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targaryenrealnessdarling · 8 months ago

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It's Who We Have | Part Nine

Summary: It's time for Billy to try and make amends with their friend group, whilst also anticipating the fallout of the incident | Word Count: 6.5k~ | Warnings: connotations of racism, mentions of terrorism, smut, p in v, quickie, mentions of funerals

General Taglist | Billy Washington Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The smell of varnished wood made her nose wrinkle. It made her think of the school’s assembly hall, the one in primary school, scratched to shit, and when the sun shone in on it during the day, it had a mustier quality to it than usual. She still remembers the dust in the air, drifting in front of her face like tiny fairies. It reminded her of those spring days at Cranstead Fields, when the flowers were pollinating, and the yellow haze that clung around her.

The only time she’s ever liked that smell, was at the Year 6 disco, when she looked out at the others, dancing to ‘Uptown Girl’, with Panda Pop and Wotsit-stained fingers, faces bright with laughter. She felt her chest tight with nerves, only eased somewhat by the squeeze of Billy’s hand beside her. She had to look up at him now, he’d shot up since she first met him. But his soul remained the same.

“Miss?”

Her head shot up, shaking her head slightly of her trance, brought back to the musty smell of the courtroom, her eyes flitting about, the odd familiar face in a sea of unrecognisable ones. Billy to one side on the bench where the witnesses would be, his gorgeous blue eyes wide with worry, but not for him, craning his neck forward at her in concern.

She looked back at the lawyer, her cheeks warm with embarrassment, “I’m sorry…could you repeat the question, please?”

She clutched her dress in her fist, luckily hidden behind the witness box, but the judge might have been able to see.

“Could you describe your relationship with the other witness, Mr Washington?"

She found her mouth was so dry, as if made of cotton for a moment, a hoarse, nervous voice escaped her, feeling the eyes of everyone in the courtroom zero’d in on her alone.

“Billy and I have known each other since we were kids. We grew up in the same neighbourhood, went to the same schools. We've always been close.” she answered, reaching for the glass of water to take an anxious sip.

Friends. It felt strange saying that now, in the mere weeks after what they’d done in Billy’s flat on that rainy evening in July. If she’d have looked closely, she would see the faint dusting of pink on Billy’s cheeks as he bowed his head.

She continued, “When I went off to university, we lost touch for several years. It was only when I returned to London that we reconnected. As for now," she concluded, her voice softening, "I consider Billy one of my closest friends. Someone I trust with my life."

The man before her nodded, his face stern. Unwavering.

"Had Mr Washington ever expressed any extreme or radical views in your presence?"

She glanced out, locking eyes with Lana across the room. As usual her expression was unreadable. And then when her eyes slid back to Billy, he looked somewhat tired, nervous that she would tell the truth, anxious it would sway the Jury's decision on Karl. But all the same, he smiled at her reassuringly, a tiny one, and nodded. It’s okay.

Inhaling deeply, she acquiesced with a firm nod, her voice resolute yet tinged with empathy. "Yes, but only once," she divulged, sensing the courtroom's collective intake of breath. "It happened after the incident with the halal butcher's window. I confronted him about his actions, and he later confessed to me that he had no real understanding of why he'd done it. I didn’t believe he was capable of genuine hatred towards anyone purely based on race, especially as he’d never had these opinions before."

A ripple of murmurs cascaded through the room, accompanied by the rhythmic scratch of pens against paper. Under the weight of the moment, she felt Billy's gaze fixed upon her, a silent plea etched in his eyes, silently beseeching her to be his beacon of hope amid the storm of uncertainty.

"Were you aware of any plans or discussions about a bomb or an attack?"

A flash of confusion passed her face before she replied, “I wasn't.”

"Can you describe in detail how Mr Washington reacted at the exact moment the bomb was found? What were his first words or actions?"

The inquiry hung in the air, weighty and demanding. She hesitated for a brief moment, gathering her thoughts, before beginning her response.

"At the exact moment the bomb was found," she began, her voice steady but tinged with emotion, "he appeared...shocked, bewildered even. His first words were, naturally, expletives, and then he attempted to get out of the car, before I stopped him."

“And why did you stop him?”

Irritation clawed at her, at the way she was being scrutinised for protecting him, “it was Lana, his sister and a member of the bomb squad, who alerted us to the presence of the bomb. She instructed us to remain in the car, and I followed her guidance to ensure our safety, and so when Billy had calmed down, we drove to Cranstead Fields at the MET’s request.”

The lawyer paused for a moment, seemingly digesting her words, before continuing with a slightly sharper edge to his voice. "So, you're saying you trusted the instructions of Lana, despite knowing there was a bomb in your vehicle?"

"Of course," she affirmed, her voice firm. "Lana is a professional, and she knows how to handle these situations. She assured us it was safer to wait for the bomb squad to come to us. In addition, as Billy’s sister, she naturally wanted to save him.”

He paused again, eyes scanning the courtroom before returning to her. "One final question for you," he said, voice steady. "At any point before this incident, did you ever witness Mr Washington associating with individuals known for radical or extremist views?"

The question hung in the air, heavy with implication. She knew the importance of her answer, aware of the delicate thread on which Billy's fate balanced. "No," she said firmly, locking eyes with the prosecutor. "Billy has always been a kind-hearted person, never one to harbour hate or engage in violence. His actions towards the halal butcher's shop were out of character, spurred by manipulation from those he thought were his friends."

The lawyer nodded, signalling the end of questioning. As he returned to his seat, the courtroom buzzed with whispered speculations and the scratch of pens on paper. The witness's testimony had painted a complex picture of Billy, one of a man caught in a web far beyond his understanding or control, a narrative that would undoubtedly play a crucial role in the jury's deliberations.

Her breath trembled as she retreated, the echo of her statement lingering like a shadow. Walking with shaky legs back into her seat, she dared a glance, eyes seeking Billy. In that fleeting moment, their gazes met, a silent exchange fraught with hope and uncertainty. And when she sat down beside him, he was quick to hold her hand, mouthing, ‘are you okay’, to which she simply nodded with a thick swallow.

She thought she was.

She had yet to spare a glance at Karl Maguire, sat in the middle of the courtroom, an impassive expression etched across his face. He sat sideways as if bored, a stark contrast to the way Lana had known him.

Everything just seemed to get more confusing after Cranstead.

Over one particular shouting match that took place in the Washington household, this time it wasn't Billy who was on the receiving end, but Lana.

When Karl was rumbled, arrested on suspicion of being The Crusader's self-appointed leader and responsible for the multiple terrorist attacks, including Nut and Billy, her parents were naturally fucking furious.

As much as they praised her for how clever she was, her dad would tail it off with ‘well this wasn't very fucking clever of you, was it. Taking a fucking terrorist to bed’.

It was horrendous to watch, nevermind to listen to. How could Lana have not seen this? Billy had been groomed by the Crusaders, yes, but so had Lana. And she had no rebuttal to any of it. She just bowed her head, admitted how stupid she felt, and her guilt was clear as day, thinking about how they could've died in that car that sunny July afternoon.

Naturally, Karl was all ‘no comment’. But the police had plenty of evidence to suggest he was associated, no less with Nick Roberts, showing a clear link from Karl not only to the Farringdon Tube Station attack, but to all the attacks that came before, and right to Billy.

Her presence in the car that fateful day enhanced the seriousness of it, as a person with no association with the Crusaders whatsoever. An innocent bystander. The lawyers took her situation and made a show of it, to convince both the Judge and Jury that this man was dangerous.

It didn't mean the Defence couldn't have a dig at the witnesses though. They'd bought up all the dirt on her and Billy that they could, focussing on Billy's extremism, without divulging the emotional manipulation that had occurred before and during that.

“I believe Mr Washington has an impact statement prepared?”

All eyes drifted from the judge towards Billy's Mum, who descended from the public gallery to appear before the court.

The usual softness Val gave off in everyday life, the look of a mother that she had so often saw, was replaced with a tight lipped scornful gaze as she glanced up at Karl and then to the paper in her hands, trembling slightly.

“Judge.

Before this incident, I led a life unmarred by the shadows of extremism and violence. I was an ordinary person, with hopes and dreams for the future. That future now feels irretrievably altered.

The day we discovered the bomb in my car marks not just a moment of terror but a fracture in the narrative of my life. The realisation that I was unwittingly made part of a plot to cause harm has left me with a profound sense of betrayal and vulnerability. My trust in others, once given freely, has been eroded by suspicion and fear.

In the aftermath, the psychological scars have been deep. Nights are the hardest; sleep has become a battleground for nightmares replaying the what-ifs. My days are punctuated by moments of panic at the slightest reminder of that day. The isolation I feel is compounded by the public's scrutiny and the stigma attached to being involved, however unwittingly, in such an event.

Professionally, the path ahead has become even more uncertain.The stigma from this case has darkened my prospects of finding employment. Already jobless, the widespread publicity now taints every attempt to move forward, casting a long shadow over my future. Relationships that I valued, with friends and loved ones, have been strained or severed, unable to withstand the whirlwind of emotions and the shadow of doubt that follows me.

But perhaps most painful of all is the impact on my relationship. We shared a bond of trust and friendship that was tested in the most harrowing way. The guilt I carry for her involvement, for the danger we faced together, is a weight that I am learning to live with every day.

I stand before you today a changed person. The future I envision now is one of rebuilding – not just my life, but my sense of self. I am committed to moving beyond this, to finding a way to trust again, to sleep without fear, and to live without the constant weight of what happened.

And most importantly to rebuild my life with the woman I love.

Thank you for allowing me to share the impact this has had on me. I trust that justice will be served, not just for me but for all who have suffered at the hands of extremism and hate.”

She felt her whole body get hot, emotions swirling like a storm inside her, raging to break free. And when Billy squeezed her hand and looked sideways at her, his expression soft and dreamy, as if he just wanted to wake up from this dreadful nightmare, she swallowed as a warm tear fell to her face.

The next few hours drained all energy out of them both. She and Billy simply remained like this, hands clasped, desperate to just get out and start fresh. And they half-listened to Lana's testimony, regarding bomb disposal and her personal history with Billy, as well as the forensic analysis and psychologists who worked to enhance the already serious nature of the trauma they had endured.

“The Jury will begin their deliberations. Court is dismissed for today. Thank you.”

Even the judge sounded tired.

The first thing she did when they were all filed out into the foyer was sink into Val’s waiting arms. There were no tears she could shed, not anymore.

“You alright?” Val whispered. And she only nodded, half-tired of the question she'd been asked non-stop since the Cranstead Fields incident. But she knew Val only asked out of love.

That pleasant warmth rolled in her gut, feeling Billy's hand at the small of her back, “d’you wanna go home?”

She nodded, “can we pop by the shop first?” She asked, “need some flowers for the grave.”

The funeral was no big service. As if she didn't have enough to deal with after Cranstead, planning this in the wake of her mother's death was just twisting the knife inside her further.

Billy, as expected, offered to take most of the emotional weight off her. After waking up in his flat the following morning, he'd barely known what to do with himself. Sure, he'd thought about this for so long, being with her. But now that it was right before him, in his grasp, he didn't know what to do with it. As if it were so precious he was afraid one wrong move would break this newly formed connection.

The day of, she'd begrudgingly met up with her extended family of whom she'd barely seen for years and years. Her mother was a solitary creature, buried deep in her addictions, it was only natural she shut herself away from her own family.

Her mother's brother was surprisingly keen to meet her though, and after the service was concluded with a speech drawn up about ‘she was a mother, a member of the community’ etc etc, she milled about the outside with Billy, making idle chat.

Her Uncle, a whole eight years younger than her Mum, was an image of what she imagined her mum could be like, had she taken help, had she taken those steps to look after herself. Her uncle was bright, happy, fit and teeming with life. It only served to supply her mind with the ‘what ifs’.

Him taking an interest in her didn't soften the blow of all their side of the family feeling like total strangers. People who hadn't seen her mother in years bloody cried, but didn't even know who she was. Her daughter was just a lingering ghost of her mother's abuse.

She invited her dad purely because she wanted to be polite. But he only showed up to pop some flowers down and gave her a nod of the head before retreating into his partner's car.

Her real family had come.

Val and Jeff were the gold stars in the weakened darkness. Making sure she was okay, asking what needed to be done. Everything. And on top of all that, Billy never once left her side, one hand perched on her hip permanently, every now and then leaning down to plant a boyish kiss to the crown of her head.

It was the only time she never felt numb.

And after the long, long day, abstaining from the offer of a lift from Val and Jeff, being much too soon after Cranstead to even think about that, Billy walked back to his flat with her hand in his, entertaining her chatter about literally anything other than her mother.

And the memory of the funeral was quickly shed past the threshold of his apartment, alongside her clothes. And the second time they ever had sex was similar to the first, minds too hazy to think about much else than just each other, and the sensations of this new, unbreakable bond.

There was a lingering sense of unease about the day. London, once bustling with life. Families, friends and people with wide smiles and bright eyes, had made way for a new era of melancholic routine. With summer drawing to a close, but the heat persisting somewhat in the clear, blue skies above, the children had all but gone back to school, and thus the crowds and tourists along with it. And without the excited squeals of children playing outside to fill the silence, all she could often hear was the low hum of traffic and the rustling of foliage in the trees above.

It was somewhat comforting.

And yet, she felt her body was tight with nerves in the weeks that followed their time in court. She willed her phone to vibrate, to finally find out.

What sentence would Karl be given? Would Billy’s involvement sway the Jury or the Judge?

Who could know.

Her eyes looked over Billy’s bowed head and sullen form as he stepped out the corner shop, having panic-bought a packet of fags to stem the rising anxiety in his system. She leant against the wall, watching as he struggled to open the pack and slide one cigarette between his lips, waiting for him to say something.

There were two reasons Billy was nervous.

“Billy, it’s gonna be fine-”

“Fuck,” he cursed, managing to light the cigarette the second time, blowing smoke between his lips and relaxing his shoulders. He raised his eyes to her then, offering her a drag, to which she shook her head and insisted she was trying to come off them. “Easy for you to say. You didn’t smash up a halal butcher’s window.”

She fought the urge to roll her eyes, “they wouldn’t have invited you if they didn’t want to make amends,” she insisted, “or me by association, for that matter.”

Billy gave her a tight-lipped smile. Lately he was never able to keep his eyes on her for long before looking away. She wished she could somehow peer into his mind, to see what mysterious things he thought about. But the truth was, now that Cranstead had really sunk in, he couldn’t shake the unwavering feeling of guilt– that she, like him, could have died because of the stupid decisions he’d made, because he was too overly-trusting. And that he had foolishly placed that trust into malicious hands.

She knew him so well. Perhaps too well. And seeing all this doubt swirl around his beautiful mind had her hand seeking his, “Hey..”

He chewed his lip, raising his blonde eyelashes to glance at her calm face.

“You can do this.”

Taking a deep breath, Billy squared his shoulders, steeling himself for what lay ahead. He knew that facing his friends would be no easy task, that their judgement and condemnation would be a bitter pill to swallow. But he also knew that he couldn't continue to hide from the consequences of his actions, that he owed it to himself and to her to confront his past head-on.

So he dropped the half-smoked ciggie to the floor and crushed it with his shoe, his longer fingers tightening around hers, “Okay. Let’s go.”

On an impromptu trip to Portugal, Libby and Abi had finally taken the leap of faith. Or rather, Abi stopped being a bit less scared of her dad, and finally proposed. Nobody was more ecstatic about it than Abi’s Mum, much to everyone’s surprise. Apparently when she found out, she cracked a few ribs with the force of the hug she gave her and stated that she had better start getting used to spicy food if she wanted to be in in.

She’d been berated with texts from the group chat, of which Billy had been removed from a few months before the wake of what he’d done, with Libby trying to organise a little barbeque to celebrate the engagement.

All of the friend group would be there. And she could feel the heavy anxiety seep off Billy the closer they became to their house.

“Ready?” she asked quietly, looking down the alleyway between houses that led to the back garden. She could already smell something cooking, the clinking of glasses and the soft, airy laughter of Libby, as well as the squabbling nature of Harry and Paddy.

Billy nodded, though his expression remained tense. He took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. "As ready as I'll ever be," he replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty.

She squeezed his hand reassuringly, offering him a small smile. "Remember, they're our friends. They care about you, too."

He managed a weak smile in return, grateful for her support. Together, they made their way down the alleyway, the sounds of the celebration growing louder with each step. As they reached the gate to the garden, she gave him an encouraging nod, silently urging him forward.

Stepping into the warm glow, Billy felt a wave of relief wash over him. Surrounded by familiar faces and the comforting buzz of conversation, he began to relax, the weight of his apprehension slowly lifting.

Libby spotted them first, her face lighting up with a bright smile as she rushed over to greet them. "You made it!" she exclaimed, enveloping them both in a tight hug. "We've been waiting for you."

She hugged Libby just as tightly, her eyes glancing over her yellow sundress and handing her a bunch of flowers as congratulations, “You look lovely.”

Libby scrunched her nose, pulling her hand into hers, semi-forcefully, “Mmhm. You, missy, have a lot to tell me.”

She couldn’t have rolled her eyes enough. Libby obviously wanted to know about that day when she and Billy…reconciled. She cringed at the thought of having to give details, “get a drink in me first.”

Feeling the semi-judgemental eyes of the lads on him, Billy swallowed, rubbing the back of his neck as sweat began to form there, “I’ll get us one,” he muttered quickly, disappearing into the kitchen, as a means to hide from the lingering glares.

“Is he okay?” Libby whispered, or rather mouthed it, so he wouldn’t hear.

“He’s nervous. Understandably.”

“Hm…so do you find out the verdict today?” Libby asked, pulling her towards the barbeque where Paddy had taken over from Abi. She only nodded, unable to shield her own anxieties, and insisted on seeing the engagement ring, both out of sheer nosiness and at a desire to change the subject.

All while Billy's hands clasped the kitchen counter tightly, the anxiety of feeling judged made his other vulnerabilities bubble to the surface. And even when he closed his eyes tightly, he could still feel the fear he had felt in the driver's seat of that car, the guilt he still feels for putting her…the woman he loved, in a position of danger.

It was nearly enough to make him break down every time.

Abi entered the kitchen to find Billy standing by the sink, his posture tense and his expression troubled. The clinking of glasses halted as Billy turned, startled by Abi's presence.

"Billy," Abi's voice was firm, tinged with disappointment. "We need to talk."

Billy's shoulders stiffened, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "Abi, I..." he began, but Abi held up a hand, silencing him.

“I won't mince words here, Billy. I am beyond fucked off at what you did.” Abi’s gaze bore into Billy's, unyielding. The weight of Abi's words hung heavy in the air, each syllable a reminder of the consequences of his actions.

"I know," Billy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I fucked up, pal..."

Abi's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding breaking through his stern facade. "Look, Billy, I get it. I understand that you were in a dark place, but that's no excuse for what you did. Yes, you’ve tested all of our trust, but you could have seriously hurt someone, mate."

Guilt gnawed at Billy's insides, a knot tightening in his stomach as he struggled to find the right words. "I know, Abi. I'm sorry," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never meant for any of this to happen. I was just...lost, you know?"

Billy's voice quivered as he continued, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. He couldn’t even really look at the man in front of him anymore, his vision was so misty.

"I have nightmares, Abi. Every night, I see her in that car, scared and vulnerable because of me," he confessed, his voice choked with emotion. "And the guilt...it's eating me alive. I can't shake the feeling that I've let everyone down, especially her."

Abi's expression softened further, a pang of empathy washing over him as he listened to Billy's words. "Mate, I can't imagine what you're going through," he said gently, his voice tinged with compassion. "But you can't let this define you, Billy. You've got to find a way to move forward, to make things right."

Billy nodded, his shoulders sagging under the weight of his burdens. "I'm trying," he said earnestly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I just don't know if I'll ever be able to forgive myself for what I've done."

Abi sighed, his gaze soft yet determined as he met Billy's tear-filled eyes. "Listen, Billy," he began, his tone firm but gentle. "I believe you when you say you're sorry, and I understand that you're struggling. But that doesn't mean you get a free pass. You messed up, mate, big time."

Billy nodded, a lump forming in his throat as he swallowed back his emotions. "I know, Abi. And I'm willing to do better," he said, his voice filled with resolve.

Abi gave him a reassuring smile. "Good," he said, clapping Billy on the shoulder. "Because we're going to hold you accountable, mate. Not out of spite or anger, but because we care about you. We want to see you learn from this, grow from it." There was a beat before a more teasing smile crept across Abi’s face, “and no more bitching and whining either.”

