#I know it sort or hits some of the same beats as Far From Home but I did not realize that as I was writing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blessedwithabadomen · 21 days

Text

in love with the mess - day eleven

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : smut (p in v, fingering dirty talk), angst, fluff

length : 6k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken @justeli6 @starvingarsyn @floatinglikeaswan @blacksoul-27 @somebodyels3 @kageyasma @spikeisdaddy @broken0mens

a/n : Enjoy!! Leave a comment if you do hehe 💕

•••

day eleven

What on earth was one supposed to do when everything they’d ever craved, ever needed without quite knowing that they’d needed it at all, suddenly seemed to appear right at their fingertips while knowing that every move toward it would only make it recede further?

Waking up in an empty bed had flooded my brain with loneliness, feelings of rejection, a cold seeping into my bones, just for a moment, completely automatically, but then the rest of my senses loaded in and as soon as my hearing permitted me to realise I was far from alone in the apartment, my whole body relaxed again. A chaotic mixture of shouting and uninhibited laughter filtered through the open door, interrupted by the tell-tale noises of pots and pans and everything else Oli’s kitchen had to offer. Then, slowly but surely, the scent of coffee reached my nostrils. I inhaled it deeply, turning onto my back and snuggling into the blankets for another minute.

How cruel was the world to gift me this moment? I wanted to sink into the bliss this morning provided. The domesticity. The soft wake-up, the realisation that Oli and Noah were preparing breakfast, the gentle lull of the bed that promised a future that could look exactly like this.

Could it? The pull at my heart stung more painfully than ever. The clarity that all I wanted seemed so close and yet unattainable hit me harder than before. I didn’t want to assume that either Oli or Noah were doing it with any ill intent, but the way they kept dangling this possibility in front of my face hurt all the same. What would it take to get this for real? Every morning of my life? My whole body seemed to ache with the love I had for them.

I was on the verge of giving up. Not giving up either of them or this thing we had going on. Giving up on being quiet. Giving up on hiding my feelings, lying about what my heart was screaming for, making myself and my needs smaller than they were. Maybe then, we would stand a chance. Maybe if I was being honest with them, they could be honest with me too. If only there was any sort of knowledge that their truth would bear the same content as mine.

Five more days of this tour. Five more days until we would, in some capacity, have to part ways. Oli was going back home to finish the album. Noah was heading on another tour. I was… well, packing up my things and trying to find a place to stay. How much longer would I manage to keep my mouth shut? I didn’t just want to blurt out a confession of love, hit them out of nowhere, possibly scare them away with my intensity. But I would have to speak up, sooner or later. Before the tour was over. I couldn’t leave without letting them know, even if it meant the end of things. Even if it changed my relationship with Oli irredeemably. Even if it meant never having Noah again. I’d simply have to find the right moment.

Or rather, moments. I wasn’t sure if telling both of them at the same time would be wise. They were two individual people that each deserved my undivided attention. As much as my heart was beating for both of them, it would be wrong to pretend it had the same quality with both. I’d known Oli for years, a crush that had been steadily growing, going dormant and growing again. Noah had only appeared on the scene recently, even if he’d caught my heart with no difficulties at all. But it was different. Every love was. Their own, the one between them, was too.

A loud clatter pulled me out of my thoughts. It was followed by a beat of silence and then rambunctious laughter. The smile on my face appeared involuntarily at the sound. Rolling myself out of the sheets, I quickly looked for something to put on, remembering I only had my dress from last night. Pulling a few drawers open, I located an oversized sweatshirt in Oli’s closet that I allowed myself to put on along with a pair of clean boxershorts. My underwear from last night was too sticky to even consider it.

The kitchen was a mess when I entered. It seemed like the two of them had made it their mission to open every single cupboard and then proceeded to place every single item in there somewhere completely different. In between, some cooking that wanted to be an English breakfast had happened. Still, as soon as I was spotted, shuffling toward them on bare feet, Oli made quick work of fixing a plate for me with whatever hadn’t gotten burned or landed on the ground in their mayhem.

“I promise, I actually know how to cook,” Noah whispered in my ear as he hugged me good morning, his hands moving upwards on my thighs until they disappeared under Oli’s shirt. “Not so sure about him though.”

We both turned to watch Oli plate some more stuff for Noah and himself, some of it looking suspiciously black, but he was obviously trying so hard to make it a good breakfast meal that my heart couldn’t help but flutter at the sight.

It was perfect. Too perfect.

•••

The morning was filled with half-edible food, giggles over the breakfast table and slow, lazy kisses on the couch as we took turns showering. Oli ended up lending Noah and me some clothes that definitely looked more ridiculous on me than it ever did on those two men, but it was still better than trying to make do with last night’s outfits again. It still very much felt like a walk of shame when the cab driver all but dropped us back off at the hotel. I almost asked if Oli would mind us grabbing our suitcases and going right back to his place to stay there for another night until we had to get going to London. But I didn’t.

Noah and I had planned to make a quick dash to our respective rooms to change into clothes that actually belonged in our closets while Oli would make his way to the venue, but the plan was foiled when we realised that the rest of Bad Omens were gathered in the hotel lobby, chatting and… well, probably waiting for Noah before heading to the arena together. Unfortunately, that also meant that the three of us were the topic of conversation as soon as we got spotted.

Folio saw us first, his eyes moving back and forth between us, then up and down our bodies as he seemed to realise what we were wearing. He gave a low wolf whistle that briefly caught the attention of every uninvolved person in the lobby, but he didn’t mind at all as he approached us with a big smile on his face.

“Noah! We’d been wondering where you were. You could have told us you were spending the night with your boyfriend and your girlfriend!”

In an instant, Noah’s face had taken on a blush like no other. He dropped my hand as if caught in some sort of compromising situation, his eyes darting everywhere but me or Oli.

“Very funny, Folio,” he mumbled, but there was no humour in his voice.

“Come one, you all look like you’ve had a very good night,” the drummer continued, harshly slapping Noah’s shoulder in what I assumed was supposed to be a friendly, if teasing, gesture. “No need to be shy about it.”

But Noah wasn’t shy about it. Not exactly. Noah was… somewhere between embarrassed and terrified. At least that was what he looked like. The shuffling of his feet, the way he played with the hem of the shirt and then suddenly let go as if stung by the realisation it was Oli’s, the restless energy. Even Folio backed off suddenly.

“I need to change,” Noah announced and before anyone had the chance to stop him or even say a single word, he had set off towards the lifts. He needed to change. He didn’t say he was going to. He needed to. It set off all the alarm bells in my head. I couldn’t let this whole situation run off its course again, whatever the course was. But I also knew better than to push Noah into what would only result in him withdrawing and refusing to talk altogether.

“We should talk to him,” Oli piped up next to me.

“We should. But not now. Bryan needs you for pictures and then you’ve got soundcheck. I’ll meet you at the arena, yeah?”

Oli nodded, not quite convinced, but knowing that his schedule called for him. We’d already taken the whole morning off, it was time to get back to work. I moved to quickly press my lips to his cheek before heading to my room as well, but he stopped me, hand on my neck, leading me exactly where he wanted me.

And then, in public, and in front of everyone still watching us, Oli Sykes kissed me.

•••

“Aubrey! Just the person I was hoping to see!”

I stopped dead in my tracks at Becky’s voice. I’d successfully maneouvered Oli from soundcheck back to his dressing room where he’d have a bite to eat in preparation for the show when I decided to see what sort of mood Noah would be in. If it was time to talk to him yet. As much as he preferred to battle his demons alone some times, there was a point where he would simply end up overthinking and, at worst, grabbing some bottles again, and I wanted to stop that process by all means necessary.

However, I’d only just made it into the general standing area of the venue when Becky called me over. I shot one more look at Noah on stage, in the middle of his own soundcheck and seemingly miles away in his mind, before walking over to the sound booth.

“So, slight trouble ahead,” she said, kneading her hands awkwardly. “Someone on the team is having a family emergency and he needs to leave after the show. Which means we’re good for tonight, but we’re a pair of hands short in London. I have some contacts for the Dublin show so that won’t be a problem, but no one is available for the next two days on such short notice. I’ve already talked to Oli and Noah and they agreed so I thought I’d ask if you could help out for those gigs?”

My brain was whirling with the amount of information she’d just dropped on me. But it was one particular piece it got stuck on - why had she asked Noah? Oli was a given, considering I was technically his employee and he’d have to do without me if I was gone during soundcheck and the actual show, but Noah didn’t make any sense.

“Noah?” I questioned, more to myself than anything else and Becky interrupted me immediately.

“Will you? Please say yes. It’s important. Really.”

“Sure,” I smiled, even though I felt anything but sure at that moment in time. Still, she needed help and if I could be of any use, it would be ridiculous to decline.

“Perfect!” she exclaimed, reaching over the barrier to pull me into a hug. “You won’t regret it!”

I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean either.

•••

Noah vanished right after soundcheck, which seemed to be a special talent of his. All of his usual hiding spots came up empty and if he’d left the venue in some capacity, there was no way I’d be able to track him. Trying the dressing room one more time, I opened the door, just a small gap, to peek inside, but the only person present at all was Nicholas.

To my surprise, he waved me in. I followed the invitation gratefully - not only was I out of ideas on where to find Noah before the show, I also didn't have anything else on my schedule for the day. Plus, I'd not really had the time to hang out with anyone apart from Oli and Noah lately.

A beer was thrust in my general direction as soon as I sat down on the other end of the couch. It wasn't my favourite, but I took it anyway.

“So, Aubrey, how are you doing today?”

I stared at Nicholas with the most suspicious look I could muster. “Nick, in the ten days we've been in this tour together, we've not once made silly small talk.”

He chuckled, a little nervously, a little caught out, but he looked so sweet that I couldn't even pretend to be mad. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that.”

The silence settled between us for a moment, but I didn’t mind. I figured he’d called me in here for a reason, and I’d give him as much time as he wanted to needed to figure our what to say.

“Would you mind if we stole Noah away for the night?”

“What? I mean, of course. He’s your friend, you don’t need my permission to hang out with him.”

I had been hoping to spend the night with both him and Oli again. Go pack to his place. Maybe have a quiet night in before the four-hour drive to London tomorrow. Get some takeaway. Stare out of Oli’s windows to watch the city as it fell asleep and woke back up. But with Noah making an abrupt exit this morning at the hotel and being basically untraceable ever since, my hopes had been dwindling anyway.

“‘Course, ‘course,” Nicky mumbled, briefly looking up at me with a smile. “I’m not complaining about you spending time with him, by the way. But we…” He looked contemplative, as if trying to decide how much to tell me. “We sat down together, Folio, Jolly and I, for lunch today and we decided we need to talk to him. Because, well, he seems very happy to hang out with you and Oli but then it takes one comment from Folio and he just closes off completely.”

I’d seen it first-hand, more than once. They were right to be concerned, too. With all the fun we were having among the three of us, reality kept punching Noah in the gut relentlessly. I still wasn’t entirely sure what sort of demons he was battling, but they were weighing heavily on his mind and impacting his moods. The other three were probably both worried about his ability to perform as their frontman and how he was coping as their friend. And as much as Oli and I needed to talk to him, sooner or later, maybe what he needed right now was the people he’d known for years.

“I know,” I sighed in response. “He switches from extremely carefree to withdrawn and pissed off in a split second sometimes. An evening with the guys will probably do him good. If… I don’t know if it’s appropriate, but if he says anything, you know… I don’t know, that would be helpful to know… I know you don’t know me very well but I genuinely just want what’s best for him and I’m at a complete loss sometimes.”

Nicky’s hand on my shoulder was so reassuring, I suddenly felt like I had to bite back tears. “I’ll let you know. Unless we somehow get him to grow some balls and talk to you himself.”

I giggled, pushing away the emotions, leaning slightly into his touch, simply glad to know Noah was surrounded by people who really cared about him and his wellbeing. Even if that included bullying him on the low when he was being a diva about communicating properly. He deserved it, to be honest.

“So, what’s the plan for tonight then? Hope it’s not an intervention because that’ll probably make him run for the hills immediately.”

“No,” Nicky laughed slightly. “We’re just going to call it a guys’ night. Take him out after the show. Have a beer.”

I couldn’t help but raise my eyebrow at him a little bit. Somehow, he caught it immediately. The questioning look on his face compelled me to talk.

“He’s been… drinking. I don’t know if that’s a general pattern with him, but, sometimes, it’s to the point where he doesn’t remember things the next morning.”

Nicholas seemed more somber than he had been the entire conversation. The way something flashed in his eyes, just for a moment, told me enough. Enough to know that this wasn’t exactly the first time he might have gone down that road. And that they were well aware of it, too.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. Promise.”

I nodded, finally getting up from the couch with a heavy sigh, my almost untouched beer still in my hand. “Well. I’m going to need the rundown tomorrow. And if I don’t see you again before you leave, good luck.”

“I might need it.”

•••

Some days, things just tended to go wrong. And while, a lot of the time, I could accept that, be gentle with myself and move on, today was not like that. At all. What had started as a lovely morning with Noah and Oli had quickly spiralled into worries about the former, then feelings of confusion and being slightly overwhelmed at suddenly working with Becky for the next two days. I couldn’t find Noah anywhere, but I’d all but given up on that since the conversation with Nicky. I’d check up on the situation tomorrow, when, hopefully, some things were cleared up. At least in Noah’s head.

But then my AAA pass went missing. It wasn’t a massive problem, excluding the embarrassment of having to let people know that the person who was responsible for keeping Oli in check and organised had managed to misplace what was probably the single most important item on any given tour date. What bothered me much more was the fact that I’d attached my Powerfuff Girls keychain to it, as I’d been doing every day since I’d bought it.

Lee was the one to find me, near tears, picking apart Oli’s dressing room to no success.

“Alright, let’s walk through your day then. You’ve obviously had it when you arrived here or you wouldn’t have gotten in. Where did you go from there?”

I knew he technically didn’t have the time to run this through, but I was simply too distraught to send him away, silently grateful for his help as we re-traced my steps from Oli’s dressing room to the sound desk and catering to all the hallways I could have possibly walked. Additionally, both of us had shot messages into any group chats we were part of, but so far no one had replied with positive news.

“Wait, is that-”

Lee was pointing slightly further ahead in the hallway. I was there in an instant. There, on top of one of the boxes, was, indeed, a backstage pass. Adorned with my name. Only - there was no charm on it.

“But- that doesn’t make sense!” I exclaimed, turning the item over in my hands, then bending down to study the floor around the box. “If I’d lost it, it would surely be on the ground and not up here, right? And if someone picked it up, they could have given it back to me, because my name is on it. And why is the keychain missing? There’s no reason for it to detach!”

Lee shrugged his shoulders, not quite as bewildered as I was, but I figured he also didn’t have as much personal attachment to a keychain. I had the pass back, which should be all that mattered, probably.

“Aubrey! Aubrey, help!”

Oli’s voice echoed through the hallway. He didn’t sound like he was in any imminent danger, but I still set off as soon as I’d reattached the pass, finding him in the middle of his dressing room. He stood in the most awkward, uncomfortable way, his head strangely bent down toward his shoulder. I was about to question it when he turned around, showing me exactly what the dilemma was.

“My hair!”

I didn’t know how he’d done it, but some of his strands were caught up in the rings of his black jacket. I bit back a smile, very unsuccessfully.

“How the fuck did you do that,” I giggled, unable to hold the noise back as soon as I opened my mouth.

“Does it matter? Help me out!”

With laughter still wrecking my chest, I started fumbling with his hair and the accessories on his jacket, trying to be as delicate as possible as he kept making noises of pain even when nothing was actually tugging on his scalp. Drama queen. I finally pulled him free, giving him a soft kiss, before toying with his outfit until it was perfectly in place.

“Thank you, love,” he said, suddenly mellow. His hands were toying with my hair now, mindlessly playing with the strands as he stared at me. I felt as naked and vulnerable under his stare as I felt protected. “Can I invite you over to mine again tonight?”

“You don’t even have to ask. Can we grab my suitcase this time though? I’d rather not do another walk of shame tomorrow morning.”

“Anything you want.”

I almost melted at how soft he was. I wasn’t sure if it was me or the fact that he was in his hometown, playing to more people than ever, knowing that friends and family were watching, but I wallowed in it all the same.

“I don’t think Noah’s coming, though,” I added after a beat of silence and only after I’d managed to tear myself away from the way his eyes were seeing right into my soul. “The guys are taking him out. But we’ll talk to him tomorrow, right?”

“Tomorrow,” Oli agreed, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

•••

The show in Sheffield was nothing short of magical and when Oli came off stage, he was an electrified bundle of energy. He was all over me, pulling me into his arms, completely ignorant of the way his sweaty skin stuck to mine where my top didn’t cover me, swaying me side to side.

“Fuck, I just love playing here,” he mumbled into my hair before pulling away just so much that he could look at me without having to fully let go. “What do you say to going straight home? I really need a shower but I’m so tired of venue bathrooms.”

I ignored the way my heart fluttered at the idea of home being not just his but all of our place to retreat to. I had no idea if he’d meant it like that or not, but suddenly I wished for nothing more than a shared comfort place. With him, and with Noah. Instead of dwelling on it, I sniffed at the fabric of shirt, loudly, just to annoy him.

“Yeah, that’ll just about do, I don’t think the uber driver is gonna kick you out for that smell just yet.”

“You’re fucking rude,” he laughed, carefree and not the slightest bit impressed. Then he continued to envelop me in his arms, awkwardly rubbing his body against mine. “There. If I smell, you do too.”

I couldn’t hold back the giggle, pulling him away from where several people working at the venue pretended not to stare at us and his antics, and started making my way outside with his hand firmly in mine. “Guess we’ll both need a shower.”

•••

Neither of us mentioned the way the backseat of the cab seemed a little empty as we made our way to the hotel to pick up my suitcase and then Oli’s place. Even though Oli’s energy was filling the space tenfold and we kept talking, giggling, touching as innocently as possible while still being within the driver’s view, I was sure that he felt the absence of a third person in our midst. Tomorrow, I told myself. Tomorrow we’d talk to him. For now, I decided to focus solely on having Oli all to myself tonight.

The place was as homely as the night before, immediately drawing me in. I almost wanted to collapse on the couch, place myself just in the right way to stare out the windows once more, stay like that until the sunrise appeared, but all of that went straight out my brain as soon as Oli started undressing. He was still in the living room, lights on, with the curtains still drawn open, removing piece by piece and letting it fall on the floor. It didn’t really matter that he was fully on display - no other building in the vicinity was close or high enough to grant anyone the view that I was getting.

More and more tattooed flesh was being put on show and I drank all of it in, studying Oli’s body in a way I never had the chance to before, his broad chest, strong arms, muscular thighs, his half-erect cock. By the smirk on his face, he enjoyed the way I attempted to commit every single details about him to memory.

“Come on, love, you can’t be getting into the shower in all of that,” he grinned, motioning toward my outfit, but made no move to step closer. I didn’t mind. I could undress all on my own.

It wasn’t that I was actively trying to impress or give a show, my entire being was much too clumsy and lacking self-awareness for that, but the way I removed my top, my bra then let my skirt and tights follow before dropping my panties down my legs still seemed to have him hypnotised. It didn’t make me feel insecure. It made me feel like the most desirable person on the planet.

