer met with the floor, steamy tears teased eyes while the remainder of his efforts worked into engulfing you whole. the stimulation of being carried off the ground just like that was unimaginable; only to have his pussy pounded mercilessly into the wooden podium.

“ack! ah.. mm. daddy, pl- please i can do better! m’promise, don't hold back- i want to feel every inch of you!” so vulgar, you weren't aware of tobio’s filthy mouth.

angling your hips to perfectly kiss his prostate with every shift in your pace, you plowed repeatedly into the spongy skin until he was no longer babbling on about anything coherent. whatever bible quote he was now listing off was lost within euphoria; his hole was loosening up more and more with each thrust you planted deep inside of his stomach.

he know knew how desperately he craved seeing your cum gush right out of his gaping ass. more than anything in the world.

“hah, what a stupid whore, letting your father fill up your belly like this? no wonder you can't do anything but flatter me.”

“m’not a stupid whore, daddy i promise!”

the way his cunt squelched around you told otherwise, you didn’t let up on the insults; constantly bombarding the male with word after word. his trembling thighs and drool stained expression prompted you to continue the vile humiliation.

“oh-ho yes you are, you're lucky i’m even taking the time to fuck you like this. the lord wouldn't dare touch you, so why should i? you're charity work kageyama, nothing but pity.”

giving his plump rear a deathly tight squeeze, you ramped up the vigor in your movements. aching breaths escape your nose as you send forth more shivers down the length of his spine— as much as he wants to keep you satisfied he can only withstand so much. this is his first time being lost within the rapturous waves of an orgasm. religious words still on the tip of his tongue as your name bounces off the empty church hull.

there's a puddle of semen beneath you at his feet, he's cum far too many times for you to count and he's just now; once again fighting for release. his limp, shaking shaft all swollen as it spurts out the umpteenth load that session.

you swiftly follow behind, using the last bit of strength in your twitching thigh muscles— you sent your hips forward, fully submerging your fat cock down his rectum. he yelps almost violently, but he adores it. the way you use up his spent hole. the amusement in his moans fizzle once he finally comes to his senses, realizing there's no cum sliding down his guts and into his tummy. the expected feeling of warm, sticky fluid staining his intestines was the big prize he was looking forward to.

“don’t you remember, your only use is to please me tobio. and you couldn't even do that, that's why you don't get daddy's cum. understand?” a disappointed glare forms on your face, once he's luckily unable to see.

he implores like you've never heard from anyone before, you've had your fair share of sexual favours under the church’s nose. but the dark haired male in particular was one of a kind, he was begging you for your seed like his life was dependant on whether or not you fufilled his lustful desires. he needed your cum, right there, right now.

even attempting to guide your entirely hard cock right back into his enormous asshole, which you allowed. your composure was iron-willed, you knew you could cum on command if need be. giving into his sinful fantasies, you pistoned yourself balls deep once more— your hands moving his hips for him as he pleaded for the sweet release of your fluids.

“please daddy, m’such a good cum dump! i promise, please just cum inside of me. i need it, i’ll do anything! anything!”

anything indeed, you had just the thing in mind. and you were sure tobio wouldn't refute, how could he? there wasn't any other choice, it was your cum or no cum. simple as that.

#𓉔 — m.list #𓉔 — directory.#𓉔 — works.#c; tobio #kageyama tobio x top male reader #kageyama tobio x male reader #tobio kageyama x top male reader #tobio kageyama x male reader #haiykuu x top male reader #haikyuu x male reader #dark haikyuu #haikyuu smut #tobio kageyama

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tempestsreach-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Fuck Diet Culture

This is going to be long. It’s going to be rambly. It’s going to be sad. It’s going to be angry. There’s going to be language some people don’t like. I can’t NOT talk about it though.

Fuck diet culture. Let me say that again. Fuck. Diet. Culture. It has taken such a huge chunk out of my life. I have lost pieces of myself I’m not sure I’ll ever get back. The only way to heal is to go through. I can’t go back. I have to move forward. But I can’t do it quietly. I can’t hide. I can’t live in the same shame I’ve spent the last 40 years in. Literally. 40 years of my life wasted to this. I can’t bear to live the back half of my life in the same way. What the hell is the point? I’m not going to write this in any particular order because all of the thoughts and feelings swimming around are snapshots of things in my life that diet culture has broken in me or stolen from me. A lot of you aren’t going to agree with me. That’s okay. Truly. This is about ME. This is to help ME heal. You can talk to me about your struggles, your diets, your ups and downs, your successes and whatnot. I am here for you in all of it. But I won’t diet with you anymore. Never again.

Currently I am having severe knee pain. One knee is worse than the other, but both are bad. I should go to the doctor. I should have gone to the doctor years ago for it. Want to know why I didn’t? My weight. I have injuries from overuse and over exercise and I am terrified that I am going to go to the doctor and the first words they’re going to say are “Well, if you lost 20, 30, 40, 50 pounds, it probably wouldn’t hurt so much.” instead of listening to me, examining me, scanning my knees and HELPING me. I don’t feel this way irrationally. This shit happens. I am in pain. I don’t know how to get help without being told to go on another diet that will not work.

Because diets don’t work. Not long term. I am excellent at losing weight! I’ve done it over and over and over. Then I stop restricting, counting, starving, and pushing myself. Then my body says “What the fuck were you doing?” and puts it back. I lost the ability years ago to know whether I’m actually hungry or not. I eat too fast when I do eat because if I snarf it down super fast I can get it in before my brain says “You’ve had too much. Did you count those calories? How many miles on a treadmill will you do to make up for that? Did you actually earn this meal?”

Every time. Every meal. Every morsel.

I have never been officially diagnosed with an eating disorder. Only been told by therapists and psychiatrists that I definitely engage in disordered eating.

No shit.

Every diet under the sun. Cabbage soup. Phen Fen. Weight watchers (MULTIPLE TIMES), TOPS, Noom, My Fitness Pal calorie counting, intermittent fasting, and every whacky bullshit thing in between promising results. I’ve purchased fancy scales. I’ve even tried one that wouldn’t show you your weight, but the color of your progress in the app. Here’s a hint… if you gain, your color is black like death. I’ve failed a million times and I’ve blamed myself. I am the failure. So I hate my body a little more every day and I stress about how I’m going to NOT pass my disordered eating and my food issues onto my kids. My stress levels are through the roof and 98% of it is diet culture related. What the fuck is that about? Every time I start a program I hit it hard. Last time I tried anything involving tracking or counting I was so starving by the time I got home from work that I almost ripped a child’s head off (not literally OBVIOUSLY) but I screamed at her at the top of my lungs because she hurt my feelings. It wasn’t until after finally allowing myself to eat another morsel of food that I realized I was hangry.

Why is living in a larger body not acceptable? We all talk about diversity and equality as though we believe it with our whole hearts, but that doesn’t cross over to fat. Or skinny if we’re really being honest. How many times have you heard or seen online “Oh my god, she’s so skinny. Feed her a damn cheeseburger! She looks anorexic.” I know I have. I know I’ve said those words. I will punch myself in the gut if I ever say them again.

Every body is different. We are supposed to be. Let’s not BLAME genetics like it’s a bad thing. Let’s realize that it’s what nature has intended. My father is over 6 feet tall and a large man. He’s just a big man. He went on Nutri System when I was young, lost a ton of weight, and put a bunch back on over the years because he is a big man. My mother was not tall, but was always large. I hated her body because HER PARENTS told her all the time she was fat and unworthy and cautioned me not to grow up to be like her in any way. Even when she was poor and homeless she was still large. That was the way her body was. I wonder how different her life might have been if the size of her body hadn’t been a factor in the way she was raised or treated. How might that have made my life different?

I know a lot of you are probably rolling your eyes at me right now about being vocal about another health plan or saying to yourself “just because you have trouble with diets doesn’t mean they don’t work” I know there are people close to me thinking “She just always gets excited when she discovers a new diet, that’s probably what this is.” NO.

This is me finally realizing that I can heal and healing doesn’t mean I need to weigh 157 pounds. (That’s the weight limit for women my height to enter the air force when I did in 1992) This is me finally realizing that I’ve been lying about the weight on my drivers license for 30 years because gods forbid anyone saw my real weight on that document. This is me realizing that I’ve spent my life trying to live up to other people’s ideals of what I should look like because I assumed they wouldn’t like me otherwise. This is me realizing how much unintentional harm I could have been doing when sharing another diet, another idea, another bout of “well this is working really well for me!” with people I care about. This is me realizing how much damage I’ve been doing to myself living with this level of shame for 40 years. Hiding what I’m doing. Suffering in silence. Hiding food. Restricting. Binging. Over exercising to compensate. Spending money on one last diet. Spending emotional energy on one last hope. We were in Las Vegas for what was supposed to be a fun vacation last week and I was so hot and miserable and so steeped in hating my body because my painful knees were betraying me that my internal monologue was a never ending loop of “I’ll hit weight watchers REALLY HARD when we get home and get rid of this weight, then I’ll figure out my knees and work on maintenance” Let me say that again, clearly. I struggled to enjoy my vacation because I was obsessing about restricting food AFTER my vacation. One last time. One last meal.

BULLSHIT.

We walked by shops with weird and pretty fashion dresses. (I freely admit I don’t understand fashion) the husband and I would both point out ones we thought were pretty. My brain would get stuck on “Yeah, but they don’t make them in my size” or “Yeah, that would NOT look good on me. It looks fine on that size 0 mannequin” Pretty on other people. Other people are pretty. Not me. Diet culture is pervasive and all consuming. In big ways and little ways. I’m 5 ft 9. I’m not a tiny person at any weight. I’ve always been told I’m too big. Even when I sit, I slouch a little and/or tuck my legs and feet up under me to try to make myself appear smaller and less invasive. This is subconscious. I don’t always realize I’m doing it until my knees remind me. Most of my life has been things that get in the way of my diets. “I should start the diet today, but it’ll have to wait until next week because so and so’s birthday is this week and I want to be able to enjoy that.” or “It’s late fall, I should just start now but first there’s my birthday, and then Thanksgiving, and December happens and there’s all kinds of treats then. Better wait until January, but not the first because that’s new year’s...maybe the following Monday.” or the ever popular “I already had a bad eating day today, I’m a failure. Why bother? Fuck it. I’ll try again tomorrow.” That one was always followed by binging because of the last supper mentality. If I’m starting a diet tomorrow I better eat EVERYTHING NOW. This is how I’ve lived my whole life. The time not spent dieting was just the time in between diets where I was planning my next diet. So much life wasted. The only time I was not actively dieting or planning the next diet or suffering from “I’m just too exhausting to put effort into food right now” was during my 4 pregnancies. I let myself eat whatever and whenever because I was nauseous all the time anyway and something in my brain made me fuel my body for the babies. When the youngest was born and the on call doctor who delivered her told me I was too fat to have my tubes tied I definitely started planning diets again in that moment. I believe now, years later, that my diet and diet culture ruined mind and body is part of what kept me from being as successful at nursing the kids as I wished I had been. I assumed my body was broken and not good enough for my babies. The last time I lost a LOT of weight it was because I didn’t want to ruin someone’s wedding pictures. True story. This was nothing that person felt or anything they told me. IT’s what my brain said to me. It’s how I de-valued myself. There are very few current pictures of me now because I’ve been stuck in a place where I feel shame when I see them. When I’m dead, memories and pictures are all my kids and grandkids will have, and I hate myself too much to let anyone take them. That’s not okay.

I dream about food. I daydream about food. Food I “shouldn’t” eat. Food I “should” eat. When to eat. When not to eat. Every spare ounce of energy is spent thinking about food or hating myself which leads to more thinking about food. I am not in a place where I can prepare dinner for my family right now because it’s too hard to put that much energy into food. I force myself to pick the recipes from the app and get the shopping done via instacart so all anyone else has to do is pull up the recipe and make the food. If I’m looking at the ingredients or trying to prep anything I stare at every individual thing debating whether or not I “should” eat it. This is going to take me a long time to break free from. Today I finally feel like I CAN break free. There is nothing wrong with being in a large body or a small body. Food is not good or bad. Food is food. I have to say these things. I have to repeat them to myself or I fall down the rabbit hole again. None of this is work anyone can do for me. I have to live it. I have to work through it. I have to figure it out. If you read this far, my statement stands. If you’re on a diet, I will listen to your woes and hold your hand and I will not judge you for it. This was very hard to write because I am certain some of you who believe in diets, ways of life, and wellness eating may block me now because I spoke my mind. I’ve clung so tight to the people I love and refrained from being honest and speaking my mind for fear of abandonment. I’ll have to live with it if that’s the case here, because people sometimes need to do what’s best for them. Airing this out is one of those things for me. It’s a scary thing for sure. I also want to say that I’m happy for this to lead to discussion. I’m not going to shut anyone down for wanting to talk to me about this. I am always open to learn new information and see different perspectives. Just know that if I’m emotional and feeling a lot of strong things about how my life has been up to this point, and I am entitled to believe what I believe just as you all are. I’m happy to share sources and books I’ve been reading on the subject. They are not diet books.

Here’s to doing better from here on out.

Here’s to finally being free.

#intuitive eating #anti diet #mental health #fuck diet culture

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feitanswife · 4 years ago

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So uh good news: due to reasons I finally have money and I decided to use it to finally play a Rune Factory game besides the first one. So I got 4s.

Less good news: I was a fool to think I could finish a Rune Factory game in less than a week. I was lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that you can chop stumps from day 1 and only have four major dungeons.

I swept the first two dungeons before I even had a monster barn and never even bothered with companions. It’s not even summer yet and I’m like halfway through the plot. I’m already planning my wedding to Vishnal and what we’re going to name our kids. God he’s literally perfect and you all sleep on him so hard! What’s a man without animal ears gotta do you get some fan appreciation around here?

But that goddamn mansion. It is the stuff of nightmares. How many monsters can you fit in one tiny corridor??? That’s gotta be against fire code or something! I finally caved and started dragging my husband-to-be (even if he doesn’t know it yet) out into the woods with me cause there’s just more monsters than I can handle in that mansion and he’s honestly become more of a liability than anything else. He just dies, all the time.

So my dreams of taking this game with four games worth of quality of life improvements behind it and stomping it under the heel of my ten plus years of obsessive and damn near debilitating resource grinding from playing and replaying the first game of the series over and over... sadly, that dream is crushed.

Could I do it? Yeah, if I played it like you play rf1! Wake up, level until you’re about to drop dead, take a bath, and level until you’re forced to sleep for your own health. But unfortunately this game has a fully fleshed out setting with important characters and meaningful events.

I have to have a work-life balance? In the game??? I don’t even have that in real life!

Also... goddamn is this game pretty.

Since when we’re Rune Factory games like, beautiful??? I mean they’re always beautiful, I’ve been hopelessly attempting to emulate their character designs for as long as I’ve had the games.

But like... rf1 was clearly made on a potato. And this game is very clearly from the same series but god does it look odd in switch graphics! It’s like when I got glasses for the first time and was like “oh god you’re SUPPOSED to see the distance that clearly?”

They clearly have not changed the Medicinal Herb graphic since the series began, and I’m so glad that they never got rid of the weird graphical discrepancy where branches change color if you pick them up! I’ve always loved that!

But now the audio doesn’t bug out when it rains, and the Orcs designs look somehow better and worse in high def (goodbye tiny stick legs ;_;)

At least there’s still the arbitrarily small character limit on the names of everything! God forbid I want to name my Woolly “Prescilla”

Tl;Dr as someone who has only ever personally played the first game in this series and loved it immensely in all its buggy, potato-graphics, bare minimum glory, rf4s feels like a drug trip right out of uncanny valley. Not a bad one, but it’s definitely much different to play it myself rather than watch someone else do it. Very fun! It’s nice to have characters who like, have personalities! And a plot that makes sense! Unfortunately I will probably be continuing my trend of shunning every available love interest in favor of repeatedly marrying my fave!

Also the mansion can kiss my ass

#rune factory #RF4 #did I write this long post to procrastinate my third attempt at the dolce boss fight? perhaps

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insidiousclouds-2 · 4 years ago

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I crave soft fell interactions!! I’m not quite sure how to put it in imagine for the ship but a snippet of Vermillion and Scarlet(Thats what you call them right?) being soft in private. Maybe a hug from behind while Scarlet is doing something. Plz and thank you, sorry if this is a weird ask and not in the boundaries of what you asked for.

((Oh good lord anon, this is my ship!!! You do not understand how much I love this ship- god.. there’s gotta be a better name for the ship. I’ll come up with one someday. It's just so cute!!!! Also, I specifically said that all ships are welcome. Of course this fits the criteria.))

((I’m sorry it got slightly angsty ;w;))

He isn’t quite sure why he woke up, if he had a dream he surely won’t be able to remember it. He’s been sleeping less and less these days, but at least he hasn’t remembered any of the dreams.. or Asgore forbid, nightmares.

Scar opens the fridge, the light produced from the door the only source of sight in the darkness of his silent house. He reaches for his favorite mustard bottle and knocks his head back to squirt the sour goop onto his extended tongue. The zing of the condiment spreading through his mouth and waking him up better than any coffee ever could have. He reaches up to rub his tired socket, guess he’s going to be staying up for a while longer...

The half eaten hot dog that laid unwrapped on top of one of his brother's numerous containers of spaghetti catches his eye.

He hasn’t been the most consistent with eating, mostly snacks here and there, and nothing truly nutritious enough to be counted as a meal. So the hot dog will have to do for his nightly meal. As much as he loves his brother, and loves to support him, there is no force in the entire underground that could force him to eat that so called ‘spaghetti.’

The hot dog is drowned in the mustard just the way he likes it. Scar raises the hot dog to his mouth, the sharp fumes of the mustard filling his senses and-

The light in the kitchen is flicked on.

Caught mid bite he stares at his brother in the doorway to the kitchen. Hadn’t even noticed him coming down the stairs... He looks absolutely dreadful.

“milly...?”

Scarlet’s nickname for his brother, as much as he despises it outwardly, they both know he adores the nickname.

Bags under Vermillion’s sockets speak louder than the silence between the brothers. He reaches for the coffee maker, turning away from his brother as he brews a pot for himself. Zoning out as he watches the pot slowly come to a boil, he barely seems there. His lights unfocused, practically giving him double vision but he hardly seems to care.

Scarlet sighs, no words needed to understand his brother just woke up from a nightmare. Again.

Shoving the mustard drenched hot dog into his mouth, he wanders over to his brother, nonchalantly leaning against the counter with his elbows resting behind him.

Silence fills the room. Tiny sounds becoming the only thing occupying the brother’s minds. The hum and bubbling of the coffee maker, the slight buzzing from electrical parts whirring and heating up the stagnant water. The buzz of the cheap electrical lights from above, being all they could afford, even with all of Scar’s odd jobs. Even wind outside bashing against the sturdy house, giving away that a snowstorm is soon to come.

The peace is soul wrenching.