Billy managed a weak laugh, grateful for Abi's attempt to lighten the mood.

Abi's smile widened, the tension in the room easing slightly to make way for camaraderie. "And who knows, maybe one day we'll look back on this and laugh," he said, a hint of playfulness in his tone. "But until then, come here you mardy fucker."

As the weight of their conversation hung in the air, Abi reached out, pulling Billy into a hard and firm hug. In that moment, amidst the quiet of the kitchen, they both knew that forgiveness would be a long and arduous journey. But together, they would face it, one step at a time. As friends.

“Ummmm, Billy, that’s my fiance!” Libby shouted from the garden.

The tension broke with Libs' unexpected interruption, her voice carrying through the open door. Billy and Abi exchanged sheepish grins before stepping back from their impromptu embrace.

"Sorry about that," Billy muttered, a faint blush creeping into his cheeks as he wiped away the traces of tears.

Abi chuckled softly, a warmth settling in his chest at the sight of his friend's vulnerability. "No worries, mate," he replied, clapping Billy on the shoulder. "We've got plenty of time for heartfelt moments later. Right now, let's go join the celebration."

“Congrats, by the way.”

Abi gave him a warm smile and gestured with his head towards the two women gossipping by the sun-loungers, “you too,” he replied with a raised eyebrow.

A blush crept again to Billy’s cheek as he shoved Abi’s shoulder casually, “shut up.”

With a shared laugh, Billy and Abi made their way back to the garden, leaving the weight of their conversation behind in the kitchen. As they rejoined the group, laughter and chatter filled the air, a reminder that amidst the challenges and struggles, there was still joy and camaraderie to be found.

Under the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, the garden came alive with laughter and chatter as friends gathered around the barbecue. The smell of sizzling sausages and burgers filled the air, mingling with a summery aroma.

The other lads had given Billy a ribbing, but had very much followed in Abi’s approval, and once they too became aware that all was forgiven (pending the proof that Billy was going to do better), it was all smiles and gentle banter.

Paddy and Harry, self-proclaimed kings of the barbecue, manned the grill with gusto, though Billy couldn't help but chuckle at Paddy's attempts to get the burgers just medium well, which he was thus failing to do.

It was nice to laugh with them again, after all these months. And he felt the warm afternoon pleasant on his skin, a cold bottle of beer in one hand as he glanced over at the two girls on the other side of the garden. They sat, engrossed in conversation, probably pertaining to Libby's interest in their relationship judging by her wide-eyed expression.

He found himself trailing his eyes over her as if he couldn't believe she existed. Or rather like he couldn't believe that after everything, she was with him. It was like his heart was so swollen with love it ached.

She was like a dream, a breath of fresh air. And he had been through hell and back with her, and yet she still managed to look every bit as beautiful as the day he lost her all those years ago.

The littlest thing, from the way she slung her hair over her shoulder, to the way she readjusted the hem of her dress everytime she crossed her bare legs. Even, Billy shamefully thought, the little peek of her bare chest between the buttons at the front of her dress.

Torn from conversation, she felt her phone buzz and looked right up at him, “Billy-” she called, ushering him over.

He felt his heart go fast.

The verdict.

Libby, always the saviour, “go upstairs if you want, for some privacy.”

Hand in hand, they ascended the stairs, their hearts pounding with nervous anticipation. Squeezing into the guest bedroom, they stood close together, seeking comfort in each other's presence. Billy wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her tightly as she answered and set it on speakerphone.

“Hello?”

The solicitor's voice came through calmly, giving little indication of the news he was about to deliver. “Afternoon. I've just left court.”

“And?” Billy's voice trembled with anxiety, his grip on her tightening.

There was a pregnant pause, and she could feel the tension radiating from him.

“Three life sentences. And they're whole life orders, so he's not seeing the sun again.”

Relief flooded through them, a heavy weight lifting from their shoulders. Three life sentences meant that Karl would be behind bars for the rest of his life, never again posing a threat to society or to them. It was the justice they had hoped for, the closure they desperately needed. She felt Billy’s chest deflate, a stuttering breath leaking out with a sense of safety replacing the trepidation.

“Thank you,” she whispered into the phone, her voice choked with both emotion and happiness, her fingers shaking with excitement.

The solicitor's voice softened. “You're welcome. Take care, both of you.”

As they ended the call, a wave of relief washed over them, mingling with the bubbling excitement that their future held. She couldn't contain her joy, letting out a squeal of delight that echoed through the room, a pure expression of the happiness that coursed through her veins. Billy's heart swelled with happiness at the sound, his own relief merging with her infectious joy.

In one fluid motion, she threw her arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace that mirrored the depth of their shared elation. He wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close, as if afraid that this moment might slip away if he didn't hold on tight enough. Their laughter mingled in the air, a symphony of happiness that filled the room.

She buried her face in the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply, taking in the familiar scent that was uniquely him. It was a comforting blend of his natural scent and the faint aroma of beer, a reminder of the simple pleasures of life.

Feeling the surge of emotion coursing through him, Billy couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to express his joy in the most primal way possible. With a sudden, yet gentle movement, he tilted her chin upwards, capturing her lips in a passionate kiss that spoke volumes of his love and longing.

At first, she was surprised by his sudden boldness, but the warmth of his lips against hers quickly melted away any hesitation. She responded eagerly, her arms wrapping around his neck as she deepened the kiss, their bodies pressing together in a rush of desire and anticipation. All the pent-up emotions of the past months spilled over, their kiss grew more fervent, more urgent, as if they were trying to convey all the love and passion they felt for each other in that single, electrifying moment.

Their breath mingled in the air, coming in ragged gasps as they broke apart, their eyes locked in a heated gaze. Billy’s forehead pressed to hers as he glanced down, his hand stealing between her thighs to rub at that sensitive spot over her underwear with infuriating accuracy. Her lips parted, cheeks flushed as a bolt of desire made its way up her spine at his touch, “Billy-” she managed in a breath, voice quivering with a quiet excitement at his brazen desire.

“Fucking love you.”

When his other hand bunched her dress up, he left goosebumps on her skin, but she didn’t complain. Even though it was both incredibly risky and wrong to do this when their friends were likely waiting with bated breath downstairs, it was exhilarating to be wanted like this so desperately. And she couldn’t deny herself, with his touch igniting it, that she wanted it too. She slid her hand down his chest to his jeans and ran her palm over his rapidly growing erection, strained against the fabric, and assisted him in undoing the button.

No sooner was her hand down the front of his boxers stroking his length with a languid touch was Billy hooking her leg around his waist, pressing her back against the wall of the guest bedroom.

Their lips locked and tongues seeking each other with ragged breathing as she held on onto his shoulder to keep herself stable, only to shudder when he pulled the gusset of her underwear aside and slid into her with one confident thrust. Though aroused somewhat, the spontaneity of the tryst had her lips parting with the pleasant sting as he pushed his way into her, but it only served to heighten her desire for him.

“Fuck-”

He whispered against her lips, bottoming out with a groan inside her, one hand clamped around her leg to keep it around his waist. With every lazy thrust into her, white-hot pleasure hummed up her spine, the feeling of being stretched around him one she'd never tire of.

His breath batted against her neck, hips pushing her harder against the wall, and when she let out a moan that was far too loud for comfort, a lazy smile made its way to Billy's lips as he shushed her.

“Be quiet-”

The duality of the moment, the wholesomeness of their bond and the fact they were having a quickie here of all places made her erupt in a quiet laugh, “sorry-”

Billy laughed too, until his brows knitted together and his stomach muscles strained at the added stimulation around his length, “fuck, don't laugh-”

“-sorry.”

He surged forward to capture her lips in a searing kiss to muffle her voice, thrusting up into her with heightening intensity. And she tightened her grip on his shoulders and with a stifled moan tightened around him as well, her body trembling with climax, her skin hot and tacky from the primal energy.

She could see the strain of his muscles and how much effort it took for him to clear his mind enough to pull out of her, painting the inside of her thighs with a quiet groan.

Even in the afterglow of sex, being held by him, with his rapidly drying spend on her legs, completely out of breath, all she felt was relief and sheer happiness. And it was impossible to stop the lazy smile on her flushed face, her eyes taking every bit of his face in.

Billy closed his eyes and leaned into her hair when she brushed his moistened hair from his eyes. His lips grazed her palm, and she felt her heart squeeze.

“We should get back downstairs..” she uttered softly.

Billy let out a light laugh and lowered her, pulling his jeans back together to button them up, “right, yeah, sorry-”

She raised on her tiptoes, praising him with a quick kiss, “I'm not complaining,” she smiled, still partly out of breath, “just let me get cleaned up and we'll go down together.”

Neither did a good job of hiding the blushes on their faces as they rejoined the group outside, met with knowing glances and barely-hidden smirks, though she had fixed her hair and made sure there were no obvious hand prints on her legs.

She and Billy slipped back into the group seamlessly, their smiles bright and their laughter genuine. They shared stories and jokes, and added the result of the verdict to the reason for celebration.

Even when the sun dipped beneath the buildings, the air was warm and comforting on their skin, a feeling of contentment warmed their hearts. And every now and then, when Billy showed outward affection, with a hand on her waist or a peck to the cheek, Libby would let out a half-drunk squeal and nearly start bawling about how happy she was for them.

The group felt whole for the first time in months.

While collecting glasses and bottles, as the afternoon turned to evening, Harry elbowed Billy in the ribs, with a boyish and cheeky expression.

“Told her you love her yet?”

Billy flushed, and chanced a glance outside, where she and Libby were setting up the fire pit for the evening. For some reason, something as simple as her raising her arms to tie up her hair stirred that familiar feeling in him, the same as when he'd had her in the guest bedroom not a few hours before.

He wet his lips, and thought with an ache in his heart, that he'd always feel this way about her. And Billy finally responded.

“Something like that, mate.”

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mybiasisexo · 1 month ago

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Entangled - Part 11

Pairing: Chanyeol x f.Reader Chapter Warnings: Language Word Count: 8.1k Author Notes: DOUBLE UPDATE BICTHESSSS!!!!! ok this is my big sorry!!! i was gonna post this earlier today but then coachella happened lol and my priorities changed, but we're back!!! tbh....im so scared to post this 😀. Its just a yap fest if im being honest, so if youre not into that....my bad. but ok yes ill stop blabbin. l adore you all pls enjoy 😩

It’s another hour before you leave the restaurant, impossibly full and content.

The ride back is silent. Most of the crew pass out as soon as you’re on the road, Seulgi being one of them. She uses your shoulder as a pillow. It doesn’t look comfortable, but she’s drooling into your clavicle, so it must be. You can’t sleep, so you quietly watch the beautiful dark scenery, ignoring the occasional prickles on your skin from being watched.

Once you’re back at the hotel, you start saying your goodbyes in front of the van. Everyone’s leaving at different times, so it makes sense to do your farewells now while you’re all present.

It’s bittersweet.

Jongdae is the first to approach you, collecting you tightly into his arms.

“Tell Eunhee I missed her this weekend, and congrats,” you tell him.

“Will do and thank you.”

He squeezes the shit out of you, making you yelp in pain. In retaliation, you smack his shoulder and he hisses, escaping to the next person before you can strike again.

You’re rolling your eyes as Jongin makes his way over, chuckling at his friends’ silly antics.

“He’s mean,” you whine.

“I know,” he coos as he hugs you. You instantly relax in his comforting arms. He really should start selling these things.

“It was good seeing you,” he says, making you sway.

“You too,” you say. “I’m sorry for getting you in this mess.”

“Don’t be.” He repeats. He tightens his arms. “It was bound to happen. I still believe it can work out.”

You smile pathetically. As if he can sense it, Jongin kisses the top of your head before separating.

“Make that runway your bitch,” you tell him. He smirks and bows in thanks.

Baekhyun quickly replaces him, pulling you into a firm hug.

“You’ve made this trip far more eventful than it needed to be,” he says in your ear.

“It wasn’t my intention,” you huff into his shirt.

He chuckles. “Look, I know things didn’t end on a good note, but I promise….” He leans back far enough to look into your eyes and says your name. “It can be. Everyone deserves a second chance. Even you, okay?”

The urge to cry hits you hard and you give him a watery smile. “Thank you, Baekhyun. For everything. I’ve gained some respect for you.”

His jutting jaw is the only acknowledgement he gives your last statement. “You don’t have to thank me. I just want my friends to be happy.”

“You’re hogging her.” You’re being yanked away from Baekhyun and he lets go without a fight, waving goodbye before heading inside the hotel.

“Do we have to say our goodbyes right now?” You ask, staring up at the best friend who you aren’t going back to a shared apartment with. “I’m going to cry.”

Sehun sighs before wrapping his arms around you. “Don’t be a baby.”

You’re already fighting tears, and the lump in your throat grows larger. “I’m really going to miss you.”

“I know,” and he sounds like he’s trying his hardest not to get choked up. “I’ll miss you more. I’ll visit Seoul soon. Most likely for Jongdae’s baby shower. I'll even bring Kyungsoo. I know you’ve been curious about him.”

You laugh through your now falling tears. “It’s not me who’s been curious about your little friend. I’m sure Seulgi will be pleased to hear she’ll finally be introduced.”

“Why do you think I’ve been stalling for so long?”

You share a laugh. “Okay. Jongdae’s baby shower isn’t that far away. I can handle that.”

“That works for you?” He asks sarcastically.

“It does. Just make sure to not leave without saying goodbye again, okay?”

He groans like you’re inconveniencing him, but whispers into your hair. “I won’t.”

Satisfied, you break the hug. Now that your arms are free, you wipe your damp face, laughing at how ridiculous you are. Sehun sucks his teeth in faux disapproval. Shaking his head, he lifts a hand in an attempt to help dry your face, but you knock it away. You’re about to tell him to screw off, but you’re interrupted by the clearing of a throat.

You turn towards the sound and startle slightly when you see Chanyeol standing a few steps away. His hands are deep in his pockets as his eyes flicker between Sehun and you. It’s then you notice just how quiet the portico has become, and check your surroundings. Only the three of you and Seulgi are left outside the hotel, everyone else retiring to their rooms. Seulgi is a few feet away, as though she was also leaving but decided to linger for a bit. When your eyes lock, she throws you a knowing grin.

“Sehun,” she calls. “Let me buy you a shot.”

Sehun seems to catch on quickly. “Oh! Can’t say no to a free drink, can I?”

His eyes never leave yours as he speaks, conveying an important message. ‘Talk to him and get your closure.’

He pats you before sauntering over to Seulgi, throwing an arm around her shoulders to drag her into the hotel.

Now alone, you give in and face Chanyeol.

There isn’t a flicker of the animosity or detachment you saw on the boardwalk the night before, and you aren’t sure if that’s a good thing or not. He’s admiring you, not with disgust or lust, just looking. The lack of emotion has you curious about what's going on in his head.

“Everyone’s said goodbye except us,” he finally says.

You lift an eyebrow. “Does last night not count?”

He frowns. “Do you want it to?”

“No, it’s not that!” You quickly correct. “It’s just that my decisions always hurt you in the end, so I understand if you never want to speak to me again.”

Your eyes water at the thought of going back to strangers with Chanyeol, of losing him again. But, you know you don’t deserve to ask him to stay. If he’s done trying with you, you’ll accept it without complaint. it’s the least you can do after the pain you’ve caused him these past couple days.

He turns away from you, as if he can’t stand to see your tears. One of his hands pats at his thigh as he squints at the beach in the distance.

“We’ve both made poor decisions.” he sighs heavily. “But yesterday was really really bad. I no longer know if there can be an ‘us’ after this. Maybe you're right. Maybe we’ve grown too far apart, and the people we are today aren’t able to love each other like we used to.”

He takes a deep breath and you brace yourself for his rejection. “It wasn’t until dinner that it really hit me, that today is our last day here. I don’t want to leave, to go back to Seoul, and continue living as I did before the wedding. I can’t. Not after seeing you again. I don’t want to leave Jeju with any regrets, and if we leave things like this, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.”

“Me too,” you admit. “I’ll regret it too. I already regret so much.”

“Do you regret us?”

“No. Never. I regret where we are now, but I’ll never regret you, Park Chanyeol.”

Your throat tightens from the confession, hating how it sounds like a farewell on your tongue.

You swear his eyes gloss over, but he hides it quickly by turning his head to look behind him. When he faces you again, his features are under control. He tilts his head in the direction he just checked. “Walk with me?”

This is it, and you know it. The last chance with Chanyeol. The inevitable talk you’d been skirting around all weekend. Now is the chance to have your closure, and Chanyeol is giving it to you. If you decline, what is left of your bridge will be burnt for good, keeping you both on opposite ends with no chance of return.

You’re relieved that he offers to walk. When you imagine this conversation, it’s always in Chanyeol’s suite, and you’re honestly not strong enough to ever go back there. The memories are too fresh, and you have zero faith in your self control when it comes to him.

So, you eagerly agree to his request and follow him as he starts walking down the sidewalk. It’s silent as he leads you away from the hotel, taking a path that heads towards the city not too far away. Chanyeol’s steps seem sure, and it makes you wonder if he has a certain place in mind.

He answers your unasked question five minutes later, when you take notice of a faint glowing in the distance. Chanyeol throws a couple nervous glances your way, and the shift in his demeanor has you alert.

You walk a few more feet before you can fully see a white gazebo on the edge of the sandy beach. Golden fairy lights dangle off the sides, making a surreal romantic atmosphere.

You stop dead in your tracks. Chanyeol halts beside you, intently watching your reaction.

“Do you remember this place?” he asks, voice thick with controlled emotion.

You do.

You climb up the steps into the gazebo. A wooden bench wraps around the walls and vines with pink flowers curl around the thin poles connecting to the rounded roof. You stop a little before the center and turn to Chanyeol who stayed back, allowing you a moment to yourself.

“This is where you proposed to me.”

The lights reflect off his round eyes, softening them. Or maybe it’s the memory you both share. A day that you will never forget.

It was your senior trip. Come to think of it, there are many similarities to the one you’re currently on. All of your college friends came to Jeju and stayed at the same hotel, thanks to Junmyeon. You were in a different suite that time, with a different roommate. For five days, the gang ran around the city, exploring and partying. Basking in the last moments you all had before fully joining the real world. Well, Jongdae, Baekhyun, Junmyeon, and Chanyeol had already graduated, but that didn’t stop them from acting like it was their last moments as well. Speaking of Chanyeol, the two of you were deeply in love by that point. You were that nauseating couple that would get lost in your own little world, gravitating around each other in your own solar system. The last day of the trip, he had talked you into having a girl’s day with Seulgi. You were hesitant, because you wanted to spend the last day with him, but he assured you that you’d have him all to yourself that night.

That was enough to have Seulgi drag you around town, taking you to get pampered with a spa and convincing you to let her buy you a dress that she was adamant you had to wear later that night. Little did you know she was in on a plan being prepared behind your back.

When the sun was setting, you followed her to where you thought you were going to meet up with everyone else for dinner, and were confused when she dragged you to the middle of the beach. That was when you spotted the gazebo. There were pink and white balloons on the far side across the entrance. And in the center, dressed in a fancy black suit, stood Park Chanyeol.

You glared accusingly at Seulgi, who just laughed and shoved you into the gazebo. Your heart raced dangerously fast, nearly drowning out the speech Chanyeol prepared for you. It was beautiful. Chanyeol, ever the poet, poured his heart to you, tearing up as he explained his endless love and devotion.

Then he dropped to one knee and pulled out a ring from his pants. You’d later chastise him for not keeping it in its box. He held it up and it shimmered against the lights surrounding you, but it paled in comparison to the shimmering in Chanyeol’s eyes.

‘Will you continue to be the melody of my life’s song?’ He asked. ‘Will you marry me?’

You were screaming yes before he could finish his question. His smile was blinding as he slid the ring onto your finger and you pounced on him. He held you tightly, lifting you up with him as he stood, and buried his face into your neck as you both cried. You hadn’t noticed all of your friends poking around the outside of the gazebo, popping streamers and cheering as you held onto your soulmate and cried with a happiness and love you knew only a few people have genuinely felt. You were so lucky to have Park Chanyeol. You were so lucky to be loved by him….

You blink.

“That was the best day of my life,” he whispers.

“Mine too,” you admit.

You turn away, not able to handle the tenderness he carries.

