#sigh so... ill probably have to re write that story.... i remember i made it in such a way that would make sense in both Spanish and english | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nineteenninety-six · 5 years ago

Note

Could I request some angst of the Shelby boys coming back from the war only to be told that their baby sister (Finns twin or maybe younger, whichever your prefer) is dying of the Spanish flu

I changed my mind about how this would end about midway through writing it lol

TAG LIST: @futuristicslimemongerbanana @dayna041101 @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sweetgoodangel @shadow-of-wonder

WC:2126

It’s Too Early To Say Goodbye

When Tommy and his brothers stepped off of the train at Small Heath station, they expected to see their aunt and younger siblings, ecstatic to see them after so long but they were only greeted by Ada and Finn, who looked happy to see them but were also weighed down by something.

They instantly knew something was wrong and they felt out of place as their fellow soldiers reunited with their family, the tears of joy and screams of happiness of the people around them turned into muffled background noise as they approached their brother and sister.

Finn ran ahead and leapt in Arthur’s arms, the eldest Shelby brother easily holding the ten-year-olds weight and Ada ran into John’s arms when they got closer. There wasn’t a dry eye between them as they reunited with each other but eventually, the elephant in the room had to be talked about.

“Ada, where’s Polly and (Y/N)?” Tommy asked

Ada seemed to shudder before she looked around at the crowd around them, “Let’s get out of here first and then I’ll tell you.”

The eldest Shelby brothers looked at each other in confusion but followed as she left the station and to a quiet place around the corner. Finn was back in Arthur’s arms and had buried his head in Arthur’s neck, hands tightly clenching his shirt.

“(Y/N) has the Spanish flu…” Ada quickly began to cry as she talked about her younger sister, “Polly’s with her now, didn’t want to leave her alone.”

Tommy stared at his sister in shock before he suddenly brushed past his siblings and rushed home, not even bothering to wait for them, his mind focused on his little sister.

(Y/N) was closer to a daughter than a sister to Tommy. She and Finn were twins, (Y/N) younger by a few hours and when their mother suddenly died a few years after their birth, Tommy had taken the role of a parent for them. Arthur, with the occasional help from Polly, looked after John and Ada and he and Tommy had to find ways to support their family. Their father was a deadbeat, so it was left to two young men, barely out of their teens to support and provide for the family.

Tommy and (Y/N) had a special bond, and it was no secret they were each other’s favourite sibling but (Y/N) was six when Tommy left and now four years later, Tommy wondered if they were still going to be each other’s favourites since so much had happened and so much time had passed-if (Y/N) survives that is.

As soon as he opened the door to the house on Watery Lane, Tommy threw his bag to the side, not caring where it landed and thundered up the stairs. Polly met him on the landing and while her eyes watered at the sight of him, she knew it wasn’t the time for a reunion. Tommy’s thoughts were only on (Y/N).

“Don’t get too close, Tommy.” His aunt warned him and Tommy gave her a weak nod in understanding before he slipped past her and into the room.

The sight Tommy was greeted with was the first thing to make him feel sick in over three years. Tommy thought France had desensitised him, he had gotten used to the sight and smell of death, he had walked past countless of dead and dying men, there were even times where he walked over them, in the tunnels in France he no longer feared death and had even expected it but the sight in front of him struck a new fear in him.

(Y/N) was placed in the middle of the bed, a light blanket was thrown over her so that she didn’t overheat but Tommy could see how she was soaked in sweat.

Tommy made his way over to her, his heart racing and his mouth dry, the sight of her looking so poorly and helpless made him want to cry and he felt himself tear up as he pulled her hand out from under the blanket and tightly gripped it in his.

(Y/N) stirred from the movement and blinked warily at him, “Aunt Pol…?”

“It’s me, princess. It’s Tommy.”

(Y/N) merely blinked some more before she drifted back off to sleep.

Tommy could hear the loud stomps from his brothers as they climbed the stairs and moments later the door quietly opened and they shuffled in. He didn’t turn around to face them, only focused on (Y/N), though he heard Arthur’s muttered ‘Jesus Christ’ and John’s whispered ‘Fuck’. They moved to the end of the bed and looked at their baby sister with sad eyes but they didn’t dare to get any closer.

“I know you this is not what you wanted to come home to and that you probably wanted to celebrate but this has to be brief, I can’t afford anyone else getting sick” Polly told them as she slipped inside with a bowl of water and some rags, “Especially not you John, you need to care for your kids.”

Arthur and John nodded, giving their baby sister one last pity filled stare before leaving but Tommy remained.

“Tommy-“

“I’m not leaving Polly” Tommy interrupted whatever his aunt was going to say.

Polly sighed, “Then you can help me then. Pat her down and keep her cool with the wet cloth and I’ll make her some soup. Hopefully, she eats.”

Tommy harshly swallowed and nodded, taking the bowl from his aunt and soaking the cloth before ringing it out and dabbing it on (Y/N)’s forehead.

Polly lingered by the door, not yet leaving, “She dips in and out of sleep a lot, you should talk to her. She missed you a lot and I bet your voice will comfort her.”

Tommy nodded but didn’t speak until he heard her going downstairs.

“I missed you, princess” Tommy murmured after a few moments, “I missed you so much but your parts in the letters helped me a lot. I think I can recite all of them from memory now, considering the number of times I re-read them.”

Tommy continued to cool her down with the rag, brushing it over her arms and chest, “Don’t tell anyone but I missed you the most.”

(Y/N) shifted slightly causing Tommy to freeze in his place but once it was obvious she was still asleep he continued.

“At one point, I was more afraid to come back and have you not recognise or remember me than I was to die.” He confessed, “You were so young when I left, still basically a little kid and I didn’t want to leave you, I hope you know that.”

As Tommy got carried away talking openly and patting her down, he missed how (Y/N) slowly blinked her eyes open and how she tiredly stared at him

“Tom?” She croaked, her throat dry.

Tommy whipped his head up when she said his name and even though he knew he shouldn’t, he climbed onto the bed and pulled the ten-year-old into his arms, pulling her tightly against him. (Y/N) didn’t seem to be bothered that she had been suddenly dragged into an awkward position as she weakly wrapped her arms around Tommy.

Tommy started to cry, too much was happening at once, he was still suffering from the war, he was finally back home and his baby sister is deathly sick and he couldn’t stop the tears.

“Hello, princess” Tommy pulled back and gently laid her back down in the bed as she wasn’t in the clear yet.

Tommy helped her sip the water that Polly had left out before he laid down next to her on the bed not wanting to move away even for a bit. He pulled her close to him, frowning at the heat that was radiating from her body before soaking the cloth back up and patting her face with it.

“I’ve missed you.” (Y/N) murmured.

Tommy smiled at her, “I missed you too and when you get better, we’ll go horseriding, okay?”

(Y/N) smiled back at him, excitement lighting up her eyes before she slumped back down in the bed, still clearly exhausted, “‘m hungry.”

“Polly’s making you some soup, she shouldn’t be long.” Tommy combed his fingers through her hair, something that had always calmed and comforted (Y/N).

“You here for good? Not going back to France?”

“I’m not going back to France princess, don’t worry” Tommy pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Polly found Tommy cuddled up to (Y/N) in her bed when she returned with her dinner and she sent Tommy a scathing glare, it had been hell trying to look after (Y/N) and she hated the idea of it spreading through the house.

Tommy shrugged apologetically at his aunt before he helped (Y/N) sit up so that she could eat. The room was silent as (Y/N) ate until she finished and complained to her aunt that she was hot and sticky, so when Polly left to get a bath ready for her, Tommy and (Y/N) were left alone again.

“If I get better…can we go to the fair?” (Y/N) asked

“There’s no if, you are going to get better and when you do, I’ll take you to fair, okay?” Tommy told her.

Polly came in to get (Y/N) for her bath and after Tommy carried her to the bathroom, he let them do what they had to do while he went downstairs to his brothers. Arthur was playing with Finn, who immediately ran over to him as soon as he spotted him and Tommy felt guilty that he had forgotten his youngest brother in favour of their sister.

“Alright, Finn? Did you hold down the fort whilst we were away?” Tommy asked as he lifted his brother up.

Finn nodded, “I’m glad you’re back...too many girls”

Both Arthur and Tommy laughed at his words, Finn had been surrounded by women for the past four years but now his brothers were back.

Tommy spent some more time with Finn until Polly told him that (Y/N) was done with her bath and was asking for him. When he reached her room, he found her tucked up and waiting for him.

“Can you tell me a story?” She asked as soon as he stepped in.

Tommy settled into the seat next to her bed and began to recite a story that he knew off by heart. It was (Y/N)’s favourite story and before the war, she demanded that he read it to her every night and after so long, he no longer needed the book because he remembered every word.

(Y/N) fell asleep quickly, the illness draining so much of her energy and Tommy sat there watching her sleep, his eyes focused on the movements of her chest, making sure she was still breathing. He would forgo sleep every night until she was better if he had to.

He didn’t notice Polly slip in until she spoke up, “She’s a Shelby girl, she’ll beat this.”

“I spent four years in France, digging tunnels day in day out and fighting men so that you were safe over here. Then I come home and I find my baby sister on death’s door.” Tommy’s voice was quiet, “It’s not fucking fair”

“It’s not but she will pull through and I know you will do anything for the little girl. You’ll make sure so that she’s never wanting and you’ll protect her from everything you can.”

“She’s not going to die. I won’t let her.” Tommy declared.

Polly felt her lips pull into a smile in the first time in a while before she left them alone.

True to Tommy’s words, (Y/N) didn’t die. Thanks to her aunt’s determined efforts, (Y/N) pushed through the worst of the flu and over the following weeks (Y/N) returned back to full health, she regained the weight she lost and was quickly becoming bored of being confined to bed which had turned her to start trying to convince her brothers to ignore Polly’s instructions but none of them was willing to face a telling off by their aunt. But soon enough, (Y/N) was out of the bed and back to causing mischief with her twin.

Tommy and Polly watched as (Y/N) ran around with Finn, both of them giggling as they chased each other.

“I told you she’ll be fine” Polly told him

“I know.” Tommy gave her a smile before he rounded up his youngest siblings so they could go to the fair as he promised.

#peaky blinders imagines #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #x reader #tommy shelby imagines #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #sister!reader #imagines #john shelby imagines #arthur shelby imagines

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jurijurijurious · 3 years ago

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Writerly ephemera meme

I was tagged by @thisbluespirit in this rather intriguing meme!

Find five bits of yourself that you gave to your fiction (memories and places and phrases and things into our stories), post and tag five or more writers to share as well.

Now I know I do write bits of myself and my experiences into my stories, one way or another, I think everyone does, but it doesn’t half put you on the spot when you have to try to remember where you’ve done it!

1) I know that recently I wrote Walsingham passing out at the end of a scene in “Mea Culpa”. The entire description is based on personal experience. I went through a scary few years as a young teen where I would pass out for little to no reason, usually at school where there were lots of people watching to cause me huge embarrassment, which then almost gave me a form of PTSD. I was constantly anxious about fainting, it was not good, and we never found out why it happened. But that’s another story... I still occasionally pass out but it’s usually for a reason, after having a vaccine or blood taken or something, but the whole process of fainting, though horrible, is like an old nemesis to me, uncomfortably familiar. I generally feel intense sickness in my stomach, my vision is puckered increasingly with white dots, my entire body comes out in a sweat, and I hear a high pitched whistle-type noise as I lose consciousness. And so since that is my experience, it became Wals’s too:

His palms sweated, his pulse raced... He shuddered and emitted another strangled breath, fingers white where he clutched the window sill, body trembling. He needed rest. Ursula's voice was becoming distant, the room was swaying like the deck of a ship caught in a storm. He felt a sudden nausea in his stomach, could hear a high pitched sound in his ears, a siren's wail beckoning him into the abyss.

“I am sorry. So very sorry,” he whispered, though he knew not exactly who he was addressing. His own voice now sounded as if it was coming from underwater, far away; he was drowning and could resist no more, slipped where he stood and descended into the open arms of oblivion.

2) This is another Walsibeth example I’m afraid because I haven’t written anything else for about a decade! So... Though the pandemic and my lack of funds has put a temporary hold to my hobby of horse riding, I am a half-capable rider and love tearing across country if opportunity allows on horseback. I can thus write people riding horses (English style, anyway) with a degree of accuracy. So in my smutty one-shot fic “In perpetuum et unum diem” (the one which is mostly a pastiche of the raunchy finale of “The Tudors” season 1, and also an excuse for me to write shameless sex), I began the ficlet with a bit of a horse-race between Bess and Wals to get the blood up (a scene that in itself mirrors Elizabeth’s racing with Raleigh in TGA, I later realised). Though I personally haven’t raced a person on horseback per se, I have done beach rides and also ridden on a horseback safari in Africa where you gallop as a group, and “giving your horse its head” is the order of the day! So a lot of this passage is me:

She turned her head back over her shoulder and caught Francis’ eyes. His lip quirked slightly at the corner but otherwise there was no change to his countenance. But that was enough. Her smile deepend as if to invite him to race her and she turned her head back around, gave her dappled grey mare its head and pressed her calves to its flanks. And the beast responded, driving its legs harder, faster, into a gallop and flew like a falcon through the trees.

...

As the wind flew in Elizabeth’s face, making her eyes water, a great whoop of exhilaration escaped her. There was nothing but her and the horse, and the knowledge that her blackguard of a lover galloped behind her. This was what it should feel like to live, even in tragically brief snippets; to feel the blood in your veins, the air in your chest, and the sun on your face, wild and free.

They then jump a tree trunk which I’d love to say I’d do, and I might, but most of my falls have been from jumping so I’d probably wimp out and go the long way around... ;)

3) Annnd another one from my Walsibeth fic “Mea Culpa”, just because it’s fresh in my mind. When I was driving to work last winter, there was one Sunday morning which had a jaw-droppingly beautiful sunrise. I tried to take a photo of it but could not do it justice. I did find a photo of Lincoln Cathedral on instagram from the same morning though which captured the sky perfectly. It literally looked like the sky was on fire, or something, and I immediately worked this memory into my story! I felt that a sky like that would make the perfect backdrop for a single, forlorn, broken bastard riding his horse in a clear, freezing morning:

There was a strange light in the sky as the sun began to make its ascent. It turned a deep crimson then lifted to shades of rich amber and gold; this combined with the few grey clouds passing overhead gave it the illusion of a huge fire, as if a great furnace now filled the heavens. Some might have called it beautiful, others would see a grim omen.

4) I had a look in my dreaded old fic archive, so full of cringe, and I found this from the end of my Doctor Who fic “Choices”, which I reckon I wrote between 2005-2006, possibly finishing it later than that. This scene right at the end (told from the perspective of Rose and the ninth Doctor’s daughter, Hope) is literally my old senior school - the class length, the finish time, the uniform was what I wore, and my history teacher was Mrs. Gaskin, and my mum would be waiting in her car to pick me and my sisters up:

By a quarter-to-three in the afternoon, she was in another History lesson with Mrs. Gaskin, and was spending another forty-five minutes hearing about the Black Death, the plague doctors, and the red crosses that were painted on people’s doors. It was fascinating, but Hope’s concentration wasn’t there. She kept looking out of the window at the school yard, noticing the little details that other days she would take for granted - like the way the trees swayed in the wind, the way a crisp-packet rolled across the concrete, and the pure azure-blue colour of the cloudless sky. Something was afoot but she had no idea what it was, or why she was feeling this way.

The bell rang finally at the end of the lesson, as the clock read three-thirty, and the class disappeared swiftly out of the door. It was home time! The voices of myriads of children echoed and shrilled down the corridors, and desperate feet, eager to get home, pounded down the stairs, making for the exits. White shirts were un-tucked from trouser and skirt hems, blue-and-red ties were loosened from about shirt collars, and black blazers were thrown off and carried over shoulders as the mass of pupils took flight.

Hope, however, took things slowly, almost as if she might never see them again, picking up on every smile, every individual laugh, and every joke pulled on every unsuspecting victim. She waved goodbye to friends, hitched her backpack over her shoulder, and made her way out of the school gates toward the spot where her mum or Uncle Jack would usually be waiting to pick her up. As she turned the corner onto Petunia Grove, though, she stopped and sighed. The car - either her mum’s or Jack’s - was not there.

Hope pursed her lips and shrugged, taking another good look around just to make sure that she hadn’t missed it, but there wasn’t a familiar car in sight. She thus let her bag slip off her shoulder, and she perched her backside on the street sign, swinging one of her feet back and forth as she waited for the arrival of her escort.

In the meantime, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander again, as it had been doing often throughout the day, and looked around the street. There was a blue tit on the hedge over the road, stood near a couple of sparrows and a robin. The front door of house number five was a brilliant shade of red, something which she had never really noticed before, and there was some graffiti on the road sign on the opposite side of the street. It read ‘Bad’ something or other, but she couldn’t read the other word since it was blocked off by the blue box.

Hope blinked and slowly rose to her feet. It couldn’t be…

5) And for number five, this is a short extract from the an unpublished Star Wars fic I wrote around 2010, where I tried for what must have been the third time to re-write the Star Wars nonsense I wrote as a teenager, all starring my very Mary Sue OC, Nadia, who became Vader’s apprentice and was mentored by Veers. I have here again worked my experiences of passing out into the story - a psychologist would have a field day with me. Nadia’s thoughts about showing weakness were also real fears of mine - I never liked to be weak, to be ill, to be a burden, and my character was the mouthpiece for my own self-disgust. It’s written in the first person with Nadia narrating in this scene where she accompanies General (Maximilian) Veers to the Kaminoan’s cloning facility to review further batches of troops and is taken ill by the experience of seeing the thousands of farmed foetuses:

Max nodded whilst I remained breathless and shaky in his shadow. I could not get those tiny, wriggling foetuses out of many head - they floated upon my consciousness, their inhuman eyes glaring into my face and their tiny hands reaching out toward me. I tried to rid myself of these infantile phantoms, but I could not, and I suddenly felt quite ill.

“We shall need many more in our next delivery,” Max told the creature, who began to babble on about the problems of this request, but was halted mid-sentence when Maximilian wheeled about and grabbed me, saying my name over and over. He disappeared amidst the snowstorm of white dots that littered my vision, however, and I collapsed upon the floor.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a bright, white room. The walls dazzled me for a moment and it took my eyes and my mind time to adjust and to recognise reality. I looked slowly at the plain walls, finding myself alone upon a bed with my hands by my sides and a drip feeding liquid into my arm. This seemed quite surreal - I knew I was not ill enough to warrant this - but I resolved to stay put until someone came to me. I felt extremely tired and I thought that I may as well take advantage of the rest.

I fell back to sleep again and, when I next woke, I saw Max sat in a chair beside me. I glanced about the room - we were alone. I looked at him uncertainly, my visage undoubtedly betraying the signs of my mortification, for he first said: “Do not worry, Nadia, I am not angry with you. It cannot always be helped.”

...

I wanted to defy him, to be strong, but no, I just showed him weakness and insecurity. What indignity was this?

Thanks for the tag, that was fun! I can’t think of 5 writers to tag but off the top of my head: @feuillesmortes, @robins-treasure and @captainofthegreenpeas? Have a go if you fancy.

#memes #writerly ephemera meme

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moonlightjeno · 5 years ago

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swashbuckle and islands

a/n : this boy will be the death of me i love him so much. excuse my horrible grammar. my fav gif, and has nothing to do with the story lol but enjoyyy

genre : angst + fluff

pairing : readerxjeno & readerxmark

word count : 2.6k

okay,

okie, be ready for this mess

and excuse any non spaced words my space bar isn’t working properly

cool so your from an island

which imma call Skye bc i can

now your mum is originally from Skye, and had like second cousins of a cousin or whatever to throne but she married you father who was from the mainland

which is a big no no but at the time she didn’t care bc she was so in love

skip forward a couple of years and the father is a complete ass

doesn’t work or really do much except order your mum around

anyone who has a wonderful father or really good parents im sorry don’t attack me this is for the story

so, mum has had you and your older brother, whom your brother continues to admire your father bc he really just wants love and is hella lost in this mess of a world

Moving on

you used to have a really good relationship with your father until he changed.

cheated on your mother, and would blame it on you mum

in response you really just tried to help you mum get through this mess

big big mess

your brother, at the beginning helped and tried to calm your father

boy kinda gave up, hela understandable

and left to the mainland to study medicine

wooot go him

but you were devastated because you were now alone

now bc your brother has left your father has really worsened and blocks your freedom more and more

The point where you were literally only allowed to like go to school, work in the fields and be a servant

sksksk

now remember how your mum was like the second cousin or smth to the royal crown?

Twas was importanttt

that managed to get you a study abroad year in london,

queue your best friend mark entering

this boy showed you what freedom was and felt like for the first time since your father went off rails

iss been like a good 13 years and you're like 16 ??

I digress

mark literally made you feel more yourself because of his natural outgoing and easy behavior

It really was pretty amazing

And then the hiding and going out late at night was over

It was back to no friends, working at the field

sad life tbh

I must note, that because mark lived in canada bc why tf not

y’all couldn’t really communicate

this is set when pirates where a thing, think of pirates of the caribbean

I love those movies

okie, progress two years

of you thanks to you mum’s second cousin related human lol

you became friends with the cousins friends daughter

y’all really had known each other since they were smol

but hadn’t really been friends, bc the girl was pretty quite and a beaut

even her own father treated her better than she treated her own daughter

smh, ik this is a cliche live with it

but overall she was a really good person and kinda managed to sneak you around the island when you weren't on “duty” for your father

though its not that you didn’t like working in the fields bc you loved helping out with the animals and occasionally give food to those who were less fortunate than you and really couldn’t afford it

being a trooper, that you are you often told your friend idk wanna give her a name so y’all could come up with one if it were up to me it would be lilith about what you would see around the island and how the country was pretty not doing a okay

she would listen and talk about her own problems and how she wished she could travel and paint everything

Bonding over traveling yep yeo

one day, you were supposed to work in the fields as you tend to have to do to the cows, and sheep and horses, while picking up the apples? from the trees ??

Idk i don’t farm

either wayyyy

you had finished your tasks early, and had struggled, and i mean stRuGgLed to get away from your father

he was in one of his moods today, shouting at everyone and refusing to admit he needed help

it was a constant reminder of every bad thing every failure that could happen in your life every thing you didn’t want for yourself or your mum who had slowly been getting sick and y’all had some money that could have helped her but your father thought that she deserved the illness

and i quote he said “everything happens for a reason child, if your mother had treated me and had been a good person this wouldn’t have happened to her, but alas some people deserve what they get”

skskskks

he continued to say how “i on the other hand, have been a good man all my life, have always helped others so i don’t get sick”

this man i swear to god this has actually happened help

being very much done with your father who you really wished would just disappear and leave you and your mom who no longer lived with you but now lived with lilith to be

you had thought of running away for a very long time, though never knew how to get off the island it seemed impossible

sure you knew how to fight, somewhat by watching the guards and the little training mark you had taught your two years ago.

missing mark hours but it wouldn’t compare to the guards of the royals who would never aid you

and even if they had, you had never learned how to sail which was ironic as the island you lived in wasn’t very large. Your only method of transportation has been your legs and your families faithful horse lethian ?? who really was your favorite out of all the animals

running away from the trapped life had always felt like a dream, one that you had lived for for the small year in london with mark

you thought about running away again, the idea of sneaking into a trading boat slowly forming in your mind

you could take her your mum and lilith and travel the world go to london again and paris and canada and re-unite with the friend you missed the most

a smile had formed on your previous grim face, the dream something you held onto until your eyes opened and smoke covered the sky

a ringing began in your ears and you tried to stop it, your hands covering your ears in an attempt to stop the noise but the ringing only got stronger

the sky was black, shots were heard were the village people yelled in panic

you looked out towards the sea and could see the outline of a ship

a very large ship

oh shit

a pirate ship

the flag blew proudly in the boat and from where you stood the bone white skull that contrasted against the black around it was made visible everytime the wind blew

you gasped, everything anyone had told you about pirates were that they weren’t to be trusted

they were ruthless and would do nothing to stop from getting what they wanted

the stories you'd heard all came to the same conclusion you see the flag you run in the other direction

you pace quickened and in small time you were running towards the blazing village now up in smokes fire and fog covering the bakery, and fields

the school that had taught you the basics of reading and writing until girls weren’t allowed to attend was a blaze royal guards their black and purple uniforms waved their hands around and pointed their too heavy too unbalanced swords not being of much use

mom

she should be safe

safe with lilith you thought, looking back towards were the small castle stood its bold flag still flying proudly in the grey and black sky

safe , shes safe you keep telling yourself a constant buzz that you repeated over and over to yourself in order to continue moving towards the castle walls

you only lasted a solid five minutes before the guards were holding the civilians back

you sighed angry these idiots being more preoccupied with holding back the citizens who were trying to get to safety behind the castle walls than actually dealing with the threat at hand

who hired them really??

being the stubborn human you are you decided to head towards the back entrance as yuo saw a flash of blonde hair headin towards the back gate of the castle

oh no was your immediate thought their gonna get to lilith and mum

all the guards had been directed out of castle except a few that had stayed inside to keep the royal fam safe the infirmary had been left unguarded

you looked around trying to look for a familiar face, a familiar guard who youd seen at a practice lilith had dragged you too she had said it was too “admire suitors” you had shaken your head and laughed

you had no interest in tying yourself to a man that would treat you like something to throw around but you let her revel in her fantasies

no familiar face was found so you turned and ran towards the blonde head you had seen walk towards the back entrance grabbing a sword from one of the dead guards

your cursed the clothes women were given making it impossible to run in impossible to fight in

the blonde boy turned around at your approach, he was young you noticed

probably your age, his grin was deviant and his eyes were mocking as she approached

“please” you tried “don’t hurt hurt anyone else”

the boy looked at you with a puzzled look at laughed, slashing away at the thorns and vines that encircled the back door to the castle as he found the lock and tried to break it open

you got closer, looking at the broken glass bottles that littered the floor and torches that lit up the fogged street

the boy was too busy with the look to realize the girl that had come behind him and hit him in the back of the head with the swords dull pommel the boy let put a yelp before collapsing at your feet

your small victory lasted a small time and before you noticed the boy you had tied with the thorns and vines from the door, which continued to be locked

your mum and lilith as far as you knew safe

began to stir and as his eyes opened another boy appeared at the end of the alley

his hair seemed to be part of the night sky, falling over his dark eyes.