There is barely a day when either of the brothers experience peace. Only in the wee hours of the morning and even then peace rarely lasts. From a frantic knock at the door to an angry call to arms, peace is something treasured, and far too sparse.

“did..”

Scarlet interrupts the silence, finding his voice far too loud compared to the peace they had just moments ago. He sighs heavily and turns to his brother, now staring at him, neither fully awake.

“did you.. have a nightmare...?”

Vermillion’s tired, previously unreadably expression crumples as he reaches for his brother. His arms wrapping around him as his skull hides into the crook of Scarlet’s neck, who is already enveloping his brother in a warm hug.

Silence falls around them once again, interrupted by shaky breaths once and a while from either brother.

It seemed like they stood there for hours, holding each other, barely a whisper exchanged before Scarlet finally decides they both should sleep. Morning hours are never kind to the mind, especially four AM thoughts.

Clutching onto his brother tightly, his claws nearly digging into Ver’s night shirt, he teleports just above the cushiony pillows of his race car bed. They both fall with each other, but Vermillion has done this a thousand times with his brother, normally he would scold him but.. Tonight he is far too tired.

“Y...Yes.” His scratchy voice makes it difficult to speak, especially since he hasn’t slept well in the past couple of nights. “Yes I had a nightmare.”

Nodding in sympathy, Scarlet cradles his brother’s head against his chest, turning as they both tangle their legs together. Ver’s arm draped over his brother as their chests rise and fall in unison.

“do you want to hear a story?”

It’s how they always passed the time. Got over uncomfortable feelings. Neither good with confronting them directly so.. It was always Scarlet who told his brother’s stories, no matter how old either of them grew. He never ran out of stories.

“Sure.”

Scar draws in a deep breath wracking his tired mind of a story. He always winged it but tonight is really going to be a doozy.

“alright..once upon a time there lived a prince. he was a handsome fellow, strong and courageous. no one could match him in battle in any form. whether it be wits or sword.”

He pauses to gather up the next lines.

“being so awesome came with a price. everyone relied on him, enemies came from afar to find his weaknesses and take him down. he barely had a moments rest. it wore the prince out having to be always available. barely a moments time to himself amongst the war and fighting.”

Scar scratches his jaw stuck on the next part. He has the happy ending in mind but now he needs to get to that part.

“peace never seemed like an option. till one day a diplomat came through. not well known in any sorts but their words calmed the stormy souls of those living in the kingdom. they met with everyone and eventually came up to the prince. the prince didn’t trust them, not one bit. too many have come in an attempt to take his life. he challenged them to a duel but the diplomat surprised him. instead of fighting, they flirted.”

He laughed a little.

“the prince was bested by not someone who fought but by someone who showed mercy. he looked onto his people to see peace along the land where there had been strife. it was confusing and terrifying..to see everyone getting along. but the diplomat did it. they went on to talk to the king and the world was no longer kill or be killed. weak monsters could go out without fear of being slaughtered. chatter filled the streets instead of swords clashing and screams. the prince had no idea how they did it.”

Scar gently strokes his brothers skull.

“the prince had their first morning without being interrupted. able to drink coffee while gazing out the window onto his kingdom. for once..he had no worries. the prince had to know how the diplomat quelled the souls of everyone. he approached them after getting ready and demanded their secrets. the diplomat gave a small chuckle and smiled up at the prince. “mercy and kindness.” is all they told him. having a twinkle in their eyes. the prince didn’t quite get it but he swore to understand how to resolve things like the diplomat did. from that day forth peace stayed in the kingdom. the kind and prince ruling with a kinder grip and strife was rarely seen. each morning the prince got to get up without a frantic knock on his door and enjoy a cup of joe. taking in the serenity until he goes to travel with the diplomat once more. listening and learning while having fun….the end.”

Small beads of sweat dot his forehead. Hoping that the story was good.

Vermillion smiles, his nightmare all forgotten as he leans up to kiss his brother’s jaw, earning a flustered chuckle from Scarlet. Both of them shifting their positions as Ver lays across Scar, nuzzling him softly. Tiredness gripping his soul as he finally feels comfortable enough to sleep.

“Thank you... that was perfect.”

“anything for my bro.”

“Good night, Sans... I love you.”

“heh.. love ya too, paps.”

#skel.imagines #fellcest #fontcest #underfell #vermillion papyrus #scarlet sans #long post #kind of went a little overboard with this #and asked my friend for some help on the story #they're a master at writing #hope this is what you wanted ;w;#i am soft for this ship #it's the cutest ever #ask

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xstarker · 4 years ago

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Since the beginning and until the end (Part Three)

Peter is immortal, reincarnation exists, and in every lifetime Peter has met and loved Tony, only for him to die. He’s hoping this time might be different.

[Part One] [Part Two]

Author’s Note: I put way more effort and detail into this chapter than was necessary, but hopefully it isn’t too much for you all. I really didn’t want to post it as two parts seeing as there is no mentions of Tony in this one and this is a Starker fic, but I felt like this chapter added to the story and Peter being immortal in a fun way.

That being said, this chapter is centered around the events of Captain America: The First Avenger.

Warnings: Mentions of canon character “death”, Nazis, War, etc. This chapter includes mentions of Stucky and Steggy.

Words: 4.4k

Peter has always tried to avoid going to the doctor whenever possible. He knows that if a doctor were to examine his reflexes or his strength too closely, or God forbid take his blood, that he could end up as someone’s lab experiment – or worse. That being said, he also hasn’t exactly been super cautious in the past either.

Over the years he’s made a habit of using his curse of immortality and the unique features that came with it, to help people. He ran in front of oncoming traffic to save little girls, retrieved cats from trees, caught someone who fell off a building, and even stopped a predator or two. He has never just been that person who stands by and lets bad things happen if he has the power to stop them.

That’s why he ends up sitting in a medical exam room, waiting for a doctor to come clear him to join the military. He never really wanted to be an army man, but he also never expected one world war let alone two, and he certainly couldn’t stand idly by.

“You are marvelously fit, Mr Parks.” A deep german accent draws Peter’s attention to the curtain, a gentleman in a suit in the process of pulling it back and entering the room, Peter’s file in hand.

“Almost miraculously. You don’t even seem to have any real medical history. Your doctor gave me the results of your physical examination but little else. My name is Dr Abraham Erskine.” Peter tenses. Here was exactly what he always feared. Maybe if he grabs his clothes and runs now-

“So, you want to kill Nazis?” Peter’s attention is drawn back to the doctor.

“I don’t want to kill anyone. I just know that I have the ability to help all of those men who are out there fighting to end all of the genocide.” Dr Erskine nods.

“I can offer you a spot on a project I am working on. There are others, all of them hoping to be picked to be the first test subject.”

“Test subject for what? I don’t really want to be a test subject.”

“I will be honest with you, if you are with me. Yes?” Peter nods in agreement, curious by the strange doctor.

“The project is a serum to create the perfect soldier. However, from what I can see of you, it won’t be needed. Why is that?”

Peter swallows the lump in his throat. “It’s kind of complicated, but essentially I was bit by a cursed spider which gave me certain… genetic enhancements.”

Dr Erskine raises his eyebrows and smiles warmly, and seeing as the man doesn’t make Peter’s instincts go haywire, he thinks trusting him might not be the worst decision.

“That sounds absolutely insane, but given that you seem relatively sane and the physical evidence thus far, I suppose I have no choice but to believe you. Though I do expect that I will see more of these genetic enhancements overseas.”

“That is very likely, should you approve me sir.”

“Get dressed. You’ll need to pack a bag. Pack light though.” Peter smiles and jumps up from his seat, rushing to put his clothes back on and follow Dr Erskine out of the room, where the man then stamps a bold black 1A on his file.

“Congratulations soldier.” The doctor says, passing the file over to Peter. “You’re the second man I’ve approved tonight.”

“The second?”

“You will meet him when you ship out tomorrow morning.” Dr Erskine gives him another small smile and walks away.

As it turns out, the other man he approved is Steve Rogers from Brooklyn. They talk on the way to base, and he learns Steve has lost both parents to the war, and that he has always wanted to join himself but was never able to due to all of his medical conditions. When he actually begins to list them all, Peter understands why. He thinks Dr Erskine must really see something in him in order to risk bringing him into the military.

At base, dressed in their new uniforms, Steve and Peter join the line of soldiers currently waiting to meet their commanding officer. A few of them talk amongst themselves, but Peter and Steve stand quietly now, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes the first day.

“Gentlemen, I am Agent Carter. I supervise all operations for this division.” The woman matching the voice walks around them from the right. Her voice is both soothing and authoritative, as is the way she carries herself. She is a woman who demands respect immediately, and also one of the most gorgeous ones Steve has ever laid eyes on.

“What’s with the accent Queen Victoria? I thought I was signin’ up for the US Army.” Comes a voice to the left of them. Immediately, Peter knows the man has made a mistake.

“What’s your name soldier?” Agent Carter’s face shows absolutely no amusement.

“Gilmore Hodge, your majesty.” He’s so snarky Peter can’t help but roll his eyes.

“Step forward Hodge.” The man obeys the order almost immediately, to the surprise of both Steve and Peter. “Put your right foot forward.”

“We gonna wrassle? Cause I got a few moves I know you’ll like.” Peter knows the punch is coming before she does it, yet he still lets out a soft laugh. Carter makes eye contact with him and gives him the smallest smile, just as another man in uniform approaches.

“Agent Carter.” She straightens her blazer.

“Colonel Phillips.”

“I can see that you are breaking in the candidates. That’s good!” The man – Colonel Phillips - comes to a stop in front of Hodge. “Get your ass up out of that dirt and stand in that line at attention until someone comes and tells you what to do.”

Hodge hops up fast, immediately complying. “Yes sir.”

“General Patton has said that wars are fought with weapons, but they are won by men. We are going to win this war because we have the best men.” When he gets to ‘men’ Peter sees his eyes connect with Steve’s tiny form, and his statement suddenly sounds like more of a question. The colonel looks over at Erskine, his face doing nothing to hide the disappointment in his eyes.

“And because they are going to get better. Much better.”

The colonel goes on to explain the goal is to create the best army in history, and he says every army starts with one man. As it turned out, that one man would be chosen by the end of a week’s worth of tests. They do all of the basic things you would expect an army to do, everyone competing to get the best time or the most push-ups, the best score. Peter doesn’t really compete, but he doesn’t bother hiding his ability to do them all with ease either, knowing Erskine wanted to see what he could do in action. He ends up with the best scores in most of the tests, while Steve is dead last in nearly all of them. This doesn’t seem to disappoint Erskine in the slightest.

“Faster ladies! Come on. My grandmother has more life in her, God rest her soul.” They are all doing push-ups, next to him Steve struggles to barely do one. Peter feels bad for him, knowing he is struggling to do all of the tests but he’s still pushing himself as hard as he can.

“Please tell me you aren’t really thinking about picking Rogers.” Peter’s super hearing picks up on Colonel Phillips’ voice before he’s even finished walking over to the truck in front of the group.

“I’m more than just thinking about it. He is the clear choice.”

“When you brought a 90-pound asthmatic onto my army base, I let it slide. I thought ‘What the hell, maybe he’d be useful to you, like a gerbil.’ I never thought you’d pick him.” They come to a stop at the truck, and Agent Carter has the group switch to jumping jacks. Peter can hear the struggle in Steve’s lungs.

“You stick a needle in that kid’s arm, it’s gonna go right through him. Look at that, he’s making me cry.” Peter glances over at Steve, and really the sight is something pitiful.

“I am looking for qualities beyond the physical.” Erskine explains.

“Do you know how long it took to set up this project? All the groveling I had to do in front of Senator What’s-His-Name’s committees?”

“Brandt. Yes, I know. I am well aware of your efforts.”

“Then throw me a bone. Hodge and Parks both passed every test we gave them. They’re strong, they’re fast, they obey orders. They are soldiers.”

“Hodge is a bully. As for Parks, I have already told you he is not going to be receiving the serum. He does not need it.”

“You don’t win a war with niceness Doctor.” Peter’s eyes follow Colonel Phillips, watching as he grabs a grenade from the truck. “You win wars with guts.”

Peter watches him pull the pin and toss the grenade, not feeling the familiar tingle of danger run up his spine, he immediately knows the bomb is a dud. This was a test.

“Grenade!” He yells, and everyone begins jumping away, scared out of their minds. Peter steps back, but watches in fascination as Steve immediately moves to wrap his entire frail little body around it, planning to risk his own life to protect everyone else around him.

“Get away!” He yells. “Get back!”

Both Peter and Erskine smile. Peter gets it now, why Erskine wants Steve.

Peter and Steve are similar in a lot of ways, and had that been a real grenade, Peter knows he would have done the very same thing. He knows this is the kind of person who power belongs to, and he knows if anyone else had gotten the curse that he had, they wouldn’t have used the abilities the same way.

Well, anyone else but Steve Rogers.

That same day they tell Steve he’s been chosen to go first, and Erskine comes to talk to Peter alone, a bottle of Schnapps half empty in his hand. He tells him about Johann Schmidt, how he believes all the myths and legends, and that he believes a superior man is meant to wield hidden powers left in the Earth by the Gods. Peter knows this to be mostly true, but doesn’t say anything about it. The Doctor also tells him about how Schmidt was the first to take the serum, and how the serum amplifies what a person is like on the inside, having made Schmidt a monster both inside and out.

Once again, Peter understands his decision to take Steve.

“Peter, I am telling you this because it is very likely Schmidt will try something. Though we have many precautions in place, HYDRA has eyes and ears everywhere. He will find out. In case something should happen to me or to my research, I am asking you to help Steven in any way you can. Win this war for all of us.”

Peter nods, determination in his gaze. “I understand Doctor. Isn’t there any way I can be there tomorrow? Just in case?”

“I am afraid not. I have pulled as many strings as I can just to get Steven in that pod first. I am trusting you to do what needs to be done.”

“I won’t let you down.”

Peter gets word he is to ship out to London only an hour in advance. He doesn’t have much to pack anyways, but he does wish he could say goodbye to Steve. He wonders how the procedure went, and when he will see his friend as well as Dr Erskine again.

It’s the flight to London that he learns he won’t ever see the doctor again, but the procedure was successful.

“Sorry you had to hear it from me pal.”

“It’s not your fault Mr Stark.”

“Oh please, I’m barely older than you. Call me Howard.” There’s amusement in Howard’s voice, but none of their faces match it.

“Not that I am complaining, but why am I being sent to London? And where’s Steve?” Peter’s seated near the front of the plane, Agent Carter and Colonel Phillips talking in hushed tones near the rear. Peter tries to catch a few words, but the plane is so loud it is already making it hard enough to hear Howard less than ten feet from him.

“Dr Erskine knew something like this could happen. He had certain plans in place, which included leaving me a very detailed letter about his experience with you. I convinced the Colonel you would be useful on the front lines, and if I can manage to get you in my lab too, I wouldn’t exactly be disappointed.”

“That depends on what you mean by getting me in your lab.”

“Cursed spiders causing miraculous abilities aren’t exactly common Parks. As for where Rogers is, Senator Brandt talked him into doing propaganda shows since Phillips wasn’t exactly keen on him joining us in London.”

“What? I thought the serum was a success.”

“It was, but that doesn’t mean he wants an inexperienced science experiment running around with a gun. His words, not mine.”

Peter sighs. He knows Erskine would hate his work going to something as trivial as that. Peter hates it too.

“If I am going to be in your lab, it’s going to be to help you with your work. Not as another experiment.”

Peter helps Howard in the lab in-between missions. They throw playful banter back and forth while working, becoming quick friends. Howard continues to ask about the spider, and Peter does his best to answer questions, but refuses to be submitted to any tests, never wanting the military anywhere near his DNA, even if he does trust Howard to some extent.

On one particular mission in November of 1943, he’s sent with two hundred soldiers from the 107th to Austria. It’s on that mission that he briefly meets the man Steve can’t seem stop talking about whenever they see each other, Bucky Barnes. They try their best against the forces of HYDRA but in the end, Peter still returns with less than half of the men he left with, and Bucky is one of the unlucky souls that doesn’t return at all.

Peter lies awake that night, unable to sleep as guilt eats at him. The next day he tries to convince Colonel Phillips to let him go back to try and save the rest, but is given a firm no. The Colonel tells him it’s too risky, even if he were to go alone.

Steve comes to base for a show just a few days later, his audience the remaining members of the 107th. They don’t seem all that impressed by the propaganda, yelling and throwing things at Steve to get him off-stage. Peter understands their frustration, but he also doesn’t believe Steve really did anything to deserve that sort of treatment.

Peter goes to find Steve after the show, and sees Peggy has beat him to it. He is about to turn around and go wait for a better time to speak with Steve when he catches part of the conversation the pair are having.

“Schmidt sent out a force to Azzano. Two hundred men went up against him, and less than half returned. Your audience contained what was left of the 107th. The rest were killed or captured.”

“The 107th?” He hears the panic in Steve’s voice, and then he is on his feet, rushing toward the base where Colonel Phillips sits under a tent planning their next move, Peggy behind him. Peter doesn’t need to hear the conversation to know where this is going. Instead, he decides to go wait in Steve’s tent with his bag packed, knowing he would be there soon to pack a bag himself.

When Steve does get to the tent less than ten minutes later, he looks surprised to see Peter. “Let me come with you.”

“What?” Steve’s already grabbing things and shoving them into his bag, anxiety clear on his face.

“I was with the 107th on that mission. I asked to go back out there, but Colonel Phillips wouldn’t let me. Please, let me help you.” He’s practically begging, but he would never forgive himself if he let Steve go alone to try and rescue the men which he should have been able to bring back safely himself.

“What exactly do the two of you plan to do? Walk to Austria?” Both men turn their heads to Peggy as she enters the tent.

“If that’s what it takes.”

“The Colonel is devising a strategy. If he detects that-” Steve interrupts her.

“By the time he’s done that, it could be too late.” Steve throws his jacket on and grabs the metal shield he has been using as a prop for his shows, then exits the tent with both Peter and Peggy on his heels.

“You told me you thought I was meant for more than this. Did you mean that?” The question is directed at Peggy. Peter puts his belongings in the car next to Steve’s and hops in the passenger seat.

“Every word.”

“Then you gotta let us go.”

“I can do more than that.”

Peggy comes back with one of the showgirl’s helmets, the letter A painted on the front, and Howard as their pilot.

Howard gets them almost all the way there, but bombs begin to go off all around them. Steve and Peter make the decision to jump before they get all the way in, urging Howard to turn around immediately.

Once on the ground they sneak onto one of the trucks coming into base, easily taking out the two HYDRA soldiers inside. They wait until the truck parks to sneak out, Steve leading the way onto the roof.

Inside the base it’s a lot more sneaking around, which Peter happens to be rather good at, and it turns out so is Steve. They pass a set of what looks like some sort of ammunition, except it glows a bright blue. Steve pockets one of the clips to bring back to base for Howard.

