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#im sure ill have my low moments where i hate him and wish i could be with her and etc etc but like. god
munamania · 2 years
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something so freeing about going it’s not my problem <3 like! ok sure i’ll still have feelings for her for however long. nd that sucks. but im not even that mad about bf rn. im just like. okay! it’s been said! we’ll see how things fucking go. is she confused? not my problem! is she even happy with him? not my problem! in denial? not my problem! i’ve said what i needed to say. omg <3
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technowoah · 3 years
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THESEUS - a dsmp story ( DreamSMP x Queen!Reader)
CHAPTER FOUR : LOOK ‘EM IN THE EYE AIM NO HIGHER, SUMMON ALL THE COURAGE YOU REQUIRE THEN COUNT!
Chapter Summary: Wilbur makes a proposition, Tommy finally gets his fight, warning shots are fired and the bomb that was planted finally went off.
pairing: c!wilbur x queen!reader
an// tbh im not that happy with this one, I hope yall like it! but hopefully Ill like chapter 6 lol
⚠︎ swearing, dsmp spoliers(?), angst, fighting, minor blood mention, not proofread. Y/N/N = your nickname
word count: 5.1k
THESEUS MASTERLIST 
"Are you sure you want to do this because Tommy is a good fighter!"
"He's also good at being annoying, so you'll die either way."
"SHUT UP YOU TWO!" 
Currently Tommy and You were by a small lake in L'Manburg facing each other with swords and guns. Fundy and Tubbo were belittling Tommy on the sidelines. Tubbo was trying to convince the both of them not to do this so they wouldn't get hurt badly before the actual war begins. Wilbur was standing in between the two and Eret nervously standing off to the side with Tubbo and Fundy.
When You arrived you explained to the three people who were there, Tubbo, Fundy, and Wilbur, that Tommy and you were going to fight that day. Tubbo and Fundy were not for that idea at all, but Wilbur approved it. After a while of thinking and conversation of course he agreed. 
Eret and Tommy arrived at L'Manburg as well and apparently Tommy already told Eret that he was fighting his wife.
"You know what Eret? I'm gonna fight your wife today! Yeah it'll be a good fight, don't worry I wont hurt her that badly."
Of course Eret did not want this duel to happen and tried to convince Wilbur to not let the two do this to one another. He was concerned about the task and hand yes, but You getting hurt or even worse, killed was not a thing he wanted not needed. Tommy was a loose cannon, he worked on impulse. You were basically fighting a bull while wearing all red.
Wilbur had pulled You aside for the second time this week and started to have a conversation with you again. It was a needed conversation so when Wilbur grabbed her arm.and pulled her away you didn't hesitate this time. As the two talked in the distance you heard Fundy yelling at Tommy about the dangers of fighting You at a time like this. Your mind was all over the place at this point.
"You know how this works?" Wilbur looked at You and Tommy.
"Yes!"
"Yes I do"
You knew what was going to happen. They both had 6 bullets in their gun, if they use all of their bullets they can use their swords instead. You were in your head at this moment. Wilbur was explaining how this duel would work to Tubbo, while You contemplated whether to waste youshot by shooting in the sky or aiming at Tommy's foot. you didn't want to hurt him at all, they had a war coming soon so hurting Tommy would not help L'Manburg. Then again, when was helping L'Manburg a part of your mission?
You snapped out of your mind and saw Tommy glaring daggers at her. He looked harmless.
"I am going to beat you." Tommy said in a voice that can be only compared to a robot.
"You wish!" You scoffed and smiled, smiled which made Tommy scoff and look away.
Wilbur spoke over the two, "ALRIGHT! You two will be back to back facing away from each other, then take ten paces. When I say "fire" you two will fire and shoot and fight until one is damaged and cannot battle anymore or until I call a draw. Understand?"
"Yes Wilbur!" Tommy exclaimed.
"Of course." You calmly said.
"Alright" Wilbur agreed and motioned for the two to turn away from each other. 
They had both touched backs and You had taken a huge deep breath. 
The dilemma in your head was still spinning. Whether to shoot him or to shoot into the air. you would be a coward wouldn't you?
"You scared?" Tommy taunted you.
"No. Just getting ready to beat your ass."
"HA! That's not gonna happen. You're all talk." 
"We'll see about that." Wilbur spoke, inserting himself into their conversation.
Wilbur had stepped back towards the group of men who sat and were watching the whole duel. There was tension in the air, they all could feel it. They all thought this was a bad idea, You thought this was a bad idea. What if this tore the whole plan apart will they ever get to-
"READY? ONE!"
They both took a step.
Aim to the sky or aim towards Tommy?
"TWO!"
Where would you aim?
"THREE!"
What would happen if Tommy ended up dead?
"FOUR!"
Would Dream be happy?
"FIVE!"
If you aim towards the sky. Tommy might shoot. you would be an open target.
"SIX!"
It would be over right? If you aim at the sky?
"SEVEN!"
Tommy.
"EIGHT!"
Up in the air.
"NINE!"
How can this end?
The sky? Tommy? Where does the bullet go?
Where do you go?
"NUMBER TEN PACES, FIRE!"
*bang!*
Tommy's eyes widened and You stood my ground.
"She shot her pistol towards the sky?!" Tubbo shouted.
Wilbur stood there with a smirk and Eret let out a sigh of relief and immediately relaxed. Tommy didn't shoot his gun at all; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. This was the right way.
-----------------
"I want you to shoot into the sky." Wilbur had taken you to an uninhabited part of the wall to talk.
"Why?"
Wilbur had sighed and looked over to where Tommy was gloating to Eret about dueling his wife.
He pinched the bridge of his nose, "Tommy is rather impulsive. He does things without thinking or with any concern for consequence. He says things without thinking too, as you've seen firsthand."
You nodded and laughed before Wilbur kept talking.
"I want him to hesitate. I want him to think for once. I know he wants to fight right now, he's riled up because of the battle. I expect him to shoot, but I hope that he won't. He won't." Wilbur seemed to be convincing himself this was a good idea.
"That's reassuring." You replied sarcastically.  
Wilbur rolled his eyes, "I believe he won't kill you nor harm you. At least that's the plan. I care for him. He's a good fighter and he should be able to see his opponent before going all ape shit." 
"I get it. I want to do this, but you said he works on impulse. What if he shoots?" You continued to worry.
"I'm here. And uh- Fundy is great at healing. We have healing potions in the van as well. You will not die on my watch. We need you for the war."
You nodded and continued to stare into Wilbur's brown eyes waiting for another comment from his mouth.
"Do this for me please? For us?"
You opened your mouth to speak, but Wilbur sighed before continuing his statement, 
"You don't have to do this. I should've said that first. I understand that death is scary, believe me I don't want to die either. So I can figure out another way to get to Tommy if you are uncomfortable with this."
This time it wasn't a forced situation. He was literally giving you a huge way out, an open path, but you already agreed to fight before. It wasn't like you were put into this without paths to take. you had options. Now that potions were involved and there are spectators that can act as doctors eased your nerves just slightly. you can do this.
"Or were you planning on shooting Tommy anyways?" 
--------------
You looked towards Wilbur and smiled warmly at him and he returned your same smile.
"WHAT THE FUCK?! YOU MADE ME LOOK LIKE THE BAD GUY! YOU-"
 "I didn't even call it a draw yet Tommy. You can still fight-" 
"It's clear that my opponent doesn't want this. If I did, I would be more of a bad guy than I already am now." Tommy dropped his gun to the green grass underneath his feet. 
You followed suit, dropping your gun onto the grass below you. You walked towards Tommy trying to find the right words at this moment. He had his head hung low looking at the gun that laid in the lush grass in front of him. You had walked towards him and put a hand on his shoulder and he began to tense up at the friendly gesture.
"Tommy, you're not a bad guy. You did the right thing at that moment. You're neutral really, if you would've shot me then yeah you would be considered "the bad guy". But in reality, there is no such thing as good or bad, there are just people with different morals." You whispered that last part and Tommy seemed to reluctantly understand, still sticking to his main idea of him being a bad guy. 
He was really stubborn, which made it harder for you to make him feel better.
"This is what I wanted Tommy! I wanted you to hesitate before you shot her." Wilbur tried to pick his spirits up by revealing his plan.
"THEN WHAT IF I SHOT HER?!" 
"you would've been fine. Plus you weren't going to brutally damage or kill Y/N right?"
Tommy stuttered a little bit before speaking, explaining himself.
"No I wasn't! My goal was at least to scare her, or graze you with my bullet." Tommy rushed.
"What if you slipped up and hit Y/N instead?" Tubbo came into the conversation leading Fundy and Eret with him.
"Then I would feel incredibly horrible that I hurt an ally." Tommy said while hanging his head. "I understand, Wilbur, I understand what today's duel was for." Tommy continued.
"To be honest, this was a last minute decision! I talked to Y/N before and we both decided it was a good idea for you. Especially when a war is coming up."
"Mhm. I am okay now. I've learned, and I just hope that I can transfer this into the war." Tommy seemed relieved, but also not wanting to learn his lesson. It was bad to assume, but it sounded like he wanted to get this lecture over with.
Wilbur humed while turning away satisfied with what happened today. He walked towards the HTO van with Fundy following suit leaving Tommy and you standing next to each other still recovering from what just happened. Eret and Tubbo were standing a few feet away from them making small glances to the two making sure they are okay.
"I still hate you." Tommy grumbled.
-----------------
The five citizens were sitting in the meeting room making potions with the brewing machines or doing their own thing at the moment. Wilbur didn't have anything planned for today except for making many potions for battle. You were helping with potions as well. you were more skilled at potion making than battle. you can hold yourself down and maybe kill someone, but you don't recommend for herself to do that.
"Wow Y/N/N you're making potions so much faster than I am. Teach me your secrets!" Tubbo exclaimed.
"What did you call me?" You asked The boy softly.
"What do you mean? I called you Y/N/N." Tubbo said, confused.
Has Dream ever called you Y/N/N before because it seems like you've never been called that before. Tubbo was still looking quizzically at you waiting for an answer.
"I don't think I've been called Y/N/N before." You answered.
"Y/N might be uncomfortable with that." Wilbur joined into their conversation.
"Oh! I'm sorry! If that made you-"
"I'm okay! You can call me Y/N/N'' You said while waving your hands to dismiss the situation.
"Good! I thought I was being a creep or something." Tubbo laughed.
"Y/N/N HELP ME OUT WITH THESE POTIONS WILL YA?" Tommy shouted from across the room.
"Okay you don't get to call me Y/N/N." 
Tommy huffed, "If my best friend can call you Y/N/N I will too!"
"Okay children settle down." Eret said while looking up from the book he was writing.
There was another pause until Fundy had spoken.
"Today seemed like a good day huh? Even though it isn't over so far, so good eh?" Fundy tried making conversation after writing whatever enchantments in his book.
"Yes it was so far! Very surprising today." Tubbo agreed with Fundy.
"Tommy and You gave me a heart attack today. I wouldn't consider this a good day so far." Eret exhaled jokingly. He seemed in good spirits today.
"I'm sorry I gave my husband a heart attack." You taunted.
"But seriously that scared me. Thank goodness nothing happened to the both of you. I wouldn't know what I would do." Eret continued.
"You would live." You said bluntly, staring at him. 
Eret nodded at you, sending a small smile your way.
"You would've been a good fighter. Have you fought before?" Fundy inquired.
"I have fought before! I've been trained as well, I'm more into the sneaky side of things, and making potions like I am now." You cheerfully explained.
"Sneaky things?" Wilbur asked.
Your eyes widened slightly before maintaining your composure. you forgot that Wilbur was still on youtail. He thinks that You is still suspicious, so of course when you said that he would jump on the opportunity to interrogate her.
"You could be a spy for us! Maybe spy on Dream and George!" Tubbo exclaimed.
Oh the irony.
Wilbur hummed, "Maybe, that would be interesting. We could get information and they wouldn't turn her down."
"It would be too late anyways if they've seen you here so it would be a major red flag if you showed up there trying to join their team." Eret spoke up, still concentrating on writing enchantments with Fundy.
Thank God that Eret was here, You would be stumbling for the right words and then eventually blowing their cover. you had this happen too many times. They are almost to the end you have to pull back.
"True. You're right!" Wilbur agreed. "Plus we've been more productive since you two came back."
Eret and you both nodded in agreement and went back to doing their tasks.
Tubbo and You were standing together on one side of the room making potions and talking to one another until Tubbo made a quiet gasp. 
You looked at him and followed his line of gaze until you saw them again. It was Sapnap and Dream on the top of the new, enlarged L'Manburg walls. Dream pulled back his hand and whipped something toward the van. It looked metal and shiny as it bounced harshly in the grass. 
Sapnap then pulled out a bow and arrow and Dream had set it on fire. Sapnap launched the arrow into the walls and it landed by the machine that Dream had thrown. The grass around the arrow caught on fire as well, not making a huge fire but enough to scare the two.
"WILBUR! You have a gift!" Tubbo said as he rushed out of the van and You watched carefully through the window so the two wouldn't do anything to the boy.
"Where did he go?!" Wilbur yelled.
"He went outside to grab the metal thing Dream and Sapnap threw." You said keeping an eye on Tubbo as he came back into the van.
Wilbur rushed towards the window where Aryia was stationed and looked towards the top of the wall where Dream and Sapnap were. Dream took one last final glance at the two in the window then turned away to jump down the wall with Sapnap following suit.
"Guys you might want to take a look at this." Tubbo said while placing the metal thing, which was an old answering machine, on the table.
Wilbur sighed, clearly exhausted with everything that had been going on. He sat down on the edge of the table. Tubbo pressed play on the machine and the recording started.
"Tommy, and Wilbur, and the rest of L'Man-child-burg. We are at war. There is no mercy. We have burned down Tubbo's house, we have planted TNT cannons around your land, we have cobblestone walled the outside, we have shot one warning shot inside your walls. WE HAVE NO MERCY, NO MERCY FOR YOU! We will burn down your houses! We will kill everything inside your walls and we will take back the land that is rightfully ours. If you do not surrender I WANT TO SEE WHITE FLAGS! WHITE FLAGS OUTSIDE YOUR BASE BY TOMORROW AT DAWN, OR YOU ARE DEAD!"
*beep~* 
There was a long beep until Tubbo shut off the recorded message. Everyone was silent looking at each other for the next move. Everyone either had a face of anger or one of concern. Eventually everyone turned to Wilbur who had his head down, his hair slightly covering his eyes in a thinking pose. We were waiting for a response from the leader, but it didn't seem like anyone had a response to this situation.
"Hey lets just-"
"Grab me a book and a pen" Wilbur spoke.
------------------
It's been about an hour since we last received the message. The sun has gone down and they are all still sitting around the meeting table. 
"What do we get? What's the report?" Wilbur asked.
Tommy started, "Okay so here's the situation, the ‘Dream boys' they're on the roof, they've already killed me and Tubbo once, they feel like they got their power. Their egos are up-" 
"They've taken it all." Tubbo added.
"I don't know man, what do you think we've got to do now? Ultimately you're the leader here." Tommy asked the older man.
Wilbur paused before speaking, "I think, the element of surprise is needed. We can't go in just guns blazing."
"My son, how are you doing?" Wilbur asked Fundy.
Fundy stuttered before speaking, "I could've been better."
Wilbur smiled then opened the book he had been writing in for the past hour.
"Before we go into battle though-
"WORDS OVER WEAPONS MY FRIEND!" Tommy interrupted Wilbur
"My gents and m'lady, may I read you the Declaration of Independence?" 
Wilbur had started to read through the Declaration complementing the writers who wrote lines in the book. He began reading the main parts of the book.
"When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for-"
"Wilbur" Tommy interrupted Wilbur again
"Yes what, what?" Wilbur asked annoyed
"They're surrounding us, Wilbur." 
Tommy stood up looking out of the window at the many fiery arrows making their way towards the van and making the grass around the van catch on small fires.
From inside the van it looked like rain from hell. All the fears you once had came flooding back into your mind. you put herself right in front of the greatest fighters, and assassins in the kingdom and you might not make it out alive. 
Wilbur started to head out of the door trying to face his opponents. They all were putting themselves out there exiting the van as fast as they could like a huge target. Speaking of target, an arrow shot by Sapnap landed too close for comfort next  to Wilbur. He seemed un phased at this.  
"They're not the best shot." Wilbur turned his back on the archers and stood in the doorway to the group inside.
Wilbur began to yell at the archers, "Gentlemen how are you!?" 
"Good!" Dream replied bluntly.
Surprisingly they could hear both of each other. 
"Do you like the view of our nation!?" Wilbur asked as he smirked.
"Oh God!" Tubbo exclaimed, worried because of the taunting Wilbur was doing.
"We might be a little out gunned here gentlemen." Eret said softly to the others while placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting way.
"I thought this was a trailer park!" Dream shouted back. 
"Very funny, listen. It seems like you've gained the upper hand in people! We will meet you in the field, but on our own terms!" Wilbur concluded.
"YEAH!" Tommy shouted at the archers hyping Wilbur up.
The rest laughed at Tommy's antics trying to keep it together.
"Please stop making things worse!" Tubbo laughed.
Another arrow was shot at Wilbur's feet. He was clearly stunned by this, turning to the rest of the L'Manburgians he spoke to them.
"We armor up gents." Wilbur said, walking away.
Just as he walked away Tommy followed Wilbur outside of the van and then an arrow was shot into Tommy's bicep by George. Tommy yelled in anger and in pain, and the rest followed suit yelling in shock. Tommy clutched the arm that the arrow had found its way into, he tried to keep it together as he fell to his knees. You rushed to Tommy's side trying to take the arrow out carefully and heal him. He kept on shielding his arm away from you and kept babbling incoherent nonsense about “leaving him alone” too.
"It's okay! I'm fine! I'm fine! Don't worry!" Tommy kept shouting.
"You're not fine Tommy, let me help!" You yelled and he finally succumbed to you.
You slowly pulled out the arrow and used bandages that Eret had rushed to give you to wrap around his arm carefully. Throughout this whole process Tommy had a face of discomfort and pain until you had successfully bandaged his upper arm so no blood would seep through. Later on you would have to tend to his wounds more delicately.
"Just stay inside!" Fundy yelled in a hurried tone and was angry at the fact someone had already gotten hurt.
This would've been the outcome of the duel if you hadn't followed Wilbur's orders. Either way he would've been injured. Of course they would go for Tommy. Wilbur's right hand man. It was bound to happen. 
You and the rest of the men were clad in netherite or diamond armor and they surrounded Wilbur waiting for another order.
"Tommy I'm putting you in charge of this army." Wilbur said.
Your eyes widened. Didn't Wilbur just say he acted on impulse. This was a bad idea. you were going to die at the hands of the people who gave this opportunity to you.
Wilbur continued, "No matter what happens during this war, no matter who wins and who loses. Just remember that we're on the right side of history."
You have heard that before. What side of history was you on? They have rubbed off on you of course, but with different morals coming from both sides, whose morals do you fit with? If you die, will you be painted in the wrong manner? Are you on the right side as you stand with Eret and Fundy in L'Manburg? Is there even a right side?
"Up the walls we go!" Tommy exclaimed as the group climbed the ladder over the walls.
Your heart was pounding as Tommy led the way towards their next destination. This was going to be very interesting.
----------------
Tommy led us to the destination where the other warriors were on top of a small tower looking down on the L'Manburgians.
"God- whatever we do, don't go up the tower." Tubbo exhaled. 
"We have to get them down to our level. We have to get them to come down on their own accord." Wilbur commanded.
"Those bastards." Tommy said as an arrow made of fire was shot precisely onto the ground.
The floor began to rumble as the ground cracked and smoke began to rise beneath you revealing the red, fiery TNT that blew up from beneath them breaking the very ground and dirt they stood on making everyone lose their balance. Everyone started screaming, scrambling to get away from the constant chain of TNT slipping and falling on the debris, and the crevices that formed. You had started to run faster,and faster, sometimes you fell to your knees because of the ground shaking and breaking underneath you. You couldn’t look back but you heard screaming and you could only hope and pray no one fell into the big canyon the TNT made behind you. Your mind was not catching up your feet as you blindly followed Tommy into his own home, cutting around the whole kingdom. The rest followed close behind making their way into the house. 
Their clothes were tattered and dirty, singes from the fire were on their war uniforms and armor. As they scrambled for safety the arrows kept coming, hitting the house and the ground outside of it. You felt like this was it for you, your first friends, your enemies shooting arrows of fire at you through your so-called enemies house. You had to stay alive though, keep up the act, but right now you didn't really have to keep an act up because you were actually scared for your life.
The grass in front of Tommy's house was burning while the men gave Tommy all of their arrows. Wilbur commanded them to hail them with arrows. Arrows began burning through the walls breaking into their safe haven. To escape this situation Wibur had told all of them to scatter and make it harder for the archers to shoot them. They all did just that, playing on the defensive dodging the arrows that were hurled towards their way. 
Eventually the archers jumped off of the tower retreating towards a nearby river. The L'Manburgians currently had the high ground and You started shooting with arrows purposefully missing so you wouldn't hurt them.
"They are heading to Ponk's tower!" Tommy shouted.
You looked up to one of the highest towers in the kingdom. Damn.
"In that case we need to start heading towards Ponk's tower!" Tubbo yelled, ceasing his arrows trying to get the rest of them to follow his lead.
The men followed Tommy through his shortcuts to get to the base of Ponk's tower faster. Fundy went forward shooting at the others at the base of the tower. You, Eret, Tommy and Tubbo followed Fundy and started shooting and dodging as well. 
For now they have retreated towards the walls of L'Manburg hiding slightly below the top. Wilbur was there at first then the rest of the groups followed. The arrows couldn't reach them and the boys cheerfully pointed that fact out. Soon they had started slowly retreating as the sun went down in the distance. You sighed and cheered with the rest of the men that they finally stopped fire. Your heart still beating fast you looked behind you towards Eret sending each other a knowing glance.
The rest were cheering and complimenting each other until Eret spoke up.
"Gentlemen, I think we need to go back to our home." Eret said.
"I think you're right, Eret." Tommy agreed happily.
They made their way back to L'Manburg into the night with Tommy leading them for the last time tonight. Tommy and Wilbur were playfully bickering through the whole walk back to L'Manburg. It was a fun time filled with laughter and it was much needed after that whole war. Even though they all were beaten and tattered with burn marks and scratches, they kept smiling. It's crazy to think about.
The fun ended for you as they reached their destination. The extended walls of L'Manburg were in their sights and your heart rate picked up even more than it had before. This is the end. 
"Gentlemen in L'Manburg I have a secret weapon." Eret says, sparking a new conversation.
"What is it?" You asked playing dumb. 
"What is it?" Wilbur asked asked as well
"A secret weapon!?" Tubbo exclaimed.
"I feel like Eret is just going to pull out a giant missile." Fundy joked around and your breath hitched. If only they knew.
"But seriously, what do you mean you got a secret weapon?" Tommy spoke fast.
"I've been grinding for equipment, I've been grinding materials." Eret said not to give it away.
"Show us please!" Tommy exclaimed as they all entered L'Manburg once more today.
You joined in as well, "I haven't seen any of this show us Eret!"
You hated lying to them.
----------------
"This is the final control room for you too!" Dream yelled with excitement showing the beautiful dark room. 
The chests were empty, there was a button on top of a podium, and there was a secret room where Dream and the rest would be hiding after the war. The plan was simple enough on paper. The two countries would fight until sun down and then Eret would lead the L'Manburgians to the final control room where he would press the button and then The citizens of L'Manburg would be killed and a life would be taken from them.
Dream has taught You about the life limit. Everyone in the kingdom had three lives and if all three lives were taken, there is no coming back. you felt weary taking away someone's life.
"This is where the battle will end." Dream said calmly
Currently it was just Eret and You with Dream. Dream kept explaining the mechanics of the room while they both listened. You kept slipping in and out of your mind at the moment.
This would be the end, he said. It will all come to an end and you will finally find your place in the huge kingdom. you can finally have closure. It will all come to an end.
"You two are on the right side of history, don't worry. Cause if you do this you'll be doing the kingdom a huge favor."
----------------
"This way." Eret led the group into the final control room.
The men were astonished about the huge tunnel entrance to the room. They continue to rush down the tunnel to catch up to Eret.
"I'm excited to show you!" Eret cheerfully said as he walked. "They will never suspect a thing!" 
They all ended up in the final control room. You made sure to stand next to Eret making sure that they stayed together. you knew where to leave and when the button was pressed but you had a few minutes to play it off.
"WHAT?"  
"This is so cool!"
"What is this place?!"
"There's nothing in the chests." Wilbur said bluntly, as he turned to us still crouching because he opened the chests.
"Eret?" Tubbo asked.
Eret pressed the button and then the wall behind Wilbur opened and revealed Dream, Sapnap, George and Punz. The men started to scream in shock. They were getting attacked. Blood was being spilled and fire was burning down the whole final control room. Eret grabbed your hand pulling you to a secret wall, opening it to reveal stairs that led out of the final control room trying to protect you from getting hurt.