“mark!” the black haired boy cried, his hand at his scimitar pointed directed towards you his other hand had managed to slip a dagger out of god knows where and sliced mark’s binds

mark the name sent a shock through you and you took a closer look at the young boy whose eyes were now wide open no anger shown

but instead amusement and the joyous spark you had once known

he looked so different

the black haired boy still had a sword at your throat and you swallowed briefly

“mark?” you gasped feeling the tip of the sword against your neck a small movement and it would nick your skin, blood would swell

‘Mark’ looked at you again and laughed,

the black haired boy looked confused “let her go jeno”

jeno was like ‘excuse me ? she knocked you unconscious no i'm not doing that’ he didn't say it but mark understood and laughed again this time it was more mischievous a feral grin adorned his features

“let her go, she’s coming with us” jeno and you were both like huh? has this boy gone mad?

probably letss be realll

“umm no im not” you snapped at the boy you once knew, you glared at jeno who had regrettably removed his sword away from your neck but had placed the dagger threateningly close to your back ashe forced you to move along

you didn’t get an answer from mark who still seemed very entertained by the whole situation

he had changed so much since you’d last seen him *sigh*

you three walked back towards the village and you hadn’t realized how the screams of pain and fear were no longer heard

more than a few guards littered the floors and you tried not to gasp as jeno forcefully continued to move you towards the sea its waters black

the walk to the pirate boat seemed to last ages, the sun had begun to set in the sky casting dark purple and red shadows above the black water that didn’t reflect any light. It broke your heart to see the usually clear water be black, the animals that lived in the waters probably struggling to survive.

when you finally arrived, the panic began to settle in again. you didn’t know if your mum and lilith were safe, you didn’t know what would happen and the boy you knew two years ago had changed so much that you could no longer read what he was thinking

the ship loomed in front of you, you hear the small buzz of chatter from the ship and laughter

why was there laughter in such a horrible place ??

“Come on” mark said, already walking getting onto the ship, not looking back at the mess they had left behind

You no longer felt the sharp prick of a dagger or sword at your back, but instead it had been replaced by a strong hand guiding you towards the ship

the contact startled you, and you straightened and continued to walk forward the ship only a few feet away, you still held onto the rock that you had hit mark with, your sword taken away by jeno

you forced your feet to stop moving, because one more step and you’d be on the pirate’s boat, and ducked, and made a weak attempt at attacking the black haired boy behind you hitting him with the small rock you had on the leg

you begin to move away from the boat. The victory lasted a solid second before jeno had his arms around you, pinning your hands behind your back. No longer smiling, or understanding in his dark eyes. you glared at him and then at mark who had finally turned around, a sort of sadness passed over his features before he spoke

“you can’t run away y/n” he said calmly. “remember in london? when you dream about running away, leaving this island and exploring the world? away from your father?”

his words shocked you, but you didn’t want to leave your mum she had no one else

“i can’t just leave mark !! my mum, she’s still there and i can’t just leave her with father” a look of recognition and understanding flitted through jeno’s face and reflected in mark

“i know, i know but if you stay here and go back” the boy shook his head, the dark of the night making his blonde hair a dull light in the fog,

you knew, that in many ways he was right. if you did go back the villagers had seen you with the pirates, being taken by them as the village had burned down and you weren't scared. the worst scenario would be that if you did go back they would imprison you, ask you for information

hurt mum, hurt lilith even is she was part of the royals

you felt the tears well up in your eyes, and refused to let them fall

“we aren’t all that bad” peeped jeno’s voice who had softened again, until you looked at him and his gaze hardened

you forced yourself a small smile, and placed your foot on the board of the boat

“Let’s go swashbucklers” you said,

after all, the stories you’d heard had come from your father, and all his stories were a lie.

a/n : i hope y’all enjoyed that. ik there wasn't much jeno lol but i’m planning on king this a series if you want? send me an ask, if you do! either way,

peace out luvs,

stay safe

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feverwritingandtextposts · 5 years ago

Link

Summary:

All the cool monsters make it to the front page of City S Newspaper. And Garou's going to join them, even if he has to kidnap a reporter to do it.

Look man I saw this funny AU post and i HAD to write this i was possessed.

As usual you can follow the link to read it or read it under the cut below.

"And so that's why i skipped the math class in my 7th grade- hey. Hey. Are you listening?"

Badd turned his head up to the voice, groggy and tired. He gave a non-committal grunt in response. The man clucked his tongue in annoyance.

"Hm. You're not writing anything down so-"

Badd raised an eyebrow at that, glaring down the man in front of him. Tall, imposing, with the most hideous hairstyle Badd's ever seen, the man loomed overhead, paused in his pacing to stare down at him.

"How the fuck am i supposed to write anything when my FUCKING HANDS ARE TIED?" Badd bellowed, fully sick and tired of this nonsense.

Personally, Badd had no clue why this bastard chose to kidnap him out of all the reporters out there. He's just self aware enough to know that he's not exactly the easiest person to get along with in general. If this dude really wanted the world to 'understand his monster aesthetic and goals through the newspaper' he'd probably get better cooperation from some mousy bumbling reporter that he can, actually, successfully intimidate.

Maybe Badd looked like an easy target because he'd been passed out after drinking with a interviewee. In his defense, the office promised to pay, and Badd was never one to turn down some day drinking.

Damn, what even happened to that guy... Did this fucker kill him when Badd got kidnapped?

The man, Garou or Gatou or Geko something like that, narrowed his eyes at him. It looked like he'd wanted to seem contemptuous and intimidating, but Badd thought it made him just look pouty, like an ill tempered child.

That dude's probably fine.

"You could've just said so then," the man snapped, reaching over.

Badd jerked back from him, the movement teethering him dangerously on the flimsy chair he was tied against.

"Ey ey, hands off bastard. This coat's Gucci and i dunno where your damn hands have been," Badd hissed.

Clearly offended, the man drew back, lips pulling back to show a sharp array of teeth. "I wash my hands you little shit."

"That's what all the crooks say."

The man looked stunned for a moment, face still stuck in that half angry half incredulous grimace, as if shocked that Badd was just being so deliberately uncooperative, when he'd gone to all this trouble of holding him hostage. Held aloft in front of him, the man's hands balled up into fists.

Briefly, Badd wondered if he was finally going to get punched.

Badd was kinda looking forward to it. Its been a while since he got punched anyway.

But instead, the man seemed to reign himself in, folding his arms and drawing up to his fullest height, lips drawn in a sneer.

"Your coat's ugly anyway. Gucci? You wasted your money on that crap."

Wow really? He's really gonna get his fashion sense roasted by a man in ratty joggers and old people slippers.

"Fuck you," Badd snarled venomously.

Gatou (no Gakou.. Garou?) raised an eyebrow, seemingly unconcerned.

"Are you mad? Over that?"

Badd struggled against his bindings, the chair screeching against the concrete as he moved.

"Seriously?"asked the man. "You weren't even that mad when you woke up tied to the chair."

Badd paused in his attempts to rip off the thick ropes to shoot the man a scathing look.

"Like hell I'm gonna listen to you insult MY coat when you're in those disgusting pants."

Now looking absolutely confused, the taller man looked down at his faded grey joggers.

"What's wrong with my pants? They're great for movement and kicking." As if to demonstrate that point, or intimidate Badd, he started kicking the air, each kick higher than before, the shock-wave blowing wind and dust into Badd's face.

Man, Badd hated guys like him. Just because they're hot they think they can care fuck all about fashion and still look good.

In this guy's case he'd be right but Badd's never gonna admit that.

Badd was about to tell him exactly where he could stick his ugly pants before the man slammed his foot down, loud and annoying.

"Wait, forget that, I still need you to continue writing that article. Where did I stop?"

Damnit, Badd was hoping he'd have forgotten that by now.

The man propped his chin against his fist, deep in thought.

Maybe if Badd was lucky he'd realise he'd told Badd every fucking insignificant detail about his (admittedly kinda sad) life story and let him go.

The man slammed his fist into his open palm in realisation. "I can't remember, so lets just take it from the start again!"

This man was going to give him a fucking aneurysm.

"What the HELL man! C'mon dude lay off it," Badd whined, writhing on the chair in annoyance.

"Maybe I'll be done faster if your sorry ass doesn't keep INTERRUPTING me," Garou snarled back, resuming his pacing as he prepared to re-recount his shitty life story.

The afternoon light that streamed through the high broken windows was starting to dim, casting long shadows across the abandoned warehouse they were in. The day was beginning to end. Zenko's going to be out of cram school soon, and she'd be waiting for him to pick her up.

It was starting to get colder too, Badd could see the puffs of air coming from his breath. Did Zenko bring her scarf?

"Hey man aren't you done yet? I gotta go soon, I need to pick my lil sis up," Badd called out to the slouching man, who had skulked a way off ahead, ranting about why elementary school kids have the propensity for cruelty.

Pausing in his tirade, he stalked back over.

"Fuck are you talking about? You're literally tied to a chair."

"Yeah I KNOW. That's why I'm asking if you're done, I need to go pick my sis up."

Shaggy white hair bouncing, Garou shook his head firmly. "What, no you can't just leave. I KIDNAPPED you."

"Yeah, I noticed. And how long are you gonna keep me here then? The fucking sun's already going down."

"Its only been three and a half hours," protested Garou, his thin face settling into its permanent scowl. "How are you going to write a good article about me if you don't know my entire backstory?"

Badd groaned loudly, head tilting back in exasperation. In front of him, the man didn't move, sharp golden eyes boring into Badd.

"If you be a good boy and listen, this will go by a lot faster, and you can be out to write that article and pick up your sister or whatever. Or, I could keep you here with me for much MUCH longer."

"Ugh..." Badd rolled his eyes at the obvious warning to behave. Really, did he LOOK like the type to just buckle down and keep quiet? After realising that Garou was still standing there, eyes alert and anticipating a response, he gave a resigned sigh.

"ALRIGHT, fucking hell, FINE," snapped Badd, a little too loudly, but the bastard smiled at that, lips pulling into a smarmy smirk that would have been ridiculously hot if Badd wasn't so ready punch him.

He really hoped Zenko brought her scarf. This was gonna take a while.

Luckily for the both of them, Badd was an expert in the sacred art of pretending to pay attention. Eyes glassy, he watched the man pace up and down, ever so often making a grunt or hum of agreement to whatever was being said.

Those pants Garou was wearing really DO look great for movement. They clung perfectly to that tight ass. Speaking of, now that Badd really got a look at him, this guy was toned to hell. He mentioned being 'the world's best martial artist' or something, but damn. That turtleneck he was wearing looked like it was on its last breath of life clinging to those muscles. Dude's lucky he's nice to look at because Badd'll be bored to death otherwise.

Night had fully fallen by the time the white haired man decided to pause for breath.

Badd hasn't been in the reporting biz long enough to be considered an expert, but he doubts that he really needed THAT much info from the guy to write an article on him. Usually, articles about villains are pretty short anyway.

Stuff like "Wanted: this bastard! Contact the Association if you have information" or "See this man? Better mind your own business and find somewhere to hide!". Short, sweet, to the point. Just what criminal warning articles are supposed to be. Where the hell was his supposed to insert the entire part about this loser getting beat up in elementary school? Badd's not a damn literary expert. He only got the job because of how hardy he was, and how dangerous journalist jobs can end up.

Maybe he can ask one of the interns to help him write it...

"Do you have all of that?" asked Garou (Badd's sure now, the fucker talked about himself as 'Garou the Human Monster' at least 11 times).

Badd nodded quickly, hoping to god that he was done talking about himself. Garou, perhaps having believed Badd's performance, perhaps simply needing a space to talk about... all that... seemed absurdly happy.

"Okay! You better write a good article!" Garou ordered, exuberant smile lighting up his usually swarthy face, making it look kinder and sweeter. Like how he might have been if he hadn't been weighed down by all that spite.

Huh, Badd thought, he was actually kinda cute.

"Right, don't move."

Never mind, scratch that.

Badd last remembers a throbbing pain on the back of his neck, as if someone had smacked him, and wakes up alone at a bus stop.

"Human Monster Gatou on the loose," read out Taero, swinging his legs on the park bench. Beside him, the white haired man peeled an eye open from where he sat slouched back on the bench, head propped up on the back.

"Whazzat? Kid, you're old enough to read properly right? Pronounce people's names right."

"Huh, but Uncle, that's what it says." Reaching over, Taero pushes the newspaper right into Garou's face for him to read it himself.

Golden eyes scanning the headline, Taero barely had time to sit back down before Garou shot up from the bench, snatching the newspaper out of his hand in the process. Wordlessly Garou stood there, newspaper crumpled in his grip, eyes boring into the page.

Taero knew that this Uncle was pretty prone to sudden and confusing mood shifts, but even for him this was kinda weird.

"It's pretty scary isn't Uncle? We should be careful," Taero says tentatively, peering at him from the safety of the bench.

"That's right. Real scary," muttered Garou, face absolutely murderous.

He can't believe that fucking reporter spelled his name wrong.

He's gonna kill him.

#opm #batarou #metal bat #garou #i love garou i really do but i also remember that he can be the world's best martial artist AND a stupid bitch #and i just think thats neat #sorry its not another kny fic guys................

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lihikainanea · 6 years ago

Text

I...I may re-write this at some point. Because I hate it. Let’s be clear, I just want these two to bang each other’s brains out again like right the fuck now but I feel like I had to ~set it up~ properly and just...look, this what you get when a horndog of an author with 2987548695659 kink buttons is in A Mood(TM) to get all of them SLAMMED AT ONCE but instead has to write ~fluff~ because it’s what makes sense for the story right now. If you need me, I’ll be in my little corner flipping this story off while my kink buttons very much do not get slammed. Fuck you BFF!Bill. I'm so mad at you right now.

Part 1 + 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Credit my rage to @ill-skillsgard and that nani who ruined my life with the original ask in Parts 1+2 there.

I dunno how many parts left I got to this, the part below really discouraged me. I feel like I got carried away in their story line and I’m all self-conscious about it now because I really just....I want to write all the sexy times. That’s it. I liked the shorter drabbles of these two that I did more towards the beginning.

BLERGH, shut up Leilani.

***

In hindsight, the ice cream was a terrible mistake.

To your credit, it had taken awhile for things to get awkward. A good few weeks. And to Bill’s credit, he really made it near impossible to be awkward around him.The awkwardness had littered your friendship to varying degrees, but no matter how mortifying the events were, Bill just never seemed plussed about any of it. There had been the time he had gotten food poisoning on a camping trip in the woods, pitifully crawling his way on all fours to your tent in the middle of the night. You had woken up to what you thought was a wounded animal, unzipping your tent and seeing Bill’s curled up form on the ground in front of you. It had taken over an hour to help him crawl just a hundred feet to the communal washrooms, where you stayed with him on the floor for the entire night. It was nothing short of contortion, the way he folded his large body in on himself in the tiny stall, groaning in pain and discomfort. Your heart bled for him that night, he was so sick he had gone grey and the only thing you could do to help was stroke his soaked back and keep wetting paper towels to hold on his neck while he wretched. He had eventually passed out, thunking his head hard right onto your chest, and in your sleep-deprived hysteria, you thought he was dead. Mutual friends still tell the tale over beers, now a great source of laughter, of how you had emerged from the washrooms in the wee hours of the morning screaming for help with Bill--all 6′4 of him--slung over your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bill’s feet still dragged on the ground and his upper body hung limp over your shoulder, but you didn’t care. You just knew he needed help. When he eventually came to, hooked up to an IV and still looking grey, he didn't seem at all shocked when he was told how he made it to the medical centre.

Then there was the time during a traditional movie night at his place, when you felt the tell-tale cramp--that deep cramp low in your belly that had you folding in on yourself briefly. Your cycle wasn’t due for another 3 more days, but your body had other plans. You hadn’t even brought a purse to Bill’s, and looking frantically at your light coloured jeans, you knew you were in trouble. Bill stared at your form, gradually closing in on itself as another cramp hit.

“You okay?” he asked, putting a hand on your back.

“Yeah I uh...I have to go. Sorry, forgot I needed to do something tonight..” you trailed off, tossing the blanket and slowly shifting to stand in a way that would attempt to minimize the flow that you could now feel starting between your legs. Bill eyed you cautiously, then rolled his eyes. Grabbing another slice of pizza from the box in front of him, he stood and grabbed your elbow.

“C’mon,” he said, leading you to the bathroom.

“What are you--” your sentence was cut off when he reached an arm up, opening the cupboard. Inside, you stared in confusion when you spotted a small box of tampons, a few pads, even a little bottle of Midol. He turned to you, shoving another bite of pizza in his mouth.

“If there’s something in here you need, just take it,” he said, his mouth full as he chewed loudly.

“Bill why the fuck do you have these in your bathroom?”

He shrugged, blasé.

“Because I’m a grown ass man and I have grown ass women in my life,” he said, as if it was the most obvious explanation in the world.

“Take whatever you need and get your ass back on the couch, the best part is coming up,” he turned to leave before calling over his shoulder “or if you need something else or whatever, just write it down and I’ll pick it up next time I’m out.”

When you emerged from the bathroom a few moments later, a pair of sweatpants hit you smack in the face.

“In case you’re bloated or whatever,” was the explanation.

You changed. The pants were comically large, with a ton of material still pooling around your feet even after you had rolled the waistband a dozen times.

Joining him back on the couch, he covered the two of you with a blanket again before reaching behind him for something. He tucked a hot water bottle against your stomach and you moaned slightly at how good it felt, then he put his arm back around you and pulled you into his side, restarting the movie. Not another word was spoken.

So compared to a lot of what had happened in the past, having sex with him should have paled in comparison on the scale of awkward. If the sex had been terrible, perhaps a certain degree of awkwardness would be expected. But incredible sex? Incredible sex should be celebrated. And you were on board with that, for awhile.

Until the ice cream.

You had almost forgotten, in fact as the days went on you became more and more able to downplay what had happened, and the level of pleasure you experienced which seemed to have put your body in shock for more than a few days after. Maybe it wasn’t a matter of Bill being so good in bed, feeling so safe with him, and more a matter of just....how pent up you had been. You were almost convinced, almost certain that this was fact. Bill was probably just average, at best. But you did trust him a whole ton more than any of the Tinder dates you had met so combined with your hair trigger for needing a release at that time, it had all just culminated into three delightful explosions.

Until the ice cream.

It had been a longstanding tradition of yours, no matter the season, of going for ice cream the day before Bill left on another shoot. He had a sweet tooth that was completely unrivalled but he had stayed away from sweets for the few months leading up to his new gig, having to take some weight off his already slim frame for his new role. But as you sat beside him, a banana split for you and an extra large vanilla soft serve for him, you realized what a terrible mistake this was.

“Oh my god,” he groaned in pleasure and you stilled, memories of that groan flooding your mind. You turned to him just in time to see his long tongue snake out, licking slowly from the the cone to the tip of his ice cream.

“Jesus Christ,” he moaned again, “it’s been so long.” His mouth closed around the peak of it, making a small slurping noise as he sucked part of it into his mouth. You felt the heat immediately rising to your cheeks. He moaned again, swirling his tongue around the cone.

“How’s yours?” he asked.

“It’s uh, it’s good,” you said.

“Might be better if you took a bite, tiger,” he teased. Looking down, your spoon was clenched tightly in your fist and your sundae was untouched. Shaking your head slightly, you lifted the cherry off and popped it in your mouth. You nearly choked when Bill let go another groan that was nothing short of sexual.

“I’m in fucking heaven,” another long lick of his cone from bottom to top, he sighed happily and closed his mouth over the top again to suck another bite in. Your thighs clenched as you couldn’t get rid of the images that flooded your brain. Bill’s green eyes, peering up at you from between your legs, asking permission. Bill’s eyes closed, moaning in content as he ran his mouth and his nose over your panties. The hum and suckling noise when he pursed his lips around your clit, dragging it into his mouth. That sinful tongue--that long, skilled tongue slowly lapping at his ice cream--and the way he slowly lapped at you, savouring every single lick as if it was giving him as much pleasure as it was giving you.

You watched as he stuck his tongue out to lick at some of the ice cream that had dribbled on his chin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

He had done that too, once he was done turning you into a quivering, moaning mess beneath his mouth. You remembered how he raised up on his haunches, his eyes a blaze of fiery green, as he licked at his bottom lip and swiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

You had almost started to sweat, feeling the flush creeping up your chest.

“You look weird, kid,” his voice interrupted your thoughts, “You okay?”

You cleared your throat, begging your voice not to crack. Begging--you had begged him, too, begged him to make you feel good. And he did. He promised you he would, and oh God, he did. You ran a hand over your face, resisting to urge to knock the side of your head in an attempt to force the images out of your thoughts.

“I’m good,” you lied. You couldn’t meet his eyes anymore, as you felt that ache deep in your gut start again. Your legs shook slightly, your thighs trembling, remembering how good it felt. How good he felt, and how good he made you feel. The way he seemed completely focused on your pleasure, on making sure any little movement he made gave you pleasure. How he had checked in on you, made sure you were feeling good, before continuing anything. How he had made you cry out, clinging to him, gasping for air not one, but three earth shattering times.

Suddenly, you needed air. You needed air, and you needed space. Distance.

You stood, abruptly. Bill looked up mid-lick, his tongue still on his ice cream as his eyes peered up at you. That look. You closed your eyes, pinching your brow with your fingers.

“Finish tongue-fucking that ice cream, I have a lot of work to do tonight ” you said. Your tone had come out much, much harsher than you had intended, but you turned before you could catch the confused look on his face.

He dropped you off that night, the car ride home was a one-sided conversation as he talked about the new project and how long he’d be gone, what he was excited for, what his character would do. Walking you to your door, he wrapped his arms around you tightly and laid a wet smack of a kiss on your cheek.

“Let me know when you’re free to FaceTime,” he had said, his face tucked into your neck, “There’s not too many night shoots so our schedules should sync up.”

“ ‘kay.”

“And hopefully you can come out for a weekend, you’d probably like it there. New Tinder material for you,” he chuckled.

“ ‘kay.”

He pulled away, keeping his hands on your shoulders. You stared at his chest, but felt his eyes boring into you.

“Tiger,” he commanded, “look at me.”

When you shifted uncomfortably, he moved one hand to under your chin and tilted it up to meet his eyes.

“What’s going on with you?” he asked. You looked away, your chin still resting on his hand, and gave a half-hearted shrug. Images from before still clouded your brain, your pleasure receptors still firing on all cylinders at the memory of that mouth, those hands all over you. You let out a ragged breath, and his thumb and forefinger moved to pinch your chin.

“Are you getting awkward about what happened between us?” he asked and your eyes widened in surprise--sometimes his direct and straight-forward approach still caught you off guard.

“Jesus Bill,” you tried to move your chin away but he opened his hand, cupping your jaw.

“Answer me.”

“No, I’m not getting fucking awkward about it.”

“Eyes, kid.”

You dragged your eyes back to his and he saw right through you, raising his eyebrows in challenge. You pouted.

“Don’t lie to me, tiger,” his tone softened and he sighed, “Look, that night--did it feel good? Did you feel good?”

“Uh....yes,” you responded quietly. He bent at the knees, tilting his head to maintain eye contact with you when you tried to look away.

“And do you feel better now, after you got what you needed?” he asked. You hated this. You hated every part of how honest he was, how comfortable he was at having these insanely uncomfortable conversations.

“Ugh, Bill, I can’t--”

“Answer me.”

“Yes,” you whispered, heat blazing your cheeks. There was nothing but kindness in his eyes though, genuine honesty to his questions.

“You deserve to feel good. You needed to feel good. And you trusted me with that. And I helped?” he looked to you for confirmation.

“Yeah. Yeah you helped,” you confirmed. He smiled, stroking your cheek.

“And I was happy to. You’re my best friend, kid. I love you, and I wanted to help you. That’s it, okay? We promised it wouldn’t get awkward,” he looped an arm around you again, bringing you back in for a hug. ‘It’s just sex.”

“Fucking phenomenal sex,” you muttered into his chest.You felt his boisterous laugh, his arms squeezing you tighter.

“It was fucking phenomenal sex,” he pulled away and smiled at you. You tugged his jacket collar down, silently beckoning him to bend and you kissed his cheek.

“Have fun, Billy Goat,” you said.

“Be safe, tiger” he responded, “Stay outta trouble while I’m gone.”

And with a final wave as you shut your door, you watched him pull out into the street. He’d text you tomorrow morning from the airport, you knew, and again when he landed.

But tonight, tonight you still had an ache in your gut, a tremble in your thighs that you knew wouldn’t let you sleep until those pleasure receptors--ones that remembered all too well--were satiated again.

#BFF!Bill #BFF Bill #bill skarsgard drabble #bill skarsgard fic #bill skarsgard #nani asks #sometimes I hate writing #and it hates me right the fuck back

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velvetgons · 6 years ago

Text

insecurity

junkyu x gender neutral reader

genres; angst, fluff

word count; 6.2k

song recs; home - seventeen and bloom later - jesse !!

warnings; mentions of cheating, insecurity, self-doubt, pls don’t read if you think this could make you feel insecure or bad abt yourself!!!, copious amounts of fluff, kissing (is that a warning?)

requested; yes!! thank you angel :) [requests are open]

a/n; not much angst because uhh i am not so good at writing long angst oof

gif credit; hynsks on tumblr!! please tell me if you’d like it removed at any point :)

His footsteps receded into dull thumps as you remained sprawled across the surface of the sofa in your living room. The TV continued to blare on in front of you, your eyes trained forward on it as you could already feel yourself begin to miss the presence of him beside you. You huffed softly, focusing on another mindless action sequence mid-way through a movie you didn’t care about, squinting as you watched the lead drop multiple stories of stairs to land perfectly on his feet. A scoff passed your lips as you mumbled out a realistically too-loud-for-when-you’re-alone, “Is that even actually possible?”

“Is what even actually possible?” You heard Junkyu’s voice call back in response, your head twisting to see that he must’ve been yelling from the kitchen, the living room still devoid of him.

You dropped your head back toward the screen in disappointment before yelling back a quick, “Do you think you could drop down six flights of a stairs and be, like, totally unaffected?”

You received a loud laugh in response, “I can’t even walk upstairs, so, I’d say no.”

Biting back the laugh bubbling up in your throat, you huffed dramatically before re-wording. “No, not you, I just mean, like, a person.”

“Am I not a person?” Junkyu called back, multiple clanging sounds as he attempted to put dinner into the oven for you both meeting your ears in harsh jolts.

You hummed just loud enough for him to hear, “Barely,” you called in a sing-song tone, hearing him gasp in response, “anyway, who cares about that, answer my question.”

He laughed again, a bright grin turning your lips up at the sound, almost wishing he wouldn’t actually stop to speak just yet. “I care about that,” he began, before another banging sound resounded through your apartment, “but, hm, yeah, I do think it’s possible.”

A far louder, more offended scoff passed your lips then, “Seriously? I don’t.”

“Obviously,” you heard him call in response, your grin spreading across your features as you heard the oven door finally open, “check, so I can finally be right about something.”

Your hands dropped onto the soft cotton of the sofa, fingers splaying out as you swiped your hands around in an attempt to find your phone. You lifted your hips off of the sofa in an ungracious check to see if it’d ended up underneath you, finding nothing again. Double-checking the coffee-table, you remembered rushing upstairs only twenty minutes ago to charge it after it’d died while you’d been showing Junkyu dumb cat videos you’d found late the night before.