He tentatively enters the gazebo, sitting on the bench near the entrance. “I stumbled across it after our… conversation last night. It felt fitting. A reminder of why we’re here.”

Indeed. This was the beginning of the end of you. It makes sense to end this trip here, to end your relationship here. If that’s what you were doing.

You wrap your arms around your stomach, holding yourself together because you’re already at your limit and know you’re about to shatter. Your back still faces Chanyeol, not ready to see the way the fairy lights warm his handsome face.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I should have told you where I was taking you. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” you assure. It’s not a lie, but it’s not completely true. You aren’t upset with him for bringing you here. If anything, you need to see this place. You finally turn to face him and the stark difference of how he looks now compared to the last time you saw him under this roof is startling. He wore no fancy suit, only casual khaki pants and a cream button down shirt. His hair blows gently in the breeze, longer and lighter than on that day, and his expression has lost the confidence and joy that was hard to hide then. He is now a shadow of the man that proposed to you, he is a man who has lost the one thing he thought he’d have forever. “It’s just a lot.”

He nods in agreement. “Do you want to leave?”

“No. I agree with you. This is the perfect spot. We can talk here if that’s what you want.” Again, you make sure to let him know that you’re doing this on his terms. He’s in charge here. You’ll be truthful, you’ll answer any question honestly, and you’ll let him be the one to decide how this trip ends.

“Where should we start?” he asks as you make your way over to sit beside him. You make sure to leave some space, knowing how distance can skew your train of thought around him.

“Let’s start with this,” you begin. “What do you want from this conversation?”

“I just want us to not avoid each other the next time we’re in the same room.”

“You think we can be friends?” You ask, genuinely curious of his answer.

He shrugs feebly. “If that’s all we can be. I'd rather have you in my life as a friend than not in it at all.”

You’re not a fan of his answer. Earlier, you told him that you didn’t think you could ever be his friend, and you still believe that. The thought of him actually moving on one day, and having to watch him regard somebody else the way he did you has your heart squeezing in agony. Seeing him with Yerim has been difficult as it is, imagining him with someone he actually loves leaves you disturbed.

Tell him, the Baekhyun in your head urges. Tell him how you really feel.

You already tried to last night. You still have so much love for Chanyeol, but sometimes that’s simply not enough. There’s still too much left unsaid, blocking the path to a future that can possibly end with you back together. The ball that’s always been in your court has now rolled over onto his side, and you aren’t sure if he’s going to pick it up or kick it away and finally put this long game to rest.

But he deserves that choice. Chanyeol has been so strong for you. He’s given you up multiple times, has had his heart broken because of you far more times than you have by him. You owe it to him to choose what he wants for himself. As much as you’d rather part ways on good terms and continue living as you have–without him in your life–if Chanyeol still wants you in his, you’ll suck it up and be present. Because you know for a fact that if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same with no complaint.

Still hurts like a bitch though.

Not yet, you tell your inner Baekhyun, ignoring the way he rolls his eyes. You don’t need his sass right now.

“If that’s what you want,” you push through the tightening of your throat. “Then we should start off easy. How did you end up at Junmyeon’s wedding with Yerim as your date?”

He coughs a shocked laugh. “If that’s the easiest topic, we’re going to be here til the sun rises.”

You shrug a shoulder. “That’s fine with me.”

He watches you for a moment before dropping his head to look at his hands that lay limply between his parted thighs. “As soon as I got Junmyeon’s announcement, I thought of you. I knew you were going to be there, and I couldn’t shake this feeling that you were going to bring a date. The idea of seeing you being happy with your new boyfriend, while I had no one, made me sick. I began to panic, because I didn’t want to be the loser who hadn’t moved on. I wanted you to think I no longer cared. I needed a date.”

That makes you pity him a bit, and you feel bad for calling him an asshole. The intentions behind it are anything but. He was trying to protect himself, and that’s nothing to make fun of.

“And then you met Yerim.”

“And then I met Yerim.” He sinks further into the bench and your ears perk at the name. It hits you then that it’s the first time you’ve heard Chanyeol speak her name. Was he being respectful towards you by neglecting to voice the name of the ‘other’ woman in your picture? Or maybe that was his poor attempt at pretending she didn’t exist while in your presence. Intrigued, you study the way the syllables left his mouth. It’s said with contrition, and that jealous part of you that you’re surprised to still find vanishes with content.

“I don’t know if you remember,” he continues, unaware of the healing already being done to you. “But she works at the cafe near my job. If I’m being honest, I’d been going there for months and hadn’t paid her any mind. I just knew she made the best Americano I’ve ever had in my life! But, after some time, it was kind of obvious she had a little crush on me. Although I was flattered, I never pursued it because I was never interested. That didn’t stop her from being bold. She always made a point to have a conversation with me, even when they were slammed, and I guess she wore me down. Our little talks started becoming the highlights of my days, and I started paying her more attention.”

His story brings to mind a few times Yerim mentioned a cute customer to you. How wild is it that Chanyeol is the customer she’d always tell you about.

“She is funny,” you acknowledge begrudgingly. “And pretty.”

“She is,” he agrees, and you guess your jealousy hasn’t vanished after all. “But, that’s not what ultimately drew me to her.”

“What was it then?”

He avoids your gaze. “She reminded me of you.”

“Oh!” Okay, now your jealousy is officially gone.

“Yeah. Oh. The more Yerim and I talked, the more she sounded like you. Now it makes sense, because you’re close friends so you must’ve rubbed off on her. But, at the time, it really felt like I was getting a second chance. How could I not fall for her when she acted so much like you?”

Your eyebrows raise at that. You’ve never noticed your influence on Yerim, but apparently it’s strong enough to catch your ex’s attention. In a strange way, you are the reason they got together. You’re not sure how to react to the fact. Part of you is sympathetic towards them both, at the fact Chanyeol only liked Yerim because of you. But you’re also flattered and a bit proud for ruining him so much.

Even though you think you know the answer, this conversation is all about honesty, so you have to confirm something. “Did you like her? Like that? You’ve been pretty adamant about her not being your girlfriend.”

“She wasn’t,” he’s still quick to deny. “And I didn’t. At the start I thought I did. Well, I thought I could fall for her. Maybe if we had time before the wedding to actually get to know each other outside of the cafe, I would have. But the timing was bad. She tried, she really did. But I was too distracted by what was about to happen to give her my full attention, and once I saw you, all thoughts of Yerim went out the window.”

“That’s why you kicked her out?”

“It is. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.” He backtracks, continuing his story where he left off. “The main reason for me being so adamant on bringing a date was to prove to everybody, including myself, that I was completely over you. But, the fact that I started pursuing someone because they reminded me of you should have been the first sign I wasn’t. Still, I ignored it, and when the wedding got brought up, I saw my perfect opportunity. She agreed all too easily.”

“Like fate.”

“It felt like that. Like it was too perfect. Baekhyun said it was a dumb idea. He told me I wasn’t going to get you back that way. I told him I didn’t want you back. As you can imagine, he didn’t believe me.”

“Did you even believe you?”

“I did,” he defends, slightly offended. “I thought enough time had passed, and thinking about you didn’t hurt as much as it had. Sure, I didn’t know if I was capable of ever loving someone as much as I loved you, and I had built some walls after us, but I was ready to try again. And I was going to prove it during dinner. I wanted to make you feel the same as I did. I figured we both could suffer a little, and I…I wanted to hurt you. But, even though I knew you were going to be there, I still wasn’t prepared for the shock of finally seeing you in person. All that bravado I had vanished the moment I saw you. Especially after I realized you did not, in fact, have a date.”

“Technically, I did,” you correct. “Seulgi was my date.”

“Should I have been worried about her?” he asks skeptically.

You can’t miss the opportunity to tease him. “A lot can happen in a couple years. Who knows? We could’ve been inlaws.”

His face pinches in disgust. “That’s a sick joke, Me….”

He lets the petname die on his tongue, unsure if that’s something he still wants to call you.

“I deserve that,” you mumble and attempt a reassuring smile. He takes one look at your stretched lips and immediately starts nervously nibbling on his own. You sense his internal battle, fighting the instinct to defend you while also agreeing with what you said.

The light atmosphere you created dissipates as quickly as it comes.

He clears his throat. “Anyways, that’s why I brought Yerim. I wanted to get a reaction out of you.”

“And did you get the reaction you wanted?” You ask.

“In the grand scheme of things, I guess I did. But at the moment, I didn’t think so. It felt more like it backfired on me. That whole dinner I tried to taunt you by using Yerim, but you never took the bait. You didn’t care at all. That hurt more than I’d like to admit. Especially because your presence was eating me up inside.”

“I’m a better actress than I give myself credit for if you couldn’t see how affected I was. I pretty much went through exactly what you were afraid of happening to you, with an extra brutal layer of personally knowing the date. Trust me when I say you succeeded.”

“It doesn’t feel like a victory,” he shares. “As soon as dinner was over, I realized Baekhyun was right, bringing Yerim was dumb. I was overwhelmed with all these old resurfacing feelings, and all I could think about was you. How was I going to see you again, and what would I say when I did. I made some pretty rash decisions, like kicking Yerim out of our room because I didn’t want you to think we were sleeping together, and then forgetting to have breakfast with her the next morning like I promised because I talked to you the night before. Our conversation was proof that I wasn’t alone in these old feelings, and gave me the courage to attempt to pursue you. It wasn’t a lot, and you were really drunk, but you kept giving me this look I was very familiar with, and I couldn’t deny it if I tried.”

“A look?” You question, having no idea what he’s referring to. He’s never told you about a look before.

“Yes.” He sounds tortured thinking about it. “You get this look on your face whenever you want me to lean down to kiss you. These past few days, we’d argue, you’d tell me how wrong this situation was, and then you’d stare up at me with those eyes of yours. I could never forget that expression, it’s one of my favorites. So, I’d try to oblige you, and at the last second, you’d push me away, and I’d go back to my room and yell in frustration. It was frustrating, knowing you still wanted me, even if you weren’t aware of it, all because of the way you’d look at me.”

Hell. He really can read you like a book.

“So, you ended things with her because of the way I was looking at you?” You confirm.

“I broke up with Yerim because I was leading her on,” he corrects. “But also, I can admit that I was being selfish, and she was in the way of what I truly wanted. You. I knew with her out of the picture, you’d be less…resistant.”

“What did you expect would happen?” You implore. “You’d tell me you broke things off with her and I’d come running back into your arms? Was that the plan?”

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly. “Maybe that you’d lower your guard and stop fighting me. But, I mean, you did run back to me not long after she left….”

You narrow your eyes. “That was because of the wedding.”

“I thought we were being honest with each other?”

That shuts you up. He knows he got you there, if the smug look on his face is any indicator.

“Fine,” you relent. “I most likely wouldn’t have done that had Yerim still been here.”

He bows his head in gratitude for your honesty.

“Alright,” you drawl, fiddling with your fingers. “It’s your turn to ask me a question.”

Chanyeol inhales deeply, and you know it’s going to be a difficult one.

“Last night,” he starts, and you already dread what’s next. “You said that you couldn’t get over what happened the last time we were together.”

“I did.”

“It made me realize that I hurt you way more than I thought I did. You’d mentioned it a couple times, but I didn’t get it… not until now.”

“I may have called off the engagement,” you say. “But it was you, Chanyeol, who ultimately broke us up.”

“Is that how you see it?” He asks, a darkness creeping into his tone.

“How else am I?” You retort. “I asked to get back together and you said yes.”

“I didn’t realize….” He shook his head in denial. “I wasn’t listening.”

“I gathered,” you scoff, growing irritated. “That day I had worked up the courage to call you. It had been a year since we’d last seen each other–”

“Ten and a half months. But who’s counting?” he cuts you off to say.

“Ten and a half months,” you correct. “I felt so stupid because of that. I made such a big show of leaving you, just to beg for you back not even a year later.”

“I wouldn’t have seen it that way,” he says. “I was waiting for that call. To me, those ten and a half months felt more like years.”

“I wish I’d known that then, because I was so nervous. I feared the worst. That you would be angry at me for ending things just to come back so soon. Or worse. That you’d somehow moved on during that time, or realized that you were no longer in love with me. It was that fear that drove me to come up with a cover, an excuse to get you to come over.”

“The ring,” he realizes, jaw clenching at the grim reminder.

“Yeah,” you confirm. “I had it all planned out. I’d tell you that you needed to come over so that you could take it back, but then I’d confess and ask for another chance.”

“You could’ve just told me you missed me,” he says. “It would’ve been just as effective. Actually, more. I would’ve been there faster.”

“I couldn’t just tell you that,” you explain. “I didn’t want to come off desperate. But, I admit, using the ring was the worst thing I could’ve done. I swear I had no intention of giving it back.”

“You were very convincing in acting like it was,” he mutters. “I didn’t even have time to ask how you’d been before you were sitting it on the table. I was hoping you weren’t being serious. But as soon as I saw you, it was obvious you’d changed. It hadn’t been that long, but you were different. You didn’t want me anymore.”

“I didn’t need you anymore, Chanyeol. I still wanted you, if later that night was any indicator.”

“You couldn’t stop raving about how much better your life was now that I was no longer in it! I had to listen to you go on and on about your great new life without me, all while staring at your engagement ring. It was the first time I’d ever seen it not on your finger, and it felt like a punch to the damn gut! My heart was breaking all over again, but there was no hope to latch onto this time.”

His words are enlightening. Despite your attempts at blocking the memory, you remember that night in great detail. You remember how sweaty your palms were from the nerves, to the point you couldn’t even hold a glass of water. You remember the wave of relief that swept over you when you opened the door to see Chanyeol on the other side. You remember his expression, the conflicting emotions of love and hope, battling against reluctance and defeat. Putting the ring on the table was also due to nerves. You wanted to keep pretenses for a little longer, but the way he had zeroed in on the piece of jewelry worried you so much you began rambling.

He never took his eyes off that ring. You remember that clearly. It made you panic, and in a poor attempt to fill the silence, you started updating him on your life. You told him about the job you had just gotten that you’d been dying to get, about your hesitant plans on moving in with Seulgi, about the trips you had taken, anything to get him to react. He didn’t. By that point, you decided to get to the main reason for inviting him. You remember easing into it, telling him you had a lot of time to think about what you wanted in life, and had succeeded in your mission to find yourself. You were ready, if he was still willing. You were ready to become his wife.

He didn’t say anything. Hadn’t moved an inch.

You were positive he hadn’t blinked once during your monologue. Was he angry? Of course he was! That’s when you realized you’d made an irreversible mistake and was now living through the consequences. Maybe he didn’t want you back. Maybe you put too much faith in his love for you. Now looking back on it, you felt a lot like you do at this moment. If Chanyeol was done with you, you’d let him leave. You were going to put him first this time.

‘Chanyeol?’ you called gently. That seemed to bring him back. His eyelids fluttered and he straightened in his chair, pulling away from the ring to finally look at you. You were mesmerized by the richness of his eyes, they were prettier than you recalled, but maybe that was the unshed tears reflecting off the lights overhead. His mouth had fallen open, eyebrows lifted in a question, and you cleared your throat and forced yourself to blink, to break the intimate contact.

‘Are we good?’ You asked, voice shaking in apprehension. You were terrified of his answer, terrified of this being the end of you. Yet, you were prepared for rejection.

‘Yeah, we're good,’ he said. Not expecting that, you stared at him in shock for a moment until reality hit. He was taking you back! Instantly, you felt silly for doubting him. Of course he was taking you back. He already told you that he’d always love you. Feeling giddy with excitement, you weren’t even thinking when you reached out to him….

“I didn’t….” Chanyeol seems to also be back in that living room, reliving that dreadful day. “I couldn’t listen to you brag about your newfound happiness. It was like you were trying to hurt me. So, I stopped listening. Next thing I knew, you’re saying my name and like an idiot, I look at you. You asked me if we were good. I was confused, because you were obviously nervous, but I assumed you just wanted to leave on good terms. So, I agreed. ‘Sure, we’re good’.

….And then you kissed him.

“And then you kissed me.” His eyebrows furrow in the confusion he still feels. “And nothing else mattered after that. Not the ring, not the break up. Just you.”

Chanyeol gives you a Look of his own, and the moment turns tender.

Except all those feelings from the morning after bubbled up to the surface, and you despise the softness of his gaze.

“That was until the morning, right?” You say bitterly. “Then I didn’t matter at all.”

“That’s not–”

“You left me!” You snap. His mouth audibly shuts at the rise of your voice. “You agreed to get back together, had sex with me, disappeared in the morning, took the ring, and blocked me on everything so that I couldn’t get ahold of you! You claim it was because you were afraid of being used, but that’s what you ended up doing! You used me, Chanyeol, and I haven’t been the same since. You destroyed me! ”

“I didn’t use you!” He pleads. “Stop looking at me like that. You told me you didn’t hate me.”

“I don’t,” you say. “I’m just trying to understand. Was it one last fuck for old times’ sake?”

“God, no! Don’t say it like that. I’ve never ‘fucked’ you. That’s not what that night meant to me.”

“Then what did it mean?” You beg for answers. “If it wasn’t your get back, if it wasn’t you confirming our relationship. What the fuck did it mean to you?”

He meets your gaze, determination igniting within him. “It meant everything to me! That kiss may have felt like the beginning to you, but for me, it was an ending. And I had something to prove. If that was going to be our last night together, I was going to give you every last piece of me. I wanted you to feel my love deep inside your bones, so that you could never forget what it felt like to be truly loved by me. I wanted to ruin you, so that any man that touched you after would pale in comparison. I wanted you to yearn for me on lonely nights, to miss me even if it was a fraction of the loss I was going to feel. I wanted you to still want me.”

Your breathing hitches at his explanation, because you’d be damned if that’s not exactly what he did. Your body awakens from his words, desperately calling for him the way it always has. You battle with the need to pull him close and have him sink into your soul. He made sure to leave his mark on you that night, to carve a hole deep within your heart that could never regrow. You’ve felt that emptiness since, carried it unknowingly. And now that you’ve been reunited, you see that he still holds that chunk with him. Chanyeol still possesses the missing piece to your heart.

The fire inside him seems to diminish once his speech is done. Now guilt slumps his shoulders and lowers his head.

“That morning….” He licks his dry lips. “It was a lapse of judgment.” You can’t help but wonder if he’s told himself this multiple times throughout the years to rationalize his decision. “Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my entire life. You have to believe me. It took everything to get out of your bed, everything to touch that ring. Everything to leave your life for good.”

“But I didn’t want you to,” you confess, on the verge of tears.

“I know,” he whispers, eyes just as glossy as yours. “I know that now. But, at the time, it was too impossible a dream to even fathom. I had to protect my heart too, you know?”

You did. He had every right to keep his guard up, even if it was at the detriment of your own feelings.

“And trust me when I say,” he continues. “I suffered too. I hated myself just as much as you did. I still do. Knowing that I broke you so badly…. I can’t even put into words how sorry I am. The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you.” He says your name. “That night was no exception.”

“You literally just said that you brought Yerim to hurt me,” you point out with a sniff.

“Right.” He winces. “But, that’s the only time, I swear!”

He reaches for your hands and you let him hold them. They’re big and warm and the contact soothes you. “Had I known…. Had I listened to you that night, I would have never left. If I knew that kiss meant so much more than a goodbye, we would’ve been married the next week. It’s my fault for not listening and for leaving without an explanation. I hurt us both that day. I’ll accept that now. I’m so fucking sorry, Mel.”

Him calling you Mel again is enough to make you finally shatter. Leaning against him, you press your forehead to his chest as sobs rack your own. He pulls you into his arms, rocking you back and forth as apologies fall from his mouth. You can hear the tears he sheds.

You both cry until you’re dried out, and as the gazebo quiets Chanyeol still holds you.

Once you’ve collected yourself, you speak through a stuffy nose. “I’m sorry too.”

Chanyeol stops swaying at the sound of your voice, so you continue. “I held a lot of animosity for what you did, but I ended up doing the same thing to you.”

“You were confused–”

“It’s no excuse. I left because I was scared, but I still hurt you.” You pull back so that you can show him your sincerity and finally own up for the things you did. “I’ve been playing with you this whole trip, because of my indecisiveness. I’ve been leading you on for days, pushing and pulling away, and you don’t deserve that. No matter our past, you don’t deserve to be treated the way I’ve been treating you.”

“Thank you,” he accepts with a sniff.

“No, thank you,” you counter. “For explaining yourself, and for giving me a chance to explain myself as well. You didn’t owe me anything after what I did to you.”