The L'Manburgians fought anyone they saw, but the others knew who specifically to kill. As the L'Manburgians fought for their lives you heard Wilbur yell out over all of the chaos.
"A TRAITOR! GET OUT GET OUT!"
Were you a traitor? Yes you were. They died. The fire around their bodies began to calm as their murders stood over their bodies breathing heavily. There was an orange and purple tint to the room. It looked unreal. This was it. Their bodies began to glow a light blue color and disintegrate showing that one of their lives was taken that day. This was the closure you wanted, but why did it feel like an unfinished symphony? Like it reached the climax of the song then ended.
It's over
Eret saluted to their disintegrating bodies and you followed suit.
"Down with the revolution boys! It was never meant to be."
---------------
Wilbur's POV
"Eret how could you?" We sat on the burnt grass of L'Manburg waiting for one another to show up from being killed. 
This was what I suspected from the beginning. Sadly this is what I suspected from the beginning.
"Hey where's Y/N?!" Tubbo whipped his head frantically looking for her.
"They were a traitor as well." Fundy said sadly.
Tommy and Eret were facing each other. Tommy in L'Manburg's walls and Eret standing a few feet outside of them. It was a beautiful picture at this moment, very symbolic. 
Tubbo was talking to Eret in a distraught voice before Tommy had interrupted him. "Eret listen to me! And I mean this in the nicest way possible. You fucked up." Tommy said harshly to Eret.
Eret only smirked at this like the madman he is and spoke around him, "farewell gentlemen." And he left us in our ruins.
I had such high hopes for the two of them. Especially Y/N. I knew they were trying to find their home, their place in this huge world. Maybe they'll find it with Dream. That's not what I would've wanted, but they might want to stay there. they'll be back, they'll find their home soon.
"We'll meet again. I know you."
taglist: @hi-imuwu​
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imaginesmai · 4 years
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Arvin Russell - The preacher’s sins (1/2)
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Requested by an anon, please enjoy it! It was too long, so I divided it in two parts. I’ll post the next one tomorrow!
Plot: there is nothing bigger for you than the love you feel for Arvin Russell. Not a lot of people can awaken what he does in you, with his cheeky smile and chocolate eyes. Now, a stranger threatens to break that bond, manipulating where it hurts the most.
Warnings: It’s the devil all the time, and you know the preacher. So if you’re reading this, it’s because you’re alright with what’s about to happen. Anyway, violence and manipulation.
Arvin’s car was waiting for you when your shift at the café ended. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face when you thought about the upcoming events; a whole weekend just for the two of you, in your house since your parents were away in a business travel. That meant you could sleep in the same bed, have your own space and dream about finally moving in together. As you crossed the street jogging, your bag hanging from your left shoulder, you thought you could get used to it.
He was smoking, looking ahead and lost in his thoughts. Some wild strands of hair had fallen on his face, making him look a bit more childish that usually. Arvin Russell looked as handsome as ever, and for two whole days, would be handsome only for you.
“Arv” you announced your presence when you climbed in the seat beside him, rubbing your arms in an attempt to get ride of the rain’s coldness.
“Hey, pretty girl”
Arvin dropped his denim jacket over you, and while you put it on, he threw his cigarrete through the window’s car, moving his hand around to get ride of the smoke. Once he made sure you wouldn’t choke with it, he closed the car’s windows and looked at you with a half-smile.
“I can’t believe it’s finally happening” you giggled softly, enjoying that moment of excitement and peace.
“Hope ya haven’ changed your mind” Arvin quickly pressed his lips against your cheek, before starting the car. “How was work?”
As you started talking about a cute dog which owner had let you pet, Arvin drove you to your house. He managed to listen to the story, drive safely and sneak a hand so that he could hold yours.
During most of the weeks, it was hard to see him. He was busy with his family and his part times job, taking what he could to earn a little money. Lenora took a lot of his time too, because she often got picked up by the bullies at highschool and Arvin insisted in picking her up every day. Then, he went with her to the grave yard to visit his mother, and he stayed with her until she finished. Sometimes, he would sneak for a few minutes and come visit you in the café, ordering the cheapest thing in the menu and watching you for afar.
Neither of you had a lot of free time. Your family, humble and hard-working, was also very conservative, so even if they accepted your relationship with Arvin, they didn’t like when he stayed at night. His family didn’t have a lot of free space neither, and if they had they didn’t see with good eyes sleeping together before marriage.
That week hadn’t been different. You had been working every afternoon until the sun came down, and then drove back home. The only difference was that you had been stopping briefly at the church, to talk with the new preacher. You knew Arvin didn’t like him – which was why the mood darkened on the way to your house.
“He ain’t good, Y/N” he grumbled, briefly looking at you.
“You don’t know him, it’s just – he’s new here, he needs a chance to prove himself” you defended. “I know what he did to your grandma was wrong, but we can’t judge him by one mistake!”
“It wasn’ just one mistake. He talks and talks ‘bout how everyone is a sinner but ‘im” Arvin protested.
“Arvin, please” you shifted closer to him and placed a hand on his arm. “It’ll be just a few minutes. He told me he needed my help with something, you don’t even have to see him.”
The preacher, indeed, had told you the previous day that he wanted to meet you in the church on Friday. You hadn’t told him your plans with Arvin, even if he was kind of interrupting your peaceful weekend with your boyfriend; probably, because you knew he wouldn’t approve you spending the night with him.
Deep inside, you knew that Arvin was probably right; he always was at the end, no matter what he was talking about. He was the one who said that the boy who Lenora’s was after wasn’t a good man, and now he had fun chasing her with a bag and awful words. There was something about the preacher that you didn’t like either, but you still didn’t know what. For now, you wanted to be on his good side.
“So? Can we stop?”
“I’d feel better if not” Arvin scoffed. “But I guess that’s a yes”
Arvin stopped on the graveyard, an empty place where the sun was setting already. It was dark and silent, and even you, who wanted to stop, were starting to reconsider the decision. You looked out the window, seeing that the church’s door was open and a dim light could be seen from the inside. Arvin exited the car without another word, and you knew he was pissed. He wasn’t too keen on sharing his feelings, even more when they weren’t of love or happiness.
You had been dating for seven months officially, and it had been ten since he asked you for a date after your shift at the café. There was no way you could make him talk about it and comfort him before the sun disappeared completely, so you decided to ignore him and walk towards the church. Still, before entering you looked back, half expecting him to be ready to leave and pick you later. But he had lighted up another smoke and was leaning against the car, looking to his feet.
Much less happier than before, you entered the church. You wanted nothing more than Arvin to be happy, and if you were up to wish anything, for him to have a better relationship with the rest of Knockemstiff; starting with the preacher.
He was sitting in the first row, reading from a small book. The faint lights you had seen came from the candles, which made the place much more scarier than usually. You didn’t think anything about it, not even when you made yourself heard by calling him and he told you to close the door. It was a cold, October day, so you guessed there was nothing wrong with it. After looking at Arvin once more, and receiving no smiles, you closed the door behind you.
“What did you want me for, preacher?”
“Come sit with me, Y/N” he patted the bench beside him, and you approached him. “You ever read the bible?”
“Um, a little. Lenora reads to me sometimes, a-and from what I hear on Sundays” you explained, not really wanting to say it out loud.
The truth was that you had never learned how to read. You had had to drop out of highschool at a young age because your mother had fallen ill, and your father couldn’t manage the family business on his own. With no money to buy books or material, your father had you help in on the shop. You were good with numbers, from years of experience, and you were starting to know what some words were written like thanks to Lenora and Arvin. But not a lot of people in Knockemstiff knew that you didn’t write the orders down in the café because you didn’t know how.
The preacher hummed, finally raising his eyes from the small book on his lap. He shifted closer to you, until you were sure you could hear his heartbeat. He showed you what he had been so focused on, and while you knew some of the letters, it all looked like garbage.
“This is my favourite part” he said, his voice soft but with a sharp edge. “Mom used to read it to me every night, too. You know it?”
“U-um, yeah” you said. Quickly, you tried to search for a word that you could understand. Lenora always read to you a passage of the bible when you went to their house, and maybe you could know what was it about. However, the preacher closed the bible before you had time to find it.
“God is merciful and benevolent, Y/N” he stretched one arm behind your shoulders, and you felt tears run to your eyes when you understood he knew it. It wasn’t something to be ashamed of – Arvin had managed to convince you it wasn’t, but you felt embarrassment crawl through your spine. “He forgives us all, all of our sins. But you know what is what he doesn’t forgive? Lies”
The back of your hair was grabbed with so much force that you emitted a low cry. If the door had been open, maybe Arvin would have heard you. But he angrily pacing around the graveyard, thinking about how he shouldn’t be so hard with you, and you were too afraid and embarrassed to scream any louder.
You were met with the preacher’s hard eyes, hateful and unforgivable. The back of your head throbbed from how hard he was gripping it, and finally a lonely tear made its way down your cheek. It seemed to offend him more, because he squeezed harder.
“You think you’re worthy of stepping into this temple?” he hissed, his hot breath making you shudder. “You think I wouldn’t find out that you can’t read? Or that you spend the nights with that boyfriend of yours?”
“Preacher –“
“Shut the fuck up!”
The nice man who you had been talking to the rest of the week disappeared in thin air, and you were thrown to the ground with a force you didn’t know the kind preacher had. A small cry of pain left your lips as your right wrist bent awkwardly against the edge of the bench, and you tried to move away. But the preacher had other ideas, because he hoisted you up until his face was inches away from you again.
You were sure he would just bash your head against the bench and Arvin would only have your cold body for the weekend when his face morphed, and that calm that always surrounded him was back. He sat on the bench again, and put his head against his hands, as if he was in deep thinking. Before you could think about running out of there screaming Arvin’s name, the preacher talked.
“Get naked”
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mxvladdy · 4 years
Text
Diavolo- True Form
Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.
Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 
Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!
Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 
Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 
Diavolo-
He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.
No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.
Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.
But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.
On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.
The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.
Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .
You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.
He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.
You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.
Mini Fic
He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.
Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.
The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.
Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.
He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.
It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  
"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.
He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.
Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."
Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.
Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.
It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.
You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.
Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.
"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."
"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"
"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."
With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"
The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.
It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.
Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.
The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.
"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.
“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.
A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.
He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.
Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.
Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.
“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”
Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.
The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”
“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.
“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.
“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”
“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.
“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.
As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.
You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.
Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  
He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.
You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  
Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.
“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.
“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.
You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.
The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.
“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”
That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.
“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”
“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.
“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  
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wincore · 4 years
Text
sweet tooth | dong sicheng
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pairing: vampire!sicheng x reader
words: 2.8k
summary: out of all the inconveniences a vampire boyfriend could pose, there’s about two tonight: a) him losing it at the next person who compliments his fangs, or b) you losing it at sicheng’s 100% blood alcohol content
genre: vampire!au, boyfriend!au, college!au, (tooth-rotting) fluff, comfort, humour
warning(s): mentions of blood, alcohol consumption, college halloween parties
song rec(s): candy - baekhyun // wish you were sober - conan gray
a/n: let’s pretend it’s halloween pls <3 also im sorry it’s so short and more drabble-ish but i wanted to write something gentle and comforting so!!! yeah ^^ also there is no plot. eep.
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It’s two in the morning.
Or rather, it feels like two in the morning. 
A frat party is a horrible substitute for an actual Halloween party. The alcohol content is through the roof and the number of pairs making out is enough to make you feel queasy. You never knew horror themes had the innate ability to make people so flagrantly horny—you’re half glad you’re not, god forbid, single. Most of your friends were too busy, however, to organize the close-knit party you usually have each year—so here you are, with an invitation from a friend of a friend (of a friend). Your boyfriend might be the only one feeling more out of place than you are.
You glance at Sicheng from the pool table, the cup frozen against his lips while his eyes scan the room from corner to corner. You don’t do crowds and neither does he; though he does have the unwitting ability to charm any crowd he’s in. You’re not quite sure if he’s still unaware of that.
You watch as a girl you can easily recognize from your campus approach him, all smiles and giggles. She says something and you scoff, almost completely certain about what it is she said.
Sicheng might be unaware of it—but you are, and painfully so.
She looks at him starry-eyed and the scent of rum wafting around her. A part of her jacket is off her shoulder, a faint blush covering her cheeks that you can spot even under the dim lights. She’s definitely flirting—you know that because rumours go around faster than assignments in this university. Choi Joohee has a very public, very open crush on your boyfriend.
It’s not like it bothers you. Not at all.
Just a little bit.
Jealousy has never been your thing and you’re half certain what you’re feeling isn’t even jealousy—just a taste of alcohol and the proximity of a Halloween house party.
Speaking of which, the only thing harrowing about this place is the amount of alcohol everyone seems to be consuming—including your boyfriend. Ten dragged Yukhei home a while ago and a part of you is still not confident enough to handle a boyfriend with very pointy fangs and midnight cravings for blood (or juice, as Ten disgustingly phrases it). 
Sicheng nods along to something Joohee asks, an eyebrow raised quizzically on her and you assume he’s been zoning out the whole time. The urge to laugh surfaces and you swallow it whole. He’s so cute, even in this state. The lights dance across his face; candy blue, rich purple, saccharine red. The colours don’t help him stand any straighter, or slur his words any less.
You think it’s time to help your boyfriend out. However, the moment you walk through the swarms over to them, Joohee’s face sours. Of course, as the only competition (is it a competition if you’ve already won?) to the object of her affections, you don’t rank too high in her books. It made you a little upset at first, but you got used to it. (“She’ll get over it,” Sicheng had reassured several times. “Don’t worry.”)
People grow, and with that thought, you let it be.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Joohee tells Sicheng and walks away, like he’s supposed to follow her.
You roll your eyes and turn to Sicheng, who’s had a very delayed response to Joohee’s departure. His head is tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded and you’re almost afraid he’s going to drop to the floor right there and then. This is bad. The thing about vampires is that they absolutely should not, under any circumstance, have alcohol. Calling your boyfriend a lightweight is beyond an understatement.
“Sicheng,” you call softly. 
He turns to you, taking a moment to process, before pulling his lips into a wide smile. His fangs poke out even when he presses his lips back together, a contemplatory look over him.
“I thought you left me here.” He forces a sardonic smile.
Drunk off his ass and Sicheng still manages to be annoyingly sarcastic.
You open your mouth and close it again. It’s not like you can chide him without letting your fondness show. The Adonis features that grace his face don’t help. Flushed all the way to the neck, a drunk Dong Sicheng is very rare. The last time this happened must have been at least two years ago (and though you weren’t there then, the way Ten and Kun freeze up at the slightest mention, you decided to not ask).
“Why did you drink?” you ask, huffing. “You can’t even smell alcohol.”
There’s a short pause.
“Because you were ignoring me,” he replies, leaning in.
Heat washes into your cheeks. You forgot how unrestrained he gets with alcohol in his system.
Sicheng seems to have enough consciousness left in him to feel somewhat embarrassed, standing up straight and fiddling with his thumbs. You slip your hand into his without delay and pull, trying your best to navigate through the crowd. Is an ordinary Halloween party too much to ask for? Just when you can finally spot the front door, Sicheng stops abruptly, making you stumble backwards into his chest. He smells like the old deodorant he’s been using for a year underneath the smell of beer and… is that blood?
“Where are we going?” he asks sharply.
“Home, Sicheng,” you whine. “You can stay in my bed.”
He stays rooted in place stubbornly, and you wonder what it is now. This is the time you have to wonder if you’re dating a (potentially) immortal creature or a recently birthed baby.
“We should enjoy more. You’ve hardly smiled the past few weeks,” he mutters.
Your heartbeat spikes for a moment, when he brushes the hair from your face. All this time and he hasn’t changed the words he offers to you in private, the care on his lips and fingertips. A room full of people who aren’t listening is the best place to talk.
The first time you saw Sicheng was in the middle of the night, in the dark hallway of your shared apartment building, blood staining his jaw from a bag he’d acquired from med student Wong Kunhang. (You’re very sure that’s illegal.)
Needless to say, you’d fainted immediately after. When you came to, you were met with a man with pretty eyes and fangs poking out his mouth and in a bed that wasn’t yours. There was no blood this time but you screamed anyway, cut off by the man’s hand over your mouth.
“Calm down,” he said, voice surprisingly deep. “It’s not like I’m going to kill you.”
“You were planning to kill me?” you asked, panicking.
“I just said I wouldn’t,” he replied quietly, eyes wide and almost as stressed as you are.
Sicheng heaves a sigh, massaging his forehead. You shake yourself off the memories, tugging at his shirt so you can sit somewhere at least. The alcohol must have numbed his ears too. The low R&B tunes make no sense on Halloween night; even less when they’re played a few bars above the acceptable volume. If you’re not out of here soon, you might lose your hearing altogether.
The couch is slightly less stinky than you would have expected. (You grimace as you think to the last time you were at a frat party and in particular, the vomit.) Beside you, Sicheng mumbles about something you’re not quite sure of, a quiet rant with one-track emotions. It makes you giggle and for a moment, you forget the predicament of being stuck with a drunk vampire boyfriend who has just finished teething.
“Hey, guys.”
You look up to see Jihoon, the very friend of a friend (of a friend) who had invited you to this mess. It’s not like you harbour ill feelings towards him; but the guy has approximately zero ability to read the room. It’s mostly funny.
Sicheng makes a vague gesture that you assume means ‘hello’, sitting up straight so he doesn't look noticeably tipsy. You make light conversation with Jihoon, Sicheng’s arm around your waist tightening reflexively. You don’t plan on party-hopping, no matter how much Jihoon urges the two of you—seriously, does he not see the look on Sicheng’s face? He looks more zombie than vampire.
“You know, you don’t actually have to wear costumes for this, right? We didn’t set a theme,” Jihoon remarks, tilting his head to face your boyfriend. “The fangs are really cool, though. Holy shit. Dude, they look so real.”
Sicheng’s lips twitch but he forces them into a smile, trying to move as far away from Jihoon as possible. The fangs are usually not out and about in the open, slightly retracted during the day. The night, however, keeps him on edge. Sicheng hates the spotlight that only ever shows up for the wrong reasons, and he’d much rather graduate without having to deal with horny vampire-lovers. (It’s not that sexy; and you know from experience.) 
The way Sicheng looks makes you wonder how many people have pointed out the fangs tonight. You purse your lips to keep yourself from laughing.
“Thanks,” he responds, voice his usual deep baritone. 
Jihoon leaves after being unable to draw any more conversation out of Sicheng, some peace gracing you despite everything.
If you ever write a book on how to deal with vampire boyfriends, the first rule would be to never kiss him at night. The fangs are not as withdrawn then and they hurt. (The second is, of course, to never let them get a whiff of alcohol.)
When Sicheng first kissed you, it was midnight and you were at the convenience store to buy a few lunchboxes and instant coffee mix. You’d yelped when his fang had pricked your lower lip, alarming the worker and around fifteen minutes of (dishonest) explanation later, the two of you had left without buying what you came for.
After fretting for a while, Sicheng had kissed you once more with careful consideration—till the damn fangs got in the way again. It was sweet for a moment—like candy—though, the metallic taste of blood had invaded it afterwards. No matter how awkward or painful it was, your elation outweighed the rest. 
Kisses weren’t the only thing interrupted by fangs.
The turtlenecks and scarves certainly raised an eyebrow in your circle of friends. There was concern at first, then teasing and then a whole lot of inside jokes which made you want to smack each and every one of them. (“They’re hickeys, I swear, not vampire bites,” you had informed Ten. “Ew. I did not need to know that.” “Shut up.”)
Even so, Sicheng is warm—always has been, and not on the skin.  
You feel pressure on your shoulder, his hair tickling your neck and you adjust yourself so it’s more comfortable. 
“Tired?” you ask.
“Not at all.”
You shake your head at his lie. Gently pushing his head away, you get up from your seat and pull him up with all of your strength. Linking your arm through his, you smile at him when he raises an eyebrow. It’s time to get home, you’ve decided and these are times when one vote is enough. 
When you reach the front door, stumbling out with your suddenly talkative boyfriend, the autumn breeze hits you. Under the moonlight, the rosy hue over his cheeks is clearer and even more so when he smiles.
“It’s like our first date,” he says. 
You smile back at him.
“You were so embarrassing,” he adds.
Your smile drops and you smack his arm, eliciting a soft complaint from him.
Your first date was the only normal thing in this relationship—a date at the amusement park on Halloween, a bunch of kids mistaking your now boyfriend for Count Dracula and caramel popcorn smeared over your fingers. 
Sicheng sighs, lowering his head to rest his forehead against your shoulder. The two of you stay like that for a moment or two, the party music finally fading and Sicheng’s warmth seeping into you. You fix the lapels of his jacket absentmindedly, fingers tracing over the material. His hands rest lightly against your back yet still secure. 
A kitten lick at your neck jolts you back to reality. You gently push him by the shoulders, finding his fangs bared already. He stays unmoving for a few seconds before closing his mouth and going back to leaning against you, breath falling in waves against your neck.
“I’m not your juicebox, Sicheng,” you snap, frown deepening.
“But you have so much blood,” he mumbles, his forehead hot against your shoulder.
“Sicheng.”
He sobers up a little, pulling back with a stream of pouting apologies. You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling. Despite everything, your boyfriend is such a child sometimes. There’s a short pause.
“But wait, don’t go biting someone else’s neck,” you quickly add, flustered.
Sicheng suppresses a smile.  
“So I can have a little—”
“No.”
Sicheng pouts but agrees enough to follow you, the two of you moving soundlessly over the sidewalk. Being alone with him has always been easing; you don’t need a crowd for comfort. 
With fingers interlaced, you walk alone with him as the orange street lights cast shadows on the buildings lined up. A few more blocks and you’ll reach your apartment, get to push Sicheng into bed and pray he doesn’t throw up at your front door—and yet still, you walk as slow as you can as if the autumn wind will be gone as quick as it arrived.
The number of people shrink the further you get from the party, and you heave a sigh of relief, glad to be away from, what you and your friends call, the rich neighbourhood. The familiar path to your apartment, no matter the pricing, has much better air to breathe in. It’s past midnight and yet, you can see the city lights in the distance, the ones that never sleep—for the living or the dead.
Something runs into your legs and you jump onto Sicheng, who in turn flinches away with a strangled yelp. 
You look down to see a giant golden retriever in a white blanket which you assume is meant to be a ghost outfit. It wags its tail, sniffing around your boyfriend’s legs, making him giggle as he crouches down to pet the creature.
“I’m so sorry!” 
You look up to find a young girl holding a pumpkin almost as large as her head, an apologetic look over her head. Some part of you is happy to see a costume, considering you were robbed of yours. (Sometimes you dream of matching costumes but again, the damn fangs.)
“Piri loves people, I’m so sorry if he bothered—oh hey dude, cool fangs.”
Sicheng offers the fakest smile ever, accompanied with a thumbs up gesture. You sigh, apologizing to the girl before parting ways. 
“That’s the eighth time tonight,” Sicheng says, scowling almost. “I counted.”
You laugh, squeezing his hand. Calm, relaxed Dong Sicheng tends to lose it at repetitive comments with only three sips of beer.
When you reach the apartment building, clouds cover the moon and you draw your jacket closer to yourself. You think for a moment about the inevitability of time and whether you’re even allowed to fall in love this way. You push the thoughts aside almost inevitably. When the time comes, you will have a decision to make—and after everything, it is love which turns people. 
For now, you can enjoy this Halloween night with your (literally) one-of-a-kind boyfriend.
You fumble around with the keys, Sicheng looking at you with sleepy eyes as he leans against the wall. He must be worn out from the alcohol by now.
“Hey,” he calls, the words more muffled than usual. 
You raise an eyebrow, tugging him inside all the while maintaining your balance.
“You know my favourite blood type?” he continues.
You shake your head. “If you’re thinking of feeding, I’ll get some blood bags from Kunhang.”
Sicheng pouts. “You ruined the line.”
“Huh?”
“Yours. Yours is my favourite blood type.”
Despite the terrible execution of his so-called pick-up line, you find yourself shaking with laughter. You’re not sure if it’s the late night or the October air—the two of you share the silliest of laughter at the doorway to your apartment.
Within the moment itself, Sicheng leans in to kiss you and your hands move to run through his hair out of habit. The taste of beer and the prick of his fangs makes you pull away. You look at each other for a moment before you give in anyway and kiss him against the doorframe.
October ends with memories—your first date, Sicheng’s cooking disaster, and now this. It’s blissful for the few moments the two of you let it be. That is, until Sicheng opens his mouth.
“Oh, by the way, can you apologize to Ten for me? I think I bit him thinking it was you.”
“Sicheng, what the fuck?”
October ends with proximity, sweet as candy and warm as toast—stumbling into bed with all that and more.