When they finally find the cells, they subdue the guard and begin unlocking them. Bucky is nowhere to be seen. Steve gives the men instructions on how to get out, and is immediately ready to go looking for Bucky again. He pauses on his exit to look at Peter.

“Are you coming?”

“Recusing Bucky is your mission. I think I should make sure the rest of these men get out of here in one piece. I owe them that.” Steve nods, then takes off out the door. Everyone else, including Peter, begin to make their exit, causing chaos all around the base.

In the end, Steve and Peter return to base with another hundred or so men, including Bucky, following close behind.

That night everyone goes out to a local bar for drinks. Steve goes around asking who wants to go back out with him and help wipe HYDRA off the map, and surprisingly a decent few say yes. Unsurprisingly, so does Bucky.

“What about you Peter? You came with me for the rescue, will you join us?” Peter gives Steve a smile.

“As if you could keep me away. I came out here to make a difference Steve, and there is no better place to do that then with you.” Peter doesn’t mention Erskine asking him to stay with Steve, because even if he hadn’t asked, Peter would still have agreed. This is where he was needed the most, he could feel it.

Howard makes Steve a shield after hearing that it seems to be the man’s preferred weapon. He makes the suit at Steve’s request. It looks good on him, making him look somewhat like a superhero while still being properly fitted for war. Peter almost asks Howard for one himself, but decides against it.

The Howling Commandos is what they end up calling their group of chaotic men. They wipe base after base off the map, the group all getting to know each other rather well during the missions.

Then on one particular mission, they ambush a train Dr Zola is said to be on, headed toward another base. A hole gets blown in the side during their fighting, and Bucky falls, assumingly to his death. Steve doesn’t take it well to say the least, because that night he sits alone in that same bar as before, attempting to drink his sorrows away, the bar in ruin around him thanks to the war.

Colonel Phillips interrogates Zola for hours, and the next day they have enough intel to send everyone out on another mission, as it turns out, the last one they would go on together.

Steve enters through the front, causing a scene and effectively getting himself kidnapped, which of course is just part of the plan. Peter and three others use grappling hooks to swing in through the window, clearing the room quickly. Schmidt makes a run for it in all of the chaos, so Steve runs after him, shield in hand. Peter follows, doing his best to clear the way of any HYDRA soldiers that get in Steve’s way.

They lose sight of each other after Steve follows Schmidt through a door that he manages to keep open with his shield just long enough to slip through, but Peter and Peggy are quick to find another way to catch up with him, stealing Schmidt’s car and speeding down the runway after him.

They make it just in time for Steve to jump onto the plane, Peter bringing the car to a stop just in time for one of the wheels to be hanging off, but not sending them over the edge. Right before he jumps, Peggy surprises them both by speaking up.

“Wait!” She pulls him down for what Peter is sure is their first kiss. “Good luck.”

Steve turns to look at Peter. “What? I’m not kissing you.” Peter can’t help but laugh, Steve smiling and making the jump to the plane without another word.

On the edge of the runway, Peter throws the car into reverse until the front two tires catch on the edge and finally, they are safely planted on the metal ground. He turns the car around, and drives full speed back toward the base.

The last time he speaks to Steve is with Peggy by his side, over the communications to Schmidt’s plane.

“Come in, this is Captain Rogers. Do you read me?” They both run to the seat at the same time, Morita already seated, having been waiting for any word to come through from the other side.

“Captain Rogers, where is your-?” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence because with one shared look, Peggy and him are switching places and she is grabbing the intercom in her hand.

“Steve is that you? Are you alright?”

“Peggy, Schmidt’s dead!” That should be good news, so why did Steve sound so panicked?

“Steve what’s going on?”

“Peter? The plane’s rigged to blow.”

“Of course, it is. Why wouldn’t it be?” Peter groans in frustration, anxiety building. If the plane was rigged to blow, there were very few options for a safe landing.

“I can try and force it down.”

“I-I can get Howard on the line. He’ll know that to do.” Peggy’s might be in worse shape than Peter, but no one could really be sure. Both of them are close to tears now, but Peter has never seen Peggy look so vulnerable.

“There’s not enough time. This thing’s moving too fast and it’s heading for New York.” A pause and then, “I gotta put her in the water.”

“Please, don’t do this. We have time. We can work it out.” Despite her trying to reassure him over the radio, Peter knows they don’t have nearly enough time.

“Steve is there any sort of emergency pod or autopilot you can reset? Anything to where you can set the plane to crash but get out safely?” He’s unsure how he manages to get the words out without his voice cracking, so many emotions flooding his senses all at once.

“Not from where I am sitting. I already tried overwriting the autopilot but it’s locked in place. I’d need a genius to overwrite it. Right now, I’m in the middle of nowhere, if I wait any longer a whole lot of people are going to die.” Peter feels a tear roll down his face, and when he looks at Peggy, her face mirrors his own. They were both losing a loved one today, Peggy an almost lover, and Peter a brother, if only in war.

“This is my choice.” Steve speaks solemnly.

“Peggy.”

“I’m here.”

“I’m gonna need a rain check on that dance.” Peter places a hand on her shoulder, she reaches her own up to hold his.

“Alright. A week, next Saturday, at the Stork Club.”

“You got it.”

“Eight o’clock on the dot. Don’t you dare be late. Understood?” She’s talking through tears now, but she manages to speak clearly despite that. Peter remains quiet, letting her talk Steve through this. He isn’t sure he could speak at this point if he tried.

“You know, I still don’t know how to dance.”

“I’ll show you how. Just be there.”

“We’ll have the band play something slow. I’d hate to step on your-” The line goes dead.

“Steve?” Peggy lets out a sob. Peter clenches her hand a little tighter, releasing a shaky breath as the tears overflow.

“Steve?” It’s no use, they both know it’s too late, but she can’t help it. She has to try. Peter feels eyes on them, and turns, making eye contact with Colonel Phillips who at some point made his way here. Peter couldn’t be sure when, too distracted before to notice, but the Colonel’s face shows it was long enough that the man knows what happened. He turns and walks away, leaving the two of them to mourn alone together.

“Steve?”

#starker #tony stark x peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #starker wip #nova writes #since the beginning and until the end #immortal!peter parker

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murderdaddymayhem · 5 years ago

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One Of The Clan - Otis Driftwood x Male Reader

Synopsis: Otis comes out to the Firefly Family and tells them you're his boyfriend.

(Because who cares that they're a gross murder family, they're also really sweet with each other and super supportive so this is totally a thing, thanks)

Wanted to write more Otis x Male Reader for all you guys out there so here you go!! A cute emotional support fluff piece!!!!! (Also be warned there's like one mild slur but no homophobia or anything cause this fic is happiness only zone)

"How are you feeling?" you ask Otis, squeezing his hand. He looks over to you, sulking.

"Like a million fuckin' bucks, thanks for asking."

You shove him playfully, which turns into a dunking match. You finally see a smile clear up Otis' face, but it quickly disappears when he remembers what he's about to do.

Otis met you about a year ago, at a bar somewhere outside town. He had quickly discovered that you were different from other people in the area, just like him, and instead of taking you back to the house to Chik-Fil-A you, he ended up kinda... sorta... liking you.

You two had talked for hours, and he had felt more and more attracted to not only your appearance, but your personality. Otis was very selective about who he gave his time to, and you just turned out to be his favorite person to be around. Otis had brought you around the house a few times, and after a good few months of walking in on some form of anarchy, you had been accepted as a good friend of the family's.

Of course there was one thing that presented itself as an obstacle (at least for Otis). He was adamant that guys just didn't do things like this around here, that if anybody saw you two together, god forbid in public, you'd be strung up on Dr. Satan's hanging tree. You had insisted you cared for him enough to brave all that, and he cared for you too, so you had kept your relationship under wraps.

Until now.

Otis had said something the other day to you on one of your long drives together in your pickup. (It was a favorite date activity of the two of you, other than coming along for a night of murder and mayhem, to drive for hours out into the Texan desert listening to old 70s music, philosophizing, and talking about life.)

"What if my family doesn't want me around anymore if I tell em?"

You had turned off the engine, and sat there in the middle of the dusty plain, Gerry Rafferty's Right Down The Line playing on your beat up old car radio.

"Tell them what?"

Otis had sat there for a long time. "Y'know, about... this whole thing." You had waited expectantly for him to elaborate, since your talk about using words. Otis had huffed, rolling his eyes. "Us, okay! The two of us."

"I'm fairly certain that your family, who regularly chases people around in bunny onesies and holds ceremonial funerals for fun, wouldn't much care who you date or fuck."

Otis throws his head back against the seat. "Yeah but shit, this is different! They let me in, gave me a name I'm proud of, gave me a home. My own biological father used to beat me, call me less than shit, and all for..." He gestured to you and him. "For bein' me, I guess."

"It's fucked up," you say softly, taking his hand.

"Yeah, you got that fuckin' right handsome." He had wiped his eyes. "And them back home... hell. It'd be close to testing their kindness to tell them I'm a queer at this point."

A silence enveloped you both as you switched the radio off.

"Why don't you try?"

"They don't gotta know," Otis snapped, then looked at you, apology clearly written in his eyes. You had just nodded, used to his hurried responses.

"What I mean is... if you're ready... you might feel better finding out if they really are there for you."

He had looked at you, and you took off your shirt, handing it to him to dry his eyes. He used it, and tossed it back to you in a ball. You had laughed, and he had climbed on top of you in the driver's seat, sticking his knife in the seat recliner to make it flop down.

"Mmf," you had complained, his lips smothering yours, "Thanks for breaking my seat."

"Ain't nothing but nothing."

"Bu--"

"RJ can fix it," he had replied, before reaching down to your jeans.

Now, four days after that night, he decided he was ready.

Mostly.

Somewhat.

"You know, you don't have to do it today if you're not ready," you reassure him, but he takes your hand, grasping it tightly.

"Damn it all to hell if I haven't spent all morning working myself up to this. I'm not lettin' that go to waste."

With his usual headstrong determination, he walks through the front door of the house, past Baby's burnt doll collection. He walks on into the living room, where Mama's on the couch watching some show with Baby, Spaulding is in the kitchen, and Tiny is carving a pumpkin at the table.

"Otis, I love you honey, but get the hell outta the way," Mama says sweetly, "Svengoolie's on."

"Fuck Svengoolie," Otis responds, and Tiny looks up from his work at the table, unsettled. Otis holds up a reassuring hand to him, and Baby finally looks away from the TV.

"Brought your friend?" She lets out a giggle, and waves to you. You haven't told Otis, but you're convinced Baby knows about you two already.

"I've... got an announcement to make." Otis shifts around from foot to foot, still holding your hand. Seeing that Otis is serious, (and that he's holding your hand) Mama turns off the TV.

"Who turned off the god damn television? I was watching that," Spaulding comes walking out of the kitchen, scratching his back with a wooden cooking spoon. "Oh. Hiya, you two." He scratches his head with the spoon, raising his painted clown eyebrows when he notices Otis has now got your hand in a deathgrip. "Somethin' we oughtta know, or can we keep watching the show?"

"Daddy, Otis is in love," Baby coos.

"Hush now, angel, let Otis have his moment," Mama hushes, "Go on now, hun, tell us." Otis gives Baby the finger angrily. Baby sticks her tongue out at him in turn, and you shake your head.

"(y/n) and I... are..." He clears his throat about five times, and RJ comes in the door, making a racket.

"RJ, shut the door, Otis wants to tell us something real interesting!" Baby says. RJ frowns, looking over, and Otis rolls his eyes, trying to get back on track.

"We're..." Everyone in the room is hanging on the edge of their seat in anticipation. Even Tiny is sitting forward expectantly. "We're...."

"You're what? Spit it out boy, haven't got all day to listen to you goin' 'we're... we're...' like some kinda yokel fuckin idiot," Spaulding calls.

"Yeah!" Baby yells. Tiny nods.

"We're together, you impatient assholes!!" Otis blurts, holding you close to him, "This guy here. And me. We're together."

"Well, we can see you're--" Mama starts, then she has an epiphany. "OH! Oh my goodness..."

Everyone is quiet for a moment. Spaulding takes a deep breath, and drops the spoon. "I, uh..." he murmurs, "I'll be in the shop." Everyone waits, listening to him peel out of the yard in his car, and Mama waves a hand his way. Then she starts clapping.

"Oh, honey!!"

"I knew you swung different ways, big bro," Baby grins, jumping up and prancing around him, "But it's real swell that ya opened up that big mouth of yours and told us!" Tiny comes over and nearly crushes you and Otis together in a hug. Otis coughs a few times, and swats at him. RJ walks over, smiles a little (the most you'd ever seen him do so) and slaps you both on the back so hard it sends you stumbling. Then he leaves out back, off to do whatever the fuck he does.

"You guys... don't mind?" Otis asks, and you smile his way.

"Mind?! What the hell've we gotta mind about, you two are in loooove!" Mama shrieks. She gives you a huge hug and pinches your cheek. "Love is a beautiful thing that must be celebrated, no matter who it is between."

"Hey you must be real talented off your feet to net this one, if you know what I mean sugar," Baby says to you, and you blush as Otis glares.

"Cut it out."

"You cut it out!"

"Fuck you!"

You clear your throat, and Otis takes his place beside you again.

"And... what about Cutter?" Your boyfriend's voice wavers a little, and he probably hates himself for it. Spaulding is like a dad to him, even if the two are rarely on speaking terms.

"Don't know why daddy left," Baby shrugs. "Seems fucking weird."

"Don't pay no nevermind to that old clown," Mama huffs, "Actually-- you know what? I say we eat the dinner he cooked, then go out and pay him a visit, see just where his head's at. That ain't like him to just up'n leave like that."

"No, I--"

"Come on y'all, we's having a banquet then we’s goin' to the gas station!"

So, after a very nice dinner, everyone piles into the family car. You have to sit on Otis' lap to fit, which is okay with you and okay with him. Once you get to the gas station, Mama stomps out, ready to tear Spaulding a new one... but instead, she gasps.

"Oh, it's so bea-utiful!"

"Jesus Christ, woman, I wasn't even done," Spaulding comes out, complaining. Your face lights up as Otis' jaw hangs open. Tiny grins, and Baby squeals as you all gather around the shop that now has rainbow flags adorning everything.

"Oh my god," you whisper, chuckling, and Otis turns around, face red. He walks right back to the car and goes to get in, but everyone drags him back out.

"What do ya think?" the clown beams, "I'd say I outdid myself." He pulls the string on his skull bowtie, and goes "yaiyaiyaiyai."

"It's amazing," you tell him, "Thanks, Cap." He puts a hand on your shoulder.

"This is an event, son! This is a cause for goddamn celebration, ain't no way I'm gonna miss it." He turns to Otis. "Now I called Charlie, he's gonna bring the girls and the good shit then we're all gonna have a big party tonight."

"Aw shitfire," Otis mutters. Spaulding's eyes widen.

"I dare you to complain! You got no idea how hard it was to reach the ass-backwards fucker, let alone find all this multi-coloured bullcrap in rural Texas to build a shrine for your homo ass!"

"You didn't fuckin' have to, Cutter, I didn't specifically request you throw me a big fuckin' gay bash!"

"You-- shut the fuck up. Charlie's comin'."

"I hate Charlie, that fuckin' nutsack."

"Well he hates you too, but that's just cause you're an asshole."

"Not wrong," Baby hisses, dodging Otis' swipe. You nudge him.

"Your family's happy for you. This is better than what you were imagining would happen," you whisper to him, and he sighs, giving you one of those deep looks you know so well that conveys everything he's feeling to you without words. He hates attention, but deep down you know he loves feeling appreciated-- you know that from your own relationship experience with him.

A cop car suddenly comes driving by, and the window rolls down. You always get worried when that happens, but the others are used to it. Otis takes a few steps in front of you, protectively, and holds your hand.

"Hi there, folks," Wydell says, tipping his hat, "Just asking people in the area if they've seen a missing g--"

"Sheriff Wydell, you miserable motherfucker, GUESS WHAT?! " Spaulding yells, "My son got himself a BOYFRIEND! The anti social one?! Roped in this one right here, ain't he a looker?!" Mama nods excitedly, waving one of the little rainbow flags and pointing at you. The Sheriff awkwardly frowns, and nods slowly, noticing all the rainbow paraphernalia around the station.

"That's... real nice. Y-You folks... have a nice day, then..."

"Holy shit," Otis whines, wishing he could crawl underground to the family catacombs, and you kiss him on the cheek happily.

"Here," Spaulding starts passing greasy paper bags around to everyone. "Tasty fried chicken for everyone to get this shindig going!"

"Alright, fuck yeah," Baby giggles, and goes to dig inside for some booze as well.

"Your chicken is fucking disgusting," Otis mutters, handing his extra bag to Tiny, though he can't help but smile a little. Spaulding gets right in his face with a pointed finger.

"Boy, I'mma let you get away with your ass today, cause you're finally OUT OF THE CLOSET!"

"Announce it to the whole state of Texas, why don't you old man?" Otis retorts, hiding deeper in his plaid sweater. You have to laugh. Tiny joins in, grabbing a rainbow party blower and deafening everyone. He then picks you up and puts you on his shoulders, and starts dancing, poking Otis to join in.

"Oh, I... okay, stoppit, all of you, I just... alright, enough! Tiny, stop!"

"Ohh, but this is so exciting, baby!" Mama grins, trailing her flowy dress around.

"Hell yeah!" Baby calls from inside, coming out with armfuls of beer, "My brother's got himself a pretty boy, let's get fucked up and do fucked up shit!"

Tiny plops a rainbow party hat on top of Otis' head, and your boyfriend sighs.

"You know at this point, I would've preferred you kicked me out of the family or something."

"We'd never do that to ya, big bro," Baby smiles, leaning on his shoulder, "You're one of us." She turns to you. "And now it looks like you are too, (y/n)."

Otis looks at you in irritation. "Lucky for you, babe."

"I actually think I am pretty lucky," you smile, and embrace a big Firefly Family hug.

249 notes · View notes

ren-c-leyn · 5 years ago

Text

The Hero’s Guardian

Hello, hello, another fusion story for you guys. I don’t think I’m actually making a whole lot of progress in cleaning out my drafts, as I add just as many new and amazing prompts as I use (sometimes more) but I’m having fun trying.

This one is made up of this prompt by @p-r-o-m-p-t-s, this prompt by @write-it-motherfuckers, this prompt by @soprompt, these 1,2 by @humdrummoloch, these 1,2,3,4,5,6 by @thependragonwritersguild, this prompt by @scandy-inspo, these 1,2,3,4 by @givethispromptatry, and finally, this prompt by @promptslair.

A similar premise to my other short story, Flowers for the Hero Maker, but I love the trapped, immortal guardian trope every since I played final fantasy 2, at least I think it was number two with the guy and the word labyrinth. *shrugs*

There is quite a bit more swearing than what is normally found in my short stories. Some mention of injuries, and one fight scene. Nothing gory, though.

A boy with orange eyes crossed my path, and the world began to change. Not just mine, but the entire thing. It was so long ago, such a different time. I don’t even recall much of it, only the reassured smile on his face and the hard lesson that came after: Choices evaporate in the presence of fate.