“You didn’t do anything–”

“You don’t have to protect me anymore, Chanyeol. We’re past that now, aren’t we?”

He grows contemplative at that. “After our night together, much like when you kissed me all those years ago, I assumed we were back together.” As he speaks, he dries your wet face with his hands. You close your eyes, savoring his touch just in case it’s the last. “So when you denied it at the beach, I was hurt. I didn’t understand your reluctance, and I couldn’t figure out what was so wrong with me that you kept rejecting me. It wasn’t until after our fight, when I kept pushing and pushing and yet you still didn’t want me, that I took off the rose tinted glasses and reality set in. Seeing you again, at the place where our love was at its peak, it was easy to forget all the ways we went wrong. You were back in my life, and that was the important part. In my mind, we’d figure everything else out later. Because of that, I didn’t take your feelings into consideration, and I was moving way too fast. I guess, deep down, I knew that I had fucked up and was trying to make up for it. But you weren’t ready, and let's be honest, I’m not ready either. I thought about your offer to give it some time once we’re back in Seoul to separate the past from the present. I’d like to take you up on it, if it still stands.”

You’re relieved to know he finally understands what you were trying to explain to him yesterday. That it wasn’t necessarily a no, just a not-right-now.

“I would like that,” you admit.

You both smile at each other, taking in the other unabashedly in your safe space. You catch him glance down at your lips and pout. “Unfortunately, I don’t think I’ll ever not be attracted to you. Is that bad?”

You can’t help but laugh. “I think this trip is proof of how bad it can be, but I feel the same regardless.”

He lets out a sigh full of longing, and nervous about the changing atmosphere around you both, you speak. “Let’s make it a pact then. After we leave tomorrow, we’ll continue living as we had before the wedding, and after some time has passed, we’ll meet up and decide if this is something we actually want to try again, or if we should officially move on.”

“How long?” He asks.

You hum as you think of what a good enough time could be. “Jongdae’s baby shower is in four months. Do you think that’s enough time?”

His eyes take on a familiar shimmer. “I think it’s perfect.”

Chanyeol gets to his feet and pulls you up onto yours. You expect him to start walking back, but instead he pulls you deeper into the gazebo, until he’s standing in the center.

“How did I do it again?” he mumbles before sinking onto one knee, and your heart lurches into your throat.

“Chanyeol, what are you doing?” You choke.

He holds your left hand, thumb sliding over where your engagement ring once sat. He lifts his head to gaze up at you, and the fairy lights ahead douse him in a golden hue, sparkling in the dark depths of his soul. He now fully embodies the man he was four years ago, and you have a hard time differentiating what year you're in.

Your full name falling from his lips makes you focus on the present. “The last time I was here, I proposed to you, so it’s only fitting I do it again. I’m sorry, but I don’t have a ring this time.”

“Probably for the best,” you wheeze, still overwhelmed.

“Tonight, I’m proposing a deal. That we leave here and figure our shit out, and on the day of Jongdae’s baby shower, we will come to an agreement on how we will pursue this relationship. We will decide to either date again, stay strictly platonic, or become nonexistent. Do you agree to the terms?”

“Yes.” You agree.

Chanyeol smiles largely, and pretends to put a ring on your finger before kissing it. “Then it’s a deal.”

With that, he stands up and you look at him expectantly.

“There’s that look,” he whispers before obliging your unspoken request by leaning down to kiss you.

You kiss as though it’s the last time you ever will, savoring the other and indulging in such a forbidden touch. Whenever you think Chanyeol’s about to break it, he merely tilts his head the other way to deepen it and you giggle and fall right back into your perfect rhythm. A slow warm heat builds from your core, up to your chest, to burn in your throat. Surprisingly, it’s not arousal. It’s something more grounding, more brittle. It’s affection, it’s grief.

It’s love.

The two of you pull apart eventually, staring deep into each other’s eyes as you attempt to catch your breaths.

“There,” Chanyeol says, voice gravelly and deep, as though he just woke up. “Sealed with a kiss.”

You’re smiling, and it all feels so bittersweet, you think you may also be crying again.

“I….” Chanyeol brushes your hair back. Whatever he’s about to say–and you have a suspicious feeling you might know what it is–he decides to keep to himself. Instead, he presses another kiss to your forehead and untangles himself from you. “Let’s go back. I have an early flight.”

The walk to the hotel is peacefully silent. You don’t hold hands or anything, but you’re close enough to have your arm brush his occasionally. When you’re in the elevator, you stand on opposite sides of the cart, just as you had a couple nights ago. He’s smiling at you, and it’s so sweet and boyish, you can’t help but smile back. The action makes his smile grow wider.

When you’re deposited onto your floor, he walks you to your door.

“Sorry for all the drama,” you say as you dig for your room key.

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” He grins at you, nudging your shoulder with his arm.

Opening the door, you pause and turn to him. He meets your gaze expectantly.

“See you at the baby shower?” You ask anxiously.

He nods. “I’ll see you at the baby shower, Mel.”

Reassured, you head inside, closing the door quietly behind you. Your heart is pounding a million miles a second, and you take a moment to calm it down with deep breaths. It doesn’t help much. You’re too excited. You’re…hopeful. You know that whatever you decide on the day you see Chanyeol again, he’ll be on the same page.

You finally got your closure, and are now ready for a new chapter, with or without him. And that doesn’t scare you nearly as much as it had this morning. You’ll never let him know, but Sehun was right. The talk was much needed.

You get ready for bed, and take in the room you spent some of the most stressful days in. You find you’re going to miss this place. Maybe next year you can book the same room, you think as you crawl into bed and fall into a peaceful slumber, knowing all but one of the knots in your rope have finally been untangled.

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websterss · 2 years ago

Text

DATING TEDROS PENDRAGON INCLUDES…

REQUEST: I was wondering if I could request a Tedros x afab reader headcannons for dating! It could go in any way you like!

WARNING(S): none. fluff.

PAIRING: Tedros Pendragon x afab!Reader

A/N: Hope you enjoy it! <3 Feedback is always welcomed!

MASTERLIST

At first, you had no interest in the future prince of Camelot. Too busy and too unbothered to pay the boy any mind. You mostly kept to your books, nose delved deep into an enchanting love story that seemed too good to be true. But these were your history. All the fairytales and love stories that your mother told you to help you sleep, were all written within the pages your eyes scanned, and fingers glided down. They were far more interesting than that of King Arthur’s son.

Tedros started to finally take notice of you one day, eyes shifting onto your figure that sat alone in a corner table during breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Each time you got up to leave the great hall. His eyes would trail after the swift movements of your gown swaying side to side with each step you took.

You intrigued him. You had him wondering why you appeared to be the only one who didn’t fawn over his looks, his title, or who his father was.

Why did he only just start to see you? He pondered whether you were new but you weren’t. You had been there just as long as the rest of the Evers were.

His guilty conscience made him feel bad for never knowing your name. Knowing who you are because you appeared to be a wonderful soul.

It made him question so many things. So he set out to befriend you.

It first began with the introduction of one another. He hoped you would shake his extended hand but you only set your book down and stared quizzically at him. An eyebrow raised at his odd behavior.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve formally met-“

“We have.” You cut him off bluntly. Tedros winces and retracts his hands.

“W-We have?”

“Yes.” You blink expressionless at him.

“I don’t believe so. I would’ve remember a pretty face such as yours-“

“Well, you didn’t. Otherwise you would’ve remembered that you bumped into me on the first day, told me to watch where I was going. Quite the impression you’ve set…” You gave him a light tip smile.

His face falls. Mouth opening and closing, in hopes to make things right. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t-“

The hand you raise cuts him off. You save the poor boy from embarrassing himself. “No need to apologize. All is forgotten.”

“What about…forgiven?” He looks up through his eyelashes with hope.

“I suppose that depends on how you make this interaction.” You smirk. Then avert your eyes back onto your book. This causes him to smirk.

“May I sit?” He gestured to the chair beside you. You meet his gaze, pursing your lips in thought. Then turn to your book.

“No.” You want to laugh at his puzzled face.

“No?” He scoffs, but laughter follows after. “Are you reserving these chairs for someone then?” He teases, gesturing to the vacant table and chairs around you.

“No…” You chew your bottom lip. To keep from laughing.

“Well, then how come I can’t sit?”

“I didn’t think you’d want to spoil your image.” You shrug.

“Is that what you’re concerned about? My peers seeing me being social?” He claimed the chair to the left of you.

“I thought of it as more of you being concerned. We don’t exactly sway in the same social group.” Your eyes vacantly flicker to the table a few feet down from your shadowed one in the dark. They seemed to be casting snickers and judgemental glances towards you, or rather where Tedros’s attention was on.

“Then allow me to be the first to be in yours...” You grow flustered with a loss for words. You scoff out a laugh, then finally set your book faced down. You extend your hand and he gladly accepts it. Shaking yours with a firm but gentle grip.

“I don’t believe I got your name, my lady.”

“That’s because I never gave it.” You smirk. He mirrors it.

“You’re gonna make me work for it...I assume.” He lets his head fall.

“In due time...You’ll learn to love rewards.” You tease and rise to leave. He follows suit and stands up beside you.

So it began. A love story in the making. One slow, but rather enchanting, and endearing. You knew you were being unfair, gatekeeping your name, but your heart fluttered each time he put in the effort to get to learn one new fact about you. One new trait or scrunch or twitch of your nose or hands. The journey to get to know all of you was one challenge he was willing to face.

You didn’t exactly make it easy on him now either.

It took him a while but as soon as he found out where you liked to spend most of your free time. He had a hard time leaving you alone. Your peace was disrupted by his charming grin, and loud persona. Not that you minded though, the distraction was rather appealing to look at.

“Thought I’d find you here.” You squint up, the sun half in your eyes. You lift your hand up to your face to cast a shadow over your eyes. Once you finally reel in on who approaches you, you roll your eyes. Though it was hard not to know who came trollying about. He was too loud to miss.

You shrug, gesturing to the tree you were leaning back against. A green flower embroidered blanket laid out underneath your gown. Your slippers slipped off to help you find comfort more easily. Though your desire for peace and quiet was long forgotten as the prince himself plopped down onto your blanket. He laid on his side, a cheesy smile casted your way. You tried hard to fight your own, but your teeth peeked out from your lips.

“It’s Saturday.” You go back to reading the page you were on.

“Yes I know.” He nods. “As opposed to yesterday being Friday, where you picnicked by the wishing pond. Though you never wish for anything.” He quietly mutters, like he was telling you a secret. It was true though. After learning the history behind the pond due to Agatha saving that poor girl and freeing her from her captivity. You refused to partake in any wish making. “Only sit and ponder-”

“And read my book.” You finish for him. “I see you’ve been paying attention, but what about tomorrow? Where might you find me then?”

“Well, it’d be Sunday. Some princesses might find themselves at the great hall looking out for a prince...” He trails off. His hands tracing over an embroidered pattern on the hem of your dress. He smiles as you tuck your feet in, letting your dress swallow their visibility.

“But?” You eye him over the top of your book. He meets your eyes for a fleeting second then looks away, his face flushes red.

“But not you. I’ll find you in the library. Tucked away in the farthest corner from eyesight...You think you’re well kept hidden from sight, but I spot you right away.”

Your face becomes visible as you lower the book down onto your lap. Your eyes soften. “You see me?”

“I do.”

You gain the trouble to suddenly breathe correctly. Tedros subconsciously reaches for your hand. A tingle runs up and down your spine upon his light touches. He smooths his fingertips over your own. You gasp as he sits up tall. Your book falls carelessly onto the blanket as you watch him inch closer. Closer than he’s ever been. You catch his eyes flickering down to your lips, then up to your eyes, begging for you to allow him to press a kiss onto your lips. A plea more like it as he turns into a puddled mess. He breathes out a laugh as he reaches up to cup your face. He pressed his head against yours.

“I’m gonna kiss you now.” A faint nod from you was all he needed to proceed. His lips felt soft against yours. Yet the way he held you. Cupping your face, thumbs caressing your skin delicately. Holding you gently like you were a flower in a meadow, hoping not to be stepped on and ruined.

When he asked you to be his princess. You had said yes.

As much as you enjoyed being Tedros’s friend. There was something about being his girlfriend that brought out a side to you, one you never imagined you’d have.

Call it jealousy, perhaps troubled doubts. They were all there, but as scared as you felt. You revel in the small things. The way he reaches for your hand when seated during assemblies. How his eyes search for yours in the great hall. How he brings your hand up to place a kiss upon them. How he tries to sneak you out for a stroll in the gardens.

You’re quite fond of the memories of your dates at the wish fish pond. You could still feel the gentle grip on your chin as he turned your face to kiss you gently, leaving you breathless each time.

Your timid giggles were enough to have him groan in delight. You made his heart soar. He was in awe of your beauty, your laugh, your affectionate smile. The way your kisses lingered as well that he’d chase your lips each time you pulled back with a smirk.

Though he too had his own troubled doubts. That he’d wake up from a dream, and you’d have only been a part of his imagination. He was scared shitless. Incredibly so that one night during your date by the pond, he dipped his finger into the water. You laughed at his antics, telling him from where you sat on your blanket, that the wishfish only showed you what you most desired, that the fish couldn’t really grant him the thing he wanted most. It was something he had to make happen himself.

So that’s what he had set his mind to afterwards.

He fully believed that you coming into his life was no coincidence. He had never felt as connected to someone as he had with you. It was almost like...

Like you were his true love. And he didn’t waste time to tell you either.

It had been the night of the Evers Snowball.

When you hadn’t arrived into the great hall. He left to find you watching the snow fall through the high raised arched windows. Though he stopped a few steps away from you. He hadn’t seen your pretty gown yet. A soft baby blue matching his own royal jacket. You had heard his familiar footsteps before you even turned to see that it was him.

“I understand why they called it the Evers Snowball now.” You giggled. You then turned to face him with a beaming grin. “Hard to believe since it was clear blue skies and puffy white clouds yesterday. Though this is a magical school. Nothing’s ever impossible.” You stepped forward. Offer your hands for him to grab. He smirked because you were in fact right. He curls his fingers into your palm. Your hands curl into each other. Your smile remains as you try to meet his eyes. Head tilting in confusion as to why he wouldn’t meet your gaze. He turns to eye the falling snow.

Quite the perfect evening. A magical aura wrapping itself around you both. This moment with you truly felt like one from a well known fairytale. Though Tedros knew as much this would be your own fairy tale to tell in the future.

“Tedros?”

“Mmm.” He turned his head to meet your eyes now. He chewed on his bottom lip as he hummed in thought.

You only laughed. “You okay?”

“I’m great!”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. It’s all perfect. Being right here with you.”

You only rolled your eyes thinking he was trying to be a sap again. You playfully slap his shoulder clad with blue epaulets.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s head back to the great hall, no? I’m in the mood for a dance to be honest.” You breathe out a laugh. You pass him with a hand on his shoulder. You had taken a few steps forward only to look back to see his back turned to you. You halt and frown. “Tedros?”

“No.” He shakes his head. Your heart skips.

“No?”

“No. Let’s not head back just yet.” He turns around to face you.

“Okay...” You step closer. “We can stay here for a bit if you prefer.”

“No I do- I do want to head back, but I just. There’s something I’ve been wanting to do...” You raise a brow at him confused. You open your mouth to ask what he wants to show you, but your only left gaping as he lowers himself onto one knee. “Well...ask you really.” He laughs out nervously. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a black velvet box. You were all too familiar with these kinds of scenarios. What surely was a ring beneath the closed lid didn’t pass you. You place your hand over your mouth in shock. Your other hand holds your stomach. You were thankful at that moment, you hadn’t eaten dinner yet.

“Tedros-” You begin but he cuts you off.

“B-Before you say anything. I just want you to know that you are sure not like anybody I’ve ever met before. Until I got to really know you. I had no faith in falling in love because of what happened with my father and mother. In fact the concept of love scares me. It still does...” He gives a faint smile, one you reciprocate lightly. “But if there’s one thing I’m positive about is that you’ve made me want to be better. Make me want to see the world for more than just black and white, for more than just evil and good. You’ve been a wonderful best friend, but you have been the best love I’ve ever had.” He pops open the small box. You cry out a laugh. Tears brimming your eyes. “My true love.”

“True love?” Your eyes widened.

“You are my one true love. I believe that this, right here. You and me. Us. It’s meant to be, that the universe brought us together, and if that’s not true then I don’t know what to believe in anymore because I can’t imagine my life without you. You, Y/n, are my one true love, and I’ll be damned if someone who’s writing our story thinks otherwise.”

You were a crying mess at this point. You tilt your head, a beaming smile on your lips as you look down at him on a knee before you.

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?” You breathe a laugh out. Tedros lets a tear slip down his cheek, his charming smile gracing you.

“I’m getting to it!” He laughs.

“Sorry...go on.” You composed yourself. Nodding and gesturing to continue. You couldn’t stifle your laughter though.

“Will you marry me?” He takes the ring out of the box and gestures it to you. “Be my ever after?”

“Yes!” You beam. Gently cupping his face, and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. He slips the ring onto your ring finger and stands to his full height. Cupping your face this time and pressing a hard but slow kiss on you.

“She said yes!” Multiple cheers and hollers startle you, causing you to pull away and look back towards the great hall entrance doors.

You scoff out a laugh seeing multiple Evers, a few buddies of Tedros, and surprisingly a few Ever girls. Applauding you and Tedros.

You look back to him, a cheesy smile on your face now, as your hands slide to cup the back of his neck. He leans forward to press your heads together, eyes closed, cherishing each other’s touch, and embraces.

You can’t help the laugh that emits past your lips as the cheering only grows louder. It’s not long before you’re drowned in confetti. You gasp, blinking up to the ceiling as little pieces of plastic fall all around you, but the bigger surprise is when they start to dissolve before they can even touch the ground. It only adds to the magical feeling that swells in your heart.

You lean in to give him another small peck. He chases after your lips. Then sighs in relief when you allow them to get caught up with his own. “I love you...” He mutters out gently, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I love you more, my ever after.”

#tedros of camelot #tedros pendragon #tedros pendragon x reader #tedros pendragon imagine #tedros pendragon imagines #tedros x reader #tedros pendragon oneshot #tedros pendragon x fem!reader #tedros pendragon x afab!reader #school for good and evil x reader #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #my gif #writings by juls

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rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me · 2 years ago

Note

Hello bestie I am ur local simp, and i am on my knees begging for HCs of the greasers dancing with you in the kitchen, my preferences are Darry and Steve i am begging

A/N: Hey there! Thanks for requesting, I hope you don’t mind the wait. They’re a little short, but I hope you enjoy them!!

DARRY CURTIS

You wanna dance? In the kitchen? With Darry?

Oh honey, that’s nothing new, my boy loves to dance with you, especially during those quiet moments in the kitchen <3

Whether it’s in the morning where one of you’s fixing breakfast, or in the evenings when dinner’s been tucked into the oven and you have nothing else to do, Darry will definitely dance with you

He likes any of the slow songs that mean he can hold you close, tucking you into his body as you sway back and forth together and looking into your eyes, those little conversations filled with sweet nothings

SODAPOP CURTIS

Yes! I cannot stress this enough, Sodapop loves to dance and would give anything to dance with you

Your dancing is not limited to the kitchen! He’ll dance with you wherever, spinning you around at the drive-in or teaching you a few moves at a diner somewhere while the jukebox plays

He’ll slow dance? But he’d rather more upbeat dances, just cause he’s so energetic

But he’ll take the excuse to hold you close, kiss you gently and smile that smile that totally knocks you off your feet

PONYBOY CURTIS

I love Ponyoby with all my heart, but you can’t look at the boy and convince me that he doesn’t have two left feet

Like, I just know that both of his brothers and his mom did everything they could to try and fix that problem but it’s entirely unsuccessful

Plus? He gives wallflower vibes, so I don’t think dancing would exactly be his cup of tea especially not out on some diner floor or school dance, I can totally see him standing by the walls with a cup of that terrible punch and one of Soda’s ties around his neck

Having said that, I think he’d make an effort if dancing was important to you, like he’d offer to take you dancing and spin you around every once in a while

DALLAS WINSTON

The kitchen? Maybe not, Dallas really doesn’t have access to a kitchen that isn’t Buck’s little half-kitchen or the Curtis’ so maybe not the kitchen specifically

But dancing with you at Buck’s is definitely doable, especially if Dal has a few in his system or it’s not too crowded

Also a firm believer that Dallas has two left feet but it’s not as bad as Ponyboy and he can definitely do a little two-step and shuffle with you

He likes dancing with you because he likes having his hands on your waist, letting them drift as low as he can get away with to then bring you closer for a kiss at the end of the song

JOHNNY CADE

I see dancing with Johnny as like a soft and intimate thing?