364 notes · View notes
peachiikawa · 4 years
Text
Fly | Route Selected: O. Tooru
genre: mafia au, choose your own adventure
warnings: honestly nothing too bad in this route
word count: 3.1k
Fly Masterlist
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“I choose--”
But before you could even finish your sentence, the front door opened and an arm draped around your shoulders
“They’ll be with me”
You looked to see who had just walked in and were stunned to see such a beautiful man
“Very funny oikawa, now let them go. This is a personal matter”
Daichi took a step forward and you could feel the tension in the air
But the silence was broken with a chuckle from oikawa
“Dont worry so much daichi. They arent just a threat to you theyre a threat to the entire community so to make your burden easier ill gladly take them in. you have better things to worry about anyways”
The smile on his face was far from a friendly one
Even you could tell it was a bit condescending and it made you a bit scared
He led you out the door but not before turning his head one last time
“Tell your old man seijou gives their regards”
With that he led you to his car and got you buckled in
“Now where do you live..?”
“My name is y/n and i live down the street and around the block”
He drove you home and made sure you got into your apartment
“Come in tomorrow whenever youd like, preferable before noon though. Heres my card if you have any questions. Goodnight y/n!”
He kept the conversation brief and didnt look back as he left
As soon as you closed the door you leaned against it and slid down onto the ground
Just what had you gotten yourself into?
You couldnt really sleep that night knowing that in the morning you were going to be working with the mafia
So you took an early shower and got to the address on the card oikawa gave you the night before around eight o’clock
You took a nervous breath before walking into the gigantic corporate building
‘Seijoh Industries’
The company had a long reputation of being in the modeling and fashion industry
It scared you to think that so many big companies were involved in who knows what else
You pushed the glass doors open and immediately got lost
Like how do you even navigate the inside of this building???
It wasnt long before you got stopped
...by some guy with blonde hair with lines in them
Was he trying to look like a tennis ball??
As he steps toward you you take one back until youre against a wall
“What the fuck are you doing here? Youd better leave. Now”
You feel like your stomach is about to drop before you hear that all too familiar voice
“Maddog what are you doing to y/n! Its their first day you shouldnt be so mean”
Oikawa grabbed your hand and led you down the hall to a pristine office
He sat down behind his desk and organized a few papers for you
“Youre here bright and early. I was half expecting you to just not show up”
His eyes glanced up from the papers in his hands for a brief moment
“But im glad you did it would have been a..hassle to find you”
The way that sentence came out of his mouth with that smile on his face sent a shiver down your back
He handed you a few papers and a list of tasks to do
Most of which consisted of you running errands and organizing some cabinets around the building
“Finish those and if you get done with that before the end of the day you can do whatever. Just dont poke your nose where it doesnt belong”
The smile on his face never left once your entire conversation and it left you with a weird feeling in your gut
As you turned to leave you just couldnt shake the weird feeling you got every time you saw it
But you went on your way, trying not to think about it too hard
You did each task with ease and you really thought that some of them were a bit unnecessary since most of the things on the list were already done
It was almost therapeutic doing normal things, it at least made you feel less nervous
It didnt take you long before you finished your tasks
“Hey you”
You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and slowly turned towards a man with short and spiky brown hair
He held out a couple of papers to you
“I need you to make a few copies of these and then bring them to trashykawa”
Your eyebrows furrowed and he noticed your confusion
“I mean Oikawa. Sorry, force of habit. Im Iwaizumi by the way. I work over in communications''
You fumbled with the papers in your hands, trying to get a grip before he noticed how nervous you were
His sharp eyes were fixed on you which made you even more self-conscious 
You let out a shaky breath before introducing yourself
“Im y/n. Its my first day working here”
He nodded his head
“Yeah well just lay low if you want to survive this mess. Ill see you later y/n.”
A few weeks go by and it seems to be the same thing filling your days
This place wasnt as scary as you first thought and everyone seemed nice enough
The beeping from the copy machine brought you back to reality from your daydream and headed back to oikawas office
Though you had been here for almost a month now, it never got easier to be around him
Something was just too off putting about him
You took a deep breathe before knocking on the door to which you got a muffled “come in”
He didnt look up as you set the papers on his desk and only looked back up at you when he didnt hear your leave
He took off the glasses he was wearing and set them down in front of him
“Can i help you with something?”
Again, that smile on his face just...didnt feel right
“I was done with my work, is there anything else I can do for you?”
He just shook his head
“That should be it for me! Why dont you go see if iwa needs anything?”
You could tell that he wanted nothing more than to have just a moment to himself
And the constant flow of people probably didnt help
“This might be bold of me to say but that smile you wear around people...you dont need to put up any false pretenses around me. I know my situation and I know it isnt all sunshine and rainbows so feel free to be yourself around me. So one last time, before I go, do you need anything?”
His eyes were wide at what you just said
You had only been here for what? A few weeks? With minimal contact as well
So how did you notice?
The only other person whos ever called him out on it was iwaizumi
And he hated being read like this but he kept that smile up
“Nope im fine”
You nodded and left, closing the door behind you
And as soon as you did he threw his pen down on his desk and held his head in his hands
How...how did you see through him
He had carefully made this mask of his so that no one would be able to see how he was feeling
Emotions were a weakness
He didnt need them
And he sure as hell didnt need you
The next week he made it his mission to completely ice you out
No contact at all
And it made you kind of frustrated
The man steals you away from the other mafia you almost became affiliated with and just throws you to the side?
So you went to him after him doing whatever he could to make sure he avoided you
The man literally had tennis-head outside of his office to scare you away
“What are you doing”
The sudden voice behind you almost made you scream
“Oh iwaizumi! Dont scare me like that!”
You smacked his shoulder as you two hid around the corner from oikawas office
“If you must know im trying to get into oikawas office. I'm sick of his avoiding me like im the plague”
Iwaizumi let out a deep sigh
He knew why oikawa was avoiding you
And he also thought it was a little much
Wasnt it about time he stopped being scared?
“Tell you what y/n, ill distract kenta and while i do you can sneak into oikawas office”
Your eyes sparkled and he almost wanted to laugh
“Really?!” 
He nodded and patted your head
“Get that idiot out of his funk”
He then walked up to kenta and walked off with him, giving you a thumbs up behind his back
And when they were out of sight you knocked on oikawas door and didnt wait for him to respond before barging in
To say he was shocked was an understatement
“What are you-”
“Stop. Before you go on about how youre busy just please listen to me. I dont know what i did to deserve this amount of avoidance but if its about what i said that day, i dont regret what i said. And i wish you would stop avoiding your problems and just confront them”
Confront his problems?
What the hell do you know about his problems
“So you came in here to tell me that? What the fuck do you know about me? Youre just some street rat that poked their nose where it didnt belong. You dont know me so stop trying to tell me what to fucking do! Emotions make you weak and i dont need that”
At this point he had you backed against a wall
And when he realized what just happened he pushed himself away from you
God what the hell was he even doing
Hes spent years perfecting his facade
And then you come barging in and it just breaks?
You slowly approached him and put a hand on his shoulder
“See? Was that so bad? Honestly, seeing you like that was refreshing. Feel free to keep the mindset that emotions make you weak, i wont try to convince you otherwise. Thats a realization you need to make on your own but for now please dont hold back around me”
For the first time in a while oikawas heart stood still, almost as if he could feel himself again
“Whatever. I still have paperwork to do so leave or make yourself useful”
He shrugged your hand off of him and went back to his desk
You just smiled and nodded your head
“Ill be back with a coffee for you!”
And when you exited you bumped into the back of kentarou
“Ah sorry! Ill be back!”
As you ran off kenta took a step toward you
“What the hell..get back here!”
But before he could take another oikawa cleared his throat
“You can leave your post mad-dog. Youre no longer needed here”
Kenta nodded his head but was too shocked to move for a moment, caught off guard by the small smile that lingered on his boss’ face
The couple weeks after that you were allowed back in his office and he even started to request your presence at times for no other reason than he just wanted you to sit in the room with him
And that smile he used to give you was now replaced by a soft, genuine smile that made your heart flutter
Little things started to become more noticeable to you
Like how cute it was when he pouted his lips when he was really focused
And honestly he was too
Your smile was maddening
And your laugh made him feel like he was being swallowed whole, unable to breath
It scared him
Nothing good has ever happened when he became emotionally attached to someone
“Oikawa, are you okay?”
You put your hand up to his forehead and checked for a fever
He could feel his cheeks heating up and gently swatted your hand away
“No im fine. Dont worry about me”
He watched your face fill with concern and his heart lurched forward
This feeling...it scared him. But for now, if its you, hes willing to see where this goes
“Good morning oikawa!”
You walked into his office with his morning coffee which he gladly took from your hands
“Good morning y/n”
He had a job later and needed all the energy he could get
But not before having his morning conversation with you
“I'm leaving around noon with maki and mattsun. Iwa’s in charge till i get back so if you need anything ask him”
You could tell by the way he was talking that it was something serious and therefore probably something to do with the mafia
Sure you had done a few things for Seijoh like fax some papers and have oikawa sign a few things but nothing to where oikawa needed to leave has ever come up
He could see anxiety cloud over your face
“Hey”
He grabbed your hand and gave it a small squeeze
“I’ll be fine. You have nothing to worry about, okay?”
You nodded your head
“Please be safe”
Worry reflected in your eyes and it made him almost go weak
All he could do was nod and give a half smile
The entire time he was away you sat at his desk anxiously waiting for his return
...
“Cough up the money oikawa. We had a deal”
Oikawa looked at the man in front of him with his trademark empty smile
“That wasnt our deal. Now give us what you owe”
The room was tense but nothing that oikawa hasnt dealed with before
But his world soon turned upside down with what was thrown on the table that stood between them next
The color drained from his face as he looked at pictures taken of you without anyone knowing
“Where the hell did you get these”
The man in front of him just laughed
“Now thats an interesting expression oikawa. Never thought id see the day where that smile of yours wasnt on your face”
His knuckles were turning white from how hard he was clenching his fists
“You know, it would almost be a shame if something were to happen to them”
Oikawas eyes widened in fear
It felt as if time around him had stopped for this one moment
And it made him want to puke
“Dont you dare lay a hand on them”
His jaw was so tense that he thought he was about to pop a blood vessel
“Then give us the money”
He wasnt left with much of a choice
So he did what he was told
“See? Was that so hard?”
“Are we done here?”
He was itching to get back as soon as possible
To make sure you were okay
He couldnt rest until he knew you were fine
“Yes now leave”
The car ride seemed to last forever, maki and mattsun had never seen their boss like this and exchanged subtle glances the entire ride
As soon as the car stopped he ran into the building and to your desk
And when he saw you werent there his heart dropped
‘Where are you, y/n?!’
The only other place you could be was his office
He slammed his door open only to see you jump up from his desk, the sleep in your eyes still evident
He let out the breath he didnt even know he was holding as soon as his eyes landed on you
He went straight over to you and pulled you into his arms
The tightness of the hold around you was comforting yet alarming
You brought your arms up to wrap around him and you swear you could feel him slightly shaking
“Oikawa?”
You voice was soft and made him feel weak in the knees
“Just…let me stay like this for a moment”
After that day you were moved into his home and he never left your side
He never fully explained what happened that day
But you knew it had shaken him
Especially since you havent seen his smile since then
You were escorted everywhere
And when you asked why you were only given the short answer of “i said i’d guard you so i'm doing that”
You didnt mind being with him, really
If anything you liked being able to be with him all the time
You just hoped you werent being a hindrance
So one night as you laid in bed while oikawa sat on the ground next to you leaning against the bed frame, you turned towards him
He had been doing this lately to “guard” you and you knew he wasnt sleeping much
“Oikawa”
His eyes immediately met yours
“Am i being a burden on you?”
Though it was dark, he could hear the sadness in your voice
“I just feel like ive been holding you back lately and thats the last thing i want to do”
He cupped your face with his hand and gently stroked your cheek
“Not to mention that you havent smiled once since coming back that day and it just all feels very distant and lonesome. I hope you know that you can talk to me, i’ll never judge you for anything”
And in those few simple words the gate that had been holding back all of his emotions back suddenly broke
“y/n im scared”
His head hung low as his lips trembled
“Im scared to lose you and im scared that ive become weak since being with you but i just cant let you go. Losing you makes me feel more terrified than anything else”
The thought of losing you made it feel as if he was drowning and the water was filling his lungs with a burning sensation
You sat up in your bed and took his hand in yours
“Then why dont you turn that fear into strength? Hiding me...putting me under 24 hour surveillance...its no different than running. I dont want to be away from you either oikawa”
How did you always clear his head? It was like your words just made everything make sense
He made his way onto your bed and started to kiss you, soft yet hungry for more
He could never get enough of you
You made his heart full
And you became his strength
You made him strong and he could never forget this debt
taglist:  @the-ironic-me @multisun @my-mass-hysteria @sugawsites @youbloodylegendyoudidit @sinthxy @celamoon​ @tinymouth @fait-de-fleurs @tsukifanbase​ @69owo​ @laglyssage @hearteyeskags​ @ntngann​ @shnnn​ @fukuro-dani-ace​​ @exponentially-tired​​ @soy1melk​
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Part One. Preview at the Bottom
Bakugo is a underground Cage fighter, he comes home every morning around 3AM, hurt, bloody and pockets full of money. He does all of this to support you , his daughter. His coach, Aizawa warns him of the dangers that come with being a underground fighter but he never listens .
W! Brief violence, cursing.
Wanna see more of this? Lemme know!
Tags. @galagcica @squeaky-ducky @thesimpsclub @waffleareniceandfluffy @silentw-lkr
Katsuki was holding his own against this over confident man. His only advantage was that he was taller than Katsuki and was able to step out of the way just in time, sometimes he would jump back to showboat and it just pissed Katsuki off more. He hated these fixed fights, letting the other guy have his moment, and for what? For someone to bet more money on them? Katsuki jogged back to where Aizawa was and felt him reach through the cage to tug his shorts.
“You gotta go down till till 8 Katsuki, dont forget”
“Shut up..” he muttered under his breath moving back to the center , feeling even more angry.
The rounds went on, Katsuki was winning most of them and the final round was coming up, everyone had their money on Katsuki , he could care less who bet on him, as long as he got his share it did not matter.
The final round was upon them and Katsuki went down just like he was supposed to. The counting started and he was only half paying attention, Hanta was walking around with his fists up taking in the cheers and Katsuki was thinking about his daughter.
Dammit.. I hate this..
FOUR!!
Y/N is going to want to go to the park when she realizes im home…
FIVE!!
Maybe i can get Aizawa to take her so i can sleep…
SIX!!!
The rent is coming up , i need that 600…
SEVEN!!!
He turned his head slightly to see red hair and familiar blond hair.
EIGHT!!!
The fuck are they doing here…
Katsuki pulled himself up surprising Hanta, the blond smirked wiping the cut on his lip and throwing a hard punch sending the man into the cage knocking him out.
The bell was rung and everyone cheered with excitement. Katsuki spit a tooth out at the knocked out body as he exited the cage meeting up with Aizawa. His hands hurt and his bandages were red now .
“Great job.” Aizawa told him, giving him a towel
“Wheres my 600” he said, taking the towel to wipe his face.
“You got up to fast!!!” it was a familiar voice, squeaky like nails on a chalkboard. “So you get 300”
The towel was slowly dragged down revealing very angry eyes, oh. It was her..
She was tall, blond hair, expensive clothes and a bitchy face. His ex wife.
“Excuse me? Yuki ?”
She gave him and Aizawa a smug look. “You were supposed to make Hanta look good and thats not what you did!”
“I let that fuckin tree win five rounds what the hell are you talking about!!!”
Aizawa rubbed his neck watching this unfold, the red head came over in a flash too to grab Yuki.
“Yuki thats enough, go wait for me in the car”
“Hmph! If only you had a real job like Eijiro!” she flipped her hair at Katsuki walking away. She didn't even ask how her daughter was..
“Ka-”
“Get the fuck away from me Eijiro! You wanna take my daughter away too ? steal her like you did my wife?”
Eijiro stepped back, rubbing his neck and looking around the room then up at the cage. Hanta was limping out with help from some people. His eyes wavered back to the angry blond in front of him and he spoke low. “I just want to know if Yuki gave you the -”
“Fuck off Eijiro, lets go Aizawa” and with that the two made it too the exit. Passing a few people who congratulated Katsuki on his win, a hooded man caught his attention for a minute as they left, he had a black hoodie on with jeans, red sneakers. It looked like his hair was blue white. He had a sinister smile on his face.
“Nice job” the hooded man said.
“Whatever.” and just like that the two were gone.
Eijiro was still in the arena collecting his things from his sales and found Yuki by the car stomping her foot out of anger.
“Its cold!” she told him.
“So sit in the car.. I gave you the keys…” he watched Aizawa drive off then looked back at Yuki.
“Did you give Katsuki the child support i gave you?”
“Obviously! Jesus Eijiro why do you think so low of me?”
He tilted his head. “ i dont, im just asking bec-”
“Because you think im not giving him it?! Why would i do that?! “
“I .. i dont..-”
“Take me home, im tired.”
“Sure.. its been a long night.” he sighed going around the car, shielding his eyes from the rising sun getting in.
Yuki pat her purse peaking in at the $600 in child support. She grinned getting in and closing the door.
*
Katsuki arrived home around 5 AM, his first stop was the landlord office to drop off the rest of the rent only for the landlord to tell him hes short $150. Aizawa paid the rest and the office informed them both he would have to raise the rent because of nearby crimes and thefts. Katsuki was furious, he always took $50 home to keep in his safe and this week he could not take anything home. It was his Better Home For Y/N money. He had been saving for a year and was so close to being ready to move. But now it just seemed like it was even farther away.
Katsuki said nothing on the walk home with Aizawa, the tired man knew better than to say anything about the rent. He knew Katsuki hated when Aizawa had to help out, Izuku already helped out with groceries …
The door opened and Katsuki saw you asleep on Izukus chest, who was also asleep on the couch. He rolled his eyes walking over and picking you up to hug you tight waking you up.
“...mnng papa? PAPA IS HOME!!!” you hugged your father asking him a bunch of silly questions and if you could go to the park.
“Ugn.. Y/n , let me sleep first. “ he sat you on the counter to wash his hands in the sink. Izuku woke up too and rubbed his head sitting up . he waved to Aizawa awkwardly.
“But i wanna go NOW!” you pouted and felt a hand on your head.
“y/n i bought you new clothes”
“Mr Tired Man!!!” you jumped down to hug Aizawas legs all excited.
“I wanna see!!!!”
“Okay okay, come with me, ill take you too the park too “
“Yay!!! Papa im goin with Mr Tired Man!!!”
“At 5 in the morning? Whatever.” he bumped the sink off grabbing a towel Izuku brought him, the green haired man could tell Katsuki was upset, but he knew to wait till you were gone to ask anything.
Aizawa picked you up giving you hugs and tickling you with his stubble enjoying the laughs he pulled out of you, he left the apartment closing the door.
“Fucking Yuki cheated me, the rent is going up and im sick of letting these losers have their time to shine” Katsuki told him, he threw the towel on his counter to lean on it, arms folded.
Izuku recached into his pocket just for Katsuki to shoot him a look , “ i dont want your money, Izuku”
“What are you going to do then?”
“Fight more. Longer. Harder.”
Katsuki you cant keep..”
“I can and i will, im getting Y/N out of this god damn neighborhood, im going to bed i dont care if you stay here.” he waved off his friend stomping down to his room slamming the door getting a flinch out of Izuku.
“I just wish you would listen… sharks have been going to the fights.. You cant get involved with them.. “ he set some money on the counter and left to join you and Aizawa at the park.
*
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kmelanin · 4 years
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YEONJUN
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something random: not edited
____
                         You met Soobin three years ago, you walked into a grocery store and went down the cookie aisle. You bumped into him on accident, and he almost broke his back bending over and apologizing. He knew how to make you swoon. He then asked for your number and promised to pay you back. You didn’t know how many times he would put on this act of breaking his back and giving you a apology.
You never thought you would let it get to this point. Out of the three years you have been with Soobin, you never would have thought he would hit you. Neither did he, which is why he, once again bent over then left you on the floor and you watch him slam your front door. Your hand was cradling your burning cheek. You were more shocked than anything.
           This has to be it; you couldn’t take it anymore. You hated yourself for staying with him for so long. You should have left when his brother Yeonjun asked if everything was okay a year ago. It was then when you knew, you knew it was not okay. Your mental health was completely depleted, you gained so much weight, and you could not even look at yourself in the mirror. The only thing keeping you going was Yeonjun, he was the light to everything. You were always at their house and so it was natural to become friends.
           Yeonjun stood a bit shorter than Soobin. He being 5’11, and Soobin over six feet. You stand next to them, and you still look up a bit, you being  5’9. He gave off this hard look, always wearing darker, edgier clothes. He has piercings, or fakes ones at least. He looks so pretty, all the time. He is the one that makes you smile now. It truly acted different around you. A truly soft boy. If only he came around before Soobin.
           Soobin, he was so great at first. His softness is was got you. He was a so sweet, taking you on lots of dates, and gifting you with gifts. You were not as lucky as he was, you did not have as much money, so you tried to give back with chores or art pieces, but it was not enough. He suddenly started to demand sex and treat you as if you owed him everything. He would get mad if you didn’t work out certain days, or if a chore was missed.
He was still soft at times, and he always apologized for the things he did to you, and you always forgave him. But now you just knew that he refused to let you go. And for your own sake you needed to leave. You just did not know how, nor did you want to leave Yeonjun behind.
           You needed to just forget about what is happening for now, and deal with it later. You need to figure out how to break up with Soobin. Because he hit you, for the first time in your relationship he hit you. You could never forgive him for that.
           You quickly suck it up as best you could, and you get in the shower. You decided to go out to the club. You quickly wash up and get dressed in a simple black slip dress. It bunched up in the right areas making your curves look great. You also put on some pretty black lace underwear that you never had the chance to wear.
           You look in the mirror and notice how red it was on your face. You quickly pull out your makeup and put on a night glam look. You just wanted to go and get some drinks and then go to bed.
           You finish up and call a cab. You didn’t even feel like dealing with friends, so you wanted to make sure you didn’t drive. You hoped that Yeonjun was here, he really loved dancing. He also loved drinking and music so it was a win to him. He fits in so well with the party crowd, but stands out so much at the same time.
You wore your AF1s for a reason instead of heels. You hated heels.
You go into the bar side of the building. It had less people and the music wasn’t as loud. There was a soundproof wall with a open door way letting in the music, but not to much. You sit at the bar and order a strong drink, and a couple of shots. You weren’t a big drinker, so you liked to down it and move on.
When you got the drinks, you drank both shots quickly and chased it with your main drink. You turn around in your seat, trying your best to hold everything down. What you didn’t expect is a almost neon yellow haired Yeonjun standing on the other side of the room, when your eyes met his head tilted a little bit. You waved at him, feeling relieved to see him here,
             He wore all black and he walks straight towards you. The friends he was around looks at him confused, but connects it when they see you. You turn back around in your seat, trying to calm your heart beat down. The alcohol that you drank was started to burn through your body. He sits down next to you, but his body faces the room.
           “What are you doing here? I thought you guys were having a date night?” He leans in and asks you. You just laughed softly, you don’t answer. Instead you throw back at least half of the drink down your throat.
           Yeonjun frowns at what he sees. You’re acting strange, not like yourself. You’re drinking yourself into a depression, and he refuses to let you do so.
           “Look at me.” He says. He words forced you to look at him in the eyes. His already worried face turned even more upset. “Why have you been crying?” His thumb runs across.
           You grab his hand from your face, his fingers instantly grabbing yours.
           “Lets just go dance.” You smile up to him. He doesn’t push it any further, and he just smiles and nods. He takes your hand tighter and leads you to the doorway that leads to the dance floor. It was filled with people, but he easily got you two towards the middle.
           A slower song came on as he pulls you closer. You recognize it as Another Day by PARTYNEXTDOOR. He lays his hands on your waist and starts to rock with you. You lay your head on his chest a little, he lays his head on yours. He was so happy in this moment. He wish he could hold you forever.
           You wrap your arms all the way around his waist. You then look up at him, he looks down and your eyes connect. It was a bit weird, it felt as if time had slowed down a bit. His gaze was so intense, and it made you so nervous. His hands reach up to your face. He holds onto your face to gently.
           Was he going to kiss you?
           You quickly turn around, rubbing your ass against him. You were blushing. His hands instantly found your waist again and started to guide you a little better to the beat. You leaned against him a little more. You let go a little bit, letting your body move more freely. You close your eyes and live in the moment a little. You felt the alcohol running thought your veins.
Where his hands lay, it tingles. Tingles so much.
           As the song comes to an end, you tilt your head back a little more. With your eyes still closed, you could feel his head lean into your neck, his lips grazing against your skin. You let out a little gasp, enjoying the fresh feeling
           The song Body by MINO came on, and his hands grip you tighter.  His hands pull you in closer and his lips start leaving kisses all over your neck, and you let him.
           He was on cloud 9. Not a drop of alcohol or drugs in him, and he felt a bit addicted. You’re his brother’s girl, he shouldn’t like you this much.
           His hands start to travel up your body, applying pressure in the right areas. His hands leave trails of tingles behind. He turns you around so that you’re facing him.