It was a harsh one that came from my elder sisters. I remember they were all doing their own tasks, mixing medicines and making things. It was... so beautiful to watch. It seemed almost like magic. How silly, how naive, but it brought me happiness. I remember, the day after I told them about the boy with orange eyes, I just opened my mouth and said what had been on my mind for years.

“I want to be like you when I grow up!”

“… No, sweetheart.” My sisters glanced at each other before turning back to me. “What we do is not important. You will be important.”

“You’re important to me.”

“And thank the gods everyday for you. You will be better than us.”

I didn’t understand, couldn’t understand. What was more important than them? Than the smiling faces they made? Than the people they mended? The priestess told me. The priestess told me many things, including my fate... a fate she used magic to bind me to.

Before a statue of the orange-eyed boy, she made me swear an oath I couldn’t comprehend. She made a child swear away their life, and I did it because my sisters smiled and nodded. I swore to guard the Forest of Fate... for all of eternity. Oaths mean something around here, even for those who don’t understand what they mean.

I was blinded by the white light. Everyone was blinded by the white light. The white light that gave and stole everything from me.... The light that bound me to this forest, for the rest of time.

Several heroes later, and it was just another day, another chosen one. Only, this one was not particularly promising....

I looked up and down his scrawny frame, the old sword in it’s tattered scabbard, the soft hands, and smirk, and all I felt was simmering annoyance.

Fate was doing this on purpose, the ass.

“So, guardian, what’s my trial? The grand fight before I get my legendary weapon to slay the wizard with as my destiny demands?”

“Your destiny?” I threw my head back and laughed. “You don’t seem to know how Fate works. Should you fail, he’ll replace you. He always does.”

The young man frowned, his dark brown brows furrowing as he straightened himself.

“I won’t fail.”

My laughter ceased. He said the words with such conviction I almost wanted to believe him. Almost. But I knew better.

“We shall see,” I said, pulling my eldest sister’s jewelry box from my pouch, “for your first trial lies within this.”

He tilted his head, like a confused pup.

“What monster fits in such a tiny box?”

I undid the latch, allowing the slime to bounce out of the box. The young man’s confused expression turned to offence.

“A slime? They’re weak enough children can beat them!”

“We shall see.”

I snapped my fingers and the deceptively quick blob of green ooze flew at him, hitting him squarely in the abdomen. No defensive skills, noted. He slashed at it with all of the grace of a drunken horse. No sword training, noted. He then attempted to chase it down as it rolled around the circle. Average speed, noted. By the time he succeeded in defeating my trusted friend, he was winded and displayed nothing remarkable aside from his tenacity. A bonus, I suppose.

“You are not worthy.”

“I am chosen! Of course I’m worthy!”

“It simply means you have more potential to be worthy than the average citizen.” Fate only fucking knows why. “But as of this moment, you are incapable of wielding the weapons and magics I guard. You are far more likely to hurt yourself or innocents.”

“How can you be so sure?” he pressed.

“Do keep in mind that I was here before you, and will be here long after you’re gone. I have seen many come and many go. I know what happens when the unproven attempt to handle what I guard, and like it or not, you’re one of them. Become a man of consequence, and we’ll have this conversation again.”

He huffed.

“And how do I do that?”

I gestured to the forest.

“There’s plenty of monsters to train with. All as, if not more, ancient as myself and just as dedicated to fucking up chosen ones as I am to guarding the place.”

He paused at that.

“But... if it’s full of monsters, what are you guarding this place from?”

“People, mostly, sometimes evil deitys, but that’s really none of your concern. Now either go train, or relinquish your title. I may have eternity, but I assume the normal people you’re tasked with saving do not.”

He frowned as he scrubbed the slime off his face with a handkerchief.

“Where do you suggest I start?”

“The clearing to the west. Stay away from the lake and the mountainous areas. Oh, and if you see a cave, avoid that too.”

“Fine. I’ll be back.”

And then he stormed off.

About three days later, while I was going through my daily training, the bushes began to rattle. I prepared myself for battle, watching them closely. Only, instead of raiders or servants of the god of destruction, the skinny guy from earlier crawled out and collapsed onto the stones, breathing hard.

There was a long moment of silence before I sighed and continued going through my stances and strikes.

“Why are there so many scratches on your face?”

“There was a weird cat with like... five tails, and they had spikes on them....”

“So you decided to challenge it. Smart.”

He sat up, glaring at me.

“You don’t have to be so gods’ damned sarcastic about it! I didn’t know what the fuck it was! And you haven’t been a whole lot of help....”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

“You can thank Fate for that. He decided to deal the creatures here strange cards so adventurers wouldn’t, and I quote, ;get bored’. He also forbid me from teaching chosen ones about the monsters here.”

He stared at me like a kicked puppy.

“But... but why would...? That doesn’t make sense.”

“Welcome to my world. Though, I suspect it may have more to do with training them to discern weaknesses and tactics of enemies for themselves, in case something unpredictable happens.”

He mulled it over for a second before nodding.

“That does make a lot more sense than the boredom thing.... But what’s the point of choosing people if they’re allowed to just die here in the middle of some forest?”

I paused at that, movements and all. I couldn’t help but think back to that day, the day I was led to this place and made my oath.

“I’m not sure there is much of a point.”

He tilted his head at that, but I did not elaborate as I swung my blade with more force than what was needed.

I’m not sure when he left, hours or minutes ago, but it mattered little. I spent the night, and the next few days alone again. He came back eventually, covered in scabs, bruises, dirt, various bloods, and leaves.

“... There is a stream.”

“I know, This is just what I collected between here and there....”

I shook my head, laughing lightly.

“The forest feels threatened. That is a good sign.”

“It is?!” he asked, brown eyes lighting up in hope.

“It is,” I said with a nod, “but you’re still not ready.”

He sighed, shoulders drooping.

“Well... at least I’m making progress?”

“You are,” I agreed, continuing my training.

“So... I’ve been wondering something, since well, even before we met. How did you become the guardian of this place?”

I didn’t answer, choosing to focus on my breathing and my movements.

“I mean, everyone says you were a human once, and not a divine creature.... So, what happened?”

I sighed, lowering the blade as I looked over at him.

“Once upon a time, I was a plucky, young kid going about my day, then shit happened and now we’re here.”

“Touching story,” he replied with a flat sarcasm that probably matched what I gave him at news of his fight with the cat-creature.

I shrugged before resuming my practice.

“Not all tales are. Besides, mine isn’t the important one here.”

He blinked at that.

“And what makes you say that?”

“Because I’m not the hero.”

There was a long silence as he just sat there, staring at me with wide eyes and a disbelieving stare.

“But... but you’ve fought monsters, and evil deities....”

“Their minions, mostly, but yes.”

“You’ve christened all of the mightiest heroes.”

“After they passed their tests, yes.”

“You’ve served Fate for...” he paused, as if he was searching his memory for the number, “a... a really long time.”

“Doesn’t make me the hero, just makes me a guardian.”

He gave me that kicked puppy stare.

“How can you not be?”

“No one praises a guard dog for doing it’s job, and that’s basically what I am. I’m just doing what the oath compels me to. Nothing more, nothing less. I save no one, I really don’t help anyone, either. I’m just here, running at the end of my leash, growling and snarling at all whom aren’t my master.”

“Oh... is that why you were an ass when we met?”

I glared at him.

“No, that was because someone who couldn’t even beat Squishy thought he could just show up and have a legendary weapon of unfathomable power.”

He winced and then tilted his head.

“Wait... Squishy?”

“The slime, it’s name is Squishy. I gave it to it when it first decided to make it’s home in the box.”

The color drained from his face.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kill your pet!”

I nearly fell over laughing, which stopped the sputtered stream of apologies and something about a funeral.

“No, no, no, you didn’t kill Squishy. Fate granted Squishy special... abilities, as a reward for my service. He does something... kinda nice once every hundred years or so for me.”

He stared at me.

“So... it wasn’t a normal slime?”

“It is in all things except it’s immortality.”

“Oh... Damn, I was hoping it was a super slime.”

I laughed again.

And so the routine continued. He’d survive in the wilds for a few days before coming to visit for a few hours, sometimes mimicking my movements when conversations and laughter were over. Then, he’d vanish again. That is, until I got a terrible feeling.

A flock of birds scattered far to the south, the way towards the lake, and a pit formed in my stomach. That dumbass wouldn’t... would he? I thought about it for a minute before recalling his previous encounters and grimacing. He would. He most certainly would.

For the first time in many years, I left the stoned area, rushing down a distantly familiar trail towards the lake. Screeches and deep roars pushed me to move faster and faster, until I stumbled into a clearing, just in time to see him fall. Behind him was a water dragon. Thankfully, a young one. It looked hurt, but not nearly as much as he did, and it looked much angrier than him as well.

Before I could even put any thought into it, my body was in between the two, and the creature was bearing down on me.

“No! Guardian!”

The shouted barely registered in my mind as I ducked out of the way of raking claws and rolled to the underbelly. My blade sought out the grooves between the stomach plates and dug in as far as it could, biting at flesh and tearing at muscle. The dragon screeched loud enough to nearly deafen me. All I could hear was a ringing in my ears. It could have been disorienting had I not fought under such conditions a hundred or more times before.

I cut again, my own fierce shouts a distant echo in my ears. Again and again I sliced, moving with the beast to keep myself from being trampled or squished. The deadly dance did not end until the creature was on the ground, breathing it’s last.

With a dull click, I slid the sword into it’s sheath and moved towards him. He stared back at me through big, brown eyes. Without warning, I pulled him back up to his feet.

“I told you.” I sighed as she shifted his arm around my shoulders to support him. “I told you.”

“Hey, can you not yell at me when I’m actively in pain?” He whimpered when the movement irritated his probably cracked ribs.

“No! You were a stupid shit and I’m going to tell that directly to your fucking face! Why do you do these things?!”

“To impress you.”

“You know what would impress me at this point?! You staying out of danger for twenty-four hours! No barbed-tail cats, no slimes, no DRAGONS, just a day without bruises.”

He smirked at me.

“Is that what it’d take to become a man of consequence?”

I smacked him upside the head.

“No, but it’ll help keep you alive long enough to become one. Seriously, recklessness won’t help anyone. Think of the people. They’re waiting on you to save them. You can’t do that if you’re dead.”

“But... I can’t just hide and hope it goes away, either.”

“No, you can’t, but you can learn to pick battles you can win.”

He went silent for a while.

“Do... do you think the fight with the wizard is a battle I can win?”

I thought about it for the rest of the way back to the stones. He sighed just before we got there.

“No, huh? I guess you’re right....”

“You can.”

His head snapped around to look at me.

“And once you’re healed up, I’ll show you how.”

“But I... I thought you weren’t allowed too....”

“Teach about the animals of this forest, he didn’t say shit about teaching people how to kick evil wizards’ wrinkly asses.”

I grinned at him, and he smiled back before laughing.

Using my sisters’ medicines, I was able to get him back to training shape fairly quickly. Thankfully, his ribs weren’t broken, or I may have gotten a different hero. We spent the next few weeks training, with me imparting as much of my years of experience as I could in so little time. And before I knew it, the time had come for his final test.

“Alright, and now you’re ready to try again.”

He grinned at me.

“I’m ready for it. What’s my final test? Squishy? A dragon?”

“Me.”

His face fell at that.

“You? But... I don’t want to fight you.”

I shrugged.

“That’s the rule.”

“But... you’re my friend. I won’t hurt you.”

I snorted.

“You can’t hurt me, I’m immortal.”

He frowned.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t feel pain.”

“Are you going to give up after I actually went to the trouble of saving and training you for the sake of accomplishing your goal?”

“Well... no, but....”

“Then fight. You don’t have to hurt me, just defeat me.”

He glanced around before looking back at me. Eventually, he drew the old sword.

“Okay... but only because I don’t want to waste your effort.”

I grinned at him as I drew my own blade.

“Good.”

There was a pause, a moment of silence, and then we both burst into action. It was insane how fast he had improved. No other chosen one had learned so fast. Then again, I had never taken any effort to help any of them, nor had they shown an interest in mimicking my own training. Or maybe, maybe this was what Fate saw in him.

The clashing of steel rung out through the trees as our feet flew across the ancient stonework. Light flashed off the edges of our swords. Time and time again, the tips of sharpened blades teased at biting into flesh, but always stopped a little short. That is, until there was a horrible snapping sounds, and then the clattering of steel against stone.

We both stared at the broken sword, laying on the stones, and then we looked at each other.

“I... I guess I failed?” he said, voice on the verge of cracking.

I grinned at him.

“You’re kidding, right? Do you know how much it takes to break a sword? And what it takes not to be crushed beneath my heel like an ant?”

There was a moment of silence before his eyes lit up with realization.

“You mean...?”

“Congratulations, hero.”

He let out a shout before throwing his arms around me in the biggest hug I had ever gotten. I laughed.

“Little early to be so excited, yeah? You haven’t even replaced your old sword yet.”

“Who cares about the weapon! You called me a hero! The guardian thinks I’m a hero!”

He laughed before finally releasing me, a huge smile on his face.

I shook my head before leading him back to the lake.

“Uh... guardian?”

“Don’t worry, they won’t come.”

“But...”

“Just take this.”

I held out a sword hilt to him.

He titled his head, but accepted it.

“So... what do I do with this?”

“You place the handle in the water. When you withdraw it, picture the weapon you want to hold in your hand. The lake will forge it for you.”

He paused before doing so. The familiar magic caused the water to glow and bubble, and before long, he was pulling out the most beautiful blade I had ever seen in my life.

“Good luck breaking that one,’ I teased.

He snorted.

“Tell that to the wizard.”

He paused before shuffling a bit. “Um... thank you, for everything....”

“You can thank me by kicking that wizard’s ass using the techniques I showed you.”

He grinned at me.

“Will do.” There was another pause before he gave me a nod and started walking back up the path. He paused by the trees and looked back at me. “I’ll visit again. Wouldn’t want the guardian to get bored.”

I laughed.

“It’s the heroes who aren’t supposed to get bored here.”

He smiled at me and then disappeared.

For several years, it was just me and the forest, as it usually was. Still, I couldn’t help but feel a bit hollow. The same as it ever was, but I found myself wanting more again. Laughter and joy. It had been so long since I had them, I didn’t know I missed them until he was gone. My first friend in gods only know how many years, and he was gone. Stupid Fate, fucking destinies.

I was grumbling to myself, violently going through my daily routine when a voice called out to me.

“Uh-oh, don’t tell me that another chosen one is giving you trouble.”

I spun around so fast I nearly feel over.

“You’re back! ... And you have flowers?”

“For you! It’s the fifth year anniversary of when I met you and was attacked by Squishy, so, I thought I’d bring you a present.”

He held the bouquet out to me, that grin on his face.

“No ones ever brought me flowers before….”

“Do you not like them?”

“….I love them, thank you.” I accepted the flowers from him. “But, I don’t have a present for you....”

“That’s fine,” he said with an easy smile and a shrug. “Actually, I was hoping to see the super slime again.”

I grinned mischeviously.

“Sure.”

I undid the latch on the box and watched Squishy fly out and onto his face, knocking him to the ground. He swore and floundered around on the stones, shouting about the worst hug ever. I couldn’t stop myself from laughing if I wanted to. Even after he got my dear friend off, I was still giggling.

He grinned up at me, hair a mess and armor well-slimed.

“I missed hearing your laugh.”

“Yeah, well, I missed having something to laugh about.’

#short story #fiction #fantasy #adventure #original story #my writing #a story by Ren

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always5hineee · 5 years ago

Text

The Final Bell - Chapter 3: Baby Doll

Chapter warnings: none

Word count: 1840

Story is also available under Taffysamg on Quotev and Wattpad.

To see the full chapter list, go to the “Final Bell” Tab on my page.

-----

Y/N stared out the window, unsettled by what she saw. Everything was dry and windy, and the air was heavy. While she knew pollution must be down, everything had that solid tension about it. Taeyong and Taeil were making small talk, but she wasn't particularly listening. Every now and then, they'd pass an abandoned vehicle or a pile of trash, but aside from that she noticed no signs of life. While she was lost in thought, she was brought to attention by a voice.

"...Y/N!" She sat up quickly, looking around. Taeyong was staring at her intently.

"Sorry, I was... thinking."

"It's fine- I was just trying to let you know that we're here." He said, pointing towards the windshield. Sure enough, there was a small campsite in front of them as they slowed to a stop. There were two tents, a few boxes, a small grill, and a black Toyota Tundra. She was nervous to meet this character, but didn't want to show it in front of her two associates. Stepping out of the van, they walked into the center of the space.

"Hold on." Taeil said to her, moving to the tent on the right. Stomping in the dirt next to the structure, he said, "Johnny! We're here." After a bit of rustling, the front unzipped, and a man stepped out.

He was certainly taller than anyone she had met so far- six feet if she had to guess. He had defined features and faded red hair, although- like Taeil- it was evidently not his real hair color. He was definitely thin, but stronger than Taeyong and Taeil. He wore a pair of old jeans, a green shirt, and a leather vest, with combat boots to match. Out of all of this, though, one thing in particular caught her off guard.

His left arm- or rather, where his left arm should have been- there was a purple, twitching appendage, sewed on with black surgical stitches. While it's nails were clean and the flesh seemed to be staying on fairly well, it was unmistakable: a zombie arm.

She involuntarily stepped back, but before she could move away, he grabbed her wrists, holding her arms above her head and turning her in various directions.

"Hmm, interesting." He eyed her up and down, mentally measuring her. "I'm sure I can find something that fits you." Uncomfortable, she jerked her arms, ripping them away from his grip. He looked surprised for a moment, before his face settled into a questioning grin.

"What's the matter? Can't you talk?" She tried to say something in return, but only managed to open her mouth slightly. Staring at her for another moment, his expression shifted to understanding.

"Ah, I see. You think I'm turning." He waved his purple arm. "I assure you, sweetheart, you have nothing to worry about." Pointing to the stitching with his good hand, he said, "This isn't my real arm. I made her myself. The wound is closed underneath, so quit your shaking." Well if that wasn't the riskiest thing she'd ever seen, she didn't know what was.

"What happened to your real arm?" She managed to mutter. He laughed, reaching up to touch her face with his left hand. The skin was disgustingly cold, leaving a tingling feeling wherever it touched. She knew it was probably in her head, but she already felt infected as he felt her face.

"I cut it off." He whispered playfully. Backing up and spinning on his heel, he pretended as if he had not just been incredibly creepy. "Keeps you on your toes, you know? Reminds you how fleeting this all is. It does have a mind of its own, though." He admitted, evidenced by its twitching. She was more than uncomfortable at this point, staring at the seam between his human and undead bodies. So he had... cut off his own arm, and sewed on this zombie one, for fun? Or as he called it, a 'reminder'. This dude was unhinged.