“Can I use your phone?” You called back in inquiry, knowing already he’d say yes like you both always did.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll be, like, two seconds, but go ahead.” Part of you felt suspicion bubble up at whatever he was still doing in the kitchen, the slight worry that he’d broken another almost impossible-to-break appliance hanging over you as you picked his phone up from the top of the table. You typed in his password without really thinking, his phone opening up to the picture of you and him from earlier that year, making you groan softly at the sight. It was one of his favourites – for evident reasons – he looked absolutely perfect, dressed well and smiling brightly at the camera; while you were wearing an oversized shirt of his, your hair messy from the day spent lounging around with him and Yedam, and you were caught off-guard, staring at him as if he was some kind of alien being.

Quickly moving onto opening the internet, you waited patiently for the home-page to load up, tapping your fingertips against the back of the phone. The sound of his text notification noise going off made you jump slightly, an embarrassed laugh passing your lips as you realised what it was. You’d usually ignore them, swiping them away as not to invade any sense of his privacy, but the sight of an unknown number peaked your interest. You pulled the text down to be able to read the whole thing, feeling your chest tighten at the words.

[19:28] unknown: I had so much fun today :) we definitely need to do it again soon, text me when she isn’t there and we can make more plans?

You breathed in sharply, feeling annoyance burst through you at yourself for jumping to conclusions. Breathing in deeply, you re-read the text, knowing it was probably nothing. It was probably a friend with a new phone, they probably weren’t doing anything bad, it was just bad timing to be catching one of their texts out of context.

Opening the message thread, you saw no more texts from the same number, sighing as you could already feel the likelihood of you obsessing over this growing. Just as you were about to close it and seek out Junkyu to get the asking him over with, another text came through.

[19:30] unknown: Just make sure she doesn’t find out!! We don’t want her knowing about this :) x

Junkyu dropped onto the sofa beside you, just as you closed the message thread to go back to the internet, your fingers stuttering over the keyboard. “So, who’s the smartest in this relationship, then?” You heard him ask, looking at you with raised brows.

You forced yourself to laugh in response, immediately feeling confusion at why you did that afterwards, “Wasn’t sure what to type, really.”

He laughed brightly, slipping the phone out of your hands before stopping and speaking again, “Oh, did I get a text? Thought I heard my phone go off.”

Humming softly you shrugged, “Uh huh, I clicked on it accidentally, but I went off it as soon I did. Sorry,” you mumbled softly, wondering if this would prompt him into anything.

He just shrugged, nodding, “It’s okay,” before his thumbs began tapping against his phone-screen again, “now, let’s see who truly is the intellectual here.”

That had been a week ago now. You’d told him when he’d texted to tell you he’d gotten home safe that you weren’t feeling well, so you’d go to bed early and couldn’t respond to his texts. He hadn’t seemed to have noticed anything, telling you he hoped you felt better soon and to tell him if you needed anything.

Suffice to say, you weren’t feeling better soon. You’d been using this sudden and strange illness to avoid Junkyu and all of your other friends for the entire week, only daring to leave the safety of your apartment to go to school and work, grabbing small amounts of shopping on the journey back and forth. Rationally, you knew that isolating yourself and allowing your mind to spin different versions of a story you truly didn’t know any detail of would only aggravate the issue. But it was like you couldn’t stop yourself; the second he’d stepped out of that door, you’d began picking at the possibilities like a scab, trying to dig past the surface and figure out by yourself what was going on underneath.

Clearly, it had been slow work, the pressure of beginning to imagine and picture your boyfriend in a relationship with someone else behind your back had gotten to you enough to make solitude feel like the best option. Before, in the unusual instance of you and Junkyu arguing, you’d seek out a mutual friend, you’d rant and they’d know him enough to give you suggestions on how to fix it. It was the exact same thing he did in response to arguments with you. That was one of your favourite things about the two of you, the fact that you were able to put your stubbornness aside and figure things out together. This time just felt different. It didn’t feel like a matter you could take to a mutual friend and ask for an un-biased opinion on.

Slumping further back into your sofa with the blanket bound around you, you groaned in discomfort, feeling like your head had a heartbeat as you attempted to figure out what had to be the hundredth theory you’d come up with. This is, you noted, where things had evidently gone very wrong, turning in a direction you had first thought was unattached from the beginning picture of him cheating on you.

Every day when you woke up now, you’d feel an ever-growing and ever-painful need to stand in front of the full-length mirror and pick yourself apart, piece by piece. Over these seven sessions going in-depth on why Junkyu must no longer love you and be attracted to you and therefore feel a need to cheat on you, you’d come to conclude that perhaps that was a lot more wrong with you than you’d first imagined. Even when you’d been at your lowest with insecurities, you’d never thought that you weren’t worth anything. In fact, you were all about things being about more than looks, that was a thing you always spread around within your friendship group.

Now, though, things felt more difficult than they ever had. You stood in front of that mirror and stopped seeing a person worthy of love and respect and care, a person with worth and meaning. All you saw now was someone made entirely of flaws and imperfections, someone who didn’t have a single redeeming quality that someone could fall in love with.

You were sure that by now you could write someone a numbered list on all of the things that must have made Junkyu fall into someone else’s arms. You had decided that there was something wrong with your hairstyle, your eyes, your nose, your mouth, your cheekbones, your neck, your chest, your stomach, your arms, your hands, your thighs, your calves, even finding a way to choose multiple flaws in something as minuscule as your temples.

It was overwhelming, the constant crushing weight of feeling yourself rationalising the possibility of somebody cheating on you, on top of trying to give a timeline to events you couldn’t even be sure were genuinely happening. Your phone went off, alerting you both that someone was trying to get in contact with you again and that you were, indeed, crying again. Sniffling softly, you picked your phone up from the sofa, turning it over to see if it was Junkyu again.

[17:40] yedam: :(( are you still sick? If you are pls let me bring you some medicine…you’ve been sick for so long now

You felt your heart warm softly, the slight concern for making someone as sweet as Yedam anxious weighing down on your chest for a few small moments. Swiping at some of the tears still falling down your cheeks, you supposed that you should probably check the other constant loop of messages you’d gotten from friends – and namely, totalling up to over twenty from Junkyu – that you hadn’t responded to. Worry bit into you, although you couldn’t find the energy to give any of them a coherent response, you figured if you just told one of them they could circulate it around themselves and be content again.

[17:42] to yedam: yeah, i’m still not the best :(( sorry bub, but i promise i’m 100% fine!! i got myself some medicine today, i’ll be ready to go in a couple days

You sighed softly, preparing to drop your phone back face-down onto your sofa and go back to binge watching movies you’d already seen to make yourself feel better, however the sound of your phone dinging again you decided to check it again.

[17:43] yedam: Oh my god!! A response!! I feel so special :)

[17:43] yedam: Anyway…Junkyu’s been really stressed over this…maybe you should…you know, text him back

You felt the dramatic side of you flare up again, telling you that you should explain the situation to Yedam and have him help you in any way he thought he could. However, the rational side of you told you that he’d go right back to Junkyu to tell him everything you were thinking of. You felt like all of those people who said they were at, ‘the end of their rope,’ and you couldn’t even fully explain or figure out why you were so wound up.

More tears dripped down your face as you gave in, letting yourself lift your knees up onto the sofa and curl into yourself. Soft sobs left your lips as you reminded yourself that crying loudly was okay, because there was, as per usual nowadays, no one else here. Your phone dinged again, and again, going off a few times while you gave up on counting them, your sobs growing in volume. You let yourself continue on like this, feeling your breathing finally begin to even-out again as you reached over to curl your fingertips around your phone.

Lifting it closer to your face so you could check what the collection of texts had been. Your breathing that had just finished slipping back to a good, steady rhythm, it suddenly went off again, feeling as if your chest was being pressed down on again.

[17:48] junkyu: you’re still sick?? is that why you haven’t been responding??

[17:50] yedam: Okay I’m sorry but I told Junkyu you’re still sick

[17:52] yedam: He’s just gonna come check up on you, ok? Don’t start worrying about how you look again bub I’m sure you look fine :) ily

[17:57] junkyu: hi babe i’m kinda uh gonna be at ur place in 5 so pls open the door 4 ur favourite boy!!!

Coughing softly in an attempt to quicken the process of evening out your breathing, you checked the time, seeing it was already 6pm. You yanked yourself up to your feet, rushing down the hall to your bathroom and checking your splotched face. You fumbled, hands shaking as you gripped onto the cold steel of the cold tap and spun it, hearing the water splash against the sink as you closed your eyes and focused on pulling full breaths back into your lungs.

You took handfuls of the water and threw it onto your face, scrubbing it into your face and sighing when you saw the little it was doing to help clean up the evidence from crying on your face. Sparing a glance down to your outfit, you wished you could find the time to change, but you could already hear him knocking at your front door.

Heading back toward the front door, you could physically feel your heart moving up into your chest, your eyes clouding over with tears again of their own accord as you pulled the door handle down. Pulling the door open to reveal Junkyu, you almost let yourself cry again, feeling the mixed emotions clang together inside your chest and throat. Part of you wanted to cry at the relief of finally seeing him again, knowing you’d missed him more than you were ready to accept over the week, but the other part of you was reminding you that this was the boy who was going to break your heart.

“Baby!” He shouted, stepping into the apartment as he immediately swept you into his arms, locking them around your waist tightly as he tugged you impossibly close to him. “I wish you would’ve told me you were still sick sooner, I would’ve come.”

A pang of guilt ran through you at the sentiment behind his words, the feeling of knowing that he still cared for you rushing through you. Although, you pondered, could someone truly care about you if they were cheating on you, if they were doing something that would hurt you in the long run. You hummed in response, your arms curling themselves around him of their own consciousness.

He pulled back from you, his fingertips meeting yours and linking your hands together as he dragged you back in the direction of the living room. Seeing him navigate his way through the place you called home so confidently and naturally made an entirely different feeling wash over you, one of nostalgia and slight shame at the notion that you were lying to him purely because you doubted him so entirely. You weren’t entirely sure of what to do with yourself now that you had any lingering – or constant and overwhelming – negative feelings directed towards him. You’d never been caught in a position like this with him before, and now it left you wondering over how you were expected to act around the person you had definitively decided had cheated on you.

By the time you got far enough away from your thoughts to look at him confidently, you saw him smiling back softly, observing the way your face scrunched up in discomfort with worry ghosting on his features. “Do you think it’s a virus?” He began gently, keeping his voice low and whispered as if not to disturb a headache you didn’t really have.

His actions made you double-guess yourself, thinking back to what could now be construed as completely irrational threads of thought if he debunked them for you. The feeling of his hand coming to clasp yours warmly, gripping it within his own as he leant across to press a quick kiss to your cheek as if he was deeply concerned for you in your silence. Every piece of his actions made you desperate to flinch away, maybe in disbelief that this boy who was – in acceptance of the cheesiness of such a statement – literally made from honey with how sweet he was could possibly hurt you like this, or maybe more so for the belief that he’d see things you thought he’d fallen for, when in fact they could have been what ruined you. You could feel your hand begin to tremble as you felt the first salty trail of tears begin, wishing against all reality that they would just stop in their tracks before he noticed them.

Seven days’ worth of insecurity and shame smacked against you, washing over you like a wave and swallowing you up, spreading across your chest from the inside. You suddenly felt as if you were far too exposed, as if a hundred eyes were pointing at you like you had become some kind of exhibit. The examples of things to fixate on and hate about yourself suddenly sprung themselves to the forefront of your mind, your eyes shutting tightly as more tears fell against your mental protest. Insecurity had never, in all honesty, been something you had been good in any way at dealing with – perhaps, though, what you’d found comfort and honesty in before had been the things surrounding you, which, to your current dismay, must have always included Junkyu.

The weight of an arm wrapping around your shoulders and tugging you to be pressed safely against a sturdy chest made your heart speed up. Butterflies had been something you found yourself experiencing a lot with Junkyu, the knowledge that there was so much emotion and tenderness behind the small mundane actions always making you feel so swarmed with love. Now, though, the butterflies slammed against your rib-cage and made you feel like your head was pounding with some subdued panic you couldn’t fight.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he soothed softly, pressing a flutter of feather-light kisses to your temple in order to calm your sobbing, “does it hurt?” He pressed forward, all the while tracing calming circles and minuscule hearts onto the skin of the hand still linked with his.

Your immediate reaction was to nod, and you found yourself doing so as your hands tightened around the fabric of his shirt, burying your face into his chest to avoid the fear of him seeing you looking worse than you already pictured yourself. Your mouth opened and then closed again, and you found yourself scrambling to form a sentence of some kind that would summarise how you felt, what you were thinking, all the questions you had wanted to fire off at him since he’d left your apartment a week ago. But you just couldn’t find it within yourself, you couldn’t find the ability to question him when you were so sure you already knew why a boy like him would do this to a girl like you.

“Can I get you something, baby? Where does it hurt? Do I need to call someone?” Junkyu’s voice had risen slightly, making you wonder if you’d missed something he’d said in a haze while you fought to keep yourself hidden despite his protest. He seemed to be trying to figure out how bad you were feeling from looking at your face, but the panic that rose within you at the prospect of him doing so made your hold around him tighten.

His rush of panicked questioning only made the pit of confusion in your stomach open up further, and you couldn’t quite find a safe conclusion for all the things you were feeling at once. For a moment, his movements completely stilled, before he softly pushed you away from him, your body not having the strength to cling onto him any longer. As you slipped away from his body, his arms still firmly locked around your waist, you kept your eyes trained downwards, avoiding ever catching his eyes directly.

“Baby,” he began cautiously, “is…is something really wrong? Are you, like, badly sick? Do I need to definitely call someone?” The pure fear and apprehension tightened behind his words made the knot form itself back up in your throat, threatening to cover over the previous track of tears once again.

Shaking your head lightly, you knew that you didn’t have any room to manoeuvre a story in your favour anymore, that it was time to finally confess what was going on in your head to him. A searing jolt ran through you then, seeing the words tumbling past your chapped lips acting as a kind of finish line, as a brick wall on everything you’d built with Junkyu for the time ahead of you both.

“I’m not…Junkyu, I’m not sick.” You choked out, making sure to avoid looking into his eyes, knowing the moment you did would be the moment you lost all the strength to continue this conversation with him.

He tilted his head at you, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, “What’s, what’s been wrong then?” For a moment, he stopped to wonder over something, before one of his hands found their way to cup your jaw, tilting your head upwards to look at him, “Why couldn’t you tell me there was something wrong?”

This question, although he didn’t know the meaning you were reading behind it, slapped you across the face. In all honesty, you knew you couldn’t be angry with him if he walked away from this, even if he had been entirely faithful, even if you were broken down by now, you couldn’t be angered by any reaction he had if he wasn’t at fault, because it was a painful thing to be accused of. You wondered what was worse – being accused of cheating on the person you loved most and were entirely faithful too, or feeling the need to accuse the person you loved most and trusted entirely of cheating.

“I’d have helped, whatever it was, you know that, right?” He questioned, his voice filling the silence and the hollow in your chest. At this, you searched across his face, trying to see if there was anything that could give you an answer before you dived head-first into the deep end of a conversation you didn’t ever want to have with him.

You exhaled softly, closing your eyes and willing the lump in your throat to just disappear, or maybe you were just wishing someone somewhere could give you some kind of extra emotional strength in that moment. “Junkyu, I, can I ask you a question? One that’s probably not…the nicest, I guess. I just…I need you to be completely honest when you answer me.”

Watching him intently, you observed the way he seemed to hesitate at the request. This immediately came across as a bad sign, a red flag that whatever his answer was it had to be picked at, it had to be torn apart until you could twist it into something you could believe. However, he nodded afterwards, swallowing thickly as his hands adjusted to slip more of your balled up fist into it, allowing you to feel the warmth of his palm as he tightened his hand back around yours.

You basked in this action, wondering if it would be the last time you’d get to feel his hand in yours. “Okay, I…” you sighed, moving your free hand to rub at your tired eyes before beginning again. “Are you cheating on me?” Once the words had actually left your mouth, the notion of not finding the confidence or the will to say them beforehand seemed almost comical. The easiness and fluency behind saying such a simply string of words and not thinking about the weight the order of them held was almost too funny to imagine being a difficult task.

At this, Junkyu recoiled, his mouth dropping open as his eyes narrowed at the space around, as if the words had become a physical thing he could see floating tauntingly in the air around him. “I, am I what? Why would…why do you even believe, for a second, that I even could do something like that to you?” The words left him in a jumbled, loud mess, but you knew what he was getting at.

How could you ever actually accuse him of cheating on you? What had made you believe that he had the ability to complete such a cruel act in the first place? If you were going to bring up the texts, you knew it had to be then. It was strange thinking about the concept now, your only proof and backing behind such a bold idea being two short texts that had popped up on his phone, that you could easily have asked him about seconds after you saw them. And now, you sat across from him, an entire week later, spewing a question that had so little to hold it up directly to his face.

“Junkyu, I, I saw some texts on your phone, from this…unknown number. And I get it, you probably think I’m overreacting, but they were weird texts, and I didn’t feel good about them.” You rambled, your empty hands now knotting together to tug at the fingers of each other in an attempt to escape the sheer anxiety building up inside you.

He looked confused for a moment, like he truly didn’t have any idea what you were talking about. “What, last week?” You nodded in response, dropping the eye contact as he huffed in response. “It’s been seven days! Why didn’t you just ask me about them if you felt weird about it? I would’ve answered!”

“You’re not answering now!” You scoffed, finally finding the courage to look up at him as he tilted his head at you in a lost manner again. Something about his actions made him seem almost childlike, as if there was no way possible he should be involved in a moment like this one.

He raised his hands to push his hair back out of his face, “Okay, okay, fine, I just, I don’t,” he paused to breathe in shakily, “you told me you didn’t see them.”

“Would it have been better if I didn’t? Are you…actually hiding something, Junkyu?” Your voice cracked at the end, the foreknowledge that he’d start crying soon under the pressure and strain of the argument starting to get to you.

You heard a small sniffle before he continued, “Well, I mean, yeah, but not for the reason you think it is, I…you, just, you lied to me, you know? I wish you would’ve just told me, baby. This isn’t…it’s not what you think it is.”

Having watched a lot of drama movies in your life, you knew that line was straight out of a cheater’s handbook. But, as he’d said earlier, looking at it in a full picture, did you really believe that Junkyu was genuinely able to do something like that? You weren’t so sure anymore, but the insecurity and fear inside of you was beginning to nip at your skin again, leaving you in an uncomfortable position of not even understanding your own logic.

“Then, what is it, Junkyu? I know I…I lied to you, I know, I just, I was scared. And I know you are, too, but if you did it…I get it, okay, I really do.” You breathed out, feeling a few stray tears escape to make their way down from your eyelashes only to be swiped at by the sleeve of your jumper.

At this, he seemed to jump as if you’d yelled at him, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to string together a sentence. “What are you talking about? You’d get it? Why…why would you understand someone doing something like that to you?”

“I didn’t say someone, I said you,” you began softly, a bitter laughing bubbling past your lips, “you’re, you know, you, and I’m, well I’m not exactly anywhere near your level, am I?”

Junkyu visibly startled, staring wide-eyed at you, looking more offended than when you’d posed your initial question. “I…baby, okay, um, let’s, take this one step at a time, alright?” You looked at him sceptically for a quiet second, nodding your head softly as he swiped harshly at the first tear to slip down his cheek.

“I didn’t cheat on you, okay? I wouldn’t. I’m, to be honest, I’m a little offended you think I’d ever do that, but, it’s, I can understand why it looks bad.” He fumbled about in the back pocket of his jeans for a second, pulling his phone forward so you could see it, skimming to tap in his password before re-opening the message thread again. Briefly, you wondered if this was something you actually wanted to see, but you knew you’d have to put your faith back in Junkyu as some point soon. He swiped up from a couple of messages, allowing you to briefly see the name had been changed to a saved contact, but you couldn’t read the screen from the angle you were at.

He turned the screen toward you, prompting you to read whatever was on it, as you took it from his hands. Your eyes skimmed across the messages as you felt your stomach rise from the pit it had been slumped into for the week behind you, although the guilt at your actions seeped into its place soon after.

The contact name simply read, ‘Mashi ♡.’ The texts underneath the one’s you’d seen all followed basic format, with normal day-to-day conversations and dumb jokes, Mashiho always finishing off the texts with little kisses or smiley faces. You were sure, from knowing him a while beforehand, that he did this with nearly everyone at some point or another during a conversation.

Your eyebrows scrunched up, “What…what was he talking about, then? It, just, I’m sorry, I just, I don’t understand, am I missing something?”

Junkyu chuckled softly, his eyes watery as he looked directly at you, “Yeah, uh, I wasn’t really supposed to tell you but, given the circumstances…we’re kind of, planning a surprise trip for you.” He shrugged, eyes leaving yours in an almost boyishly shy manner that you wouldn’t have expected to see from his earlier demeaner.

“A what?” You asked, a blush curling up to your cheeks as you looked down, unsure if the sudden bashfulness within you was from the embarrassment at your accusations or the sweetness behind their actions.

Junkyu hummed again, “You’ve just been stressed a lot lately, you know? So, we wanted to give you a break, take you somewhere nice, but…I know you hate planning trips, so we wanted to keep it a secret so it didn’t make things worse.”

You dropped your face into your hands, guilt flooding through you as you noticed just how kind both him and Mashiho were being about a situation you had no idea about. “Mashi just got a new phone, he, he asked me to give you his number but I forgot and then you got sick and I, I was gonna give it you when you were better.”

His ramble made you look up again, seeing his swipe at his cheeks again as he noticed the tears falling freely down your face for what seemed to be the millionth time that week. His hands moved to quickly cup your face, thumbs swiping tears away as he shook his head, “Don’t, don’t cry, it’s, I’m not angry, I’m a little upset, but, it’s okay, we’re okay, okay? Can you…can you tell me it’s okay? I just wanna fix this.”

Seeing his tears fall faster, you moved the fabric of your jumper to cover your hands and moved them to mirror his actions, swiping the sweater paws to catch the tears as they fell. He laughed lightly, smiling at you as grinned back at him, your head falling onto his shoulder at how ridiculous the situation seemed now. “There’s nothing to fix, I…I should’ve just asked, I’m so sorry, you know, I, I should never have let myself believe you could do that to me, or anyone.”

At this, he cleared his throat, rousing you from his shoulder and back into his line of sight. “We need to talk about what you said earlier, yeah?” You swallowed nervously before nodding, feeling his hands tug you up and into his lap. “I…can’t even begin to explain how wrong you are,” he mumbled, “how long have you been thinking like this?”

“Not long, I promise,” you began, watching as he seemed to breath out a sigh of relief, “I just, ever since I saw the texts, I guess. I just feel like I’m never gonna be able to be on the same…level as you, you know? I’m never gonna be good-looking enough for you, or have the perfect enough body type for you, I’m just never gonna be enough for you.” You said softly, your voice dropping into almost silence as you spoke.

Junkyu stayed quiet for a few minutes, as if trying to process and then understand the words being spoken to him. “No.” He said after you could feel the air begin to grow thick with apprehension of his answer.

You rose your eyebrows at him, “No?”

“You’re wrong.” He concluded, nodding once at you as if to lock the fact into your brain.

Unsure of how to argue with him on this, you simply sighed, “Junkyu, I, it’s okay. I’m okay just, being with you for as long as you need to find someone who’s…enough.”

Junkyu jolted underneath you, his hold on you seeming to tighten as his face curdled in disgust at your comment. “Baby…” he began against, his voice laced with weighed down sadness and panic, “that’s not, you shouldn’t ever lower yourself to think that way.” Just as you opened your mouth to confirm that in your mind, this was just a line in the sand, something you wouldn’t be able to cross with him for however long he stayed with you.

“No,” he interrupted your thoughts again, even gentler than before, “just, listen for a second, hm?” He waited a beat for you to nod in confirmation before beginning, “You’re enough. Not just for me, though, okay? You’re…hard-working, strong, smart, determined, kind, and…so, so much more, I don’t even have the words to begin describing you, you know? You just…you inspire me so much, and you don’t even know it. Everything you do is so beautiful and powerful and, don’t even get me started on your looks because I could talk all day. If you’re enough for yourself, then you’re far more than enough for me.”

You knew you were crying by the time he finished speaking, his hands had began flailing to hammer in just how specific he was being, his eyes shifting all around the room. When he finally looked back at you, a soft and shy smile turned the corners of his mouth up, his hands moving to swipe your tears away.

“Happy tears?” He checked, stooping his head down lower so he could finally look into your eyes again.

You nodded at him, a laugh falling past your lips, your head dropping further into his palm pressed to your cheek, “Happy tears,” you confirmed softly.

A bright smile lit up his features as he leant himself upwards slightly, his hand resting on your jaw bringing you close enough that your noses were touching, lips hanging centimetres apart from one another. “I know you say I don’t have to this anymore,” he began, making a laugh tumble past your lips again, “but, you know, can I kiss you?”

You nodded, your lips falling from their smile as he pressed his own against yours. The kiss was soft, his lips moving slowly and sweetly against yours as he dropped a single hand from your face to grab at one of the hands laid flat against his chest, curling his fingertips back around it. You felt his lips move upwards into a small as you squeezed his hand in response, you mirroring his action as he tightened his hand around yours in response.

#ygtblbr #i haven't put the link in my bio to the library yet...oof...i'll do it as soon as i have time to figure out how to do that!!#yg treasure box scenarios #yg treasure box imagines #yg treasure box reactions #ygtb scenarios #ygtb imagines #ygtb reactions #junkyu scenarios #kim junkyu #writings//

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suenala · 5 years ago

Text

BTS-story ; well, here i am.

episode 4 ; 'she's cocky.'

prev. < tsilretsam

[genre] ; fluff

[fandom] ; 방탄소년단

[⚠] ; cuss must bust

–

Fee: "Hey yn," -she talks from behind her locker door-

Yn: "Hm?" -i start changing my clothes and shoving everything into my duffle bag and then shoving THAT into my locker-

Fee: "What's your number?"

Yn: "You have my number...?"

Fee: "No i dont..?"

Yn: "Yes you do...?"

Fee: "Well, tell me, i don't remember then."

Yn: "Oh, fine its 25326-'

Fee: "No you idiot, your fucking number on your tag!" -she doesn't even look at me and smacks me on the back of my head-

Yn: "Oh, uh..25, how 'bout you?" -i sit on the bench behind me, rubbing my head-

Fee: "Dang, 46."

Yn: "Dang?" -as she finishes up, she turns around towards me and gestures to leave-

Fee: Walk and talk, lets go. Anyway, yeah, i wanted to go sooner."

Yn: "Hm? Why?"

Fee: "I don't know, if i was best, then they'll probably have a hard time judging others, no offense...hehe."

Yn: "Don't they record them? They can always look back to remember."

Fee: "Hm, i guess you are right." -we slowly stop talking as we re-enter the studio. This time the lights and cameras were set up-

We had an half-hour refresh session so everyone and practice. My number was 25 so I had plenty of time to work on my own choreography, they said they will be going by twenty but theres alot of us so...this'll be awhile.

[Thirty minutes later]

Namjoon: "Okay, i hope everyone's warmed up?"

Everyone: "Yes!"

Namjoon: "Okay, we're going to need the numbers 1-20 to stay please and the rest can exit. After they are done we'll take a 25-minute break and the group next can come in, got it?"