           “Ya know, Soobin will kill us if he seen us like this.” He says against your lips. His words make you freeze. He is right. He hit you already, what will he do next? You remove yourself from Yeonjuns warm embrace and leave. You were getting so overwhelmed so quickly. As you exit out of the door, you felt a hand on your wrist.
           “Wait! Wait, Im sorry.” Yeonjun stars to go on. He let it go to far, he went to far. His heart was beating out of his chest. He could not lose you.  
           “No, youre fine. Its just-“you trailed off, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you contemplate what to say to him next. You could feel his eyes on you, scanning your face, examining the way your brows furrowed as you thought.
           “Can we just go back to my apartment?” You ask him, your voice slurring slightly. He frowns a bit.
           “You don’t wanna go back to So-“
           “NO! Ill go home myself then.” You blurt out in frustration. You felt bad for not telling him, but why worry him? You turn around and start walking down the street. You didn’t think Yeonjun was following you until a moment later you look back and see the neon haired boy walking behind you with his jacket over his shoulder. His eyes were low and dark when they connect to yours. You just look forward and continue walking home.
           You make your way up to your apartment and you unlock your door. Thankfully Soobin wasn’t here. You pop your shoes off and you head towards your bedroom.
           “Yn.” His voice cuts through the quiet air. You turn back to him and look at him. All of the lights were off. The street lights shined in through your window, creating a shadow on half of his face. “Tell me whats wrong. Did Soobin do something to you? For the past three months you’ve been acting strange.” He finally asks you. You were afraid of this moment. The moment you were going to tell the most important person in your life your worst kept secret.
           “He hit me, he actually hit me.” Your voice could barely get above a whisper. If you thought it was quiet in your home before, well now its dead silent. Its like time was actually frozen. “Yeonjun-?”
           “When?” He voice cut you off. It made you get nervous.
           “Its fine, im over it, I’m over him.” You shrug it off. You go to turn around, but he grabs you once again.
           “No, you can’t be. I can’t let him get away with his. When did he do it YN?” He held you so gently, you couldn’t help but want more of it. You wrap your arms around his waist again.
           “Today. He slapped me. But I know he didn’t mean it.” You mumble against chest. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears. You felt his body tense up around you, and he pulls away from you slightly.
           “What?” He sounded like he was out of breath. He pulls away completely. He looks at you a bit. You look completely normal to him. You look like you always do, fucking beautiful. But then he realized that  he has only seen you in horrible lighting. He quickly pulls you to your room and turns on your light. He now notices how puffy your eye was. It was different from your usual crying eyes. Because only one looks damaged. How fucking hard did the man hit you.
           “Yn, he couldn’t of just hit you? Are you sure this is the first time?” He asks you seriously. He had to know if his brother was truly a piece of shit or if the girl he was in love with blinded him.
           You sighed.
           “Its like every time he would get mad at me it would be for the littlest shit. And he would always explode, either breaking things around me or even breaking a finger.” You looked at Yeonjun in the eyes. “This time he hit me. And Im over it. I don’t deserve this. If you don’t believe me then fine.” You just shrug.    
           “Of course, I believe you.” He fights back and he tries to reach out to you but you dodge him. The look on his face when you did probably hurt you than the hit you received earlier.  Before he could say anything, someone knocks on the door.
           You both knew who it was. Soobin, coming to apologize and probably demand for makeup sex. Yeonjuns feet move faster than yours and he almost runs to the front door. You don’t follow, in fact you just shut your bedroom door.
           Yeonjun opens the door and shoves Soobin away from it, shutting the door behind him.
           “What the fuck?” Soobin says confused as fuck.
           “Are you serious?!” Yeonjun yells at him. He has to hold back his voice before he wakes up the whole building. Instead he continues to shove him away from your home and down the stair.
           “Look, I just want to apologize-“
           “I don’t even want to know how many times you have ‘apologized’ to her. But she’s done with you. I’m done with you. Once you put your hands on her, its was really over with.”
           “I already know. I am still so fucking sorry. I regret it so much.” He cries.
           “Go home.” Yeonjun says walking away. He cannot even look at his brother in his eyes. He needs to go back to you and try his best not to let you slip through his fingers.
           He opens your door and finds you sitting in the couch with your legs up. Your eyes connected with his when he spotted you.
           “His he gone?” You ask softly. He does not know what to do. So, he just nods his head. “Are you going to leave now?” You ask him next.
           “Do you want me to?” He asks almost as softly as you did, nerves making him feel nauseous.
           “Not really. I don’t wanna lose you.” You mumble looking down at your fingers unsure of what to do to make him stay. You look at when he starts to move around. You watch him take his shoes off and make his way over to you.
           Your eyes remain connected with him throughout the whole time. He bends down in front of you and drops to his knees. He slowly grabs your hands and holds them in his. You put your legs down and in the position you are now in they just fell naturally on both sides of him. He doesn’t stop there, he leans in even more. His face coming closer and closer to yours.
           Its not that you freeze up, you just refused to move. You did not want to ruin this moment between you too. this could be the start of something truly beautiful.
               He was moving slowly because he didn’t want to startle you incase you were to snap out of this for some reason. He just really wanted to show you that he refuses live without you.
               Before you could do anything, his lips connected with yours. They were soft and gentle at first, barely pushing against your own lips. He pulls back just a tad to see how you were reacting to his moves. You reach up with one of your hands and caress his cheek. You truly could forget about Soobin with him. He made you and everything around you so much better.
               Your hand made its way to the back of his head, lacing your fingers through his surprisingly soft neon hair. You push his head towards you, meeting him in the middle. Your lips connect with his. His was shocked at first by your sudden bluntness, but he quickly recovers by grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him.
               He wraps his arms around you, and you wrap your arms around his neck. Your hand controlled his head a bit, allowing you to gain control of everything. He let you.
               Whatever you wanted from him; he would give it to you.
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horansqueen · 4 years
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You & Me : chapter 48
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A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA
Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS
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CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34 || CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39 || CHAPTER 40 || CHAPTER 41 || CHAPTER 42 || CHAPTER 43 || CHAPTER 44 || CHAPTER 45 || CHAPTER 46 || CHAPTER 47
NOTES:
-4.1k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.
READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE
- notes: thank you for sticking up by me and this story! thank you for reading, commenting, reblogging... thank you also if you’re a silent reader, and I know there’s a few. I know this isnt over yet, and ill write a long thank you with the last chapter but i had to say it here. THANK YOU!
ALSO! this chapter has BOTH povs. so will the next 2 (and final) chapters!
TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE
Chapter 48
NIALL
December 2018
I had no idea how many pints we had swallowed but clearly, when we got out of the restaurant, I felt a sensation of happiness invade me and I was not really sure why. Louis said something funny and I laughed as we started walking down the street and I replied something that had to do with his girlfriend. He pushed with the side of his body and I started laughing again. It was a good thing we decided to get out to sober up a bit and I felt my eyes flutter when a cool breeze his my face.
It felt so good to be close to Louis again. I couldn't pretend I was totally okay with the fact that he had sex with Olivia but I knew it was a bit stupid of me to hold that grudge. It had been months and it was different now. it was completely different. I was with her and we loved each other, and I was going to ask her to marry me. Soon. Very Very soon.
"I wish I was there to see Liv's face when you'll ask her to be your wife." Louis let out as I glanced at him.
He was smiling fondly and it made me realize he was happy for her. He was happy for both of us. Suddenly, I knew exactly why Olivia had picked him as a best friend. They were so similar in so many aspects and if they hadn't had sex before, I would have said they could have been siblings... twins, perhaps. Not physically, of course, but mentally and emotionally, they were almost exactly the same.
"Definitely, you won't." I chuckled, glancing at him again as I pushed my hands in my pockets.
"Oh, I know." he shrugged, his lips still curled. "I mean, when you two started talking again, she told me she was going to get married with Dylan anyway but I could hear it in her voice that it's not what she really wanted. I told her that she should get married with you instead."
My eyebrows raised and I turned to him as we stopped walking. I was surprised that Louis said that since I was very aware of how mad he was at me after I broke her heart. It had broken our friendship in a way I thought could never be mended back together, but here we were, laughing and having fun the way we used to. He was the first one I told about the ring and somehow, it made total sense.
"Really?" I asked, glancing at him. "I wouldn't have thought but, thank you, Tommo."
"Look, no offense mate, but I did it for her, not for you."
It hurt slightly but I just nodded and licked my lips. It didn't change the fact that he knew Olivia had feelings for me, and most likely thought we were meant to be, and that was enough for me. I couldn't expect our friendship to be exactly how it used to be. Too many things happened, and we both had changed, but I still enjoyed this night and the fact that I was getting my friend back.
We kept walking slowly in silence and after a while, I frowned. I knew where I was and it took me a few seconds to realize why this place felt so important. My heart jumped in my chest and I held my breath when I saw the sign of the bakery a bit farther in the street. It was not lighted up but I could easily read it anymore and I stopped right next to the door.
"You okay Niall?"
I ignored him and moved closer to the door, leaning my forehead against the window just to look inside. I couldn't see the place I had seen her for the first time in over a year, but I could clearly see the spot where I had been standing. A bunch of feelings invaded me, the same feelings that had invaded me back then, when my eyes had fallen on her, and I had to swallow hard, as if my heart was threatening to jump out of my throat.
"Uh-oh," Louis started low. "Looks like it's about to rain."
I blinked a few times, staring some more seconds inside the bakery, and suddenly, something seemed to hit me. I had no idea why I had waited for so many months, I didn't know what the fuck I was thinking. I should have told Olivia that I wanted to marry her, I should have asked her to be my wife back in april, when I bought that damn ring. I had been ready to spend my life with her since that day I saw her again at the bakery and there was no reason to wait again.
I felt raindrops hit the top of my head and wet my shirt, but I just breathed in deeply and turned around, my eyes roaming on the empty and dark street.
"Mate, are you okay?"
Once again, I ignored Louis and without thinking, I started running. I could hear him yelling my name a few times behind me but I didn't stop : I just kept on running as te rain started falling even harder, pouring over me like a shower. I felt my white shirt stick to my chest and the sound of how wet my socks were as I ran on the sidewalk. I didn't even stop when I arrived in front of my house but for some reason, Olivia opened the door just as I was walking up the stairs. She was only wearing a shirt and panties and the sight made me swallow hard.
"Niall? Are you okay?" she asked with a frown, taking a step out as I shook my head, panting loudly, my lips parted and my eyes stuck on her.
"No, no Olivia, I'm not okay." I just let out.
She took a step closer and even if she was still protected somehow from the rain, I could see a few raindrops on her forehead. She brought her hand to my chest and saw her body quiver as a shiver crossed it.
"What's wrong?"
I could hear worry in her voice and it made me realize that no one in the world has ever loved me the way she loved me. No one in the world loved me as much as she loved me. No one ever would, and I didn't want anyone else to anyway. The love she was giving me in every word, every touch, every gaze... that love couldn't be compared to anything else I ever had the chance to get.
"I don't want to wait anymore, Olivia... I've waited enough." I pointed out, making her frown slightly and shake her head.
"W-What?"
"There's no reason to wait anymore!" I let out in an excited tone as I felt every fiber of my body boiling. "It's useless to wait! I love you! I want to spend my life with you!"
Her lips curled and her traits softened. "Me too, Nee." she admitted in a low tone, tilting her head and licking her lips.
"No, Liv, you don't get it." I let out, shaking my head, my lips curling even more. "I know i'll spend my life with you, I won't pass next to this chance a second time. I know I'll never ruin this again, because this is the most important relationship I've ever had and you're the most important person in my life. I want to share everything with you.. Every good morning's and good night's, and every grocery shopping trips, and... and netflix nights, and cleaning days. I want to be with you, and take care of you, and love you the way you deserve to be loved. I want us to know that as long as we have each other, we'll be okay, because we will. I want to complete you because you complete me, Olivia. I realized a long time ago that I can't live with you!"
"Niall," she started, shaking her head and frowning slightly again. "What are you saying?"
I reached for her hands and squeezed them hard in mine. I was completely drenched by then, but I didn't give a fuck. The rain kept falling on my face, sliding down my cheeks to reach my neck and soak me even more. But I pushed that thought away as I let go of one of her hands to dive one of mine in my pocket. I played with the ring with the tip of my fingers for a few seconds, making sure the small diamond was on top, and finally took it out. I felt her tense in front of me but got on one knee anyway, squeezing one of her hands again as I felt nervousness invade me.
"I should have done this a long time ago. I bought this ring in april, and I have no idea why it took me so long to do this. I wanted to find the right words, the right time, the right way. I just didn't realize that there was no right time, words or way. Because every moment is right. I could have asked at any moment and it would have been the right moment because you're the right person.
"Oh my... god." she whispered before swallowing hard. "Niall..."
"Liv, will you marry me?"
She stared at me and finally took a step closer. I held my breath when I realize she was now under the rain as it fell roughly and quickly on her. Her hair stuck to her cheeks and she looked down in my eyes, blinking a few times.
"Are these tears or is it just the rain?" I just asked, making her chuckle and shake her head.
"I love you so much, Niall James Horan!" she let out loud enough so I would hear her over the sound of the rain hitting the cement. "Of course I'll marry you! I've wanted to marry you since I was 6 years old!"
A wave of relief washed over me and I chuckled nervously as my whole body seemed to throb. I got up slowly, still holding her hand, and looked down at her as my lips curled into a fond smile. I really should have done that before, but they said 'better late than never', right?
"I'm in love with you." I whispered, touching her fingers to find the right one before sliding the ring on it without every looking away from her eyes. "Thank you so much."
"Don't thank me, I want to be your wife so bad, I can't even tell you how happy this makes me."
She wrapped her arms around my neck and pulled me closer. My eyes closed when I felt her lips against mine and suddenly, I realized that everything was perfect.
                                                      ---
OLIVIA
I kissed him deeply but slowly, feeling his wet shirt soak mine as he pulled me closer. I let the fingers of both my hands slip in his wet hair and pull on it gently, before two or three of my fingertips slid down to his nape, playing with the very bottom of his hair. It made him shiver against me and I whimpered low in his mouth.
"I'm so in love with you, Niall." I whispered, my lips still brushing against his.
My eyes fluttered open and I moved my hand a bit before moving my head back just to look at the ring on my finger. It seemed unreal and for half a second, I wondered if I was actually dreaming one of these very vivid and realistic dreams I had, sometimes. They used to happen so often after Niall broke up with me. Perhaps I was still just in one of those dreams where I'm happy and I get everything I've ever desired. The diamond shined a bit when I moved my hand because of the light from the living room and I felt myself tear up.
I stared at the only human I was ever in love with and swallowed hard. I focused on the locks of his hair sticking to his forehead and at how beautiful he looked. No one else had ever made me feel like he did, and the feelings inside me were so strong I started feeling them physically. Somehow, my hole body started throbbing and I felt my legs weaken at all the strong emotions reaching me.
I felt his palms press more on my back and bit my bottom lip before gripping the front of his shirt and pulling him inside roughly. My lips found his again and I kissed him a bit too hard, perhaps, pulling his shirt over his head before doing the same with mine so fast I almost tore it up. I felt his hands on my naked waist and realized I had been half naked the whole time.
His hands moved up on my chest and I felt his thumbs stop right under my breasts as we kissed. I wanted him so bad... I wanted him like it was our last time... or our very first time.
He pushed the door with one of his feet but it stayed half open as I undid his pants and pulled them down. We ended up laying on the floor in the lobby, his lips running all over me as fat as my hands traveled on his back, neck and in his hair. The moment he pushed himself inside me made my back arched and I moved my knees up, keeping my feet flat on the floor.
"I love you so much." he whispered, his lips pressing against my neck, near my jaw, before he pushed himself deeper inside me. "F-Fuck, you feel so good."
I tilted my chin up and closed my eyes, realizing that I could hear the rain pouring outside. From time to time, I even felt a few drops reach for my legs and it made me think that it was probably falling on Niall, too. I pushed my fingers in his back and my nails sunk in his skin as he thrust in and out of me slowly but deeply. I felt dizzy when an orgasm started building up in the pit of my stomach but I pressed my thighs on each side of him to hold him in place before moving on my elbows to kiss him harder.
I wanted to beg him not to move but I didn't have to. He stopped moving over me only to focus on the way he was kissing me, and I could feel my heart beat so hard and fast that I felt like I was about to cum anyway.
"Mm, Olivia, you're gonna be my wife yea?" he mumbled as we kissed. "I should have asked before but I was so scared you'd say no."
I felt my heart jump and twist in my chest at his confession and shut my eyes tighter. "I would have said 'yes' Niall." I whispered. "There's not a single moment you could have asked in this lifetime when my answer would have been 'no."
He stopped kissing me for a few seconds and finally rolled us around. I held my breath, a bit surprised, but ended up staddling him as his hands ran on my thighs gently. My lips were still very close to his and my hair was falling around us, hiding our faces like a curtain.
"I can't wait to be your wife, Niall."
His lips curled slightly in a fond smile. "I can't wait to cherish you, love you, and support you for the rest of my life." he added in a murmur. "Now ride me, petal."
My lips curled more and I chuckled before sitting up.I started riding him gently, staring down at him and biting my bottom lip. I could still see a few locks of his hair stuck on his forehead and the sight of him naked under me made my whole body quiver.
"This is what I want to see every single day for the rest of my life." he admitted in a whisper, letting one of his hands slide up until my breasts, running his palm on them and brushing his fingertips on my nipples. "That honeymoon is gonna be something else, petal."
I smiled more and bend down slightly, holding myself with my hands on his chest. "That honeymoon is gonna last until we die."
He smiled at me and nodded. "It will."
I started riding him again, harder and a bit faster this time, and when his hand reached between my legs to rub my clit, I started shaking over him. He groaned low, reaching for my thighs and grabbing them hard while he closed his eyes tight. We remained motionless for a few seconds, just panting with our eyes closed, but after a while, my eyes fluttered open and I sent him a fond smile.
"C'mere."
I lied down next to him on the floor, not even caring about how uncomfortable it was, and I moved my hand up to look at my ring again. It was unbelievable but I knew it was true. If someone had told me, when I was a kid, that I was going to marry Niall, I would have laughed. Heck, if someone had told me that a year ago, I wouldn't have believed it. Now, however, it just felt right. It felt like the accomplishment of a lifetime. It felt like the obvious outcome of my journey. It felt like the epic conclusion that was meant to happen.
"I bought this in Paris, when we were at your parents." he just said, making my heart skip a beat. How could his voice still make me melt after all this time? "I just woke up one day and I knew it was the right thing to do. It was so obvious to me I didn't even doubt it or question it. Not a fucking second."
I turned my head to look at him, noticing he was staring at the ring on my finger.
"You're the love of my life, we should already be married." he pointed out with a small shrug, making me laugh. It made him turn my way and he raised his eyebrows. "What?"
"I mean you? Niall Horan? Wanting to get married so soon?" I asked, the left corner of my lips raised up. "Who would have thought? I mean, you'll be the first one in your band to be married. Even before Louis... even before Liam! If you think about it, it's quite surprising isn't it?"
He stared at me for a few seconds, but his lips finally curled into a smile too and he chuckled. "Yea, maybe. i mean, if you weren't in my life, I'd probably be the last one to get married, you're right."
"So it's because of me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and turning my body his way.
"Yea. I don't want to marry anyone else, and if you weren't in my life... I don't even know if I'd get married. Maybe in my late 30's? Or 40's? Who knows?"
We stared at each other for a minute or two in silence. I was coming up to the conclusion that soulmates were real, and I was lucky enough to have found mine. Even better, it seemed like I was his soulmate too, and nothing could be more perfect that that. I couldn't say I wouldn't have married anyone but him, especially since I was so close to marry an other man, but I could say that I would never be happy with anyone else the way I was happy with him. There was something about this relationship that I wouldn't be able to get though any other relationship. I never felt like that for anyone else in the world. No one could compare. No one was Niall James Horan, and he was the only one I wanted.
"This calls for champagne."
I chuckled and he got up before extending his hand to help me up too. I grabbed his shirt on the floor but grimaced at how wet it was. Instead, I grabbed all our clothes spread on the floor and brought it to the washing machine as he walked up to the kitchen completely naked. I grabbed a pair of boxers for him and one of his shirt for me and walked back to the living room, closing the door and locking it. It was still raining hard outside and I looked by the window for a short moment before finally joining him in the kitchen. He had picked a bottle of champagne and I smiled as I stared at him. He was there, standing completely naked in the kitchen, a bottle of champagne in hands, trying to open it, and I tilted my head. The sight was fucking incredible.
"I brought you boxers but I'm not sure I want to give them to you anymore."
He turned to me with a smirk and I couldn't help but let glance down at his dick. He chuckles and opened the bottle of champagne with a 'pop' before pouring some in two glasses.
"Clothing is optional tonight, my love." he let out, raising his eyebrows. "In fact, it's forbidden to wear any piece of clothing."
He handed me my glass and I pressed my lips together, taking it just as he snapped the shirt and boxers from my other hand. I held my breath as he threw them away and let out a short giggle. I was never at ease while being naked, especially around Niall because his opinion mattered to me more than anyone else's, but the way his eyes roamed on my naked form and sparkled as they got back into mine... that was something that didn't lie. So I didn't have the body I used to have, and I didn't have (and never did) the body of the girls he used to date and fuck... but apparently, it didn't matter to him.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked in a low tone, licking my lips.
He cleared his throat and took his own glass before turning back to me again.
"You look at me too, darling." he pointed out, avoiding my eyes.
"I know but... I don't know, you were looking at me... in a special way."
This time, he looked out and our eyes met. He took a step closer and my lips parted slightly. Fuck, I loved him, I loved him so fucking much I could literally die.
"I can't believe how lucky I am." he admitted in a very low tone. "I'm gonna make love to you every single day for the rest of my life. I want to discover and remember every mole, every mark, every spot." I felt his free hand run on one of my breasts and slide down my stomach. "I want to learn the best ways to make you horny, to make you dizzy, to drive you crazy and to make you cum. I was looking at you because I find it scary how close I was to never get you back."
I stared at him, my mouth slightly open, as I let his words sink in. My eyes fluttered but I kept them open and he brought his fingers on my back, brushing his fingertips on my spine.
"And you say you're not good with words." I pointed out, tilting my head and making him chuckle again.
"I'm getting better at it, right?" he laughed, taking a step back. "You mad eme practice a lot, without really realizing it."
i rolled my eyes with a smile and shrugged as he brought his glass up. "To you and I, to this relationship that will last longer than a lifetime. To you, because you're perfect for me."
"To you too, because you're the only one I ever wanted."
I clinked my glass against his and swallowed everything, putting the glass back on the counter. He did the same and filled them up again.
"So, how are we gonna tell everyone?" I asked, bringing the now full glass to my lips again.
"We're not." he said, leaning his ass against the counter, taking a sip too and making me frown. "We're eloping. Prepare your stuff, we're leaving tomorrow."
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sweetiejunie · 4 years
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idk if requests are open rn, but an angst/fluff soulmate au with Beomgyu would make me really happy. If requests aren’t open then it’s okay^^
—.✿ฺ—
Rewrite the stars
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Summary: you weren’t meant to be together. And it freaked you out. But beomgyu? He’s always been your rock.
Genre: angst, fluff
Beomgyu x reader
A/n: huehue thanks for the request anonie!! First time i wrote a soulmate fic 🥴 but hope u enjoyed! I tried :’)
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The two people connected by the red thread are destined lovers, regardless of place, time, or circumstances. This magical cord may stretch or tangle, but never break. Beomgyu watched as you laid in his arms, staring at the red string tied around your pinky. He knew this was wrong. You weren’t supposed to be with him. But he loved you, and you loved him.
It was a fluke that the two of you met. It was a fluke that you fell for each other. But that faithful day he decided to ignore his instincts, was probably the best decision he’s ever made.
You hated that you lived in a world where ‘soulmates’ existed as a concept. You had always thought it was just a social construct, but you can’t ignore the disapproving looks you got while you walked down the streets hand-in-hand with the boy that wasn’t fated to be with you. Why couldn’t the thread be tied around his pinky instead of some stranger you haven’t met? Faith, and the universe, just had to be a bitch.
Beomgyu, on the other hand, he never cared. He loved you, and that was all that mattered to him. Who cares about what others thought about you? Everyone around him told him that it wasn’t right, but nothing ever convinced him. He swore to be by your side no matter what, and it was a promise he planned to keep. On the days when you started to doubt your relationship, he was there. On days when the harsh reality of society got to you, he was there. He was there with you through thick and thin.
“You’re overthinking about the piece of thread again,” he suddenly spoke, knocking you out of your dazed stated when he caught you playing with the string around your left pinky.
You blushed, hiding your hand in a fist as you apologised, “Im sorry.”
“No need to apologise, my love.”
Beomgyu truly was the sweetest. Through all your panic and doubt, he still chose to stay with you and never expected anything in return.
Even the time you almost broke up with him because of everything people were telling you. How you weren’t fated to last or how he was going to leave you once he met his real soulmate. After all this time, that day is still engraved deep in his mind, stuck with him like the plague. After all, the most painful memories are the hardest to forget — the day he almost lost you.