So like, just the two of you, spinning and goofing around together when you go out or something, dancing to the Curtis’ radio in their kitchen and stuff

That’s not to say that he won’t dance with you to whatever song is playing over the speakers at the drive-in or to what the jukebox in the corner of the diner is playing, it’s just a lot less likely

But, if you beg and plead and kiss him just enough, I’ll guarantee that Johnny will dance with you, 1000%

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Anywhere and anytime baby, Two-Bit is always going to be more than willing to dance with you

I’m not even joking, literally just say the word and Two will be tripping over his own feet to dance with you, he’s so excited <3

He has absolutely no shame when it comes to humiliating himself in public and I think a part of that factors into his dancing, he doesn’t care who catches you dancing and where you dance

So yes to the drive-in, yes to the diner, yes to whatever bar you may find yourself in on a date night, and a definite yes to dancing with you in the kitchen

STEVE RANDLE

I don’t know why, but I just feel like Steve would definitely dance with you, no questions whatsoever

I can just see him pulling you in for a quick little two-step whenever you stop by to see him at the DX, claiming that the song that started on the radio just has to be danced to as he pulls you in

Slow songs, fast songs, I just think he’d have a lot of fun dancing with you, no matter what!

And if you don’t think you’re a good enough dancer, don’t even worry about it, Steve’s not going to care and he’ll make you laugh so hard while you’re together that you won’t have time to stress about it

TIM SHEPARD

Soooooo I have a lot of thoughts when it comes to this greaser and one of the biggest one is how much fun he’d be to dance with-

He’s good at everything, even though he doesn’t look the type to be spinning around on some dance floor, he’s just got some sort of natural talent that makes him look astounding on the floor

Lines dances to slow dances and everything in between, Tim will have no problem dancing with you, especially after he’s had a few drinks and is feeling more laid-back

His hands might drift a little lower than your hips at times, but what else do you expect? He’s a hood! Besides, when you go to chastise him or move his hands, he’ll just give you this little smirk and how could you possibly be mad at that face?

CURLY SHEPARD

Unless he’s in a space where he feels comfortable, I don’t see Curly as someone who would frequent the dancefloor, it’s just not his space

He can do the dances? Would be down to goof off with you when it’s just the two of you? But he’s not big into the dance floor

Kitchen dancing though, that’s really his element and he’ll spin you around so gently, murmuring the lyrics to whatever song is playing while pressing kisses to where is closest to his mouth

10/10 experience, would highly recommend dancing with Curly as you’d feel so adored and appreciated!

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yuriko-mukami · 1 month ago

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Her Calamity

Maniac 03

Beta reader: @ruki-mukami-dl

Chapter Selection

Sighing, Yuriko put her schoolbag on the floor and clanged at Ruki who seemed to have a permanent wedge between his brows today. The school night had been long, and they did not have time to talk after the lunch break. Later in the limousine, Kou had been presenting all the gifts he had received from his fangirls and even tossed one of the teddy bears to Yuriko, so that had not been the right moment to bring out other matters either.

But now… it was all quiet. Only the moonlight danced into the dark bedroom and mixed with the light of the lamp on the nightstand. Finally, some peace.

“Umh… what did Shu-san say?” Yuriko pulled off her cardigan and stuffed it into her side of the closet, starting to unfasten the buttons of her blouse.

“He was not very talkative.” Ruki leaned toward the closet, his arm brushing Yuriko’s. He picked up the cardigan and moved it to a hanger. “But the good news is that he has no interest in meeting you.” Cold fingers pushed the blouse over Yuriko’s shoulders, and Ruki hung it in the closet as well.

“And the bad news?” Yuriko swallowed while sliding down the zipper of her skirt. She wriggled her hips, letting the piece of clothing pile around her ankles.

Ruki crouched. He took one of Yuriko’s feet, lifting it off the skirt, and then another. “He has no intention to face Karlheinz-sama over the matter.” Getting up, Ruki made sure the skirt was put in the closet properly. “But do not worry. I will find a way to convince Karlheinz-sama that your help is not needed. Shu should solve his own problem without your input.”

“Are… are you sure that Karlheinz-sama will listen to you?” Yuriko looked at Ruki who crouched once more and started to glide down her thigh-high socks inch by inch. She couldn’t help but lift her hand and lace her fingers with his dark messy hair. It was thick and firm, entangling with her digits. The gesture pushed a purr out of Ruki, and a smile dangled on Yuriko’s lips — such a perfect sound.

A coolish touch caressed Yuriko’s foot. Ruki leaned in, kissing her knee as soon as he had revealed it. “When it comes to you, I do not accept a refusal. It does not matter who I must face. Not even Karlheinz-sama can decide for you.”

Yuriko wanted to believe in Ruki’s words. She really wanted. But chills traveled down her spine whenever Ruki mentioned the Vampire king. The man had ruled forever, right? No one stayed in power for that long if they didn’t have sneaky ways to do that. If they didn’t fool everyone around them. That much Yuriko had learned simply by reading tons of fantasy novels with undying antagonists.

Not that Karlheinz was one. The antagonist. Obviously, he was not, for he had saved Ruki’s life by giving him eternity. It was because of Karlheinz that Yuriko had been able to meet Ruki in the first place. So, she was grateful. Still, something was off with the man. Some secrets only waited to be unraveled… and hopefully, they didn’t pose a threat to Ruki or her, but mostly to Ruki. Aside from Yuriko’s fiery powers, she wasn’t anyone interesting or important after all. But Ruki… He called himself a loyal servant of Karlheinz, but it was obvious to Yuriko that he was actually a prince of the Demon World. Yes, one of the many, but a prince, nevertheless.

And the king of my heart. I will not lose him. Yuriko kept her eyes on Ruki as he pulled her socks off completely and then got up, allowing her to cup his cheeks. But soon, he captured her hands, lowering them and squeezing them with a firm grip that radiated safety.

“Do not worry, Yuriko. You can trust yourself into your master’s care.” Ruki traced Yuriko’s arms up and then sneaked his hands behind her, clipping open her bra that slid on the floor between their feet. “Now, put on your nightgown and get into bed. You need a good night's sleep.”

“Umh… I’m not sleepy yet…” Yuriko swayed her hips, gazing up into Ruki’s eyes.

Ruki frowned as an answer. “You are not well. There was nothing wrong with your food yesterday, so I assume it is something else.”

Quilt waved over Yuriko, but she did her best to keep her face calm. “It already passed. I… I think it was either hormonal… or perhaps stress. I… I struggled a lot with equations in the math class.”

“Hmm… we can go through those, but it is not worth it tonight. You already did your best at school like a good girl.” Ruki glided his fingertip along Yuriko’s spine, down, down, down until he reached the waistband of her panties. “So, math will wait till tomorrow.”

Lifting her hands, Yuriko placed them on Ruki’s shoulders only to brush his blazer down his arms. She didn’t mind how the wedge between his brows deepened as she started to unbutton his shirt.

“Now, what are you doing, my angel?” Ruki’s tone grew softer.

“I… I… disobey…” One by one, Yuriko snatched the buttons open, revealing Ruki’s undershirt. She couldn’t understand why he wore it at this time of the year when it was still warm outside. But perhaps it had something to do with his ever-cool skin.

“I see. I should punish you for this.” A chuckle. “I am only taking care of you. Listen to your master —”

Yuriko grabbed Ruki’s belt and tugged it open. She couldn’t apologize for her lies without revealing them and making Ruki’s worry turn in another direction… Yeah, she couldn’t do that. She didn’t deserve forgiveness this time, for she had lied purposely. Instead, she could give Ruki something he deserved.

Fingers curled around Yuriko’s wrists, forcing her hands up while a stormy gaze locked into hers. “What has gotten into you? Do tell me, Yuriko.”

Shivering, Yuriko met Ruki’s piercing eyes. “I… I… I’m not sleepy and I’m feeling well. And… and… I wish to… pleasure you…”

Even the corners of Ruki’s eyes tightened. “It is your bedtime now and I do not mean activities.”

“Please… I want you… I need you…” Yuriko quivered before Ruki. “I promise to sleep right after. Just let me give my everything to you first.”

A groan left Ruki’s lips. “I said no.” Something was wavering behind his gray-blue gaze. “I should put you to sleep in my own ways. Believe me, I can do it in the blink of an eye whether you want it or not.”

Ruki squeezed Yuriko’s wrist a bit harder. It didn’t hurt but gave a clear warning. She should not argue with him. But she wanted to redeem her redemption. There must be a way…

“Please, Ruki…” Yuriko swallowed, curling her fingers.

“No.”

“I’m begging you, Master!” The words simply burst out of Yuriko’s mouth.

The silence that followed was so thick that Yuriko could smell it. She inhaled and the literal scent of instant lust wafted into her nose. Something flashed behind Ruki’s eyes, and this time, he swallowed.

With a sudden swift, Ruki collected Yuriko into his arms and shoved her onto the bed in the next instant. His shirts went flying on the floor before he climbed over her, pressing her against the mattress.

“So, you wish to please your master?” Ruki’s voice was mere purring as he lugged his belt off and wrapped it around Yuriko’s wrists. “It is clear what kind of game you are playing. Let us see if you can truly beat me in it.”

After securing the belt Ruki moved Yuriko’s hands over her head, telling her to stay put. He hauled the pillow down until it was under the small of her back, hoisting her hips while her head hit the sheet.

“Stay still and do not make noise.” Ruki placed a kiss on Yuriko’s belly and grabbed the waist of her panties. Sliding them down, he towed them over the room. “As punishment, you will take something new today. I made a purchase recently.”

“Eh? But —”

Ruki lifted his head, giving Yuriko a glare that told her to shut her mouth. A cocky smirk followed. “Good girl, learning fast. Now, you are only allowed to speak if you need to say our word. You still remember it?”

Yuriko nodded.

“Say it.”

Yuriko’s mouth was getting dry as fast as her insides moist. “Soup.”

“That is correct. You did well, remembering it. Now, that is all you will say if needed. Otherwise, you are not going to say a thing or even moan until I tell you to do so. Is that clear?”

Thump. Thump. Thump. Heartbeat thrummed in Yuriko’s ears as she nodded. The mere agony of waiting for what was to come made her spill on the sheet and spread the scent of her lust all over the room.

Ruki glanced down at Yuriko, tilting his brow. “That was enough to soak you? You truly are my naughty little thing, is that not so?” He met Yuriko’s gaze. She swayed her chin down briefly, keeping in her mind that she wasn’t allowed to talk.

“Now… let us prepare you a little…” Ruki reached for the nightstand.

Turning her head, Yuriko tried to peek. Yet, she couldn’t distinguish what Ruki took in his hands. He placed something on the head of the bed.

“Curious, are you not?” Ruki hummed, running his fingers along Yuriko’s thigh before pushing them apart and revealing her dampened state to his eyes. She quivered from the touch, her heartbeat only accelerating.

“I will show it to you later… but for now…” Ruki covered Yuriko’s inner thigh with smooches, tracing his way up. A heated wave rose deep within Yuriko, making the apex of her legs throb all over with yearning only Ruki could sate. And he did not let her wait for it too long, slithering his way closer and closer and caressing every inch of her skin with his lips and tongue as he proceeded.

Yuriko already wanted to beg. Ruki’s lips were so close, yet so far. She was burning and flooding at the same time. Biting her lip, she did her best to keep her voice down. But she couldn’t stay still; her hips moved on their own, offering nectar-pleading petals for Ruki.

“Always so eager. I love how you open yourself to your master so shamelessly.” Ruki’s words danced on Yuriko’s inner thigh, sending waves of yearning all the way to her toes and fingertips.

If Yuriko’s face hadn’t already been flaring, now it was in flames. But she couldn’t help any of this. Shifting her hips once more, she tried to plead without words about what she wanted from Ruki as her fingers curled and her arms tugged the belt that held her wrists.

Please, please, please! This was impossible! How on earth could Yuriko hold back and stay silent? Screams of frustration were ready to burst out of her. She squirmed, arching her back as the tip of Ruki’s nose caressed her hair, inhaling so deeply she could hear every breath.

Even Yuriko’s fingers quivered, and then, finally, Ruki pressed a single kiss on her pulsating pearl, releasing shivers of anticipation. Those exploded through Yuriko’s veins, making her gape. She needed more, so much more!

Ruki’s tongue darted against the aching nub, circling it in slow motion as if cherishing every millimeter of it. Yuriko bit into her lip, trembling all over, and in that instant, Ruki sucked the bud into his mouth, teasing it with the dance of his tongue. Bolts of lightning flashed; the storm was ready to begin and there was no surviving from it.

“Good girl… surrender completely.” The words radiated against Yuriko’s center of blinding pleasure. Ruki sucked again, fondling her pearl even more. Meandering against the sheet, Yuriko gasped and tried to keep any noise in even though she felt like exploding. Her head went empty as the fireworks shot out. She had never been this wet, it was like she was overflowing, bursting on Ruki’s face. She couldn’t hold back but let out a tiny whimper as her back hit the mattress once more and the last flutter of pleasure shook her.

“That good~?” Ruki kissed Yuriko’s folds. She could barely open her eyes but by trying hard she managed, only to see how Ruki licked his lips and then wiped his cheek with his fingers before sinking them into his mouth. Had she actually dampened his face all over? A hot blaze washed over Yuriko from the mere thought.

Sighing, Yuriko nodded. Ruki knew how to touch her, to treat her. Never had she expected to find someone like him. He had promised to show her the new world, and that he had done. And yet, this couldn’t be all of it. There was more, right?

“Now, relax and take what your master will give you.” Ruki picked up a bottle of something, squeezing the essence on his fingers. “And if anything feels uncomfortable, simply say the word and I will stop. Is that clear?”

Once again, Yuriko lowered her chin to a nod. She trusted Ruki. He would not harm her but give her another course of bliss.

As Yuriko tried to relax, her waist supported up by the pillow and head resting on the sheet together with her tied hands, Ruki spread her legs a little more again. His fingers slid along her folds, and she prepared herself to take them in even though at this point she would have rather wanted something thicker than a mere digit. But Ruki bypassed her entrance and kept going, his fingers snaking into the valley of her buttocks.

Tenseness slithered in Yuriko’s muscles when she realized what was to come. Not that Ruki hadn’t done this before. There was nothing new in this. Yes, she could do this. A single digit found her tighter gates, circling them gradually.

“Breathe steadily… You already know how this will feel…” The finger sneaked in. Just a bit, and then it retreated. In again, out once more, Ruki kept teasing until Yuriko’s legs relaxed and butt sank against the pillow as the pleasuring combers petted her. She let her eyelids fall shut and stopped squeezing, allowing Ruki to move his finger deeper and faster.

“Good girl.” A whisper against Yuriko’s thigh. “Now, the second finger. Prepare yourself.”

A gasp left Yuriko’s lips as the movement spread her even more. Ruki paused, letting Yuriko adjust the pressure as his fingers stayed still. She inhaled. Exhaled. Steadied herself once more. Nudging, Ruki began to move his digits once again. He stretched and strained, pitching Yuriko into the rhythm of delight as she got used to the motion.

Ruki kept going until his fingers moved freely in and out, filling Yuriko’s tiny hole. This was… she shouldn’t have enjoyed something like this, right? But Ruki wanted her to… and this was much more pleasant than she had imagined.

“Time for the next step…” Ruki pulled the fingers out. Sighing, Yuriko peeked as he reached for the bottle again. “Do not worry, my angel. Soon, you will receive something… much more fulfilling. Something that prepares you to take in your master one day.”

Uh huh… what could that be? As Yuriko watched, Ruki lifted a light blue item she had never seen before, rubbing the moisture all over it. The thing looked much wider than any finger even though one end of it was thin while it broadened toward the end.

The item disappeared from Yuriko’s view, meandering its way between her buttocks. It wasn’t either hot or cold, not too soft but not too hard. And to Yuriko’s surprise, it glided in her butt with ease. Curling her fingers, she tensed as it stretched her more, pushing beyond boundaries. Ruki had been right; it filled Yuriko in a way she hadn’t experienced before. Her muscles clenched around the thing, but it didn’t yield.

“You look so perfectly taken right now.” Ruki met Yuriko’s eyes with his lust-darkened gaze. “Would you like your master to give you something more~?”

Even more than this? Quivers dashed through Yuriko. Could she handle that much? It felt like she was at her limit.

Ruki meandered further, topping Yuriko and brushing her cheeks. “Such wide eyes. You are not scared, my angel, are you?”

As Yuriko shook her head, her curls danced against her face, tickling her. Even the tiniest movement made her feel the item in her butt once more. Flashes of heat swiped her from head to toe.

Pushing his pants and boxers down, Ruki leaned in, capturing Yuriko’s lips. The kiss was soft and gentle without demanding anything from her but offering a moment of serenity as Ruki laced his fingers into her hair, only holding her and caressing her mouth with his. His hardness rubbed on her stomach, dampening her skin with his liquid of love. He was so cool, almost cold against her, soothing the fire that blazed in her.

With a groan, Ruki broke the kiss. “I will take it slow tonight. You should enjoy this moment. Do tell me if there is anything you do not like…” Grounding his hips on Yuriko, Ruki growled. “I need you badly, Yuriko. No one else can give me as much satisfaction as you.”

Yuriko jerked her hips up, gasping with the foreign feeling. Still, she locked her gaze with Ruki’s trying to convey the words she was not allowed to speak.

“Simply tell your master what is in your mind. You can say it.” Every syllable snailed out with a panting breath from Ruki’s lips.

Yuriko swallowed. “I… I… I need you so much, Ruki… I can’t really put it into words but there is nothing else I yearn for and crave as much as you. So, please… please… Give me all of you even if… even if… it overwhelms me…”

“I do not deserve you…” Ruki’s voice broke by the end of the sentence. Grabbing a hold of his shaft, he inched the tip against Yuriko’s entrance, glissading in as she was slicker than ever.

“Oh my gosh!” Arching against Ruki, Yuriko let out the loudest moan she had ever heard coming out of her mouth. With one shove, Ruki reached her deepest parts, stuffing her perfectly.

“Fuck… you’re tighter than before…” swaying his hips, Ruki pulled out only to glide in once more. With each thrust he groaned, tugging Yuriko’s hair, his lips wavering on hers. “You truly… are… my… angel…” He twitched in her deepest parts. “Yuriko… fuck… I… love… you…”

It was so difficult even to breathe as Ruki kept going. Grinding more and more, his hips greeted Yuriko’s, and she sank into rapture and euphoria, squeezing Ruki harsher and harsher at an accelerating pace. They became one being, melting together heart and soul so through and through that Yuriko couldn’t tell where she ended and Ruki began. There was nothing else than this delight, this pure gratification that made her spill tears over them. And as she reached the sky, she turned into a shattering shower of stars, crying out Ruki’s name.

“I love you… I love you… I love you more than anything, Ruki!” Yuriko was set off again, and this time Ruki flew into pieces with her, coating Yuriko with his luscious love from inside.

Finally, my angel was asleep. Yuriko puffed slightly as her head sank into the pillow her sweaty curls as her crown.

She was a beauty. She was something I did not deserve but I would never let go of. Brushing her cheek, I leaned in and pecked her cheek ever-so-lightly, not wanting to wake her up now. My disobedient little angel. She had done that on purpose, had she not?

But for what? I did not know. Sometimes it was difficult to see what was going through Yuriko’s mind, for her trail of thoughts was so different from mine. She looked at this world with innocent eyes while I saw its shadows that had only deepened in her shining light.

Could it only be that Yuriko had wanted more of my attention? The thought pleased me to the point that I could feel my lips curling up. How many times had she already made me smile? It was almost like she had taught me that. There was this magic in her… and it had nothing to do with her demonic nature and everything to do with her personality.

I could watch Yuriko all night. There was no point in denying that I had done it more than a couple of times already. Her lips were slightly apart and her bosom heaved with every breath she took. She warmed my bed night after night. Warmed it for real. And she had kept my nightmares at bay for a while now.

“You truly are an angel on my shoulder. I would not know what to do if I were to los–”

Knock knock. Knock knock.