With his hand softly taking mine, Oli pulled me down the hallway and into his bathroom, making quick work of turning the shower on, checking until he was satisfied with the temperature and then pulled me under the large waterfall shower head. It was pure luxury. Both the way the hot water was raining down on me and how Oli wrapped himself around me once more, nothing between our naked bodies, just touches all over that had me sigh in utter relaxation.

I could feel him growing a little harder against me as my nipples perked up, but neither of us was in any hurry to do anything about it. Instead, Oli grabbed one of the bottles on the shelf next to him, stepping back to first lather himself and then me in shower gel. His hands were all over, starting at my shoulders, moving over my breasts with the utmost care, one arm, then the other, moving down my body, my back, my thighs, until he was basically kneeling in front of me. I took it all, the goosebumps following in the wake of his fingers, shivers running up and down my body under his delicate touch. When he stood back up to direct us back under the water, I almost cried out at the loss of his hands on me, before they were back, scrubbing me clean, reaching every single inch of my body. I did the same for him.

I couldn’t tell how long we stayed there as the mirror and the windows fogged up, I still could have remained there for longer, feeling safe and protected and warm, the world outside nothing but a far away thought that had no room between us. But my skin was getting wrinkly from the water and my brain was starting to get mushy from the heat, so we reluctantly detached from each other and stepped into the humid bathroom. Oli wrapped a towel around me, impossibly fluffy, then put another around his waist. We dried each other’s hair as much as possible before giving up, deciding we’d deal with the mess of it tomorrow.

Oli’s bed was unmade, none of us having had the time to strip and remake it this morning and it gave me a brief ache in my chest when I realised just how much Noah was missing, but Oli gently pushed me onto the bed, both of us losing our towels as we slid under the blanket, lights out, still staring at each other as much as our eyes allowed as they got used to the darkness.

“You’re amazing,” he said out of nowhere, his voice a little rough as we hadn’t spoken much since arriving, but it was his words which took me by surprise. “I’m sorry we drifted apart so much in the past. I think I pushed away just how much I need you.”

He moved a strand of hair away, tucking it gently behind my ear, and I had to take care not to let a trail of tears follow. Something in his voice was so honest, so vulnerable and true that I couldn’t help being emotional. It was more than I’d ever gotten from Oli, more than I’d ever thought I’d get, and even with everything that had been transpiring on this tour, I hadn’t seen it coming.

“I need you too, Oli. I don’t…” I swallowed, hard and audibly, my hand finding his, intertwining our fingers. “I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

It still felt like a risk, saying it out loud, not yet daring to say what I was really burning to utter, but hoping and praying that he knew, that he would get it, that my voice and my eyes and my hand in his would tell all. And when he kissed me, it felt like he did. When his hand wound up in my hair, it felt like he did. When he sighed against my lips, so softly, it felt like he did.

I wanted to stay in this moment forever. Anything that meant keeping his hands on me and his mouth on mine. It was so impossibly soft and sweet, it almost made me believe I was dreaming. But then Oli rolled himself on top of me, hot skin warming up my own, every single inch of him on me, his lap slotted against mine, my nipples hardening as they rubbed against his chest, and the kissing suddenly wasn’t even close to being enough. I wanted him, needed him, all of him.

The blanket was easily kicked off as the temperature rose, our naked bodies emitting more than enough heat as my thighs wrapped around Oli’s waist, pressing him harder against me. His mouth moved from my lips to my jawline, down my neck, over my breasts. All I could do was sigh in pleasure, letting his long hair tickle my skin on the way. I could feel he wanted to move further, until his head would rest between my legs, but I held onto his shoulders, then pulled ever so slightly at the back of his scalp to make him look up at me. Those gorgeous, deep, ever-changing eyes that lured me in, even when the dark room, illuminated by nothing but street lights below and the moon up above, barely let me see them.

“I want you, Oli,” I mumbled as soon as we were face to face again. “I just… want you.”

Oli, miraculously, understood. He kissed me again, so deeply that it made my head swim, before reaching down. I gladly let my legs fall open a little more, inviting his fingers in.

“At least let me prepare you a little, my love,” he whispered against my neck, one finger entering me with a sound that was impossible to ignore, a second immediately following. “So wet, so lovely and wet, just for me.”

I tried to get him closer, get more of him, pulling him in, everything that he would give me. I was losing control quickly, of the way my body moved, of the noises that he ripped from me.

“I can’t believe you’re letting me touch you like this.”

At the way his words sounded, voice low and raspy.

“Been dreaming about this so long, you don’t even know. Never thought you’d allow me to be with you like this. That you’d let me have all of you.”

He pumped his fingers a few times, experimentally adding a third finger which barely took any effort to slide in at all. Every single one of his words seemed to send another wave of lust over me, leaving me dripping and relaxed and more than ready to take him. When he pulled away, I whined pathetically, almost grabbing at his arm to keep him there.

“Come here, sweet thing.” He held his fingers out to me, tapping my lips to get me to open up. I licked them clean eagerly. “Taste yourself. Taste what you’re giving me. All for me.”

My brain wouldn’t have worked even if I’d actively tried to use it. I dumbly sucked on his fingers, a delirium waiting to happen, barely registering when he removed them from my mouth again to reach for the bedside drawer. He blindly grabbed a condom, ripping it open and putting him on, all the while keeping his eyes on my as much as possible. I loved how they looked. All hooded and pupils blown, full of arousal. I could only imagine he would be staring back at the same sight.

I immediately wrapped my legs around him again when he settled back on me. His forehead rested on mine, both of us breathing heavily, unable to keep still or quiet enough for another kiss when he pushed in.

“So perfect,” he moaned, completely in tune with mine when he buried himself in me. “So perfect, sweetheart.”

Then he started to move, slowly, carefully, as if he was afraid I could break or fall apart underneath him, and I wasn’t entirely sure that I wouldn’t. I felt like I was barely able to breathe. His cock in me, perfectly filling me up, his hands, whenever they weren’t holding his body up, everywhere on me. His eyes fully focused on mine.

The closeness hadn’t been there before. Not to this extent. And it almost made me want to break out in tears. It was simply so much, bordering on too much, while being just perfect, and all I could do was claw at his back, pull him that impossible inch closer, feel him all over, his breathing mixing with mine. He still took the time to look into my eyes, all throughout. One of my hands moved from his back to his cheek, unable to keep myself from touching his face, cradling it lovingly, a soft moment in between the heavy moans and loud noises.

Still, I didn’t see it coming.

Both of us were on the edge, steadily leaning over it and ready to fall. His thrusts were becoming quicker now, a little more shallow, and then his fingers were on my clit and I came so fast, it took me by surprise. I clenched around him, riding out my high with fingers digging into his back, letting myself fall into the feeling completely, knowing he’d be there to catch me and then he came undone too, low groans accompanying his release as he rutted into me again and-

“I love you.”

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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nix-writes-mcyt · 16 days

Note

Saw Skizz on your list of people you write for while going through your request info again so I just had to request something!!

I just know being held in his big beefy arms is like heaven on earth! So maybe some sweet cuddling in bed on a nice warm day?

Love your writing so so so much!! -XB anon ❤️

I love me some beefy arms, just ask my fiancé haha (no but really I will swoon). I've mentioned this in a previous post but this is actually very much influenced by my relationship with my fiancé who is on his last night shift of the week when this is posted. It's a hard time for us both but it's worth it when he gets home. All this to say, if you want to write one of the biggest tips I'd give is to draw from real emotions and experiences. It really helps to give a subtle bit of depth which gives your readers an easier time feeling that emotion themselves!

Working Late

Drabble Contains: Fluff -------------------

This evening has been hard, you knew it was coming but it has still been hard.

Skizz had told you he really wanted to finish his shop and would do so by any means necessary, the problem was that that meant you'd had to spend the evening alone, which was fine. You'd sorted a few bits out around the house, walked the dogs, made sure that everything was in order for the morning. It was all fine.. except for one problem.

The one problem came when it was time for bed, which was that you'd have to go to bed. Alone. You'd hoped you could stay awake until Skizz got home, but that wasn't the case.

Once midnight had hit you were falling asleep on the sofa, which the dogs seemed more annoyed at than you. They liked that spot.

So, begrudgingly, you'd made your way to the bathroom, washed your face, brushed your teeth, and gone to bed.

You'd had a miserable time falling asleep. It was too cold and too quiet without him there. You tried to read, but your eyes couldn't focus on the words. You tried to listen to music, but it just wasn't the vibe. So you'd given up and laid there until you'd eventually fallen asleep.

Until a few moments ago, when you woke up. The room is still as dark as can be, you're still exhausted. Groggily, you reach over to the side table and tap the button on the clock. 3.37am. It's been an hour, maybe a bit more. You're unsure what time your really managed to get to sleep.

It's still cold, you're still alone. Your heart sinks. He probably won't be back tonight. So you pull the duvet closer, attempting to fall back into your slumber.

You can hear your own breaths, the sound of your heart beating. It's just not the same without him here. It's not as easy, doesn't feel as safe.

Yet, slowly your body begins to relax, darkness taking back over. You barely register the sound of the door, the shuffling, or at least you're too far into sleep to be able to react.

A familiar weight moves the mattress, duvet going with it as he takes his usual spot. You make some sort of grumbling noise at being disturbed, but a sigh escapes you as he gets close.

One arm drapes itself over you, then pulls you in. One strong, familiar arm. His voice is sleepy too, muttering "don't you grumble at me it's time for cuddles."

You feel yourself smile, possibly only internally, although it's too dark to know. Not that you could see your face without a mirror anyway.

You shuffle to get more comfy pressed up against him, warming up quickly. Then you shuffle again to stuff some blanket between the two of you to stop the heat. "Just that hot am I?" He giggles, clearly about to drift off. Somehow you find it in you to respond, "don't need heating when I have you." He lets out an amused huff, but like you is too tired to say any more.

The silence is filled with the soft sound of his breathing, plus your cozy and warm now. That's not even to mention how safe you feel being in his arms again, those wonderful arms that are so strong holding you so carefully against him.

With what you're sure is a soft sigh you're able to comfortably drift into a peaceful slumber, dreaming only of Skizz, how much you love him, and the wonderful arms that leave you feeling so safe and secure (and flustered, but it's a calm, peaceful sleep. Sue me.)

#skizz x reader #skizzleman x reader #hermitcraft x reader #mcyt x reader #hermitcraft #hermitblr #mcytblr #mcyt #skizz #skizzleman #fluff #comfort #cute #cuddles #inspired by my irl relationship

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dylansslutt · 2 years

Text

secret / t.s

Warnings: peaky blinders...smut

Summary: being close friends throughout child led to some hot tension, but thomas gets sent away to war. what happens when he gets back?

requested from the lovely // @mrkdvidal1989 \\

Growing up best friends with ada and the shelbys brought a lot of adventure into your life. Small Heath wasn’t like London, so being around their family gave something new.

Thomas, John, and Arthur were the older brothers. You and John were close in age, allowing you both to become closer.

Arthur was very much an older brother to you. Always looking out for you, messing with you, or bugging you. You enjoyed it though considering your an only child.

Thomas on the other hand… things were a bit different. The first time you met he called you a foul name and you hit him. Now you two were friends but there was still a few moments.

“who’s this ada?” a brown hair boy spoke up from behind us, trailing along two other boys. your eyes flicker back to the girl in confusion, “oh hush, tommy. this is my friend y/n.”

he now stood closer a very noticeable height difference, but you just stare up at him. “ya’ can find better friends, ada.” he snickers making you glare. without a beat you kick the boy in the leg, shoving him backwards to land on his bum.

standing above him with a smirk, “maybe ya’ should mind ya’ business, ‘tommy’.” snickers fills your ears, ada pulling you into a hug.

“like a sister i never got.” you just laugh along, watching the other brothers laugh at the fact a girl beat him. instead of being mad though, tommy stood up and walked forward.

expecting a hit of some sort, you were confused at no force. instead he stuck his hand out, “thomas shelby, i apologize.”

a small smile slips across your lips, hands connecting you shake. “y/n y/l/n, apology accepted.”

you and tommy grew close for many years until you started getting closer to age. more distant and moody, even got a girlfriend so you two barely spoke besides maybe at school or the house.

You were walking with ada, heading back to her house. giggling at her joke, you notice a familiar figure not too far ahead.

“Hey Lucas!” You call out cheerfully. Lucas was a year older, nice kid. You two tend to chat every now and then, since he lives nearby.

“Oi, hi.” He waves sheepishly, stopping to allow you two to catch up.

Ada was the first to speak, “how are ya’?”

You three walk in sync down the road, ada’s home only a few houses down. “I’m alright, headed home.”

“The sky is getting dark, I bet it’ll rain.” Your mention brings both their heads toward the sky., just as we reach the Shelby home and you wave off Lucas.

“Bye Lucas!”

You both enter the home, soft chatter in the air. You walk pass Finn, giving him a soft kiss on the head.

“Who’s the boyfriend y/n?”

Tommy’s voice makes your head snap up. You glare at the boy, standing up from Finn. Ada stifles her giggle, already knowing how it’s going to play out.

Your mother also happened to be best friends with aunt Polly, but she passed away last year. Two days after your 14th birthday. It was horrible, you spent days alone in the bed.

Luckily Ada was a good friend and helped during that awful time period. She still helps considering you mainly stay at her home more than your own.

Since your mother’s passing... your father hasn’t been the same. Barely working, always drinking. He never got abusive but he did say awful things. but that was similar to Mr.Shelby, their father. He was just the same, until a few months ago when he left the home. Leaving everyone to mainly fend for themselves, beside Polly being in a sort of control.

“He’s not my boyfriend!”

John snickers with his mouth full half a biscuit in hand, your eyes flicker to him. “Oh, you be quiet!”

He stops laughing as he sees your expression, Tommy just stood in the doorway, smirk placed on his face at your reaction.

You decide to just leave it, not let it get to you. He always did this, anytime he saw you speak to another boy. It was irritating, especially when he had a girlfriend.

—

A few months has gone by, and the boys enlisted in the army. It was a sad day, for mainly Polly and Ada. Yet you felt it too, these boy were your family.

standing at the train station, staring teary eyed as Ada hugs John. Arthur walks towards you, enveloping you into a hug.The tears fell softly down your cheeks.

“be safe, please.” You mutter against his chest.

“I’ll come home y/n/n. Don’t y’a worry.” He let’s you go turning towards Ada, you looking towards John.

He swoops you up into a bear hug, spinning you slightly. squealing softly, a smile spreads on your face as your feet hit the ground.

After a quick look into his eyes you softly cry. “Oh John.” He pulls you close rubbing your back.

“I’ll write to ya’. I’ll write to ya’ as much as possible.” You mutter pulling back as John smiles and pokes you.

“Y’a better, or when I get home I’ll kill y’a.” He tries to make light of the situation but the sight of you in tears made him sad.

Johns eyes glance over to someone before back to yours, “imma say bye to pol.”

You nod, stepping back wiping your cheeks. As he walks away he was quickly replaced. “Tommy.”

His expression was unreadable, “ya’ gonna write me too?”

You smile softly, “is tommy asking me to write him letters?”

He breaks his stoic look, a smile appearing. “I mean…”

You step forward, your arms swooping around his waist. It was only a second before his arms wrap around you, his scent filling your nostrils.

“Be safe, Tommy.” A silent tear slips out, you lift your head up to look into his eyes. “Come back home to me.”

He wipes your tear from your face, staring back down at you. “I will, I promise.”

It was very rare Thomas ever promised anything, but with you he always kept them. Like the day you found a baby bird, Tommy promised he wouldn’t kill it. Instead built a little nest for it, making you happy.

You stood beside Ada, waving the boys off as they get on the train. The day leading into a different life for the three of you women.

a few months have passed, you picking up a job at a bread store. money was tight and with no children, work was all you had.

your father became ill, you moving back into the house with him. with the stress of him, along with making sure the remaining shelby’s were alright. you still managed to find time to write to the boys, praying for their safe return.

not knowing they wont return as themselves, only the surviving part.

time passed and so did your father. now an orphan, you sold the home and moved in within the residence alongside ada and pol. you three being each others comfort, helping with the children and house care.

You working at the bread store helped a lot, to help make extra cash on the side. That’s where you ended up meeting timothy, he was sweet don’t get me wrong.

He would walk you home after work, get you flowers, compliments… but it just didn’t feel right. Yet you were lonely in this time so you carried on with it.

“Goodnight tim!”

You kiss his cheek with a dear smile on your face. Anytime now the boys should be arriving back home. It’s been a long time, you aching for the return of them instead of the letters. You wrote to Thomas, but John just added his hello in his letters instead.

Unsettling disappointment left over you from that. Wishing he would’ve sent just a single letter. Turning around you enter the home, confusion taking place at the sound of laughter and clinks.

“Is there a birthday I’m unaware of?” Throwing your coat on the couch, rounding about into the kitchen. Just to have your heart drop at the sight of the three boys/men who were before you.

“Oi, are y’a’ serious?” Tears forming as you let out a small shaky laugh. Johns the first to come scooping you up, embracing the smell of smokes and his scent.

“Missed ya’ love.” He whispers in your ear, smooching your cheek. Giggling leaning back, Arthur’s arms wrapping you up in a deep hug.

“Ahhh, even more beautiful than before!” You pat his back, “oh hush!” Your eyes catching pols who was more than enjoyed to see the reunion of the family.

Your eyes landed on Thomas, breathe hitching in your throat. it’s been a few years since those deep blue eyes have been seen. without a blink you rush forward embracing him.

he was stiff at first, hugging you was different. neverless his arms wrap around you, holding you close for a good moment.

You pull back as his eyes mimic yours, so much to say but no words to come out. “Missed ya’ tom.”

Without a word you made way towards the bottle on the table, stealing a glass and pouring yourself out one.

“To the boys, or so I say men now!” Everyone laughed and cheered on with you.

The night was black, stars shining bright as ever. You sat outside smoking alone, a glass in hand. All the guys showing back up brought up a lot of emotions.

So silence was the best way to try and free your mind. Being out here alone has become a routine, that soon would be interrupted.

“Y’a’ like the quiet, I remembered that.” Thomas voice broke your train of thought, head whipping around to see him with his own smoke. shaking your head as soft laugh escaping you.

“sorry, i just...” you couldn’t find the right words, everything still scattering throughout your mind.

he sits down beside you, “trust me, love, i feel ya’ on that.” silence took over, only interrupted when tommy hands over a smoke. you gratefully accept before asking him the one question you’ve asked yourself these few years.

“why didn’t ya’ write me, tommy?” the crack in your voice was soft, but he still detected it, while clearing his throat shrugging.

“i couldn’t.”

he couldn’t? really?

“what happened thomas?” you grab his hand but he flinches back slightly, staring deeply into your eyes.