That evening, beomgyu invited you to dinner to meet his parents. You had been dating for a while now, and he thought it was the perfect time for the most important people in his life to finally meet. There was just one small catch, okay, a pretty big catch. Since you weren’t soulmates, his parents weren’t biggest fan of you.
“Why would you agree to that? You know your parents aren’t typically that fond of me. Now you want me to sit barely a feet away from them for, gods knows how many hours?”
“Come on y/n, don’t worry so much. It’ll be fine, and I’ll be with you the whole time, alright?” Beomgyu replied, pouting at you, hoping that tonight would be the night his parents saw just how loving and kind you were. He wanted so badly for you to get along, but that proved to be just a wish.
“Fine, only for you. But don’t you dare leave me.”
As the night went on, beomgyus parents didn’t do anything too out of the ordinary, asking the usual interrogating questions any parent would ask the significant other of their child. But through the night, you had half a mind that every now and then they would glare at you. Then again, you were extremely nervous, so it could have just been you overthinking or your overactive imagination. But the moment beomgyu had excused himself to use the washroom, your suspicions were confirmed.
“Ill just be a second,” he whispered to you as he pushed he chair back.
The moment he was out of sight, his mother spoke, “listen, y/n. I’m going to be frank with you. I think you’re a really nice girl, but i want you to leave beomgyu,” venom evident in every word.
Her statement caught you off guard, and the only respond your brain could process was, “huh?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s clear that you two are not meant to be together. After-all, you aren’t soulmates. No amount of love can fix or change that.” She paused, only to continue when you didn’t reply, “and i just want the best for beomgyu. I’m sure you do too. One day, I want him to be able to find true love without being held back by anything... or anyone.”
Her words rang in your head over and over again. Were you really just a burden to beomgyu? Was he really going to leave you one of these days?
“I- er- Excuse me. Sorry, i have to go. Ill see myself out,” you stated, your head hung low as you hurried to gather your thing. “ Thank you for the dinner.”
You made your way to the front door, clicking it shut behind you. Ignoring the sound of the bathroom door opening and beomgyu’s voice as he called your name. Worried, confused, maybe even desperate. In the minute he left, his entire world had come crashing down in front him.
“What on earth did you say to her?!” He yelled at his parents. But before they could answer, he was sprinting out the door after you.
“Y/n!” He called out, running towards you. “Wait! Please!”
He reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you in your tracks. When you turned to face him, the tears running down your face were bullets to his heart.
“They’re small minded people,” he began, grabbing your hands, holding them tightly. “Why do you care what they think-”
“It’s not just them,” you interrupted. “It’s everyone.”
“Not me,” his expression soften when he realised you were starting to sob harder. His thumbs running over to back your hands assuringly.
“It may not be written in stone,” he said, referring to the thread tied around his own pinky. “But i know you’re meant to be mine.”
“Beomgyu...” you trailed off. You hated how fate made you question your future with him. You hated how you always put beomgyu in that position. But you couldn’t help it. “No one ever looked at you the way your parents looked at me. But they’re right, you and i, this isn’t meant to happen. Eventually, you would find your true soulmate. Isn’t it better we end it now, before it’s too late and one of us ends up getting hurt?”
He stood there, staring into your eyes. His grip on your hands never faulted, afraid that if let you go, he’ll never see you again. A millions thoughts ran through his head, but all of them wasn’t the right thing to say. All, expect one.
“I- i love you,” he chocked out.
“Beomgyu...“
“No, don’t. I can see it in your eyes that you love me too. Isn’t that enough? I promised to be by your side. What matters the most is what we think. And we love each other, thats more than what others can ever say about us. Just because this stupid string says we’re not supposed to be together, doesn’t mean we can’t still write out own ending. Don’t leave me, please.”
“But beomgyu, they’re your parents.”
“I dont give a shit. If they can’t accept me and whatever and whoever i love then... then that’s their problem.”
You couldn’t speak, chocking on your sobs as you looked into his eyes. You pulled him in for a hug, and that was all the response he needed before hugging you back.
Bringing himself back to the present, he smiled, admiring the sight in front of him as you stared up at the clouds. Since that day, the road with you was no where near a smooth ride. But from the moment he saw you, he knew that you may not be fated to be with him, but he had to love you with everything he had, for as long as he can.
The journey to be with you may have been long and difficult, but he was glad it was so tough. Cause if he hadn’t gone through hell to get there, he might not have learnt the lessons he did. And he would carry those lessons with him. He loved you through all the hard times, every stupid fight, every pang of jealousy or boredom or uncertainty that came your way. And he would continue to do that, until the very end. Admittedly, beomgyu didn’t know what the futures holds for either of you. But he knew that it included you.
.
.
.
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Hope you liked this! Not completely happy with this but thought it was still worth posting. I tried ㅠㅠ
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Text
Before This Dance Is Through V
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Chapter: 5/16
Rating: M (Smut Warning)
Summary: Ringo's being going through a dry spell for the last year or so and when he regretfully tells his best friend John, he insists on taking them to an all-male strip club for some "fun". Ringo isn't sure whether it's the alcohol, his desperation or a mixture of the two but he thinks he might be falling in love with a stripper.
Tags: AU - Strippers, Modern Setting, Smut, Slow Burn
Pairings: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
AO3 link here / Fic masterlist here
Despite what John had suggested, Ringo didn't go back to The Helter Skelter the following week; he'd considered it when John sent him yet another late night text but ultimately decided it wasn't the best idea. Spike had been playing on his mind daily and Ringo wasn't sure he was prepared to face him again. Instead he focused on his drumming and searched for a few more students to teach, which were fairly easy to find. Usually Ringo enjoyed his time off, he understood he was lucky that he didn't have to work a 9-5 job just to get by, but recently he wanted his fill his time up as much as possible, to distract himself.
One of his new students seemed incredibly interested in him, they'd spent an hour just chatting in his living room before they'd even moved over to the drum kit. Ringo wasn't too fussed, he was getting paid by the hour so wasting time was beneficial to him but he didn't want to give the guy the wrong impression. He was a little bit older and attractive enough but Ringo simply wasn't interested.
"Why didn't you just go for it?" John had asked him when they next met up.
"I dunno..." Ringo mumbled, but a part of him knew very well.
He'd given the guy another lesson since then and it became clear that the guy's interest in him wasn't going away any time soon. Ringo felt bad about the whole thing, wasn't he just doing exactly what Spike was doing to him? He tried to act as professional as possible the second time around in attempt to get the guy to back off, considering he hadn't heard from him since he was hoping it had worked. What was wrong with him? Was he really going to make himself suffer like this all because of one guy? And not just any guy, a stripper who had shown absolutely no interest in him at all. It was ridiculous, he kept telling himself, but no matter how much he tried to convince himself that he had to get over Spike, he would still think about him every day without fail. Trying to distract himself with clients had been working somewhat, but it had been difficult, especially when his best friend was John Lennon.
       youre gonna love me
The text came through when Ringo was sat in a café getting some lunch. He'd finished with one of his younger students, a sweet girl who's parents had tried to convince her to try a more 'ladylike' instrument but she had promised only to give up the drums if she was awful; much to her delight, and Ringo's for being able to prove the stereotypical parents wrong, she was pretty good. Seeing her always put Ringo in a good mood, the parents mostly stayed away partly due to the noise but mostly due to disappointment, which meant they could joke around together. Ringo could tell she admired him and he welcomed it gladly, one of the best things about teaching was inspiring others, at least for him it was.
        do i not already?
        well yes         but youre gonna love me EVEN more
        what have you done
        well i happened to stop by the club last night
        oh god what did you do
        wow is that how little you trust me
        can you blame me
        suppose not         ANYWAY i got talking to paulie
        surprise surprise
        do you want the good news or not???
        fine fine sorry
        AS I WAS SAYING i was talking to paulie         and he told me that your special little someone has an onlyfans account
        first of all fuck you for calling him that         second of all wtf is onlyfans
        oh sorry i didnt realise you werent living in the 21st century
        ......         care to grace me with your knowledge?
        basically its a website where you can post exclusive stuff for ONLY FANS to see         its not a porn site or anything but its basically where people sell their nudes         MEANING spike has an account so you can totally see loads of raunchy filthy perverted pics of him
        but i have to pay?
        well weve all gotta make a living
        i can basically see him naked for free
        but this way you wont get all freaked out and embarrassed         well you will but nobody will know at least         so do you want the link or not???
Ringo paused for a few moments, he was gripping his phone tightly in both of his hands as he unblinkingly looked at John's words. If his mind was going to decide to make him suffer by enabling his intense interest in Spike, he may as well get something out of it.
        fine
        where are your manners richard??
        can i please have the link to the strippers nude photos please john please
        alright calm down         let me know if its worth while i might have a look
        idk if im even gonna look at it         paying for porn is a little dated
        treat yourself ringo         id offer to pay but im broke
        if youre broke why were you at the strip club last night?
        well SOMEONE had to go
        they really didnt
        im supporting my local economy
        i dont think thats how that works
        sure it is         anyway here you go
Ringo stared at the link for a while, his eyes even began to blur, he didn't want to risk opening it in public even though he knew there was little chance of anyone seeing. He finished his lunch in a hurry and headed home quickly, only when he was in the privacy of his bedroom did he dare open it. First he had to make an account, when he saw the screen loading up asking for an email address and password he just turned his screen off and put the phone down. This was far too much effort for something he shouldn't really have been doing in the first place. But it only took a few minutes for him to pick the phone back up and begin signing up, he used an old email as it felt less seedy that way and he didn't want to risk his name cropping up anywhere for Spike to see. Now he could load up the link properly and take a proper look at Spike's profile.
Just looking at the small profile picture was enough to startle Ringo a little, the dark eyes looking into the camera with that unreadable glimmer behind them. He was shirtless in the picture, Ringo wondered why that didn't catch his attention first, with the frame cutting off just before it showed anything too explicit. The header was a photo taken from the club, showing him in tight, leather pants and tassels on his nipples which matched the whip he held in his hand. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea. He'd spent so much time and effort trying not to think about this man, attempting to keep him out of his mind as much as possible. Ringo knew that if he went through with this all that progress would be lost, he'd be giving in to whatever strange obsession he'd developed for Spike, one that no doubt wasn't going to lead to anything good.
Ringo kept staring at the screen as though it was going to tell him what he should do. Spike's profile had no description, which wasn't very surprising, and it dashed any hope Ringo had of discovering something new about him. Right before he was about to put his phone down again, it vibrated.
        howd the wank go??
        john i dont care how long weve been friends asking how my wank was will always be weird
        youre right sorry         so how did it go???
        if you must know         i havent had a wank         i havent even paid for entry
        now whos the one being inappropriate??
        ha ha
        why havent you???
        feels weird
        oh i see         youll consume a bunch of unethical porn for free but god forbid you actually give sex workers any actual money
        you are the last person who can lecture me about unethical porn
        hey now watch yourself         ringo if you dont get a subscription I WILL
        go ahead
        and ill tell you every day what sexy sexy pictures hes posting         ill tell you EVERY SINGLE TIME i have a wank over them
        every time? i dont think youve got enough data for that
        im not joking
        neither am i         you wank A LOT
        ringooooo just buy it i swear to god         if its not worth it or you regret it or whatever ill give you the money back
        on top of the money you already owe me?
        have you always been such a capitalist
        youre not doing a very good job of convincing me
        fine         spikes cock         now are you convinced???
        maybe
        naked pictures of spike whenever and wherever you want them all for the low low price of 10 quid a month         convinced??
        fine fine         if itll shut you up
        im starting to think thats code for 'i really wanna do this but im too embarrassed to admit it'
        i hate you
        now that DEFINITELY code for 'john youre right'         anyway theres no time to be telling me how right i am all the time youve got dick pics to look at         even i wont stand in the way of a good wank         so dont bother replying to me until youve paid for that subscription young man
        im older than you
        DONT BOTHER REPLYING
Ringo let out a sigh and rested his head against the bedroom wall from where he was laying on the bed. He opened up the link again and his thumb hovered over the subscription button, why couldn't he just do it? The money wasn't an issue, it could've cost half as much or be double the price and he'd still be debating it all the same. Somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, after all Spike hadn't told Ringo about it himself, but then again that didn't necessarily mean he didn't want Ringo to see it. After all it was like John said: everyone has to make a living somehow. Sometimes Ringo wished he could turn off that part of his brain that was so empathetic, so concerned about how everyone felt and what they were thinking. He knew that he wanted this, so why wasn't he allowing himself to have it? Ringo could see that he was being ridiculous, as he was with almost anything involving Spike, and after lying there for a while pondering and debating he decided to flip a coin. Heads would mean he got the subscription, tails that he didn't. He watched the coin spinning through the air after he flicked it upwards, then snatched it and slammed it down onto his forearm before slowly moving his hand away: it was tails. What a relief. Ringo chuckled to himself for being so foolish, settling down into his bed; it was still only around midday but he didn't have anywhere he needed to be.
So why didn't he feel relieved in the slightest?
This whole thing was getting tiring, the constant debate between what he believed he should do and what he wanted to do, and it seemed like it wasn't going to be ending anytime soon. Apparently he was in this for the long run, whatever that meant, but if he was going to turn down relatively attractive guys practically throwing themselves at him, he may as well go all the way. While he was putting in his credit card information, he stopped to think around three of four times, but once he'd finished and the images became accessible to him, his brain was barely able to conjure up a coherent sentence.
"Jesus..." Ringo breathed out as his eyes flicked across the plethora of pictures loading up on his screen.
There was a lot of them, and a lot of Spike was on display. Most of them were pictures taken at the club, either from a professional photographer in the audience or photos he'd taken himself in the mirrors backstage - Ringo could even see glimpses of Paul in the background of some of them. The ones that caught Ringo's eyes the most were those that seemed to be taken in his house, these also happened to be the ones in which Spike tended to be fully naked. It was very different experience to see him like this: a static image that he'd intentionally taken of himself and posted for so many people to see, an image that couldn't look back at Ringo and make him feel that strange mixture of excitement and shame. He began scrolling down the feed which only revealed more and more enticing photos. Ringo began to feel himself hardening, he suspected it had been happening for a while now but he'd been far too distracted to notice. He felt like a teenager discovering porn for the first time, it was difficult to remind himself that this wasn't anything new. Seeing Spike naked shouldn't have excited him so much, and yet it did.
One picture in particular drew Ringo's attention: Spike was stood in front of a bathroom mirror with a loose black tie lying against his bare chest, one hand was holding a phone and the other gripping his cock. He had dark eye make up on and his hair was messy. Ringo wasn't sure exactly what it was about this photo that was so enticing but he couldn't take his eyes off it. The prominence of his collarbones, the faint curls of his dark hair, how his slim fingers wrapped around himself. Slowly Ringo slid his own hand under the waistband of his boxers as he stared at the picture. At first he hesitated, his fingers stopped right above the base. It's not like this would've been the first time he'd touched himself while thinking about Spike, it would've been far from the last he imagined, but this was different. It was more concrete, more of an admission. Nothing felt quite as real when it's only being imagined, the haziness of lust fuzzing up the mind as it so often did, but now with a very real photo of Spike in front of him - which he'd paid to see - the feeling was far more tangible, far harder to ignore.
He'd come this far, he told himself as his hand sunk lower until his fingers were running along the length of his semi-hard cock, he may as well go all the way. To begin with Ringo stayed looking at this single picture as he slowly pumped himself, but as his lust began to grow he perused through more and more pictures: Spike kneeling naked in front of a mirror with a loose cigarette hanging from his lips, lying in the bath with bubbles only just about covering his nakedness, spread out on the bed with a gag in his mouth, handcuffs forcing his slim arms behind his back with his cock throbbing. None of this was anything Ringo hadn't seen before, like most people in this day and age he'd searched through the darker corners of the internet - sometimes willingly, sometimes John was to blame - but to see Spike in such a way was like an entirely new rush. Each picture drove Ringo further and further on, at times he almost dropped his phone with how sloppy his movements were becoming. Who took these photos? Ringo figured it was best not to think about it, the possibility that Spike had a boyfriend who took all these pictures of him would've been the quickest way to kill his erection.
Ringo began moaning and cursing wantonly as he got closer and closer to his orgasm, he had to stop flicking through the pictures because he could hardly concentrate on what his other hand was doing, so he settled on a final one to help him finish; it wasn't particularly strategic but he was definitely grateful that he selected the one that he did. In it Spike was looking directly into the camera, allowing Ringo to gaze longingly into the rich brown of his eyes and how his dark lashes curled beautifully around them. He was shirtless with nothing but a necklace on, the same necklace that Ringo had seen him wearing in the record store and Ringo couldn't help feeling a sense of satisfaction that he'd seen it with his own eyes, as though it meant something. Deep down he knew that it didn't but his inebriated mind was latching onto it. The nudity in the photo was hardly interesting Ringo by this point, although it would be wrong to say that he completely ignored the flatness of his stomach or the faint shadows of his ribs beneath his pale skin, it was the personal aspect which truly affected him.
This wasn't just lust. Lust Ringo could understand, he could compartmentalise it and give into it without much shame or a second thought. If this was just lust, he would've bought the subscription without a care and touched himself looking at the nakedness of Spike's body as though it meant nothing more than a way to get off. Yet here he was on the brink of orgasm looking into another man's eyes, eyes that felt like they were looking straight back at him as though they were sharing this moment together. It wasn't hard to imagine Spike's hand in place of his own, those deep eyes watching Ringo come undone piece by piece. Ringo's hip began to stutter, his leg twitching a little as he had to drop the phone down onto his lap as his head fell back against his pillow as his orgasm approached. It wasn't the image of Spike's naked body that filled Ringo's mind as he came, it wasn't his arse or his cock or even his chest, it was his face, his voice, it was him.
Ringo lay breathless on his bed for a while, the clarity that arrived as his orgasm subsided wasn't welcome in the slightest and he was reluctant to pick his phone back up to see Spike's eyes looking at him once again. There was no use in feeling ashamed about it, no point in trying to deny it any longer: his feelings for Spike were more than a mere passing fancy, that was clear. Exactly what he was meant to do about these feelings was far from clear but that wasn't something Ringo could figure out right now with cum on his stomach and the daylight seeping through his bedroom curtains.
When he'd picked up his phone he'd closed all the apps immediately, doing his best not to catch a glimpse of what he'd been so eagerly looking at before. Just as he was about to step into the shower to clean himself off, his phone buzzed; he almost couldn't hear it over the music he was blasting out. It alerted him for a moment as though it was going to be a message from Spike stating he knew exactly what Ringo had just done - it wouldn't have really surprised him had that been the case, Spike's face almost always looked like he knew something that nobody else did - but fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, it was John.
        sooo how did the wank go
         who knows          but on a totally unrelated note im about to get into the shower
         well before you do that i have even more good news 
         can it not wait?
         NO because you might cum just at the thought of it and then youd be wasting a good shower
         well arent you considerate          and unnecessarily graphic
         thats me          anyway im taking you to the club next tuesday whether you like it or not
         im still waiting for the good news
         well if youd let me FINISH          next week theyre doing a special event and we just have to go          youll never guess what it is
         what is it?
         guess
         you just said ill never guess
         youre no fun
         WHAT IS IT
         alright alright keep your hair on          its a crossdressing event          high heels make up probably a few wigs all that good stuff
         im still waiting for the good news
         OH COME ON youre telling me you dont want to see spike in heels and fishnets with some lovely lipstick on
Ringo gulped. It wasn't a difficult image to conjure up his mind, considering he'd been staring at photos of Spike for the past twenty minutes and it excited him to say the least. He did want to see that, very much indeed.
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angrylizardjacket · 6 years
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when i said it i thought it was true [4] {Ben Hardy}
A/N: 2973 words. Listen, I massaged the timeline a little bit, just suspend your disbelief, perhaps it only takes 4 months to be in post production. Also yes I know X-Men didn’t actually film in Egypt, but I didn’t know that at the start of this fic and now I’m sticking with my mistakes because momma didn’t raise a quitter but she did raise a fool.
[part 1] [part 2] [part 3]
“You’re not proposing to me in a sheer shirt.” The moment the makeup team leaves, you turn on Ben, amusement tugging at your lips as you cross your arms, cocking your hip.
“You don’t like it?” He asked, the picture of innocence as he fiddles with the cuff of his jacket. You raise a singular eyebrow. “I think you do like it.” He hummed, a mischievous sparkle in his eye. When you refuse to break eye contact, your silence is answer enough. “I think you like it a lot.” 
It’s been almost a four months since shooting officially wrapped, two since you’d filmed the last of the pick up shots they’d needed, and a full month since you and Ben seen each other in person; you’d been busy with a Netflix series, and Ben had been in talks about a new project, and you’d been messaging every day but seeing each other in person is... well there’s something different. Playful. Easy. Somehow neither of you seem worried about the looming proposal, and are just making up for lost time.
“Love, you’ve gotta take it up with the stylist, not me.” He shrugged, as if helpless, and turned, making his way to the door, knowing without even looking that you’ll be following behind him. He’s chipper, brimming with excitement and looking damn good, and once he gets to the elevator and pushes the button, he offers you his arm while he waits.
“Marry me.” He says it suddenly, watching the numbers of the elevator tick up to your floor. There’s no-one around, and the ring is still in his pocket.
“What?” With a frown, you step into the elevator, and press the button for the lobby, still tucked up against him.
“What if we just show up engaged?” He asks, hand in his pocket where he’s fiddling with the ring box. He’s not nervous, just contemplative.
“And deprive Swarovski of their moment?” You scoffed, and he tipped his head to look at you, eyebrows raised in exasperated amusement.
“I know you hate the ring, ‘too gaudy, too ostentatious by half’, isn’t that what you said?” He snickers after doing as half decent imitation of you. Giving him a shove, you duck your head to hide your embarrassed smile.
“It’s so ‘look at me! Look at me!’” You huff, and he can’t help but laugh at that. The sound of it, in person rather than over Skype, made you feel, for lack of a better phrase, like you were home. Not that there really was a better phrase, you just didn’t want to think about or admit how much you’d missed him.
“Sorry to say, dude, but there’s nothing more ‘look at me! Look at me!’ than a red carpet proposal.” And yeah, okay, maybe he had a point, but that was one night, you had to wear that ring until... they hadn’t told you the DVD release date, but you’re pretty sure it was some time in the New Year. When you bring this up, he just rolls his eyes. “You’re not the one getting down on one knee for a fake proposal; I’m gonna look like an idiot when this is all over.” 
“Well fine, if you’re so worried, I’ll propose.” Instead of dwelling on his words, you step away, holding your hand out expectantly. When he just stares at you, bewildered, you motion for him to hand the ring box over, and he finally cracks a grin, shaking his head.
“If you think I’m gonna be caught dead in that ring you’re wrong.” He spluttered, and you can’t help but laugh at that.
“Fine, I won’t take your first proposal away from you.” You hum with a smile, tucking yourself back against him. He goes very quiet. It takes you a few moments, but you look up at him, brow furrowed. He seems lost in his own thoughts. “It- Ben you’ve never been engaged before, I feel like I’d know if you had been.” Your words snap him out of his trance and he looks at you with wide, bright eyes, and an unconvincing smile.
“Yeah, no, I would have told you by now otherwise.” The silence that falls around you in not a comfortable one, and you’re glad when the elevator comes to a stop. “I got close once, though.” He admits, quietly. You don’t know how to respond to that; you hadn’t considered how much those words would hurt. You want to ask with who, but you already felt an unreasonable rush of jealousy at the thought of someone else stealing his heart enough for him to want to be with them forever. Unreasonable jealousy.
Filming for X-Men started a week ago and he’s only called you once; he’s on a film lot somewhere in Canada and his hair is curly and god he looks cute but the apartment feels so empty. He’s bright eyed and excited. He’s rambling about how busy he is, and he’s still wearing his makeup. The call lasts five minutes; the cast are going out for dinner. You tell him to have fun, but you’re heart’s not in it; he can sense it, and promises to call you tomorrow, before he hangs up.
He doesn’t call, part of you isn’t surprised.
“Marry me.” He asks again, voice low in your ear. The others in the car can’t hear him, but part of you is afraid they might. They don’t technically know it’s not a real relationship, though part of you thinks Gwilym has his doubts, not that he’d ever voice them.
“Not the time.” You shoot him a warning look, and he just slings an arm around you, leaning back in his seat. 
“You’ll regret not letting me be low-key about it.” He warns in return, giving you a blithe smile, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“Low-key about what?” Lucy asks, and you elbow Ben in the ribs. He keeps smiling, though his mischievousness slides to something more fond as he actually looks at you.
“About anything.” You say by way of explanation, and though she, along with the rest of the car, still look confused, they don’t push it. There’s reporters everywhere when you get out of the car, and you and Ben are the last ones out.
“Last chance before this becomes a spectacle.” He murmurs when he steps out after you, straightening the back of your dress just a little, and he sounds amused, but there’s something genuine in his voice, and you take a moment to pause, turning back to him. His hands land on your hips, his touch light, and his expression is so familiar it hurts, and you realise he is a little nervous; it’s a very public setting for what should be a very private matter. With cameras going off all around you, you pull him in for a kiss, and he relaxes somewhat, kissing you back with his grip tightening on your hips.