Jin: -whispers- "namjoon.., they aren't dogs.."

Namjoon: "Shut up."

We all exit and sit outside waiting..well some of us, it was like an hour and a half till it was our time but before that, mostly everyone went to other studio rooms to practice or some fell asleep or something but for me and fee just sat there talking. We were actually pretty confident we would make it to the next round but maybe that's just us, i guess a lot of girls need that (confidence) to perform but i felt like maybe something was going to be a bit different.

[Hour and a half later]

Girl 1: "Dude, im so exhausted.."

Girl 2: "i know right? Me too, good job out there by the way." -she wipes her forehead with a towel as she's walking out-

Jhope: "Wow! I was super impressed! You all danced well today!"

Jimin: "I agree, you all must've worked very hard, huh?"

All the boys follow each other out as they bow and hand out water bottles to the girls. We all know damn well that they didn't need it lol maybe its because its from celebrities?

Jhope: "Don't worry, we won't be long!"

Suga: "Hoseok, just go."

They all wave and bow to us as they walked into a break room reserved for them, they're lucky too, that room is one of our biggest and has couches and T.V’s, lots of food and drinks and other stuff. Usually, that would be reserved for the studio staff or VIP members like me but the staff got a smaller one instead.

Every time I saw a teacher walk past the room, they would roll their eyes as their seeing it taken away from them, but you know, sucks to suck.

[25 miNuTeS LaTer]

The next 20 girls walked in and the boys were already there. We all sat against a wall while the first girl went, the boys looked so focused and when they saw something surprising they seemed genuinely impressed. It gave me alot of courage because then maybe i can do something that'll have taken them aback..., thats until I heard people whispering and talking about me, saying things like; “Omg, I totally forgot we were up against yn..”, “Should we just leave now? We have no chance with her here.” etc. To be honest, it gave me some joy that people thought I was intimidating but also it was sad that people put themselves down just cause I was in the competition too, I didn't want to say anything cause I had a feeling that maybe they would think I was being...conceited but really, what should i do? Quit?

Soon enough time passed and it was my turn, I stood there in front of 19 other girls and seven boys, I stretched thoroughly, cracking every bone in my body and gave them my requested song. For my audition i had selected to be in a duo so I called in henry, i wanted to have more people dance with us but ...they wouldn't get credit since they had to do their own dances when it was their turn plus henry wasn't going to audition—he slacks off too much.

They play on the music and once the intro starts— i immediately get a shot of adrenaline into my body. That's the best part of dancing in front of a crowd, the racing heart wanting to blow out of your chest, the massive amounts of energy that come along— i just feel so awake and enliven. Its like dancing is a drug, i can practice hours on end and yeah i can get tired but i can never get tired (you kno'¿ lolol), i crave for the side effects; the sweat, the dehydration. I love it all.

Everyone sits up and starts bobbing their heads to the beat of the song. They've all seen me dance before and i got to say, im not the best but im sure as hell far away from worst. As their all getting ready to watch me go, the boys are also getting interested, they want to see me dance like before or BETTER than before- all that this morning, it was just all practice, surely im better than that.

I move my body to the beat of the intro and we get into position for the first lyric.

[song] ; a.c.e- black and blue

Im in full focus.

I start dancing with a sharp move—my upper half bopping to the sound. One minute in the song and i can feel the burn, im moving as fast as my body can go and making sure that my moves are as sharp as can be. Really, i didnt care if i got selected. When he asked me if ill be participating i was a bit unsure really and when Jimin said i didn't care i just thought, well "we'll see."

I have to admit that even if i dont get picked, this was really fun, this competition. I get to really see what my peers are made of and they get to see me at my fullest.

Yn: -i make contact with jhope and we stare at each other for a while until i wink and blow a kiss, you would think he would be used to it but it seemed like he got flustered a bit-

Jimin: "Isn't she really good?!" -He whispers to the other members-

Jhope: -scoffs- "Tsk, she's cocky." -he mutters-

I can see Jhope writing on the clipboard with a smirk, was he impressed?

The music ends and I stand there for a minute breathing heavily. Henry pats me on the back and bows to everyone as he leaves, I take a deep breath and stand next to the door. All the other girls tell me that i did a good job and said I was amazing but, I look over to the members and their expressions were so...blank? I can't tell if they enjoyed it or not well besides Jimin, he's smiling from ear to ear, at least someone thought it was good, right...?

I end up having eye contact with jhope again and he raises a brow.

Namjoon: "Okay! Good job #25! Next please!"

Another girl goes up and its a much slower paced than what I just danced to, sigh, this will be a long day won't it?

–

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taeheyhey · 6 years ago

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Chapter 18 - What Are We Doing Now?

Taehyung x Reader - Fluff/Angst - 3.8k words

A/N - Helloooo! Here is chapter 18, I hope you all enjoy it a lot! If you have time or the inclination, please leave me a like or a comment or a wee reblog, it really helps motivate me to keep on writing and to try to create better things. BTW If you have sent me a request, rest assured I'm getting through them!

Thank you for being so lovely to me and for reading my story...it means the world! ♥

One ~ Two ~ Three ~ Four ~ Five ~ Six ~ Seven ~ Eight ~ Nine ~ Ten ~ Eleven ~ Twelve ~ Thirteen ~ Fourteen ~ Fifteen ~ Sixteen ~ Seventeen ~ Eighteen ~ Nineteen ~ Twenty ~ Twenty-One ~ Twenty-Two

It had taken some time and an awful lot of effort, but for the most part life had returned more or less to normal. There were still times, particularly when you weren’t working at the bar or otherwise occupied, where thoughts of Taehyung would take up residence in your mind and stubbornly stay there for an hour or two, sometimes longer. On more than a few of these occasions you had felt the very powerful urge to crack open your ancient laptop and indulge in a quick image search, just to remind yourself that, yes: that inhumanly beautiful, kind and talented man had brightened the mundanity of your life for the briefest of moments.

You had decided early on it would be advisable to persist in resisting these urges to the best of your ability, mostly for your own emotional well-being. There was no way you could trivialise the significance of the time you had spent together, but to dwell on the loss of it was ultimately unconstructive and damaging, and you decided you had spent far too much of your life allowing the actions of others to dictate your own. You would always treasure those few days with Taehyung, but you told yourself that you could – and would – move on from it.

Not only did you tell yourself, you also told Ronnie, loudly and often. There would probably have been more chance of him believing you if he hadn’t decided to check in on you on one of your nights off. He had found you most of the way through a bottle of wine and a large Toblerone, the room in darkness but for the glow from the laptop, headphones in and completely engrossed and teary-eyed over a compilation video of Taehyung with animals, gesturing despairingly in silence at the video. You had woken the following morning with a hangover and a half-melted chocolate triangle stuck to your neck and committed to a YouTube and all round Taehyung internet search ban for the sake of your sanity.

Still the hours turned in to days and then in to weeks as they have a tendency to do and before you knew it, it had been three months since that fateful night at the hotel in the city. You had spent a large potion of your days searching for an extra job to help Ronnie pay for the upkeep of the bar. He refused to let you work for him for room and board and insisted on paying you a wage, even though dwindling patron numbers and rapidly increasing rent meant he could scarcely afford it.

“I know you don’t like talking about it with me Ronnie, but how long can we realistically keep this place open if we keep having nights like last night?” you called to him behind the bar.

He was rearranging the bottles of liquor and spirits for want of something to do. He would normally be re-stocking the fridges but given that only two bottles had been removed from them, it wouldn’t have occupied him for very long.

You were counting out the money from the previous day, not that it took a great deal of time to do so. Over the space of five hours, four people had walked through the door of Ronnie’s. One was Peter, two made up an elderly couple who came in once a week to nurse one drink each over a two hour period, and the last had been a gentleman who had gotten lost on the way to the city centre and needed to use the bathroom. You had at least managed to talk him in to buying a coke.

“What’s all this 'we' talk? It’s not your problem to worry about.” He retorted, shifting his eyes indecisively back and forth between an unopened bottle of beer and the large mug of black coffee you had placed in front of him some minutes earlier.

You observed him through his reflection in the mirror behind the bar, and to your immense relief he turned to face you with the mug in his hand, before walking around the bar to sit down and join you. “What do you mean 'not my problem'? If Hannah comes back and finds out I’ve not been looking after you, she’ll nag both of us to the brink of insanity.”

He grumbled in acknowledgement. “She always was like her mother,” he smiled sadly and sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink to cover up the waver in his voice.

You reached over the table and placed your hand on his forearm and squoze in what you hoped was a reassuring manner. Hannah had been gone for over half a year now, and he was obviously missing her, and you used the ensuing silence to consider how best to respond to Ronnie’s sudden melancholy.

You had learned not to push it when it came to his vulnerable moments, you simply had to take your cues from him and wait to see if he elaborated, if he did not the most constructive option was to move the conversation on to something else. Usually food.

“Should I go down to the cafe and get us some lunch?” You proposed after waiting a sufficient amount of time for him to continue the conversation should he wish to do so.

As if by magic his face brightened, and even if it was solely for you benefit you were relieved, knowing that he would be embarrassed later on if he continued to wallow in front of you. He reached in to his pocket to retrieve his wallet, and you placed a stilling hand on his shoulder.

“Please just let me do this at least? Peter gave me a twenty last night.” You announced, pulling the note from the back pocket of your jeans and holding it aloft like a precious relic.

“Jesus, what’s that all about?” Ronnie pondered aloud, shuffling off his chair and making for the sink with his now empty mug, picking up yours on the way.

Peter had been a fixture in the bar almost all day, every day since you had begun working at Ronnie’s, always wearing the same brown overcoat and thin-lipped grimace beneath his unkempt beard, and he rarely tipped, only at Christmas and on the rare occasions he had won at the horses. “Who knows? Maybe he’s secretly loaded?”

“Well it would make sense, it’s hard not to make a success of yourself with that level of charisma,” Ronnie quipped in response.

You smiled wryly and pulled on your hoodie, pulling open the front door as Peter barrelled in with impeccable timing. As the door closed behind you and your stepped out in to the drizzling rain, you heard Ronnie bellow an overly enthusiastic greeting at Peter for comic effect.

You pulled your hood over your untidy hair and shoved your hands in to your pockets as you faced in to the wind on your way to the cafe. You could remember running down this path away from Taehyung playfully and feeling as though you didn’t have a care in the world. You imagined how different a figure you cut now, shoulders hunched over against the weather, eyes downcast as you allowed the grief to consume you just for this walk; just while you were alone.

In much the same way as Ronnie’s rapid switch from his gloomy countenance earlier was largely for your benefit, your own emotional recovery was feigned in large part to reduce how often you would find him watching you with ill-concealed concern plastered across his face. Your despondency was abruptly overpowered by guilt as you wondered how much of Ronnie’s own sadness at missing his daughter he had successfully hidden from you as you wallowed in the wake of Taehyung’s departure.

Before you could think on it for much longer you had arrived at the cafe. You placed your fingers around the door handle and took a deep breath in. You hadn’t been in here since that morning with Taehyung, and you felt that familiar clenching in your heart and the hot sting behind your eyes. Again, you allowed yourself to feel it only for a few moments before exhaling and pushing down on the handle.

There were no more than three tables occupied in the cafe, the breakfast rush long since ended, and those that were seated paid little attention to you as you entered the room, save for the couple by the front door who grumbled simultaneously as a sliver of the outside was allowed in with your arrival.

Over by the counter you could see Jess talking intimately with a young man wearing a woollen hat pulled down over his ears, and she giggled coquettishly as he stretched over the bar and planted a peck on her cheek. She looked so happy. That is until she raised her eyes at the sound of the door being blown shut again and found you smiling warmly at her. Her eyes widened and her jaw dropped loose, the beginning of your name falling from her open mouth.

You frowned, perturbed by her reaction to your presence, until the man in the hat turned to the entrance to follow the line of Jess' gaze. Mark.

You could feel your eyebrows make a mad dash towards your hairline as you took in their shocked expressions, almost comical in their similarity. After a beat you allowed your face to relax as you strolled over to them, trying not to be unsettled by the dual frozen stare you were being subjected to.

You could understand why they were freaked out, but you were honestly more interested in getting back to Ronnie equipped with lunch.

“Hi,” you offered in greeting to both of them, although it left your mouth as a question.

“I’m, um...just going to...” Mark awkwardly shuffled around you and headed for the restrooms, almost pushing open the ladies door in his fluster.

You were left face to face with Jess, whose eyes were still the size of saucers and whose mouth was opening and closing uselessly like a fish. “Y/N I...” she finally mumbled.

“Jess, calm down. What do you think is happening right now?” You had absolutely no issue with her, you never had, and you certainly were not going to allow something as inconsequential as your ex-boyfriend dating her make that somehow be otherwise.

She still looked edgy and incredibly apologetic, her eyebrows knitted together in a picture of remorse. “Did someone tell you about us? Is that why you’re here?”

You sighed heavily. “Honestly Jess, I just want a sandwich. No offence, but I genuinely couldn’t care less that Mark’s out there again.” You ran your finger down the menu as you spoke, your focus on the task at hand. You raised your eyes to meet hers earnestly for a moment. “Is he good to you?”

She eyed you warily as though it was a trick question. “Yes,” she eventually answered, her posture relaxing visibly. “Oh,” she said suddenly, her face lighting up with realisation and relief. “You were with that really good-looking guy right? Of course. Jesus,” you could see her eyes glaze over and you knew she was trying to visualise him. “How’s that going?” Her tone was jovial now and she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively the way she had when you had sat opposite Taehyung a quarter of a year ago.

You gave a tight-lipped smile in response and returned your gaze to the menu so she couldn’t see the tears begin to gather at the memory. “It’s not,” you answered quietly.

“Oh,” came her reply, and she reached over the counter cautiously before awkwardly patting the top of your hand that was resting there.

Mark chose this moment to resume his position opposite Jess on the customer side of the counter, with a slight angle adjustment to ensure he left a wide area to allow for your presence as though you might physically lash out at any moment. Jess shifted her eyes back and forth between the two of you and the entire situation suddenly struck you as totally ridiculous, breaking you from your sombre reminiscence and causing an amused snort to burst forth from you, making Mark jump almost a foot in the air such was the anxiety you seemed to have instilled in him.

The tension broken between you and Jess at least, she joined you in your laughter much to Mark's chagrin, his expression only causing you both to laugh harder. “What are you having then?” She managed after taking some deep breaths.

“Two large BLTs please, hold the lettuce and tomato on one.”

She smiled and nodded, turning to face the grill and seeing to your order, leaving you and your ex-boyfriend to stand side-by-side in uncomfortable silence, from his perspective at least.

Just as Jess began to wrap the two sandwiches in paper, Mark turned to you. “How have you been?”

The words were strained, forced, and you knew he must feel embarrassed about the last time you had seen him.

“Good,” you answered noncommittally. “You?”

“Well you know...” he muttered while you fantasised about nails scraping down a chalkboard as a preferable alternative to this conversation. “Are you still seeing –”

“We really don’t need to do this, Mark,” you cut him off, gratefully accepting the two wrapped parcels as Jess handed them over to you. She took the twenty from your grasp in turn and pushed seemingly random buttons in the register to open it. You leant close to your ex so you couldn’t be heard by anyone else. “Don’t fuck this up with her, okay?” you advised sincerely before taking your change and offering them both a genuine parting smile, pulling the front door open once more to incur the passive-aggressive wrath of the chilly couple by the entrance.

~~~

“I still don’t understand why you want us all to wear these, Jimin.” Jin called out as he stood in the doorway of the studio, a pink towelling headband adorned with a spotted bow dangling from his long finger and held away from his body with faint disgust in his expression as though it smelled unpleasant.

Jungkook was adjusting his own headband in the wall of full length mirrors at one end of the entirely white room, frowning as he pulled it forwards and then pushed it back again. “Because it’s funny, hyung,” he answered on Jimin’s behalf as he saw him speaking quietly with a blatantly forlorn Taehyung in the opposite corner of the room.

Namjoon had been standing with them initially, the three of them whispering with their heads close together, the leader occasionally extending his arm around Taehyung to massage his shoulder soothingly. He had left just as Jin had entered, striding from the room purposefully with a determined expression on his face, and the oldest had watched him walk down the corridor to his own studio in confusion.

Hoseok appeared from behind Jin and walked over to crouch beside the maknae, affectionately ruffling his hair and undoing the work he had done to position the pink material to his satisfaction. “What makes it funny, Kookie?”

Despite his mild annoyance at the disruption, he smiled a toothy grin up at the dancer and pulled at the two sides of the bow so they stood almost vertically from the top of his head. “Just look at it,” he raised his hands to frame them around his latest adjustment to emphasise his words. Hoseok clearly remained unconvinced but returned the grin anyway, straightening up and walking back out of the room to get his make up fixed before the broadcast began, grabbing one of the remaining four headbands from the small box Jimin had placed on a chair by the door on his arrival.

Jin still stood at the door, placing his hands at his hips and eyeing Jungkook suspiciously. “Ya, Jungkook-ah, you never agree with Jimin’s ideas. What’s going on? What are you up to, both of you? Is it a prank? A hidden camera?” With each question he strode further in to the room, and the intonation of his voice rose until it was almost manic. He came to a halt beside Jungkook in front if the mirror and haphazardly dragged the head over his thick black hair and examined his reflection. “It’s ruining my handsome face, ah!” He joked loudly as one side of the band lay heavily over one eye, forcing it shut.

There was a weird energy in the room and Jin was doing his best to remedy it, and as always he was ecstatic to find Jungkook laughing fondly at him. He laughed even harder as Jin removed the band from his head and stepped in to it, one foot at a time, and pulled it up so that it was somehow encircling his waist, and began to dance around the room in an effort to catch Taehyung’s attention with the intention of perhaps making him laugh too. He had been so dejected since their arrival home all those weeks ago and – while the second youngest had seemed much quieter in general that year – it still worried him and the other members, but as the oldest, Jin felt a large amount of responsibility for all of them, especially the three youngest.

Having finished in the make up room, Hoseok returned to the mirror to attempt to display the towelling monstrosity in a vaguely flattering way. He turned to Yoongi, who had been sat silently on the floor the entire time they had been in the dance studio with the bow already perched atop his bleached hair, and huffed out a sigh. “You are okay with this, hyung?”

Yoongi looked up as though noticing there were other people in the room for the first time, lowering his phone in to his lap. “It’s something to do with Taehyung and his girl,” he said nonchalantly, but such was the quiet in the room as Jin had chosen that moment to cease leaping around it, that the sound of his voice travelled across the studio. “Just wear it.” The five other members turned to stare at him in astonishment, and he retrieved his phone from between his crossed legs unperturbed. “What? I thought everyone knew. We’ve been doing such weird stuff these past couple of months.” He shrugged and carried on watching music videos on his phone.

It took a few moments for the members to unfreeze, almost as though when Yoongi has pressed play on his media player it had affected the members too. The three youngest exchanged worried glances and Hoseok continued to stare mutely at his fellow rapper.

The eldest stood dumbly as the cogs whirred around in his mind. The penny dropping was almost audible and if the room had been dark Jin would swear the others would have seen the lightbulb ping on above his head. “Jimin-ah,” he called out accusatorily across the room. “Is that why you asked me to learn to play that song?”

~~~

With the wind at your back and the strange sense of closure you felt following your encounter with Mark and Jess at the cafe, your steps felt swifter and a little lighter as you made your way back to the bar with your precious cargo.

You missed Taehyung. There was no denying it. You supposed a part of you would always miss Taehyung and mourn what could have been had circumstances been entirely different on all fronts. Having said that, had the situation been entirely altered, you imagined there would have been absolutely no reason for him to come to your part of the world. Either way it remained wholly pointless to speculate on what could have been, even if it was a perfectly wonderful way of spending your time when it didn’t feel like a million pins pricking at your heart.

If Mark was able to pull himself from his funk and get back out there, then so could you. Not that you had any intention to start trying to date again, but thinking back on the state you last found Mark in three months ago, the improvement was jarring and caused the tiniest spark of optimism in you. Mark had four entire years to move on from, surely getting over three days would be an absolute breeze in comparison...right?

You arrived back at the bar and pushed the door ajar with your shoulder as you cradled the sandwiches. Walking over to the bar, you handed Ronnie the sandwich containing only bacon and took in the strange expression on his face. He looked to be on the verge of laughter but desperately trying to hold it in, his face reddening from the effort.

“Ronnie, what on earth is going on? Is everything alright, you look...” You weren’t sure how you should finish the sentence. In all honesty he looked constipated.

A weird squeak escaped him as he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N, I know you’ve had a rough few weeks, but...” he clasped his hands together in barely-concealed delight, his face stretched in to a smile so broad it was hurting your cheeks just looking at him. “There’s someone here who might just make you feel a little bit better.”

Your entire body froze, even your heart felt as if it had stopped. It couldn’t be, could it? You stared unblinking at the door Ronnie was gesturing flamboyantly at as though he were a magician at a child’s birthday party, your breathing coming in short, sharp gasps and you felt light-headed from the lack of oxygen reaching your brain.

“Are you ready?” he asked excitedly, his voice booming, though you may as well have been under water given the way his question sounded to your ears.

Your voice was barely a whisper as Ronnie stretched out his hand to wrap it around the doorknob, drawing out the tension unintentionally cruelly and indulgently. “Yes.”

“Ta-da!” he announced and pulled open the door with a flourish.

“Y/N!” Your best friend since practically birth screeched joyfully as she ran towards you with open arms, and you embraced her tightly and gratefully, not fully realising just how much you had missed her smile, her laugh, and – especially at that particular moment in time – her hugs.

“Oh my god, Hannah! I can’t believe it! I am so happy you’re here!” You declared sincerely as you pulled her tighter in to the hug.

You felt completely ashamed at the split-second of disappointment that had swept through you momentarily as you realised it was not Taehyung standing on the other side of the door. It was then that you knew for sure that trying to move on from him was going to be even harder than you had initially thought.

A/N Chapter 19 will be out same time next week! Only 4 more chapters to go! Thank you again for reading you sweethearts xxx

#bts v #bts fanfic #bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fluff #bts kim taehyung #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #bts imagines #taehyung scenarios #bts taehyung #kim taehyung #taehyung #v x reader #taehyung x reader #bts v fanfic #bts angst #taehyung angst

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evielynfic · 7 years ago

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Restraint

PART ONE OF THE “RE” SERIES RATING: MA FANDOM(S): Teen Wolf PAIRING(S): Derek Hale/OC SUMMARY: Derek has been bitten by an unknown supernatural, so the pack has no choice but to lock him up in case the venom from the bite has adverse effects on him. Sophie stays with her best friend to keep an eye on him and keep him company. Sophie just thought her Friday night was going to be boring.

A/N: Hey, guys! Here is my latest story featuring Derek Hale. This is an idea I had one day that I couldn’t help but write. While the creature is not identified yet, you may be able to guess what it is. With that said, I’ve added my own twist to the creature, so it definitely has added traits to it to fit the plot more. Due to the nature of the plot, this story is definitely on the mature side.

While there is an original character, this can be read as an imagine. That was my idea when I initially started writing it, but I prefer to write in third person. I didn’t delve into Sophie’s character too deeply, so you can imagine her how you want to. I imagined her as being played by Nora Arnezeder if you would like a visual. Her age isn’t mentioned, but she’s a year or two younger than Derek. It’s set about a year after Season 3A, but Derek is still an Alpha.

Please excuse any errors because I’m sure there are plenty and this was not beta’d.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf, nor any of the characters. All characters belong to Jeff Davis, except for Sophie, who belongs to me. This story contains mature and sexual content/situations, so read at your own risk.

Warnings: Dominant!Alpha Derek, lots of smut, and swearing.

Restraint

"Come on, Soph."

Sophie tuned out the pleading voice behind her, keeping her focus on the textbook on the table in front of her and the pencil in her hand. She had been sitting there in the same spot for nearly three hours, trying to complete her homework while she had nothing better to do except ignore the man in the room with her.

She had not intended to spend her night holed up in an abandoned building in the creepiest part of town, but Sophie had been convinced to watch a sour werewolf who had been bitten by a supernatural creature that remained a mystery. The bite had been quick, but was deep on his forearm and had grimy blackish-green liquid dribbling out of the wound. Sophie tried her best to block out the image of the creature attacking her best friend. It had taken off before Derek could even think about retaliating.

The bite wound had healed like any other injury, but Deaton had suggested to keep the younger Hale confined until they could figure out what had bitten him. What hadn't surprised Sophie was that Derek had readily agreed to go into the cell, lest he attack anyone if the bite or venom did have any ill effects. Hours had passed, and it seemed even Derek had limits on patience.

"Please let me out, Sophie. I have no symptoms, and it's been hours," Derek tried to reason as he leaned on the bars of the steel cell he had been locked in, a straining noise sounding from his weight.

Sophie turned her head toward the Alpha for the first time in a few hours, her eyes studying him to make sure he wasn't lying. She could see the sweat glistening on his skin and various spots on the tank top he wore, but she had also been sweating a bit from the poor ventilation in the building. Derek didn't seem any different to her, and she was one of the few people who had been allowed to see Derek past his tough exterior and thick walls to know if he was actually affected or not.

She sighed and set her pencil down on her notebook, slowly turning around on the chair that she had found just as the gang left her and Derek in the building. She remembered Scott's words playing in her head as he had taken her aside and talked her into staying with Derek.

"You're the one he's closest to. If something were to happen, he most likely won't hurt you. He also saved your life—again."

Sophie had agreed after hearing the younger Alpha's words, not that she had needed a lot of convincing in the first place. If Derek did attack her, she would be defenseless against him as a measly human, despite the fact that he had taught her to defend herself even after turning down his offer to receive the bite. While the rest of the pack were some of her closest friends, Derek had become like the older brother she had never had over the past couple of years.

After Derek lost Boyd and Erica and was betrayed by Jennifer in the most despicable way over a year ago, she could always sense the loneliness and guilt that Derek carried with him, even though he hid it well. With Cora and Isaac out of the country and Peter doing his own thing, she had stayed close to Derek, never giving up on him no matter how many times he had tried pushing her away.

Sophie also knew that had she not been out in the woods in the dark by herself, they wouldn't be in the situation they were at that moment. She was just waiting for Derek to point that out to her.

"You know, just because you seem like Derek doesn't mean I'm going to let you out," Sophie replied finally. "Deaton warned me not to open the door until they came back with something substantial or called to let me know it was fine."

"Well, at least stop ignoring me. Do I look like someone who would hurt you? I didn't ask to get bitten by some unknown entity." Derek raised his brows. "Besides, if I really wanted to get out of here, don't you think I could without much effort and would have already?"

His arms were threaded through the bars, his weight heavy against the door as he leaned almost lazily against it. She didn’t doubt that he could easily break out of the cell if he really so desired. Deaton had claimed it was made of reinforced steel, but it looked like it had seen better days with rust covering nearly every inch of it.

The building they were in was off by itself on the edge of town, and she didn't bother asking what they had done there before its demise. She had wondered how Deaton had known about the place before pushing the question out of her thoughts. Although it looked every bit like a dirty, abandoned building with dust covering nearly every inch from disuse, it had a fully functioning bathroom and shower that looked less grimy than the rest of it.