“a lot, y/n. a lot fuckin’ happened and i don’t wanna talk about it.” shock by the harshness, you stood up and walked inside. ignoring the rest of the group and headed straight to the small room in the back, since the boys were back.

flickering the smoke out, and gulping the rest of the liquor in your glass. shoving yourself under the covers to block out the emotions ready to spill from you. knowing sleep is the best option instead.

and when you got like this, everyone knew to leave you be.

the next day you were up and out of the house before the others. deciding to stop by the garrison for an early drink, you had work later and you knew tim was gonna try to see you at some point.

and for some strange reason that’s the last thing you wanted, except your head was spinning last night. thomas never escaped your thoughts, constant reminder of what you tried to keep away.

“hey, harry.” the man smiled at the sound of your voice. coming closer to the bar, sliding your coat off. “hi darlin’, not workin’ today?”

shaking your head you sit down, “no i do, just need a drink is all.” he stayed quiet and poured out a glass. he knew the boys were back and how close you were to the shelby’s.

hell you were practically a shelby.

sliding over the glass, you quickly empty the contents. “one more please.”

as you hand back over the glass, the doors swing open. not really shocked since the whole towns been buzzing since everyone has gotten back. except it made you curious when harry shifted slightly, making you glance back seeing thomas.

rolling your eyes instead slipping the glass back in your hand, taking a sip this time. his presence now beside you made the heat rise within you, the familiar scent of his smokes and smell filled your nostrils.

“we should talk.” not expecting that you down the rest of your drink, glancing at the clock with a sigh of internal relief.

grabbing your coat and throwing down a few coins, you turn towards thomas. “later thomas, i’ve got work.”

as you go to walk off his hand grasps your bicep, stopping you in your tracks. “well, i’ll walk ya’ to work then.”

you shake your head, stubborn as ever still. you motion him forward allowing him to open the door, stepping out on the street. “i heard about ya’ dad, im sorry about that.”

the fact he brought it up almost made you cry, but you just shrug not bothering to answer. continuing down the road not too far from the shop, thomas speaks again.

“things are about to start changin’ around here, y/n.” the words made your eyes turn to his. “what do ya’ mean about to change?”

he sighs pulling out a smoke, bringing it to his lips. “we’re back, so that means family business is goin’ to change.” biting your lip, you just nod. knowing thomas already has some plan cooked up in his mind.

“well that wasn’t much of a talk, but i’ll see ya’ later tom.” giving him a soft nod entering through the front door. thomas watches as your hair bounces effortlessly walking inside, or how the smile on your face lifted the room of the place.

polly filled him in on everything, and he wasn’t the same person. yet he knew for sure , y/n would be taken care of, personally by himself. hearing about her ‘boyfriend’ thomas was for sure gonna be keeping an eye on you, especially the type of back ground he has.

the day went by faster than expected, allowing you to be off before the sunsets. wrapping your coat around you, as well as grabbing the small bag you turn back to mrs.lancey.

“goodnigh’, see ya’ tomorrow!” you wave her bye as you leave the building, the air now cooler than earlier. usually tim walked you home, so you glance around for the familiar face.

“y/n!” eyes catching his you give a soft smile, he comes closer giving you a big smooch. the sudden kiss made you uncomfortable, quickly pulling away with a small smile.

“uh-hi.” you laugh awkwardly as he smiles down at you. “how was work?” his arm slips around you as you both head towards your home.

biting your lip, you shrug “same old stuff...” you didnt know why you felt so weird all of a sudden, even though you had no reason too. though the thoughts of tommy filled your imagination, it should be him walking you home. his arms around you.

shaking your head, you move away from timothy. “oi, i forgot my family is home, i haven’t told anyone about um... us?” the words escape your lips as he looks down at you confused.

“well, i don’t want you to be alone.” you pat his chest softly, “i appreciate it, really, but i’ll be fine.”

with a small smile you turn away from him, deep guilt filling your chest. you quickly fumble inside the bag around you for a cigarette, quickly grabbing one along with a match.

your shaky hands lit the smoke, inhaling it deeply. how could you still have feelings for him? after so long you thought they’d disappear, instead only resurfacing faster than normal.

the house came into view leaving you with an uneasy feeling. getting closer you open the door, the kitchen light up. ada was at freddie’s, already knowing it since she’s been dreaming of him for the last few years.

you threw your coat over the hook, heading towards the kitchen. thomas and pol sat at the table, glasses in hand. “ello’ love, how was work.”

you sit between them, stealing thomas’s empty glass pouring yourself out one. “fine.” her eyes rake over you, noticing the stress evident. you swallow the liquor allowing the burning feel rake down your throat. you inhale the smoke once more before tossing it out.

glancing between the two, you decide not to question it. “since the boys are home and the family business is back up, does that mean i need to go ahead and quit me job?”

the question more so directed towards thomas, but polly spoke up. “not if ya’ don’t want too, ya’ aren’t forced into this.”

that comment made you giggle, leaning to grab the bottle again. “please pol, imma’ shelby with or without the name.”

taking the full glass, sipping half of it down. “well it’s settled, you’ll quit tomorrow. there’s a family meetin’ tomorrow, presence is a order.” with that he was gone, making your eyes flicker over to pol.

“what is it?”

you hated how easily she read you, like a mother with a child. a sigh escapes your lips as you bring up your knees, “i gotta break up with tim.”

she smirks making you roll your eyes, “stop with that.”

you bring the glass up to your lips finishing it as pol lights up her own smoke, “ya’ a smart gal, don’t know why ya’ stressing.”

pushing yourself up, you look down at her. “my mind doesn’t shut off, pol.”

with that you head upstairs, you had a few stuff still in thomas room. which was the bed you slept in while they were gone, so you open the door without thinking.

“oh, im sorry.” thomas was shirtless and you quickly turn away. “i’m not naked, y/n. ya’ can look.” he announces making your cheeks heat up.

“shutup.” you mutter softly, looking around for your stuff instead of the toned body in front of you. eyes catching the hairbrush, book, matches, and pencils on the side table.

“there it is.” you walk forwards grabbing the stuff. “so ya’ slept in here, while we were away?” his voice distracts you, the pencils slipping from your grasp spreading across the floor.

“yea, your bed was comfy.” dropping to your knees gathering the pencils up. glancing up at thomas who was already staring down at you.

“ya’ got a boyfriend.” that wasn’t a question, so you push yourself up. looking in his eyes still you give him a confused glance. “yea’, why does it matter?”

“i though’ ya’ was smart, y/n.” he shakes his head making you more confused. “the hell ya’ talking about tom?”

dropping the pencils back on the desk, you turn back towards him. “timothy ravikolsik is his real name, a certain person who is in on the people who are against us!”

the anger in his voice made you jump back, bumping into the desk pencils dropping at your feet again. rolling your eyes at the scene you just glare up at him, “are we really goin’ to try to take this that far?”

his eyes match yours, tone shifting “why would i make this up? you’re the one sleeping with him.”

you try to fight back but it makes more sense, always trying to come over, always asking weird questions. overly nice. everything was weird.

tears fill your eyes but your harshly blink them away, “oh fuck ya’ tommy! always gotta blame me for some shit.” you brush past him, heading towards the back room not even bothered about your stuff.

tears brim your eyes and you collapse against the bed. you wanted to break up because you still had feelings, but now everything thing was worst. thomas and you aren’t the same and timothy was a lying bastard.

the next morning waking up it felt as everything changed, something shifted and the energy felt different... yet not bad. deciding today since the boys were back and less stress on you, things were gonna go in a different routine.

you stand in front of the small mirror, staring long and deep at your reflection. ignoring the thoughts, you pull out one of your favorite dresses. which has only been worn twice, you slip it on.

it was a soft floral pattern, the nicest dress you owned. turning back you slip on your shoes before glancing back in the mirror, a small smile evident. slipping out the door and down the stairs, noise could be heard.

turning into the kitchen, john and arthur stood place near the sink as thomas, pol, and ada sat at the table. eyes flicker in your direction, john with wide eyes, arthur who looks a little out of place, and thomas who was unreadable.

“mornin’, what is ya’ lots discussing?” easing in you snatch a small biscuit from the table. ada and you make eye contact which makes you wiggle your eyebrows towards her, her rolling her eyes in response.

“family meetin’ is at the shop, later after noon.” arthur spoke up towards you, softly smiling at him. “alrigh’, well i’ve got a busy day. see ya’ later.”

with that you snatch your coat and head out the door. you decide to stop by work first, to let them know you’ll be back at home again. praying you don’t run into tim, today you couldn’t face that topic.

after leaving the shop, you head over to the garrison before the family meeting. without even looking up at the bar as you walk in, “harry!” you call out but get shocked.

a pretty blonde stood behind the bar, “harry just stepped out back, can i get ya’ anything?” the irish accent was easily detected.

“a bottle of dark rum. and a glass for right now.” sitting down at the bar, you shuffle through your bag for your smokes. smiling once finding them, you place one between your teeth lighting it.

the bottle and glass was placed before you, “that’ll be a shilling.” narrowing your eyes up at her, you lean forward.

“what’s ya’ name?”

“grace.”

you open the bottle, pouring yourself out a glass. “well grace, since ya’ new i’ll let it slide. but i don’t pay for my drinks... ever.”

with that being said you lean back and swallow down the liquor, “y/n!”

your eyes land on harry, face lighting up. “i see ya’ got a newbie.” you call out still staring the girl in the face. “ah, yes y/n this is grace. grace anything she wants is on the house!”

her eyes widen slightly and just nods softly. “well i got family business to attend too, but grace?”

her head turns towards you, “if ya’ not a whore, this is the wrong place love.” and with that you slip the bottle and glass into your hands and turn to leave. something with her didn’t sit right with you...

after the meeting you decide to just go home, the information was exhausting and the shared bottle was not enough. you enter thomas room, dropping to your knees pulling out the few bottles you hid under the bed.

managing to successfully avoid timothy today was nice though, not able to deal with that stress. you head back to the kitchen pulling out a glass, sitting down at the kitchen.

lighting a smoke as you pour out a glass, a knock rang through. sighing figuring one of the boys forgot the key, you grab the drink and walk towards the door.

“ya’ better st- timothy?” that was the last thing you were expecting. he stood in front of you, a undecided look on his face.

“wh-what are ya’ doing here?” now stepping out and closing the door, you look around to make sure no one was walking to the house.

“what am i doin’? ya’ been gone all day i was worried.” his voice raised making you look at him with a glare.

“oh, i bet ya’ were!”

his eyes furrow, “tim ya’ need to leave.” you sigh pleading that he goes. instead he just rolls his eyes.

“what’s goin’ on?”

you finally look in his eyes, “i-i can’t do this anymore... i-it’s over.” wishing you could scream at him but you knew it was better not to bring up the new found information.

you go to grab the door handle but his hand grasps your arm, “ya’ can’t do that now, i’ve given ya’ everything!” the glass slips and breaks beneath your feet.

he was so harsh, never seeing him like this before. “let go, tim. ya’ hurtin’ me!” his grip grows stronger making you thrash, slapping him across the face. he stumbles back as you let out a deep breathe. stepping back but stepping on some glass.

“ya’ better leave, now!” you fall back onto the floor with a small whimper, the man now hovering over you as you rip the glass from your foot. not even trying to bother about him.

“when a women says leave, ya’ should leave.” thomas voice appeared from behind tim, making you jump. your eyes landing on his slightly scared but keeping a brave face.

tim looks back at him before turning back to you. a laugh erupts from him, “oh, i see i see. ya’ a whore, this the man ya’ been fuckin’? when ya’ told me ya’ was a virgin!”

you now were back to your feet, catering to your good leg. your hands hold onto the wall as his eyes flash with anger, before his hand makes contact with your cheek.

body flying sideways into the wall. in a blur thomas was on top of him, hat slashing his face. you hold your face, a little dizzy from the contact but you push yourself up. ignoring the pain you look up at the scene before you.

“tommy!” you scream out trying to move forward but john and arthur show up just in time. they pull him off, thomas yelling out orders as you stand by the front door scared shitless. his eyes land back on you and his demeanor shifts. he walks forward hands grabbing your face softly, “are ya’ okay?”

his eyes look down seeing you bloody, without a thought he scoops you up moving inside the house. he sets you on the couch, pushing yourself up with your elbows.

“tom, just get me a rag and alcohol. i can do it.” ignoring him he looks over your foot, before grabbing the nearby alcohol, pouring it on the small cuts. you hiss out as he places the rag against it, grabbing the alcohol and taking a big gulp as thomas finishes up.

“thank ya.” his eyes meet yours, his expressions always unreadable. he just nods, “do ya’ want me to help ya’ to your room?”

shaking your head you sit up, “no, i will be fine.” as you stand it felt like you stood up to fast, head spinning you almost fall but thomas catches you.

“not fine.” he mutters but you just push him away and sit back down, his eyes flickering over the very deep red mark thats covering your cheek. he felt more anger rise to him, wishing he told the boys to allow him to have the final blow.

he pushes that thought away as you sat before him, “i wasn’t lying y/n, it’s not as safe anymore.” your eyes flicker up towards him.

“it’s never been.” your cheek dully ached and you were exhausted. not expecting to deal with such chaos, you lean back more into the cushion.

“you’re still a virgin... sorry for-” you wave him off not even worried about halving this type of talk. of course he knew because you’d question him about certain things. i mean he was your first kiss.

“tommy, im not having this conversation tonight. im goin’ to bed.” you get up slower this time, happy to not be dizzy. limping forward you glance back at the man.

“thank ya’, though.” with that you walk off not waiting for his response, everything has changed. your heart felt heavy along with your eyes and all you wanted to do was sleep.

the next day you woke up late, everyone already gone beside polly and finn. you were dressed fine, just trying to be careful with your foot. as you reach downstairs pol comes out of the blue.

“oh dear, your cheek.” her eyes soften and she places a hand on your cheek. you smile softly shrugging her off.

“im fine. not like i haven’t taken a hit before.” moving over you kiss finn on top of the head. “mornin’ love.”

“mornin’ y/n/n.”

you look back at pol, “did he kill em’?” the question was subtle and she just nods. you just nod back before heading to the door, swooping your bag off the hook.

“ill be back later.” as polly goes to stop you, you slam the door taking off with a slight limp. it’s boring to have quit my job, but you knew you would be needed at the shop. instead you go back to the garrison, already feeling the need to drink.

the door swings open eyes flickering over a few men, ignoring them you focus in on grace and thomas conversating. “a glass of whiskey please.” interrupting the two, thomas eye’s flicker towards you.

“ya’ supposed to be home.” you scoff at that and wait for the glass. she places it in front of you glancing over at tom before walking away.

“care to explain the extent of how dangerous this is really gonna get?” thomas was lying about something, and you wanted the truth.

grabbing your arm, he leads you into the private room. “fuck y/n.” your eyebrows furrow, “what? im part of this, i’ve got the right to know.”

he stills, “a shipment i had coming got switched... we got a truckload of guns.” your eyes widen not expecting that. “shit thomas.”

“they’re safe. arthur has been keepin’ a eye out on them.” you swallow the entire drink in one sip, allowing the information to process.

“who all knows.” you stare down at him hard, he swallows thickly.

“just the ones who need to know, look i’ve gotten this taken care of. i need ya’ help with the bets, dont worry about this.” he tries to convey to you as you set the empty glass on the table.

“i’ll take care of the fuckin’ bets, tom. just don’t give in too easily.” you bring up the girl on the other side, but he stands confused.

“what do you mean?” you roll your eyes at him, standing up. “love, ya’ idiot.” you walk out deciding to help out the shop instead of thinking how grace looked at him.

everything was getting to you.

it was now late and it was just you in the shop, thomas was in his office. honestly forgetting he showed back up you finish the last paper of arthurs mistakes. he cant do math for the life of him.

the sound of thomas office door shutting made you jump, “jesus.” you let out a small shaky laugh at the sight of him. “nearly gave me a heart attack!”

for a small second you saw the old smile come back, but his face was blank again. “what ya’ still doin’ here so late?”

setting the paper aside, you get up grabbing your stuff together. “arthur’s math is worst than i thought, spent a few hours to fix some stuff.” shrugging your coat on you grab your bag.

“yea, he was never the best at it.” his remark made you laugh as you go to walk forward, foot catching on the leg of the chair. stumbling forward straight into thomas, who luckily was stable to keep you both upright.

“sorry.” you push against his chest, looking up into the deep blue eyes. his gaze made your cheeks heat up, “always savin’ ya.”

the comment alone made you feel something, so you push away from him. clearing your throat as you fiddle with the button on your sleeve. “i’ve saved ya’ too, mister. don’t forget.”

he continues his gaze, “how could i, if you always reminding me?” his eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips, that movement was something to push the words out.

“tommy?” your eyes now drift between his lips and eyes. he hums softly as you to grew closer in space. “kiss me.”

without a hesitation, his lips land on yours. they were soft but the kiss was more, his hands around your cheeks, before moving to your waist pulling you closer to him. your hands were on his shoulders before sliding around his neck.

he backs you onto the desk, legs spread so he could stand between. “tommy.” you moan out as his kisses down your neck. his hands gripping your waist even tighter, “i fuckin’ missed ya.”

the confession mumbled against your skin, made your heart jump. afraid he could hear it you pull him up to your lips, a soft kiss planted on his lips before you pull away.

“i want you, tommy.” you gulp as you stare into his eyes, they were darker than before. “now?”

“now.”

your arms went back around his neck as he swoops everything off the desk, laughter fills the air. “tom, the mess!”

“fuck it.” his lips trail down, his arms start to remove your shirt. the object landing on the floor, as he kisses your breast. you gasp at the feeling of his tongue swirling your nipple, it made your stomach warm.

your hands now in his hair as he kisses your hem, instead of pulling the skirt down. he drops to his knees, pushing the skirt up and pulling your panties down.

getting nervous you lift up on your elbows, “tom- oh god.” he licks your center, the feeling has your head falling back. still sitting up allows him to get a good look at your face as he continues.

a finger slips in after a few minutes, your legs start to quiver as they were places over his shoulders now. his pace was fast yet steady, the sound of your moans and the wetness fill the rooms. thomas slips in another making your hands shoot in his hair, “fu-fuck.”

you try pushing him away, but his hand grabs your wrist. holding them tight as his other hand continues the motions. you come undone the wetness running down thomas chin.

“holy...” you let out a heavy breathe, as thomas stands up tucking your panties in his pocket. “w-what are ya’ doin’?”

his hands pull your skirt down, before pulling you up. his lips land on yours again deep and messy. “ya’ thought id fuck ya’ here? for your first time.”

the question made you shrug, feeling at complete bliss right now. “no i want your face buried in the sheets.” that statement had you standing on your wobbly legs, his arm around your waist slips down to your ass. gripping it firmly before placing another kiss to your lips.

“wait, wait.” you giggle leaning back but getting a little more serious, breathe evening out. “i dont want this to-uh fuck up anything between us.”

waiting for a response, maybe him getting scared. you reach down to grab your shirt, sliding your arms through. instead of allowing you to fully button the shirt, he pulls you close heading towards the door.

“nothin’ to fuck up, love. its gettin’ late.” he opens the door for you, locking it back.he car was right outside and he opened the side door open for you to get in.

sliding to the other side he hops in and starts the car, the night was much colder and your hands were freezing. his hands grab yours before blowing on them, rubbing them to warm up.

you sink more comfortably beside him, him placing a soft kiss on your head as he takes you two home.