“We’re being paid to be a spectacle.” You remind him, and he nods, smiling softly, and the two of you make your way down the red purple carpet together. You have to stop every few feet to do interviews, and soon enough you had pulled ahead of Ben; he had a much larger part in the film that you did, it wasn’t surprising the reporters wanted to monopolise him. It still felt strange, to turn and not have him there. Sometimes you’d do interviews with the other boys, sometimes he’ll be there, and as the main photo area loomed, you could finally feel the butterflies in your stomach.
Soon.
Perhaps too soon.
“What do you mean you’re going to Egypt?” You snapped, wishing your internet connection was better so he could see you glaring clearly.
“I told you about it ages ago.” Ben sighs, clearly tired. It’s there in his eyes, how drained he is, how hard he’s been working, and your expression softens.
“That’s exciting,” you force yourself to take a breath, it was the first time you two had spoken that fortnight, neither of you needed this to be hostile. The days had started feeling so long when you don’t hear from him; all you want is a damn hug and he’s on the other side of the world. “What if I come visit you?”
“In Egypt?” He asks, eyebrows raised.
“In Egypt.” You confirm, a weak smile on your face, he doesn’t look thrilled by the process.
“Don’t bother.” He sighs, and the moment he sees your expression fall, he realises how his words had sounded, and he’s sitting up straight, panicked look on his face, spluttering his way through an apology. “I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just busy and it’s going to be hot and-”
“No, I get it.” Your dejected sigh was followed by a yawn, and you hovered over the end call button. “When you’re less tired I think we should talk.” You tell him, and you see the confusion, fear, and resignation pass over his face in quick succession.
He agrees quietly, and neither of you really say goodbye before hanging up.
He was tapping on your shoulder as you were halfway through talking to E! News, and you’ve never been more anxious and excited in your life, and never so thankful to not be at the main photo area on a red carpet. His timing was perfect.
“So sorry, could I borrow Y/N for a minute?” He smiles charmingly at the reporter, and his expression softens when he sees the relief in your eyes. 
Before he even starts, it feels off, feels wrong, feels like a performance for the cameras more than anything else. 
“Don’t get teary on me, I know how hard your makeup artists worked.” He begins, and you make sure the cameras catch your surprised confusion. He’s takes one of your hands in his, linking your finger together, and the other holds your face. There’s a moment that passes between you two, his expression softens as he looks in your eyes and it’s as if he’s looking past everything that had happened, the whole setup you’d found yourself in; he was seeing you. 
“This is probably the biggest night of my life,” he starts, taking a deep breath, “for more than one reason; you’re my best friend, you’ve been there for some of the highest points in my life, and some of the lowest. I know you, Y/N, I feel like I’ve known you my whole life, and I want to. I want you there by my side for the rest of it,” it sounds... so much more planned out than you’d expected, so much more heartfelt, and you’d be damned if there weren’t tears in your eyes. Despite the fact that this very private moment had a huge audience, which included a reporter muttering ‘holy shit, is this what I think it is?’, you could only see him. Damn if it didn’t feel real.
“I love you; I’ve loved your since-” his voice catches in his throat, and you see a hint of pain flash across his face before he’s smiling again, “since I first saw you in that damn wig they put you in,” it sounds like an addendum, like he doesn’t really mean it, or like it’s not the whole truth, but it’s enough to make you laugh, and when you look down to hide your embarrassed smile, your tears fall from your eyes, “since you agreed to all of this,” he gestures to himself with a self-deprecating grin, though his double meaning is not lost on you, though his expression turns serious after a moment, “since I first kissed you on set, though that feels like a long time ago.” Your breath catches in your throat, and he sounds like he hadn’t mean to say that last part, his voice too raw, his heart too honest for it to be a truly fake statement. You can do little more than whisper his name in reverence. Gently, so gently, he lifts your head, his thumb wiping the tear track from your cheek. 
“Marry me?” It’s a question this time, and when you look at him with confusion, disbelief written on your face at the way he chose to word it, he laughs softly, sinking to one knee and pulling out the ring box, and revealing the single most frivolous ring you’d ever had the displeasure of seeing. “Will you marry me?” He corrects softly.
The crowd behind you is going absolutely mad behind you, and cameras are going off at an almost blinding rate, but his eyes don’t leave yours. Nodding, you can’t even form words, so caught up in the moment, and he stands, pulling you into a kiss. The flash of cameras surround you like a sea of stars and Ben’s the only thing keeping you on solid ground. His grip is tight enough that he almost lifts you off the ground, and you’re on your tiptoes with his arms around you before his grip loosens, his hands sliding down the small of your back, and for the first time since this whole fake relationship began, he doesn’t hesitate before he deepens the kiss. He tastes like mint and you’re so glad you’re wearing that twenty-four hour lipstick or you know you’d be a mess, and when you pull back, you’re both out of breath, looking at each other with a something akin to awe in your eyes.
You’re pretty sure, in this moment, you love him; nothing fake about it. And you can see it in his eyes that he loves you too. This is dangerous territory for you both.
Stepping back, he takes your hands again.
“I told you not to cry, love.” He laughs gently, voice so soft as you dab at your eyes with your right hand, watching as he slides the ring onto the ring finger of your left hand.
“What can I say, you have a way with words; how long were you working on that speech.” You sniffle, grinning brightly as you examine the ring, still holding his hand. After a beat too long of silence, you look up to see him smiling softly at you.
“A while.” He admits, and something about the way he says it makes your chest ache. The moment passes and he looks down at your joined hands. “That’s fucking hideous.” He whispers, shaking his head at the sight of the ring, and you giggle, preferring to throw your arms around him, kissing him again.
The two of you are the last two to arrive at the formal photo area, with the logo backdrop, and Joe’s grin is confused where he greets you both at the edge of where everyone was in a line getting a group shot.
“What was all the commotion over there?” He asked quietly, and Ben stepped into position easily, slipping an arm around Joe’s shoulders and pulling you in. You were still beaming, you couldn’t help yourself.
“We got engaged.” Ben murmurs to Joe, careful not to draw attention to them, which was immediately counteracted by Joe’s loud ‘What the fuck?!’ “Calm down, man, we didn’t want to take all the focus off of the premiere, you know?” 
As soon as the big group shot was taken, you stepped off to the side as the four boys had their photos taken, and you could see Joe murmuring to the others, while Ben just smiled for the cameras and tried not to blush.
Photos were taken with Brian and Roger, of Rami and Lucy, and even some of you and Ben, and when you posed, you both had an arm around each other, and you leaned into him, resting your hand on his chest with your ring on clear display.
There’s congratulations all around as you’re heading into the theatre, but the biggest shock of the night comes in the form of Roger Taylor wrapping you up in a hug while you’re still glowing with pride.
“Before we go in, I want you to know you did an incredible job, dear. You’re a stunning performer and I never had any doubts about you.” As he says it, you can feel Ben give your hand a gentle squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve got shock written all over your face. “I’m very proud of you both.” He claps Ben on the shoulder, and Ben thanks him quietly. It looks as though he’s about to head in, but he turns back. “Be good to her, you hear?” He says to Ben sternly, but there’s a glimmer of fondness in his eyes, and Ben rolls his eyes good-naturedly. He’s still holding your hand.
“What was that?” You breathed as soon as Roger had left; you feel like you’ve been doused in cold water, though you can’t help but smile.
“Well I think he definitely approves of you playing Amanda.” Ben moves to wrap an arm around you as the two of you head into the theatre, searching for your seats. “And I think... I think he gave us his blessing?” That sounds more confused than anything else, and you don’t know how to respond one way or the other, apart from softly laughing as you sit down next to Lucy. Part of you, the largest part that had stayed sane and not drunk on this fake engagement, is pretty sure Roger’s going to be the hardest to break it to, when everything’s over; part of you worries that without Ben, you’ll lose his approval, which you didn’t realise you’d been craving until you’d received it. There’s an anxiety that builds in your chest as the lights go down, but Ben’s hand is in yours and you lean your head on his shoulder, and you can ignore that little worry for now.
the rat pack: @hotspacedeacon @strangeandwonderfulconcepts @itssaje @d-r-e-a-m-catchme @callumidiot @rockandrollandshit @bohorap @pietrorunsforme @sweetfierceimagines @itsjackothy @mhftrs @sherlockiantheatrenerd @softbenhardy @multifandomgirlrandomstuff @virtualsheepeat @smile-nine @i-padfootblack-things @deaconsroger @spookyfrances @holyurlbatman @your-idiotic-excellency @cosmicsskies @chlobo6 @screaminggalileochickenwrites
(crossed out means it wouldn’t tag; i’ll try again for the next part, lemme know if you wanna be tagged xx)
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bloodline-rpg · 5 years
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Congratulations, Bigby! We have accepted your application for your OC, Tyler Orville (FC  Dane Dehaan) Please create a new blog (not a sideblog) for your character and send us the link via ask box as soon as you can. Along with your link, please let us know what lyric you’d like for us to use for Tyler in his bio if you do not wish to use the one on the skeleton. Welcome to Bloodline!
OUT OF CHARACTER
Name/Alias: Bigby
Age: Twenty-Six (twenty-seven as of jan 26, 2020!).
Preferred pronouns: they/them
Timezone: est
Level of activity (don’t give your activity a number value, please describe how active you will be as best as possible): I work full-time midnight shifts from 11:30pm - 7:30 am. I am gone from the house from 10:30 pm until 8:30 am. I do not get online in my “mornings” but after work I’m usually on for a couple hours before bed. This is/would be my only rp group so I can devote my free time and attention to it outside of regular adult responsibilities. That being said, I do have regular access to tumblr IM and discord while away for plotting and keeping in touch/up to date.
CHARACTER DETAILS
(The Resurrected skeleton).
Character’s Name: Tyler Orville
Desired FC: Dane Dehaan
Character’s Age: Twenty-Seven
Character’s Species: Immortal Witch
Character’s Sexuality: Bisexual
CHARACTER BIOGRAPHY
Tyler lived a fractured childhood. Fragmented moments glimpsed of a possibility, at something forever out of reach. He was born sick. Sick in an ever changing way, as if the unnamed disease that ravaged his body was more than such, as if the very illness were alive. He was their first child born following two miscarriages, two elder siblings he’d never know and he couldn’t help but think bitterly that whatever awful thing nested within his being had been the root cause of their deaths.
Francine Calhoun, his mother came from a long, long line of original witches; the kind of old blood that prided themselves on their lineage so much so that inbreeding had been commonplace in generation’s past. Her courtship and subsequent marriage the kind of witch that barely qualified as a witch. The kind of witch, that if it were a mere man and nothing more; would only go to church on Easter and Christmas and call themselves a devout Christian.  In fact, Teddy Orville hadn’t been much of a witch for the last several years; a decade even, outside of the odd potion infused tea to help during the university crunch before exams anyway.
Much of Tyler’s life was spent in hospitals. Moved from one doctor’s appointment to the next; a seemingly endless stream of doctors approaching his case with first fresh faced enthusiasm and big dreams of curing the incurable before frustration, disappointment, shame…no tests they ran produced conclusive results. Were they absolutely certain it was not environmental? Were they certain it wasn’t all just in his head? What a wicked thing to ask a boy of barely nine years, far too small and too many sharp edges, sunken eyes and blood stained lips.
His parents refused to give up.
Isolated from their magical foundations (your child’s illness, your child’s pain and suffering, your damned spawn’s death is what you deserve for allowing your body, your womb, to be tainted with such a lesser man’s seed) Francine struggled to cope, struggled to combat the evil plaguing her son’s body with her magical abilities coupled with modern medicine. For the time being, Tyler was alive even if that was touch and go; would it not be kinder to let him pass? To let him go?
He drifted from palliative care back to intensive, back to long term; his education was sporadic at best. Not once did he set foot in an actual school and he longed for a life outside these walls; to be like the children he watched on television or read about in his books. He longed for some greater being to come and purge him of this wicked illness in his breast and though his parents struggled to provide him with a life; he wasn’t living, was barely surviving the day: rinse and repeat.
His life changed when he received a clunky laptop at thirteen, it allowed him an unheard of outlet to the world in forums, in chat rooms, through games. He could be anybody. Anyone but himself. And maybe in the beginning he fell in love with that anonymity. He was no longer the sad little sick boy, he could be a regular boy doing regular boy things like going to school, playing sports, and hanging out with his friends. Friends. He began to make those too.  That was new. He’d never had friends that weren’t the nursing staff in the unit he stayed at or the PSWs that came to his home when he was enjoying one of his rare “good” streaks (they never lasted).
There were other children in the pediatric wards of course, but they were never the long term kind of patients. Not like him. There were the odd handful that stayed for a couple months, and some even a couple years but…their endings were not happy ones.
Technology improved with time, not just with his laptop but with medicine. With such improvements came new hope. And new disappointment. Funny that, he thought he’d long been accustomed to the bitter taste. As he got older, his good streaks became less and time spent within the gently titled comfort of his own home became sparse until it became nonexistent. By this point in time, the knowledge of witches had become common; and some younger, braver, perhaps even brasher doctors went against the norm to seek help out in these communities but came up empty handed.
His parents were drowning in debt, in sorrow and their exhaustion showed. Tyler almost wished they hated him. Wished they’d move on. Try again with another baby, a healthy baby. Do it right this time, since he was nothing but wrong.
He’s so young. The staff whispered, pity, sorrow heavy; had been whispering since he was in the single digits. Tyler would be forever young despite being closer to thirty than twenty. His activity in his group chat dropped to an all time low, his oldest friends feared the worst.
And he discovered something unheard of.
It was the kind of discovery one could only stumble upon in the places on the internet that no one should go. Where only those with wicked intent did linger. Immortality. It seemed too good to be true, some old wives tale; some fantasy story straight out of the games he played with his friends (less and less so these days).
Only it was real.
And it was obtainable.
A cure.
I’m a real boy.
Talking about being forever young had never rung so true, the doctor’s were baffled. His family was torn between horror and gratitude. He stood in the hospital garden, barefoot with dirt between his toes (and the odd cigarette butt or two but that’s less romantic) and simply basked in the sun. It was as close to a religious experience as he’d ever experienced, and he’d spent a lot of time praying to an uncaring God over the years. Begging. Pleading. Cursing.
He sent a letter written in a terribly untidy scrawl to Carden Manor requesting the chance to relocate. To discover the culture he’d never had the chance to experience, of witches and wolves and perhaps others like him. After all, it was the only community of their people he could name and maybe he was still on the tail-end of euphoria that had him wanting to throw himself into the deep end so to speak.
Maybe there was something darker there, something darker that festered close to pain towards his parents. Resentment. Anger. They claimed to have exhausted all means but what of this? “It’s something born of the darkest of magic Tyler please…” had it been a line they were unwilling to cross? Had they known about it all along but their morals had them unable to act?  This was an old magic, this wonderful beautiful thing that had been a boon to his ravaged body. This thing that had given him a new lease on life, was to him far more a blessing than any kind of curse. Already accustomed to the taste of (his own) blood on his tongue, the need to consume such a thing to survive was such that he didn’t even bat an eye.
Anger. It simmered, boiled toward all consuming and dark. Terribly, terribly dark. A want for violence, to let his hands hook into claws and act out such emotions; revenge? He wasn’t sure. Though, Tyler was absolutely sure of one thing: he wanted away from them.
Moving to the manor was the second best thing to ever happen to him and he’s all too eager to dive into a life he never thought he’d get the chance to have.
To live.
CHARACTER PERSONALITY
It’s almost painfully obvious that Tyler’s social skills are lacking. Limited socialization during his formative years has left its mark. The bulk of his ability to interact with his peers is stilted and awkward, he can come off as blunt, flat, and even cruel. Withdrawn as though secretive (and he is hiding something, hiding who and what he used to be before his immortality) he comes off as standoffish and every bit some kind of “edgy loner kid” persona. Though he is most comfortable when alone or in front of a keyboard, residing at the manor demands that he evolve past this. As does his new lease on life. He’s trying.
Incredibly self-motivated, Tyler is almost too eager to learn more of the supernatural world to which he’s been removed from for so long. His own magical talent, lacking largely in part due to a lack of proper training. His parents, understandably, had been much too focused on his ailing health. He has a truly impressive repertoire for potions and enchantments; the kinds of witch’s work one can learn from a tome but has very little hands on experience. His frustration for his…otherness that still remains is palpable. As though he hasn’t really changed. And due to such a state, he tends to lash out at his peers which does little to earn him any friends.
He’s used to not having friends, even if he finds himself frustrated with his inability to adapt in this regard. It’s a lot more difficult than he anticipated to reshape himself into somebody, a new and improved version of Tyler Orville.
Some parts of his original self remains, a quiet thoughtfulness, an impossible patience at odds with his frustration, and an optimism he tries to keep buried deep down for fear of coming off over eager and annoying.
PLOTS AND POLITICS
Presently, Tyler stands fairly neutral on the in game political spectrum due largely in part to his inexperience. His outsider status borders on some sort of isolation; which in a way, speaks the truth. He was woefully isolated from his people and hardly had it in him to follow the news much outside of the big events. Like the world discovery their kind in 2016, he saw that; read about it. His friends in the group chat talked about it. A lot. He and his best friend, Alex, fretted in a private chat about the repercussions of such a thing.
He’s not too overly keen on the servitude aspect of other species, finds it rather barbaric if he’s being honest but is well aware of the delicate line he walks here. Outsider. He’s the son of a marrying of a strong bloodline into a weak one, he never once met his Mother’s family and knows nothing of their history. Of their possible feuds. His Father’s family could never hope to hold a torch to such greatness. Tyler straddles the line between a somebody and a nobody.
In this, he could potentially be shaped into a supported of any party with the right guidance. He has power given his immortal status and his bloodline is strong, if watered down some with his Father’s genetics. He could prove to be a promising ally to any party should they wish to court him so.
As far as plots go, I want to explore him well, exploring life in person instead of looking on from the outside in. I want him to interact with his peers from wildly different walks of life and learn more about the world. The world, his world that had been so very small has suddenly exploded into something so grand.
I also have a potential wanted connection for him to offer, in the form of his best friend Alex (who can be played male, female, or non-binary) who is also a supernatural (species up to the potential other mun) and they met playing an unnamed fantasy mmorpg. Alex brought Tyler into their group of friends and they’ve been Tyler’s main friend group ever since. Tyler has gone radio silent before, but this is something new altogether. It’s like he’s dropped off the face of the Earth and Alex fears the worst. What exactly brings Alex to the manor would be 100% up to the other mun but a reunion would absolutely be required and their future interactions and relationship is anyone’s guess!
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ukulelecal · 6 years
Text
Biggest Fan pt. 4
In which you’re a famous singer and Calum is a fan of your music.
Warnings: maybe like one swear, but other than that not really
Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader
Requested By: Anonymous originally
“hi can you do a blurb on calum where you’re also famous and u find out he’s interested in you and low key loves your music? shebjdjsj idk jus make it fluffy and ill love u forever”
A/N: another obnoxiously long wait, another part!!!! finally!! we got some cute calum all up in this bitch YEESS im in love with him. sorry its short (well like not super short but shorter than part 3), i wasn’t sure what else could happen without making it extensive for just one part. but give me some feedback, tell me what you thought!! also, do you guys want more parts? i could probably end it here if yall are done with this, but i also have some ideas for some more things that could happen!!! aka i could kill yall with some cuteness!! or make you cry with some angst!! what do you guys think???
Requests are OPEN!
*Gif not mine*
Series Masterlist
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Your head was pounding. Your stomach was churning. All the telltale signs of a hangover.
A groan fell from your lips, bringing your hand up to rub your eyes. After they adjusted to the light coming in from the windows, you glanced at the bed next to yours; Cara and Sam were still sleeping soundly. Your eyes then fell on the clock, squinting to see clearly. 12:34 PM. You hadn’t even realized you slept that late.
The occurrences of the previous night were one massive blur. You remembered getting ready to leave and meeting up with Calum and Mali, having a couple shots, but after that? Not much came back to you.
It wasn’t until you picked up your phone, seeing a text from Calum, that perhaps the most significant event of the night finally popped into your head.
You admitted your feelings to Calum. You kissed him.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to smile or punch yourself in the face.
Sure, you had been wanting something like that to happen. But, in a club and being totally wasted wasn’t exactly how you imagined it happening. You couldn’t really complain, though. He liked you back.
He liked you back.
Yeah, you had to smile.
You glanced down at your phone again, actually reading the text that Calum sent you.
Calum: I have to get back on the road later today. I really need to see you again before I go.
You bit your lip softly, typing out a reply.
Y/N: Definitely. Where should we meet up?
You set your phone back down on the nightstand to wait for a reply, and kicked the blankets off of you. Might as well start getting ready if you were going to meet up with Calum. You quietly padded to the bathroom, trying not to wake up Cara and Sam, and glanced in the mirror. Oh, yikes. You had managed to change out of your clothes before crashing in bed, apparently, but neglected to remove your makeup. Your eye makeup was smudged everywhere, and your lipstick was smeared a bit.
Well, that probably wasn’t entirely from sleeping.
You grabbed a makeup wipe and cleaned everything off, then thoroughly washed your face. From outside the bathroom, you heard your phone vibrate, and you quickly scurried out to check. There was another text from Calum.
Calum: You can come to my hotel, if that’s okay. I’ll take you back to yours on my way to the airport after.
Y/N: Sounds good, Cal
He proceeded to send you the name of the hotel and his room number, and you scurried over to your suitcase to get some clothes. You decided on something cute but casual, just for a meet up. A pair of mom jeans, and a simple white t-shirt tucked in.
As you went about your morning routine, you pondered exactly what you and Calum were going to talk about. The night before was inevitably going to come up, but that conversation could go in many different directions. You weren’t sure exactly how it would turn out.
Still, you meant every word you had said. You liked him a lot. Although your time together in person was limited, you texted and Skyped him a lot and got to know him very well. You fell for him from miles away.
After you finished getting ready, making yourself look as presentable as possible being quite hungover, you shook Cara and Sam awake, earning tired groans in response.
“You can go back to sleep if you want,” you chuckled. “Just wanted to let you know I’m going to go see Calum for a bit. I shouldn’t be too long.”
Cara grumbled something incoherent and buried her head deeper into the pillows. Rolling your eyes, you reached for the pad of paper and pen that hotels provided, and wrote out a quick note. Chances were, neither of them were going to remember a thing you said, if they even heard you at all.
You slipped on some shoes, grabbed your phone and room key, and headed out the door.
On the way down to the lobby, you put the address to Calum’s hotel into your phone to see how far it was. Turns out, it wasn’t far at all, only a couple blocks away. You decided against calling an Uber; you could walk.
You turned left out of your hotel and started your walk. It went by quickly and uneventfully, and you soon found yourself in the lobby of the hotel Calum was staying at. You headed towards the elevators and went up to the sixth floor, where he had said his room was. You then followed the signs to room 659.
Taking a deep breath, you gently rapped on the door. It opened a couple moments later to reveal Calum dressed in black joggers and a green hoodie with the word “empathy” printed across the front.
“Hey,” he said, a sleepy grin resting on his face. You could tell by the dark circles under his eyes and the disastrous state of his hair, that he was feeling the effects of a hangover as well.
“Hi,” you replied, and he stepped to the side to let you in. Letting the door fall shut behind you, he gestured to the bed, sheets wrinkled and messy from a night of sleep, for you to sit. You gingerly plopped yourself down on the edge, and Calum did the same next to you.
“So, um, have you seen the pictures?” Calum asked, scratching the back of his head as he turned to look at you, face slightly scrunched up. You furrowed your eyebrows at the question.
“What pictures?” You asked, confused. The only thing you had done on your phone was text Calum, not check social media. He sighed and grabbed his phone that was resting on his pile of pillows, and unlocked it; you didn’t want to be nosy, but you couldn’t help but notice that his lockscreen was a photo of his dog, Duke. He had shown you pictures of him when you were in Paris. You smiled a little. Hopefully you’d get to meet the little guy.
Then the familiar blue of Twitter appeared on his screen, and Calum used his thumb to scroll until he found what he was looking for. He clicked on a picture and handed you his phone to see.
Your heart dropped in your stomach a bit as you swiped through the many.
The pictures were all of you and Calum at the club. You were used to having your picture taken when you were just trying to do normal things or have fun, but these weren’t exactly the same. There were a couple of you and him dancing, but the majority were of you and him kissing.
It was those that made you slightly uncomfortable. Calum had you pinned against the wall, hands gripping your hips and your arms thrown around his neck, having a sloppy makeout session. That wasn’t the type of picture you wanted of yourself getting spread around the Internet.
“Oh,” you breathed out softly. Wordlessly, you handed Calum his phone back, gently taking your bottom lip between your teeth.
“I know,” he sighed, tossing the electronic back on the pillows. “I wish they would just leave us alone, you know?”