Sophie blew out a breath and stood up off the chair. "Fine," she relented as she closed the short distance between them and stood at the cell door. She mirrored his stance, leaning opposite him on the steel door only a few feet away from where he stood. "How are you feeling, really?"

"I told you, I feel fine," Derek reassured her, his green eyes meeting her blue ones.

"To be honest, I turned my back to you because I hate seeing you locked up like this," Sophie admitted, lowering her eyes to the grungy concrete floor.

"It's not the first time, and won't be the last, I'm sure," he replied, watching her. "How are you doing?"

Sophie met his gaze again, not at all surprised that he would be worried about her well-being. "I'm good," she answered with a small smile. "Thanks to you."

"Why were you even out, anyway?" Derek asked curiously. "I know that you're a night owl, but you should know better than to be out alone at night in this town."

Sophie sighed. "I know, it was stupid. I just needed to clear my head after he had called, so I went for a run. I didn’t want to bother anyone."

Derek sensed her frustration and sadness, anger coursing through his body at the thought of her ex contacting her. "What did the douche want this time?"

"He wanted to meet up this weekend. His excuse was that he hadn't seen me in months, and we needed to catch up," Sophie explained, staring at the wall a few feet in front of her at the back of the cell.

"Tell me that you didn't agree to it," Derek returned through gritted teeth.

"Hell no," Sophie retorted. "Ben only wants one thing—he always has. He's probably between girls and thinks he can use me as his booty call."

"You deserve so much more than that piece of shit," Derek responded, digging his nails into his palms to try to stifle his anger.

"I know," Sophie responded, glancing in his direction before looking back down at the floor.

"You should have called sooner. It could have been you in this cell instead of me," he admitted finally, moving closer to her so that their arms were touching. "I would have gone out with you. You never have to worry about bothering me."

"I know, I should have, Der. I wasn't thinking. He makes me so crazy because he knows exactly what to say to draw me back in, even if it's just a for a fleeting moment. And then, I hate myself for even considering it."

"Don't let him get to you," Derek replied, taking her hand in his and squeezing it in a comforting gesture. "Please don’t hate yourself. Trust me, it won't do you any good."

Sophie smiled, squeezing Derek's hand in return.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Sophie checked her phone to see if she had received any texts from the gang. She wasn't completely surprised that she hadn't since they had virtually nothing to go on except the small sample of venom that Deaton had gotten from Derek’s arm after the bite had healed.

"Are you hungry?" Sophie asked, mulling over the few options they had to choose from in town. "I mean, it's nearly midnight, but I can go pick something up if you want."

"I could eat, but there aren't going to be many options at this hour," Derek pointed out.

"I can text Scott to see if his mom can make something and have it brought over," Sophie suggested, pulling up her friend on her phone. "I think she's off tonight."

"If you think she'll do that, go ahead," Derek responded, shifting against the door.

It was about forty-five minutes later when Sophie received another text from Scott to let her know that they were outside with the food.

"Stiles and Scott are outside," Sophie informed her temporary roommate. "I'm going to go run out and grab the food since a bad storm is heading this way. They're not afraid to face all kinds of deadly creatures, but God forbid they get caught in a thunderstorm." She couldn't help but smile at the dramatic eye roll she received from her friend.

She placed her phone on the table beside her things before beginning to make her way out of the building. She wasn't completely lying about the storm since there was one headed their way, but she had wanted to speak with the two boys to see if there were any updates. Sophie knew Derek would most likely overhear them if he wanted to, anyway.

"Okay, I'll just wait here," Derek responded dryly as he watched her retreating figure disappear through the door.

Sophie jogged out to the jeep that held two of her friends as they rolled down the passenger side window. Scott held out a large brown paper bag to her before handing her another larger duffle bag that she placed on her shoulder.

"Thanks for coming, guys," Sophie said as she leaned against the metal door of the powder blue Jeep. "And for getting all this."

"No problem. How's he holding up?" Scott asked curiously, his brows knitting together.

"He seems like himself," Sophie answered honestly.

"Oh, nice and grumpy, huh?" Stiles chimed in with a side smirk.

She shook her head, ignoring the jab. "If the venom has adverse symptoms, he's not showing any. I don't get why we have to keep him locked up."

"Deaton said the signs could take a while, depending on the type of venom. I called him on the way over, and he's still running tests on the sample," Scott responded, a frown etched on his face. "I don't like keeping him locked up, either, but until we know for sure, Derek needs to stay here."

Sophie nodded with a sigh. "I know, I'll just keep playing babysitter," she joked, but her smile didn't reach her eyes. "I'm just a junior in college who has nothing better to do on a Friday night." Her voice was thickly laced with sarcasm, but it was well known that sarcasm was one of her coping mechanisms.

"Hey, we know it's not easy for you to see him like this," Scott commented with sympathy in his brown eyes. "We also know you're blaming yourself."

"Yeah, we know how much you care about him," Stiles added in a quiet voice with a similar look, his features more serious than before.

Sophie met both of their knowing glances, but didn't respond. When a clap of thunder sounded in the distance, she pushed herself off the door before beginning to walk backwards a few steps. "Thanks again for bringing us food and other necessities."

"No problem," they replied in unison.

Sophie gave them a small smile, turning to head back into the building before the storm hit.

"Hey, Soph," Scott called out to her.

She stopped and turned around toward them once again. "Yeah?"

"Be careful and contact us immediately if anything changes."

"Will do," she responded before jogging back into the building as the thunder sounded again, much louder than before.

After she had gotten a few feet into the building, the sky seemed to open up and released a heavy downpour. She glanced up at the roof as she continued further into the building, thankful that it seemed to be without any significant holes. As she entered the interior room where Derek was being kept, she adjusted the duffle bag on her shoulder to keep it from slipping and peeked into the paper bag to see what food they had.

"Oh, sweet, Melissa gave us some lasagna. It is to die for," Sophie began as she set the food down on one side of the chair. She also set the duffle bag down on the chair and began to rifle through it. "They also grabbed some clothes and toiletries for us, just in case. The most important of those things—toilet paper."

Digging through the bag, she saw some of her own clothes along with some of Derek's, two toothbrushes, a tube of toothpaste, deodorant, soap, shampoo, two towels, and the aforementioned rolls of toilet paper. After digging some more to see if there was anything else in the bag, she found a box, her eyebrow raising in confusion. She pulled the box out of the bag enough, noticing the note stuck to it written in familiar handwriting.

It never hurts to be prepared!

She removed the note so that she could read the label of the box before she quickly dropped it back in the bag, like the offending thing had burned her. Magnum condoms, she thought to herself. I am going to kill them.

"Hey, Derek, are you still with me?" Sophie asked, hoping the blush on her face and the catch in her throat weren't obvious.

Glancing up finally toward the cell after not hearing a word from the younger Hale, Sophie froze at what she saw. The cell door was bent into an indecipherable shape that looked more like origami than a door as the object hung loosely on its hinges. The small cell was empty, which both worried and frightened her a bit. Her eyes quickly darted around the room for the Alpha as she began to reach for her phone that she had left on the table.

"Der?" She called out tentatively, trying to steady her voice.

She felt a wave of great unease run through her the longer he went without answering and when she realized her phone was gone, quickly shuffling through her messenger bag that she had set on the floor by the table. She didn't know what was going on, but whatever it was, it was not good.

"Looking for something?" A smooth, deep voice rang out from a shadowed corner of the room.

Sophie froze once again, realization dawning on her that Derek had taken her phone. She swallowed before standing to her feet, turning to face the corner where the voice originated from as she noticed glowing red eyes staring back at her. As he stepped forward out of the darkness into the faint light that was in the room, he held up the device she had been searching for in his hand before crushing it effortlessly.

She watched as he let the remains fall out of his hand onto the floor. Sophie then noticed that he was still inching toward her, as if stalking his prey. Whatever was going on had to be from the venom in his system. She normally wouldn’t be afraid of Derek, even when he was a fully transformed, but the Derek in front of her sent a chill down her spine. He wore an almost sinister look as his lips curled into a smirk that reminded her a lot of Peter, only worse.

She hadn't realized she had been backing away from him, inching slowly closer to the door to the room until her back hit a wall. It was soon clear that she would never make it to that door.

"Why are you so scared, Soph?" Derek asked, sensing her fear mounting as he neared her. "It's your best friend, Derek." Even his voice sounded off, a hint of devilish intent with a captivating edge to it.

"I'm not," she insisted, knowing it was a lie they both saw through.

When he suddenly closed the distance between them, she let out a gasp as he blocked her in against the wall, each arm caging her in place on either side. His eyes were all but daring her to try to run as they remained their brilliant red color.

"I know you're not going to hurt me, Derek," Sophie remarked confidently.

"You sound so sure of that," he responded, dipping his lips against her ear.

His voice sent a shiver down her spine as his hot breath fanned her face. She swallowed to try to re-wet her dry throat before she placed her hands on the hard planes of his chest to move him away from her. Even though she was using all of her strength, she soon gave up since it was like trying to move a mountain. She hadn't moved him an inch, and her efforts seemed to spur him on further as he moved closer.

"You don't really want me to move, do you?" Derek asked, his voice husky in her ear. "I can tell you don't; you like having me close. In fact, I think you like it a lot."

"Derek, please don't," she pleaded, knowing he could usually read her like an open book when she let him.

Sophie had always been afraid that he would figure out what she felt for him by her smell and feelings, so she tried her best to stay as guarded around him as possible. Scott had easily picked up on it months ago, but Derek had never even alluded to knowing her secret.

"Don't what?" He asked as if he was oblivious. He ran his nose down her neck, breathing in her scent and chemosignals that radiated off her skin.

"This isn't you, Der," Sophie tried reasoning, meeting his blazing eyes.

"Oh, but is it, sweetheart," he responded in a sickly-sweet voice. "I'm the Alpha. I make the decisions here." He further emphasized his point by molding his body to hers, allowing her to feel every hard inch of him.

"I'm not your Beta, Derek," she commented, trying to sound confident, but her voice was betraying her.

"I can easily fix that," he challenged, running his fanged teeth over her pulse point.

When Derek ran a hand over her cheek and trailed it down her neck slowly but surely, leaving her skin scorching, she couldn't help the whimper that fell from her lips. His smirk should have frightened her to the bone, but it didn't.

"What do you want?" She found herself asking before she had even realized it.

"I think you already know the answer to that," he replied in a softer voice with the seductive edge still present as he ran his hands down her sides slowly. "Don't you feel it?"

Part of her thought Derek was referring to the hard bulge straining in his jeans against her lower abdomen, but then the other part knew better. Sophie knew he was referring to the electricity hanging in the air between them. She didn't know how, but she did feel something. A familiar pull was urging her forward, the one she had felt drawing her to him since they had met.

She closed her eyes then, chewing on her bottom lip as he continued to brush his lips and elongated teeth over her skin. Sophie tried to keep her body from reacting to his closeness and touch, but it wasn't working very well.

"This is the venom in your system," Sophie stated finally, her voice nearly gone. "It's making you do this."

“The venom may be fueling what's already there, but my actions are definitely my own," Derek insisted, his hands trailing back up her sides.

"What do you mean?" She asked, opening her eyes and meeting his bright red ones.

Derek remained quiet for a moment before running his tongue languidly over his lips and teeth as he raked his eyes over her trembling body before him. One might think that it stemmed from fear, but he sensed that that had been overcome by the desire that hung heavy in the air.

"Isn't it obvious, or do you need a not-so-little hint?"

When she didn't answer immediately, he bucked his hips against hers in quick succession, eliciting a moan from her at the action as his meaning hit her like a ton of bricks. Sophie couldn't stop the pull in her lower belly if she wanted to then, not that she even had the will or strength to stop the familiar feeling forming between her legs.

She noticed as he took in a deep breath, the resulting noise filling her ears as a deep, guttural growl sounded from deep within Derek's throat. It was like something had taken over him then, more than it already had, his features becoming even more feral than before as he eyed her hungrily.

When the claws on his thumbs flicked over her breasts, the sharp, jagged edges easily finding her already pert nipples through her thin shirt and bra, Sophie couldn't help the loud moan that came out of her mouth. The act caused her to arch her back towards him and sent shockwaves straight to her already dampening core. She moaned his name then when he repeated the action once more, causing him to react even more as he tore her shirt and bra, pulling the ruined fabric from her body.

She gripped his tank top as he began hungrily kissing and nipping down her neck, his hips digging into hers and his hands kneading, pinching, and squeezing her bare breasts as all sense and reason seeped further out of his mind. He soon discarded the shirt he wore, ripping it off his body as the need to feel her skin against his own heightened. He felt a shudder run down him as soon he felt the slight satisfaction at feeling her breasts pushed against his hard chest, but he soon wanted more.

"Fuck," Derek growled out.

Sophie writhed against him as she felt her high building, feeling a sense of calm envelope her as he wrapped his arms around her half-naked body. When his lips finally met hers in a searing kiss, she felt her knees nearly buckle from the amount of passion and want behind it. He must have felt her weakness because the next thing she knew, he had scooped her up into his strong arms, his hips grinding against her with a purpose.

"Derek," Sophie begged between kisses, her senses overwhelming her.

He took her pleading words to heart as he moved them away from the wall then, carrying her swiftly to the table in the middle of the room. Derek quickly and roughly shoved everything off the surface, sending her textbooks, papers that contained her notes, and pencil flying every which way onto the floor. He set her down on the surface, quickly fitting himself between her legs once again as he pulled her to the very edge of the table against him.

Sophie ran her hands down over the hard muscles of his back and chest as he reconnected their mouths, as if he hadn't just been kissing her into oblivion. She shuddered at the power emanating from underneath his skin as her hands trailed down to the waistband of jeans. She found herself becoming impatient as she made quick work of the button and zipper before pushing them down his legs to the floor. He quickly toed off his shoes and socks before kicking the offending item of clothing out of his way.

Derek broke their kiss then, eyeing her heavily with intent as he stood in just a pair of boxer briefs that did little to hide his arousal. He pulled off her sneakers and socks, tossing them behind him before he began to slowly undo her jeans. She leaned back on the dusty table, picking her butt up a bit to allow him to yank the fabric from her legs.

Sophie stared at him then as he stood in front of her before she began rubbing and gently squeezing the massive bulge in his underwear. He gave her an appreciative growl as he watched her intently before he needed the confining material gone and nearly ripped it from his body. Sophie stared even more than before, the size of him sending both apprehension through her body and more shockwaves to her center.

She had seen Derek shirtless plenty of times, but had never had the privilege of seeing him fully naked before. Sophie found that she wasn't surprised to find him so well endowed; he was an Alpha, after all. But even before he became an Alpha, she had had an idea at his size from her curious and inconspicuous glances at the bulge she often found in his jeans.

"See something you like," Derek remarked with a smirk, his deep voice full of seduction and pride.

Sophie noticed how he had phrased his words as a statement instead of a question, confidence dripping from his voice. She nodded her head to answer him anyway, almost as if the action had been instinctive. She didn't know when Derek's wolf had come so close to the surface, but she couldn't help but notice from the deep register of his voice. The sound of it made her even wetter than she already was. The only thing missing was the fur and wolf-like features on his face.

She somehow tore her eyes away from his magnificent form and met his heady gaze once again. As she did so, Sophie noticed as he slowly reclaimed his earlier position between her legs, instinctively spreading them to fit his massive form as he ran his hands over her thighs.

Sophie swallowed at his touch. She needed some of kind of relief, the ache continuing to grow between her legs the longer he stood there. She bit her lip, carefully running her hand over his length as he released a groan from her touch. She ran her fingers over the head, spreading the dripping fluid over him before she moved her hand away from him.

He looked at her with disappointment, clearly wanting her to continue. When she blatantly ran the same hand over her soaked panties teasingly, he couldn't help but take her up on her suggestion. Derek ran his fingers slowly over the seam of her panties between her core and thigh briefly before slipping a claw underneath and pulling the loose gray cotton fabric to one side.

Derek nearly lost it when he finally saw her dripping core bared to him. He had spent many a night fantasizing about her naked and writhing beneath him when he laid awake in bed. He slowly dipped a finger between her folds, running a slow stripe up as his claw ran gently over her clit. He couldn't help but smirk wickedly as his movements elicited a loud moan from her lips, and as she arched her body into him. He instantly felt his dick twitch and throb the more he thought about how she reacted to him.

When she felt the loss of contact as he pulled his hand from her core, Sophie watched him, biting her lip as she pleaded with him to put them both out of their misery. She leaned back then on her hands, scooting back on the table some more as she placed her feet up onto the wooden surface and reclined back so she was almost laying down, her look beckoning him. She didn’t care that she could feel the dust and dirt stick to her slick skin and hair.

Derek read her loud and clear and knew exactly what she wanted him to do as she stared at him with want. He lithely climbed onto the table that was just long enough for them. He wasn't quite sure it would hold both of them, but he didn't care as his mind focused on one thing. As he settled over top of her, his lips found hers once again in a passionate kiss. His teeth had probably nicked her skin in the frenzy, but he could sense that she was in no pain.

Sophie pulled him further down on top of her so there was no space between them before she boldly grabbed hold of his length in her hand and ran it over her soaked heat. At her action, he lost any sense of reasoning he had left and quickly buried himself inside her to the hilt. His claws dug into the table on either side of them at the feeling of her wrapped deliciously around his length finally, hugging him as if she had been made just for him.

"Shit," Sophie nearly screamed at the sudden intrusion. While she wasn't a virgin, she knew Derek's size was going to stretch her well beyond what she had been accustomed to previously.

Derek didn't wait but a few moments before he began his thrusts, instantly reaching depths that she hadn't even realized were possible. His movements were fast and rough, but not enough to send anything but immense pleasure soaring through her. If his continued growls were any indication, she knew his wolf had all but taken over him as he continued to plow into her.

He soon buried his face into her neck, the action causing her to bare it to him in quick submission. His lips, teeth, and tongue kissed, licked, and nipped at her neck, leaving bruises on her skin as if to show everyone that she was his. Sophie quickly decided she would let Derek do whatever he wanted to at that point, finding herself at his complete mercy as she ran her nails down the slick skin of his back that caused him to growl even louder.

"Who's your Alpha?" She heard him ask between nips on her skin.

"You are," she immediately replied as if by instinct, even though she wasn't a werewolf.

"That's right, you're mine," he stated, his wolf's voice wrecked as he continued his movements.

Sophie writhed beneath him, realizing she had been matching his movements for some time. As Derek began to get rougher with his thrusts as his release neared, the table soon began to creak underneath the weight and movement. Sophie soon felt the immediate loss of contact when he slipped out of her before barreling back in, repeating the process over and over.

She felt her release climbing the more he did that, but when Derek began to massage her throbbing clit, Sophie soon found herself coming undone from the added pressure on her sensitive bud. She held in a scream as he quickened his thrusts to help her ride out her orgasm, slapping of skin and the creak of the table beneath them filling her ears.

A few moments later, the table gave way beneath them, sending them to the floor. Derek didn't even falter one bit as he continued to pound into her relentlessly with wood splintered around them. He picked up her hips a bit, changing the angle to allow himself to go deeper into her, the action spurring yet another build-up in her lower abdomen. His assault on her clit hadn't stopped, despite her falling over the edge, but his intentions were obvious that he wanted to drive her to another orgasm.

Sophie kissed him hungrily, threading her fingers through his hair and tugging as the other gripped his shoulder. He must have liked her actions because Derek continued on, biting her bottom lip and tugging on it gently with his teeth. She felt his claws digging into the skin of her lower back as he held her up some in his hands, but it wasn’t enough to be painful.

She knew they were both close as she felt her walls closing around him again and his thrusts became erratic and desperate, urging them both to let go. The grunts Derek released with each movement was a telltale sign that sent shivers down her spine. He soon began to stare into her eyes, his red ones glowing brightly in the dimly lit room.

Sophie bit her lip as she neared the edge once more, feeling him expertly thumbing her clit with almost too much pressure. After a few more rough but slow thrusts, Derek began to empty his load into her, which in turn sent her over flying over the edge after him. She couldn’t help but squeeze her eyes shut at the feeling, a strangled scream leaving her lips.

"Look at me," Derek commanded as he thrust into her a few more times without the precision he previously had.

Sophie couldn't help but open her eyes and fix her stare into the brilliant ones staring back at her as they rode out their orgasms. His body soon relaxed, catching himself on his elbows so not to crush her before pulling out of her and shifting them so he laid beside her.

"Holy shit," Sophie muttered after several minutes, breaking the silence in the room.

Derek chuckled darkly at that, eyeing her with a proud smirk on his lips. She turned over to face him as he drew her closer, noting that his werewolf features were still visible. He kissed her fully but languidly then, which she eagerly returned, as he wrapped his arm around her.

They laid there for nearly twenty minutes in silence, basking in the afterglow of what just occurred between them. Sophie placed a soft kiss on his chest as he began to run his fingers through her soft blonde locks, trying to keep from getting his claws tangled in her hair.

"I don't think we're done," Derek commented suddenly, feeling another wave of lust and need hit him like a bulldozer. He eyed her before swallowing.

"What?" Sophie asked curiously.

Before she knew it, Derek was on top of her again, his lips meeting hers heatedly. Sophie could feel his erection against her core as he fitted himself between her legs, almost as if he hadn't just had an orgasm several minutes before. That time around, he seemed more desperate and his movements were much more fervent than the first time.

After kissing her for a few moments and stimulating her by massaging her clit, he slid into her once again, groaning in pleasure as if he had just found his way home after being lost for days. He quickly turned them over so she was on top of him, but Derek soon began thrusting into her and moving her so Sophie met his thrusts. It didn't take long for her to catch up as Sophie finally registered what was happening, continuing their exploits as the night went on.

After three more rounds, Sophie was exhausted and could barely move. The adrenaline from the past several hours running through her body had to be the only reason she was even conscious. Derek had finally passed out shortly after their last round several minutes before, his own exhaustion taking over his body. Derek's werewolf features were still on display, signaling that his wolf was still very close to the surface, but he looked peaceful while he slept. Sophie didn't know how much longer it would be before he would wake up, raring to go for round five.

As she laid there, staring at the ceiling, Sophie suddenly remembered Derek had brought his phone with him. She needed to let Deaton know about Derek's symptoms; they were clearly not subsiding anytime soon. She slowly slid out of his grasp with a groan as her body protested her movements, searching for his jeans that he had tossed aside on the floor hours earlier. She had no idea what time it was, either.

When she located Derek's jeans, Sophie searched in both pockets for the device. After locating it, she unlocked the phone, noting it was three in the morning. She started to call Scott, but decided a text would be better and would make less noise as she sat on the floor by the chair. She turned the phone on silent before sending a text to Scott to simply let him know she needed his help.

Her next text was to Deaton, letting him know all of Derek's symptoms that had started hours ago out of nowhere and showed no signs of letting up, save for the break she was getting at that moment. Before Sophie could finish listing out all the details, blushing as she typed them, Scott responded to let her know that he was on his way. She finished and sent her text to Deaton before telling Scott to bring reinforcements.

Derek hadn't hurt her except for some minor bruising and scratches during their rendezvous, but none of them were substantial wounds. She was definitely sore in more than one place, but that was to be expected. It was a miracle that Derek hadn't bitten her in his current state, but she sensed that he had come close a couple of times.

While she wasn't afraid of the Alpha werewolf lying a few feet away from her, Sophie didn't know if lust and intense arousal were the only symptoms he would experience from the venom coursing through his veins. Her fear was that Derek would become hostile when Scott arrived, especially if Scott tried removing her.

She just hoped Scott came with a plan.

It soon became a waiting game for her. Sophie didn't know if Scott and his backup would make it before Derek woke up, but all she could do was sit there and wait. She watched as the Alpha slept in a heap on the floor, covered in dirt and body fluids that she knew covered her body as well. She tried to ignore the cool air that was lingering in the building since her body was still overheated, knowing as soon as her body calmed down the effects of the cold would hit her.

While she didn't mind the attention that Derek was giving her—a dark, twisted part of her loved it, in fact—Sophie knew that she shouldn’t get used to it. She had always wanted to know what being with Derek was like, but she wanted it when Derek wasn't under the influence of some powerful supernatural venom. She didn't even know if any of it was real, or if it stemmed from her being the only one there with him.

The longer she sat there, the more Sophie tried not to think about how many times she and Derek had had sex — not just sex, but unprotected sex. While Sophie had just remembered the condoms that they had been given as a joke that still sat in the bag, she hadn't even thought about them once in the heat of the many moments they had shared. Not that it would have mattered either way, because she knew Derek wouldn't have been able to stop long enough in his frenetic state to even think about putting one on. She would definitely have to make a stop by the drug store later.

She grabbed the bag of food from off the chair, her stomach reminding her that it needed nourishment in the worst kind of way. Opening the bag, Sophie pulled out the container of lasagna, one of the plastic forks, and a bottle of water. She didn't know how much she would be able to eat, but she would at least eat some while she waited. The lasagna was cold as she chewed on it, but it was still good nonetheless.

Part of her wondered why she hadn't just run as soon as Derek had fallen asleep, but she couldn’t just leave her best friend there in his current state. Sophie hadn't left him once when he needed her, even when he claimed he didn't, and she wasn't about to start then. Sophie knew his actions were due to something beyond his control, regardless of whether he wanted to perform them or not.

As she finished a couple more bites of food, washing them down with some water, Sophie heard a groaning from on the floor. She halted her movements, her eyes flitting over to where Derek still lay a few feet away from her. When she saw him begin to move, she quickly placed the cap on her water bottle and replaced the lid back on the container of food. She stood up slowly before setting the water and food on the chair, turning to watch Derek like a hawk.

"Soph?" Derek called out finally in a raspy voice as he began to search the room for her. She noticed a hint of panic in his voice.

"I'm still here," she replied back hesitantly, keeping her distance.

His eyes met hers finally as he located her, their red hue still present as he blinked a few times to regain his focus. He stood up off the floor swiftly, stretching his tired muscles with several resounding cracks. Derek had noticed instantly that Sophie stood rooted to her spot, uncertainty flowing off her as she surveyed him intensely before she lowered her gaze.

"Are you hungry?" Sophie asked, looking away from him, crossing her arms over her bare chest as she felt his eyes scrutinizing her. "There's still some food left if you want it."

When he didn't answer, Sophie chewed on her bottom lip and met his gaze once again. She heard a low growl then as Derek appeared in front of her in a flash, his lips and teeth connecting to hers as he pulled her to him. His hands were all over her, yanking her back into the euphoric state she had been in each time, erasing the doubts in her mind. When he picked her up effortlessly and began to inch the tip of him into her entrance, she tried delaying him a moment so she could catch up.

Sophie said his name a couple of times, her voice nearly wrecked all over again, but her words didn’t seem to be registering. “Alpha,” she called out in a voice that she knew sounded desperate.

That one name falling from her lips must have gotten through to him because he halted his movements and looked at her. His gaze stared at her hungrily, but she continued. “I need you to touch me.”

His stare remained as he took in her words, as if trying to decipher their meaning.