The rattle on the window interrupted my whisper. Turning my head, I stared into the darkness.

Knock knock.

A familiar perhaps? Sighing, I slid off the bed and opened the window ajar. Cool night air leaked in along with a bat that dropped a letter into my hands. “Thank you. You did well. If I need to send a response, I will use my own familiar.”

The bat disappeared into the night as fast as it had appeared, and I pushed the window shut before Yuriko would notice something. Sitting on the edge of the bed, I tore the envelope, pulling out a single piece of parchment. The curvy handwriting made my heart drop if such a human statement was allowed in my case.

Karlheinz-sama.

The timing was suspicious. I scanned through the words, the sentences and they carved into my mind, reminding me that our peace was fragile and promises would be redeemed. Karlheinz-sama wanted to meet me in Eden once more. Our latest encounter was still fresh in my mind, and I did not know what to think.

The man was my great benefactor. But he had forced Yuriko’s fire to burst out by threatening me. There had been a time when I would have gladly died for him… but now… That particular moment told me that there was someone else who was worth dying for too. And if I would need to choose between the two…

Sighing, I lowered the letter on my lap and turned to brush Yuriko’s hair. Her lids were moving vividly; she had probably traveled to the land of dreams.

Karlheinz-sama’s timing twisted my stomach. Could he know what Yuriko had just recently suggested? He had eyes and ears everywhere. What if he was aware of the deal I had made earlier? That could endanger Yuriko, my brothers, and also me. However, if this was about something else, it would look odd if I did not attend. Which meant, I should go. But before that, I would make arrangements to ensure Yuriko’s safety while I would be away. Even though we had not encountered those foxes who sneaked around during the summer, they could use another opportunity since the truth was they had only shown up when I was not here.

#yuriko's story #ruki mukami #yuriko tsukino #dialovers oc #diabolik lovers fanfic #steamytimes

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justjams2003 · 2 years ago

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Between Two Gods: 1-Public Display

This is highly inspired by @oh-for-fic-sake's work which I have been binge reading recently on my second blog. Now, I am a firm believer that the MCU and DCEU should not mix. They don't belong together. But this idea just had me salivating and I'd do anything for good smut. If you'd like a prequel or sequel, I'd be happy to oblige. If there even are still people who read a/b/o fics, other than myself.

Pairing: Thor Odinson x reader x Clark Kent

Summary: While you and your mates are at the knot-friendly beach, you can't help but want to get frisky.

Warnings: threesome, mxm, fxm, mxfxm, p in v, semi-blowjob, a/b/o, knotting, meantions of heats and rutting, exhibitionism, voyeurism, public sex, mixing of universes, talk about pregnancy (but no actual pregnancy), afab reader, no mention of skin colour or weight. If there are any more please do tell.

Word count: 2,7k

You’re not sure how exactly you ended up in this situation. You’re the most envied woman on the planet. Gossip blogs, and news articles were all over you. The first mate of two in thousands of years. And not any two either, mated to the two strongest alphas on the planet, and beyond. Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder, prince of the nine realms. And Superman, the God amongst men.

Not everyone knew about Superman, everyone did know about Clark Kent. Mated to one of the most famous journalists and the God of Thunder? All to this young twenty-year-old girl. It was a shock to be sure and you can’t help but drink up every moment of it.

Even now, as you relax on the omega/alpha beach you can’t help but love every second of it. Thor, as usual, has gone off to make friends. His beautiful long blonde sand colour hair sways in the win as he jumps to slam the volleyball back up in the air. His stomach muscles strain and you can’t help but feel yourself get hot and heavy.

“You enjoying the view?” Clark asks with a smirk pulling you closer to his side. “I’m sure he can smell you from all the way over there.” You smirk, leaning into to him. “And you’re telling me you aren’t enjoying his preening too?” The man of steel chuckles.

“How can I not? I’ve got the prettiest omega in the world stuck to my side with another alpha who loves fucking her with me.” You smirk, pushing one of his legs between your own and grinding his knee against your slit, begging for some sort of friction. “Speaking of fucking...”

You can hear him groan and roll his eyes. You can’t help but smirk at his reaction and pull yourself closer to him. Slotting your nose against his neck, scenting his smile and Thor’s own mark on the man of steel. Licking and nipping at that very same sensitive spot. You can tell Clark is struggling with his own mind, his hand gripping tighter to your ass.

“Omega, you’re testing me...” he mutters, trying to keep his composure and tune out your mewling noises. Or the fact that these already small swim shorts get even smaller. Tighter and tighter every time that you lick and suck on those sensitive nerves of his.

“It's a knot-friendly beach, no one here would care. In fact, I’m pretty sure they’d even enjoy the show.” You whisper into his ear, making small circles on his chest and then trailing lower. “Yes, everyone else on the planet too. I’m not exactly keen on having my cock plastered on the daily planet.”

You groan out, then see Thor very well heard how frustrated you are and you’re sure smell it too. “Fine, I’ll ask Thor then.” You huff, going to stand and give him the best puppy eyes you could. You know very well he’d do it in a heartbeat. Public knotting isn’t just normal on Asgard but smiled upon. Even done to boost morale.

You remember how strange he found it. When you and Clark met him for the first time, seeking him out after the attack on New York, you had gone into immediate heat. Sending both the boy into a rut. Thor insisted on taking you there and then, but with much, much self-control from Kal, you three managed to make it back to you and Clark’s farmhouse.

Kal grabs you by your wrist, he knows if your go to Thor he’ll make a big spectacle of it. Everyone will be involved and invited to watch. If he does it perhaps it can happen more quietly. He grabs you by the back of your neck, he himself sitting more upright. He pulls you in close and whispers in your ear.

“You want to be fucked?” He asks, knowing the answer, he can smell the answer from you. You smirked, biting your lip and giving a curt nod. He also smirks and lays back down on his beach chair. He tilts his head to his growing cock and nods. You gasp out with a wide smile, “You mean it?” He smiles and nods again.

“This is a knot-friendly beach. Nothing done here should be new or even considered publish-worthy.” He shrugs, more so reasoning with himself than with you. He loves seeing his little omega so excited. You reach down his shorts and allow his massive cock to spring free from its imprisonment.

You can already see his bright blue irises turning an intoxicating black-blue colour. Like that in which the creepiest sea creatures drift in the fast ocean. A colour you and Thor both like to call sex-blue. Thor also had his very own variation of sex-blue.

The pre-cum leaks from his throbbing, red and sensitive tip. Like a kitten, you lap it up with your cute pink tongue. From the very top down to the base of his hairy abdomen. He watches your every move. Like a starving child, you lick every inch of him, wetting him with your own spit.

Then you move his legs in between your knees. You pull on the green bows tying your bikini bottom together. Clark's eyes consume every inch of you, watching the small cloth fall and reveal your mound. “See? I told you and Thor there is a good reason for me to wear these.” You giggle, rubbing your slit against his base.

“So, this was planned all along?” He grunts out, grabbing you by the hips and lining your body up with his. You can’t even reply before he spears you, filling you up from the inside. All that you can let out is a yelp and then a loud moan. He too throws his head back with a groan.

“I can’t ever get over how tight you are, perfectly moulded, huh?” He allows you to get comfortable. And then lifts you back up and down on his huge cock. You throw your head back, it was always such a new feeling to you. One you crave far more often than you cared to admit.

Thor’s senses were going crazy. He can smell the arousal from you and from Clark. He loves it and if he could bathe in the smell he would. In fact at home, he even tried to. Every chance he has, he gathers both of you in the nest you made and fucks the both of you silly. Then after he tries to soak up as much of the scent as he can.

And now he’s sure every other person here can smell it, but none are covered in it like he is. None can join anytime they want as he can. He just loves it. But Thor is smart, maybe not smart like Tony or Bruce. Yet he knows the game his other Alpha is getting at. He also knows what his Omega is getting at.

You want everyone to know and Clark rather keep you both all to himself. But that’s what the older Alpha is there for, to satisfy both of your needs. “My, my, my, what do we have here?” His voice is deep and low and your walls seem to clench tight at his deep dominant voice.

Thor notices instantly, he knows he has that effect on you both. Clark pulls you deeper into him. He barely even notices the other Alpha there, his own instincts flooding him with lust and nothing else. Privacy seems to be at the very back of his mind right now.

“Everyone can smell you two, all wet and sticky. Being fucked silly.” You let out a loud moan at his words and the God can’t help but chuckle. Then he attaches his lips to yours. Dominating your tongue and swallowing your moans. “You like that, huh? Do you like everyone watching you? Such a slut.”

He grabs you by your neck and whispers in your ear. His other hand cupping your tit through the neon green bikini. He twists and he pulls on your covered nipple. Lapping up your mouth. He loves the thrill of knowing that his words only make you bounce faster on Clark’s cock.

“You hear that, my pretty boy, she likes everyone seeing you fuck her silly. Fucking her so good.” Thor bends down low, whispering in Kal’s ear. Sticking his nose into his neck and pulling the scent from his mark. To everyone out there in Metropolis, Superman is the man.

He’s the one who gives orders and doesn’t take shit from the government. He’s the one in charge, saving lives and calling the shots. He’s the one strong enough to carry the weight on his shoulders. But at home, he plays an entirely different role. At home, he’s Thor’s pretty boy.

Clark comes home to an Omega, ready to be coddled and scented all over. To let his frustrations out. Someone who will gladly listen to him and sit when he asks and spreads when he asks. And then his own Alpha comes home. Coddles the both of them and tells him what a good job he did, taking care of their Omega.

Someone to praise and someone to praise him. The perfect dynamic, for you too. Easily filled and by the time your next heat comes around, you’ll be off the pills and pupped up before you know it. At least that is what both the boys are hoping for, they work hard every day to convince you of it... You’ve been a bit hesitant so far.

Though right now that’s far from where Clark’s focussed. Right now all he can think about is Thor buttering him up real good. “Look at that, she’s pulling you in with that delicious pussy of her’s” He forces his eyes open, forcing him to look, knowing it’ll bring him to the edge.

That it does, the man takes you by the hips and flips you over on your back. Fast enough that you only notice that he’s deeper inside you. Thor can help himself, he can’t help but reach down and rub your sensitive clit. Red and pulsing, begging for attention.

That’s enough to bring you over the edge, your legs shake and your walls clench around him. Clark can’t help but watch you pour out around him. Clenching and pulling all at the same time. This too pushes him further, he latches his lips onto yours.

The man of steel can feel himself growing bigger and bigger. He can feel himself forming around you. Pushing himself deeper, until he can feel himself right up close to your cervix. He is finally thrown overboard when Thor grabs him by the neck and gives him a sloppy deep kiss.

You can feel his hot seed pour into you. Like the first hot water to hit your back at the start of a shower. Overcoming and overbearing. Nothing else is there but the two Alphas. One deep inside you, pumping his hot seed into you and the other one throat deep into that same Alpha.

That is until the high begins to fall and you notice the crowd that had formed. Whispers going around, “Look at how big he is!” “How does that even fit?” “If I were her I’d be ripped open.” Clark can’t help but peacock at their shock. Pushing further into you as his hot cum fills you.

His knot is still big, even after the high has worn off. He’s not even sweaty or out of breath! You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to keep up with them. As your chest is heaving, your legs feel numb and shaky. You feel so full and pressed and pulled.

“It seems we’ve got a crowd.” You try to giggle but you’re still chasing after your breath. “Yes, even after I tried so hard to avoid it.” He groans, pushing out his last few pumps of cum before his knot finally calms down. Until he can finally pull out of you, drinking up the way that cum just pours out of you.

“Is this you avoiding a crowd?” You can’t help but chuckle at him. His hands are quick to swat at your ass. “Hey, little miss, this was your idea. Don’t get snippy with me.” He commands, pulling his soft dick back into his swim shorts.

Finally, Thor stands back up but your eyes grow wide. His shorts also have a massive tent, not to mention soaking wet with what you can smell as pre-cum. The God of Thunder knows good and well that Clark would like to get out of this without anyone knowing it's him.

This omega of theirs is bring out a much wilder side to him. Thor gives Clark another sloppy, wet kiss. “Go on, get us some drinks. Anyone asks or takes any photos you bring them to me, got it?” He nods, his cheeks red and flushed, from pride, embarrassment and excitement all bundled into one. "I’ll take care of them.”

And with that Clark gave you a kiss and was jumping to follow his orders. Thor stands in front of you, covering you with his body. His colossal cock is hard to miss. Seeming needy and ready for only one thing. His stature is huge, standing more than 5cm taller than their Superman.

The God of Thunder and the prince of the nine realms bares his teeth and growls at the people gawking. The same way he would when addressing his people. When commanding his military force, when charging into battle. It’s an Alpha command, one not even Kal-El can dismiss. Simple and clear. Leave and forget who you saw.

Not a single one disobeyed. They all drag their feet and most of the Alphas hang their head low. Each and every one of them baring their neck. He turns back to you, he sees you soaking all over again. “You like that, little omega? Does my little princess like me having to command all these people, all these Alphas, to stop gawking?”

He pulls you closer by your feet. Scenting his and Clark’s mark on your neck. Licking and sucking all the spots he knows so well. “To stop staring at this beautiful pussy. At what’s mine?” You bare your neck, knowing you’re going to get one hell of a punishment for manipulating Clark like that.

“Why don’t I throw you over my shoulder? Parade you around town, since you want everyone to look.” You gasp, he wouldn’t! He chuckles at your reaction. “I don’t think my pretty boy would like that very much and he’s not the one being punished here.” You bite your lip, he knows that you know what you did.

Just then Clark returns with the drinks. Thor smiles at him, tying the strings of your bikini back up again and picking you up. He places you down on your feet, “Go, clean yourself off while the Alpha’s talk, yeah?” He gives you a light smack on your bottom. You know defying will only worsen your situation. You jump and scurry off.

Thor smirks and pulls Clark into his lap. Grabbing the drink and taking a long sip. Superman can feel his Alpha’s dick on his back. Huge and heavy. He can feel him scenting his mark and growing even bigger. “So mean of that little one, huh? Using you like this...”

He trails off, pulling Clark just a bit closer and grinding into his ass. “I might just do the same. Just look at what you do to me...” Kal can’t help but moan and lean into Thor at the thought. His chuckle is dark and ruthless. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I can feel it.”

Thor’s hands wander, groping Clark's wet and semi-hard cock. “It’s okay pretty boy, we won’t do that, not yet anyways. Considering that that little one needs a punishment. You can choose after all.” They both can help but grin at the thought, watching as your soaking body walks across the sand.

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drakewyne · 5 months ago

Text

tim drake loaded the chunks of evidence he had wasted his summer on, a grueling ordeal into paranoia of the existence of a lazarus pit he had missed nearly six years prior, onto a thumbdrive. he held that hurt in the palm of his hand and let the dark circles beneath his eyes ring into nothing.

the slim hand of nancy van der huis pulling him out, pulling it out of his hand.

———————————————————————

your friends supply the drugs, your good friends stage the intervention.

———————————————————————

“i’m going to hide it where you won’t find it.”

he shrugs, moody cold new england ice to his sublevel floor. not even the gotham heatwave could melt his eyes out.

hers, though, melted gooey and thick.

“i can find anything.”

“not this.”

“nancy—”

“maybe i’ll have you beat this time.”

———————————————————————

she swagger walks backwards, a smooth jolt in her backstep; like she was walking perpendicular to reality. he watched her with a tilted head. she cocked hers to match.

“you have to close your eyes,” she says.

he rolls them briefly instead, but she insists: close your eyes.

———————————————————————

( in darkness, he knows where her sneakers take her. she could not fathom how to step quietly enough for him to not know. still, he sees the way she paws for a hiding place in some calculation of psyching him out, and he pictures double blinds. )

“i didn’t stop you when you were rolling a boulder up a hill this summer.”

( her fluttering hands stopping. starting again. triple blinds. )

“because i knew what i was doing had substance.”

( her dark voice carries across the sublevel and his head instinctively follows. quadruple blinds. )

“because i was looking for a thing that i knew i could find.”

( her dark voice that carries air. )

———————————————————————

“but you don’t look for things.”

( her dark voice carrying the dark— )

“you look for doorways to doorways.”

( —searching for the path it took, she took— )

“until you’re out, ( her sigh, like some boat ceaselessly adrift perpetually, dragged farther out into the current. ) and out, and out . . . “

———————————————————————

“you know the difference. i know you do.”

( was someone coming back for him? yes, that delicate swing to slightness was telltale on his floor — he’d memorized it. he could visualize her walking, swaying lazily, her arms behind her back with a tilted chin and seeking eyes like he’d blocked this scene out. like he was shooting her movie, and she was performing really spectacularly, this friend of his that he couldn’t have dreamed of. this friend of hers that she couldn’t have either. they competed for gravity just to enjoy it being taken away again. they just went around and around. )

“between . . . mm . . . being on the right track and self sabotage.”

( shifting her long, slim legs and staggering her weight to counter that of immeasurable talent; it was hopeful that she was not hard. that she saw cats with the pawpads ripped off and still believed good luck was very real. it was an arrogant notion for her to think that she had any control over the whim of the universe, whatever cruel god was out there exacting punishment until she pointed her bed northwest, but the delusion had a purity in it that he couldn’t replicate. she just wanted some wrong to be righted. didn’t they all? )

“when you know, tim . . . you know.”

( and she was right. )

“you won’t get what you want from this because there isn’t a chance for an answer. you could tear this building down brick by brick and you won’t find what you’re looking for. you’ll just have dirty hands.”

breath escapes his parted mouth.

———————————————————————

“you’re ruled by desire, but you really hate the suffering that comes from wanting. like you want the cake but not the calories. like . . . ”

( she was this carbon copy imprint on the backs of his eyelids; so to say, his permanent hide and seek player. the bonds between his carbon atoms, 1 - diazidocarbamoyl - 5 - azidotetrazole. stress held them firm and they cyclized at room temperature and ate each other’s electrons on their own compound tension. their hands clasped together, as if she had looked down, as if she had clicked her tongue: you know, now that you're here, we should get comfortable, huh? )

“you want to be loved but you don’t want to be known.”

( in where they hit the equilibrium point; wherein the reactants and the products stop blooming and only create free energy. )

“i’m like that. the feeling that i have to make it up to someone. it’s a very transactional feeling. i think all rich kids can be like that. i don’t wonder why we’re all obsessed with paying to be liked, but i let it happen anyway. i pay. i let them pay. well . . . it’s all we know how to do.”

“a secret.”

( she has many of his. she keeps them like a promise. )

———————————————————————

( there is a lull in the dark and he pictures her taking her swarovski teeth into the plush of her bottom lip, fitting manufactured lines in a deep dusted rose. she does that short hum that she does — the pull of her brown brow into dissociative maladaption, into conception, into decision. she decides. he sees it in the space of his skull. he reviews the softness of her decision again and again and again. )

“can i tell you a secret?”

“what for?”

“so i can make it up to you, the fact that you burnt through your summer. your rotten feeling.”

his hands slip out of his pockets and sit cold and beautiful and destroyed at his side.

“that’s not your fault.”

“i know. that doesn’t really matter to me, though. all my action is newtonian.”

( still believed if she did enough, a wrong would be righted. )

“okay,” he says.

———————————————————————

he angles his long body down—

( —and she angles up and smells like boozy cherry and white beaches and the summer he completely blew searching for the search for bomb misconception; which yes, was self punishing and tortuous. and he certainly would have inevitably gotten some win that would have made him realize the futility of this device, but instead he was being led out in the dark by this very slim hand that made things out of nothing. his self evisceration was as arrogant as her luck — both of which were just grapples for some sense of control. they hated suffering but both found it very necessary because they wanted too much. the curve of her hand against his cheekbone to cup away from no one else, she opens her mouth, and then the hesitation audibly catches the soft breath in her throat. )

he turns his face somewhat, still listening—

( —and she shifts her face as well, uncharacteristically demure for a moment. he feels briefly the puppysoft skin of her cheek slightly warm against his. contemplative, very thoughtful, the subconscious and haunting ability she has to stop start all of time for him. the eerie anticipation of a secret, or maybe of just being touched in a way that isn’t derisive or trying to kill him. )

———————————————————————

"hey . . . tim . . . "

———————————————————————

" . . . yeah?"