"Quit messing around, Johnny." Taeyong said, stepping in and pulling her back. Thankfully, his hands were warm, and undoubtedly human. "We just need new clothes for her, all our stuff at camp doesn't fit well."

"Yes, yes, I know. Like I said, I'm sure I have a few things her size. So demanding. You won't be leader for long if you act like that."

"I'm not the leader." Taeyong muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and shifting his glare."

"Sure. Anyway, I'll return momentarily. Feel free to look around." He offered, turning to Y/N. "You can go wherever, but just be prepared for what you find." With a wink that sent a shiver up her spine, he moved towards the back of the setup to open a box.

"Don't mind him." Taeil said, sensing her discomfort. "He's just strange like that. Plus, he's probably upset that we didn't bring Mark." She had practically forgotten about Mark at this point- she hadn't seen him since they exited the van the first time. Assumedly, he had gone to his own tent.

"Why would he care?" She asked. "Are they related, or friends, or something?" Taeil shook his head.

"Not exactly. Mark's just his favorite for some reason. He's never explained it to us. Still, Taeyong doesn't like them to be together for too long. I think he's worried that Johnny will make too much of an impression." That made sense. Mark seemed like a nice dude, and she couldn't imagine what Johnny could do if he got a complete hold on him. Before Taeyong could cut in to explain further, Johnny returned.

"Here, I found four complete outfits of your size. It's not exactly ideal, but it's all that'll fit. I guess you guys will just start doing laundry more often, or suffer with ill-fitting attire. There are also two pairs of shoes, some makeup if you're into that, and some sanitary stuff." Holding out a bag, she reluctantly took it. As much as she hated it, it was all stuff she needed. "I also threw a few sets of earrings in there. Wouldn't want your piercings to close up."

She breathed in sharply. In the few seconds that he had looked at her, he not only assessed her exact sizes, but the fact that she had piercings as well? Not only that, but she didn't actually have jewelry in at the moment, meaning that he had noticed the tiny holes. He was unnervingly observant, to say the least.

"Do you need any earrings, boys? You've both had those studs in for quite a while."

"We're fine." Taeil said shortly. Johnny sighed, almost like an annoyed child.

"Shame. You two are so boring. Still, that reminds me-" He addressed Y/N directly again. "I can do pretty much any tattoo or piercing you might want, just let me know." Scrunching her gaze, she questioned,

"Can you do a clean tattoo without proper equipment?" Johnny feigned offense.

"My, do you have no faith? I happen to have done plenty of tattoos post-disaster. In fact, I've done more than a few for your friends over there. Speaking of which-" he walked over to drape his arms across the boys' shoulders. "Is she planning on matching you all?"

"Matching?" She asked. Clearly without asking them first, Johnny grabbed both their shirts. Pulling up Taeyong's sleeve and the bottom hem of Taeil's shirt, he revealed very similar tattoos. Each was in a delicate script, a list of some kind. Looking closer, she read them.

Taeyong

Jaehyun

Yuta

WinWin

Haechan

Mark

Doyoung

Taeil

Jungwoo

Johnny

The final two names were slightly brighter, alluding to the fact that they had been added later. The line through WinWin's name was also a bright shade.

"Do all of you have these?" She asked, eliciting a nod from both of them.

"We debated on the line, but decided that it would be appropriate. We'll be using it if, god forbid, anything happens to anyone else. Johnny added himself when we went to get Jungwoo added." Taeyong shot an annoyed look at him. "Still, he helps us out, so I have no right to complain."

"So, will you be adding this lovely lady to your ranks?" Johnny asked, dropping their clothing from his fists.

"I'd have to talk to everyone, but maybe if she sticks around." He glanced over. "Have you gotten a tattoo since all this started?" He asked. She shook her head. She was already dreading the idea of having Johnny's dead hand anywhere near her, not to mention a discomfort around needles. She would definitely have to think about it.

"Well, I'm always ready to ink someone up." He concluded, gesturing to Taeil again. "I've done more than a few of his little art pieces." She had to admit, the tattoos covering his body were very skillful. Everything fell silent for a moment, but she was brought to attention by the clap of a hand.

"So! To discuss my payment." Johnny smiled, causing her stomach to drop.

"Payment?" Of course. No one gives anyone anything for free. What kind of payment did a psycho like this take?

"Yes, honey, payment. I have to survive out here! Generally one earns something through the exchange of goods-" He snaked a hand around her waist, causing her to shiver again. "And/or services."

"You owe us, Johnny." Taeyong said matter-of-factly, gently brushing him off and dragging Y/N back to where he was standing. "We saved your ass when you were clean out of food and three seconds off from getting eaten alive." He put a hand to his chin thoughtfully.

"Oh, so you're cashing in for the little lady? He must really like you." He said with a shrug. "That's a shame, baby doll, but you'll be back. I look forward to it- you're intriguing." Leading her away from Johnny's camp, Taeil and Taeyong brought her to the van, facing away from the man. Still, he called,

"Nice meeting you, sweetheart!"

"Her name is Y/N." Taeyong shot back. "Have some decency." And with that, they got in and began their drive back home. She watched out the back window as Johnny simply stood, staring as they drove into the distance. He stood stone still until Y/N could no longer make out his figure.

"I'm sorry if that was strange." Taeyong murmured apologetically. "I know he's not... ideal. Still, he generally has anything we might need, and honestly I don't know if we'd have made it without him. I would have talked to him myself, but he needed your size." She shook her head, trying to seem unfazed.

"It's fine."

"You'll only have to go again if you need a tattoo or something, other than that you can stay behind if you'd like." She nodded. She didn't really feel like talking anymore, and both the boys respected that. They had maybe an hour left on their three hour prognosis, so things would be busy when they returned. She wondered if she could find some monotonous task to help with to take her mind off the afternoon's events.

Go to Chapter 4

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loyalflutist · 5 years ago

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Just a Dream - Part 1 (F!Byleth x Edelgard)

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Major Character Death Words: 2,173 Summary: The war is finally over and it was the Adrestian Empire's win. Most everyone moved onward from the conflict at their own pace. For Edelgard, she has a surprise coming from Byleth one night.

A/N: Obviously due to Tumblr’s layout, I doubt I can leave my author’s note to the bottom like I intend to. Oh well. This is a fun side project I was working on! The second half should be out next week or so... depending on how my school load is going and, god forbid, if my PI isn’t a jerk. Hope you enjoy this! I enjoyed writing this fluffy piece, heh.

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The atrocious conflict that lasted for more than five years came to a roaring conclusion.

What should have been a magnificent creature in legends stayed as a legend, its real counterpart far crueler than any villain in history. Two brave leaders swung their relics at the formidable white dragon. In one strike, the beast pierced the fiery battlefield with its shriek. An axe and a sword plunged its sharp edges into its thick scales. Bloodied, battered, and bruised, the large monster wildly tossed its head left and right. Another inhumane squeal tore from its elongated throat as it dug its massive claws on the cracked pavement.

Byleth and Edelgard plopped back on the ground simultaneously. Sweat gleamed on their foreheads, their breaths bated, and eyes trained on the foul beast. Their weapons were deeply ensnared in its moist flesh. No matter how much the dragon shook, it won’t remove the powerful blades. Amidst the flames in the background, their surviving comrades and troops watched in awe.

“It’s… finally over,” the emperor breathed. “We won.”

Just as she uttered that confident statement, the white dragon collapsed to the side, its jaw jutted open. Black blood pooled underneath its large head as its last light flickered out. Everyone kept their limbs locked in place, their respiratory system temporarily paused. Byleth and Edelgard eventually straightened their posture. Although they were out of breath, they exchanged glances. Then, a worn smile broke out from their face.

“Thank you… Byleth.”

This war’s victor was none other than the Adrestian Empire.

Peace draped over the united land after five, long miserable years. Although there were plenty of sacrifices and regrets from Byleth and Edelgard, they marched forward with their heads held up high. After all, the emperor must reign over their new country and people with persistence and conviction. It was a worthy offering for the next chapter in Fodlan.

As for the leaders of the Black Eagle Strike Squad? Many of their comrades retired from the battlefield. Some of their comrades worked under or alongside with Edelgard.

Petra returned to Brigid with the songstress shortly after the final battle to build a diplomatic relationship between the two nation. Eventual news about a new theatrical show in Brigid starring none other than Dorothea spread across the sea. Its popularity skyrocketed as many nobles desperately scrambled onto the next boat to catch a glimpse of the beautiful opera singer. Lest to say, many were disappointed to hear that she was already taken. The Brigid queen made sure to make it clear.

Linhardt resumed his activity as a researcher, eager to chew on anything that perks his interest. Whenever Edelgard and Hubert visited the man’s estate, he would greet them with a piece of toast, their much-need answers, and a slam of a door. Hark, it was not from malice! Disturbance of a slumbering prince would present a predictable reaction. This led to a small stack of apologetic, handwritten letters from the green-haired to the emperor.

Bernadetta slithered back to her life as a noble— Well, it would have been more peaceful had it not been for Caspar. That young man made sure to take her out every month to sightsee a new scenery during his service with Edelgard. Safe to say, Bernadetta both did and did not appreciate his way of carrying her high up the mountains or through the fields in plain view. (How embarrassing!) Their laughter could be heard from miles away as the couple bloomed in the vast, green field.

Ferdinand and Hubert continue to maintain a close relationship with their new emperor’s activity at the castle. Of course, many of the guards and Byleth would spot them sharing a moment of tranquility over tea with each other. Suffice to say, they knew how to take care of each other in ways not even Edelgard knows.

Shamir and Catherine broke off from the group and traveled the country. No one knew where they were. The only clues they’ve left behind were the occasional, unaddressed letters delivered to Byleth at the castle. That didn’t include the rumors of famous fight scenes that broke out throughout Fodlan. (It appears they were mostly self-initiated by the troublesome duo.)

Overall, the turbulent times simmered down to a lazily, wafting steam. Those Who Slither in the Dark were still a danger to society, but Edelgard, Byleth, Caspar, Ferdinand, and Hubert were on top of their game. It was a lengthy session of chess, but so far, they’re nearing the endgame. Hubert, Ferdinand, and Byleth approximated about five more years until this evil is squashed for good. Five more years until Edelgard can retire.

“Edelgard?”

At the emperor’s patio of her grand bedroom late at night, the woman in bright red glanced over her shoulder. Edelgard released her hold on the concrete railings and approached the older female. The moon’s soft rays of light lit Byleth’s entrance into her vision. Her ex-professor had both hands behind her back, her hues sparkled like the stars. It would almost seem out of character had they not been dating!

Edelgard tried to resist an amusing chuckle as Byleth slowed her steps.

“Professor, what brings you here?”

Both females stood in front of each other. The close approximation allowed their breaths to tickle each other. They shyly giggled. Byleth soon leaned down to plant her lips on the shorter’s forehead. Pleasant warmth grew in the noble’s chest as she rested her hand on the other’s chest. She lowered her head and felt the corner of her lips curve upward.

“Okay, Byleth, what is it that you have to tell me?”

“You’re always straight to the point.”

“That’s just who I am.”

“Well… I have a surprise for you.”

Byleth began to back away from the emperor. The ex-mercenary got down on one knee. Her hands that were once behind her back were brought forward. There was a small object pinched between her thumb and index. It was a silver ring ornamented with bits of fine gemstones and diamonds; a precious gift that her father, Jeralt, had once given to her mother. He bestowed it upon his daughter before the incident that transpires afterward.

“Will you marry me, El?”

Her cheeks flushed. Those were the words Edelgard would never expect to hear from anyone in her life. Commitment to ending the Hresvelg line and isolating herself from politics once her duties were complete was all that filled her mind. She and Byleth had fallen in love, but they never exchanged anything more than a simple peck or tender embrace. Honestly, Edelgard held low expectations for their relationship to deepen. The fact that her partner in battle would become her lifelong partner increased her heartbeat’s pace.

' Is this a dream? It's too good to be true! '

The noble’s violet hues searched for an object other than Byleth to fixate. Happiness was an understatement. It was a complete understatement. No terminology in any living dictionary would be able to describe the euphoric sensation that threatens to burst from the seam of her epidermis. She failed to completely remove her gaze from Byleth as her reply tumbled out of her mouth like a rockslide.

“I— Wow, yes… Yes!” She finally diverted her attention back to the teal-haired. Hidden ears as rosy as her cheeks, she grinned from ear to ear. “Yes, I want to marry you, Byleth!”

No time was wasted in slipping the ring onto Edelgard’s finger. She cautiously removed the armored glove. Scars and permanent engravings from her surgical procedures were exposed to the open air. A shudder ran down Edelgard’s spine; she had to resist the temptation to rip her hand away. Besides, when her tactician inserted the precious band, all forms of negativity eroded away in a flash. The ring’s surface glimmered in the moonlight as Byleth brought her lips on her soon-to-be-official-wife’s knuckles. The sensitive flesh brushed upon the marked hand.

“We’ll always be together in spirit.”

“Just in spirit, though?”

Edelgard chuckled as her professor rose from the crouch. Hands now holding each other, they exchanged a kiss. At her lips’ touch, the vermillion girl blossomed like a flower. Sweet nectar dripped from her lover’s whispers as they went in for a second round. They repeatedly kissed, the one after another becoming briefer and more playful. Their eyes were closed as giggles emitted from their direction. From a distant, it would be to no one’s surprise if literal heart shapes sprouted from the couple.

“Once we finish ridding Those Who Slither in the Darkness, we shall find an appropriate person fit for the throne.”

“Mm… Five years is long, isn’t it?”

“We cannot help it. We have to stay focused on our goals.”

“It would be nice if five years were to hurry, don’t you think?”

“I agree.”

Edelgard placed a hand on her hip once their hold broke away. She looked downward, the smile lingering.

“Still, I have you by my side. To think that I would be walking down this path on my own… I was mistaken. I wouldn’t know what to do if you weren’t with me.”

“You should learn how to be independent without me, El.”

“Oh, hush! I doubt that would ever happen now that we’ve promised to be with each other.”

“…in spirit.”

“Why do you keep saying that? I hope you are misunderstanding the original phrase—”

A faint, but warm, yellow light glowed on Edelgard’s face. Stars. Tiny, little stars twinkled before the shorter female.

“?”

Particles of light began to grow brighter around the emperor. Edelgard raised her head; her violet eyes widen at the newfound sight.

“Byleth…?”

The older woman tilted her head, eyelids closed and smiled. Those particles grew in its number as Byleth became transparent. Their gentle nature floated near her face, almost as if they tried to hug her. Alas, these creations were not permanent. They were meant to fade away into nothingness… just like her Byleth.

“Byleth!”

She reached out towards her lover with the same hand that received the ring.

That was right… How could she have forgotten?

During the final battle, the two emerged victoriously… but at a heavy cost. Byleth had collapsed after the dragon’s death. Edelgard immediately dashed to her girlfriend; she ignored the throbbing aches from her bruises and stings from her cuts. The noble flipped over the instructor. A quick examination told her of the bad news. Confirmation was needed, and it was a confirmation Edelgard wished she had never done.

Byleth’s heart stopped beating. No matter how many times she pressed her ear against her chest, pressed her fingers upon her wrist, and shook the older woman, Byleth would not crack open her eyelids. Not a single peep came out of her mouth.

Did she die peacefully?

She didn’t know. She won’t know. She will never know.

“Are you leaving me again?”

Tears stained Edelgard’s cheeks as she witnessed her professor nod at her direction.

“This is farewell.”

Farewell? There was no need for farewell when the noble glanced down at her hand again. The ring… it was still there. Yes! It was still there! That same ring that she had slipped onto her ring finger! It… No— it has always been there. Byleth had given it to her and proclaimed her proposal right before the final mission. It was the last gift her girlfriend— her wife had given to her before the untimely demise.

She felt her throat become dry and lips tremble. Edelgard grabbed at the bright lights that encompassed her significant other. They went through her fingers. But she repeated her actions. It became frantic and wild as dizziness seeped into her skull. The tears continued to pour from her lacrimal glands as Edelgard shook her head with slanted eyes.

“No… NO!”

This isn’t right!

“Don’t you dare—!”

Her heart squeezed until it physically caused pain. Streams flowed down her face as her fingers curled inward at the golden clumps. Another outcry burst in-between her sharp exhales.

“I’ve already lost you once!”

No no no no no—!!!

Why can’t she grab her?!

Why?!

WHY?!

WHY IS THIS HAPPENING?!

“Don’t leave me again!” she wailed at the disappearing woman. “Please! I don’t know what to do anymore!”

Byleth reached her illuminated hand out. Though contact was not felt, she began to smooth the crying noble’s head. Particles from her legs began to dim as she tilted her head. Despite the anguish from her lover, she still smiles. How could she still smile…? No, that smile was only because she was an illusion. Edelgard’s blurred vision deluded her of a Byleth she finds solace in. Her lips trembled violently as another choking sob blubbered out of her.

Her professor, her friend, her lover, her only one closed her eyelids.

“Open your eyes, my dear Edelgard. This was only just a dream.”

This delusion has to end… and the first step to it is acceptance. As Byleth vanished, Edelgard crumpled to her knees. She cried hard into her hands, her weeping echoed into the lonesome night.

#loyalflutist #one shot #os #fan fiction #fan fic #edeleth #edelgard #edelgard von hresvelg #byleth #f!byleth #f!byleth x edelgard #just going to grab some armor just in case #fire emblem #fire emblem three houses

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hunnywrites · 5 years ago

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Arcade Dreams: Chapter Sixteen

Summary: There’s a new girl working at the Palace Arcade and Hawkins’ Family Video. Billy can’t stand her, and the feeling is mutual. No matter what everyone else seems to think.

Pairing: Billy Hargrove/OFC

A/N: We’re gonna see good ol’ Brian Jean in this chapter! Here’s a bit of fun fluff because the next chapter is gonna be rough :)

Working at the Hawkins public pool really wasn’t that bad of a job. It was at this awkward point in time between Christmas break and the weather finally becoming warm, so there really weren’t too many people around aside from the occasional swim class. Teddi had been able to take on her own class finally. Every Saturday morning she taught a group of five year olds the basics, albeit not with the same instant success as Billy.

Her class had ended about half an hour before. A few of the kids were still splashing around in the shallow end while they waited for their parents to pick them up, and Teddi was perched up in the lifeguard’s chair waiting for her shift to come to an end. Then she could swing by her house and change, rent some movies from the video store and head over to Billy’s to help him with Max’s sleepover. All in all a pretty laid back day.

She noticed Brian Jean walking in. She ignored him. He was just there to pick up his brother, and he’d be out of her hair once again. Teddi didn’t feel any real resentment towards Brian. She hadn’t even wanted to go on that date in the first place. If anything she was more annoyed with Cheryl for ditching Billy to screw around with Brian. She didn’t really like Brian though. It was easy to see now that his whole nice guy act was just that: an act.