She moved his hands before dropping to her feet, making sure to stay close so he didn’t think she was resisting. Sophie then took hold of his hand, leading them to a vacant spot on the floor. She sat down in front of him, tugging gently on his arm. As he took the hint and joined her, Derek’s mouth was on hers once again as he lowered them both down onto the dirty floor.

Sophie broke the kiss before Derek got too caught up, bringing his hand between them and placing it on her core. “Please, touch me, Alpha.” She looked into his red eyes pleadingly.

Another low growl sounded from within Derek’s throat as he fulfilled her request, running his fingers over her overly sensitive clit with just the right amount of pressure.

Sophie moaned loudly as his fingers began to further reignite the sparks between her legs, creating the desired effect she needed. “Oh, yes, just like that.”

He soon stopped before kissing her once again, pulling her closer and spreading her legs further. “I need you now.” Sophie didn't miss the desperation in his voice.

She nearly cried out in pleasure as Derek buried himself inside her once again. She didn’t know how, but Derek felt even better than he had all night. She could already feel her high building, and he had barely begun.

“Oh, Alpha.” Sophie didn’t know why, but the name kept falling from her lips as if it was second nature.

Things seemed to slow down and speed up all at the same time as they continued. Sophie could feel the burning in her sore muscles, but she didn’t dare stop as she met his powerful thrusts. The pain barely fazed her when Derek ran his clawed fingers down her hips and thighs, leaving a trail of blood and scratches in their wake. Her fingers gripped his broad shoulders, digging her nails into his skin.

Sophie had since forgotten about everything running through her mind before as it continued to cloud with thoughts of everything Derek. Their groans and skin slapping were the only sounds echoing throughout the building. It wasn't long before Sophie felt her release coming much sooner than expected, her moans picking up as she began to feel her walls hugging Derek's throbbing member tighter by the second. She had learned his habits well enough to know that he wasn't far behind her. She kissed his lips before trailing hers over his salty skin, feeling the scruff on his neck tickle her lips.

"Alpha," Sophie slurred against his skin.

The name spurred him on, a growl leaving his mouth. Derek began to pick up speed, his movements becoming erratic much sooner than expected. Sophie began to feel her body trembling uncontrollably as she neared the edge.

"Who do you belong to?" Derek groaned against her neck, gripping her hips in a grip that was sure to leave more bruises and scratches as he continued his movements.

"You," Sophie responded almost instantly. "I belong to you and only you, Alpha."

A loud growl sounded from deep within his throat then. Sophie shuddered at the noise as she felt herself begin to let go. A moment later, an immense pain bloomed in her shoulder before it began to turn into the most amazing pleasure she had ever felt in her life.

Her vision went blurry, and Sophie dug her nails into his skin as her orgasm exploded then. Her body writhed at the feeling as a scream left her lips, filling the entire abandoned building and surrounding area. She barely felt it when Derek extracted his teeth from her skin several minutes later, cleaning the bite he had left by languidly lapping up the blood.

Before long, she began to regain her vision and focus, some of the feeling coming back into her body. She was still tingling and her brain was still on a high as she felt Derek pulling her to his solid body almost possessively. His movements continued, trying to find his own release, but she barely felt them. Sophie felt his lips on hers then, instinctively returning his kisses. She moaned into his mouth, her fingers tangled in his damp hair.

As she broke away for much needed air, Sophie shuddered as Derek kissed her shoulder softly. She opened her eyes to watch him, a small, content smile on her lips. She instantly froze when she noticed Stiles standing there in the doorway out of her peripheral vision, sending her straight back into reality. Stiles’ eyes were bugged out as he surveyed the scene before him, Derek still mid-thrust on top of her and the werewolf's focus completely on her.

"Stiles." The name fell from her lips before she could stop herself, feeling Derek tense up and halt his movements a moment later.

Sophie swallowed as she saw Derek's brilliant red eyes on her then, a questioning look in them. She knew the moment he realized they weren't alone, as his senses picked up a third body in the room and a low, defensive growl emanated from his throat. She then realized he had fully wolfed out for the first time that night.

"Derek, it's okay," Sophie whispered in a soothing voice, taking Derek's wolfish face in her hands to try to keep him calm and staring into his eyes. “He’s just here to help.”

Derek was off her and on his feet in a second, twisting around and standing in front of Sophie protectively. A snarl left his lips at the sight of Stiles, inching forward towards the frightened boy.

Sophie heard a couple of gunshots ring out then, just before Derek began to stagger a bit as he was hit with what looked like tranquilizer bullets. She tried her best to get to him, but she still could barely move. That’s when she saw Scott and Malia run into the room to keep Derek distracted. She also spotted Chris inching into the room with the gun still trained on Derek in case more bullets were needed. Stiles was at her side then, removing his hoodie to wrap around her naked body.

“Oh, Soph,” Stiles muttered, his eyes full of worry at the sight before him. “We should have gotten here sooner.”

“I’m fine, Stiles,” Sophie assured him, pulling her knees to herself to cover her exposed body.

“Did he hurt you?” He asked, wrapping the hoodie around her as much as possible.

“No, it wasn’t like that,” she assured him. “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It better not be.”

She heard a roar rip through the building as she saw Derek eyeing them, his focus no longer on Scott or Malia. He was moving slowly toward them, Scott and Malia barely able to hold him back, but the tranquilizers did little to stop him. Sophie watched in horror as Chris had no choice but to fire a few more bullets into Derek’s back. Sophie gasped and covered her mouth as Derek immediately fell to his knees, tears forming in her eyes as his pained eyes locked onto hers. A whine left his lips then as he fell to the ground, the tranquilizers finally taking effect.

“It’s not going to hurt him,” Stiles assured her. “Argent had to use a little diluted wolfsbane, but Derek will be fine.”

Sophie nodded as she watched an unconscious Derek being carried out by Scott and Malia. She instantly felt the need to go after them, but knew she couldn’t.

“Scott’s going to come back to get you. Let’s get you dressed, okay?” Stiles rubbed her hand comfortingly.

She nodded her head, sniffling and wiping her face while trying to avoid getting dirt in her eyes.

Stiles went to the bag he had brought them, grabbing a pair of Derek’s underwear and one of Derek’s shirts. He figured that it would be better for her to wear the oversized clothes instead of her own small ones.

Sophie was unable to focus much at all as Stiles helped her get dressed. She was barely paying attention as Scott jogged back into the room and gently scooped her up in his arms to carry her outside.

“I want to go with him,” she pleaded, an overwhelming need to be close to Derek coming over her.

“He’s going to be go okay, Soph. Deaton thinks he figured out what bit him,” Scott explained.

“We have to help him,” she responded vehemently.

“We’re going to help as much as we can,” Scott promised her.

“But we need to get you to the hospital, first,” Stiles chimed in.

“I told you that I’m fine,” she argued. “Let me help you.”

“You’re going to the hospital, Sophie. End of discussion,” Scott retorted. “You can see Derek after you’ve been checked out.”

She sighed and resigned that she wasn’t changing their minds as she was placed in Stiles’ Jeep with a blanket draped over her. All she could think about was Derek’s well-being on the ride to the hospital before her body finally gave into the exhaustion consuming her.

Don’t fret! There is a part two to wrap things up. Part two is still being written, but hopefully I’ll finish that soon!

Part 2 »

#story: restraint #derek hale #derek hale imagine #derek hale smut #derek hale fan #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf smut #teen wolf imagine

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geminimoonbeamx · 7 years ago

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Electric Feel: Part One

A/N: Alright you guys so last night I re-watched the movie ‘Savages’. You know, the one with Quicksilver and Serena Vander-Woodsen in it? Yeah, it totally rekindled my love for Polyamorous relationships and after reading a fuck ton of amazing Stucky one’s this site, I decided I just had to write my own. This is going to be a short series. Only five or so parts of fluff and smut. Smut with plot, but smut none the less lol. Enjoy ya’ll. Steve/OC/Bucky

CURRENTLY ON HOLD. WILL RECONTINUE IN 2018

Word Count: 3k+

Warnings: Heavy mentions Panic disorder, Anxiety, Depression and use of Prescription Drugs. Mental health/illness will be a heavy topic in this one so if it triggers you, I’m sorry my beautiful buttercups but this story might not be the one for you. Cussing because I have the worst mouth and my vocab is made up of four letter words.

Story Summary: Y/N, an overworked plus size model, is struggling to balance her career and her worsening panic disorder. Moving into Avengers Tower, at her Aunt Peppers request, was supposed to relieve some of the stress. She never expected to find solace in the arms of not one, but both of the Towers resident super soldiers

✨✨✨✨✨✨

Dragging yourself across the lobby of ‘Avengers Tower’ you feel absolutely numb. The static in your head seemed far away, like a station you just couldn’t tune into. Not that you wanted to. No, you’d take this reprieve, this moment of nothingness happily. At least you felt like you could breathe, like your lungs we’re actually working again, doing the simplest of tasks.

Jesus. How sad is that? That your actually happy you could breathe normally? The most natural thing a human could do, and yet even that seemed like a heralding task to you lately.

“Hello Ms. Y/N” The receptionist at the circular desk greeted as you passed and on queue you forced a smile on your face.

You’d gotten good at it by now, so good, that the woman didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary and went on with her work. Typing away at who knows what. It was nearly thirty minutes past 10. What could Tony have her working on so late? Whatever, you deduce. Whatever it was, you knew she was probably getting paid beautifully for it.

And wasn’t that the point of it all? What made the world go round?

Money is the reason we exist. Everybody knows it, it’s a fact. Kiss, kiss.

You recite to your self as you push your floor button on the elevator and lean back heavily on the rail. It’s only when the doors shut, leaving you in the solitary, boxed in space, that you let the smile fall off of your face, your cheeks felt relieved. The daily strain on your cheeks from holding that fake, plasticine smile sucked and as your face sagged you feel the most yourself.

“You have one major case of resting bitch face, kid” You remember Tony laughing at you years ago. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t heart a thousand times before. Your features we’re naturally…sharp. Moody. Your full lips instinctively pulled down at the corners unless you were either A)genuinely smiling or B) putting on that mask that you’d perfected.

In your line of work, resting bitch face was both a blessing and a curse. That pout of yours, yeah it had scored you a lot of high end jobs. Shooting for A-list magazines with renound photographers. Making you a bit of a “hot commodity” in the modeling world. But it had also earned you a reputation. Everyone had this image of you; thought you we’re extremely bitchy and stuck up. It was already hard, working in the modeling community. Plus size modeling was just starting to boom, to become a norm but even you didn’t fit some of the major guidelines. At well over two hundred pounds and barley reaching 5'3, you we’re an unusual peice for the industry in the first place.

Having everyone think you we’re a high maintenance, hard to work with cunt- well that didn’t help either.

They just didn’t know you, which you almost laughed at because isn’t that what everyone’s excuse is? ‘They don’t know me, I’m so misunderstood’.

Fuck, you we’re a walking cliché, you chide yourself.

Most who met you tended to think you we’re “stuck up” because a good chunk of the time you we’re so stuck in your own head that you couldn’t focus on anyone around you. Trying to breath, trying to focus on anything but the near constant bubble of nervousness that never seemed to leave your stomach. Running through your therapists guide list on how to avoid your next panic attack.

In truth, when most got to know you they were honestly shocked at your goofy, nerdy nature. Those few people, who tried to delve under the surface, we’re greeted with a girl who could make a joke out of just about anything and would rather stay in bed and binge on Star Wars movies and buffalo wings(well maybe no one would be surprised about that your love of chicken wings, you think humorously. Bitterly)

It hadn’t always been this bad, you recite to yourself. It would get better, you encourage.

When you get to your floor, all you want to do is go to sleep. The thought of having to have to drone through any other kind of human interaction physically made you wince.

Most of the time, you didn’t mind the floor you we’re on. Actually, you quite liked your “floor mates”. Yeah, it had been a little weird at first being “bunked” with all guys, but you’d soon found that you wouldn’t have wanted to be placed anywhere else. Steve, Sam and Bucky we’re good to you, yeah they babied you a little and left messes in the living room, but you had your own hoard of annoying tendencies and still, they never treated you like anything but…family.

Like the older brothers you never wanted- while simultaneously being the little brothers you had DEFINATLEY never fucking wanted because Jesus Christ, who had left the empty Oreo package in the middle of the floor? You bend down, almost robotically, to pick it up.

Steve and Bucky are lounging on opposite sides of the long couch, watching some sports show that you didn’t really care to know. You barley notice them, and you really hope that they’re not going to notice you. That they’re too invested in the game on the mammoth flat screen-

“Hey, babydoll. How was work?”

No dice. Not that you’d really thought for a second they we’re just going to ignore your entrance.

The smile, that smile, you plaster on is almost painful.

They both look up at you, Bucky’s head slightly cocked as he waits for an answer.

“It was fine, I’m really tired though. I’m going to change”

To anyone else your tone would have sounded pleasant. Tired, but normal.

To Steve, it’s a big red flag. Gone is the usual bite in your voice, the giggle. The light. You sound…monotone. Like you weren’t really there at all. And that’s what really makes him look at you, take you in. The bags under your eyes are pronounced, even with the makeup that adorns your skin. Your posture is rigid and you look like you might strain a muscle just from standing there but it’s your eyes that confirm it for him. He’d seen that look in them many a time before. He feels the tug on his heart strings as you hurry out of the room.

When Steve turns his head to Bucky, the mans eyes are still glued on your retreating frame. But the look on his face matches the one Steve knew he himself was sporting.

You’d had another hard one. Another attack. Being ‘roomies’ with you meant that they we’re no stranger to your illness, they’d experienced first hand what you went through on a near day to day bases. Hell, Bucky went through his fair share of his own. But it never ceased to put a felling akin to stones in their throats to see you in that state

“I want to go check on her, man” Bucky announces “She looked real rough”

Steve shook his head. They’d been through this. The trial and error of it all.

“Nah, pal. You know she’ll freak out if you go after her right now…let her go cool off” Steve reminds his friend. Didn’t he remember the last time…it hadn’t gone over well.

Bucky sighs through his nose and nurses the beer bottle in his hand. He knew what it was like, what she was going through and it made it worse, the thought of her feeling even a fraction of the strain that he himself frequently endured had him tied in knots. He felt like he had to get up, and go to her. And check on her and make sure that she was playing on her phone like she liked to do, laughing at some meme he knew she’d show him later and not curled up in a corner.

He still winces at that mental image. When he’d found her in the kitchens with her hands over her eyes and her knees pulled up to her chest.

“I’m worried about her, too” Steve’s voice cuts through the silence. He can see the cogs working in Bucky’s head.

Bucky nodded, chewing on the inside of his lip. Yeah, he knew.

Knew that they we’re both royally fucked.

And had been for a while now. Because nothing good could come from the way that they both felt about you. He’d never really thought about it before. Maybe, even though it was a little screwed up, it was because back in the forties he could run circles around Steve when it came to girls. Back then he’d never be in competition with the him. Plus Steve had always loved dark haired dames and Bucky had a thing for Redheads, so he never really thought there would be a day when they a single woman caught both pairs of their eyes.

And then came you. When Bucky had learned Pepper’s niece was coming to live at the compound he’d never in his wildest dreams could have imagined you. All ass and sass and bambi eyes. All understanding touches and long talks in the middle of the night when neither of you could sleep because your brains just wouldnt turn off. You seemed to understand him in a way that he didn’t even understand himself.

You’d snuck up on Bucky…

Steve was different. He’d met you a handful of times before you’d moved in. You were Peppers niece, after all, so you’d been around the tower. Never staying for long- just long enough to throw him that smile. To flip your sheet of hair over your shoulder and be the sweetest thing he’d ever encountered. You rotted his teeth. You brought out the side of him, the one that was foreign to everyone but Bucky.

You hadn’t snuck up on Steve. You’d hit him like a god damn freight train.

And it yet no one was willing to admit it, even though it was nearly palpable. The three of you went on, holding onto a friendship that seemed to keep all of you a float.

Because Bucky needed Steve. It wasn’t a fact he was ignorant to. He needed his best friend if he had any hope of ever truly getting back to the man he’d once been and Steve needed him back. The only link he had to his true self. To the man behind the shield.

So, they kept it unspoken. They didn’t even talk about it to each other, which if you knew Bucky and Steve you’d know was in-fucking-sane because those two told eachother EVERYTHING. Neither of them we’re willing to risk the century long friendship.

Hell no…

But did they really even have to say it? Steve witnessed the way you touched Bucky, your hands trailing over him in something liken to worship and Bucky noticed the way you sought out Steve. The way you needed him, the way you looked at him like he was the sun.

Funny thing? It didn’t make either of them jealous, there was no animosity. No hurt feelings just…need.

Need of what? Neither of them knew.

And so, almost simultaneously, they both tipped their beer bottles back heavily, the screen illuminating their faces. They could lie to themselves. But they never did get the hang of lying to each other.

You stand in the shower for what feels like ages, allowing the scorching water to rush over you. Trying to practice those visionary exercises you’d worked on in therapy. Letting all of the negativity swirl down the drain. When you exit the glass, walk in shower you feel a little better. When you go to your bedside table and pop one of the tiny, yellow pills in your mouth, that helps even more. You’d learned long ago to take your medicine. You would question taking Dayquil when you had a could, so why would you do that in this case?

You didn’t need to feel ashamed for having to use medicine. You repeated yourself that daily, still. It was such a stigma, you we’re still working through it.

You pull a pair of sliky pink pajama shorts up your curvy legs. They we’re your favorite ones, the little cactus’ print always made you smile and then threw on an oversized grey sweater, the one you’d had for years. The littering of holes on the bottom of the sleeves was just proof to your immense love for it. You then brushed through your mess of wet hair, getting out all of the snarls, working through the small kinks before you slathered on your face serum’s and body lotions.

You had to do this.

Because your job required you to take care of your appearance and because your therapist assured you that taking care of yourself even when you felt low was one of the keys to happiness. To getting through it…and you would get through it.

When your finish your nightly routine you stare at yourself in the vanity mirror for a minute or two or five.

You look like a fucking eleven year old without makeup. Your face child like without the sharp eye liner of defining bronzer. But there was a prettiness to you, your eyes seemed even (e/c)er. You shake out your hair, watching the still damp tendrils fall across your shoulder before slipping into a pair of slippers, feeling good enough to go and scower the fridge because your tummy was growling viciously and you knew it was a shit idea to let those pills kick in on an empty stomach.

Your not surprised to see Steve and Bucky still immersed in their game- or maybe it’s a different game because this one looks like hockey and you could have sworn the other was baseball.

“What'er you guys watching?” You inquire, just to start a conversation, as you walk across the living room.

Your voice is still worn out, but you look better. Like you always do after showering off the long day.

“The Rangers game. We’re gettin’ our asses handed to us” Bucky gruffs, taking a look-see at you. Your hairs long down your back, your swimming in that old sweater of yours and your face is bare. Just like he likes you best.

“Hey, have a little faith! We can still pull through” Steve urges and you giggle as you open the stainless steel fridge door.

“We got you an order of those perogi’s you like from Kinga’s” He tells you just as your eyes land on the white take out box and you thank whatever creation there might be for your boys.

“Mmm, thank you kindly sirs” You pop them in the microwave “Sam still on that mission?”

It been a week and you we’re starting to get a little worried. You knew him, Nat and Thor could more then handle themselves but you we’re starting to really miss his booming jokes. His dirty laundry basket in the hallway, not so much. You’d almost killed yourself on that thing in the middle of the night too many times.

“Yeah, don’t worry, he’ll be back on Friday. Unfortunately” Bucky hollers to you and you just roll your eyes and chuckle. Those two pretended to hate each other, but really you’d heard Bucky questioning the bird mans return this morning. No one brewed a pot of coffee like Sam.

When you come back to the living room, your hands full; the take out box in one and a glass of that green tea blend that you could never get either of them could drink because apparently it tasted like grass, it’s no shock that you plop down in the middle of them.

It would have been weirder if you had chosen to sit on one of the empty couches.

It was just normal for you now, your place between them and the comfortable conversation that ensues feels like home. You ask about how their day had gone, wanting to hear details from both about what they’d done for the duration of it. And then, they ask about yours.

To anyone else, even your Aunt Pepper, you probably would of lied. Would have told a wound a nice story about how the shoot had been so amazing. The team, the outfits. The set.

And that was true. Partially. But you don’t tell them the partial truth. You never do.

“I mean it was okay-” Bucky shoots you a knowing look and you sigh “The photographer was really intense. I mean he’s known for that, his crazy antics make for some kick-ass shots but that plus the lights that were set up was all just really…sucky”

You admit, quirking your mouth and swirling your tea. Steve reaches over, his big scorching palm coming to rest on your shoulder. The weight of it reassuring.

“I just feel- ugh fuck, you know? Like I cant go running away every time set gets a little loud or they shine a weird light in my eyes”

“But you didn’t run away right? You stayed and finished it” Steve’s voice is gentle- but not in that annoying clinical way. No, it’s easing the push, it’s encouraging not belittling.

“Yeah. After I had a minor breakdown in my changing room” that was an understatement, you recall the way you’d grasped at your chest. The way all the air in the room had seemingly gone out.

“Then? That’s an impressive feat all on it’s own, sugar” He continues on and you shake your head, poking at your perogi. Unable meeting either of their eyes.

“I’m just thinking maybe I’m not cut out for this anymore” It was so, so hard to admit that. To admit that maybe it was time to change your dreams, to let go of what you’d wanted for so.

Bucky’s chest aches for you, the empathy he feels in that moment is immense, he cant help but reach out. His hand going to you thigh, his thumb rubbing little circles into the smooth, plush skin as he talks.

“Why? Even when you felt awful you stayed put. Listen, doll, anyone who knows you knows how much you want this…I mean you we’re born for the camera, just look at that face- you roll your eyes and he chuckles- Not to mention if you don’t have a professional taking em’ your just going to sit in your room and take a thousand of those selfers anyway. Might as well get paid for your troubles ”

That makes you laugh hard and you tilt your head to him “Selfies, Bucky! God, you’re so old”

They have a way of doing this- making you feel better. Making it all melt away, even if it’s just for those moments when the three of you are huddled together. You dream of this shit, no joke. Of the feeling of both of their hands on you like they are now.

“You wound me, doll” Bucky melodramatically holds his chest leaning back into the couch, not moving his hand.

You continue eating, your stomach feeling more settled. You close your eyes and moan at the heaven sent explosion of favor.

“Mmm, Stevie, taste this” You urge as you stab one of the potato dumplings and hold it out to the lighter haired man, your hand underneath it incase it spilled over. Steve grins and opens his mouth wide and inviting as you pop the entire thing in.

“Amazing, right?”

“Uh, huh ‘real ‘ood” he says around the mouthful of food and you and Bucky both chuckle.

“Don’t hurt yourself there, punk” Bucky teases and Steve reaches across you to swat at his shoulder.

“Jerk”

Your more then used to them being hundred year old children “Alright boys let’s watch something that doesn’t make my brain bleed, yes?”

There’s a few moans and groans of protest, from the both of them, but in the end they do what they always do; give you what you want. You’re vaguely aware of your power over the two men and you deviously think how dangerous it is to have them at your beck and call. You end up making them watch ‘The Men in Black’ with you because “It’s a classic, oh my gosh I cant believe you guys have never seen this before” and of course you fall asleep twenty minutes in.

When people talk about anxiety attacks, they don’t ever mention how they physically drain the life out of you. The exhaustion that comes with them.

You end up sprawled out, your head resting on a pillow in Steve’s lap and your legs tangled with Bucky’s as he stretched out on the opposite side of you. Not an unusual positon for the three of you to contort into.

Steve plays with the near dry tendrils of your hair idly, he can feel your short, puff like breaths on his thigh. Bucky’s vibranium hand rests on your leg, where knee meets thigh, the warmth of your sweet smelling skin radiating off of you. It’s peace, the one sliver of peace it seems that you all will ever find.

“Steve” Bucky speaks first. He’s always been the bolder of the two. He’d known he was going to have to be the one to speak up sooner or later.

“Yeah?” Steve can hear it in his voice. Knows what’s coming.

“You love her” it’s not a question or an accusation. Just a statement.

“So do you” Is all Steve can think to retort and Bucky just sighs and nods wordlessly.

Will Smith fights aliens on the TV screen as they both acknowledge what they’d known wouldn’t stay unspoken.

“Ya’ know our lives would be a hellava lot easier if these guys really existed” Steve’s eyes narrow as he drinks in the film. Bucky’s snort fills the room. Aint that the truth.

There’s a moment of silence where they let the movie play, where your little wheezes and extraterrestrial battle sounds fill the living room.

“Your Agent K and I’m agent J” Bucky smirks, knowing his little comment is going to grate his best friend. Steve’s head snaps in his direction.

“That’s a load of crap, your older then me!”

“In years, yes. In spirit-”

“Fuck off, Bucky”

And even in your sleep state, you manage to be a smart ass. Because even though Steve cursed around you plenty, you’d grown up on those tapes of him that they played in school. And the cussing one had always stuck with you. “Language cap'n” you mother incoherently.

They both look like their eyes might pop out of their heads.

——————-

Okay guys I hope you liked this first part! I’m still trying to figure out the dynamic I want for the three of them, but I think I’ve got it. Please give me feed back, because I live on that shit. It’s the air I breathe. If you want to be tagged, let me know!😬💛

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnesxreader #Bucky Barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers x plus size reader #steve rogers x reader #Steve Rogers smut #mcu smut #plus size reader #pepper potts #stucky x reader

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hot-mysticc-mess-blog · 7 years ago

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Call Back: Chapter 2

Rating: G

Pairing: none

Words: 2,025

The continuation of this ficlet, part two in what is basically a re-write of the Another Story ending. Includes discussion of mentally-ill!MC who receives regular treatment and prioritizes her mental health because that is the hero we all need in our lives.

[Brackets] indicate transcripts from in-game calls. This piece features content from both of Day 9’s incoming Ray phone calls.

V has fallen asleep again after drinking some broth agent Vanderwood made. His sleep is still fitful but the waking thoughts, the crippling depression brought on by Mint Eye’s drug, are what is currently most dangerous to him. The good news is the effects will wear off, and the longer he sleeps right now the better. The bad news is, all they can really do is wait, leaving MC with a lot of time on her hands.

Her phone buzzes loudly on the nightstand, startling her. It is on silent, but even just the soft vibrations against the wood sound like a jack hammer echoing through the room compared to the earlier silence. She scrambles to answer it, barely even looking at the caller ID before answering. Unknown, Ray’s other drug-induced personality, had already called earlier. She was ready for anything he could throw at her, or so she thought, but the softness from the voice on the other line tells her immediately that she is speaking with Ray. Ray, not Unknown. The sigh of relief that escapes her tells her she may not be as prepared as she originally thought.

[“Haa…MC, are you alright? I…I’m back…! Sorry for disappearing without telling you…Did you miss me? Sorry…I’m so sorry…I almost did something terrible…Even to a fellow Mint Eye Believer…”

“So why did you disappear so suddenly?”