———————————————————————

the backs of her cold fingers brushed against his jawline, and she pulled no blood from the sheer sharpness of how gaunt he was in the face, and pressed rough fingertips against the other side of his face — the hallow of his cheek, some valley to her adept artisan hands. and he kept his eyes closed because he was taught to find everything out of nothing, because he could have found her needle body in a haystack he was so talented, because her sooty eyelashes fluttered against his cheek like a butterfly wing. tim knew it was a good secret because she was so embarrassed about the act of giving it, but of course he would keep it very safely. there was still the filter of some nodding off, gooey half of a dream between the press of her mouth to his, but it was still violently tangible and slow. he archived the feeling of this deliberation, and then he got lost. doorways to doorways. they were very dark halls, but he didn’t mind the dark if she didn’t mind either.

after all, he thinks he leaned in before she did.

( she tastes like sweet mint. )

———————————————————————

“i could hide here too,” she murmured, “if you want.”

#┊ : ̗̀➛ vanderdrake . . . ( wild heart 2013 )#┊ : ̗̀➛ writing . . . ( melodrama 2017 )

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starrvsn · 2 years ago

Text

in which you & wally (slow) dance ♡

on rotation: saving all my love for you by whitney houston.

a/n: pls there’s not enough nickname variants for wally :’) also! wally’s outfit. im a firm believer that wally has at least another outfit than the other two he had in the show. (exchange the leather jacket for his varsity)

“i can’t dance walls!” you pout as he takes your hand pulling you from your seated position on the stage. “don’t be silly sweetheart, anyone can dance.” leading you to the middle of the court. it was late with everyone doing their own little thing. wally couldn't contain his excitement for homecoming and now that he's going with you he shares that excitement, eventually unveiling to him that you in fact cannot dance to save your life. “but not everyone can dance good.” wally scoffs resting his hands comfortably on your hips “i’ve seen you dance before don't be sly, you're definitely not a bad dancer.” a charming grin painting his face as his soft brown eyes bore into yours. you can't help but flush at his words. now knowing he's seen you dance.

"you're a creeper wally clark!" exclaiming, playfully smacking his shoulder to which he feigns hurt for but quickly regains his composure.

"well i can't help that you play sick tunes when you bake!" you laugh at his silly reasons, now noting to lower the volume next time you’re in the culinary room and telling him off for sneaking on you anyways.

“speaking of tunes” giving you a knowing look; he departs from you, venturing towards your previous spot to the cd player that laid next to you, thank god for cd players and modern technology. he slips the cd in the player. the soft tune of a whitney houston song emitting from the stereo. when you had first heard this song together wally had instantly declared that this is your song. he then dims the lights in the gym and carefully shedding his varsity jacket, his white tee hugging him graciously.

he softly sways to the beat as you watch him closely, flutters of nerves in your stomach. you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of him, as he gets closer– he extends a hand out to you. wordlessly asking your permission for a dance. gently, you take his hand in yours as he pulls you close, hand comfortably on your waist as the other clasps gingerly onto yours. ‘just take things slow’ he murmurs– taking the lead as you fall into step with him quite naturally. slow, gentle rhythm of the music matches the beating of your hearts as you move in sync with you. feeling the warmth of each other's embrace. your eyes meet, flushing at his tender gaze. caught up in the moment of being in each others presence.

As you move together, your steps become more graceful and fluid, like pieces of a puzzle, connected in every way. the world fades away, leaving only the two of you and the music, as you share this intimate moment together. “you’re a natural sweetheart.” he gushes pulling away from you a bit, only a few centimeters away compared to the warmth you were feeling earlier. shyly brushing off the compliment with a shake of your head, he lifts your arm giving you a knowing glance. just as the chorus begins you let out a giggle. slowly turning before facing him again, his soft grin mimicks on your face as you continue to step together, his hands resting on your waist and yours around his neck; one comfortingly caressing his neck. counting the constellation of moles and freckles that litter his face and neck, your hand gradually climbing to his face– resting gently on his cheek to which he turns his head to plant a soft kiss on your palm. lost in the moment as you continue this soft and intimate moment. wishing for it not to end.

‘yes, i’m saving all my love for you’

ownership of starrvsn. please do not repost, modify or translate.

#star’s galaxy #wally clark #wally clark x reader #wally clark fanfiction #wally clark imagines #school spirits #school spirits fanfiction #school spirits wally clark #milo manheim #milo manheim fanfiction

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whumpsoda · 9 months ago

Note

imagine Nevan having a want, a need of sorts. Darius wouldn’t care of course, but Adrastus spots it simmering beneath the surface and invites the thrall to state his need, without any punishment, but also without guarantee that it could be accommodated.

Nevan fights it at first but after Ad commands it via thrall he finally whispers that he wished Malak was less enthralled so he could have someone to talk to—like he had been when he was sick. a disgustingly selfish need on Nevan’s end that he fully expects to be punished for suggesting.

idk what happens next but I doubt Adrastus would be angry, perhaps having sympathy for the thrall while remaining firm that Malak would remain the way he is(??)

WOHEO Masterlist cw: hypnosis, captivity, servant whump, vampire whumper

———————————————————————

“Something wrong, dear?”

It was obvious to the vampire that something just had to be poking at the man’s usually muddled brain. From Nevan’s furrowed brows to his lack of concentration, his mind was clearly elsewhere.

Adrastus had been aiding him in washing some of the thrall’s dishes, bored of sitting around endlessly with nothing to do. The kitchen was tainted with a pinch of awkward air, but neither seemed to mind too much.

Nevan blinked hard, catching himself and swiftly continuing to scrub the dish between his fingers, flustered. “Um… no, no, of course not, master.”

“Nothing troubling you? Nothing at all?” They pressed, leisurely scraping food scraps into the sink.

Adrastus wasn’t an idiot. Of course he’d say no. He’d probably learned very quickly that his own master was in no way fond of entertaining the feelings of a thrall. A bit sad, if you asked them.

“No, sir.”

They sighed. “Nevan,” he stopped as they turned to face him, avoiding eye contact and biting his lip. “Do not lie to me. If something is the matter, tell me.”

For a moment, he hesitated. “Everything is, is fine, master. Nothing… nothing is wrong.”

“Love, I don’t appreciate you hiding things. I’m not going to punish you for whatever you have to say, I swear on it.”

“Master, I’m, I’m fine!”

They placed a hand to his exposed shoulder, rubbing their thumb over his lush skin. “Shhh, darling, you can trust me. You can trust master, I would never hurt you.”

Their smile only hardened as they noticed him easily slipping under their luscious control, eyes going glassy and muscles relaxing under their sweet, sweet touch. How utterly adorable. “Master… I… I’m fine…”

“You trust master oh, so much. You trust me with every single thought in that little mind of yours, even the bad ones. Master just wants to help you. Master can help you.”

He carefully dropped his plate to the counter, body swaying with silky ease and calm. “I’m… I…”

“C’mon, baby. You can tell Master. You want to tell Master.” Their aura was amping up with hypnotic force, tugging his secret right out from under him.

“I… I wish…”

“Nevan. Tell me.”

His voice fell to a soft whisper as his relent snapped into a shatter of tiny pieces. “I, I wish Malak was… awake. Like me. So, so I could have someone to talk to… like when he was sick.”

“Oh.”

How pitiful.

Yet, how utterly and undeniably endearing at the same time.

“Oh, dear.” Adrastus’ grin faded, falling into that of a compassionate pout. Pulling Nevan into a tight embrace they dug their head into his chest, contact he fully melted into.

After a moment of pleasant, warm hugging, Adrastus pulled the thrall to their level, cupping his chin. “I… understand that. Yes, I could see why you’d yearn for such a thing.”

Their heart split just the tiniest bit at the glimmer in his eye, like he dumbly believed they would consider such a thing. It was silly, really, but only made him ten times cuter. “Though, I’m sorry little love, I just can’t ease up on him like that. He needs such a heavy spell to quell his ever present anxiousness and messy mind. He needs it to feel good.”

“You understand, don’t you?”

“Yes… master…” his words were coated with dissatisfaction and disappointment, but still muddled with daze. So eager to please, he was, even when had he been more conscious he would’ve easily argued.

They would never let that happen.

Adrastus’ grin returned in full, almost as if it had never left. “Good, good. Such a good boy, you.” They tussled his hair, sending his mind reeling and his dopily happy expression to return as well. “Now, just remember, you can always tell me anything else your little mind stirs up, alright? No judgement here, baby.”

“Oh- okay. Of course… sir. Tell… tell you… anything…”

They chuckled, pecking him right on the forehead and whispering beside his susceptible ear. “Such an obedient thrall. Just splendid.”

In that of a flash their demeanor flipped, patting the thrall on the cheek and awakening him from their trance. “Now, back to your chores you go, darling!” Nevan quickly picked back up his task, this time with complete focus and attention like always.

Before they let the conversation go and risk the talk washing right out from Nevan’s memory, Adrastus leaned in close just one more time. “Then make sure you go spend some time playing with your little friend, okay?”

———————————————————————

Taglist- @softvampirewhump @iys-cloud @battyfantasy @xx-adam-xx @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @mylifeisonthebookshelf

If anyone wants to be removed or added to the taglist, please let me know! :)

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luvlanadr · 2 years ago

Note

hii, i’m in love with your blog! 🥺❤️

could you do a headcanon of dating evan, pls?

aa thank you so much lovely, it's so nice to hear people actually enjoy my blog, it means the world to me!!

i've never really done head cannons but i'll try nonetheless, hope it's ok ! i wasn't sure if you wanted any of his characters, so if you do just let me know, sorry there isn't a lot i'm just not paticularly used to this layout.

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬-𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

.·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·..·:*¨ ¨*:·.

epitome of the perfect boyfriend, you're his everything he will prioritise you over anything

although evan isn't too fond on horror movies if you insist to watch one he will just for your benefit, just be aware you may have evan cowering behind you after certain jumpscares to which you'd question 'after all that time on a HORROR show' which you emphasised 'you're still afraid of anabelle?'

'hey it's scary,' he'd huff as a reply, before letting out a supressed laugh 'that demonic doll is terrifying, besides i'm only watching this for you.'

evan i feel would be huge on PDA, he loved just holding your hand, stroking his thumb against your palm for a sense of comfort, or if not that he would constantly have a hand snug around your waist

this man would attempt to persuade you to become a firm believer that butter in coffee is essential

to which you would respond, 'evan, i love you.' you paused on the brink of laughter, 'but...i hate to be the bearer of bad news but butter belongs no where near a coffee,'

after this he would attempt to make you a firm believer in butter in coffee, very persistent but would eventually give up

after a particularly hard day on set, especially with the intense, immersion he has into his characters, he usually is extremely stressed. however, he feels at ease knowing he gets to come home to you.

evan's ideal is a night in with you, a stupid rom-com or sometimes intense, phycological thriller in the background and just holding you in his arms

evan is head over heels for you, and he will always reassure you on how perfect and attractive you are to him, worshipping every part of you.

evan would love to cook with you, even the simplest dishes. he would love to play your specific song,a nd dance with you around the kitchen. he'd definitely have his hands on your hips, whilst your hands are draped around his neck gently swaying you back and forth. but in more silly scenarios were an upbeat song is on he will twirl you around, leaving you in almost tears, as he does as you refer to it as 'dad dancing'.

yes, you and him have a playlist of songs that reflect you relationship and songs you reminisce to constantly attached to your favourite memories with one and other

oh and not to mention, evan loves reminiscing he would suggest you start a scrapbook together, filled with photos, souvenirs and just little trinkets of th [laces you visit and core memories

#evan peters icons #evan peters fanfic #evan peters imagine #evan peters smut #evan peters x reader #evan peters edit #evan peters #evan peters x you #evan peters x y/n #evan peters oneshot #evan peters headcanon #evan peters headcannons #evan peters fluff

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askbensolo · 4 months ago

Text

Journal Entry #44: one stayed, one swayed, one strayed

So I may have made a mistake. Amalia and I had planned a holocall to catch up (because I suck at replying to messages), and...I asked if she wanted to see Fannie, too. Since she’s here and everything.

I knew Amalia hadn’t spoken to Fannie or Luke for a long time. But they always ask me how she’s doing, since I’m the only one she still talks to. They clearly still care about her, even if she doesn’t think so. I don’t know—I just figured I’d ask.

And much to my surprise…she agreed. As long as I was going to be there, she said.

And you know what? It actually started out okay. Like I said…Amalia’s a lot more mellow now. She’s still herself, in the same way that I’m still me despite not being an emo boi anymore—but she does seem to care about people more, and there’s just more light in her eyes when she engages with you.

There was some chit-chat between me and Fannie and Amalia about what we’ve all been up to. I was feeling really proud of Mal. I know she’s got some issues with the Jedi and everything, and it must have taken a lot for her to be willing to talk to Fannie again.

What I don’t understand, is that Fannie must have known that too. So...I was shocked when Fannie just...went for the throat, and asked Amalia if she still didn't want to be a Jedi.

I think I mentioned to you how Amalia has developed some different beliefs on the Force. She thinks the Force must be a person rather than a thing. Like…some sort of divine spiritual being, I guess. And again, I say: don’t ask me about that stuff—not my lane, buddy. I just live here.

All I know is, she seems happier this way, thinking of the Force as someone who cares about her, and I thought Fannie would be happy for her, too. I mean…I am. But...she wasn't.

“Amalia…the Force isn’t a person,” Fannie said, sounding confused. “The Jedi have never believed the Force is a person.”

“Well, that’s why I’m not a Jedi,” said Amalia.

“The Jedi have passed down their ancient knowledge and wisdom for centuries. Do you really think they were all incorrect?”

“The Jedi have also passed down many mistakes and corrupt practices,” Amalia countered. “They were incorrect in that. Who’s to say there weren’t other things they got wrong? Or things that got twisted along the way? The Jedi were mortal. The Force is not. I follow the Force now, Fannie. Not the Jedi.”

“The Jedi do follow the Force,” Fannie argued. “The Jedi Order, despite its failings, has been a firm foundation for many years for all who would follow the Force—”

“All? Or just those with a high enough Force sensitivity?” Amalia asked.

“Well, yes, I suppose the life of a Jedi is specifically for those with a special ability to sense the Force, like you and I,” Fannie conceded, “but isn’t that all the more reason why you should have stayed? You were given a gift. It seems a shame to waste it."

"You just said someone gave me a gift," pressed Amalia. "Who did, if not a person?"

You know me. I’m all for debating the esoteric. But I was starting to get a little stressed about them fighting. One of them was a good friend because she shared my darker sense of humor and the feeling of being kind of an outcast. And one of them I was kinda hoping would be my girlfriend soon.

"Okay, ladies, break it up," I said. "I mean, come on. Who can really know anything about the Force for sure?"

"Every one of us can, if we seek to know the Force," said Amalia, with the urgency of one sharing a profound revelation.

"The Jedi know the Force," said Fannie, with the zeal of one defending a sacred institution. "They have studied it for generations."

"Why don't you guys just accept that you, you know, each see things a little differently, and move on?" I suggested, with the pragmatism of one who’d given up trying to understand the galaxy a long time ago. "It seems to be working out great for each of you, even if you guys believe different things. And who knows, maybe both of you are kind of right."

Amazingly enough, then they both turned on me.

"We can't both be right, Solo," Amalia said. "Our beliefs about the Force are pretty mutually exclusive."

"There is only one truth," agreed Fannie. "Your eyes couldn't be brown and blue at the same time."

"Well, what if I had one eye that was brown, and one eye that was blue, and each of you were sitting on either side of me—" I started to say, but as clever as I thought this little parable was, it did not go over well with the girls.

"Oh please. Not that 'blind men and the bantha' crap," Amalia groaned.

"There would still be only one truth—that you had a brown eye and a blue eye, rather than fully brown or fully blue—and both of us would be wrong," Fannie said.

"Okaaay," I said, "but you'd still both be half right—"

"Which would still make us both wrong," Amalia said.

"Look, is it really that important what the Force is or isn't like?" I asked impatiently.

"Yes!" Fannie and Amalia said at the same time.

"The Force is the giver of all life, watching over us, working all events toward our good, loving us despite our darkness, giving us the will and the strength to do what's right," said Amalia. "I didn't know how to have hope or joy or love for myself or anyone else, until I discovered that the Force made me on purpose and gives a damn about me."

"The Force is the energy that flows through each of us and every living creature, and in the influence we wield over the world, whether for good or evil," said Fannie. “If you are not in tune with it, you are not in tune with yourself or others or the rest of nature.”

"The Force is out there, sure, but I don't see why it's so worth bothering about," I said. “Seems like it kinda just does what it wants. I mean, it doesn’t seem to want anything to do with me. And if I’m honest? I don’t really want anything to do with it, either.”

Fannie and Amalia both stared at me, frustrated. I didn't understand why they thought I was so wrong. I was the only one here not trying to get everyone else to change their mind. I was totally okay with Amalia believing what she wanted to and Fannie believing what she wanted to as long as I could believe what I wanted to and somehow that made me the bad guy?

We were all quiet for a bit, until Fannie broke the silence.

“I don’t understand,” she said, shaking her head. “We all learned the same things from Master Luke. All three of us.”

Amalia and I exchanged glances.

“Well...I just don’t think that what Luke taught was true,” Amalia said, her words brusque, but her tone uncharacteristically gentle. “Not because he’s a liar. Because he’s misguided. I think he learned and taught an incorrect understanding of the Force.”

“I just don’t really care what’s true because my life is just work and rent and whatever little time I get to myself to have fun, and the last time I was interested in the Force I got super abused and manipulated,” I said.

“But we used to all accept the same things as truth,” said Fannie. "I just...don't know what's different."

“We were younger then. People change as they grow up. Not everyone believes the same things at twenty-five that they did at fifteen,” Amalia said.

“I’ve sure changed a lot. Not just regarding the Force, but all over,” I said.

Fannie sighed, and started to look a little sad. And then...I felt an impression brush up against the outside of my mind—it was the three of us, at Luke's school: Amalia and I a little smaller than we were right now and Fannie exactly the same size, hair and lekku and montrals all a little shorter—the three of us, dressed in Jedi robes, Fannie's with the ruffles she'd sewn on, mine plain and rough and ugly, Amalia's with the sleeves cut short—sitting in the grass and comparing notes scrawled from lessons with Uncle Luke—discussing the light side of the Force and the dark, meditating together—Amalia and I goofing off while Fannie tried in vain to reel us back in—Fannie and I teaming up to talk Amalia away from the deep end when she was losing her mind—me watching in absolute jealousy while Fannie and Amalia sparred—Fannie's saber against the saber that was once Amalia's but now sat sadly on a special shelf in my uncle's office—Amalia had no idea how often I'd caught Luke gazing wistfully at it, back when I used to still meet with him for counseling—

All that in a flash, and then I turned and looked and saw it all in Fannie’s eyes, and my heart felt heavy for her. And I realized that...letting Amalia and I go our own way was a sort of bitter loss for Fan, a source of grief that I couldn’t really understand—but I could feel it—an anchor dragging her below the surface—my friend, the girl I loved, the girl with the great big heart like an open wound, the girl who yearned for the galaxy to make sense.

I put my arm around her shoulder without really thinking about it, and brushed the backs of my fingers against her cheek to comfort her. And gave her a little nudge like, hey, things are okay, I’m still here, right?

“Oh my frick,” said Amalia, who I’d temporarily forgotten about, in a tone of voice like she was witnessing the eighth wonder of the galaxy. “I had to see it to believe it. But I just saw it, and I still don’t know if I believe it.”

Fannie and I looked at each other uncomfortably. We hadn’t been planning to tell her. Or anyone, really. Not for a while. But acting close with each other had just become sort of natural to us. I withdrew my arm and Fannie scooted ever-so-slightly further away from me.

Amalia shook her head. “I mean. Look. Sure. You guys are kind of cute, not gonna lie. But I’m just gonna say it: you two shouldn’t be together.”

I was stunned. That was really so not her business.

“Okay. Cool. Who asked you?” I replied, more than a little annoyed.

“Nobody, but you know that I always say what I think, just like you do, Ben,” she said. “Think about the whole conversation we’ve just had. I mean. Do you guys not see how incompatible your worldviews are? Do you not think you’re gonna have issues down the line trying to reconcile your values?”

I looked at Fannie, almost afraid she’d agree. But she looked upset, and not agreeable in the least, and I felt better. I turned back to Amalia's hologram.

“We have a lot of differences, yeah. But we’re willing to work through them and accept each other as we are, and that’s that,” I said stiffly.

“Ben’s been through a lot,” said Fannie. “I can forgive that he has trouble connecting with the Force.”