“oh god, remember when it was my 17th birthday?” you randomly bring up out the blue, a soft chuckle immediately escapes him.

“ya’ fell straight into the pond for that picture.” you laugh beside him before gasping, “i gave ya’ that picture! ya probably lost it by now.” sighing in defeat but he interjects.

“no, i still have it...” you look up at him in shock, “after all this time?”

“you’re always on my mind, y/n.” the confessions that keep coming out are just making this like a fairy tale. “i w-waited for ya’ to write me, why didn’t ya?“

he sighs jaw clenching slightly making you lean out of his embrace, “the war um, i did things y/n. thing’s i dont exactly wanna talk about and i couldn’t bear promisin’ ya’ i’ll be home, if i wouldn’t.”

you sit quiet at that, allowing the information to process. “i guess i’ll forgive ya’.” he parks in front of the house before looking over at me an unreadable expression.

opening the door, he steps out allowing you to slide out. “y/n.“ his voice halts your movements, the ache in your foot was noticeable now. you give him a confused glance.

“stay with me tonight?” he walks forward and you nod,

“of course.” it came out as a whisper as he looks down at you, feeling nervous again. his hand swoops up cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip.

he leans down slowly, leaving a chaste kiss on your lips. “i told ya’, you’ll always be my girl.”

“my girl.” pinkies slid into each other as you promised each other, you were 15 and he was 17. the silly promise you made that you’ll be eachothers. now it still held to be true.

now i didn’t write the full smut before bc i couldn’t tell if i should’veeeee so lmk

#thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fluff #Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby smut #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders imagines

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slugtranslation-hypmic · 4 months

Note

Hey slug! Obviously it's a bit older now, but I was wondering if you might be able to translate Sougyaran BAM, from Kuko? I feel like I don't quite understand the TLs I have seen, so I was wondering if there were certain references or concepts I'm missing here lol

I saw the email notification of this request at the perfect moment. Too anxious to do work or anything else productive. Too caffeinated to sleep. Fuck it. Time to look at Kuukou for an hour.

Under a cut for length

Like a lot of Kuukou's... well, everything... this song is an eclectic mix of elements that can all more or less be distilled into these couple of bullet points:

Trying to fight the listener

Dropping powerful life advice or Buddhist teachings

Claiming his music is both a game changer and the kind of stuff that gets your blood pumping

Scatting, rhyming without meaning, or otherwise making wordplay

Outside of the parts that are straight-up nonsensical, the majority of the rap is very casual to the point of being rude. However, it's also interspersed with formal religious language. Again, both of these are how Kuukou talks, but I get why this would make it difficult for someone to translate.

I talk about this a lot whenever I translate anything, but an important (and maybe the most important!) part of any translation is determining the methodology, focus, and goals before you begin. I figure that if someone's asking me to look at song lyrics for songs that have been out for years, they probably care a lot more about the minutiae of what the character's saying than if I'm writing a rap as part of a longer work where readers aren't going to give it much attention. In that second case, it's probably more important to convey the appearance of a rap--rhyme, rhythm, what have you--and make sure I'm hitting the overall meaning rather than translate word-for-word. You know? The issue is, translating word-for-word would produce mostly nonsense on this one, since my interpretation of its meaning is largely coming from reading between the lines. There's also no real meaning outside of the four bullet points above. It's all vibes. So, this is a vibe-focused translation. When Kuukou says something with no meaning (that I can tell) outside of wordplay, I've exchanged it with a fresh wordplay. At the same time, since I assume the audience wants to know the minutiae, I put footnotes at the very end for the most curious souls. Finally, outside of wordplay moments, there is no attention paid to rhyming, rhythm, or line length.

Also I spent like forty minutes on it so it isn't a polished work of art or anything of the sort. Lyrics:

You wanna piece of this? That’s cool, tough guy. Bring it on. ‘Cause I’mma mess you up. Hmm? You’ve had enough? Yeah, bitch, I bet you’re fuckin’ SATIETIED. Who the hell do you think you are? Aw, who I am kidding? It doesn’t matter who you are. I’ve never met an ass I couldn’t kick! And while I’m here thrashing your sorry butt, listen up. I’m Kuukou from Bad Ass Temple, representing Nagoya, yo. And I’m gonna be world champion. Whazzat? Who do I think I am, some kinda fancy-pants hotshot? Nah, dawg. I’m a monk, haha! Get in the zone, do it or go home, this ain’t the scene you’ve known. [1] I’m a rebellious rhymer staging a revolution. C’mon, join me! Let me hear your voices!

“Enough determination can move mountains,” as they say. Yeah, a-a-a-and I’ve got determination for days.

San gha gharan bam! [2] S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue [3] Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader [4] Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Say what? Rules, rules, rules—who the fuck cares about rules? I’m the ruler now. A ruler and a schooler. [5] Yo, I’ve got that brand new music— When I ring this giant bell, people hear that shit far and wide. Beat it! And lyrics? You already know I spit so much fire they call me a dragon. I’m all about the impulses, the anarchy, let’s fuckin’ go! I’m a breath of fresh air up in this shit. Eight pulls, nine pulls, ten pulls—someone say temples? [6] If you don’t know already, then you oughta listen up. You don’t need any of these options. Go make your own. Paint that shit vibrantly. Go try something new! And if it goes so well you can indulge in some goddamn rejoicin’? Then hell yeah, now we’re talking.

Yo, man. The world’s all in how you see it, as they say, and don’t you ever forget it. A-a-a-and I may be a monk, but I’m not preachin’ just to scold you! [7]

San gha gharan bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue Check, ch-ch-ch-check it, che-wa-watch out Gha bam! S-S-S-Scatting n’ rapping, rapping, BAT’s sexy leader Kick, kickin’ kickin’ killer San gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam gha gha gharan bam Gha gha gha gha gharan bam

Yeah, life’s got ups and downs. You asking me, “Whatchu lookin’ at?” [8] Your ASS, lol got ‘em. Wassup, wassup, I’m a rhymer. I’m makin’ some good shit up in here. Hm? Ey, dance, dance over days when our hearts are aligned [9] Shoo bidoo doo bidoo Roo bidoo doo bidoo Tickili tickili tackili-tatt-too

Yeah! Haha! My rapping’s freakin’ EXHILARATORY. Hello! Aight, c’mon on, lemme give you some of this and wake you right up. Yo, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon, ho!

Gharan bam gharan bam Gh-gh-gh-gh hey! Bring it on, tough guy! R-r-rapping, rapping, r-r-rapping with my razzle-dazzle tongue R-r-rapping, yeah, gh-gh-gh, hey!

Yeah, clear the scene, ‘cause I’mma reinvent the scene. [10] Yo, get outta my way. I’m Evil Monk, the dragon of Bad Ass Temple, you know. Rrrrrrah! [1] This last is literally "clear weather (空)" or "energetic vibes (空)." At face value, it appears to be nonsense for rhyming. However, at the very end of the song, Kuukou talks about "the vibes/the scene (空気)" changing and him changing it (which can also be read as the weather changing/clearing up), which makes me wonder if those two are related. Just in case, I wrote them with a possible connection in English too.

[2] 僧伽藍 (sangharan) is a short form of 僧伽藍摩 (sangharama), a Buddhist temple or monastery. Bam is, of course, the sound of Kuukou throwing hands.

[3] 饒舌 (jouzetsu) is a fairly formal word in Japanese to refer to excessive talking. However, I was surprised to learn in the process of TLing this that it's also Chinese for rapping which appears to be how Kuukou's using it here. Also, if you're curious how English "jazzy" became "razzle-dazzle," I realized near the end of the song that I needed to start this word with the same sound as "rapping" (because he scats the j sound on jazzy and jouzetsu) whereupon I set out to find a good synonym. The issue is, I wasn't sure exactly how the lyric writers were using the term, so I put "jazzy" in an English-to-Japanese dictionary to get "loud, invigorating, eye-catching." Yeah, that's Kuukou all right. "Razzle-dazzle" is similar and starts with an r, so there we go.

[4] The lyrics say "xy な leader" (the な is just indicating that "xy" is being used as an adjective, btw) which I assumed means sexy... ekkusu ii said quickly sounds like sekushii. To be sure I wasn't barking up the wrong tree entirely, I ran a quick Twitter search on that line and found a very large number of Japanese Tweeters thinking the exact same thing I was. (It looks like Kuukou's VA once flashed his collarbone on this line in a concert, delighting scores of collarbone lovers everywhere.) That being said, searching anything on Twitter and finding horny Tweets isn't exactly a novel concept. Well, if I'm wrong about this, then at least I'm in the good company of all the thirsty Kuukou fans. Hahaha. If this seems OoC to you, I feel like it's here mainly for fanservice, not necessarily because Kuukou's trying to get some with the person he's beating up and/or preaching at. Although, idk. If you ship Kuukou with anyone, you could very well see some parallels...

[5] Literally "I'll beat up [everything] including the roulette board." Wordplay on rules (ruuru), ruler (ruuraa), and roulette (ruuretto)

[6] Literally "Terapii (therapy), terapii, terapii, tera (temple)-- Oh, the age of temples?" Wordplay/stupid joke

[7] I don't like how I worded this line, but I don't care enough to spend much more time fussing over it. Kuukou's making a joke that, as a monk, he delivers religious sermons 説法. However, in colloquial terms, a 説法 is a telling-off when someone does something undesirable. Kuukou, as a frequent doer of undesirable things, gets these from his dad constantly. Therefore, he's being like, "This isn't the LAME STUPID kind of 説法... this is the kind that ROCKS! *sick guitar riff*"

[8] These two lines seem like complete non sequiturs because they're paired together in Japanese for rhyming. (nami ga dekiru/nani ga mieru)

[9] I admit that I'm struggling to understand this line because the grammar is very irregular. Japanese Twitter is not being especially helpful here, as most Tweets featuring it are some version of "God, this damn song is stuck in my head."

[10] Literally "[Someone] changes the atmosphere/scene. The atmosphere/scene changes." See note 1

#hypmic translations #hypmic asks

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onyourhyuck · 2 years

Text

One Thousand Desires. | L.HC (M)

prologue- “Sell your soul to me darling.” + “I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.”

summary: there is a saying that you shouldn’t be walking the streets late at night on Halloween because a demon can latch itself on to you. But surely that’s just a myth, y/n believes. She is fearless and never gets scared. Until she meets a demonic entity in her house.

tw- demon fantasy romance. demon!haechan. smut. romance. fluff. enemies to lovers type of thing. dark content and language. blood mention. death mention. horror elements. graphic detail. erm yh read at your own warning. Unprotected. Boob play. Biblical themes.

notes- 😫 Kinktober fanfic!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You stand still in front of your locked door, a fall of your sweat hits the ground and as did your legs giving up, you’re on the floor of your apartment. Pupils shrieking in multiple sizes from small to large, reflecting upon the terrifying red glowing ominous eyes right at you,

As if it was waiting for your move to make theirs. Starting to feel self conscious of everything your body did, the heart beating fast made your brain paranoid, your lungs suffocating with lack of oxygen as your anxiety took over with the massive amount of adrenaline in your veins.

The way this situation made no sense. You came back home alone, yet there stands a black floating figure with a large cloak covering its face. Long limbs latching forward crawling to just take a nip at you. The only thing you could see on the creature was their large dangerous eyes, watching you intensely.

Y/n’s nose becomes short ragged as your lips quaver open silently without a tone escaping, your nostrils flaring in adenoidal; speaking through your sounds out of the nostrils.

“What the hell are you…” You whisper, though it came out as almost silent air, the creature heard you crystal clear like a transparent gas in the air.

He cackles amused, stepping forward leisurely as he looks around the hallway where family portraits and photos, sometimes painting you’d hung up too, start to fall and shake down as if it was vibrating through him. The glass shatters causing you to flinch on the ground, crawling backwards immediately when he stops seeing you look so panicked.

“I am the genie.” He dramatically slurs. The massive cloak floating body of its crouched down to the perfect eye level, but he was still looking at you from above where you had to force yourself to look up at him. Like a sinner.

He sighs at your silence. “No scream? No words? Cat got your tongue?”

He questions, wondering if perhaps you were far too shocked to the point loss of words. Little did he know you were so terrified that perhaps you wished this was a dream that ended this instant. Never in your life have you experienced fear until now. This foreign feeling was both addicting with adrenaline as you felt like you were floating in between clouds, but at the same time you knew once this dangerous thrilling hormone in your body dies down.

You’re going to feel like the shittiest human on earth. You will live in denial, or, perhaps you’ll live in fear constantly as well paranoia.

You shake your head breathing heavily with pants. “This can’t be real. This is a dream. What the fuck is a genie.” You exclaim at once, explosively.

“I thought you’d never ask.” The deep mannerism voice said, would he take off the cloak to surpass the intense curiosity that gains your attention on the go.

Everyone would be just like you, expecting a deadly monster of some sort, like an abomination that was out of movies. A mutant with weird deforming facial structure, maybe something out of resident evil too. Green skin, or black skin representing the darkness. A high abnormal height like of creepypasta characters. No hair. Striking giant eyeballs ready to control you. And finally, a large carved deadly smile with cunning fangs to gnaw you to shreds, eat you alive, kill you, end your life within a minute or a second. But no. You were only answered with million other questions endlessly piling up when you saw the complete opposite of what you’d imagine the creature before you looks like, which ultimately makes you believe that you might be in fact dreaming but the more you pinch yourself it proven you to be wrong. This was in fact, all reality.

In front of you stands the most beautiful man you have ever laid your eyes on. Honey-like bronze skin melting like syrup, smooth as wood when sandpapered, his heart shaped jawline and mouth were this red apple colour, glossing brightly with dewiness as if he were a painting canvas. The way he had thick black hair , stylised in a mullet with mini curls peeking out; the creature looking so humanised, looks at you with a daunting expression and a smug-smirk, he saw the way your eyes light up in surprise and shock, soon sparkling stars enlighten. He knew himself he was out of this world.

But seeing the reactions of someone else never fails to boost his egotistical heart to beat alive once again.

“I am genie. The demon who will grant you thousands desires.”

The man bows his head as he stands up to you. He lifts himself back up awaiting your response. In which you blurt out,

“I thought genie was…meant to be in a lamp.” You carefully troath, the man let’s out a disappointing head shake and a compliant. Of course he was expecting a mortal to compare him to a fictional character that stole his title!

It hurt his pride and more or else, he would have to say he’s more handsome than a blue floating man from Egypt or whatever.

“How dare you compare me to that stupid fraud.” He coils, offering you an offended expression where he knits eyebrows together,

Glaring at you. Y/n puts her hands up in apologetically manner.

“What do you want from me.” You told and he scoffs turning away from you. The man walks around the house as freely as he wishes, making it his comfort in it. You felt outcasted in your own home, despite it being your property it was as if the foreign demonic entity was marking this place as his own.

The way your words lap to his direction makes him chuckle mentally, humans are always so scared and fragile. Anything to do with death becomes so unknown to them, scarring them from their own life. The genie could grant you immortality if you wish. He can grant anyone anything. All the man is, he is a preacher for the selfish. He hunts whoever feeds on greed and therefore in return he takes their soul. Call him a villain in this story, you wouldn’t be wrong but you wouldn’t be right either. If this was a movie set up, the man would be an morally grey character. He does no heroic actions nor does do any evil. Unless there is something in for him.

In the end his story is bitter and god has punished him. He once was just like you, like any other mortal residing on this forsaken realm. He went by the name Lee Donghyuck, a nickname substituting to Haechan for close friends. He was a rich son born to a wealthy man durning the 1600s. Though born with a silver spoon in his mouth only intensified his selfish greed that cost people lives upon lives. He was a murderer. He was the result of the seven deadly sins, greed. He broke religious commandments without a thought twice. Hence in the end when his life came to a sore bitter stop, god has made him a demon. There was no way the man up there was letting him off that easy with a first class ticket to hell. Where all the problems he has caused on earth has deputised chaos, the price became himself.

Now he has to hunt people. Lure them with an exquisiteness charm. Conning humans to sell their souls to him. If he fails to get them a day, God made sure to make it clear that he shall perish into ashes.

Donghyuck turns on the heels of his black leather boats, swiftly shifting his back away where he faces you, sending a carving charming grin at your helpless soft innocent looking face.

“Sell your soul to me darling.” He advised, not like you had a choice. donghyuck is a man of his words and when he wants something; he will get it, no matter what.

Though the maddening words sent the outmost terrifying terror in your body, your heart was surprisingly the most calm organ in your system. The lungs felt like a large concrete wall was pushing in and in, hiding out the leftover oxygen, in returning making your chest tighten and you, unable to breathe in air through your lungs because of how anxious you are.

Running adrenaline was not enough to keep you numb. You need something more to make you calm. The handsome entity saw the way your twisted expression flashes in a second, the moment he approaches you again by walking forward to come closer.

“Why. Why me.” You blabber out. Head shaking in frustrated dwelling. Why did it have to be you? Why did he pick you?

There was a reason of why he chose you out of anyone else. Donghyuck found you to be the most qualified and entertaining mortal , to the point he wants you to sell your soul willingly. Sure, he’s collected thousands upon thousands of souls from human to human differing from one another; but they don’t quite hit the same as you. He observed you for a few days, learned your weaknesses and strengths. Hell he even caught you doing your private showering to your late night fling sex. You’re a strong individual. One to never show fear. One to fight for what she believes and the one for taking control. He’d like to think you’re scared to be vulnerable as you cannot stand a situation going out of your hands. For example like this situation currently. You’re left hyperventilating because this scares you to be exposed to something foreign.

But not to worry. Donghyuck can give you anything and everything, you just have to make up your mind and say something. The man kneels down on his knees, his back arching forward to lean close to your beautiful scarce face. Donghyuck gently strokes your face with his hands, the tension from your soft smooth and clear face sent him into havens he’s never been to before. Such a beautiful damsel you are but at the same time not very damsel either. The way his hand effects you, rose him with arousal of excitement.

Breathe hitches loudly, the corner of your eyes staring down at the pretty sun kissed hands holding your cheek sliding down to the very edge of your jawline, Lifting you to look up at him directly.

“You fascinate me Y/n. You’re so different from the mortals that all act the same, wish for the same things, hell, it’s as if I’ve been meeting the same person for decades.”

He whispers now, transmitting all emotions in his voice that strike you to be so humane. Donghyuck looks like you, a person, but the image of him at the beginning standing in your hallway so creepily sends shivers down your spine. He’s dangerous. But little by little you’re starting to fall just a bit.

“I can give you anything and everything you want, you just have to say the words.” He tells Y/n who stared at him with wide shrieking pupils. He put a spell on you, metaphorically, you felt your head spinning.

He wonders, what do you desire? You don’t show any impulse for money. You don’t seek revenge in your large beautiful heart and you definitely do not look for immortality. So what could you possibly desire subconsciously and openly in your body, heart, mind and soul? It leaves him on a toll of overthinking thoughts, he cannot figure you out. This is what he meant by different.

You’re just one of the few mortals (though he’d have to say one of its kind) that does not want anything. You’re selfless. Something he never was in his past lives, current life and even as a demonic being. He admires you for your holy trait.