“Sorry…I’m sorry…I’ll be careful from now on. I’ll never…ever leave you. No matter how good I am, there’s only a slight chance you’ll be back…And now I terribly regret what I’ve done…This is all because of V…If it weren’t for him, everyone would’ve been happy at the paradise…!]

“Ray, this isn’t about V,” she cuts him off. Most of the time, just listening is enough for others, but it’s not with Ray. She has sat on the phone with him enough to know that letting him keep going means letting his thoughts spiral out of control while he spouts awful, horrible things. If anything is going to change though, she needs to talk to him, have a real conversation.

“Yes, it is…if V hadn’t—”

“Do you remember when I said I had something to talk to you about? I was hoping, for this conversation, we could put V and Rika aside. Would that be okay?”

“…I guess.” Ray sounds suspicious, and possibly a little miffed, but she knows that is probably the best she is going to get for now.

“You weren’t taking your elixir when we met, right?” Internally, she curses herself for asking. She had been carefully planning her words in her head, a big speech that would rival all the things Rika had put into his head, and already she is off-script.

“No…I had skipped a couple of days…” Ray answers, ashamed at his mistake. Rika had already spoken with him about it. He knows he needs to be taking it.

“I’m glad, because I liked getting to know you without it.”

“You…liked…who I am?” He sounds incredulous, like that was some sort of impossible thought. How could anyone like him as he was? He is angry, weak, and pathetic. The only person who loves him is the Savior, and that is because she loves everyone. An unfamiliar warmth in his chest, one that only seems to happen around MC, comes back to him. It is the kind of pleasure that could go toe-to-toe with the pain of losing her, the kind of pleasure he has only felt sometimes under the careful control of the Elixir.

“Of course, and I’d like to get to know you better, but first, what I’m going to say…will you try to listen to me?” It is unfair to ask, she knows. Ray wanted the same thing of her, and she had never even tried to look at Mint Eye with fresh eyes. It is a cult, one Ray is currently a member of. A cult that kidnapped her to take down a charity organization. A cult that drugged its followers to control them, leaving behind horrible side effects that she has witnessed first-hand. She would never change that decision, she made it to keep herself safe, but the guilt remains for asking Ray to keep a promise she could not.

It takes him a few long seconds of silence to put his thoughts back together. MC worries her lip between her teeth while she waits. “Of…of course, I will do whatever I can for you. I’ll never…ever leave you…”

“Ray, I’m not coming back to Mint Eye.” She must be firm on that front still. He has to get that through his head. He cannot keep living in delusions. “…but it’s not because of you, or anything you did. I don’t need saving, and I don’t think you need saving either. I think, you and me…just need a little help sometimes. The things you think, they like to hurt you, right? Your thoughts make you sad or worried or scared or make you feel like you’re not worthwhile?”

“Haa…It’s like you can see right through me…” She is so warm that even his Savior says she does not need to be saved, but MC understands him so well. Her voice already makes him feel lighter, but when she says things like this he feels like he might never stop smiling. “You’re so warm-hearted and wonderful…”

How is she supposed to explain this to him? She knows all the words, how other people talk about it, but the words ‘mental illness’ are going to sound to him like she thinks he’s broken. Rika, and whatever he has in his past, has convinced him the outside world just wants to lock him away. She needs to be careful in how she presents it.

“Ray,” she pauses to make sure she has his full attention, “do you know that sometimes my thoughts try to hurt me too? I get treatments for it.”

“…You get treatments? Are…are they hurting you? Is V hurting you? Are they saying you’re broken!? If they’re hurting you, I’ll come get you! I won’t let anyone hurt you. We can go to paradise together! We’ll be safe and happy…forever and ever.”

“Everything’s fine, Ray. No one is hurting me. My therapist is very nice, I visit her every week. She never makes me do or say anything I don’t want to and if I mess up she’s never angry. Her whole job is to help people with their bad thoughts, so people can feel a little less painful. I think that would be good for you, Ray. I want you to be in less pain. I want you to be happy.”

Oh. Oh, no. She doesn’t understand. She means so well, but she does not understand. Has V been telling her more bad things? Maybe if he explains again, she will understand. “Mint Eye is the only place for people like me. People like you can adapt, that’s what my Savior told me, but people like me…we need anger to survive. The outside world wouldn’t let me hate the people who hurt me like I wanted to. They wanted to bleach me away into nothing. My Savior takes care of me, she would take good care of you too if you came back. She likes you a lot…she….she might like you as much as I do.”

“Ray…” Her voice cracks, and she takes a deep breath to calm herself down. “I don’t know who you were with, or all of the things that happened to you, but the people outside of Mint Eye aren’t all bad. There are lots of people, like me, who just want others to be safe and happy.”

“Like you?” Ray asks, finally caught by something she was saying. There is a brief glimpse of lucidity in his voice. To her, it sounds like hope. “I would never leave my Savior,” he prefaces to abate his own guilt at even speaking the question, “but…would you be there?”

“Be there if you left Mint Eye?”

“…yes.” His voice gets quieter and quieter the longer the conversation goes on. MC presses the phone harder to her ear, clicking the ‘up’ button on the side so she can hear him. Her first instinct is to soothe his insecurities, tell him of course she would always be there, but she thinks better of it.

“When I could, yes. You would probably have to be in the hospital for a little while…and I don’t know if they would let you have visitors but once they did, or once you got out, I would be there to help you however I could. It’ll probably hurt a lot at first. It takes time to find out what is going to make you feel better because it’s different for everyone, but I’d do my best to make sure you have nice doctors like I do, and I’d help however I could.”

She…is she offering to take care of him? The mere thought is warm and tempting, she is always so nice to him. No, no. No, his Savior is the one who rescued him from the outside. MC is just confused, she has been brainwashed by all the people out there, by V. His Savior accepts his devil, she accepts everyone’s devil. Ray could never leave his Savior. He tries to say something, but all that comes out is a high-pitched squeak.

“Ray? Are you alright?” Concern drips from her voice, and he can picture the warmth in her eyes as if she were right in front of him and not God-knows-where held captive by his enemies.

“What if…” Ray starts to speak, finally able to make words, only for there to be a knock at his door. He answers it, but he must have pulled the phone from his ear for a moment because MC cannot hear anything from the other side of the phone. “I have to go now, my Savior needs me, but I’ll call you again soon. I hope…I hope you’ll still consider coming back to Mint Eye.”

“Wait— please take care of yourself Ray…” Her hands shake as she tells him goodbye, and it takes everything she has to keep her voice from cracking again. Had all of that been for nothing? Did he not hear a single word she said?

MC looks to V’s sleeping form on the bed and reminds herself of all the reasons she needs to be strong.

A few hours later, Ray calls yet again. This time V is awake, but she squeezes his hand reassuringly and excuses herself to the restroom. The tiny bathroom of a safehouse cabin is not the ideal place for a phone call, but it’s the only spot she could think of that would not worry anyone else in the house. As soon as she answers, she praises herself for her own foresight.

[“Ugh…Haaa…I think my head’s going to explode…It hurts so bad…It hurts. It hurts…It hurts…It hurts…I think I’m gonna die…Hrgh…MC…”

“Ray…?”

“Your voice…I wanted to hear your voice so bad…I missed…Haaaa…Tell me I’ll be okay…Please…?”

“Ray, snap out of it!”

“You’re caring for me, right…? You’re so sweet…I don’t think anybody ever cared for me…unconditionally…MC…You won’t betray me, will you? After this is all over…I want…to have an ice cream…Go outside…Watch the clouds…And we promised…To visit that garden together…again…Haa…Haaa…Cough, cough…No…Everything is over if I go down…I don’t want to be useless again…Cough…Haa….”]

“Ray, please stop letting her hurt you!” The phone clicks as though it was disconnected at the beginning of her sentence, but the call does not leave her screen until a few seconds later. Was he okay? It sounded like he was in a lot of pain again. Had he even heard that? If he had, would he listen or even know what she meant? She pulled the phone back so she could look at the screen, finger hovering over the call-back icon beside Ray’s name. A loud knock on the door startles her into nearly dropping her phone.

“Hey, did you die in there?” Vanderwood’s snarky deadpan tone is unmistakeable. If anything about this situation was a little less horrible, she probably would have laughed.

“Sorry! Just washing my face, I’ll be right out!”

#mystic messenger #mm ray #mm saeran #mc #ray #saeran #mine #my writing

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natasha-cole · 7 years ago

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Ready Steady Part 15

It’s really difficult to write Rob as being a jerk... but I tried. There’s a lot of dialogue here and it actually turned out really fluffy and gross. And hey! Rich is back!

Also, it almost feels like the story could end here... should I keep going?

Summary: Realizing that Rob really can’t forgive her, the Reader offers him an ultimatum before walking out again. She tries to come to terms with what she thinks is his choice, but there are bigger problems when complications arise that have her fearing the worst.

Word Count: 6036

Warnings: angst as usual, Rob being a jerk, lots of discussion of vomit and illness, and an excessive amount of fluff... like, it’s really kinda gross.

Note: For the sake of the remainder of the fic, I’m using some old Louden Swain songs and making them new ones. Also, as you can tell, my reader is a singer/songwriter and a country girl at heart… so for her, instead of trying to write my own lyrics, I’m using songs by Miranda Lambert and claiming them as the reader’s own. Hey, this way, you can listen to the actual songs after you read!

Another Note: Severe morning sickness is no joke. I’m writing from experience here.

Catch up: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

You hadn’t really expected the following morning with Rob to feel so awkward. Especially after he had returned to you in the middle of the night, kissing you and making you feel as if all was forgiven. You expected to wake up, still wrapped in his arms, with him just happy to have you there. But, you woke up to an empty bed that morning. Sitting up to see if you could hear him in the kitchen, you stopped when you saw him sitting in the chair near the end of the bed. He was watching you again, not saying a word. You tried to meet his gaze, a little confused as to what he was doing. He only stared toward you, sort of lost; as if he were thinking and not realizing that you were awake.

“Rob?” you asked carefully. Your voice seemed to break him from his thoughts and he met your eyes, still looking pained from the events of the night before. He stood up and moved toward you, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. It might have been a nice gesture if he hadn’t given you another frustrated sigh before leaving the room again. He never said a word, but you felt that maybe he was trying to show you that he still cared.

Honestly, you were beginning to feel mixed emotions coming from him. Especially when you followed him out of the room to the kitchen where he gradually began to fix breakfast. You smiled, remembering the first night you had spent here with him when you came back from Nashville. He had made you breakfast the morning after and you could recall how happy he had been that morning. But this time was different. You sat at the table as he moved in the kitchen, you could already smell the coffee that he must have made while you slept. He approached the table, setting down a cup of coffee in front of you, made just the way you liked it; almost as if he were giving you a peace offering. You politely declined the coffee however, to which he snatched it off the table and walked to the sink, pouring it down the drain with an annoyed look.

“What? You’ve quit drinking coffee now?” he asked with a bitter tone. He returned to his cooking without looking at you. The smell of the bacon that he had started, causing your stomach to churn.

“I just read that caffeine isn’t really a good thing during pregnancy,” you explained.

A sudden look of realization came across his face, almost as if he had completely forgotten the situation.

The air still felt tense. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to act around you, and truthfully, you knew you had forgotten how to act with him. He kept quiet still as he opened the fridge, moving things around until he found what he was looking for. He returned to you, placing a glass of orange juice in front of you.

“You can have this, right?” he asked as he walked away.

You mumbled a small “thank you” at his gesture as your stomach turned even more when the smell of the bacon became stronger.

“I don’t think I want any bacon…” you said softly. You listened to the crackling of the bacon in the pan, watching Rob as he ignored you for what seemed like forever. Your stomach churned again and you tried to force the sickness from your mind.

“I didn’t ask,” he said coldly, eyes focused on what he was doing. Ok, you deserved that. He was still upset, that much was obvious. Instead of turning it into an argument, you opted for just letting it go; forcing your body to hold back as the smell grew stronger.

He continued to cook and you just watched him. He still never once looked up at you. This was all so different from what it had been like the last time you were here. It made you sad to realize that so much could change over a couple of drastic choices and two months away. After a while, you couldn’t handle it anymore.

“Can you please stop with the bacon?!” you shouted. The smell had finally become too much for you and you were genuinely holding back the need to vomit. Rob looked at you now, confused as you made your way to the patio door, opening it to air the room out.

“It’s making me sick…” you explained as you attempted to breathe in fresh air from outside.

He eyed you in an almost challenging way, “Oh, you mean this bacon?” he asked before placing another slice down onto the pan. He returned his attention to the food, leaving you open mouthed in shock at how cold he seemed toward you.

You felt your face turn hot, pissed off at how unsympathetic he was being. But you bit your tongue. The only thought that had been running through your head that morning was how badly you had messed things up and how he had every right to still be angry with you. You understood that, by pointing out was an ass he was being right now, it left you open to even worse names based on what you had done. You tried to take a deep breath again to calm yourself, but you could only smell that damn bacon. You watched him again as he continued to cook, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face that showed you that he really didn’t care that you were sick. You were determined to meet him at his challenge, forcing back another wave of nausea. In the end, you folded by racing to the bathroom; unable to hold it back any longer.

There you were again, sitting on the bathroom floor, feeling miserable. The nausea had been nonstop for weeks and no matter what you tried, it never subsided. You wondered if it would ever stop. Still too weak to stand, you waited in hopes that Rob might at least come check on you. Maybe he cared enough to see if you were okay, maybe he cared enough to realize what a dick he was being right now. You leaned your head back against the wall, watching the bathroom door. You loved Rob, you knew that without a doubt. And he loved you, or, he did at one point. Right now, you weren’t really sure. You wanted him to just come in to check on you, the way that he would have before all of this mess had happened. He didn’t though.

You decided that this was not a situation that you were willing to remain in, especially given the circumstances. Any other time, you probably would have stuck it out; allowing him to treat you like crap and ignore you. God knows, you deserved it. But, for the first time since you had found out that you were expecting, you thought about your baby.

It was a foreign concept really. You knew you were pregnant, you certainly felt it, but you hadn’t really stopped to comprehend just how real this was. You thought back to your own childhood; having been raised by your father after your mother left when you were young. It had been a difficult childhood and theirs had been a difficult relationship. It wasn’t until you got older that you realized that they had stayed married for as long as they had been because of the fact that they had a child together. Your mother went through it, resenting your father for years for something that you never knew details about. It only ended when she had had enough and walked out on the both of you. That wouldn’t be you. That couldn’t be the life that your own child would have to experience.

You had come to terms with your own behavior in all of this. You knew what you had done and you were internally paying for it ever time you looked at Rob, every time that you remembered that you were in this situation. You thought about it all the time until it had become something that was constantly eating at you every day. Rob didn’t have to forgive you, you understood that. But he had to make a choice.

After some time of just sitting there, you finally felt okay to get up. You re-entered the bedroom, quickly finding your clothes from the night before and getting dressed. You grabbed your keys from the dresser and exited the room, making your way back to the kitchen.

He was sat at the table now, enjoying his breakfast, not looking up when you entered the room. Your attention went to the spot where you had been sitting. There it was, he had left you a plate as well; eggs, potatoes, toast, and a large pile of bacon. You scoffed at him as he finally looked up at you. You knew that he was trying to make you mad.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noticing the keys in your hand. You had to force yourself not to snap at him. Your emotions were already high; a combination of having been treated like crap this morning and just pregnancy hormones in general. You only reminded yourself that he was still hurt and finding any way to lash out at you that he could.

“I’m going home,” you replied as you turned to leave.

“What’s wrong?” he questioned you, pretending that he didn’t quite understand why you were upset. The idea of him pretending to be clueless to your feelings had finally gotten to you and you couldn’t help but speak out.

“You know?” you began, turning back to face him, “I get that you’re pissed off, you have every right to be. But, you can’t ask me to stay here like you did last night and kiss me and hold me, making me feel like everything was okay. You can’t make me feel like you still care… only to turn around and treat me like crap the next day. I’ve been in that relationship before, I know that this won’t work,” you said, referring to your relationship with Chris.

“Don’t compare me to him,” Rob spat out, knowing what you were getting at.

“I’m going home,” you continued, ignoring his interjection, “I’m going home until you can decide if you can forgive me and stop trying to punish me for this, or if forgiveness is too far beyond your capacity. In which case, we need to end this. For good.”

Rob looked away from you, unable to meet your stare anymore. He swallowed hard, fidgeting with the fork in his hand.

“We are having a baby together,” you reminded him, the words feeling strange as you said them out loud for the first time. “Whether we want this or not, it’s just what it is. This isn’t just on me, we both did this.”

“I’m not mad about that…” he mumbled.

You cut him off, “I know what I’ve done. I know it was wrong, and I’ve apologized until I’m blue in the face. I can’t do anything else, I can’t take it back, and I can’t fix this! I know I kept it from you and I shouldn’t have, fuck, I’m reminded of how horrible I was every day! But, we can’t go through this in this way. We can’t do this if all you are capable of is resenting me. It’s not fair to either of us, it’s not fair to our baby.” You felt yourself crying again, mostly out of frustration, hoping that he was hearing you and understanding. “You are not obligated to be with me because of this. But you also can’t be in my life unless you want to be. You can’t expect me to stay knowing that you’re just going to spend the rest of your life hating me.”

Rob continued to stare down at his plate, not showing any reaction. You let out a frustrated sigh as you turned from him.

“I’m going home where I won’t have to walk on eggshells to keep from upsetting you more. And you need to decide if you can forgive me or if it’s just too much. Because if asking for forgiveness is too much, then you need to just walk away.”

You left his house, not looking back. You were still irritated at how insensitive he had been with you. You felt conflicted, knowing that you had done some things wrong in this relationship, but, you were carrying his child and he couldn’t even be decent enough to take how you were feeling into consideration.

You sat in your car for a moment, watching his house. Maybe you were waiting for him to chase after you, admit that he had been an ass and that he needed you. Again, he didn’t show. You pulled out of the driveway, unsure if any of this was fixable.

Three days later, you still hadn’t heard from Rob. No phone calls, no texts, nothing to indicate that he was interested in forgiving you.

But, right now, that was the least of your worries. The excessive morning sickness that you had been experiencing was only getting worse. Within the past few days, you began to notice that you had developed multiple food aversions. Nothing sounded good and the thought of food alone was enough to make you queasy. You had forced yourself to eat on multiple occasions, knowing that you absolutely had to eat. However, you couldn’t hold anything down. Much of the time, you were sick until you were dry-heaving. Even drinking water had you rushing to the bathroom, not because of your normal pregnancy bladder… in fact, that need had all but disappeared since you couldn’t even hold fluids down.

Today was the worst of it. You had been in bed all day, head pounding as you sobbed over how miserable you felt. You were exhausted but couldn’t sleep. While you had been ignoring it for some time, you began to feel like this wasn’t normal. A small part of you felt afraid. Surely, throwing up this often couldn’t be a good thing. When your headache, body aches, and general overall terrible feelings became too much, you realized that you needed help.

You scrolled through your phone, knowing that you didn’t have family or any real friends to turn to. You moved through the contacts, only stopping on Rob’s name briefly until you remembered that he was obviously not interested in what was going on with you. You finally felt what he must have felt during those two months… being in love with someone who ignored you.

You thought about Rob’s friends, the ones who had been accepting enough to befriend you. Kim was out of the question. You had put her through enough as well.

You finally settled on Rich. At least you knew he lived in the area and he had been the first one you had met. He had taken an extreme liking to you right away. Of course, he probably hated you right now. After all, Rob was his best friend. You had to wonder how much he knew. But, the fact that you still occasionally received random phone calls from him, which you ignored, had you curious as to whether he was calling to check up on you. Not really expecting much from it, you pressed his name and waited as the phone rang.

“Y/N?!” he asked, sounding a bit shocked that you were calling. You smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, Rich…” you began.

“Are you crying?” you had to chuckle at what sounded almost like concern coming from him.

“Yeah,” you said, “I’m sorry to call you like this… I know you probably hate me too… after everything that happened…”

“What the hell did happen, Y/N?” his voice rose slightly, “I’ve been calling you for months. When Rob said you left…”

You cut him off, “I know, I was horrible.”

“I was trying to check in on you. He said something happened that night, something that freaked you out, and you just disappeared.”

“I saw him a few days ago,” you explained, hoping to ease his mind.

“Really? What happened?”

“Nothing good,” you choked out, the pounding in your head growing worse. “Look, I can explain everything later… but I just really need your help right now.” You began to sob over the phone at how bad you were feeling.

“Hey sweetie, what’s wrong?” Rich now sounded a little freaked out.

“I need a ride to the hospital.”

“Is everything okay?” you could hear the panic in his voice.

“I don’t know. It’s a long story. Please…” you begged, crying harder.

“Tell me how to get to you,” you felt yourself calm down a bit at his willingness to come to your aid.

You directed Rich to the hospital nearby as you curled up in the passenger seat, crying. You had never felt this bad. The nausea still threatened you although you had nothing left to throw up. Your body continued to ache and your head hurt so bad you were sure you would pass out.

“Wanna tell me what’s going on?” Rich asked as he drove, his eyes glancing over at you occasionally.

“Not really. I feel like shit right now.” You replied, resting your head in your hands.

“Are you going to be okay?”

“I don’t know,” the words came out almost slurred as you tried to focus in between the throbbing in your head and the nausea that was still present. “long story short, I’m pregnant, and I don’t think this is normal morning sickness.”

Rich’s eyes grew wide, “Pregnant?! Does Rob…”

“He knows. In fact, he’s not talking to me because I waited so long to tell him.”

“What? He was trying to find you, to get you back. Why would he just stop talking to you?”

“He’s pissed. He has every right to be,” you swallowed hard, fighting back the urge to vomit again. It was pointless really, there was nothing left to throw up. “I fucked up, Rich. Bad.”

The rest of the drive was quiet, aside from your pained sobs. By the time you reached the hospital, you were too weak to even walk. Rich rushed into the ER and returned with a wheelchair, helping you sit so that he could get you in to the waiting room.

The whole experience was a blur. You ended up in a room, a nurse poking at you and asking questions. You tried your best to answer them, not sure if you were making any sense by that point. You made sure to mention that you were pregnant, and your biggest concern was the baby at that point. You’d glance over at Rich, who had stayed with you, just to be sure he wasn’t going to leave you alone. This wasn’t his problem, you knew that, but you felt better knowing he was there. When the doctor finally saw you, you were feeling even worse.

“Are you her husband?” the doctor asked, looking at Rich.

“Me? No, no, I’m just a friend.”

“I’m not married,” you slurred, trying to make Rich feel a little more comfortable, “the father isn’t involved.”

The doctor began talking, but you couldn’t really focus on what he was saying right now. At one point, you noticed that Rich had left the room, and you couldn’t help but panic a bit at the thought of being alone right now.

“Where is my friend?” you sputtered, crying due to the pain you were feeling.

“He’s still here, he just stepped out for a moment.”

You leaned back and began to sob again. You were sure you were dying. This was definitely not normal.

The doctor continued, but you still couldn’t focus. You only heard bits and pieces of what he was trying to tell you. You heard him tell you that you were very dehydrated, your blood pressure was too low, and your heart rate was a concern. You didn’t understand what any of that meant, or why it was such a concern. You just felt terrible and wanted it to stop.

When Rich returned to the room, he was followed by a nurse.

“We need to get you on an IV for now, you’re very dehydrated. This is dangerous for you and your baby.” Your heart dropped at the words.

“What did I do? What did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong,” the doctor assured you, “we’re going to run more tests, but I’m sure you’re experiencing severe morning sickness. It’s certainly no fun, and it can be very dangerous. We’ll get you through this.”

You tried to relax as the nurse set you up with an IV. Between that and the various machines monitoring your blood pressure and heart rate, you were very uncomfortable. The sickness and the pain were still very much there and you weren’t sure that you could relax.

You remained there for some time, just allowing the doctor and nurses to do what needed to be done. After a while on the IV, you began to notice a slight change in how you felt. The headache was easing up, the pain in your body began to dissipate, and the nausea didn’t feel as prominent. You began to feel yourself breathe a little better, closing your eyes for a while to rest.

“Y/N?” you heard Rich whisper from the other side of the room where he was sitting. “I’m going to step out, there’s someone here who needs to see you.”

You grimaced as you felt a sharp pain in your head, “W-what?” It was all you could spit out before he was out the door. Just after he left the room, the door opened again. You strained your eyes to see who it was. Your breath caught as Rob peeked his head into the room. “Rich…” you thought to yourself. Of course, he had called Rob. You leaned back, willing away the throbbing that had started in your head again. This was the last thing you needed right now.

Rob entered the room, moving toward you as quietly as he could. He stood next to you and you glared up at him.

“What are you doing here?” you asked shakily.

“Rich called me,” he started, “he said you were really sick and you were at the hospital. I got here as soon as I could…”

“Why?”

“Because I was worried. I’m still worried. Are you okay?” you heard his voice crack. You focused on him, seeing those blue eyes wet with tears.

“I’m fine. Nothing for you to worry about.”

He examined you, looking at the machines and IV that you were hooked up to, “you don’t look fine. You do that a lot… say everything is fine, when it’s really not.”

“Well, I’ll be fine.”

“I have to admit, I’m a little hurt that you called Rich with this and not me.”

“Fantastic! There’s another mistake that you can add to my list… you know, in case you want to punish me for that one too.” You replied. You really didn’t want to deal with him right now. You had to admit, seeing his face had made your heart skip a beat, you loved the man and thoroughly enjoyed looking at him, but you couldn’t handle another guilt trip right now.

“That’s not what I was doing…” he said in a low voice, averting his eyes to the floor.

“What do you want?” you asked, now feeling annoyed.

“What do you mean? You’re in the freaking hospital. I’m here because I’m worried. I’m here because this is my fault and I’m scared.”

“It’s not your fault…” you tried to assure him.

“If I hadn’t been such a dick you wouldn’t have left, you would have been with me and I would have been the one to bring you here the second I knew you were that sick. It’s my fault it got this bad. It was the fucking bacon!”

You looked at him, genuinely confused, “what are you talking about?”

“The bacon,” he replied, exasperated, “if I hadn’t been such a jerk over the bacon that morning, this wouldn’t be happening.”

“Bacon?” you looked at him questioningly, “what bacon?”

“The other morning, I made the bacon and I knew it was making you sick. I did it anyway just to get to you… and now you’re here… really sick, and it’s my fault.”

“Oh,” you said as you recalled that morning, “no, Rob, it’s not your fault. Sure, you were being a dick, but that didn’t cause this. I’ve been miserable with this pregnancy since I first realized I was pregnant. It’s just gradually gotten worse. It’s no one’s fault.”

Rob sat in the chair at your bedside with a huff, putting his face into his hands. He looked pretty stressed out and you couldn’t help but feel bad for him.

“I know you’re here because you’re worried about the baby…”

“Stop, why do you always have to do that?” he looked at you. “I’m worried about the baby, yes. But I’m worried about you too. I know I haven’t been acting like it, but I love you. I was just so hurt that I couldn’t think straight.”

You smiled at his words. He did still love you. Despite everything you had put him through, he still loved you. He cared enough to be here, even after your fight.