Teddi supposed Billy was a bit guilty of the same thing. He’d put on the charm whenever a cute girl was around. But the way Brian did it was a bit more...sinister somehow. Billy wasn’t really as unassuming as Brian was. Or maybe she was just mad that she hadn’t been able to see through it herself. She didn’t know. Billy was more upset than she had been about the whole thing. Once they got back to school Billy was nearly constantly trying to pick at Brian to get on his last nerve.

“I’m supposed to let him fuck with you and get away with it?” he had asked. “It’ll be fine, Ted. He’s a soccer player. I’m not afraid of him.” but it was more than that. Teddi didn’t want to Billy to solve all his (or her) problems with his fists. If he’d gotten in trouble for fighting it would’ve been a lot more than just being sent to detention where he could sneak out and no one would be any the wiser. He’d get suspended. And that would mean Neil finding out. And Teddi was not gonna be responsible for Billy having to deal with Neil over something so pointless.

Eventually he let it go after she had to actually forbid him from doing anything. Of course not after he keyed Brian’s car while they were in the parking lot after school waiting for Max. While Teddi definitely didn’t approve of it, she had to admit it had been pretty funny.

Unfortunately Brian still seemed pretty interested in her regardless of her attempts to ignore him. He was honestly starting to make her feel a little uneasy. He was just sitting there on the bleachers looking at her. God, just take your brother and go, freak, she thought. Teddi turned slightly in her seat in an attempt to get rid of the creepy feeling she had. She could maybe call Freddy over and tell him what had happened. He’d definitely kick Brian out. But that seemed so silly. She would just ignore him.

She let out a loud sigh of relief when she saw Katie headed her way. “Happy to see me?” she asked Teddi with a laugh.

Teddi climbed down from her chair. “You have no idea. I gotta get outta here. I’ll see ya later, Katie!” she threw a wave over her shoulder and nearly bolted for the locker room. She made quick work of changing. She could grab a quick shower at home. Whatever it took to make sure she could get out before Brian could corner her again.

Unfortunately that plan didn’t work out. “Uh, hey Teddi…” Teddi rolled her eyes, but didn’t stop as she walked past Brian. He followed after her. “C’mon, Teddi. Can I just talk to you for a second?” he asked.

“Fuck off, Brian.”

“I’m sorry about the party, okay? I was a dick. Can’t you give me another chance? Maybe we can get together for Valentine’s Day or something.” he offered.

Teddi stopped and turned towards Brian before she let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know this might be hard for your tiny brain to process, but I’m not interested. I was never interested. I was just being nice. And you rewarded me by screwing my friend’s date and abandoning me. So, no. I don’t want to do anything for Valentine’s Day. I don’t want anything to do with you at all. So leave. Me. Alone.”

When Teddi said that Brian was dumb, she meant it. He was clearly incapable of reading very obvious signs. As Teddi turned once again to leave, Brian grabbed her by the arm. “I’m not done talking to you!” He pleaded.

Teddi wasn’t a violent person. She really wasn’t. She’d told Billy time and time again that violence wasn’t the answer. If anything this was her father’s fault. Brian grabbing her arm with the amount of force that he had sent a jolt of fear through her. It triggered her fight or flight senses immediately. But Brian wasn’t her father. She could fight back. So Teddi whirled around and sent her fist flying upwards towards Brian’s nose with as much force as she could manage. There was a sickeningly satisfying crack.

Brian let out a yowl and his hands flew up to his nose. “You bitch! You broke my nose!”

Teddi couldn’t help but let out a laugh. She pressed her lips together and covered her mouth to keep herself quiet. “I told you to leave me alone.” she said with a shrug and a smile. She didn’t care that everyone at the pool had seen. He deserved it. A few of the moms were watching in shock as Brian dabbed at his bloody nose, groaning and moaning to himself. Katie was stifling her laughter up on her chair and Freddy was at a loss of what to do. Teddi took that as her sign to leave.

She held her composure until she was safely in her van. “Jesus Christ.” she muttered, shaking her fist rapidly to try and get ring of the stinging feeling in her knuckles. The skin was red and irritated and she was sure that it would probably bruise. As bad as she may have felt for hitting Brian, she couldn’t lie and say it hadn’t felt a little nice. It would definitely get him off of her back from now on.

She just had to hope that she wouldn’t lose her job over it.

---

“Max, do you have to listen to that shit so loud?” Billy asked, shoving her bedroom door open. Neil and Susan had left about an hour before. Now Max and El were jumping on her bed, hair brushes in hand as they sang along to Total Eclipse of the Heart. He wanted to blow his brains out.

The pair stopped jumping almost simultaneously and looked at him. “What’s wrong with Bonnie Tyler?” Max asked.

El grinned. “Probably reminds him of Teddi.” she teased, her and Max falling into a fit of laughter.

Billy let out a groan. “Just turn it off. Or I’ll turn it off.” he warned, turning and stomping back down the hall towards the living room. The stereo shut off and the sounds of the two giggling girls quickly following after him filled the house.

“When’s she coming over anyways?” Max asked. “Did she get the movies? Did she say what she got? Is this like a date or something? We can go hang out in my room if it is.”

Billy ran a frustrated hand over his face. He didn’t think there was anything in the world more annoying than teenage girls. “I don’t know, Max. She just said that she’d be here after work. And it’s not a date. Can you two shut up with that already?” the two looked at each other and giggled almost as if they had shared some joke telepathically.

It was starting to get dark out. Teddi probably should’ve been there a few hours ago. He figured that it probably had something to do with what happened at the pool. Freddy had called him a little earlier to tell him. “Dude, you will not believe what happened. Teddi totally decked Brian Jean!”

Billy had only felt proud for someone that wasn’t himself twice in his life. The first was Max. He worked hard to make sure Max had a thick skin.That she wouldn’t take shit from anyone. And sometimes he thought it could be a little too thick. But that night at the Byers’ after he’d woken up back at home with bits and pieces of the night’s events coming back to him he could help but feel a little proud of the way she had stood up to him to protect her friends. He could have gone without her threatening to turn his dick into mush, but he was still proud.

He was definitely proud of Teddi. She was always so passive when it came to...well, anyone that wasn’t him. Always avoiding confrontation. And he understood it. It was an easier route to take at home. But when Freddy called him to say that Teddi had broken Brian’s nose he felt a huge wave of pride.

The doorbell rang, and Max jumped up to answer the door. Teddi was finally here. She had bags from Melvald’s and Hawkins Family Video hanging on her arm and she was balancing three pizza boxes in her hands. “Hey, Maxamillion! The party’s here!” Billy got up to help her with the pizzas as she handed the bags to Max. “There’s our movies and some candy. Mrs. Byers told me to tell you guys she said hi.”

Max and El both made quick work of dumping the bag of candy onto the floor in front of the tv as Billy and Teddi went into the kitchen. “So,” Billy began with a smirk. “How was work?”

Teddi froze for a brief moment. “...It was fine.” she said with a shrug.

Billy set the pizzas on the counter, leaning against it and grinning over at her. “Really? Nothing interesting happened?”

Teddi’s eyes narrowed and she crossed her arms. “...What do you know?”

“Everything. Freddy called me about twenty minutes ago,” Teddi groaned. “Is that why you wanted me to stay away from Brian? You wanted to handle it yourself?” he asked in a teasing tone.

“No,” Teddi sighed. Billy watched as she fidgeted nervously in front of him. “I was just gonna ignore him, but then he grabbed me and...I don’t know. I think I might be wound a little tighter than I’ve realized.”

Billy held his hands up. “Wait, wait. He grabbed you? What do you mean he grabbed you?” the next time Billy saw Brian he’d have a hell of a lot more than a broken nose.

“I thought Freddy told you everything?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Apparently not. Why the hell would he grab you?”

Teddi let out another loud sigh and hopped up onto the counter. Her legs swung back and forth slowly as she picked at the hole in the knee of her jeans. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. He kept trying to ask me out so he could make up for the party. Something about Valentine’s Day,” Billy let out a snort and rolled his eyes. “But I told him I didn’t want to and he wasn’t taking fuck off for an answer…” she covered her face with her hands and let out a loud groan. “I just wish I hadn’t decked him in front of everyone.”

Billy scoffed. “I wish you had done a lot more than that. Too bad I wasn’t there to see it, though. I bet it was pretty hot.” he smirked.

Teddi bit down on her lip to keep herself from smiling. “You’re a bad influence, Hargrove.”

“You know it, Baby.” he grinned.

Teddi’s cheeks flushed a little before she hopped down from the counter and walked over to the pizzas. “I’m starving. I got a cheese for the girls and I got us two pepperonis since you put away food like a bottomless pit.” she teased.

Billy held up an arm, flexing and patting his bicep. He relished the way Teddi’s blush grew deeper. “Gotta feed the machine.”

She laughed. “The machine? Do you ever hear yourself? Oh, who am I kidding? I bet you love to hear yourself talk.” she giggled, sticking her tongue out at him and grabbing a slice of pizza.

His response was cut off by Max poking her head into the kitchen. “Can you guys stop flirting for two seconds so we can watch the movies? This is so boring.”

“Max…” Billy began.

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Shut up, Max.” she said in a mocking tone before disappearing into the living room. Teddi only smiled at Billy before she piled two more slices of pizza onto her plate and followed Max.

“Alright, so since El isn’t a big horror fan I picked up Midnight Madness and Splash,” Teddi announced. “And don’t even think about complaining, Hargrove. It’s three against one. Ladies night means we watch Splash.”

Billy groaned loudly and dramatically as he flopped down onto the couch. He’d rather tear his own eyes out than watch some chick flick. He’d sat through a few on dates, but it was a small price to pay to get to feel up whatever girl he’d taken out that week in the theater. And that definitely wasn’t gonna be happening with Teddi. Especially with the gruesome twosome around.

If he was honest El was probably his favorite out of Max’s friends. He still didn’t trust Lucas completely and Mike and Dustin annoyed the shit out of him. The Byers kid was okay. But there was something about him that gave Billy the creeps. El was quiet for the most part. She didn’t talk back like Mike always was (even though he was constantly trying to weasel rides all around town from him) and she wasn’t always babbling incessantly about all that weird nerd shit they all liked.

Still, Billy would’ve preferred it if the two of them weren’t there so he could try to put the moves on Teddi. Yeah, like that would work anyways, he thought bitterly. If all his flirting so far hadn’t worked, he definitely doubted that whole yawn and stretch trick would work on her like it did the other girls. So instead he crossed his arms firmly across his chest and pouted. He only moved to light up a smoke halfway through Midnight Madness.

That hadn’t been such a bad movie. He’d gotten a few laughs. He’d also caught Teddi watching him a few times whenever she knew a funny scene was coming up to see if he’d laugh or not. She almost looked proud each time he did. Like she had his approval.

Splash however...was a nightmare. God did he hate it. But he wasn’t surprised Teddi had picked it out. Some idiot finds a mermaid and falls in love with her. It had Weird Girl written all over it. They were about halfway through the movie when he finally complained. “This movie sucks,” he spat, a cigarette between his teeth. He lit it and tossed his lighter onto the coffee table. “You can’t even see anything! What’s the point of having her topless the whole damn movie if they’re gonna just cover her up?”

Teddi scoffed and gave his arm a soft shove. “Of course she’s not naked! There’s impressionable eyes in the room.” she said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Billy grumbled loudly.

Max turned to face the two of them with a smirk. “Yeah, Billy. Save your nudie movies for when it’s just the two of you.” she and El fell into a fit of giggles. Billy glared at the back of Max’s head. He grabbed a handful of the popcorn Teddi had made in between the two movies at threw it at the back of his step sister’s head. She only laughed.

He glanced over at Teddi. She was trying not to laugh herself. But her cheeks were flushed. She patted Billy on the shoulder. “It’s almost over,” she promised. There had only been about a half hour left. To Billy it had felt like ages. Max cracking jokes about how John Candy’s character was gonna be Billy in about twenty years definitely didn’t help either. When it was finally over Teddi stretched and fell back into the couch. Her head lolled over to look at Billy. The corner of his lips turned upwards. She smiled back at him.

“...I should get home,” she sighed. “I told my mom I was working an extra shift at the arcade. I don’t want her getting suspicious.”

Max and El whirled around. “What? You just got here!” Max complained.

“Max has board games!” El argued.

Teddi let out a whine like groan and scrunched up her nose. “Believe me girls, if I could sleep over I would. Maybe next time, okay? I’ll bring more chick flicks.” she grinned over at Billy. He rolled his eyes.

“How ‘bout you guys clean all this shit up, huh? And tell Teddi thank you for the movies.” God, he thought with a hint of disgust, I sound like Neil. Max and El both said their thank yous, hugging Teddi before running off into the kitchen with the remnants of popcorn and pizza.

Teddi returned both tapes to their cases and smiled over at Billy. “You gonna be able to handle them on your own?”

“Maybe...maybe I’ll sneak some nighttime cough syrup into their Cokes,” Teddi shot him a look and he waved a hand at her. “I’m kidding...thanks for this. Coming over and all.” he shifted nervously, his hands in his pockets.

Teddi shrugged. “It’s no problem. They’re fun kids. Plus I’d be lying if I didn’t say that I really enjoyed forcing you to watch Splash,” she laughed. Billy let out a short laugh. “I’ll see ya...probably tomorrow.” she said, her laugh a bit more awkward this time. Billy nodded and followed her to the front door. He opened it for her and gave an awkward wave.

“Later, Larsson.”

“Later, Hargrove.” she grinned, turning and making her way to the curb where her van was parked. Billy shut the door after her van disappeared down the street. El and Max were watching him from the hallway.

“Oh, Teddi I love you!” Max said in a deeper voice that Billy assumed was supposed to sound like him. She grabbed El by the shoulders. El laughed and matched Max’s movements.

“Kiss me Teddi!” she repeated in the same ridiculous tone before they fell into another fit of giggles.

Billy rolled his eyes and glares at the two girls. “Isn’t it time you little assholes go to bed?”

Max raised an eyebrow. “It’s ten o’clock, grandpa. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” She asked, taking El by the hand and pulling her down the hall to her room. He could still hear their laughter and he let out a groan, falling down onto the couch. He flipped on the TV and mindlessly flipped through the channels. He hated sleepovers.

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x oc

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cheekybabycal · 6 years ago

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Look at Me in the Eye

Summary: Calum and Y/N decided to give their relationship another shot, but it’s not long until the two become three. Now Y/N is faced with a difficult decision.

PART ONE

Rating: 14+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: anxiety, panic attacks

Warnings: swearing, mentions of unprotected sex, mild smut

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: my first fanfic on tumblr! Welcome to my page, hope you enjoy the shit I post. My writing is usually long (about 2k and above) so join the ride if you’re patient. That’s it, happy reading!

Y/N didn’t really believe in karma. She didn’t think that there was some weird, hidden force, returning positive or negative energy back to her. If she got something she wanted, it was because she worked hard for it. Not because she helped someone she barely knew find their way to a classroom back in 2013. Or if, god forbid, something bad happened to her, she would trace it back to why it occurred, and she would never assume it happened because of something mean she said a few months back.

But as she sat on the edge of her bed, her hands gripping the hem of her grey NYU sweater, her mind racing and her heart pounding in her ears, silencing the noise of the early January wind outside her window, she couldn’t help but think about what she could have possibly done to the world to end up in this position.

There were only a few times in Y/N’s 21 years of living in which she was, at least in her own opinion, unnecessarily rude. Other than that, she can’t think of anything she has done for ‘karma’ to come back and bite her in the ass. Okay, so maybe she stole a tiny stuffed puppy key chain back in 2nd grade, but surely that didn’t count...

Y/N wasn't stupid. She knew unprotected sex had consequences. She had learned enough in 9th grade health class to last her a lifetime. She knew about chlamydia and herpes and warts and HIV, and of course, pregnancy. But ever since she got back together with Calum (a decision she might be starting to regret), she had been happy. As in, actually, literally, genuinely happy. And so, it didn’t really bother her if they fucked without protection. The first time they did, though, after they got back together, was after quite a few hours of partying, both of them ridiculously drunk. She remembers leaving sloppy kisses on Calum’s skin, however much of it she could reach, as they stumbled into his apartment (which she moved into a few weeks after that night). She also remembers freaking the fuck out the next morning and running to the closest convenience store to buy a Plan B.

After that night, Y/N went on the pill and tried her best to keep up with the schedule. She even went as far as setting reminders on her phone for the first few months. But when her phone suddenly started blasting during a lecture, she was quick to get rid of the alarms altogether, and made a mental note to herself to take the pill at the same time every day.

And truth to be told, she was pretty consistent with it.

Until she wasn't.

Y/N and Calum had been tested and both of them were clean in the STI area, so using a condom or a birth control pill was solely for the purpose of not getting pregnant. However, since taking the pill at the exact same time, every single day on a regular basis was a bit of a challenge, they decided to go back to the classic – and easier – protection method, condoms. At first, Y/N didn’t want to say anything to Calum because she knew that for some men, condoms reduced the total amount of pleasure they would feel, but it turned out that Calum was fine with using them, and that was the end of that.

For the life of her, Y/N can’t remember how this could have happened. Never in a million years would Y/N think that she would be sitting alone on the bed she shared with Calum, shaking with fear of what was about to come.

Well, technically, she wasn't sure. Not yet anyway.

She couldn't bring herself to take the test.

So there she sat, on the bed, her heart hammering as she felt a panic attack coming. And it did.

Just as her lungs started to tighten and her head started to spin and her limbs started feeling numb, Y/N heard the front door open.

“Hey, I'm home.” Calum’s voice rang in her ears, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She couldn't call back to him if she wanted to, and God, this was the worst timing possible because Y/N knew, she just knew, that the second she would see Calum, the whole thing would get even worse.

She tries to focus on her breathing, but her head is spinning too fast for her to count her inhales and exhales. So instead she tries grounding herself, sliding off the bed to land on the floor and grip the soft carpet under her. It doesn’t help.

“Babe?” Y/N can hear his footsteps coming down the hall and towards the bedroom, and all she wants to do is melt into the carpet that she’s gripping so hard. She hugs her legs tightly to her chest (bad move, since she can’t breathe) and rests her forehead on her knees, planning to keep herself hidden from him for as long as she can.

“There you are.”

Well, there goes that plan.

“Shit, Y/N are you okay?” he’s by her side within seconds of stepping across the threshold of the room, crouching down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “What happened babe? Where does it hurt? Do you want some water?”

She looks up at him, a single tear spilling down her left cheek as she tries to control her breathing. He is so caring, so sweet, so loving to her, and she’s about to crash his entire life and everything he’d worked hard for.

“Fuck, it’s another one, isn't it? It’s okay, just focus on me,” he speaks calmly, now sitting next to her on the floor and wrapping his right arm around her. Calum was familiar with Y/N’s panic attacks and had helped her through a few, so it was safe to say he knew what he was doing.