God will definitely have a first class to heaven for you. You aren’t falling so deep in his charming words that are as devilish as they sound in the Bible. He was the snake and his words were a sweet longing red apple waiting to be bitten. You were the humanity on line that did not take a bite. You were cautious and paranoid.

Y/n thickly gulps, finally getting caught in a conflict of the emphasis of ‘everything and anything’. The way your body reacts without filter, you knew that the demonic being in front of you holding you so dear, was now preparing for your answer. You close your eyes tightening your thighs together as you lean with your eyes closed.

“I…”

He heard you pause abruptly. The beautiful man in front of you was fooling you so deeply into an endless pool of sinful thoughts. God, you prayed in your head to forgive you for what you’re thinking and for what you’re considering to do.

Selling your soul? You happen to ask yourself if it is worth the effort and price to sell yourself to a man so enthral, for what you’re desiring is a job no one could do.

You’re a lustful young woman who hit her twenty’s not too long ago. You’re not that experienced. In fact you only recently lost your virginity to some bum of a man at a party,

You blame the alcohol for its doing because if you knew who you slept with you’d reconsider the man immediately.

But yes your first time wasn’t the most proudest and it definitely was a shit experience. You’ve never been left satisfied enough and you didn’t have your first orgasm either. Now that there stands before you a demon with such sex appeal, you can’t help but let your mind run laps and the idea could only get you wetter and wetter.

“There is no need to be shy. I will give you everything you wish for.” The demon reassures and pulls his hand away. You inhale deeply.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Y/n finally let’s out the words she so wanted to speak for so long, with a long ragged breathing, the demon faces her with a chilling dark expression that screams to you ‘with pleasure.’ He was just as glad to hear such an intimate activity. It could only put the innocence beauty of yours to be a fraudulent disguise. It doesn’t seem like you are so…pearl and gem like golden as he thought.

You’re just as sickening and twisted as he is. “I knew i did a good job picking you…” he trails softly lifting you up by his body bridal style. He heard mini surprise noises leaving your lips. The man speedily teleports in your bedroom with you thrown on the bed. He floats lightly to the bed with him over you, as he did not waste a minute,

All you heard him whisper was a few Latin words and a click to the fingers. You become nude and exposed so easily. A shivering cold air hit the skin, goosebumps hovering on you. Donghyuck licks the bottom lip eyeing you up and down, like you were for his eyes only to see. His soul. His human.

No one else’s.

“Would you rather prefer my demonic form or my human form?” He casually asked as he took off the dark grim cloak, exposing the white fancy-looking shirt that came off instantly to reveal the chiselled body of his, glowing brown skin eking to be marked by you. You weren’t focused on yourself to realise that unknowingly you grind on his cloth thighs, repeatedly humping it dry. You moan.

Donghyuck holds down the hips flat on the bed, pushing your body with it. He smirks seeing how frustrated you are, the more reactive you get the more he felt the sexual tension built. Lord have mercy on your soul, you’re not so bright afterall.

“Human. Keep the human form, please.” You tell desperately, closing your eyes shut and reopening them to see Donghyuck licking the inner thighs, soft bites to the canine teeth made, he found the places on your body that you never knew about would make you so sensitive and weak to the knees. The inner thighs mark where he bit down, spilling small scabs of blood in his mouth, traces his tongue up your legs to the round curve hips. Above your abdomen he rests, kissing it.

Lips were so deadly as your body jolts at it. The new feeling of warm mouth placing wet kisses, up from the stomach rural area until he reaches the exposed chest. In goes your right tit first, circled by the hungry tongue and a soft punch by the canine teeth leaving you to shout with pleasurable vocals; a few wet kisses once again when he pulls off the chest, he comes forward to your neck that made you become so ragged with oxygen. The same suffocating sensation from earlier except, this time, you were enjoying the way he made you run out of breath by simply teasing and putting on a minor foreplay.

You never felt such compatibility with anyone before except him and he wasn’t a human. You ache for him more and more he kept you waiting but despite the way he needs you to sell your soul as desperately too, he wasn’t in such hurry as you were.

“God, don’t keep me waiting please.” Y/n pleads like there was no tomorrow. Your voice echoes in the man’s ears like music, he darkly laughs sadistically. “Darling there is no god involved here. Only the devil.” —

“But don’t worry my soul. I’ll make this the most unforgettable everlasting pleasure to quench that lustful body of yours.” He continues to trace as the did his fingers now connect to your swollen clit gushing for a release for a lifetime, hands were as warm as the sun itself; scorching your skin with such impact you will never forget in your memory. Rubbing freely with a flick to his wrists left your wet velvety walls reopen and spill with an instant orgasm. He sat in awe watching it from the get go, becoming more and more invested in making you do it again from the beginning; and he did . Each thrust of his fingers, whether he would penetrate with his fingers to your another orgasm, or if he was simply abusing your clit again to get out that wet action in front of him, it didn’t leave you stopping with disappointment. It left you stunned with you seeing stars.

You never knew you could come so many times. He made you come for the tenth time. By the time the two finished on the tenth orgasm incoming her sensitive body, the man was ready to witness the dazedly pupils rolling on the room unable to focus on him, and as did her thighs pressing together. He rubs the entire pussy in his hands as he lets go, his mouth welcomes the fingers coating with the woman’s bodily liquid. He hums satisfied, making a large ‘pop’ by pulling his fingers from his mouth once he licked them clean, not wasting any of your come.

“You taste sweet.” He boosts causing you to go feverishly red as you cover your face, biting the bottom lip in a hurry.

“Fuck. I never came that hard in my life before.” You pant. Donghyuck begins to brag to y/n, as if he took a remarkable achievement out of this. Out of you. “Of course you didn’t. Those mortals can’t satisfy your needs can they, my darling y/n?” He chides as you felt your skin prickle at the tone.

It bothers you how he’s right. No one could compare to the devil himself. You’re afraid this one lasting moment will leave you blue balled for the rest of your life until you have your judgement day. The devil himself huffs watching you stay silent, in which he took to an offence as he grabs forward your neck lifting you by only one percentage of his strength.

He stared into your lustful longing eyes, longing so deeply for him and only him; it made Donghyuck feel so good and validated to have as someone obsessed as you wanting to attain him, to rail you until you’re crying tears and it doesn’t bother him or you.

“You can admit it. Tell me how no one else can satisfy you like i do.”

He deepens, watching your mouth slip open.

“We just gotten started. I can’t answer that without evidence.” You murmur though it all came down to your plan of teasing the entity in which you will soon realise you shouldn’t of done that; but did you regret it in the future? Absolutely not. The way your ignorant words shot him and his damn ego, clenching his jaw at you, he smirks balling the tongue at the corner of his cheek. He drops you down on the bed where he stands up.

The man walks over to the end frame of the bed. With a grab to your first, out of thin air he teleports a pair of handcuffs in the same palm; attaching your left wrist to the bed frame and so did he with your right wrist to the bedroom frame too.

He looks at you with a proud expression that left you far more exposed again, wide legs open as your arms were tugging on the metallic objects resisting you from moving. He gals at you like black petrol dangerously surrounding you at a pool helplessly.

“I will make you eat your words.” He bleats.

With y/n’s hands restrained above the bed structured frame, spread and ready to take the lengthy cock belonging to the one and only devil, you came to a realisation quickly once the burning pain stretches with sheer girth out the velvety slimy walls. Thank god he made you come so many times otherwise you would’ve struggled much more, a mere tip had you gripping nothing but air . Digging own fingertips in your skin to the point of scrapping it with blood. Himself, Donghyuck couldn’t help but let out a satisfying hum run out his open mouth gaping down as he watches himself bulk in your body like it was made for him. The way he saw a shadow of his cock buried deep in you just on your stomach, made his eyes roll backwards in his head. You bite down on your lip, eyeing him up and down, he looks back at you with a reflective expression.

For a moment. Y/n swore she saw a flash of emotions run on Donghyuck’s face, making her heart skip a beat when the man’s face crashed forward. Whispering a string of praises.

“Hell’s sake, you’re made to take my cock my beautiful soul. You’re doing so well.” He beams watching you take every inch inside. As you should be.

You whine leaning back on the pillows. “More. Please more. I want you to move.”

He grins at the way you’re pleading a list of desires straightforwardly, all because of getting dick tonight, in a way this was possibly the most fun desire he has committed and probably the most intimate. Never in his lifetime (that he’s lived in so far) would he thought he’s involving himself in a situation with a mortal involving sex. It would be a lie to say, he isn’t enjoying it because he very much is enjoying it way more than he thought he would.

“I’m going to indulge a little bit then.” He tells you obediently doing as you told him to. Who was he to say no to you when you’re out here commanding so passionately?

Rocking the hips inwards with ramming motions flicking the air side to side with every thrust going inside you, pushing in more inches of his cock, your body reacts by jolting upwards at the first sensation of almost resembling ripping in half. The more pain the more addictive the pleasure came later, quick overtaking your radioactive brain on focus mode; your mouth drops open, as did your eyes wide as day seeing heaven in on your bedroom ceiling. You pray the lord himself isn’t watching you from above the holy gates, so he couldn’t see how slut out you are for the inhuman entity in front of you, rambling on such cursing words that would entice anyone on. You confess in your head, mentally prepping yourself to seek forgiveness afterwards. But would you want to seek forgiveness when you have this deep feeling in the deep darkness pits of your stomach that you’re most likely going to repeat this situation again… or perhaps even long and pray for Donghyuck again.

Every little movement meant so much to you, you felt everything ten times thousandth fold. The senses heighten and you weren’t sure if it was because of how good Donghyuck is railing your body like there will be no tomorrow for you to see daylight, as if he was planning to ruin you completely, like you were god’s most favourite human in this realm and he was messing you up to be corrupted so he can laugh at the man’s face for taking something so valuable. In other words, he wasn’t leaving until he makes you physically unable to walk again.

In the missionary position with a final thrust forward he stops, suddenly causing you to reopen your eyes to look right at him. The man lifts both of your legs up, folding them in half towards his chest where he brings himself up just a bit, resting above you. Somehow in this position it felt more feral, he felt more animalistic, because this way you felt him press on an area inside you that he didn’t quite hit in the previous position. You gasp once the rough fisting tip of his cock jabs forward repeatedly, making your body squirm.

Million electrical charges run on your bed. Donghyuck has pressed your head down on the pillow, as he continues to fuck into you his large springs of come, painting the inside of your womb white like it were snowing. You grasp palms tightly as you fidget on the metallic handcuffs on the bed frame, small blood running out of your palm as you were scratching and pinching it from the amount of pleasure he was giving you at once, without a merciful thought to you.

He didn’t spare you any kindness and why would he? The man looks down at you with sweaty bangs, a lustful red-eyes glowing right at you, those same dangerous horrific eyes that will give you hauntingly nightmares every night forever . The devil watches how your chest pumps for oxygen, he can hear the raging heartbeat going haywire and he loves it. Donghyuck darkly watching you like you were one of his victims he has killed before.

You’re just like the rest of them. One of the thousands mortals that sold their soul to him for something in return. But he has One Thousand Desires waiting just for you.

No one else can have them only you…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu!! Reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out <33

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mooodyblue · 1 year

Text

lost | 70s!elvis x gn!reader

summary: a night in elvis's room goes far more different than you had imagined.

wc: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of loneliness, small mention of sex(nothing sexual goes down in this), overuse of sleeping pills and mentions of god.

a/n: this is sad. i wrote this while i was crying over elvis. that's how sad this is. enjoy!

masterlist

there were rumors about elvis bringing people back to his hotel rooms. you didn't know much about it though. the tabloids just loved to come up with all sorts of stories when it came to him.

and to be fair, what he wants to do in his free time after shows is none of your business.

you weren't that kind of fan. the kind of fan screaming and jumping up and down in your seat begging for a kiss. you enjoyed the show, kept to yourself and took in the moment.

apparently, elvis liked that about you.

there was a moment during the show where he went off to the side and pointed at you while speaking to charlie. you didn't think much of it. maybe he was pointing at the girl behind you. things like this didn't happen to you. what would elvis presley want from you anyway? you were an ordinary person with not much to offer.

once the concert ended, your ears left ringing as you were hit with that sudden empty feeling one gets after a concert, you were stopped by the same man elvis was speaking to earlier. you panicked as he introduced himself to you and asked if you were in a rush to get home. there was no way you'd beat the traffic now and you were curious as to why he was asking you this in the first place.

"elvis would like to meet you."

you blinked a few times, taking in the words that just came out of his mouth. instead of just saying okay, the only word to escape your lips was "why?".

he was taken back by your response, usually expecting a more riled up reply. "i-i'm not sure." he stuttered out. "i believe it's personal. we're offering you a ride back to his hotel."

"well-okay."

the car ride was slightly awkward. it was silent and you were often given a side eye through the mirrors as if he was trying to figure out why elvis would want you at his hotel and not another woman.

he brought you up to elvis's room, knocking a few times before a faint 'come in' was heard from the other side. charlie gestured for you to go in to which you thanked him and entered the cool, dimmed hotel room. you shut the door behind you and stood there awkwardly, unsure of how exactly to make your presence known.

it was a nice little room. his suits were hanging neatly in the closet, jewelry was spread out on a table as well as various pill bottles and a glass of water right beside them.

elvis wandered out of the bathroom, hair damp with his pajamas on comfortably. "oh!" he stepped back slightly. "are you-"

"um-charlie said you wanted to see me." nervousness heavy in your voice.

"right!" he snapped his fingers. "forgot for a moment. nice to meet ya. no need to be scared or anythin'" he chuckled.

you couldn't help but give him a small smile, he was so gorgeous up close. and god, he smelt wonderfully. you could have practically melted right there. you introduced yourself to him, shaking his hand as he gestured for you to take a seat on the sofa.

"sure you're wonderin' why i asked you up here." he said, opening a small bottle of pills and spilling a few in his hand. "promise it's nothin' crazy. i know them magazines say some things about me." he popped the pills in his mouth, washing it down with the glass of water. "sleeping pills, by the way. helps with my insomnia."

you nodded, minding your business as always.

he sighed, taking a seat next to you. "honestly, y-you might think it's silly." he voiced out, letting out an awkward laugh. "i-i really just wanted someone to talk to. it gets lonesome sometimes."

"lonesome?" you repeated back. it was hard to believe someone like elvis presley was lonely. he seemed to have many friends, girlfriends too. having charlie bring you back to his hotel just for the sole purpose of elvis having someone to talk to was new to you. you couldn't help but wonder if his charlie or any of his other friends knew why you were in his hotel room. "you?"

he shrugged, sitting back and throwing an arm behind you on the sofa, his hands rubbing at the leathered texture. "is it that hard to believe?" he asked.

"well...." you paused, looking over at him. "yes."

he shook his head, looking out the window. "everyone always makes me out to be someone i'm not." he muttered sadly. "you probably thought i brought ya in here for sex, right? for a quickie?"

you widened your eyes at him. he had a point, that's the reasoning you had in mind. you weren't just going to admit it obviously, that felt disrespectful. what's even crazier is you would have been open to it, but really, you were okay with just sitting down and talking to him.

elvis let out a soft laugh, waving you off. "'s fine. y'can leave if ya want. i get it." he said with a hint of sadness to his voice.

"and what if i don't leave?"

his eyes lit up, sitting up slightly. "you mean that?"

you wondered if any girls had left him for that very reason, expecting a sex filled night from the king himself but only to be hit with nothing but conversation. the idea of him having to show girls the way out for not wanting to talk stirred a few emotions within you. you almost felt bad. "of course. i'm pretty good listener, i think."

elvis began to get slowly comfortable with you over time. overtime, you understood more why he just sometimes wanted someone to talk to. he spoke to you about books, his love for gospel music and how spiritual he is. spirituality wasn't much of your thing, but you were deeply fascinated with how passionate he was about it. "god has a plan for everyone, everything happens for a reason." he said to you, taking ahold of your hands. "b-but sometimes, it's just hard. as if all i have is the lord." he let out a heavy sigh and let go of your hands. "what is my purpose?"

unsure of what to say, you sat there frozen. this wasn't the conversation you thought you'd be having with elvis. you watched as he stood up and shoved hands in his pockets, his bare feet padding to the large window showing the glowing lights from the building across the street. he stood there, staring at the city lights. "sometimes i'm tired of playin' elvis presley."

his words broke your heart. the loneliness and dread he felt must have been so heavy and you only wished you could take it away from him. "i'm just talkin' your ear off. 'm sorry. don't get to talk about things like this often."

"no-no, it's okay. really. i'm just....at a loss for words if i'm being honest." you finally spoke. "the papers really do have you all wrong."

he scoffed. "they're all trash." he muttered. "nobody ever wants to know how elvis is feelin', nobody ever wants to ask how he's doin'. been this way for the last ten years."

"i can't believe i have something in common with elvis presley." you joked.

he gave you a quick glance, chuckling softly to himself. "at least we have eachother."

"something like that." you said lowly. "do you just feel....i don't know, trapped?"

he looked at you surprised, rushing over to you and taking a seat next to you again. "that's exactly how it feels." there was a hint of excitement in his voice, as if he was happy to have someone who finally understood him. "i can't have an opinion on nothin', i didn't wanna film all those movies. i didn't wanna do this tour."

you frowned. "what do you wanna do, then?"

his lips perked up slightly. "i wanna leave the country. fly far away, take some time to myself. just to heal. i-i wanna be healthy again." he looked down at himself, letting a sad sigh. "i ain't what i used to be. tired of all the same songs i gotta sing every night, just wanna sing the songs i wanna sing."

you rested your hand on his knee, the sudden touch jolting him softly but bringing him some sort of comfort. "you really do amaze me."

he blushed slightly, looking at the floor. he couldn't remember the last time someone had said that to him. it was nice to be seen has a human being and not a rock star for once, if you'd call it that.

"look at me." elvis had suddenly gone shy, almost afraid to make eye contact with you. "i'm serious, elvis. after tonight, i gained a lot of respect for you. really. you and i are so alike....."

"what about you?" he asked. "what do you wanna do?"

you thought for a minute. "i too, would like to travel. i don't really know what i wanna do. i don't really have any dreams."

"no kids? getting married?"

you shrugged. "i gave up on that. it's just not gonna happen for me and i'm slowly just starting to accept it."

"hmm." elvis stood up and walked over to the dresser, popping a couple more pills into his mouth. "definitely feel that." he mumbled as he sat back down. you wanted to bring up the pills, asking why he took more. you did notice how the dose he took earlier hadn't kicked in as you both been sitting there talking for quite some time now.

"do you want to get married again?" you asked instead, ignoring the sudden pill usage.

he got silent, fidgeting with one of the rings on his fingers as he stared at the floor.

"sorry, i-i shouldn't have said anything. i know-um-the divorce really...."

he interrupted you. "it's fine." he muttered. "it is what it is." you both grew for a moment, knowing that lingering on that topic wasn't a good idea. "would be nice though, falling in love 'n all that. my momma always wanted me to settle down. can't even get that right."

"you know how you told me everything happens for a reason?" elvis raised a brow at you. "i'm sure there's someone out there for you, you still have a lot of life to live."

he stared at you for a minute, taking in your presence and the words that just came out of your mouth. "you deserve to heal."

the tears in his eyes said enough, he didn't know how to respond. just an hour ago you saw this same man run and jump around on stage and now here he is, vulnerable and lost. your words struck a chord with him. "nobody has ever said that to me before." he shook his head in disbelief, a slight tremble in his voice.