Before you could say more, the doctor returned to check in on you. You had been on the IV for a couple of hours by now, and were genuinely amazed at how much better you felt. The doctor stood by your side, as he explained your condition to you. Hyperemesis Gravidarum, or in simple terms, just really bad morning sickness. Scribbling on his clipboard, he talked more, telling you what should be done to prevent further visits to the ER.

“You need to be on bed rest for a while, at least until you follow up with your regular doctor and they determine otherwise… I’m writing you a prescription, it will help with the nausea so that you can actually eat… try to eat smaller meals more often throughout the day, eat bland foods, I’ll give you a list…”

“Bland food?” you asked, grimacing at the sound of it.

“Just soft foods, low in fiber, avoid anything spicy… the simpler the better.”

“Hmm, I guess that means no bacon,” you joked, glancing at Rob with a smile. He only stared down at the floor, looking guilty. You frowned that your joke didn’t go over as well as you had hoped.

The doctor looked at Rob when he noticed him in the chair next to you.

“This isn’t the friend you came in with,” he stated.

“No, this is the father…”

The doctor raised a brow before he continued, “I also have to emphasize the importance of avoiding stressful situations.” You knew he was referring to the fact that you had told him that the father of your baby was not involved in any of this, yet here he was sitting next to your bedside.

“I’m not a stressful situation,” Rob stated, now eyeing the doctor.

“It’s okay,” you said, trying to ease the doctors mind, “he’s fine, really.”

“Okay,” the doctor looked back at you, handing you some papers from his clipboard, “here’s your prescription and some information. You should be okay to go home tonight; the nurse will get you checked out so just sit tight for a while longer.” He headed to the door but stopped and turned back to you, “and, Y/N, the moment that you feel that terrible again, you come right back here. Don’t let it go for as long as you did this time.”

You nodded, letting him know that you understood and he left the room.

Rob remained silent now, eyes still staring at the floor. You watched him as he sat there, realizing that the man really was blaming himself. He had guilt written all over his face and he just looked genuinely stressed out. His bright blue eyes appeared darker right now, you noticed dark circles around his eyes, and he just didn’t seem to be himself.

“Are you okay?” you asked, attempting to take the focus off of yourself.

Rob ran a hand through his hair, “Y/N… I’m fine. Really, why are you checking in on me when you’re the one in a hospital bed?”

“You look tired.”

“Yeah, well, that’s probably because I haven’t slept very well in three days. I’ve been beating myself up over how I treated you. It was a shitty thing for me to do.”

“Why didn’t you call then?”

“I don’t know. Maybe the same reason you didn’t call me for two months.” That one sort of stung. He was still guilt tripping you, but this wasn’t the time or place for it. You felt yourself getting angry with him again.

“Rob, I don’t need this right now…”

“I just meant, I didn’t call because I felt that… at the time… you were just better off without me. I was being petty and I knew that wasn’t good for you, you don’t deserve that.”

“Are we?” you asked after a while. You had been asking yourself this for a few days. The idea of it made you sick again, knowing how deeply you cared for him, and knowing deep down that he still cared for you. But the past few months seemed to be made up of moments of the two of you just hurting each other.

“What?” he asked, eyes finding yours.

“Are we just better off without each other?”

His face fell, your words sinking in.

“Sometimes I wonder if we were just stupid for rushing into this.” You continued, “It felt right at the time… but I’m so damaged, and all of my issues just got in the way. And then, we find each other again, and I still continue to hurt you, and you turn around and hurt me… and I don’t know that I can keep doing that.”

“We don’t have to keep doing that.” he took your hand in his as he brought it to his lips, kissing your knuckles, “you told me that I had to choose, and you were right. I can’t keep holding that against you. I don’t want to anymore. I forgive you for not telling me sooner. I forgive you for walking out on me the way you did.”

“You forgive me because I’m lying in a hospital bed…”

“No, I forgive you because I don’t know what that was like for you. I don’t understand any of what has happened in the last few months. I didn’t take into consideration what you went through, how scared you must have been… I was selfish and I was thinking of myself and my own feelings.”

“Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done…” you whispered, trying to hold back your tears, “it was so difficult that… when I found out I was pregnant, I was sure that you hated me so much that you wouldn’t care.”

“Of course I care…” he began.

“I know, I just… I got scared. I was too afraid to call you after what I had done. I wasn’t afraid of you knowing… I was afraid to hear your voice again, because I knew that it would ruin me. I hated myself for leaving. Because I love you so much, and I hurt you. I just thought I was doing the right thing… for you.”

Rob brought your hand back to his lips, lowering his head as he did so. You didn’t say anything else, neither did he. You waited in silence until the nurse entered the room, giving you paperwork to sign, and releasing you.

Although you were still feeling weak and slightly achy, you were determined to leave the ER without the help of a wheelchair, even though Rob insisted. But, you stood your ground and he helped you walk out to his car.

“Wait, what about Rich?” you suddenly realized that the man who brought you here may have been left behind.

“I sent him home a while ago. It’s late and he’s got his wife and kids at home…”

You gave Rob a soft smile as he helped you into the passenger seat of his car. When he was sure that you were safe and comfortable, he got in, sitting there for a moment.

“Rich really helped me out today. I owe him. I didn’t have anyone else to call…” you said. Rob gave you a look, pursing his lips. “I mean, I figured he was the only one who might not hold anything against me.”

“Rich likes you, he spent a lot of time encouraging me to find you… to fix things.”

“He’s a good guy,” you smiled.

“Yeah, a pain in my ass sometimes… but he’s a really good guy.”

“Thank you for coming, to see if I was okay.” You knew it was a small gesture, but you figured that the two of you had spent so much time being upset with each other and fighting, it might mean something to say it out loud. Rob turned toward you, giving you a smile that made those eyes light up. You maybe felt yourself falling in love with him all over again.

“Of course,” he replied. He reached over to you awkwardly before placing his hand on your belly, letting it rest there for a while, “I’m always going to be here for you… for both of you.” You were sure your heart was going to burst in that moment. Now, this was all beginning to feel very real. This was how it was supposed to be. You had the love of your life back, and he was able to accept the things that had happened between you and move on.

After some time of him just touching you and staring at your belly with a look that you were sure was that of complete amazement, Rob slowly pulled his hand away and focused on starting the car. You were certain that this was all becoming very real for him too. Neither of you had taken just a moment to appreciate that, although you had only known each other for a short time, you had fallen in love and were going to be parents. It hadn’t been planned, hell, it hadn’t even crossed your thoughts that this could ever happen. But these small moments were proof that you really did love each other, and you already loved this baby.

“Where to, Y/N?” he asked.

“I think I just need to go home,” you leaned back in your seat, glancing over to him.

“Oh, okay,” for some reason he looked almost hurt, “you- you gotta tell me the address, I don’t even know where you live.”

You chuckled at how he suddenly became uncomfortable, almost as if you had given him an answer that he didn’t want to hear. You reached a hand up to run your fingers along the nape of his neck until he turned to look at you again. You ran your hand along his jawline before leading his face to yours. He leaned toward you, meeting you halfway. This might have not been the most romantic setting for the two of you to start over, to begin again, but it felt like the right moment. Before you could make your move, he leaned in further and kissed you. It was gentle, and you felt your heart flutter again just as it had done the first time he kissed you in Nashville. When you pulled back, and he made sure to press his forehead to yours as he always did, you just knew that things would be okay. That’s when you decided with absolute certainty where you wanted to be, and that you needed to be there with him.

“No, Rob. I want to go home.”

Tag List: @tas898, @wolfyangel-is-a-pluviophile, @narisjournal-blog, @dont-hate-relate-pls, @waywardswain, @nerdyforyourbooks, @perksofbeingafangirl26, @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll, @pepperwoodatnight, @idk-fandom, @please-stop-killing-dean, @b-northington, @sclerafantrash, @itsilvermorny, @jannalionheart, @feelmyroarrrr, @capital-eyyyy-ohhh, @prlncess-nuala, @nekodresden85, @thebookisbtr, @internationalfandomgirl, @smoothdogsgirl, @chantelle-c333. @emilywells19 @laffytaffyhumor @lucifersxvessel @thefelinemedia78 @onlyanothersocialcasualty @typicalweirdbookworm @littleshone @a-queen-and-her-throne @fandooomqueenforyou @spnackleholicswainer @omgitss0y @girl-next-door-writes @destielschild @fangirl1855

#rob benedict fanfiction #rob benedict x reader #ready steady

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ilvolo-writings · 8 years ago

Text

Chapter X- Paradiso

You could feel your pulse constantly elevating, as your heart beat faster and faster as the words of Ignazio's letter made their way through your brain and into your soul, filling it with that warmness that you thought you had lost forever.

Your hands unconsciously allowed the letter to drop to the floor, your fingers left almost grasping the ticket that was enclosed within the envelope. You brought it closer to your eyes, firstly in order to actually believe that the moment was real, and secondly to find out what time your flight was leaving.

Your brain, however, didn't bother registering that; the movement's sole purpose was to force yourself out of a dream, if that situation had been a dream; you smiled as you understood it wasn't.

Without caring about the hours you'd have to wait at the airport, you took your suitcase out, throwing in most of your stuff, or at least the part that you felt was necessary to you. Tears were running down your cheeks constantly, but those were certainly not like the tears you'd shed the previous days; the ones making their way down your cheeks then, crashing down on semi-folded shirts and dresses, resembled rivers of bliss.

Packing your stuff took you about half an hour. After that, you wasted no time and immediately called a cab to the airport. You almost laughed at the way you sounded to the person at the other end of the line, recognizing your tone was almost too cheerful, as if you'd just won the lottery.

The taxi arrived precisely 3 minutes after your call. You sighed loudly as you closed the door of the house behind you, leaving the key underneath the doormat. Lucas should be arriving home soon, you thought, and almost smirked as you realized that he now belonged to your past, and Ignazio was your future.

The hours seemed to fly from then on. It felt to you as if only 10 minutes had passed since the moment you'd left the house when the voice informed you:

" Attention, ladies and gentlemen. In approximately five minutes, we are landing in Rome.".

Everything went smoothly, and you exited the airport, holding your suitcase, a huge smile spread on your face.

You checked the time, and frowned a bit as you realized it was still midday. You tried finding the letter from Ignazio, to verify what you remembered; seeing him again would happen at noon. However, you failed to retrieve it, it wasn't in either one of your pockets. You shrugged it off, deciding that the letter probably was in your suitcase, and that it didn't matter anyway; you've always had a good memory.

After some thinking, you decided that you should rest for a couple of hours, 'till noon came. With that in mind, you checked into the first hotel you found, mentioning that you'd only be using the room for some hours. Eventually, however, instead of resting, you ended up spending those hours on getting ready. You wanted to look absolutely stunning, as beautiful as you could possibly look, not in order to provoke him or anything like that, but because he was worthy of all the beauty in the world and you wanted to offer him as much of that as you could.

And you didn't feel tired, not even a single bit, as you walked out of the hotel, when the sun had begun going down and noon was taking place. As your steps got you closer to the Fontana, you felt your heart swelling in your chest, your breath getting caught in your throat and your mind forced you to take smaller steps, while your soul insisted on longer strides.

You recognized the scenery, the sun had almost set, giving everything a sense of nostalgia, of that absolute beauty that only Rome can give to you. You took a deep breath and moved even closer to the monument, now being able to see almost every single person that stood in front of it.

It didn't take you long to spot him. He stood there, wearing a pair of black pants and a white shirt, hands in his pockets, his look cast down. You smiled as you stepped closer to him, even though you felt like running to him.

He raised his eyes, his eyes staring right at yours as you approached, and he wasted no time doing the same. By then, only a few centimeters separated you. You paused, and smiled at him even more. He did the same.

" I... I was afraid you wouldn't come after all...", Ignazio said, and you slightly giggled as you looked down for some seconds.

" I wasn't exactly sure what noon meant.. So I improvised ", you said, and he laughed, which lit those familiar fireworks in your heart.

" I guess that's my fault, but when I wrote that letter I wasn't exactly... calm.", he said, but the moment he noticed you frowning he rushed to explain.

" No, no... I mean I only then realized that the letter would be my only chance to have you back, and I wanted to write so many, so many things (Y/n), but I had to somehow find the most important ones... And use the correct words to make you understand exactly how I feel...", he said softly, and you smiled as you touched his cheek and saw him leaning to your touch, like he always used to.

" Igna, I... I can't tell you just how much I've missed you... This whole story, this huge misunderstanding has been absolute hell for me, I-", you started saying, but his soft voice interrupted you, as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a velvety kiss on it.

" It's been the same for me too, (Y/n). And I'm sorry, I'm terribly sorry that I let all this time sleep away from our hands, that I wasted all those moments we could've had together... But I promise you, I promise that I will never let you go, from now on I will always be here for you. I just want one favor from you.", he said, his warm eyes gazing at you. You slightly furrowed your eyebrows.

" What do you mean?", you questioned, and he sighed with a grin.

" Make me the happiest man on this earth. Tell me the words you wrote to that letter...", he said gently. You beamed as you threw your arms around his neck, and lovingly whispered in his ear.

" I love you, I love you, I l-".

You didn't manage to complete your words as you felt Ignazio sharply turning you around, a faint "no" escaping from his lips. The next sound you heard was that of a loud bang, and you felt his body slightly pushing itself to yours. You only realized what had happened when you heard the carabinieris shouting, and felt Ignazio's body trembling against yours.

" I-Igna, wh-", you tried saying, and only then you heard his silent grunting.

" No, no, it's okay, it's o-kay (Y/n), I'm fine, don't be afr-aid", he said in between gasps, but you felt tears running down your face as you noticed that his white shirt had turned into a bright red, a bit lower than his heart.

" Igna, don't, don't speak, I know you're going to b-e okay, let's lay d-own for a minute, until the ambulance arrives, okay?", you said, and he softly nodded. You held his head in your lap, your one hand softly caressing his hair while the other held his own tightly. Your eyes scanned the perimeter, and you saw Lucas screaming at the four people that were holding him down, the gun visible some meters away from him.

" I- I s-aw him raising the gun at y-ou, (Y/n)... Lucas, he was going to shoot you, and you know I would never let that h-appen. But it seems that he got me g-ood...", he said, and you shook your head rapidly.

" N-o, Igna, this is nothing, you s-aid it, you're going to b-e okay. Just be patient, they'll come...", you whispered, and your grip only became stronger as you saw his shivering even more.

" B-ut, (Y/n), just in case something happens and I don't get the chance to t-ell you again, I love you with everything in me. And I don't regret anything th-at happened, because right now I have you, and I love you and you love m-e...", he said confidently, before pausing for a bit and then whispering.

" It was all worth it... Our love was worth it.".

" Y-es, Ignazio, it was... We were, w-e are... That's why you need to promise me that you'll be okay, that we're going to live together, grow old together...", you said, and to your amusement he chuckled lightly.

" A-re you asking me to m-arry you?", he asked, and you smiled sadly as you wiped your tears.

" Wh-at if I am?", you said, and he smiled as a tear escaped.

" Of course I want to marry y-ou... I w-ill marry you.", he whispered before letting out another grunt, this time louder, and shivering even more. You saw his face had acquired an expression of fear, so your hands found the side of his face as you spoke to him.

" Shh, don't be afraid, Igna... I l-ove you, you're going to be okay and we're going to have the life we dreamed together.. I promise y-ou, they are coming, they are going to be here in no time, I can almost hear the sirens...", you tried comforting him, and you noticed a long tear escaping his eye.

" I'm s-o ang-...Damn it it's so unfair to lose y-ou just when I found you, it's n-ot fair, (Y/n). And I'm afraid, I'm too af-raid to leave you alone, I don't want to d-..", he said, clearly terrified at the possibility of death.

" So you're not going to leave me, and I'm not going to leave you, okay? Promise me th-at...", you said, failing to contain your tears as he, for the second time that evening raised your hand to his lips and kissed it, this time however you could tell he was putting as much power as he physically could.

" I pr-omise...", he said, and you saw his eyes slowly closing, the moment you heard the ambulance arriving.

You opened your eyes, understanding you were facing the sea. The sound of its' waves arriving at the shore and then retrieving back always filled your head with memories.

Since that noon at the Fontana, four whole years had passed. You closed your eyes again, and the pictures resurfaced, almost flooding your brain.

You felt almost too afraid to close them again. However, a hand rested on your shoulder, and you smiled as you reached and caressed it, stopping only when the two wedding rings touched. Your eyes met his; his lips met yours.

Aaaand, after all this time, this is the end of the story, the final chapter. Again my apologies for the delay, but I really hope this chapter makes up for it a bit :3.

I would like to thank EVERYONE who commented/liked/reblogged/messaged me on this, honestly it meant the WORLD to me, it was practically the force that kept me updating this :3. So thankyouthankyouthankyou to ALL of you :D

As always, I’d LOVE to hear your thoughts on this, it’s my first story and I feel as if it’s some sort of a digital “baby” of mine or sth :3. So please let me know, and ofcourse any suggestions for imagines are always welcome.

Again, thank you for reading this, I feel I cannot stress enough just how massive your role has been for this story’s existance :D

‘Till the next time,

#il volo imagines #imagines il volo #new imagine #new il volo imagine #ignazio boschetto imagine #il volo

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j-writes-and-suffers · 7 years ago

Text

NaNoWriMo Day Eleven

Wandering around the top floor of the library, Philip took a minute to explore before properly searching for Lucien. He discovered several nice alcoves for studying, as well as a large collection of dictionaries, thesauri, and other writing resources surrounding a big desk. He was busy snooping about for anything else cool when a voice murmured in his ear.

“Finding everything alright?”

“Fuck!” Philip jumped about a foot in the air, spinning around to glare at Lucien. “Dude, I swear, you’re gonna be the death of me…”

Lucien chuckled. “Sorry. I can’t help myself. You’re so easy to scare.”

Philip rolled his eyes. “You’re an ass.”

“Perhaps so,” Lucien shrugged, “but you came to visit anyway.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Philip’s cheeks were tinged pink, and he tried to change the subjects. “That Kyle kid is a piece of work.”

Lucien sighed deeply. “Oh. You met him, did you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Yeah, he’s… he’s something.” Lucien grumbled, “Sadly, no one but Heather and him applied, and I need the extra hands.”

“Jeez man, if you’re that desperate, I’ll chop off my hands and you can have those instead.” Philip jested.

Lucien’s resentful scowl faded, and he chuckled warmly. “I appreciate the offer, but I think you need those.”

Philip shrugged. “Nah, it’s fiiiine. Voice typing is getting pretty good. I’ll just learn to open doors with my foot or something.”

Rolling his eyes, Lucien dropped into a nearby chair. “You’re ridiculous.”

“The world needs a little ridiculous.” Philip replied, sitting next to him.

“That it does.” Lucien smiled. “You do make for some nice entertainment in my incredibly bland life.”

“Oh! Speaking of entertainment…” Philip remembered what he had actually come to the library for. “Do you want to go see a movie this weekend? I hear the newest superhero one is pretty good.”

Lucien paused to think, “I haven’t seen a movie in theater in years… It sounds nice, though. Dinner and a movie or just a movie?”

“How about a movie and a walk in the park?” Philip suggested.

“That sounds excellent.” Lucien smiled, but his cheeriness faded at the sound of bickering from downstairs. “I have to go deal with my lackeys… see you Wednesday, perhaps? Hopefully, by then, I’ll have them more under control.”

“Yeah, sure.” Philip nodded, following Lucien down the stairs and heading out the front door.

Wednesday afternoon, Philip returned to the library as promised. He and Lucien spent a few hours talking, with Philip helping carry stacks of books so they could actually stay productive. The evening drew to a close when it started raining outside, as Lucien urged Philip to get home before it got bad. As much as he wanted to stay, Philip knew that he’d be royally boned if he waited to leave and the rain got worse. With a reluctant goodbye, he hurried home, getting misted the whole way by the growing precipitation.

Philip spent most of Thursday bouncing around, his energy increasing as date night grew closer. He practically jogged to the library on Friday, wanting to iron out the details of their plans for tomorrow. Bolting in the front door, Philip was relieved to see Heather, rather than Kyle, on circulation duty.

“Hi, Heather.”

“What’s up, blondie?” She asked, looking up from her bio textbook.

“Uh, where’s Lucien?” Philip asked, “I wanted to talk to him.”

“Then you’ll have to call him, cause he’s not here. Sick or something.” Heather shrugged, as if this didn’t worry her at all.

“What?” Philip’s jaw dropped, heartbreak shining in his wide, dark eyes.

She shrugged again. “He’s out sick a lot, it’s probably nothing.”

“B… but we had a date tomorrow.” Philip was trying to hide his distress, but his voice wavered audibly.

“That sucks, man. I’m sure he’ll make it up, though. Luci’s loyal. He’s just also sickly as hell.”

Philip didn’t seem convinced. “But what if he’s not sick? What if he doesn’t wanna see me, and he’s just too nice to say so?”

Heather rolled her eyes. “You’re being paranoid.”

“Or maybe I’m being realistic. I was always suspicious that he wasn’t really into me. I’m too young and dumb and annoying. I don’t know why I ever thought we had something.”

“Dude, calm down. Go drink or something. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.” She snapped, losing her patience with Philip’s nervous antics.

“Sorry. I don’t mean to bother you. I’ll… I’ll go now.” Philip hung his head shamefully, hurrying out of the library and heading for home. He only made it about ten minutes before tears started dripping down his cheeks. His already sluggish pace slowed further, and he sniffled softly, rubbing his eyes as he trudged off campus, heading for his miserably empty apartment.

Philip curled up on his couch as soon as he got home. Though he was normally hungry after such a long walk, today the pain in his stomach was a gut-wrenching sadness. He felt rejected, unwanted, pathetic. He’d known somewhere in the back of his mind that he wasn’t good enough, but he’d convinced himself that Lucien didn’t mind. Why was he such an optimistic idiot?

He buried his face in the couch cushions, sobbing loudly now that he was in private. As the night dragged on, he finally quieted down, sitting up and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. Maybe Heather was right. He should drink or something. That would cheer him up, or at least distract him. He went searching through the kitchen, wondering if he even had any alcohol around at the moment. All he could find was a bottle of blueberry wine; it must’ve been a gift or something, because he never drank wine and he fucking hated blueberries. However, he was in no mood to go out shopping, and decided he’d rather drink some gross wine than be sober.

Philip woke up on Saturday morning with no memory of the night before. His phone was on the floor by his bed, dead as a doornail. He groaned in dismay, plugging it in and praying that he hadn’t drunk-texted Lucien. The screen glowed with life, and he narrowed his eyes against the brightness. His heart skipped a beat as he saw a heartfelt plea sprawled out across the screen complete with typos and a confession of love. Philip cringed, ready to commit seppuku just to restore his dignity from this disaster, when his eyes wandered to the name at the top of the screen.

Team Snapchat.

For a brief moment, Philip actually believed there might be a god. He sighed deeply, relieved beyond words that he hadn’t spammed Lucien with an embarrassingly badly-written sob story. He set his phone aside, pulling a pillow over his face; he was feeling pretty rough after the previous night, and didn’t really want to do anything. Luckily, it was a Saturday, and his date had cancelled, so he was perfectly free to spend his night on absolutely nothing.

The weekend dragged on in a consistently boring and somewhat depressing fashion. When he finally found the will to get out of bed, Philip made himself a dinner of cinnamon toast crunch and ice cream, curling up on the couch to watch romance movies and cry. When Sunday evening rolled around, he started to get anxious. Should he go to the library tomorrow? Would Lucien even be there? Would Lucien want to see him if he was there? Should he even go to work tomorrow? His thoughts grew overwhelming, and Philip forced himself to stop caring. He curled up, ready to go to sleep. He’d just roll with the punches tomorrow, and let what happened happen.

Monday morning rolled around in its usual sluggish manner. Philip had no desire to be up before noon, but he crawled out of bed in time to lead his morning lecture nonetheless. Even less awake than usual, he grabbed an extra large coffee between each lecture, as well as a muffin from the coffee shop. By the end of the day, he found himself bouncing off the walls from an overload of sugar and caffeine. The excess energy only lent to his anxiety, and Philip paced around the lecture hall as his last class let out, contemplating whether or not to go to the library.

He’d told himself last night that he would relax and do what felt right, but he wasn’t anxious and caffeinated when he said that. Now he absolutely had to know what Lucien thought of him, even though he was nearly panicking just at the thought of outright rejection. He made a few more laps around the room before finally gathering his courage. He had to go to the library.

Philip’s legs were shaking as he walked up the old stone steps, but he took a deep breath and yanked the door open anyway. Kyle was manning the front desk, too busy with his cheetos and anime to even look up. Philip was honestly grateful for that; Kyle was the last person on earth he wanted to talk to right now. Nervously creeping into the library, he looked around, scanning every aisle for signs of Lucien. Instead, he found Heather re-shelving books. She looked up at him, giving a brief nod of greeting.

“Luci’s in the lounge.”

“Oh… uh… thanks.” Philip forced a smile, shuffling off towards the door in the back. It was slightly ajar, and he peeked nervously inside. No one was visible in the sliver of the room he could see, so he tentatively pushed the door open. “Lucien?” He squeaked, his voice breaking front sheer anxiety.

“I was wondering if you’d show.” Lucien was tucked into the corner of the couch, tea in one hand and a book in the other. His voice was incredibly scratchy, as though he’d just gargled with broken glass, and he honestly looked more like a week-old corpse than a live human. He was paler than a cartoon vampire, with deep shadows under his eyes. His face was startlingly gaunt and thin, as though he hadn’t eaten all weekend, and his normally-impeccable hair was slightly disheveled and more grey than ever.

Philip’s jaw nearly fell to the floor, and a pang of guilt struck him for ever thinking Lucien was lying about being sick. “Of course I’d show… I wanted to talk to you. Are you okay? You look really rough. What’s wrong?” He asked, stepping closer to get a better look at the older man.

“It’s a chronic illness I’ve dealt with for years. It’s not deadly, it just… gets the better of me sometimes. It’s not contagious, so you’ve really nothing to worry about.” Lucien seemed intent on calming Philip down; he could tell that the younger man was stressed. “Come sit with me, and we can talk.” He patted the couch cushion next to him, motioning Philip over.

Philip plopped down next to Lucien, frowning in concern. “You don’t seem to be feeling that good. Why come back to work so soon?”

“If I skipped work whenever I wasn’t feeling well, we’d need a new librarian.” Lucien quipped, “I learned to manage years ago, you really needn’t worry so much. All that aside, I do apologize for missing our date on Saturday. I told Heather to tell you that, but I don’t know how well she relayed the message…”

“Nah, it’s fine. She told me.” Philip lied. “Anything I can help you with while I’m here? I don’t want you overworking yourself.”

“Don’t be absurd. That’s what student workers are for.”

Philip couldn’t help but laugh, and he leaned against Lucien, a smile spreading across his face. “I’m glad you came back to work. I missed you on Friday.”

Lucien smiled back, some of the life briefly returning to his face. “I missed you, too."

#nanowrimo #nanowrimo 2017 #fantasy #modern fantasy #comedy #school

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