“Yeah.” It was normal for you to be scrolling through Twitter and suddenly find a picture of yourself walking down the street, getting into your car, having lunch with a friend. It definitely did get pretty annoying. “What are people saying about them?”
Calum sighed again, fiddling with the rings on his fingers.
“Similar things to what they said about the Paris pictures,” he began. “There were more of them that weren’t so nice, I guess.”
“Of course,” you grumbled under your breath, more to yourself rather than Calum. Another thing you were, unfortunately, used to was hate on the Internet. You had seen it all; jabs at your music, your appearance, your clothes, your personality. Most of the time, you tried not to even read it, ignore it the best you could, but curiosity got the best of you every once in a while. Nonetheless, you tried not to let it bother you. “What are we going to do, then?”
Calum hesitated before answering.
“I’m not sure what there is to do. Just don’t acknowledge it, I guess.”
You weren’t sure why you felt a wave of disappointment wash over you.
“And, about last night…” Calum continued, voice trailing off. Your eyes widened a bit.
This had been what you really wanted to talk about. You knew what you were hoping for him to say, but there was always the possibility that he could take it back. Tell you he was drunk and it didn’t mean anything. That you should just keep being friends.
“Did you mean what you said?” He asked, voice soft, and you could hear the slightest shake in his voice. A small smile graced your features.
“Of course I meant it,” you replied, just above a whisper. “I really do like you, a lot.”
Calum smiled, and your smile grew to match his.
“Did you?” You questioned, letting your head fall daintily to the side. Calum chuckled.
“Every word.”
He suddenly stood up, reaching his hand out. You gingerly grabbed it, letting him pull you to your feet and close to him. Looking up to meet his gaze, you found his brown eyes boring into you, and you felt your heart flutter.
Those damn eyes got you every time.
“I don’t think we had a very proper kiss last night,” he mused, running his thumb over your hands that were held between the two of you. “C-Can I kiss you again?”
Calum was mentally cursing himself for stuttering, but you were nodding and smiling fondly up at him, already starting to slowly lean in. He moved his hands to cup your cheeks, closing the distance between you.
This was more like the romantic first kiss you had imagined.
Your hands found his shoulders, letting them rest there.
Your heart was pounding. You were weak in the knees. You were wrapped around his finger.
He felt the same. Ever since he met you in Chicago, he knew you were special. It was a leap of faith for him to tweet you that day, so long ago, and he about died when you replied. He couldn’t be more glad.
The kiss eventually broke, and you stayed with your foreheads resting against each other, dazed smiles on both of your faces. Before either of you had the chance to say anything, Calum’s phone rang from where it sat on the bed. Of course, something had to ruin the moment.
He sighed heavily, mumbling out an apology before reaching for it.
After he hit decline to whoever was calling him, he tossed it down and reached for your hands again.
“I have to leave for my flight,” he sighed, almost sounding upset that he had to go. As much as you wanted to have more time with him, more than just these few minutes, you knew he had a tour to get back to.
“Okay,” you replied, giving his hands a light squeeze. “I can walk back to my hotel.”
“Are you sure? I can ask my driver to drop you off on the way.” You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it. I’m only a couple blocks away.”
He nodded, pulling you in for a hug. You breathed out deeply as you wrapped your arms around his torso, taking in his scent. You knew it would be a while before you saw each other again, maybe not even until after he finished the North American leg of his tour, which was the last one.
You just didn’t want to leave him.
“Text me later, okay?” You mumbled into his chest, eyes unintentionally falling shut.
“Definitely.”
You pulled away from the hug, looking up at him with a grin.
“Bye, Calum.”
“Bye, Y/N.”
Hesitantly, you removed yourselves from each other grasps, and Calum walked you to the door.
Just as you stepped foot into the hallway, Calum grabbed your wrist and spun you around.
“One more,” he breathed out, pulling you in for another kiss. You melted into it. How was a simple kiss so heavenly?
“Now I’m good,” he chuckled when he pulled away, and you couldn’t help but laugh a little as well. You bid your final goodbyes, and before you knew it, you were on your way back to your hotel.
After you returned and relayed every single detail of what happened onto the finally awake Cara and Sam, you decided to spend the day relaxing by the pool.
You were laying out on your chair, catching some California sun, when the thought came to you; you and Calum for sure liked each other, but nothing ever became official. What were you?
You wanted to wait, didn’t want to seem desperate, but it was nagging you. Did shared feelings and a few kisses mean you were together? Official? Unofficial?
Letting out a deep breath, you reached for your phone, typing a simple, straightforward text out to Calum.
Y/N: Cal? What are we?
You weren’t expecting a reply right away, assuming he was probably on the plane, but much to your surprise, you got one just a few minutes later.
Calum: I mean, I kind of wanted to ask you this in person, but that depends on how you answer this question
The typing bubbles appeared, signalling he was still typing. You bit your lip as your heart pounded in your chest. The next text couldn’t come soon enough.
Calum: Would you like to be my girlfriend, Y/N?
And everything suddenly seemed like it fell into place.
Y/N: I would love to be your girlfriend, Calum. And I would love for you to be my boyfriend
Calum: You’re fucking adorable. I wish I was there to kiss you right now
You giggled a little, covering your mouth with your hand.
Y/N: Can’t wait until I see you again so we can do boyfriend-girlfriend things like kissing xo
Calum: Soon, just a few weeks left. I’m boarding now, I’ll call you later, ok?
Y/N: Ok. Have a safe flight!
His response was a few heart emojis, and you locked your phone. There was no way in hell you could wipe the smile off your face.
It was official. Boyfriend-girlfriend official.
“What’s got you smiling like that?” Cara asked, returning with Sam from the bar where they had been getting drinks. You giggled, covering your face with your hands.
“He asked me out,” you mumbled from behind your hands, earning excited squeals from your friends.
“Now we can like, go on double dates and stuff!”
You laughed at the comment from Sam, finally removing your hands from your face.
It was surreal, but it was happening. After he tweeted you never thought you’d end up dating. After Chicago, it was a thought in your mind. After Paris, you wanted it. Now, here you were.
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belllaculllen · 5 years
Text
Edwards POV when he thinks Bella killed her self
It was a pretty dull day  but my life has been pretty dull since I left forks, since i left..... i could feel my face wince with pain, if i could cry i know i would. Speaking her name, the one who holds my heart so dear, only tortures me, i try everything to forget her but its like someone slowly tearing me limb from limb and feeling that pain when they light me on fire, which i wholey deserved after how i treated her.... but it had to be done, it was for her safety! I'm to dangerous for her..... i deserved to suffer. As I sit in this dingy and abandoned apartment looking over the city, i missed her..... her hair, how beautiful it was, long just past her shoulders, shiny and so soft, the way it shined in the light you could see a tint of red. Her lips such a beautiful heart shape, the color of a light pink rose i could almost still feel them in mine. her skin almost as soft as her lips i could hold her all day, i shook my head trying to shake her memory from my head, its wrong.... i can't think of her..... it only makes it harder to stay away.  
Its been hours, i should probably move..... i don't know why i have no will for anything, i have nothing to live for, the only thing i lived for if you call what i do living was for .... her. i leaned forward and put my face in my hands, what to do with my self, just as i was sinking to deep into my own self pity i heard my phone ring, the only people to have this number was My family, i looked at the caller ID, ugh i sighed, Rosalie, i wonder what insult she has came up with today, as much as i didnt want to answer the phone i begrudgingly pressed the talk button “Hello Rosalie how can i help you today” wow hearing my own voice i sound so pitiful and then i hear Rose on the other end with slight panic “Edward! Alice just left for Forks...... Bella is gonna try and kill her self” the moment i heard the words, her name, the first time i have heard it in months, then i realized the sentence Rosalie had said it in, I froze in such anger, how could this happen, i had to make sure for my self i had to interrupt Rosalie from saying my name repeatedly “Rose.......i have to go.” she replied “Edward don't you dare do any-” i cut her off my voice so low, i felt like i didnt even have a voice “Thank you for youre call” i slammed the phone down, i knew i had to make the phone call.... i dialed the number i knew so well, it rang a few times until a familiar voice answered on the other end, i couldn't tell who though, maybe it was charlie, i realized i needed to respond “Hello is Charlie home.” in a very quick and angry response on the other end i hear “No, he's arranging a funeral” then the dial tone... i felt everything in me freeze, if i had a beating heart i would feel it drop....  it must be true. My Love... My Bella..... what have i done. I crush the phone in my hands, so much anger and emotion in me that i never knew possible..... I did this, this is all my fault ...... there is only one thing to do. 
As I ran through the forest, at the speed of light, i knew i would make it to Volterra by sunrise, perfect timing just enough time to talk to Aro for my request.... to die. 
Running feeling the earth move underneath my feet, i tried holding back screams, for screaming is how i release the emotion of crying ...... for the anger and pain i could feel in every core of my being, she's not here, how come i am here and she is not, she's not here..... she's not .... i couldnt take it any more i let out with such force and anger “SHES NOT HERE!” I stopped running, i couldn't help but collapse, holding my knees to my chest i cried “BELLA!” wishing the screaming would bring her back .... that some miracle would happen.... as i sat cradling my legs in the pitch black forest, my voice cried, i pleaded with god to bring her back to me, and apologized for all things Ive done if i could just have her back..... I knew i needed to get up and keep running .... for if i wanted to get to Volterra in time i would need to get on my feet now, but i couldn't move .... I wish i could hold her again ... 
Around 4:00 AM i got back on my feet, a little behind schedule but that wasn't gonna stop me, i couldn't live any longer .... knowing she isn't on this earth any more, then why should i be.... 
I got to Volterra around 6:00AM, i don't think i have ever ran as fast in my life, as i approached the doors to the home of Aro, Marcus, and Caius ... I became .. eager to get this over with. The gaurds looked at me with caution, they probably though i was som rabid new born with how i looked, i hadn't changed since her birthday party, My blue button down shirt completely torn in a few places, i had dirt everywhere, Animal blood stains on my pants, I looked at them “Hello, Im Edward Cullen. Carlisle Cullens son” with out a word they separated to let me through, I slid through very quickly, i saw they had a new Secretary, Human of course, i just nodded my head to let her know i was cleared and walked in.  The last time i was in this room, I can't even recount, i didnt visit the volturi very often for i wasn't very fond of Aros ways... i felt he was unfair and cruel... but i would not dare think those thoughts if i wasn't planning to die already since Aro can hear and see every thought you have ever had just by touching you. My thoughts were interrupted my Aros loud and overly excited tone “AWWW HELLO EDWARD MY OLD FRIEND!” he sat up and walked toward me “To what pleasure do we ow your visit today friend” I hated this man with every being in my body ..... I almost hated him as much as i hated my self, no need to appease him for there was no point “Aro, i wish to die” Aros face dropped, he was so confused when one of us wanted to die, he didnt understand for he thought being one of us, a monster was so amazing, He looked at me and stepped a little closer “Edward, now that would be a waste wouldn't it, why don't you join us” he paused and smiled so big and opened his arms in a welcoming way to look at all that was a round us, i didnt think it was so great at all, he continued “Here! in the volturi, youre gifts are much to powerful to just kil off you see” As much as i tried to pay attention to what anyone was doing, i couldn't... All i could do was see her face “Aro i wish to no longer live, i do not wish to join you” Aro clasped his hands together and looked at me with disapproval and pity “Im sorry Edward” and with that i walked out of the room.... I had to come up with a plan to make it where they would have to kill me. some thing that they would have no choice. 
I Sat underneath a tree, it was pretty shady which was good because it was so sunny, as i thought i saw a young girl walk by... and then it hit me, Its was the festival! and it was sunny. A rule that the volturi have never forgiven is showing our selves in the sun to a group of people, exposing us really, they would kill me instantly, its perfect, ill do it at noon. now where is there most sun.... I looked around the grounds and there it was, the clock tower, it was most sunny and most visible by the people over there, it was sure to work, I stood up and ran faster then anyone could notice so i could inside the door and sit until it was time. 
I kept looking at the time, for the first time in forever time was going slow...all i could think about was her, my dead heart ached, I've tried all day to distract my self so i could get here to get the job done, i shouldn't be on this earth,  but finally as i looked, it was 5 minutes til noon. I stood in preparation, I took off my button down..
 even though i didnt need it, i took a deep breath, 1 minute. I stood by the door and got ready to open it, i heard the commotion of the festival out side, and then i opened the doors. I could feel the sun on my skin, it felt good, I whispered “Bella, i love you” as i said the words i felt something slam into me, i smelled a familiar scent, strawberry shampoo, and then i realized what i had been hearing, the most amazing voice i have ever hear “Edward! Edward open your eyes!” I opened my eyes and there she was, my love, It happened they did it, and so fast, I'm with my love, what did i do to deserve.... Heaven, what did i do to deserve Bella, I spoke “Heaven” and i grasper her hair gently, while gently stroking it, then i felt her push me and it wasn't light anymore, and i realized i didnt die, and she was actually here, coming to the realization i had no control I grasped her hair and pulled her closer to me and crushed my lips into hers, she was so warm, so soft, just like i remembered but better, i held her so close i never wanted to let go, she responded the same way i was reacting, and in the moment i realized i needed her and she needed me ..... forever as our lips separated i looked in her beautiful deep brown eyes with all the joy capable in the world i said “Youre alive”
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your-iron-lung · 5 years
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No Shade in the Shadow of the Cross 10
aka ‘The House That Dripped Blood’; available to read on AO3 HERE
Story Synopsis:  Some weird low-key occult parties start popping up that Steve can’t in good conscience ignore and takes it upon himself to investigate. Billy gets caught up in the consequences of his meddling, and isn’t it funny? For all the strange things the Upside Down has thrown his way, it’s werewolves that Steve has trouble accepting exist.
Chapter Word Count: 7927
Pairings: Eventual Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington
Genre: Supernatural/Drama/Horror-ish
Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9
Next Chapter: 11
Notes: if you follow me you may have noticed i havent posted in a while- this is bc i spend all my time playing ffxiv instead of setting aside determined amounts of time to spend on writing/drawing and i have a bunch of artist alleys coming up that im ill prepared for and im terrible at budgeting UH YEP bad excuse but WHAT CAN YA DO here we are
(ive also set up a ko-fi account if you want to give drop me some tippy tips if u enjoy the word things i do) ((no pressure tho))
"Bigfoot."
Hopper leaned back in his chair; let it creak and groan under his weight until he knew it was at its limit, and then pushed it a little more. He studied the no-nonsense expression on the hunter before him, and intrinsically knew that the man was speaking truth.
"Bigfoot," the old man said again, speaking a little sterner than he had before once he recognized Hopper's amiable expression of disbelief. "I seen't him out in the woods just the other day."
The aging man had lumbered into the police station almost immediately after Hopper came in, bundled in some worn hunting gear that looked almost as old as he was. The deputies had offered to speak with him after hearing his initial claim, but they'd been refused when Callahan couldn't stop smirking. The old hunter had insisted on speaking with Hopper, who leaned forward now, taking the stress off of his chair to take a sip of the coffee Florence had brought in for him. He didn't look at the old man as he drank.
"So let me get this straight," Hopper began, setting his coffee aside to rub at his forehead, "you came in first thing in the morning worried about a missing friend of yours, but now you're telling me you're worried about Bigfoot."
"You know me, Jim," the hunter said, a slight hint of pleading desperation edging out of his voice. "You know I ain't some crazy old coot. I ain't seen Lamm in a long while, and yessir I'm worried 'bout him, but when I went out to his cabin to check on him I seen it: I seen Bigfoot!"
As incredulous as the claim was, Hopper believed him- not about it being Bigfoot, exactly, but he believed that the man had seen something out there in the woods, and it had the possibility of being that something he'd spent the last two weeks fruitlessly searching for.
Regardless, he didn't want to let the old hunter know he was taking him seriously. The last thing he needed was for his community to think he believed in this sort of nonsense, but people in town were going missing, and people he knew were getting hurt: if his only lead should turn up in the form of an old man believing he'd caught sight of an urban legend, then so be it. He'd follow it through, but he'd be subtle about it.
"You sure it wasn't just a trick of the light or something, Wes? You know your eyes aren't what they used to be," Hopper remarked casually, softening his voice to let him down easy. "And this isn't the first time Lamm's gone missing; you know he's one of those types of shut ins. Remember those weeks he was gone hunting 'vampires'? He's the kind of guy who lives in his own head more than he lives out here, he'll turn up again on his own time."
The hunter's lips twitched into a frown. "Alright, maybe Lamm is a little off kilter," he relented, averting his eyes for a second, "and maybe it weren't Bigfoot, but the tracks it left were huge 'n mighty, by God, and I ain't seen nothin' else like it before. If it weren't Bigfoot, then at the very least it had big feet, Jim, and I ain't never seen feet quite like 'em."
Interest piqued, Hopper became more attentive. "How's that?"
"Well, they was stretched out lookin', for one." The hunter paused, tilting his head slightly as he tried to recall the details of what he'd seen out in the woods. He held his hands up, spaced apart in an approximation of how long the prints he'd found had been. "Human lookin', almost, which is what had me thinkin' it coulda been Bigfoot. They weren't the tracks of somethin' native 'round here, and I only caught but the barest glimpse of it, but it was tall, Jim; taller'n you or I."
That sounded right; the prints he'd found and unsuccessfully tracked were, as the hunter said, 'huge 'n mighty' and matched the description of what he'd just been told. It didn't take an expert's opinion (though he had consulted one) to discern that the markings just weren't natural. Hopper set his mug of coffee aside and pulled out a notepad from one of his desk drawers. He uncapped a pen and held it to the page for a moment before writing down a few preliminary notes for himself on the top line.
The hunter cocked his head and leaned forward to look at what he was writing and said, "That don't look official."
"Because it's not; this one's just gonna be between us, alright?" Hopper said, looking up to meet Wesley's blue, watery eyes. He held the stare long enough to get his point across, waiting for a sign of affirmation before looking back to the notepad and pressing the tip of the pen to the paper. "Tell me where and when exactly you saw this 'Bigfoot' of yours."
The day was cold and grey at its start, with harsh, biting winds ushering in thick clouds that blocked out any hope of the sun ever making an appearance. Steve eyed the sky apprehensively as he made his way back to his car, wary of the way the clouds looked as though they might start dropping hail on him at a moment's notice. Billy feigned disinterest as Steve opened the rear passenger door and leaned in to shove the box of things he'd bought at the Hunting & Camping store into the backseat. Even with his vision obscured in part by the sunglasses he'd elected to wear, he didn't miss the strong look of annoyance that graced Steve's features when he came around to the driver's seat and entered the car with a pout.
"That guy give you a hard time or something?" Billy asked as Steve buckled in and put the BMW into reverse, turning in his seat to hastily jerk the car out of the parking lot. "Why do you look like someone shit in your cereal?"
Steve clicked his tongue. "He just kept asking what a 'kid like me' needed with a bunch of chains and rope and shit. My god, he just would not let it go, like he thought I was trying to build my own sex dungeon or something. Fucking annoying."
"You mean that's not what we're doing?" Billy asked, grinning a bit at the way Steve's face pinched up in disgust. "What'd you say?"
"I told him the truth; said it was to tie up a werewolf. 'It's a full moon tonight, y'know? Gotta tie 'em down or they go all crazy on you', I said to him, and you know what he said to me then?" Steve asked, speeding out of the little downtown shopping area Hawkins played host to and sounding every bit as gossipy as Carol did when she caught wind of a scandal.
"How the fuck would I?" Billy drawled, turning away from the conversation to watch the scenery pass by disinterestedly.
"He said, 'Damn fool kids will never learn'," Steve said, ignoring him. "'Damn fool kids will never learn', like, what the hell does that mean?"
Billy shrugged. "Who knows? As long as he accepted daddy's plastic then what does it matter?"
Steve clicked his tongue again in annoyance and rolled his eyes. "Fuck you."
Feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on, Billy declined to retort. They rode on in silence, the chains in the box Steve had bought clinking together softly in the backseat before the radio was finally turned on to mask the sound.
Regardless of whether or not Steve actually believed something was going to happen to Billy that night, he couldn't deny that the whole day leading up to that evening just felt… off. From meeting up with Billy earlier that afternoon to go by the camping store, to grabbing lunch together before heading over to the Henderson's house, it all felt wrong.
It was something Steve had difficulty pinpointing the origins of, but as they began work on clearing out enough space in the cellar for Billy to do whatever it was he thought he was going to do, he soon came to realize that the feeling of wrongness seemed to stem from Billy himself.
Few words could better describe Billy than 'annoying' or 'smart-mouthed', but he'd been uncharacteristically tight-lipped all day. He'd become a remarkably dull version of himself, and Steve wasn't sure quite how to handle that.
Usually one to argue and bite back at everything Steve said, when he'd begun dishing out instructions on how best to clear out some floor space in the cellar, Billy hadn't talked back to him a single time; merely lit a cigarette and blinked at him slowly, silently acknowledging what had been asked of him before getting on with it.
It was unsettling. Steve could almost say that he hated how submissive Billy was because of how used he'd gotten to the back-talk and smart-ass remarks Billy usually had ready for him, and though, yes, there were times he had wished for this kind of attitude from him, the silence and absolute subordination coupled with all of the other behavioral changes Billy was exhibiting were enough to set Steve on edge.
Billy kept tonguing the gaps in his teeth where they'd fallen out over the course of the week, and he never seemed to realize he wasn't alone. Sometimes he'd jump at the sound of Steve's voice, or shake his head and crease his brow in confusion when he turned around to see Steve moving stuff somewhere behind him, but arguably the worst part of it all was that he stank.
He'd tried to mask it with an overabundance of cologne that had nearly suffocated Steve when they began working in closer quarters, but buried beneath that was a hint of something that smelled awfully rotten. If he had to, Steve could liken it to the stench of the monster they'd encountered in the woods, but he chose not to, instead chalking it up to a severe case of nervous b.o. or something. The implications that the scents could be related bothered him too deeply to believe, and even then he wasn't sure he really wanted to know what the source of the smell was.
The stench of decay emanating from Billy's person was worrisome enough on its own, but with so much to do in order to get ready before sunset, Steve had a hard time figuring out where to primarily apply his focus: there were simply too many things going on for him to worry about one thing more than another.
The giant hole in the wall that Dart made to tunnel out of the cellar was his immediate concern, but Dustin had done a good job of hiding it from his mother by placing a tall shelf in front of it, essentially blocking it off. That didn't mean it wasn't entirely inaccessible, but Steve wasn't sure what more he could do about it. In all honesty, he'd forgotten about it until he'd tried to move the shelf aside and then found himself peeking into the eerie tunnel. He'd knocked over several things in his haste to put the shelf back in place, but Billy hadn't seemed to notice it, and if he didn't, maybe he wouldn't think to use it if- or when- he lost himself to whatever supernatural effects he was experiencing.
"Big if, though," Steve muttered aloud to himself. Turning away from the shelf, he looked over to where Billy was inspecting some old power tools, turning a nail gun over in his hands before setting it back in the box he'd pulled it out of. "So, are we good or what? This baby-proofed enough for you?" Steve asked, startling Billy out of whatever ruminations he'd been lost to.
Billy looked at Steve blankly, face impassive and emotionless. He frowned, and then looked around himself as though he'd forgotten where he was. When he spoke, his voice was monotone and devoid of his usual arrogance as he said, "I don't know, Harrington; is it?"
"You tell me, man, this was your idea." Steve watched as Billy returned his focus on the box of tools he'd originally been rummaging through. Picking up a hammer, Billy balanced its weight in his hands before gripping the handle tightly. Steve distrusted the look in Billy's eye as he held it. "What are you, a child? Quit rifling through their shit, put it back," he said.
Billy didn't reply or even acknowledge that he'd heard him. Ignoring Steve's demand, he stepped up to the abandoned work bench to splay his left hand out over the wood and lifted the ballpeen up.
"What the fuck are you doing? Put it down," Steve said again, his voice rising slightly in pitch when he understood what Billy was doing. He started towards him in an effort to stop him, but halted when the hammer was brought crashing down.
It missed his hand, but the force of the impact splintered the wooden table's surface. Steve gaped as Billy turned around, a cocky little smile turning up his lips.
"Someone could get hurt real bad down here if they weren't careful, huh, Harrington?" he said, a fierceness that Steve hated to admit he'd missed charging his voice. "But we've been real careful cleaning this shithole out, haven't we, pally?"
"You sick piece of shit, give me that," Steve snapped, snatching the hammer away from Billy's pliant grip. "Fuck you, Hargrove; you could've just said you wanted to move this shit out of here."
"Had you pegged as being more of a visual learner," Billy sneered as Steve threw the hammer back into the box of tools. "Your concern was touching, though, really."
"You're the one who came asking me for help, fuckface. Begged me, almost, if I'm remembering right. 'Oh, Steve, help me, I'm so scared of fake movie monsters!'"
Steve hadn't meant to rise to the taunt, but Billy's insufferable attitude had him stooping to his level as he hoisted the hefty box of tools in his arms and lugged them over to the stairway. Billy laughed dryly at Steve's mocking tone.