"but i'm here now and i mean it, you deserve the love that you give." you added.

"how am i supposed to know if someone loves me for me a-and not for elvis presley?" his voice filled with sadness.

you scooted closer to him, gently rubbing at his back. "you'll know."

he gave you a soft smile in response. the heaviness in his heart was easing away. this was something he wished he could do more often, talk to people. to vent and have people understand him. there was something special about you that he really admired, like you saw him as a human being and not as some big celebrity. "god brought you to me for a reason." he threw his head back on the couch, feeling the effects of his pills start to finally take its coarse through his body. "i like you."

"is that so?" you noticed the quick change in his body language, moving yourself to prop an elbow on top of the sofa, resting your temple on your fist.

"mhm." he closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. "easy to talk to. 't's all i wanted...jus' t' talk....nothin' more." he slurred out. "'n y'know somethin'? y' deserve to be happy too."

you gulped, trying to not let his words get to you. you stood up and held out your hand. "i think we need to get you in bed." you muttered.

"too much sadness 'n pain in this world." he continued, "someone like you doesn't deserve all that." elvis sat up slightly, looking at you with tired eyes. "y' made me v'ry happy tonigh'...."

his words continued to slur more and you just wanted to get him in bed then make your exit, if he'd let you obviously. you helped him off the couch while he continued to ramble on about you, comparing your feelings to his. he managed to get himself in bed, only having you help him get the comforter over his body.

"hol' on." he said to you as you began to gather your things. "will you stay wit' me?"

you looked at him in bewilderment, "i-i don't know if that's a good idea...."

"please?" he begged with a hint of hurt in his voice. "don' leave me here alone. jus' want a friend...'s all."

part of you wanted to stay but part of you was afraid of what would happen in the morning. would he leave you in the morning? would he forget this entire conversation? you'd grown attached to elvis in just a short amount of time, aching to be by his side at all times. perhaps he was right, god did bring you to him for a reason. hopefully a good one.

giving into your thoughts, you set your things back down and gave him a soft look. whatever happens in the morning is up to god. it's in his hands. "okay."

#elvis x reader

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karatekels · 7 months

Text

Scream For Me – Chapter 1:

We’re back in the Fresh Start-verse for this one! I’ve missed this Terry and Reader (and Victor) so much! 😭

This is going to be a two chapter arc, and while there shouldn’t be anything bad in this one, the next post is going to be DARK. I hope you like it!

No real trigger warnings for this part (maybe some vague plotting), but the next part will be full of them, so don't get invested in this if you don't think you'll want to read that sort of thing.

---

“He ended up beating the kid I had handpicked as my champion in Sudden-Death. John was devastated, and he disappeared – I never saw him again after we lost the tournament. And it… it ruined me, Y/N,” Terry confesses to you with a pained, faraway expression, his head resting on your lap while he sprawled across the rest of the sofa in your bedroom.

You look down at him with sad eyes, running your fingers through his silver-white curls soothingly. It wasn’t often that Terry opened up to you about his past like this – he was content to leave it behind him where it belonged, especially since it could stir up unpleasant memories for awhile afterwards – and you always cherished the moments when he was willing to share with you, no matter how the stories might hurt you both.

“I hit rock bottom, lost myself, sent my first company into a nosedive, nearly lost everything that four generations of my family had worked to build up, nearly overdosed more times than I can remember…” he trails off, his pale blue eyes wide and staring up into yours. You move your hand from his hair to stroke the side of his face, smiling softly down at him. His eyes flutter closed before he turns his head to the side, nuzzling his face against your palm and breathing deeply.

“But all of that was worth it, now that I know that working through it would ultimately lead me to you,” he murmurs, and your heart melts, the way it always did when Terry was particularly sweet and open with his feelings for you, even a year and a half later.

“…Even if I truly don’t deserve you.”

You let out a weary sigh; you hate hearing him speak about himself like this, like none of the work he had done to become the man you knew and loved mattered in the long run.

“I wish you wouldn’t say things like that, Terry. You are the most wonderful man, and it hurts to hear that you don’t see it.”

“Did you miss the part where I psychologically tortured a child into bloodying his knuckles? And laughed about it?” he snorts derisively, dismissing your attempts to defend him.

“There were so many other factors that caused you to make those decisions, love. And even if that was the man you were, it isn’t the man you are now, and he’s the one I fell in love with,” you counter, leaning down to kiss the tip of his nose. “You are sweet, and kind, and generous, and considerate, and I count myself lucky everyday that you foolishly chose to love me back.”

“You are far too forgiving, my dear,” Terry informs you, reaching a hand up to cup your cheek. “I doubt you’d feel the same way if you had been around to see me do any of the terrible things I’ve done.”

“Maybe you’re right,” you say with a shrug. “I really can’t picture it at all.”

“Which part are you trying to picture?” he asks. “I assure you, it’s all still buried somewhere inside of me.”

“I can’t picture any of it, really. Breaking into that old man’s home, hurting anyone… I can’t picture you being scary at all, to be honest,” you confess, tossing your head back with a warm laugh.

Terry bolts upright, moving to sit on the other end of the couch to face you, and gives you a look.

“What?”

You cock your head at him, wondering at his reaction. “What?”

“You don’t think I’m scary?”

You try to look at him with a neutral expression, but can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles at how offended he looks right now.

“No! Should I?” you ask jokingly, raising an eyebrow at him.

“No,” he admits grudgingly. “But you should know that I can be!”

Trying to quell your laughter, you crawl across the couch to him, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck, moving your head to try to catch his eye; he is stubbornly avoiding your gaze, like a petulant child.

“I’m sorry, Terry!” you tell him, genuinely not wanting to hurt his feelings or his sense of masculinity; he demonstrated the latter in dozens of other ways than being scary…

“I know that you are big, and strong, and could kick someone’s ass with one hand behind your back, and that you’ve got this big, dark past… but in my eyes you’ll always be a big teddybear.”

He gives you a dark, brooding look, and remains silent.

“Ter-ry!” you whine. You hate when he gives you the silent treatment. “It’s not a bad thing, not being that person anymore. It doesn’t make you any less of a man or anything.”

“Oh, I am fully aware of how much of a man I am, Y/N,” he sneers at you crossly, standing up with you still wrapped around him and stalking from the seating area over to the bed, tossing you onto the mattress unceremoniously. “Let me show you…”

---

Terry’s POV:

Terry splashes his face with water from the bathroom sink, patting himself dry with a towel and gazing at his reflection in the bathroom mirror with a frown.

You had called him a teddybear…

It almost made Twig sound macho by comparison.

He had worked hard on himself for decades to stop being the cruel, vindictive man that relished in passing on a fraction of his deep-seated traumas to others. He had tried to atone for his sins, contributing to charities and getting out of the toxic waste industry. He had spent endless hours in all sorts of therapy, getting over the War, addiction, his parents’ deaths, John…

None of this meant that he was no longer able to strike fear – Strike first. Strike hard. No mercy. – into anyone who dared to cross him the wrong way. That part of him, while it had laid mostly dormant over the years, still lurked within him, coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

He was still Terry Silver, and all that that entailed. He could still get his hands dirty, still fight, still drag information out of someone, one way or another…

Still kill, if he had to.

How could you not know that?

Perhaps he had gone too far in his rehabilitation, had hidden away some of the core parts of him a little too well.

But they were still there, even if you had never seen them. Maybe it was time that you did…

He slinks out of the bathroom, picking up his clothing and dressing silently, staring at you the whole time and seething. You are passed out in bed, looking thoroughly ravished, as you should, your hair a wild mess and your skin covered in fresh love bites. Serves you right for underestimating him, in his opinion. And the pounding he had just given you was nothing compared to what he is planning now; you would never question his abilities again. You would never question him again.

He loves you so much.

Enough to let you see all of him, even if you don’t want to face the truth.

Now fully dressed, he turns and slips out of the master bedroom, immediately pulling out his phone and making the call before he’s fully closed the door behind him.

“Sir.”

“I need to speak with you, Victor. Where are you right now?”

“Surveillance room on the ground floor, Sir.”

“Stay put. I’ll come to you.”

He ends the call, immediately sweeping through the house to Victor’s office at the other end of the mansion. The door opens as he approaches, and he sees himself in one of the monitors over Victor’s right shoulder.

The man was very good at his job.

“What can I help you with, Mr. Silver?” Victor asks the moment he closes the door behind Terry, straight to business as usual.

“Two nights from now, from say… 9 o’clock until noon the next day, I want everyone out.”

“Sure thing, Boss.”

“Including you, Victor.”

There is a pause as Victor contemplates this requirement in silence. Terry knows that the man is particularly protective, and takes his job very seriously. It’s what Terry pays him so well for, after all.

“That… shouldn’t be a problem,” he concedes after a moment.

“I’m going to need all security devices disabled during that time, and the phone lines jammed, with the exception of my personal number.”

Victor stares at him as though he’s lost his mind. Perhaps he has.

“Would you like to tell me what the hell this is all about?” he demands. Terry wouldn’t tolerate any other employee speaking to him in such a way, but Victor was far more than just an employee. He had proven himself time and again, and become the closest confidante (aside from you) that he’d had since Margaret.

Hell, there were things about him that even you didn’t know, but Victor did.

“Nothing sinister,” Terry purrs, smiling wickedly. “It’s a… surprise, for Y/N.”

“What’s the occasion, Boss?” he asks, still skeptical. Terry levels him with an indignant look.

“She said I wasn’t scary, Victor.”

“Oh. Oh. Poor girl,” Victor mumbles, chuckling darkly at the implication of his words.

“Thank you, Victor.”

Victor has quite the soft spot for you, but your relationship is still antagonistic, if light-hearted. While he in no way wants to know the specifics of the dark and depraved acts Terry is sure he is imagining, anything that involves you being taken down a peg or two is more than enough justification for him to get onboard with whatever Terry has planned.

“What do you need from me, then?” Victor asks, back-to-business.

“A guarantee that everyone is out by nine without her noticing, and that no one whispers a word of this to Y/N. I’ll need you to handle the staff and sweep the place before leaving yourself; she’s going to think I’m out of town for a few days.”

Victor snorts at the lengths he’s going to, but doesn’t say a word against them; he knows better than that.

“Aren’t you worried she’s going to, I don’t know, kill you after all of this?” he asks, half-joking.

As the maniacal grin spreads across his face, Terry feels like a snake shedding its skin, and is deeply pleased by how easily this side of him is showing itself again. He knew it had always remained inside of him, but this was reassuring nonetheless.

“I’m not concerned about her reaction at all.”

---

You find him in his armory of Japanese weapons on the second floor some time later, lured by the sound of him whistling. He is absent-mindedly looking at his collection of daggers, finding the violent side he has awakened in himself temporarily appeased with handling the blades.

“You certainly seem chipper,” you comment in a husky voice, a seductive sway to your hips as you approach him, still rumpled from earlier. “What could be the cause of that, I wonder?” you ask teasingly, wrapping yourself around him.

His silly, foolish woman.

You have no idea what you’re in for.

“What indeed?” he replies coyly, kissing you on the forehead. He couldn’t give you cause for suspicion for the next day or so; it wouldn’t do to ruin the surprise.

You giggle, staring up at him so sweetly. A part of him feels bad that he’s going to break you.

But the rest of him doesn’t.

“Whatcha doing?” you ask, still pressed up against him.

“I was waiting for someone to wake up,” he replies with mock-exasperation, grinning down at you. He had forgotten how fun it was to be deceptive, to wear a mask of what someone wanted to see and lie straight to their face.

“I forgot to tell you; I have to go away for a couple of nights. It was supposed to be later in the month, but my meetings have been bumped up.”

“Anywhere fun?” you ask, clearly fishing for an invitation to accompany him. He did love you blowing him as they flew in his private plane…

“Vancouver,” he replies smoothly, raising a brow at you.

You had come to hate the rain; L.A. had spoiled you.

Sure enough, you grimace, and he internally crows in victory.

“Pass,” you mutter, more to yourself than to him. “When do you leave?”

“Tomorrow afternoon.”

“But that’s so soon!” you complain, pouting at him. Terry silently vows to have this bratty image of you in mind when he’s got you pinned face down a few nights from now; he adores it (he adores all of you), but can’t deny that making this side of you beg for mercy would be particularly delicious.

“I know, darling. We’ll have to make the most of the next few hours, won’t we?” he soothes, giving you a warm smile that makes you melt.

Later that night, when he’s packing for his ‘trip,’ he slips one of the daggers into his suitcase. The rest of his… supplies would be purchased once he left.

---

Two days later…

Reader’s POV:

Terry has only been gone for a day and a half, but you still miss him terribly. While you had become far more comfortable here over the last year and a few months, it still felt strange when Terry wasn’t at home with you. He made this place feel warm and inviting; He was your home.

You still hadn’t been able to get used to having the staff members around, looking to you for instructions or guidance when Terry wasn’t around, but they had mostly learned to leave you to your own devices if Terry was away. They made the house feel less lonely, at least, just by their presence.

You have been relaxing in the bathtub for quite awhile now, and decide it’s about time you went to bed. Draining the tub, you towel yourself off, feeling deliciously warm and relaxed, and slip into a pair of comfy pyjamas. That was one nice thing about Terry travelling without you, at least. You had long since stopped wearing pyjamas to bed since moving in here; they never stayed on the whole night anyway.

As you brush your teeth, you look across the bathroom counter for your phone, frowning when you don’t see it. You move over to the tub, checking around the edge of it – maybe you had brought it over while you were running your bath and had forgotten about it – but it isn’t there either. Strange… you swear you had taken it into the bathroom with you.

Shaking your head at your own forgetfulness, you finish getting ready for bed and leave the bathroom, momentarily distracted by the moonlight shining through the window. Walking over to it, you look down to the beach with a sigh; this view always made you think of the first night you’d spent here.

You return to looking for your phone. You had definitely wanted to charge it while you slept, and it would be nice to text Terry a quick ‘Goodnight!’. He was in the same time zone, after all.

The moonlight illuminates something, reflecting the white light and catching your eye, and you move over to it. A piece of thick cardstock, folded in half, sits on the coffee table. You’re surprised you didn’t notice it sooner, and pick it up with a smile.

When you had first moved here, Terry had left you little cards like these when he had to leave, full of sweet words and occasionally filthy promises. He hadn’t done this in ages, though…

You flip open the card, and recognize his handwriting, but instead of the lengthy message you anticipated, only one word is scrawled on the inside of the note.

Run.

[^ Him plotting with Victor over the phone once he leaves for his "trip"]

---

Maniacal little fucker. I love him.

Part 2 here!

#thomas ian griffith #terry silver #terry silver x reader #cobra kai #dark desires october #fresh start #the return of victor #eventual smut

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classic80sand90smovieloves2 · 10 months

Text

Meeting and Dating Ray Thurston

(My gif/I NEED YOU TO IGNORE IT)(Requested by anonymous)

(I tried my best with his impressive three minutes of screentime lol. I also don’t know how their powers work but everyone was talking about a painless death so I went with that and made a cliffhanger. Sorry)

- “My first and last boyfriend”. Before moving to Dark falls, that inconspicuous statement held a far different meaning than it does now: it would have marked the start of a beautiful love story; a retrospective tale of pure romantic perfection. Nowadays, it marks the start of a terrifying horror story wrapped up in a sickly sweet coat of devotion.

- When you first met Ray, you’d only been in town for a couple of days: having just finished cleaning your room and unpacking your things in the home that smelled of dust and mildew. You’d resigned yourself to thinking of the place as a prison, a lonely and boring abode that would continue to stay that way until you; hopefully, made some friends at your new high school. Fortunately; or unfortunately, for you, you’d end up waiting for far less time….

- Maybe that was it, you’d thought to yourself, staring up at the gray sky and straining your ears to listen for any semblance of a bird call; of any sign of life, coming from the area around you. You came back with nothing, nothing but the swaying of leaves and the sound of the wind: up until a rustling nearby jostled you out of your thoughts, sending your heart into a fit of erratic beats and your head swinging in order to find the perpetrator.

- Walking in woods that you weren’t necessarily familiar with wasn’t exactly your idea of fun, but the cable hadn’t been set up yet and your belongings were bringing you little to no excitement, so exploring the trees behind your home was the next best thing.

- The place gave you the creeps whether you wanted to admit it or not. Dark and seemingly completely devoid of wildlife, the eerie atmosphere sent a chill running down your spine. The place felt wrong, wrong in ways you couldn’t quite place: it felt like everything around you was screaming that you shouldn't be there and yet, there was absolutely nothing at all; not even the chirping of birds.

- Nothing, nothing at all, nothing until you heard a low whistle coming from the opposite direction and whipped your head around to find a boy not much older than you, slowly walking in your general direction.

“Was that just you?” you’d called out, wanting the assurance that he’d thrown a rock or something; that there was a logical reason for the strange happenings surrounding you.

- But when he lifted his head to look at you, his brows furrowed slightly and he merely asked if you meant the whistle, shifting his trek so that he was approaching you fully instead of the wide berthing circle he’d seemed to be making before. He repeated the sound as he stopped in front of you and you shook your head.

“No, not that. The rustling.”

“The rustling?”

“The rustling over there.” you pointed behind you, a slight hint of frustration finding its way into your tone.

“How could I have made a noise over there if I was coming from the other way?” He asked, his voice harboring an air of amusement.

- The question hit you like a bucket of water, sobering you up and making you feel slightly silly. It was probably just a bird; the same type of bird you’d been searching everywhere for just a few moments prior: and here you were, making yourself look like a total freak in front of the first kid you’d managed to stumble upon in your new, weirdly quiet town.

- You relented, admitting he was right before apologizing, explaining that you’d just moved in and that you were probably just looking for things to freak you out: that you weren't used to the area yet; that sort of thing. He reassured you that it was alright, his tone oddly smooth and somewhat robotic, as though he was thinking very carefully about what to say. You chose to brush it off, wanting so badly to have some sort of friend in your new town that you were willing to look past the weirdness; at least until summer ended.

- You started to make conversation, asking him questions and offering up some information about yourself, awkwardly moving on whenever he answered you with silence. You were torn between finding him strange and thinking that maybe you were the weirdo: maybe he was the norm around here and you were the outsider who acted odd and talked too much. Him being older and handsome certainly didn’t help….

- Regardless, just as soon as it had started, your meeting was over. Concerningly suddenly, he’d interrupted your rambling and told you that he had to go, almost immediately walking in the same direction he’d come with hardly a parting glance. You stumbled over a goodbye, wondering if you’d done something wrong: too confused to take notice of the sun that had just begun to shine directly down onto you.

- It’s a few days later when Ray finds you again, plopping down next to you as you’re sitting in those same woods. He ignores his prior speedy exit, looking over you silently as you nervously look anywhere but him. You shyly tell him that you thought you’d made him mad or something, laughing off the awkwardness before he earnestly tells you “no”, that he just had somewhere that he needed to be; saying it with such finality that you can't bring yourself to question it.