She rests her head against his shoulder almost immediately, and as her heart continues to pound out of her chest, her arms give out and drop by her sides, causing her legs to wobble and land in an awkward lean against Calum. “Just focus on me,” he repeats. “focus on the sound of my voice. Here, give me your hand.” He gently takes her hands in his left one and starts playing with the rings on her fingers, and then the bracelets on her wrists. “These are really pretty. Almost as pretty as you. But I like this one,” he says, gliding his thumb over the small and simple rock-centered ring. “It kind of reminds me of that sculpture thing we saw at that mall downtown, do you remember that one? With the rocks and the little fake birds. It was fun to look at.”

Y/N knows what he’s doing: distracting her, and it’s working.

“I... yeah, remember,” she says weakly and between sharp inhales of air. “keep … keep talking.”

“Right, I always thought it was weird though. Because birds fly in the sky, and maybe near mountains, but the rocks on the sculpture looked like ones you would find on the beach, you know? And the birds didn’t look anything like seagulls, either, so what was the artist trying to accomplish?”

A light, throaty chuckle leaves Y/N’s throat, and she realizes that her heartbeat is starting to slow.

“Anyways, today was a good day at the studio. We got this really cool new song. Not the whole thing, but we have the bass down, thanks to me...” He laughs then, and she swears that the sound of it started to clear her head. “and Luke and Ash are working on the lyrics real hard, so that’s a plus.” and as he continued to talk about his day, Y/N feels her lungs opening up again, and oxygen reaching her brain again, and her heart rate slowing down back to normal. Almost, anyway. But it’s good enough.

After what seemed like forever, her breathing goes back to normal and she feels grounded. With a weak smile, she looks up at him, wanting to kiss every inch of his face and then his neck, and she wants to whisper in his ear that she is having his child but she isn’t sure yet and she doesn’t know if he would be happy or not and her thoughts are suffocating her so she just looks into his eyes.

He brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and leans down slowly. Ever so gently, he tilts her head, looks into her eyes, then at her lips, and closes the small distance between them. He presses his lips against hers lightly, and at that moment he could swear that this was the most intimate kiss they’d ever had, and when Y/N grabs his face with both of her hands and deepens the kiss, Calum is sure.

They fit so perfectly. Like they are meant for each other, and a slow warmth crawls up Y/N’s body and rests on her cheeks, a light pink spreading against her face. She smiles against his lips and pulls away, looking up at him, his chocolate eyes meeting her hazel ones. Their gaze holds for a moment, each looking into the other’s soul, and then she straddles him, resting her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she whispers, and even though they have already said I love you to each other about a dozen times since they got back together, she can feel Calum’s grip on her waist tighten before he relaxes a split second later and wraps his arms around her to pull her closer to him.

“I love you, too. So, so much”

Y/N can feel herself loosen, the stress she felt from earlier dissolving just a bit after hearing him say it back to her. At least now she knows that once she tells him, once she actually finds out for sure, that he will be supportive.

Hopefully.

She kisses him again, this time with more fury, like she can melt all her worries away with his lips. Her hands find their way to the nape of his neck and she plays with the dark curls there as he tugs on the material of her sweater. It’s a beautiful, passionate moment, but she wants more. Experimentally, she grinds her hips down on his, and a low groan escapes from the back of his throat and she feels the vibration of it on her lips. Taking that as a positive sign, Y/N continues to move her hips, grinding down on his forming erection and hearing his breathing quicken. She loved the sounds he made when he was just beginning to get aroused, because it almost sounded like he was trying to fight it, and Y/N always found that oh so sexy. Pulling her out of thought, Calum slips a hand under her sweater, rubbing circles against her back before moving it up to cup her breast. She sighs into his mouth, quickening the pace of their kiss as she relishes in the feel of his skin against hers.

But then he lowers his hand to her ribs, down her stomach, and when his fingers gently graze against her abdomen, she opens her eyes and stops everything she is doing, pushing him away with just a bit of force.

Calum blinks at her. Pulls his hand away. “uh... did I do something?”

She bites her lower lip and looks away, shaking her head. Great. Now she had to explain why she was all weird, which would most likely lead to him asking why she had a panic attack in the first place.

Just great.

“I... um, no. You didn't do anything wrong; I’m just jumpy today is all.”

He continues to look at her, as if he is debating whether to ask what’s really wrong, and Y/N prays that he won’t actually do it. After a long moment, Calum sighs and wraps his arms around her, and she leans into him, her face resting against his shoulder.

They stay like that for a while before starting what they had going before, back up again. It doesn’t take long for them to get really into it, and soon they’re stretched out on the floor, Calum lying on his back on the carpet and Y/N on top of him. They are a mess of lips and teeth and tongue and hair but they’re laughing and Y/N feels lighthearted. She stops to look at him, to really take in the beautiful sight that is her boyfriend, and then helps him get rid of his shirt. She’s a bit shaky when he slips his hands under her sweater to take it off, but she decides against pushing him away and instead lifts her arms to help him. After Calum pulls her sweater off of her, he sits up, with Y/N still on his lap, a look of worry on his eyes.

“Hey,” he says gently, lifting her chin so he could really look at her. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Calum, you know I know that,” Y/N really isn't sure what else to say.

He stares at her, then presses his lips softly against her forehead. That’s all it takes for her to kiss him again. It’s a heated, passionate kiss, full of emotion, like they haven’t seen each other in years, and they can’t get enough of it, of each other. She pushes him back down on the floor and bends over him, smiling against his lips as she starts to grind on him. He lowers his hands to her ass, squeezing gently before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her leggings and dragging them down. She gasps into his mouth as his fingers linger over her belly but she doesn’t want to disrupt the moment, so she ignores the nervousness that starts to poke her in the back of her mind. She can tell he wants this to go forward, and there isn’t much she can do when he raises his arms to her back and unhooks her bra.

She wants this; she really does. It’s been a long day for her and there is nothing she’d rather do than spend the night wrapped in Calum’s arms. But if she’s this sensitive to when he’s touching her near the abdomen, how will she react when he’s inside of her? Y/N doesn’t want to find out.

“Cal...” she breathes his name to get his attention, but he sees it as a sign of encouragement as he trails his lips from her jaw to her neck, leaving marks here and there, and her breath hitches in her throat because Calum’s lips on her skin are setting a slow-burning fire within her and she just wants it to grow.

He flips them over so he's hovering over her, and buries his face into her neck, trailing the forming hickies down to her sternum, to each of her breasts. He takes his time with her, getting her to gasp and moan as he pays attention to each nipple. Once he feels it’s enough, he continues his path, trailing his lips and tongue down her stomach, along the faint line of her abs, and then right down to...

She pushes him off before he can get to her lower abdomen, startling him. Sighing, Calum pulls away and sits up. “That’s it. What’s wrong?”

#5 seconds of summer #calum 5sos #michael 5sos #ashton 5sos #luke 5sos #calum hood #michael clifford #ashton irwin #luke hemmings #5sos #5sos fanfic #calum fanfic #calum hood fanfiction

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time-sponges · 6 years ago

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Airplane bathrooms are like entering an entirely new dimension.

Like airplanes themselves are a terror show that I don't want to get into right now

But you waddle yourself through the tiny door of the airplane bathroom, and you close it by sliding it's weird little panels because God forbid it have a normal door, and suddenly the entire plane just mutes? Like you turned the volume real down. It's just you and the toilet and the tiny weird sink that barely fits your hands.

You're left to contemplate a lot in your weird little sensory deprivation chamber.

Maybe you were never on a plane at all?

And the toilet. Why is it like that? Why does it flush like its mimicking those scenes in movies where people rip the airplane door off and everything just gets sucked outside the plane?

Whooosh. It doesn't have to do that, does it? Is that neccisary? Is there something so wrong with my pee that I need to watch it travel 90 miles an hour into the chasm of an airplane?

God forbid you hit turbulence. My biggest fear in life is sitting in an airplane bathroom and it will tell me to get back to my seat. What if I'm in the middle of business? Does the toilet have a seatbelt? Do just click in and accept that im about to turbo shit?

If the plane crashes and I die will someone at the flight agency tell my family I died on the toilet or will they just overlook it because they're kind of embarrassed for me too?

The toilet paper is weirdly ok though. It's not awful, but you'd think they'd make it extra bad to fit the rest of the experience.

Like getting to wash your hands in a room that doesn't really entirely exist since most bathrooms you're used to are firmly connected to the ground in ways that this micro prison isn't. The sink is so tiny you need to focus on other things while you apply soap that smells like your grandmother sort of. And you look at yourself in the mirror, illuminated by the grey and the flickering of lights and some signs that say," no smoking" because God forbid you forget you're on an airplane. And all you really see in that mirror is some desperate fuck who had to pee so badly during her three hour flight because she just can't say no to the inflight free drink, which is usually tomato juice even though you never drink tomatoes juice nor do you like it that much but yet you always order it on airplanes without fail for some reason. But she, and as in she you, drank the tomato juice and put herself in this position and now needs to either accept it or freak out.

It only ends when you push back open the weird little door, ending the trance and returning to the airplane. yet reopening it requires the strength of your ancestors spirits for some reason,and the flight attendent is always right fucking there to watch you struggle. She doesn't help. and then when you're finally out you waddle back to your seat apologizing to your row mates as you squeeze past them while remebering to yourself, " oh jeez wait I'm on a plane I'm thosands of feet above the Earth and oceans in a tin can that I just took a dump in"

Anyway, not fun.

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akitalepu · 7 years ago

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Some Things Stay the Same (2/2)

Note: This takes place during and right after the bonus scene in Black Panther. This is not a romantic Bucky/Shuri fic.

...

Previously:

Nothing...just, uh, the way you boss the King around. Reminds me of my little sister. Nice to know some things stay the same, is all.” Bucky murmured quietly, staring at his tea.

The princess of Wakanda shifted in her seat, facing the young soldier with very old eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Will you tell me about her?”

Now:

Bucky’s grip tightened on the delicate teacup and his eyes dropped from Princess Shuri’s steady brown gaze.

“You needn’t if it is too difficult—but it may help with the memory recovery process.” she murmured kindly.

Bucky set his teacup down and scrubbed his hand through his face, pushing strands of dark hair away.

“It’s not difficult...to remember her. But we didn’t part on great terms.” He muttered. “I’m not even sure where to start.”

Shuri took a slow sip of ajiri tea and grinned. “The beginning is usually the best place.” Despite himself, Bucky rolled his eyes and a smile slowly crept over his face. Shuri’s eyes danced with mischief as the Winter Soldier melted away and Bucky emerged, his dark blue eyes far away, recalling memories from the early 1900s.

“Well, she was a lot like you, actually. We were close as kids. She was three years younger than me, and stubborn as a mule. Her named was Rebecca. Rebecca Ida Barnes. Everyone called her Becky. Always following me around, bossing me around. Highly competitive—Beck would learn games and then when she lost she’d throw a fit and make up her own rules.” Bucky snickered.

“One time, when my dad was at work, the power went out in a storm. We built a fort out of dry laundry and lit about a dozen candles—I know, I know, but this was a different time—and played cards for hours. Whenever Becky lost she’d blow out all the candles, steal the matches and lock herself in the closet, refusing to come out until I forfeited my winnings which were usually,” Bucky grinned, remembering. “Old peanuts. Dad came home to find us completely in the dark, huddled under the laundry with peanut shells cracked all over the place. He made us sweep up all the crushed shells.”

Shuri shook her head, chuckling, “And where was your mother during all this? Did she scold you, too?”

His grin faded and he grew quiet again. “My mom, she ah, she...passed away two years before that. I was 8. Cancer came quick.”

Shuri kicked herself mentally. Why was she constantly putting her foot in her mouth around this man?! “I’m very sorry, Sergeant Barnes. I can’t imagine losing a parent that early in life.” She murmured softly.

Bucky dipped his head in acknowledgment, long hair covering hooded eyes that were suddenly blurry with hot tears. “Thanks, she was quite a lady, you know? My mom was an immigrant when she came to America.

Her named was Winifred, but everyone called her Winnie. She settled in Hell’s Kitchen with friends first, then moved to Brooklyn when she married my dad.

My ma came from a small village in Ireland. Most everybody there, in that village, was poor and farmed for their livelihood. They all spoke Gaelic first, English second. Ma had a real heavy brogue when she came over. My dad always said he didn’t understand a single thing she said in their first conversation, but he didn’t care because she was so beautiful and kind.” Bucky smiled fondly, remembering many family dinners when his dad had retold the story to he and his little sister. Becky and Bucky would make retching noises as their parents kissed at the end of the familiar story, making moon eyes at each other.

“How did your parents meet?” Shuri asked curiously. “I take it he was not Irish then?”

Bucky snorted. “No, my father was from a well-to-do English family who didn’t care much for religion. My father’s family didn’t approve of him marrying a poor Irish farmgirl with a limited education and devout Catholic beliefs. My dad converted to Catholicism before they married and cut off most ties, except with his sister Ida. My aunt Ida was great. Becky’s middle name came from her. She raised us after my dad died a few years later.”

He continued, “My mom and dad met at the dry cleaner where she worked. He came in to collect his shirts before going to an interview later that day. Mom always said this was an accident, Dad said it was on purpose. She was ringing him up at the register when she knocked over a small pile of change. They both bent down to pick it up at the same time, and knocked heads. Well, my dad’s nose started bleeding a lot from the impact and she was apologizing profusely and also happened to knock over a flower vase as she was apologizing. So, my dad’s nose is bleeding, my mom’s frantically trying to dry his shirts of flower water with a few tissues and apologizing in a mix of Gaelic and English. When my mom noticed how much blood there was, she went white as a sheet and fainted.”

At this point, Shuri was crying silently with laughter. “However did your father ask your mother on a date when he’d made the poor woman faint?!”

He laughed aloud. “Well, he called an ambulance and they ended up in the hospital next to each other. When my mother woke up, she was disoriented and was confused as to why a man in a fancy suit with a bloody nose was trying to shake her awake to apologize—so she started screaming like a banshee and cursing him in Gaelic.”

“Once she calmed down and realized what was happening, they both apologized to each other. It took him two months to work up the courage and go back to the dry cleaner’s to ask her on a date.” Bucky smiled fondly.

“Becky was a lot like her. Smart as a whip, but kind, too. One time, she caught some guys in the neighborhood kicking a homeless guy. Without even thinking, Becky ran full-throttle down the street and began beating the ever-living daylights outta guys six inches taller than her. She was all of 15, then. I think they were more startled by the tiny girl screaming Gaelic curses at them, but they never bothered that guy again.

She even helped Steve out of some scrapes even though Dad, Ida and I forbade her to. Becky never listened.

She never outgrew her competitive edge. Beck was always the first in everything. She learned how to ride her bike before me, how to drive before me—hell, how to drink before me, too. My sister was the top of her class and the first woman in our family to attend college.” Bucky smiled proudly. “Next to Steve, she was my best friend. And the only one to call me James, even if it was only when she was angry with me.” He smiled a little at the memory. Becky was a whirlwind, quick to action and judgment and unrelenting in voicing her opinions. Bucky privately thought she would’ve gotten along great with Peggy Carter.

He closed his eyes. Bucky thinks about what life would’ve been like, after the war, sometimes. Becky would marry the pediatrician she’d been sweet on in college—Dr. Proctor. Bucky would be best man at Steve and Peggy’s wedding. He’d walk Becky down the aisle at her wedding, trying not to cry and failing as she rolled her eyes and smiled fondly at her big brother, the sap.

The couples would visit each other on the weekend, have barbecues in the summer and Bucky would hold nieces and nephews in one arm, carefully, lovingly. They’d never go to war again.

He’d be the fun uncle, bring them candy and too many presents on Christmas and shoot off fireworks with them on Steve’s birthday, the fourth of July. Peggy and Becky would yell at Bucky and the kids, warning him not to lose his other arm. “SO HELP ME, JAMES!” they’d shout in tandem and Proctor and Steve would snicker behind paper cups of lemonade as Bucky rolled his eyes and the kids would scream with delight as they sprinted every which way with sparklers. Bucky would look at them all—Becky and Steve, Proctor and Peggy and all the kids, his nieces and nephews and though he’d be missing an arm, he’d have all he needed, right infront of him. Safe, from everything, watching colors dance in the sky—

“—Sergeant Barnes? Bucky?” Shuri was shaking him slightly by the shoulders. Bucky snapped out of his daydream.

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “I was thinking about what life might’ve been like, if the war had turned out...differently for me. For Steve.”

Shuri scrutinized him with concern. He had been doing this left often, but he still had these moments, often lasting up to half an hour, where he would stare vacantly, morosely at the distance. Shuri knew his mind was half a century and a world away during these times.

“I see...you mentioned that you weren’t on good terms when you left for the war. What happened?” She hesitated slightly but had to know if there was something missing. There was an unresolved pain he was holdng back, not mentioning.

Bucky tipped his head toward the mid-morning sky, soft with clouds. His eyebrows scrunched painfully, remembering her last words as though it had been yesterday. “Becky...she yelled and screamed and threw things when I told her I was leaving to go to war, with Steve. She said...she said if I left, voluntarily, she would never speak to me again. Not even if I came back in a box.”

Shuri looked at him in horror.

Bucky opened his eyes and blinked at the sun. “You have to understand—Becky was afraid. Young men—boys, a lot of them, were going overseas and not coming back. We’d already lost our mother and father. Aunt Ida was getting on in years.

There would be enough money for Becky to continue college and even get her own place if she wanted after graduation until she found a job, but she cussed at me and told me it wasn’t the money she was worried about.

Becky was terrified of losing me. I was scared, too, of all the dangers she’d face when she left for college, since it was several states away. I kept imagining her getting lost—she had the worst sense of direction—or God forbid anything worse! I couldn’t protect her at college. I begged her to relocate closer, go to a college near home. But, she insisted on her independence. Still, she didn’t have anybody keeping an eye on her. I didn’t sleep for a week after she left until Steve talked me down from my hysteria. He and Ida both sat me down and told me I had to stop worrying or I’d ruin my health. After that, Beck and me chatted every Sunday, no matter what. It helped a lot.

Things were pretty serious with her beau, Proctor, at that point when I enlisted, but they weren’t going to get married until after college, at least. He was going to propose with my mother’s ring—I gave it to him. He promised to take care of her, and by the look in his eyes, I knew he was serious. But, she wouldn’t forgive me for following Steve into war.” Bucky’s eyes slipped shut again, his hand now gently circling the teacup. The tea was cold and stale now. “I assume that after I ‘died’ they informed her. But I don’t know for sure. I’ve never checked.”

Shuri sat quietly. “She thought you abandoned her.”

“Yes.”

“And you’ve never even tried to trace—“

“No.” Bucky’s voice was quiet, but firm. “That part of my life is over now.”

Shuri’s shoulders drooped with disappointment. She could easily track down records, family history, where Becky might be now, where her children or grandchildren might be, if she had married Proctor or not, but instead of mentioning all this to Sergeant Barnes, who was likely thinking the same thing, Shuri merely rose and mentioned, “Becky sounds like a remarkable woman. Thank you for telling me about her, Sergeant Barnes.”

“Sure,” Bucky smiled a little, the corners of his mouth finally turning up again. “She would’ve liked you.”