"We both wish that fucking thing had been fake," he said as Steve placed the box on the ground at the foot of the stairs beside the box of supplies he'd bought earlier. They were both quiet for a moment, their attempt at a conversation dying as quickly as it had been brought on.
"Only one thing left to do then," Steve said morosely.
Billy blinked and turned to face the stairway, eyes rising slowly up to where the cellar doors were propped open wide. Steve felt the guilt of having to lock him in prematurely and had to remind himself that he wanted to be locked in.
"Better hop to it then, Harrington," Billy said lowly, lips curling back into a familiar grin, but without all his teeth in place to flesh it out, Steve found the display to be more unsettling than annoying. "Let's get this sex dungeon set up."
Steve grimaced. "Not even in your wildest dreams, Hargrove."
"Nothing's off the table in my dreams, pretty boy." Billy breathed out a small laugh at the disgusted look on Steve's face, but the grin he'd been displaying slowly fell away. "Is it getting dark yet?"
"Uh, kind of, but the sun hasn't set yet," Steve replied, stepping up into the stairwell to check the status of the sky. It was as dull and grey as it had been all day, the overcast weather acting as a harbinger for the snowfall the local meteorologist had foretold was coming. "If you took off those fucking sunglasses you'd be able to tell."
"These are for your benefit as much as mine," Billy snapped, frowning suddenly.
"Yeah, okay, whatever that means," Steve said dismissively as he began to fish out the cords of rope from the box, letting them spool out onto the ground before gathering them into his hands. "How do you uh, how do you want to do this?"
"Aw, is this kitten's first time tying someone up?" Billy purred, not moving from where he stood in the middle of the cellar, directly under the light. "Who knew 'King' Steve's favourite flavor was vanilla."
Steve rolled his eyes as he brought the ropes over, wrinkling his nose at the mixed smell of rot and cologne that got stronger with proximity. "I've dated girls kinkier than you'd know what to do with," he retorted as he gestured for Billy to hold out his hands.
"Oh please," Billy said with a snort, "there are no kinky girls in Hawkins or I would've found them by now."
"You're obviously not looking hard enough," Steve muttered in response, gesturing again for Billy to hold out his hands.
Shrugging out of his leather jacket and tossing it over the work table he'd splintered, Billy held his hands up obediently and watched stoically as Steve wound the rope around his wrists, binding his hands together roughly.
"What's should our safe word be?" Billy teased, smirking as Steve wound another, longer length of rope over the original knot.
"There is no safe word because this isn't a sex thing!" Steve insisted angrily.
Flustered, he sighed irritably as he wound the long part of the rope around Billy's waist, hating how close he had to get in order to make sure the rope was tight enough, though Billy seemed to be enjoying how close he'd gotten. He kept shifting his weight around, trying, it seemed, to get Steve into a more compromising position. Annoyed, but determined to finish, Steve did his best to ignore Billy's constant movement and the disgusting, rotten musk that was wafting off of his person to finish tying him up.
"Why do you fucking stink so goddamn badly?" Steve finally asked with a scowl, repressing the urge to gag as he tied the ropes off into a clumsy knot. He stumbled away from Billy, reaching up to pinch his nostrils shut so he wouldn't have to smell the rot anymore, but the rancid scent seemed to have lodged itself deep into his nose. "You smell like a dead Calvin Klein model or something, holy shit, did you use a whole fucking bottle?"
The amusement Billy had held while taunting Steve left his face. His smirk shrunk into an awkward grimace as he looked away in embarrassment.
"I don't know, alright?" he admitted bitterly. "It doesn't matter how much I bathe, and between that and my eyes I have no idea what the fuck's going on with me."
"What about your eyes?" Steve asked hesitantly, unsure if he really wanted to know the reasoning behind why Billy had insisted on wearing sunglasses all day.
Billy faltered for a moment, hesitating briefly before reaching up and plucking the sunglasses off his face. With both hands bound together, he awkwardly folded the legs against the lenses and tucked them into the collar of his button up. He turned his gaze to Steve, who couldn't help but suck in a slight breath of surprise.
His eyes were so bloodshot they looked ready to start bleeding straight out of the sockets. There were hardly any whites left in the sclera to be seen as Billy winked at him, looking immensely uncomfortable at the way Steve was gaping openly at him.
"Do they- hurt? Or whatever?" Steve asked, unconsciously taking a few steps forward to get a better look. In the dim lighting of the basement, even the blues of Billy's eyes looked reddish.
"What's it to you if they do?" Billy snapped, suddenly irritable. He squared his jaw and looked away, unable to face the amount of concern Steve was showing him.
The worry Steve felt for the both of them in that moment grew stronger as he backed off, letting the matter of the changes in Billy's physicality drop, despite how alarming they were. "If I don't hear anything an hour after the sun goes down, I'll let you out," Steve said abruptly as he walked backwards towards the stairwell, grasping for the hand rail behind him blindly, unsure why he was so reluctant now to let Billy out of his sight. It was what they'd agreed upon earlier, and he said it meaning for it to sound reassuring, but the way Billy's lips twitched made it apparent he didn't interpret it that way.
Billy didn't respond.
"Well, uh, I guess that's it then," Steve said as he bent down, placing his box of chains atop the box of tools Billy had been messing around with before lifting them up together to carry them up and out of their man-made dungeon.
The cellar doors shrieked loudly as they were closed, a high pitched agony that erupted when the metal grinded against itself uncooperatively. Steve didn't mind that so much as he hated the sound the chains made as he wove them through the door handles, reminding him of what he was doing and who he was imprisoning as the steel rattled sharply against the doors. He winced at the commotion, but continued to loop them through the small door handles until no more could be fit between them. He tested their sturdiness by attempting to pull them open, and to his pleasure, they remained shut. The doors were secured; the cellar, as far as he was concerned, was now a suitable prison. All that was left of him now was to play the role of the jailor appropriately.
He stared down at his handiwork for a moment before the cold, blowing winds prompted him to seek shelter. Already a few snowflakes were fluttering out of the sky, flying into his cheeks as he turned away, re-gathering the box of tools in his arms and headed for the door Dustin promised he'd leave a key for.
Searching under the backdoor mat, Steve found the promised key, and true to the rest of Dustin's word, the entire home was empty, save for the cat that chirped a greeting for him from atop the kitchen counter. With a deep intake of breath Steve glanced at his watch, stepped inside, and shut the door behind him, wondering if he really was prepared for the worst. In the trunk of his car his bat waited for him, ready to be put to use just in case shit really did hit the fan, but he found himself questioning if he'd really be able to use it; bludgeoning monsters to death was one thing, but turning it on a boy he knew was only a monster figuratively was something else entirely.
For both his and Billy's sakes, he hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Shrugging out of his thick coat, Steve set it down beside him as he took a seat on the Henderson's couch. He glanced at his watch again, dismayed by the fact that time wasn't progressing as fast as he wished it was and sat in anxious worry about what the rest of the night might have in store.
But at least he was comfortable and warm.
The cellar was not.
It wasn't the cold that Billy minded, so much as it was the anticipation: when would the transformation start? Exactly at sundown? A little before? A little after? Would he actually end up transforming? And why the fuck did the word 'transform' make him so damn uncomfortable? The unknown factors surrounding his circumstances were almost worse than any of the physical symptoms he'd been experiencing as of late, and he'd been experiencing a lot.
Anxiety wasn't something Billy had a lot of experience with, but it was the only thing he could think of that explained why his heart had been beating oddly all day. It was running at a notably higher rate, as though he'd been playing basketball or working out extraneously, and brought on palpitations he wasn't used to dealing with at the elevated speed.
In short he felt terrible. His whole body ached like it was going through puberty again. Both his arms and legs were sore in ways that mimicked the aches that came with growing pains when he'd had them, but he couldn't understand why he would begin to hurt in that way again. He hadn't had the energy to work out in two days despite eating practically anything he could get his hands on, so the soreness in his limbs was unwarranted. Either his body was preparing itself for the coming night, or he was having an incredibly drawn-out heart attack.
Standing at the foot of the stairwell, Billy felt the cold permeating in through the closed opening and moved away to find a better spot to wait. He wanted rub his arms to bring some warmth into them, but couldn't with the way they were bound. Already the ropes were beginning to dig into his wrists, rubbing uncomfortably against his skin as he realized he wasn't actually that cold anyway, despite the frigid weather; his body temperature had been on a steady incline leading up to now, leaving him with a rosy complexion and a near constant fever, the long-term effects of which left him feeling severely disoriented.
He could barely remember meeting up at Steve's house only a few hours ago to carpool to his kid friend's house, riding with the windows down in spite of the severe wind-chill as they went into town to get lunch and buy rope. Even though they'd ridden together, he couldn't remember now if they'd actually talked about anything or not. All he could remember were the low tones of the radio and the resonating throbs of the wind as it swooped in through the open windows, rushing to fill the audial space between them. It was as though his mind had been steeped in a fog, and he couldn't accurately think through it: everything was clouded over, incomprehensible, like waking up the morning after a bender and being unable to remember everything he'd done the night before, but knowing all the same that he'd taken part in some memorable shit.
Would there be pain, he wondered, and would it come on as suddenly as it had to the character in the movie he'd made Steve watch? Even though 'American Werewolf' was just a movie, stories like that had to spawn from some sort of truth, didn't they?
The dim little lightbulb that hung overhead flickered briefly, drawing Billy's attention to it as he took a seat at the work table's bench, wishing his eyes weren't a dry and sore as they were.
Coming from above, he could hear the muffled sounds of a TV show permeating through the cellar's ceiling. He couldn't help but think ill of Steve in that moment, but if their situations had been reversed, he probably would have been doing the same thing; he couldn't fault Harrington for finding a way to pass the time, though he wished he had something similar to do for himself. There was nothing interesting to hold his attention, and time passed at a dreadfully slow rate.
Stretching out on the bench, he laid himself down slowly, mindful of which parts of his back hurt the most, and gazed up at the cement overhead disinterestedly. He listened to the muffled sounds of the distant television, trying to conjure an image in his mind that corresponded with what little dialogue he could hear, but the rapid beating of his heart overpowered the noises coming from the TV. He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing in an attempt to lower his heart rate, but it just kept going, pounding in a determined rhythm that seemed to be quickening with each passing minute. A bead of sweat trickled down from his scalp and over his ear as he wondered if the tingling he felt in the tips of his fingers was because of the cold or from the ropes being tied too tight.
He flexed his fingers, opening and closing his hands into a fist to try and bring sensation back into his fingertips, but to no avail. They remained numb, and the cause of which eluded him.
Frowning, Billy stiffly sat up and began to pinch at his skin, belatedly realizing that the numbness was spreading slowly down the lengths of his fingers, a sensation that sent a chill running down the length of his spine.
"Oh," he said. "Oh shit."
The pain, when he finally did begin to feel it, started in his feet. There were still thirty minutes before the sun went down.
Billy licked his lips nervously as he tried to get his boots off, his numb fingers and bound hands fumbling uselessly with the laces as the pain centralized in his toes and grew in sudden intensity. He was no stranger to pain, but this was unlike anything he'd ever felt before: it was sharp and stabbing, with each throb of pain stemming from the bones in his toes, as though they were growing more pointed in an attempt to pierce their way through his skin as they elongated. He could feel them cracking; each joint slowly popping free of itself as the bones began to push themselves forward.
"Oh, shit," he repeated, and could hear the muffled sounds of a laugh track from whatever sitcom Steve had turned on upstairs roaring in delight as he struggled to finally pull his boots off.
The stabbing sensation didn't relent, even once his shoes lay discarded by his feet. He peeled away his socks with shaking hands and stared down at his toes.
They'd turned a bright, beet red and were bulging like they might burst apart, his skin bubbling up around toenails that were already starting to peel off. He couldn't help the whimper as he tentatively felt them, a pain like touching a freshly popped, skinless blister causing him to draw his fingers back.
It was real. It was happening.
Sweating freely now, he reached away from his feet to brush his dampened hair away from his forehead as sweat rolled down the sides of his face. He paused when he felt his hair pull free from his scalp, clinging to the back of his hand stubbornly. Billy stared at the loose, curly strands with a horrified expression and reached up with a shaking hand to grab more. When he pulled, a handful of his hair came away easily, eliciting another whimper from deep within his throat. Disgusted and frightened, he threw his hair away to the floor.
Breathing quickly, he hastily rubbed his hands free of the loose strands in a panic and tried to calm himself. His whole body trembled as he breathed in deeply through his nose, wondering if he should try to call out to Steve to alert him that the worst case scenario was indeed unfolding. Another laugh track from upstairs came through the ceiling as he felt a sharp, sudden stab of pain in his ribs, prompting him to gasp loudly and curl forward over himself. He could actually feel some part of his ribcage shifting inside his torso as he tucked his arms in to his sides. Any lingering thoughts of trying to remain calm left him as he transitioned from panic to full on fear.
He stood up not knowing what he was going to do, but regretted it instantly: as soon as he put weight on his foot, his ankle collapsed in on itself and brought him to the floor. A shout almost came out with his fall, but he managed to internalize the pain as he was used to doing and grit his teeth as his foot essentially broke itself in half.
The central part of his foot that arched snapped without warning. Billy swore loudly and reached for his foot instinctively, wanting to hold the break in place, but he couldn't bear the agony that came with the contact. Warm tears leaked from his eyes, and when his other lateral arch also split in half, he couldn't help but cry out.
From up above, the noises coming from the television ceased. Steve must have heard him and was listening for him now, trying to gauge whether or not he should intervene. Billy clenched his jaw tighter, determined to keep quiet, but gasped loudly when two of his molars gave out under the pressure, snapping to the side and coming loose of his gumline. The copper taste of blood filled his mouth as he spat the teeth out, shuddering uncontrollably when he felt the vertebrae in his spine begin to pop, one by one, pushing up against his skin that was quickly beginning to feel too tight.
Huffing in great breaths of air, he panted heavily as the bones of his tones finally pierced through his skin, causing most of the flesh surrounding them to burst open like little balloons. Blood splattered across the floor in gruesome, miniature arcs and Billy finally, finally became undone. He shrieked, unable to keep silent any longer as new appendages could be seen inside the flayed bits of bloody skin, slowly growing outward, already a part of him.
Warm tears of pain streaked down his face in thick lines as the skin of his feet continued to be ripped apart, making way for more muscle, new flesh. He wiped at his eyes helplessly and thought he could hear Steve's voice distantly calling out his name, asking if everything was alright.
He blinked, his vision blurred by the tears that would not clear away as he pulled himself over to the stairway.
Shaking wildly all over, Billy stretched out on the floor, realizing belatedly that the waistband of his jeans was growing tighter and tighter. Hissing sharply, he cursed himself for not having the foresight to undress himself as he hastily tried to undo his belt. A pain similar to the initial agony he'd felt in his toes was beginning to manifest itself in his fingers as both of his hands slowly began to turn red, swelling up under the bonds of the rope as he fumbled with the buckle, desperately trying to get it to come free.
"Fuck!" he shouted in frustration, his clothing growing ever tighter as his body continued to bloat. He felt like he was being pinched in half with his belt acting as an unneeded tourniquet. "Fuck! Fuck!"
"Hey! Talk to me Hargrove, what's going on?"
Steve's worried voice trilled down through the cellar doors as he continued vocalizing his frustrations. Billy felt an organ in his abdomen shift out of place before popping, prompting him to groan and curl in on himself before he threw up. His couldn't undo his belt as his vision began to darken.
"Hargrove!" Steve shouted, banging a fist against the steel door. "What the hell's going on? Talk to me!"
"Fuck you!" Billy screamed, unable to articulate anything else as he tried to rub the blackness out of his eyes, but the more he pressed his fingers to them, they more they began to hurt.
A pressure was building up behind them the more he rubbed, and as it increased, his vision grew ever darker. He kept blinking, over and over, feeling his eyes bulge out of their sockets and against his eyelids, trying now to keep his eyeballs in place. He was hyperventilating when he finally went blind, the pressure behind his eyes becoming intolerable eyes before it finally came too much, and his eyes popped free.
He felt them slide out onto over his checks and onto the floor, the slimy, blood-slick nerves leaving tracks of blood on his face as he became totally and completely blind.
"No," he whispered to himself, retching again on the floor as he scrambled across the cement, trying to find the stairs, unable to see. "No, no! This isn't real!"
Beyond the cellar doors, Steve had his ear pressed against the slight crack between the panels, desperately trying to understand what was going on. He wasn't sure what to make of the noises he was hearing, unable to determine if Billy was just trying to mess with him or if he was in actual distress.
"Hargrove," he said impatiently, turning his head to try and peak in through the crack to get a glimpse of what was going on, "you gotta start talking to me, man; what the hell's going on down there?"
"I'm fucking blind," he heard Billy shout, his voice rife with fear. "I can't see anything!"
His voice was shaking as he spoke, and Steve knew then that whatever was happening was legitimate; Billy wasn't one to openly show weakness.
"Okay, stay calm," Steve stammered, but he wasn't sure if that was actually sound advice or not. "It's- it's going to be okay, okay?"
Billy howled, and Steve understood that the pain that carried with his voice must have been terrible to get him to shriek like that. He licked his lips anxiously, not knowing what support he could possibly offer him. He continuously opened and shut his mouth, words of encouragement dying on his tongue before he could manage to speak them.
And then, all at once, the cacophony of agony ceased.
Steve couldn't hear anything over the rapid sound of his breathing for a moment before he finally spoke: "Hargrove? Is… are you okay?"
"Hurts." Billy's voice, quiet, strained, and barely audible over the sounds of things (flesh, fabric) slowly tearing, sounded disconcertingly like he was speaking with a throat full of water. It was gargling and grotesque; completely unlike the smooth, honeyed voice he'd become known for.
"Okay, what, uh, what… what hurts?" Steve whispered in response, fear quieting his previously urgent tone.
"Everything."
"Shit," Steve said to himself, backing away from the cellar door panels as the sounds of something large and heavy being knocked over made him jump. "Just, uh, stay calm," he said, though he wasn't sure if he was saying it to himself or Billy. From down below, he heard Billy groan loudly before going silent again.
Steve's heart was pounding as he hesitated, unsure of what to do. All the details of Billy's haphazardly concocted plan fled his mind as he tried to think back on what they'd agreed to do if something ended up happening, and his first instinct was to open the doors to go down and check on him. He looked at the chains wrapped tightly around the door handles and bit his lip before crouching down and pressing his eye to the crack.
The overhead light wasn't bright enough to reveal much, but at the base of the stairwell there was a small circle of illumination. Steve squinted, ignoring the cold of the steel as he pressed his face against the door, trying to see all that he could.
Blood stains. Torn bits of… something he couldn't quite make out. Dark masses on the stairwell; lots of evidence that pointed towards Billy transforming, but no trace of Billy himself.
"Hargrove," Steve whispered, and then shook his head to clear himself of his cowardice. "Hargrove," he said again, louder and with more emphasis, "dude, you have to talk me through what's happening down there."
He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as he waited for a reply. It was steadily growing darker as the sun slowly sank, making it all the harder to see into the cellar from the tiny slit. Frowning and unable to see anything, Steve turned his head and pressed his ear against the door. From somewhere in the depths of the cellar he could hear something breathing heavily. It was moving, too; he could hear something shuffling, moving around the floor space cautiously.
When he turned his head again to see through the crack, he caught a glimpse of... something large and hulking cross under the light, tall enough to set the lightbulb swinging. He couldn't help but suck in a sharp breath of air, his lungs and throat burning with the sting of the cold weather. The thing- whatever Billy had become- halted just outside the rim of light. Entranced, Steve found he couldn't move as it emitted a low, threatening growl that sounded more like a man impersonating a dog than an actual beast.
From his limited viewpoint, he couldn't see the way the muscles in its legs were tightening, or how it had begun to crouch; he didn't have time to react as it sprang forward, jumping up the stairs in a single leap to ram itself against the doors.
The chains held the doors shut, but the sudden impact smashed the metal against Steve's nose and soon all he could smell was blood as it drained out of his nostrils. He fell backwards, holding his nose as the Billy-creature growled again. Horrified, Steve could only sit in the snow and watch as the doors lurched forward when Billy rammed against them again, trying to escape. The second impact loosened the restraints, and all Steve could do in that moment was watch as they rattled uselessly in place, beginning to slip through the handles as they hadn't been properly locked into place.
Cursing to himself, staggered to his feet and rushed to grab the chains, but as Billy threw his body against the doors again it soon became obvious that even if the doors stayed shut, they were about to pop free of their hinges entirely. Blood dripped down over his lips and onto the metal panels as he tried to think of what he could possibly do to counteract the damage Billy had done. In an act of desperation, he threw himself against the steel and hoped that his added bodyweight would be enough to keep them in place.
If it managed to do anything, he couldn't tell. Almost immediately Billy was throwing himself against the doors again, nearly bucking Steve off.
"Stop!" Steve cried out, grasping for the chains to hold them in place. His fingers scrabbled against the cold steel links even as Billy let out another deep, throaty growl. With the doors as loose as they were, Steve was almost certain the doors wouldn't survive another body-slam. "Give it up, Hargrove!" Steve said again, desperately. "Just- fuck, Billy, stop!"
He braced himself for another impact, but it never came. Eyes closed in anticipation, Steve blinked them open and exhaled shakily, his fingers trembling as he let the chains go. Crystalized air puffed out in front of his face over and over as he rolled off the doors and stood up unsteadily, trying to wipe away the blood that had already frozen over and turned to crust on his upper lip. Somehow, miraculously, his pleading had worked, but before he could take comfort in that fact, other disturbing sounds began to creep back up to him from down below.
Things were being tossed around; the metallic clang of old paint cans being bounced off the floors and walls mixed with the hoarse, angry vocalizations of the creature Billy had become made his blood run colder than the air currently was. The noises Billy was making were at once both animalistic and human, deep and throaty and more akin to the bellows of a moose than a man or wolf.
Steve stood in front of the cellar doors not knowing what to do. Already their plan was falling apart, and he was quickly becoming aware of how vastly unprepared he was to handle the situation. He wanted the security of the bat in his trunk, but didn't trust himself to leave the doors unattended for the length of time it would take him to run back inside and grab his keys to get it, but he felt so weak without it.
Another loud, crashing noise came from within and Steve stilled, listening intently. Faintly, he could hear Billy snuffling about, and after the sun finally completely descended, all was quiet. His nose was throbbing as he stood attentively, but when nothing more could be heard, his stomach sank.
With trembling hands and his mind screaming at him to stop, he knelt by the doors and slowly unwound the chains from the handles. The fact that he couldn't hear anything coming from within didn't sit well with him; he had to make sure Billy was still down there.
He tried to shift the chains as quietly as possible, but with how nervous he was, he had a hard time keeping his hands steady. They rattled noisily against the door, grating on his already frazzled nerves as they slid free. Heart pounding madly, Steve carefully pulled the doors open and took the first step down into the cellar.
It was silent. He couldn't hear anything as he hesitantly took a second step, mentally berating himself over and over for being stupid enough to walk defenseless into the lion's mouth. He had no idea what Billy was capable of now, or if he'd even recognize him enough to (hopefully) have enough sense to not harm him. The lightbulb that dangled freely from the ceiling was swaying, throwing its light around erratically, showing him glimpses of the gore that lined the steps.
Eyes wide, Steve gagged at the sight of the flayed strips of bloodied skin that were splattered near everywhere. He had to avert his eyes as he took another step, making slow progress as he was careful not to step in any of the mess. At the bottom of the stairs he warily peered around the walls, hoping he'd only stuck his head into the lion's mouth figuratively. To his immediate relief, but long-term dismay, there was no trace of Billy to be seen in the space of the cellar.
Exhaling deeply, Steve tried to even out his breathing as he came to stand in the middle of the room, looking around to assess the damage. As the swinging lightbulb steadied, he turned towards where the shelf that was hiding the tunnel had been and found it on the ground, knocked to its side and several feet away from where it had originally been positioned. His shoulders drooped at the realization of Billy's escape.
He went and stood before the opening of the tunnel and felt all hope of remedying the situation vanish. A numbness overtook him as he recognized his responsibilities of keeping Billy captive had changed; he was the only one who knew about Billy's circumstances, and he was the only one who could do anything about it now. Distantly, and much further away then he would've liked, he could hear the muted, labored sounds of Billy's breathing as he escaped confinement through the underground system.
The burden of his responsibilities threatened to overwhelm him in that instant, but instead of letting himself be overtaken by despair, Steve took a deep, steadying breath and rolled his shoulders back. He hesitated for only a minute before he took charge and ran in after him, disregarding his urgent need to turn back and get his bat out of the car. There was no time, he thought; no time to get a weapon, no time to get a flashlight. If Billy was now as the werewolf in the woods was, then he was capable of speeds greater than Steve could muster, and every second mattered. If he lost his trail now, then it would be lost to him entirely. There was no time; he had to go now or he wouldn't go at all.
Alone and unarmed Steve ran, chasing after Billy into the dark, cold tunnel, hoping he would be able to catch him in time, and dreading the repercussions that would come if he couldn't.
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