- Things continue to carry on like that: him disappearing for a while then randomly showing up again. You get used to his fickle presence; same with his cryptic way of acting and talking. You even start to get closer to him, considering him a friend of sorts; especially after meeting more of the kids in your town and realizing he’s one of the least weird people living there.

- You start to spend more time with him, letting him take you through the different parts of the woods and inviting him into your home, even finding yourself dreaming about him on occasion; feeling a bit like he’s never really gone even when you don’t expressly see him. It’s a foreign feeling and just as much as it worries you, you also begin to find it sort of exciting; particularly because you’ve begun to develop a bit of a crush on him.

- The feelings seem to be mutual: what with the way he holds your hand and your shoulders, sits thigh to thigh with you, makes a habit of always showing up and never staying away for too long. He looks at you with this certain intensity that no one else ever has, this sort of unabashed interest that most people would be too nervous to show. It makes you nervous, it draws you in....

- It’s the way he looks at you when you cut your leg on a stray branch, blood seeping from the wound as you hiss and stop in your tracks. He stops too and asks what's the matter as you kneel down to examine the damage. He remains silent while and after you explain and before you can straighten up with a disappointed tsk, he’s already kneeling before you, gripping your leg as his eyes remain glued to the bleeding slice.

“I’m really okay.” you assure him, wincing as he strokes a finger across the angry red, gathering the droplets as he goes. Your brows furrow as you watch him, confused by his behavior and suddenly feeling as though he might be a lot weirder than you’d already anticipated.

- He leans down even further as your mind races, pressing his lips to the wound, causing you to recoil at the sensation, stumbling to your feet, your own eyes training on the stain of blood on his pale lips.

“I should go home,” you say quickly, gulping a bit. “...Clean this.”

- And with that, you rush off, long gone by the time he licks his lips and places his red stained finger onto his tongue.

- It’s only a few nights later that the inevitable happens. You awaken in the dead of night to find him in your room, scaring you half to death. You ask him what he’s doing and he tells you he wants to try something, telling you to close your eyes and assuring you that it won't hurt. You hesitantly do as he says and before long, you feel his cool lips pressed against your own, soft and tentative.

- Though it takes you by surprise you slowly start to kiss back, melting into it before you start to feel strange. You pull away slowly, ignoring the way he momentarily chases your lips.

“I don’t feel so good.” you say quietly, your vision blurring at the edges and your heartbeat feeling far too slow.

“It doesn’t hurt, right? I don’t want it to hurt. You shouldn’t feel a thing.” He tells you and your brows furrow further in confusion, your mind struggling to keep up and your body squirming away as he reaches out and pulls you into him, cradling you to his chest.

“It’ll be over soon, then we’ll be together again. Really together.”

“What did you do?” You ask, voice just above a whisper, vision cutting out before your face can lift completely and look him in the eyes.

- It’s then that you drift into unconsciousness, asleep for the last time, never to truly wake again….

- Even though the meeting portion of this story very obviously points towards you becoming one of the walking dead before your relationship really takes off, I’m gonna treat these headcanons as if the two of you got together before you died, just because it’s easier and because I think it adds to the dynamic.

- Ray has a somewhat concerning habit of giving you a blank stare whenever you show him affection, which usually winds up making you feel a bit like you did something wrong; though that’s definitely not his intention. He actually really likes when you touch him and he likes touching you even more: it’s just that he doesn’t know how to respond whenever you suddenly grab his arm or decide to give him a kiss. He always has a slightly confused look on his face, like he’s trying to figure out what you did that for. It fades the longer you’re together but it’ll always linger; mainly because the emotionless look is just a product of being dead.

- Pda is give or take depending on the weather and how recently he’s fed. He’s not an incredibly touchy person to begin with; most people would probably mistake the two of you for being close friends if they ever saw you out in public together, but he doesn’t necessarily have anything against it. He just doesn’t have a habit of partaking, aside from a random kiss which tends to surprise anyone who’s watching. He’ll also hold your hand quite a bit but it tends to give off creepy sibling vibes to onlookers instead of “cute couple”.

- The two of you are kind of unnerving with the way you gravitate and push off of each other like two separate magnets constantly changing charges. It would have an especially strong effect after you become a permanent member of the town: kind of like those semi-racist Siamese cats in the lady and the tramp except unnerving and supernatural.

- Have you ever seen a couple; more or less, teasingly act like each other's parents? That’s how Ray acts; except he’s pretty much being completely serious. He just has this really doting way of treating you: standing in front of you with both hands on your shoulders to tell you something, pulling you in to press a cold kiss to your forehead, holding your face in his hands and gingerly tucking hair behind your ears. If he wasn’t so earnest, it would definitely feel a bit condescending.

- His kisses are always soft and sweet, his lips cold and slightly chapped. He tends to leave you wanting more, the featherlight touches just barely enough to satisfy you. He kind of likes seeing you yearn: and considering the fact that he’s dead and no longer attuned to wordly emotions; it’s easy enough for him to hold off and enjoy your desperation.

- He calls you by your full name; regardless of whether or not you have a nickname or express any interest in couples pet names. He just doesn’t find a point in calling you babe or something of the sort. It’s another thing that sets him apart from everyone else; and would probably make your friends think he’s weird: like a strange home schooled/Amish kid that acts more like a youth pastor than a boyfriend.

- Cuddling is a great hobby to have when your boyfriend physically cannot be in the sun and it’s something you do fairly often; even though it’s borderline like snuggling a mannequin. Most of the time, you lean against him and cozy up to his side, letting him wrap a somewhat stiff arm around you while you sit down together. He might be a little unnervingly still but you learn to get used to it.

- I should probably inform you that he’s not always as emotionless as I’ve been portraying him to be: it’s just that, when he gets livelier and a bit teasing, it’s usually not too good of a sign. Seemingly at random, you’ll find yourself being clung to, having him scare you half to death by suddenly appearing and snatching you by the waist, his mouth nibbling playfully on your neck with a slight growl. You’ll learn soon enough that it’s a sign of hunger and while it might be fun to see him let loose and show more passion, you just wish it was under better circumstances.

- Admittedly, that's one of the pros of being the undead: being able to truly enjoy his playfulness without the fear of being eaten. You’ll grip onto each other and smile evilly, making mocking comments to the newest residents in town as you lick your lips and await your meals.

- Speaking of his affliction: there’s probably going to be a moment in time where you find out what he is; probably in one of the worst ways possible, and flee, running away from him in a stereotypical horror movie fashion. He’ll stalk you for the next few days or stay at your door, urging you to open up and talk to him and how he thought that you loved him.

- Gaslight, gatekeep, girl boss. Ray is not someone you should expect the full truth from because; even though he fully believes he’s doing what’s best for you, he’s bound to lie to you at some point and won’t always be on your side. He thinks that you’ll “understand in time” and that he’s protecting you from the truth but he’s still keeping secrets and borderline manipulating you so I don’t know, chief.

- That being said, if he truly loved you, he might just have a change of heart and let you go during your final confrontation, allowing you to escape the town and survive because he knows that he could never make you happy as a member of Dark Falls. No one would ever believe your story but god would it stay with you for the rest of your life....

- But, if you were more on board with the whole killing people thing, you may or may not have been enticed into helping them lure new victims into the town. It’s probably one of the only things that would wind up keeping you and your family alive for any length of time....

- Oh wow Ray! You sure do have a concerning understanding of the lay out of my house! I never noticed there was a hidden closet in the basement or space between the walls that people can fit through! I sure hope no one else knows about this and decides to watch me through the walls! Wait a minute....

- Getting visited in your room; oftentimes at night. Sometimes he’ll show up just to watch you sleep, dancing his fingers across your leg before clasping a hand over your mouth to stop you from screaming once you wake up and see him standing there. He pecks your lips once he removes his hand, momentarily stifling your anger as you contemplate how deranged he is.

- Your entire family sort of just learns to expect the unexpected because he’s simultaneously nowhere and everywhere all at once, always showing up at random and surprising you with his presence. You’re not sure how he gets in but he always has an excuse, no matter how implausible you’re beginning to find them.

- Having to get used to his fickle appearances. Though a large part of his appeal is the fact that he’s someone you get to come home to and have a sort of escape from reality, he’s not always around to greet you after a long day at school. You’ll begin to bemoan sunny days; though who’s to say he isn’t hiding out in your room with the curtains drawn tightly together.

- He probably occasionally walks over and surprises you after school, walking home with you and sparking a few rumors about your relationship and where he came from: since they never see him anywhere else unless he’s with you and because of his generally odd behavior.

- It’s best not to introduce him to anybody, unless they believe in the supernatural and/or are wildly nonjudgmental. You’ll just wind up making yourself upset since they’ll undoubtedly find his inability to pick up on social cues and his usual blank stare creepy, giving you humiliating looks as you grab him by the arm and haul him away.

- You’re honestly probably the sunshine girlfriend to his stoic, “moon energy”. He’ll look like he’s merely tolerating you but he actually secretly loves you and the way you stick flowers and feathers in his hat, kiss his cheek, and always give him a bright smile whenever you see him. It definitely makes him feel a little guilty about having to kill you….

- His sister also feels a bit bad. Even though she’s a bit younger than you, you still find yourself hanging out with her and having her tag along on a few of your dates. She’s generally a bit more lively than her brother and it’s always nice to have that extra bit of enthusiasm, no matter how used to your boyfriends behavior you get.

- Taking walks together, usually in the woods around Dark Falls; so long as there’s plenty of clouds.

- Picnics.

- Playing baseball together.

- Balancing on the railways that run through your town and making a game of who can stay on the longest.

- Showing him all the new stuff in the world; since he obviously can’t just enter a random shop and experience it for himself. You show him new music and movies, tell him about your day at school, describe different feelings to him, etc. In turn, he describes to you what it’s like to be dead; though he definitely tries to persuade you into letting him kill you so that you can feel it for yourself....

- Jealousy is almost completely foreign to him; or he at least never shows it whenever you manage to make him green with envy. He might feel a bit guilty over not being able to be a real boyfriend but he reasons that it’s easy enough for you to leave him if you really didn’t want to be with him; or that he can just kill you and make you totally his for the rest of eternity....

- Considering the fact that your boyfriend kind of wants you to die, its hard to explain whether he’s protective over you or not. I guess its in the realm of hey, only I'm allowed to kill her! So I guess that counts as something, right?

- Arguing with Ray is near impossible because he never gives you anything to work off of: he remains completely silent and emotionless as you rant to him or try to fight, so much so that you usually just run out of steam before you resolve anything. Most of the time, you’re just gonna have to silently deal with his shortcomings.

- He occasionally calmly apologizes if he did something to really upset you but I wouldn’t get my hopes up: he doesn’t mean it a lot of the time; merely trying to placate you since his calm talking points aren’t offering you any solace. He’s arguably not the best boyfriend but you’re the one who’s dating a zombie vampire so, ya know.

- He tells you that he loves you but it tends to feel just a little bit off, like there’s something different behind it or like there’s a hidden condition to it. He shows you that he does; at least partially, and he seems much more sincere when you finally become one of them.

- If you want to stay with him, you’re gonna have to let the town feed, there’s really no other way. You’ll be together forever after that; or at least until one of you gets left out in the sun.

#ray thurston imagine #ray thurston headcanon #ray thurston imagines #ray thurston headcanons #goosebumps imagine #goosebumps headcanons #goosebumps headcanon #goosebumps imagines #90s tv show imagine #90s tv show imagines #90s tv show headcanons #90s tv show headcanon

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lashysdomain · 3 months

Text

Scopaesthesia

tw for stalking

Arms stretched over her head Niriol leaves the corner store, a few bags in one hand from the late night snack run. She'd forgotten to shop the night before and it's too close to dawn for her to go for a proper trip.

Hitting the button on her fob Niri doesn't pay much mind when she doesn't hear the thunk of a car unlocking, simply opening the driver side door and climbing in. She probably forgot to lock it is the only thought that crosses her mind as her bags are set into the footwell of the adjoining seat. Time to get home before she falls asleep in the parking lot.

Pulling out of the parking lot it's a short uneventful drive back to her home. The unfamiliar music playing from her sound system strikes her as having some very strange composition, what with the odd shifting noises interspersed with the rest of the instrumental. It was a new station she'd picked out on the way over to keep her awake and one she'll change once back home it seems.

Once the violets car is pulled into her garage she steps out, pulling the bags with her so she won't have to go to the other side. Normally she'd close the garage door, but this morning is meant to be mild and there's no real reason for it when the weather isn't bad. Better to air out the dank smell of the concrete box.

Stepping up to the side door of her home the faint metallic thunk behind her makes her turn. It takes a moment or two for her to realize what the noise is, her heart skipping a beat seeing the far back seat door of her car ajar, closing a moment after she notices.

Swallowing hard she glances down to her hands, currently fumbling quicker with her various keys to find the one that matches the door behind her. Staring out into the garage isn't helping, she can't tell just by feel....

She looks down to try and find the right key as quickly as possible after realizing telling by feel is futile. Immediately she regrets it, the scuffing of shoes running snapping her attention up just in time to see the individual clad in blue rushing for her, their hands slamming beside her head against the door. They're considerably taller than her 5'3" stature causing her to shrink down in reflex, fins flicking back as her nerves begin to set in further.

"Hi! Niriol! I know it's like, reaaally kind of Not Cool to spring up on creators like this but you're going to have to forgive me, okay? I just, I have this new idea you see. I think you could pull it off really well, and you've not been messaging me back on Chitter, so I figured I'd, like, come tell you in person!"

An idea....? Usually Niri would gladly listen to any suggestions unless they were unreasonable.... There's not anyone lately that she'd had to tell no to.... Unless someone else had filtered their messages entirely from her...

Oh no.

"You're..."

"WingedBinger, yeah! I've been trying to get you to reply back to me for like half a sweep at this point! You can understand why I'm here now, right? Our first conversation was great! You were so sweet, you really seemed lovely! I-I've come up with new ideas, though! It's not the same one you said no to before!"

"I'm... Sorry I don't... Do the kind of shoots you've mentioned..."

"But you could! I could be the photographer if that's the issue! You're like really pretty, you could make a lot of people happy by doing more! For your fans!"

Sure Niriol got the occasional person who would wish she would wear things that were more revealing, but this person... They'd been trying to pressure her into that sort of content for the better part of a sweep now, using various alt accounts to get around her initial block, always insisting that they'd be willing to take the pictures. One of her mods was assigned to filter through her messages on her main platforms, while others had them turned off to avoid the spam.

"I... Appreciate the feedback, but I'm not comfortable-"

"It's for your fans! You say you'd do anything for them, don't you? Come on, lets go inside, I can show you how cool it'll be!"

Niri's blood runs cold feeling the keys pulled from her hands and an arm wrap around her waist, pulling her flush into this strangers body. They're trying each key so casually to try and get into her home when something thunks into the frame of the door, a large rock having whizzed past the pair of them.

"Hey, cunt, I don't think the lady wants your attention. Do me a favor and fuck off."

The figure stalking her way through the garage door isn't entirely unfamiliar to Niriol, though the pair have never met in person. Gold and white heterochromia, short hair with straight bangs, platform boots that bring her to just over 6 feet tall; that's Kheron's friend.

"Let her go, or I'll find something to bash your skull in."

The cold confidence of Vayuya's voice sends a chill down Niri's spine and makes the blue blood pause, grip loosening just enough for her to make a break for it, running over to the tall woman's side. Vayu's hand is laid on Niri's head as she hides in an attempt to calm the terrified woman.

"Drop the keys, walk away, and don't look back."

"We were just ta-"

"You were breaking into her home. Don't think your shrill voice couldn't be heard outside. Get lost."

They fumble for an excuse, not finding one that she seems to even entertain, they chuck the keys at Vayu before running past her; despite the keys being thrown the gold blood takes the full impact of them to her face, barely flinching and making sure that she stays between the stranger and the terrified seadweller.

"Close the garage."

Vayu commands after the stranger clears the door, Niriol running over to the panel on the wall to do so with the gold blood close behind.

"I kept telling Kheron this would happen... You need to grow a backbone, damn it..."

She scoffs, waiting for the door to be fully closed before leaving Niri's side so she can pick up the discarded keys.

"Here. Get yourself inside and make sure everything else is locked. Windows included."

"Th... Thank you, Vayuya..."

".... Yeah."

"You should come in... The sun's nearly up."

She pauses, debating Niriol's offer and how much she dislikes being in other peoples spaces and not her own. Her place would be another 40 minute walk, and this girl could use someone who's perhaps a bit hyper paranoid to make sure her place is safe....

"Fine.... I'm gonna text Kheron, let him know what happened."

"... Do you have to?"

"Legally? No. Morally, also no, but I'm going to."

The violet blood nods not at all looking forward to the conversation that might follow Kheron finding out about all this, finally finding the right key to let the pair into her home. At least with Vayuya around Niri doubts that person will be back tonight.

#niriol #niriol writing #drabble #niriol rp #hiding the other person deeper into the tags oooooo #vayuya #vayuya rp #vayuya writing #stalking

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xadoheandterra · 25 days

Text

This is a scene for a little angst oneshot I've tilted as Heaven's Cost. It would take place in the same universe as Chain On Your Neck. It came about because, thinking logically about it, I couldn't imagine Heaven agreeing to allow Charlie to speak with Sera, let alone go to Heaven, without their being some kind of payment out of Lucifer. So this is a post episode tag to Dad Beat Dad.

I also refuse to believe this walking piece of trauma does not in fact have any sort of feelings about his once home, or his once family.

It does feature 'Azreal' as an OC, because familial / brotherly angst and betrayal is the good shit and since this is Lucifer Morningstar...I wanted to drag in something that could potentially tie to his past. I know its popular to include the main three -- Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael -- but I went with Azreal in this for a few reasons.

One: the exterminations deal with a permanent end to souls, so any an angel of death whose existence is about the placement of souls seemed to fit.

Two: I doubt Lucifer would actually want to talk to Michael, Raphael, or Gabriel if they were at any way involved in his being cast out, as I can see them as potentially having been closest before his fall. Whereas Azreal would be more of a fringe sibling.

Yes, Azreal is a bit insensitive. Yes, Azreal is an asshole. I have done this on purpose.

There is nothing about this that is otherwise religiously accurate and I don't want it to be. I'm not in this for the bible fanfiction, thank you. Not sure how many scenes this will ultimately be, but for now I have at least 3 planned.

As always, scene below cut.