“Hey, I’ve been through a lot, too!” said Amalia. “But I still believe in something. I believe in something, Fannie—he doesn’t believe in anything. And he doesn’t have trouble connecting with the Force—that man is sprinting in the opposite direction as fast as he freaking can.”

“Hey, I said I believe in the Force,” I said defensively. “It’s pretty hard not to, when people can use it to make things float and stuff.”

“And he’s Luke’s own nephew, for goodness’ sake!” Fannie said.

“He's also the grandson of one of the biggest Sith Lords who ever lived. But I don’t think it really matters who he’s related to, or if he believes the Force exists, if he doesn’t care,” said Amalia. “Be honest with yourself, Fannie. Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with someone who doesn’t have a purpose and doesn’t know why he’s alive, except to make money and have fun?”

“Listen, Mal,” I said. “Not all of us are cut out for seeing the grand scope of some cosmic order and imagining we have a part in it. Some of us just wanna live our lives—”

But Fannie interrupted me.

“You’re jealous, Amalia,” she said, unusually nasty, unusually venomous. We both stared at her. “You’re jealous. You’re jealous! You liked him, too. I know you did. And you’re jealous that he chose me.”

That seemed to hit kind of a nerve with Amalia. I’m not sure why. Either it was true…or it was so untrue that it pissed her off to even hear the idea suggested. She raised her brow and sucked in her cheeks and blinked a little, as if to say…well, damn, alrighty then.

“…Okay,” she said, sounding less-than-friendly, but less-than-frigid. “Weeell. That sounds like a great place to call it quits. Nice talking with you both, and I wish y’all the best. Talk to you later, Ben. And, Fannie…good luck.” And then she signed off, before I could even say anything.

I looked at Fan desperately, hoping we could have some kind of debrief, but…she stood up with a huff and stormed off too.

Geez. Three things that are complicated: 1) religion, 2) growing up, and 3) girls.

#askbensolo #written #ben's diary #fannie #amalia #the force #jedi school #ben tells a story #yes i have heard of the dathomirian force gods. no i do not really care (although i reserve the right to start caring later)#you know? they make a good trio of characters. they all play off each other really well.#fannie and amalia share a strong conviction for the force but don’t see the force the same #ben and amalia have both abandoned the path of the Jedi but in completely opposite directions #and ben and fannie…care about each other more than anything (for better or worse) but have fundamentally different outlooks on life #these are some tasty tasty little characters 🍿#Amalia…being…..more hinged than fannie for once??? omg.

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kytiapseud · 2 months ago

Text

Gaze, Chapter 7

Chapter list

Pairing: Roman/Logan/Virgil

wordcount: 3566

warnings: violence

Notes: A Role Reversal inspired by @edupunkn00b 's work 'Beside Me'. Let me know if you think I should add a tag list for this series, or if anyone is interested.

Roman couldn’t believe that just happened. Logan was trying to soothe him and reassure him they were almost there, but it wasn’t working yet. He had just seen his brother, who he wasn’t sure if he would see again. And he attacked him. He felt so sick at the lack of control. Roman had done all this for him! Yet this ended up putting Remus in danger. His plan had backfired immensely.

Logan was still holding Roman’s arm as they got to the club. Virgil opened the door for them before joining them inside. The experience of entering the club was very different from the first time. Every sensation around him was heightened now. The great scents of need, want, and blood surrounded him, pushing in. He staggered from the overwhelming stimuli.

Logan stepped closer to Roman and adjusted his hold so he now had a strong arm wrapped around Roman’s waist. Still firm, but also grounding. Logan rubbed his thumb in little circles on Roman’s side.

Logan murmured next to his ear. “Just hang on and breath. You’re safe here, alright? All you need to do right now is breathe.” He met Roman’s eyes, nodding slowly.

Yeah, focusing on Logan seemed to be helping. Roman nodded back, copying his slower breathing, which made Logan smile.

“That’s it, my Prince, just breathe.” Patton walked around the bar to greet them.

“Welcome on in, everyone!” He smiled, giving Virgil and Roman a little bow. Then he clasped hands with Logan, shaking his free hand with both of his.

“Logan, you look well,” He said quietly as he leaned in, glancing at Virgil.

Logan frowned briefly, “Yes, I am well, thank you.”

Patton turned to Virgil. “Vee? It’s good to see you again.” Virgil smiled, swaying to the music. Even through his haze of hunger, Roman noticed that Patton was careful not to look Virgil in the eyes. Come to think of it, Roman wasn’t feeling the same draw to Patton that he got from some of the other people in the club. Patton is a vampire, too, Roman thought. Patton turned, smiling at Roman, looking him in the eyes. “Hi there, I’m Patton! We haven’t met formally.”

Logan tightened his grip on Roman’s waist. “This is Roman.” Patton raised an eyebrow and gave Logan a searching look. Logan looked away.

“We need a booth, please.”

Patton smiled broadly. “Of course, I’m happy you came. All of you. There’s a nice booth in the back.” He started to walk back into the club with a skip to his step. He waved them to follow. “C’mon, I’ll show you.”

Logan kept a grip on Roman as they walked past other tables and along the edge of the dance floor. At each table, conversations stilled. Both vampiric and human eyes followed them. Roman caught some snippets of whispers ‘…Logan sired…’, ‘…is he…?’, ‘don’t believe it…’, ‘…Logan really…?’ It certainly wasn’t the first time he’d been connected to the source of whispers. Let alone experiencing how all eyes were in his direction, but everyone was looking just past him. While there was some relief at not being the main topic, he still felt just as torn about who it was towards.

Patton gestured to a circular booth and they slid into their seats, Logan in the middle, facing out. Virgil sat on his right, and Roman to Logan’s left. Patton smiled again. “I’ll go get some drinks for ya.” Logan nodded a silent thanks.

“Patton choose this booth for us because it's close to the air vent, bringing in fresh air from outside.” Logan placed a calming hand on Roman’s thigh.

Roman had started to observe several couples on the dance floor, swaying to the music. Roman dragged his attention away. He sucked in a breath and tried to listen to Logan.

“Soon, Roman, soon.”

Virgil hesitantly leaned on Logan’s other shoulder. His brow furrowed and lips parted as he watched Roman’s shaking hands.

Patton appeared with two bottles gripped in one hand and three glasses balanced in the other. With a flourish, he leaned across the table, setting out their glasses. He poured whiskey into Logan’s glass. Then he held the two bottles out before Roman. Roman pointed to the juice bottle. Patton nodded and filled the other two glasses with juice. Roman drained half his glass in one gulp.

“So…” Patton grinned, “It seems the rumor is true.”

Logan sipped at his whiskey while Virgil leaned against him. He rocked to the music and still stared at Roman’s hands. Roman blinked, glancing between Logan and Patton. “What rumor?”

“I saw you here, recently. And it was the last time Logan was in here too. You left with Yann.” Roman swallowed, looking down at the glass in his hands. “Rumor has it that Yann was caught hurting a mortal and Logan’s hunter friends took care of him.”

Logan voice went low. “There are certain lines we do not allow to be crossed in this city. Taking what isn’t willingly offered is one of them.” Patton nodded as he topped off their drinks. “It was an important reminder.”

Patton looked closely at Virgil. “How are you, Vee?”

Virgil looked away from Roman, eyes unfocused as he wrapped his arms tighter around Logan’s bicep. “I feel great, Patton. It’s a beautiful evening.” Logan leaned over, kissing the top of his head. He lifted his silvery eyes to Patton, nodding.

“So you’re only here for…” Patton tilted his chin towards Roman.

Logan nodded once. “Who’s around tonight?” Patton tilted his head, looking closely at Roman. Under the scrutiny, he became acutely aware of how much his hands were trembling. He tried to control his panting. Despite his attempt at restraint, his eyes still darted around the club. Frequently coming back to rest on Virgil. Patton squinted at him before finally humming.

“I know just the right person,” He said.

Logan nodded. “I expected as much.” He did glance to Virgil though. Roman was starting to shake so badly that he could no longer hold his glass. Logan reached out a calming hand to stroke the back of Roman’s neck.

“I’ll go get him,” Patton said before gliding away.

When Patton had left, Roman leaned closer to Logan, fighting to ignore the fire in his chest. He sought any distraction he could find. “What did he mean, your ‘Hunter friends?’” Logan continued to gently massage the back of Roman’s neck. Roman leaned into the touch, the sensation grounding him.

“Ah, well some hunters are aware that I can be trusted.”

“And how do you show this?” Roman asked.

“I direct them to vampires that have become too dangerous. My intel pans out and my record of not harming innocents speaks for itself.”

Logan drew Roman closer, kissing the side of his head. His voice got low in pitch as he said, “I told you he would pay for what he did to you.” Roman shivered a bit at the voice.

“Well, there is something I’m grateful for because of him.” Logan frowned in confusion. He opened his mouth to comment, when Roman cupped Logan’s cheek in one shaking hand, meeting his eyes. Logan’s sharp expression softened and he leaned into Roman’s hand.

“Because of him, I was able to meet you.” He shifted his eyes briefly in Virgil’s direction.

“You either, Virgil.”

Patton returned to the table with another. The man was a similar size and build to Patton, skinny but not too much. Maybe average height. He stood out more with his magenta hair though, and also wore glasses. The man wore a tan sweater over a white undershirt that was visible through the v in the neck. Some of the sweater buttons were undone though, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Probably from the heat. At the collar of the white undershirt was a pink tie, but it was undone and hanging off either side.

Virgil frowned when he saw the man, glancing at Logan and Roman, nearly catching his eye. Roman quickly looked away. He remembered Logan’s words earlier about not realizing how quickly a thrall could start.

“Logan, Virgil, I’m sure you remember my friend Emile.” Patton turned to Roman. “This is my friend Emile. He’s anxious to get to know you, Roman.” Emile smiled and presented his hand to Roman. To shake, kiss…or bite, Roman wasn’t sure. He also wasn’t sure he wouldn’t do all three if he touched him.

“Hiya! It’s so nice to meet you,” Emile said. He put his hand down but moved closer. “May I join you?” Roman’s mouth fell open and Logan intoned, “Thank you, Patton, for the introduction.” Patton lingered for a moment, then he nodded before leaving.

“Please sit down, Emile, next to me,” Logan nodded at Roman, and Roman stood. He eased back and gave Emile a wide berth before following him. Then he slid back into the booth with Emile seated between him and Logan. A scowling Virgil on Logan’s other side. Roman looked at Virgil, eyebrows knit together. Logan noticed Roman’s expression as well. He drew Virgil closer to him, wrapping his arm around him and letting his hand trail down to his waist. Virgil melted into the embrace, scowl softening.

Virgil kept his sharp eyes trained on Emile, though, even as he sipped at his own drink.

“I’m so glad to be able to help you guys out again,” Emile said then shivered a bit in anticipation. He coughed. Then he stretched in his seat, tilting his head from side to side.

“I’d be happy to help take care of both of you tonight. Although since it’s been a while, I’ll need a breather in between.”

Virgil frowned even more. There was fire in his eyes as he started to lean forward as though to speak. But Logan touched his cheek, smiling gently at him. Virgil leaned back against Logan’s shoulder, but continued to glare at Emile. Emile frowned a bit at Virgil’s response but didn’t say anything.

“That won’t be necessary, Emile. You’re only here for our friend Roman tonight,” Logan said. Emile hummed, glancing over all of them before nodding.

“Alright.” He started reaching for Roman’s glass.

“May I?” he asked Roman with a smile. Roman nodded, afraid to speak. Afraid to open his mouth, or let his lips part because once they did all he wanted to do was grab this man and- Emile took a sip of Roman’s juice, letting his eyes flutter closer. Licking his lips when he’d finished.

“It’s okay if you’re feeling shy, hunny.” Emile slid a little closer. He smiled again and let out a little giggle.

“I don’t mind some bite.” He tilted his head, exposing the long line of his neck. “That’s why I’m here.” Roman trembled with the effort not to pull him in his lap and sink his teeth into that luscious skin.

“Shhh” Emile looked at him coyly as he trailed his fingers down Roman’s chest, whispering, “You’re okay to take what you need. Please…I want you to.”

Roman growled and pulled Emile toward him, piercing his soft, warm skin with his teeth. He drank, losing all awareness of anything that wasn’t the taste of Emile.

The passage of time felt murky as he sat with his head leaning back on the upper edge of the booth. Emile was on his knees next to him, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Are you alright, hun?” He wiped a bit of blood from the corner of his mouth, offering his thumb to lick it clean. When Roman still doesn’t respond to that, Emile bites his lip, watching the dazed expression on his face. He turned to Logan, who was observing their every movement. Emile looked closer at Roman, “Oh, I really am your first human, hm?... well I’m happy to offer again when you’re up for it.”

“Pretty sure he’s done now,” Virgil said in a low voice to Emile.

Emile frowned. “Oh, okay. Of course I wouldn’t want to push. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be part of any drama.”

Logan shook his head. “Don’t worry, Emile. You’re fine. It is what you think.”

Emile relaxed at that. “Okay, good. Well, you know I’m always eager to assist.” Emile pecked Logan’s cheek and then Roman’s. He swung one leg over Roman’s lap, climbing over him. He pressed his body into his chest. He slowly sliding over him to get out of the booth. The unbitten side of his neck happening to pass towards Roman’s open mouth as he did so. He blew a kiss to all three of them.

“Well, this was fun as always.” He gently patted Roman’s slack cheek. “Take care, hun.”

Virgil watched him slip away for a moment before turning his gaze back to Roman. Logan had drawn Roman near, closing the distance between them again. He pulled Roman against his side, letting him rest his head against his shoulder. Logan then brought his hand into Roman’s curls to gently massage his scalp. Virgil leaned against Logan, watching. He whispered to Logan, “Is he…alright?”

Logan hummed and nodded, “Roman will be fine. He just needs a few minutes.” Looking unconvinced, Virgil sipped at his drink, keeping watch over the two of them.

Before the song ended, Roman’s eyes grew more focused and he sat up.

“Welcome back,” Logan murmured, “How do you feel?” Roman took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was still very aware of every human in the room. Especially Virgil, and now Emile having tasted his blood so recently. But it was more of a gentle buzzing that he could push off, less the screaming alarm demanding his attention.

“Better. I can think again.”

Logan sighed and nodded. “Apologies, I thought I had the situation handled. Emile is quite experienced. Typically he has no problem pulling away if he senses something is wrong, although-“ Roman frowned before turning his head to glance at Logan. He grabbed Logan’s hand and kissed his knuckles.

“Hey, it’s okay. Not your fault. This was new for all of us.”

“Has Emile been a vampire’s first human before?” Virgil asked. Logan and Roman both looked to him at that question.

“I would presume so,” Logan said. Virgil hummed with a frown but didn’t say anything else.

“Well either way, even if that wasn’t the case, everyone is still alright,” Roman said. Logan sighed and nodded.

“I suppose you have a point there.” Virgil didn’t seem convinced.

Roman raised an eyebrow and playfully smirked. “You suppose?”

Logan rolled his eyes but he was smiling. “Alright, yes I concede.”

Roman raised a fist in the air. “Yeah!”

Virgil snorted, Roman’s silliness apparently helping his mood. Logan played exasperation, but the smile showed his own amusement as well. Roman smirked and winked at Virgil. Causing Virgil to sputter and blush. Roman looked pleased with himself at the reaction. He looked around the club.

“So…what now?”

“Hm,” Logan considered. “Lets have Vee decide.” He gently lifted Virgil’s chin, “What would you like to do?”

Virgil looked around the dance floor, and then shyly back up at Logan. “Can we dance?” Logan lifted Virgil’s hand to his mouth, kissing it twice. “What a wonderful way to end the evening.”

Roman slid out and stood up while the other two got out the other side. But then he paused. Was that for all three of them? But then Virgil turned to him.

“Aren’t you joining us?” Virgil asked with a half smirk. He stepped towards Roman and grabbed his hand.

“I…I wasn’t sure…” Roman stammered. Virgil snorted.

“Don’t be too much like me, Princey. Just come on.”

Virgil met his eyes. Roman nodded, deciding he wanted to go with the fluttering in his chest, a smile spreading on his face. -

A few hours later, the three waved goodnight to Patton. Roman sighed in content after enjoying himself like that. He nearly forgot about the incident that followed that day. Before they had entered the club. As it came back to him, Roman frowned though.

“Hey, Logan…Remus probably isn’t in that same spot anymore, is he?” Roman asked. Logan turned to him.

“…I would imagine not, no.” Roman would forever hate how poor the timing had been on their encounter earlier.

“We can always still look for him when we get to that spot again though,” Logan said. Roman looked back at him. He was pretty sure Logan didn’t actually think that would be fruitful. But he appreciated the sentiment anyways.

“Okay,” Roman said quietly.

“…that was your brother, wasn’t it?” Virgil asked. Roman nodded. He didn’t even feel like sassing how that wasn’t obvious.

They were only a few feet from the bar’s exit though when a tall man suddenly blocked the sidewalk. He wore a black overcoat and military surplus pants covered in tactical gear. He also had a scar that cut across the entire left side of his face. His nearly gold eyes bored into them. Roman felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end as Logan stepped between them.

Virgil gasped, then whispered in Roman’s ear. “A hunter.”

Roman stepped forward to be next to Logan, shoulder-to-shoulder, shielding Virgil.

“I thought the hunters around here were your friends,” he murmured to Logan.

“What? Where would you ever get such an idea like that?” The hunter asked in faux surprise, voice dripping with obvious sarcasm. Then he dropped the act and smirked.

“Hmm, there are a few Judas types in the hunter community,” He said. He got out a stake and acted like he was cleaning his nails with it…like he didn’t obviously have yellow gloves in the way.

“Personally, I’m with those who wouldn’t take the word of a bloodsucker.”

Virgil snarled at him. “Shouldn’t you keep your little pet on a leash, L?”

“Don’t call him that,” Logan’s voice came out in a growl.

The hunter spun his stake and pointed it at them. Roman reacted immediately. He grabbed the Hunter’s wrist and twisted, making him drop the stake. Then he pushed him against the rough brick wall. He kicked at the Hunter’s knee and they folded. He fell to the ground for a moment before leaping back up with a roar. He grabbed Roman’s throat and slammed him into the bricks.

Slightly dazed with liquid dripping from his scalp, Roman pushed off the wall. Then he stomped on the hunter’s foot. He punched and kicked until the hunter was on the ground, motionless. Logan picked up Virgil, carrying him over his shoulder as though he was weightless. Then he grabbed Roman’s hand and they ran. -

Remus should have known something was up. Egos said he had something to take care of tonight/ Remus didn’t want to start the werewolf transformation without him so he waited . It may not be a good idea to go after someone while he was still like this, but Remus didn’t always make the best decisions. He went back the path Egos had taken him through when he brought him to the house that the pack members stayed in. Then he made his way back towards the club, following a gut feeling. Egos was acting strange to Remus when he asked about what he had to take care of.

Could this be his paranoia? Maybe. But he guessed it made sense with what happened with his brother earlier. When he got within a few blocks of the club, he was glad he had followed his gut. Egos laid on the ground, unconscious. He did not look good.

“No!” Remus ran towards him and knelt by his new friend. He resisted the urge to try and shake them awake. What had happened? Was it a vampire attack?...did he go after vampires unprovoked? Remus didn’t want to doubt Egos, but trust didn’t come easy to him. He could figure that out later. Okay, try to look over where injuries might be. He inspected Egos.

Definitely head for him to be unconscious, surely. With how much coverage Egos wore, it would be hard to tell. Well, he still needed help. Hospital? Remus hated hospitals. He wasn’t sure how they could help a werewolf anyways. So, get help from the pack then. He felt over Janus, trying to find where a phone could be. (and trying to ignore how his thoughts wanted to turn the motions sexual). After finding the phone and pulling it out, he discovered it was of course locked. Remus groaned. He should have gotten other contact information before leaving the pack house.

“Guess I’m carrying you,” Remus said. He would somehow have to find a way to do so…and without looking suspicious.

Remus carefully put his arms under Egos to lift him up in a princess carry.

Remus may not know what caused this altercation. But the truth was this man had still offered Remus a chance at a second life. A way to no longer deal with the voices that constantly ruined his life. He wanted to help the person who gave Remus this chance. He could deal with any complicated stuff later.

He really hoped this would turn out alright though.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #ts roman #ts logan #vampire au #logince #ts virgil #sanders sides fic #analogical #prinxiety #human/vampire #emile picani

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