Shuri grinned. “I’ll make some more tea. Would you like a new cup?”

“Any chance of that coffee?”

coffee?”

“...Very well. One cup. For another story.” Shuri walked away quickly to brew another pot for herself and coffee for the Winter Soldier, who snorted quietly in the background.

...

One week later:

Bucky returned to his small room, exhausted after a day of learning more about Wakanda’s history and language, his therapy sessions and a baffling session where the princess tried to explain Vine compilations to him.

On his nightstand, there was a steaming cup of tea and a simple manila folder with the words, “Rebecca Ida Barnes Proctor” typed on the front.

A short note from Shuri read,

“Sergeant Barnes-

Thank you for all the stories. I hope this can fill in some of the missing chapters.

Best,

-Shuri”

Bucky sighed deeply. The kid never really gave up. With tentative hope, Bucky opened the folder and began to read about the past. And for the first time in seventy years, he wasn’t afraid to look at those old chapters and see what he missed.

#bucky barnes #shuri #black panther #black panther fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel #some things stay the same verse #some things stay the same part 2

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staticscreenwriting · 7 years ago

Text

Everything there is - Billy Hargrove

Synopsis: Billy’s mom is not dead in this one. She has a boyfriend though and Billy isn’t sure if he fits into this new family dynamic.

A/N: I like this story it was fun to write. I do hate the header image though, it didn’t work out the way I wanted it but at least I hope the writing is good. Hope you enjoy, feedback is very much appreciated ♥

“ I can't remember what I used to do Who I trusted whom, I listened to before I swear you've taught me everything I know Can't imagine needing someone so But through the years it seems to me I need you more and more “

Iron Maiden’s Wrathchild is blasting from his stereo, as Billy Hargrove lays on the floor of his childhood bedroom. A sweltering, clammy heat has taken over California and the floor seems to be the only place providing some kind of cooling.

The gray muscle shirt is sticking to his skin like a damn glove and he feels disgusting. It’s like all the whining he’d done about it not being warm enough in Indiana, has finally come back to bite him in the ass.

Sure he could go downstairs where there are actual working fans in several rooms that still possess all of their blades, unlike the one in his room. He could go downstairs in favor of a less sticky, less uncomfortable surrounding but really he’ll take sweaty balls over the shit downstairs any day.

Going downstairs means dealing with Craig. Dealing with his mom. Dealing with his mom and Craig. As a couple. As a family. As two people who don’t seem to be able to stop kissing and hugging and touching like a bunch of teenagers who have just discovered french kissing for the first time in their goddamn lives. A couple who bought a cat together, a fat ginger one, and called it Cat Benatar. Who do crossword puzzles together over the breakfast table and watch game shows cuddled up on the sofa every saturday evening and who go to concerts together and road trips and dates to the bowling alley. A couple who’s happy. A family that’s complete.

Going downstairs means seeing all of this and realizing once again how out of place he is here. How much he doesn’t fit into this life, this family. How happy his mom is. Without him.

It’s half an hour later and an entire run through the Killers album again, that a knock sounds at Billy’s door.

He grumbles a “come in” and hopes the person doesn’t hear it and just assumes he’s asleep or busy — or dead, and leaves him alone.

They don’t.

Craig, all blue eyes and over the top toothpaste commercial smile, sticks his head through the slightly opened door and looks at Billy as if he’s about to drop some life changing news, like a lottery win or something.

He doesn’t.

Instead he approaches Bill with a “Hey Bud” effectively wanting Billy to punch himself unconscious so he never has to hear anyone, let alone this complete stranger, call him Bud. Or champ. Or any of those weird ass nicknames Craig has been hurling at him since him and mom had picked him up from the airport.

Billy is 18, not 8. Those nicknames stopped being funny or endearing a while ago and at 18 they’re pretty much just creepy.

Also he’s not Craig’s Buddy in the first place so he doesn’t know where he got that idea from.

“ You wanna come downstairs for lunch ? Your mom made some sandwiches. Asked her to add some extra bacon. I heard you like that. I can remember when I was your age I would put bacon on literally everything”.

Billy finds it hard to even imagine this slightly balding, stach wearing man with the paint splattered jeans and the ridiculous CCR shirt, as an actual living teenager. It feels like Craig just came out of the womb all boring and bad jokes and all.

“ ‘m not really hungry, thanks though “:

He doesn’t want to be rude or ungrateful, he really doesn’t. It’s just that sitting down at the kitchen table with his mom and Craig is just gonna end up being a torture for him and he doesn’t want to end up saying something that would hurt his mom. They’re gonna ask about College and School and Friends and, god forbid, his love life. He really doesn’t fancy any of those talks. Especially not with Craig.

“ I know man, but your mom really wants to spend some time with you. Come on, give her that. She missed you “.

Billy thinks that’s the biggest bullshit of the century. Clearly his mom hasn’t missed him all that much. She went and got a whole nother life. A better one. A happy one. While she sent him to live with his dad who they both know doesn’t give two shits about Billy. Clearly she hasn’t missed him enough to have him over for Christmas instead of going on a trip to Montana with her new boyfriend.

She hasn’t missed him at all he feels like.

But she’s still his mom and even if she breaks his heart he will never be able to break hers. Because despite it all she’s still one of the few people he has ever truly loved.

“ Alright “ He murmurs and gets off the floor, shirt sticking to his back. In that moment he kinda misses his dad’s old home in California, it might’ve been a shitty run down place but it had a little pool in the back and that was basically heaven to Billy.

As he follows Craig downstairs, he can hear his mom hum along to Hall and Oates. She’s in a summer dress and her hair is up in some intricate braids and Billy almost doesn’t recognize her. This isn’t the woman that stayed behind while he was sent away. Back then she was all tired eyes and messy hair and sweater sleaves pulled over her hands. This woman had her shit together in the best way possible. Billy isn’t sure he’ll ever fit into this equation.

“ There’s my boy. Come sit “ she exclaims as she spots Billy waking into the kitchen and pats the barstool by the kitchen isle where a plate is already waiting for him.

Billy can’t remember the last time his mom made a home cooked meal for him. Back when he was a little boy she had a habit of trying out the most ridiculous dishes from her own mother’s cookbook, which usually resulted in the entire family feasting on a big cheesy pizza because she burned the dish. When things got bad between her and his dad, she stopped trying all together.

Sitting down at the kitchen isle, Billy starts chomping down on the sandwich. It’s not the most outrageous and delicious 4 course meal but there’s bacon and cheese and that’s basically all he needs.

For a moment he feels like a kid again, who’s mom greets him after school with sandwiches and juice boxes and hugs and love.

Then he notices that neither his mom nor Craig seem to be eating anything. In fact, they’re not even sitting down. They’re cooped together, Craigs arm around his mother’s waist as they both intensely focus on Billy himself.

“ You guys alright ? “

“ Yes, yes. Of course “ his mom exclaims, her words coming out jumbled and too quick for Billy’s liking. There’s something she isn’t telling him and it’s both annoying and hurtful.

“ Actually we are more than alright “ Craig speaks up from beside her.

There’s this look in both their eyes of excitement and joy but also fear of judgement and anxiety. Whatever it is they’re trying to tell him, Billy isn’t sure he’s going to like it very much.

His half eaten sandwich now completely abandoned, Billy raises his eyebrows in question.

“ What’s that supposed to mean then ? “

“ I — “ his mom starts and takes a deep breath before continuing “ we. We have something to tell you. There’s a reason I asked you to come visit me this summer. Not only because I missed you but also because there’s something really big you need to know “.

She pauses again and Billy feels like every second that goes by he gets a little more sick to his stomache.

“ What is it, mom ? “

“ Craig asked me to marry him and I said yes. The wedding is next saturday and I — Billy I just really wanted you there for it. We’re just gonna keep it real small. Get married at the courthouse and then have a tiny celebration at the Comet View. There’ll be dancing and drinks and good food. You know, just a fun night “.

Billy feels like he just drank and entire bottle of ice cold water in one go. His insides are frozen, his mind is frozen. There’s something about these news that make it impossible for him to process them. It’s like a thunderstorm crashing down on him in the middle of an Indiana winter.

A relationship was one thing but marriage ? Marriage is big and it means a lot and it’s — forever. And it feels like that might just completely close the door on Billy ever being a part of his mother’s life that isn’t just a visit every few months if at all.

“ Billy ? “

He realises that they expect and answer. A congratulation. Something. But can he really pretend to be happy about something that might just break his heart entirely ?

Yes he can.

Pretending is all he ever does.

“ Mom that’s — good. Congrats. Really, that’s great “.

He hugs his mom and shakes Craig’s hand and he needs to get out. The nerves in his fingers and and his toes are tingling and his heart is beating at a speed he’s sure it shouldn’t be. He’s hot and cold and everything in between and he needs to be somewhere else.

Somewhere he feels happy and safe and calm and comfortable and — like home.

Somewhere with his girl.

He knew he’d find her here. It’s her place, their place.

While the tourists and the loved up couples and the families mostly flocked to the pier, (Y/N) and Billy had found their own little spot of heaven and calm in the form of an abandoned beach watch tower further down the shore where the driftwood accumulated and the white sand wasn’t as picture perfect.

But it was theirs. Unofficially sure but it was. He hopes it still is.

“ Hey Chewie, didn’t expect to see you here “.

It’s like no time has passed and yet it feels like another life completely. She’s there in her shorts that are way too tiny to even be called that and shades on her face shaped like stars. There’s a sunhat on her head and a book in her hand and he’s sure he’s never seen anyone more perfect.

She is his poison and his cure all wrapped in one big mess of a girl. She is perfect and flawed, complicated and so well put together. She is everything and all.

He wishes he could’ve stayed. Wishes that the future he had so desperately wanted to have with her wasn’t but a mere dream to wander off to at nights he couldn’t seem to fall asleep.

He wishes she would still love him. And that the universe would work out for him for once, so he could allow himself to love her more.

“ Why am I Chewbacca ? “

“ The hair ?! “ she says and motions to his curly mullet. There’s a laugh hidden in her words and it makes the anxious tingles in his fingers disappear for a moment.

“ Fair enough. What makes you Han then ? “

“ Well, you always made sure I shot first “.

Billy almost chokes on his own spit right then. This beautiful girl with a smile that can compete with the sun, spouts dirty jokes so casually like there’s nothing about it. But that’s who she is, who she’s always been. And Billy’s heart aches so much when he realises just how much he missed her.

“ Come here you big Wookie ! “ she exclaims, takes off her shades, and pulls Billy into a hug. She’s all warm and familiar and she smells like the ocean and her signature Opium perfume that Billy knows so well because he used to buy her a new one every Christmas.

He kisses her head softly like old times. Like when things were good and they were happy and they didn’t have a lot but they had each other and that was really all the needed. Now he has a shitty room in a shitty house in a shitty town. With people he can’t stand and a family that shouldn’t even be allowed to be called a family.

And she has —

He honestly doesn’t know because he never bothered to call. Not only did he want a clean cut to make it possible for her to move on eventually, but he was also a fucking coward and calling her, hearing her voice, hearing she was happy without him would’ve killed him.

“ You doing good ? “ he asks and almost has a heart attack as she looks up at him with her big beautiful eyes that hold so much love he can’t even fathom it properly.

“ I’m okay. What about you ? “

He could lie. Tell her how amazing his life is and how happy he is. How it doesn’t break his heart to see his mother move on to a life that he has no place it. How Hawkins is all he ever dreamed of and how he doesn’t miss her like crazy.

He could, but he doesn’t.

He’s done a lot of shit in his part, still does a lot of shit, but one thing he’s never done, is lie to (Y/N).

She’s always been his person. The one that you can’t and don’t ever lie to. She knows him inside out and accepts him still. All faults and issues and baggage.

You don’t lie to people like that.

“ Mom’s getting married “.

He wants to say so much more because there’s so much more bubbling inside of him but he has absolutely no idea how to put them into words. It’s too much, too fast. So he leaves it at that.

“ I know “

“ You do ? “

“ Yeah. Just because you left doesn’t mean I stopped all contact with your family “

That makes him feel a little better although he doesn’t really know why. Maybe it’s because it reminds him that she was so much more than just some highschool girlfriend. She was his girl. Part of his family. And knowing that some part of that stayed, some part of that is still there, makes him happy.

“ Also, I don’t know if you recall but my dad owns the place where the reception is held so even if she didn’t ask me to be her maid of honor I still would’ve found out about it “.

“ She asked you to be what now ?!”

“ The maid of honor. Look Billy, when you left it was hard on both of us and we kind of bonded over that. “

That was ridiculous, his mom sent him away it’s not like he had left on his own accord. He didn’t want to leave, he would’ve given everything and more to be able to stay. But he was a minor and both his parents had decided leaving for Indiana was the better choice. That was a fucking bullshit decision.

“ I don’t think I can do this “

“ Do what ? “

“ Watch her getting married. It’s like she’s starting this completely different life that makes her so happy. And don’t get me wrong I want her to be happy. But that life began without me and it’s gonna end without me. There’s no place for me. I don’t fit in there, (Y/N). I’m not part of this future. I’m not part of this family. “

(Y/N) untangles her arms from around his waist and takes a step back.

“ Billy, what do you think your mom did when you left ? “

“ I don’t know “ he says and shrugs his shoulders. He hasn’t really spent any thoughts on that. In his mind his mom was doing what she always did, only without him. “ Meeting men apparently. Falling in love. Being happy “.

“ You are delusional “

“ I’m sorry ? “

“ Billy I know this is not something you wanna hear but your mom wasn’t a saint before you left. She wasn’t happy but that wasn't your fault. You were her happiness, everything else was what made her unhappy. I know you see her as this superwoman who always did everything perfectly and who could do no wrong. But that’s not the person she was. You know what she did when you left ? She got help. Went to therapy, tried to fix her life so by the time you were done with highschool and maybe decided to return, she would be better. So she could be the woman you always thought she was. Everything she does, everything she did, was for you. She didn’t send you away because she didn’t want you here. It broke her heart to see you leave. She sent you away so she could fix herself without relying on you to pick up the pieces if things didn’t work out “.

Billy swallows the huge metaphorical lump that’s built in his throat while he listened to (Y/N)’s words. He had always known that his mother wasn’t happy and that she didn’t really have her shit together the way other mothers did. But he never thought it was this bad.

And maybe being angry at her was easier than admitting that she wasn’t this fearless, invincible saint he had always pictured her as.

“ She didn’t get better because you weren’t there, Billy. She went out and did something to change her life so she would be better once you came back. “

He wants to cry. He wants to scream and yell and punch something. Because life is terribly unfair and his mother of all people doesn’t deserve to ever feel unhappy. He wants to cry, but he doesn’t. Because it’s not what he does.

Instead he pulls (Y/N) back into an embrace. It’s sticky and gross but it’s what he needs. Because she’s his sun and his stars and his home and the one person to always align his planets and put things into perspective when he’s losing his head.

“ I don’t want to leave again “

He hasn’t said it out loud before but he’s been thinking about it for a while. Ever since he stepped a foot back into his childhood home. This is the place he wanted to be and even though with Craig around it all felt like things had shifted slightly, it was still better than Hawkins.

This was his home. His heart.

This was where his mom was and this weird new family she was creating with Craig and Cat Benatar. But maybe they could make some room for him in that constellation. He really didn’t need much space. Really.

“ Then don’t. “

“ You think they’d let me stay ? “

“ Billy, your mom is missing a piece of her heart whenever you’re not here. She’s got a proper job now and a wonderful man in her life that you should really give a chance. “

“ And a fat ginger cat. “

“ And a fat ginger cat ! She’s got her life figured out pretty well, you’re the only thing that’s missing. It’s ridiculous that you even consider the possibility of her not letting you stay “.

She softly combs her fingers through his hair like she always did when they were cuddled up on her couch or in the back of his car. He had missed this girl so much.

“ I’m missing a part of my heart to, you know ? “ he says and takes her face between hands.

“ You are ? “

“ Mmmmh … I got not one to watch shitty horror movies with. Got no one to steal my fries and eat the pickles off my burgers. “

“ What else ? “ she ask and rubs her nose against his.

“ There’s no one there to make fun of my mullet and then later hold onto it when I make them see stars. There’s no one to make me shitty apple pancakes. No one to sing along to Whitesnake with and no one to call me out on my shit. No one to keep me from falling apart. No one to love me. Not the way you do. Not even close. “

“ I love you Billy Hargrove and I miss eating your fries and all the burger pickles. “

When she kisses him, she tastes like the ocean and the sun and pink lemonade and home.

Billy Hargrove’s heart beats at an alarming speed as he walks his mom down the little courthouse corridor. It’s a good feeling though. It’s excitement rather than anxiety. It’s a feeling that something is changing, for her and for him. Maybe this can be a step into a new life, one that he can be a part of if he makes an effort. One that he is no doubt accepted into.

His mom cried when he had told her he wanted to stay. Good tears. Happy tears.

He kisses her cheek as he puts her hand into Craigs. Craig who turns out to be a huge Metalhead. Craig who’s quoting shitty B-Movie Horror flicks. Craig who saw something in Billy he didn’t know was there and helped him get a part time job at a garage specialized on muscle cars and vintage vehicles with a good change of full employment after high school.

Craig who’s actually a pretty cool guy.

When he sits down, in the front row, (Y/N)’s hand slips into his and for that moment he’s sure his world, his universe, is as good as can be.

It’s later at the reception when he’s dancing with his mom. Yes, Billy is dancing. He’s a good dancer, okay ?! No shame !

His mom looks at him with that typical motherly stare of pride and unfiltered maternal love. He hasn’t seen that looks in so long he’s really missed it.

“ I’m so happy to have you back. Things are gonna be good from here on out. I know it. “

Billy’s eyes wander over to the girl in the bright purple dress that he thinks is terribly ugly but she makes it work anyway.

His mom’s eyes follow his and a smile appears on her lips “ You know, you guys could be next. To get married I mean “.

“ Mom, come on “ he complains but secretly, it’s all he’s been thinking about.

“ I know, I know. Go dance with her at least “ she says and places a kiss on his cheek.

“ I’m proud of you, Billy. “

Before she can walk away he calls out to her. “ Hey mom ? “

“ Yeah ? “

“ Thank you, for everything. I’m proud of you too “

She smiles but he can see the tears in her eyes. He hopes they’re happy ones.

“ Hey pretty boy “ a voice speaks up from beside him. (Y/N) looks all crazy and bright and out of place with all the elegantly dressed middle aged friends of his mother and Craig but damn if she isn’t the best thing he’s ever laid eyes on.

“ Hey pretty girl. “

His hands grab her softly by the hips as her arms fall around his neck and they start swaying to the music softly playing in the background. If this is what his life is from now on, he’s happy.

This new little family is broken and weird and unconventional but It could be good, real good.

He looks into (Y/N)’s eyes and sees their entire future right there in front of him.

“ I’m glad you’re back. “

“ Of course I am. Can’t live with half a heart now can you ? “

#billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fanfiction #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfic #dacre montgomery fanfiction

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