The minute he was back within his palace Lucifer slumped over and pressed his hands into his face with a loud and frustrated groan. He can’t believe he said he would get Charlie a meeting with Heaven. What had he been thinking? He knows, he knows that Heaven was not going to be amenable to this. They won’t want to listen to Charlie, to what she wanted, to what she had to propose. They never wanted to listen, before. They weren’t going to listen, now. Lucifer dug his fingers into his hair and tried to breathe. He had promised Charlie that he would get her an audience with Heaven, which meant Lucifer had to get her an audience with Heaven. His hands shook as he stumbled his way to the nearest armchair and worked to fish out his phone from his pocket. He would have to make the call, have to reach out to someone in Heaven. His first thought had been Sera, but he knew the Head Seraphim refused to listen to him on a good day, he’d doubted she’d listen now. He ruled Adam out by sheer principle that Adam never listened, and Lucifer didn’t want to have an argument with that bag of arrogant dicks again. He’d gotten enough of that to last him more than his lifetime. With the faintest tremble to his hands Lucifer pulled out his phone from his pocket and began to thumb through his contacts. He muttered a short, “Skip, skip, oh fuck no I am not calling Michael,” as he went through his various contacts in Heaven. He wasn’t even sure why he had half these numbers, he never talked to any of them really aside from Sera. He couldn’t remember when he put them in his phone, but he had an idea on who had. He stopped of a contact labeled ‘whiny bitchface’ and grimaced. He would be his best chance. He was the only one out of all his brothers that Lucifer bothered to actually talk to. Not that Lucifer actually had a choice in talking to this brother. He sighed heavily and hit the call button, and then tapped the speaker button and tossed the phone onto the coffee table. As it rang he summoned some cider and a glass and poured himself more than a healthy glass full. Lucifer knocked it back and waited for the phone to pick up. He wasn’t disappointed, even if it did take far too many rings for his comfort. “Lucy! Baby bro! You never call, you never write--how ya been?” Lucifer sighed heavily and grumbled, “Shut up Azreal,” as he massaged between his eyes. “Ahaha, make me, bitch.” “Try me, pissbaby,” Lucifer drawled back. Azreal burst out into laughter of the phone, complete mad cackling interspaced with the occasional wheeze and goose honking that Lucifer long expected.

“Ah, baby brother, you never cease to entertain!” Azreal cackled lightly. “But seriously, you don’t call Lucy. What’s up? Miss me already? It’s only been a few months!” Lucifer groaned and pressed his glass against his forehead as he closed his eyes. “I don’t miss you. I’d rather never see your face again if I’m going to be honest.” “You always were so serious about that, just like a heart attack, weren’t you brother?” “Azreal, can you listen please?” Lucifer couldn’t keep the faint whine from his voice as he just held the glass against his head and hoped the building migraine that always came from talking to Azreal of all angels would just stop brewing. For a long moment Azreal went silent on the other end of the line. His voice was much softer when he finally did speak up. “You are serious.” “Yes, Azreal. Can I speak, now?” Lucifer groaned heavily and bowed himself almost completely in half. He tapped the glass against his head and waited for Azreal to agree to let him talk. Once he heard Azreal agree, he sighed heavily. “I need you to set up a meet with Sera.” Azreal laughed, and Lucifer gnashed his teeth at the burning anger that swept through him. “I’m not joking, Azreal!” The laughter cut off. “Why didn’t you just call Sera, then? I’m sure she’d be sooooo happy to talk to you at the Embassy.” “Not here. Heaven.” “Haha! No.” Lucifer sucked in a breath at the sharp cut off. “You know you are not allowed back here, Lucy. You are bound there for the rest of eternity, a prison of your own making just as Father ordered.” Lucifer breathed deep to calm himself as he said, “I know.” “Then why bother even asking when you know the answer already?” Lucifer thought to Charlie, and her begging, pleading that he do this for her. He thought to her dream and the way she steadfastly defended it. He thought to the half-truths he had spoken when he promised to get her the meeting in to Heaven. He set the glass down on the table next to his phone. “It’s not for me, Azreal.”

“Well we can’t let a sinner step up in Heaven either!” Azreal pointed out. “It is not a sinner either.” “So one of the Hellborn?” Azreal questioned, skeptical. “The council won’t allow one of them in Heaven. You know the Ars Goetia would be turned away immediately, as well as any Incubus, Succubus, or Deep One. Imps would be pushing it, but I also know Hell’s hierarchy Lucy.” “It is not--” Lucifer grimaced and shook his head. “It’s for my daughter, Azreal.” “Say what now?” Lucifer didn’t bother to respond to Azreal being obtuse. The angel had been in his home, he’d seen his family portraits. Lucifer looked to one in this very room that depicted himself, Lilith, and his daughter when she’d been nothing more than a round cheeked tot. Azreal was being obtuse. “Morningstar answer me. What do you mean daughter?! You should not even--you cannot--we bound you to Hell alone to prevent this!” With a heavy sigh Lucifer rolled his eyes. “I have not slept with a human, Azreal.” “Why the fuck would you sleep with a Hellborn?” “I have not slept with a Hellborn, either,” Lucifer said shortly. It was a lie. He’d slept with plenty of Hellborn. He’s been alive for ten thousand plus years, he had time to develop his tastes. There was only one child that he’s ever had, however. Lucifer had been careful to ensure he’d created no other. “Then how?!” “I was married, Azreal,” Lucifer groaned. “I am married,” Lucifer corrected softly as he fiddled with the ring on his finger. Just because they agreed to a separation did not mean that they weren’t still tied by marriage. Lilith didn’t want a divorce, not if she’d lose all her power in Hell. There was a long, long moment of silence. Then, “Ew. With her? Father, Lucy, you could do so much better.”

“Azreal…” Lucifer growled, and on the phone Azreal sighed heavily. “Fine, fine. What does your daughter want? And what’s her name? And have you told Mikey?” “Fuck Michael and fuck you if you think I’m telling him shit,” Lucifer ground out. “O-kay then, still pissy about that, got it.” Azreal let out another tinny sigh. “Right, so why the meeting then Lucy?” “Charlie--” “You named your daughter Charlie? Oh you are so stupid!” “No, I named my daughter Charlotte, you ass! She chose Charlie!” “Ooh. So she’s a dyke.” “Azreal, so help me Father….” Lucifer let the threat hang, useless as it was as he stared at his phone with red eyes and hellfire licking at his forehead. “Got it, got it! I’ll be quiet now!” Lucifer waited, and when Azreal kept his word he laid out the situation as cautiously as he could. “She’s got this…Hotel. It’s a--a safe haven for sinner’s.” A soft lie, but Lucifer doubted Azreal would care about that. “Those who want to better themselves. To get out of their vices and sins.”

“…redemption,” Azreal said, words soft. “You are talking about redemption, aren’t you?” Lucifer breathed out, heavy and tired. “I know, Azreal. I know it is a foolish dream, and one not bound in reality, but….” “Why, then? Why are you still like this?!” Azreal demanded. “Lucy!” “…but the Hotel could be a safe haven for sinner’s who aren’t--I mean, Azreal, you know there is a disproportionate amount--” “Lucifer, little bro, she won’t care.” Azreal’s words were soft as he spoke them. They were the words of a long suffering older brother who has had to watch his younger brother falter, and falter, again and again. “She won’t care.” Lucifer sighed. “…I know.” “Then why?” “…Charlie asked,” Lucifer said. “She’s…never asked me for anything, really, and she’s stubborn. She won’t learn unless she sees it for herself.” “…on a scale of an attempted rebellion to just heartbreak how bad should I anticipate the fall out of this to be?” Azreal deadpanned. Lucifer could hear the gritted teeth on the other end. “I doubt Charlie would try to rebel,” Lucifer said dryly. “She’s got more smarts in her than to pull a stunt like her old man.” “…you and I both know that rebellion was Lilith’s plot, not yours.” Lucifer dragged his hands across his face and deigned not to respond to the accusation. Azreal wasn’t wrong either way, Lilith was the one who planned the original uprising. Lucifer hadn’t wanted to bother, really. He’d made himself a home here. He’d found peace with his Father’s decision, or at least he liked to believe he had. Sure he cried himself to sleep at night, sometimes. Sure he ended up in a panic at the mention of Heaven, most days, but he’d made his peace with it. He had.

Lucifer brushed the tears out of his eyes and cursed his inability to lie to himself. “Alright,” Azreal said softly. “Alright. I’ll talk to Sera and get your little girl a meeting.” “If she proves redemption is real, Azreal…” Lucifer breathed out slowly, “I need you to ensure the Hotel will remain protected, as well as any within it who honestly seek to better themselves, from any attempt at Extermination or retaliation from Heaven.” “Lucy…you know it’s not.” “But if it was--” “I will make sure there are protections in the agreement if it proves to be true,” Azreal agreed. “You know there will be a cost, though. A major one for an agreement like this.” Lucifer closed his eyes. “I know.” “You know what she will ask.” “I do.” “Are you prepared to pay it?” Lucifer swallowed heavily. He said, weakly, “I am.” Azreal went silent. Lucifer held his breath. Then, “I will text you the time and day once I have it,” and then Azreal hung up. Lucifer wrapped his arms around himself in the silence, followed shortly by his wings, as he took in a deep and shuddering breath. He did not cry. He held himself and told himself that this was for Charlie, and he would not cry. He wouldn’t. Lucifer hated that he could not lie to himself.

#fanfic #angst fic #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer hazbin hotel #fic: heaven's cost #fic: chain on your neck

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zooophagous · 1 year

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The fatal flaw of a shared living arrangement is there's really no "getting away" while you're in it. The institute was large enough that Strauss could exist more than a city block away from Director Van Helsing- as he had gone back to using formal titles- and still occupy the same building. Despite that, their routines had considerable overlap.

Giving her space to sort her feelings wasn't easy when he could not, under pain of death or capture, actually leave her space. He made his way down the hall to Ursula's office and quietly rapped on the door.

"Come in."

"Guten abend. I have a request."

"Hello Mr. Strauss. If your request involves a library book you will have to wait until I can fetch whatever you're looking for. You're still banned from there."

"It is not that. I was wondering what I would have to do, to gain leave from the institute for an evening."

"Why are you asking me? You've already had several field trips with Artie. Ask her."

"You misunderstand. I am asking for leave to go out without the director. Alone."

"Alone?" Ursula peered at him from over her glasses. Her exaggerated raised eyebrows already showed him the answer.

"You know you aren't allowed out alone."

He fought a frown that tugged at the corners of his mouth.

"Troy is allowed out alone to visit his partner."

"Troy didn't break out, spend several days on the run in the street, maul someone and rob a pet store, Strauss. Artemis may have forgiven you for that indescretion, but I'm not about to forget it. I don't know exactly how you can make that one up to me but you haven't done so. That answer is final."

He let out a heavy sigh. No point arguing with her.

A heavy hand clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey bud. I was just about to hit the town with Sam for a bit. You wanna come?"

Troy smiled at him and then turned to Ursula. "That ok, boss?"

"If it is alright with both you and Sam, I suppose I don't care." Ursula huffed. "Both of you are going to be wearing the GPS while you're out, though. Beyond that, be home by sunrise."

"For sure, wouldn't want to bring home any deep fried vampires, eh? What say you Strauss?"

Strauss paused. He was caught off guard, but he knew this game.

"If you are quite sure I will not be spoiling your evening, I would be glad to stretch my wings a bit."

"You? Ruin an evening? Surely you jest." Troy was all smiles as he led Strauss away from Ursula's office with his hand on the vampire's back.

"Sorry to butt in like that bud, but you sounded like you needed a hand. Hope it's ok I had to come with. I won't step on your toes on purpose while we're out."

"No, it is fine. I am more worried I am stepping on yours. I was under the impression that Sam hated me."

"He's not 100% ready to make friends but I wouldn't go that far. Just be polite for the ride, once we get to the bar you can mosey off for a bit. Anything specific you want to do?"

"No, not really. I just... need some space that I cannot get here."

"I take it the talk you had with Artemis the other day didn't go so hot? You've been acting like a sad lump ever since."

"That is just the thing, I do not know how it went." He huffed, and knit his brow in frustration as they made their way to the car loading bay.

"At first it went well, then I thought it went very well, and then it fell apart without either of us even saying a word. I wonder if I hurt her feelings, or worse, harmed her in some way. But you know that manners of socializing are all puzzles to me. I cannot tell which of us, or even if either of us, is at fault."

"Sounds complicated."

"Very."

"Well, I can't fix that, but I can get you drunk. Will that help?"

"May as well. It isn't as if it's about to get any worse."

"Drunk it is then."

Troy Nabbed a set of keys and led the way to an old, beat up SUV. The notion that Troy could drive planted a tiny seed of jealousy in Strauss. He never did learn to drive. One had to be allowed outside to drive.

It was late enough in the evening now, in the dark and cold of winter, that Strauss didn't bother wearing a hood or a hat. In fact, he'd sort of forgotten to grab winter gear at all just to keep up the illusion of normalcy. Oh well. Sam was the only one who'd be around to ask questions, and he was sure he could find a way to wave him off.

The car at last pulled up to Sam's apartment. Sam himself wandered down the steps and stopped when he looked into the vehicle and saw two faces looking back out. He approached the car slowly. Strauss, despite his height, began to feel very small, and all but shrank in his seat.

"Hey Sam." Troy said with a smile as his partner climbed in and shut the door.

"Hope it's ok if we give my buddy Luther a ride into town? He doesn't have to be part of the date or anything he just can't drive."

"Guten abend, Sam." Strauss greeted him meekly. He didn't know Sam's last name (Sam declined to share any details with him) so his usual tactic of formal titles wasn't available to him. he felt very strange.

"Hey." Sam replied curtly. "I guess it's fine if he can keep his hands to himself. Is he even allowed out without supervision like this? They know he's here right?"

Sam talked as if Strauss wasn't there, talking about him and not to him. It only made him feel smaller.

"It's fine, security signed off on it. He's... medicated. Technically I'm his chaperone but I'm not following him around all night. He's just gonna have a few drinks. He's had a shit couple days, I wanted to make him feel better."

Troy spoke with an insistence in his voice that he hoped drove home how much he understood that this was awkward, but it had to happen anyway. Sam seemed to understand, though he rolled his eyes.

"Fine, it's fine. I can make nice for a little bit. I guess if anyone is going to make sure he goes out and doesn't kill anyone it may as well be someone who can handle him."

It was Strauss' turn to roll his eyes. Sam very much could not handle him, he'd already proven that much, not even when the vampire was on the brink of fainting. He'd let Sam have his bravado, though, if it kept the peace.

"I promise you I am as docile and quiet as a little church mouse. I just need to get drunk and forget my woes."

"What woes might that be?"

"Eh... I rather would not say. Suffice to say it involves a woman."

"Girl trouble? You?" Sam asked with a slight mocking tone. "I didn't think they'd let you have a girlfriend in the loony bin."

"They let Troy have you."

"Troy doesn't bite."

"No?" Strauss said with a sly grin. Troy blushed deeply and cleared his throat.

"Oh look! the bar! We don't have to keep talking about this anymore." He pulled the rusty SUV into an only slightly crooked parallel parking spot and the trio were free. Strauss was already regretting his decision. He didn't really like this bar, and the sensory overload was almost worse than being alone with his thoughts.

"I am going to walk around the block a bit before I join you."

"Oh no you ain't." Sam shook his head. "I know what you're capable of, if we're out together you're staying where I can see you."

Strauss frowned. He would begrudgingly tolerate Troy playing chaperone to him, but Sam was a much harder pill to swallow.

"I am capable of minding my own business for a few minutes."

"This says you ain't." Sam raised his arm and showed off the jagged pink line of a bite scar. Strauss set his jaw in sullen silence.

"Stop fighting for like five minutes? Please?" Troy whined and held open the door. He leaned in conspiratorially to Strauss as he entered.

"Look, wait till he has a drink or two in him then just excuse yourself to the restroom and go out, ok? Just play it cool. I know you're cool but he doesn't."

"I get it." Strauss handwaved Troy's concern away.

"Let me at least get you one drink. How about a bloody mary? eh? cuz you're a vampire? get it?"

"No."

"Dirty Shirley it is then."

The inside of the bar was loud and close. It was almost loud enough to make him forget his problems, mostly by giving him newer, more annoying problems to focus on. Troy immediately set to work fetching some social lubricant by fetching the group drinks. The cocktail for Strauss, and a pitcher of beer for him and Sam.

"Danke." Strauss sipped his drink with a stifled grimace. It was syrupy sweet, unpleasant, but the alcohol in it promised a pleasant dulling of the senses. He finished it quickly. The jukebox was playing a song he recognized as coming from a band called 'Kiss,' a band he had encountered while perusing classic rock, and one he'd decided he hated. The outing was not bringing him the peace he'd hoped for.

Troy ordered food from the bartender, who looked a bit concerned to see Strauss.

"Is he cool to be out of the hospital right now?"

"Wouldn't be here if he wasn't cool. Can you guys relax?"

Troy had his back, but Strauss knew when he wasn't wanted. Worse, his impeccable sense of hearing meant he heard every remark, no matter how quiet they thought they were being. There was, however, an out.

"I have to use the restroom, excuse me."

He pushed himself away from the bar and found himself to the dark hallway leading to both the bathroom and the kitchen. The bathroom was on his left, so he swung right, into the racket of the back room, and kept walking towards the illuminated green "EXIT" sign.

"Woah hey man you can't be back here-"

It died in his ears as he walked straight past them and into the alley behind the building. The heavy steel door swung shut and locked behind him, and he was, for a moment, free. He breathed deeply and rested his back against the spraypaint-covered wall and took in the street art.

The alley was dark and quiet and mercifully empty, though it stank of old grease. He stuck his hands into his pockets and straightened up.

"You may as well come out. There will be no better time than now."

WHUMP.

A heavy black shadow fell to the ground from the roof of the bar. Sylvain stepped into the ring of dingy light being cast from the single porch light by the bar's back door.

"Aw, I was trying to sneak up on you."

"You are not very quiet." Strauss replied with a cold sneer. "I had figured I would be able to find you in town, and I was right. What you're doing is very foolish, you know. If I can track you this easily I imagine it would be quick work for Frau Harker."

"You didn't track me. I'm the one tracking you, remember?" She smiled, showing off a sharkish row of sharp teeth.

"You seem eager to see me again, though, so I take it my little reading assignment must have gotten through to you. Did you find it illuminating?"

"Mostly I found it very sad. Was this all some sort of attempt to gain my sympathy?"

"More of an attempt to warn you."

"Warn me of what?"

"Oh come on, you can't be that dense. You already know they're lying to you, and you've already seen that they'll turn on one of their own in an instant. As soon as you outlive your usefulness they'll discard you the only way they know how."

"Is that so?" He bared his fangs at her. "Because the way I heard it, you were given more grace than you deserved even after you cut out Director Van Helsing's eye."

"Oh, she told you that little story, did she?" Sylvain mocked, and paced around him in a wide circle. Much about her was shark like, and the predatory circling only completed the illusion. As did her eyes, which were now dilated to the point of empty blackness.

"So you did rat me out to the boss lady?"

"No. Nobody knows you're here. Not because of me, anyway. I can't speak to the consequences of your own carelessness."

"Now isn't that sweet! You really kept your mouth shut this entire time? I figured you'd have blown my cover in the first fifteen minutes."

"I didn't want anyone to chase you. I was worried they would get hurt."

"I knew you weren't all dumb. You're right, they would have. Of course, now they have the opposite problem of not being at all prepared to meet me again. Don't worry so much for their safety, Strauss. You can't buy it. Not from me."

"If I cannot purchase safety I will take it."

"Try it. See how far you get. You're built like a rake. Didn't you read the medical textbook? You're sick, Strauss. You're actually probably dying. Fighting you would be like fighting a small dog."

She took a threatening step towards him. He squared his shoulders and drew himself up to his full height. He was bigger than her, for certain, older too- which usually gave an immortal being like a vampire the advantage. Her words of warning weren't lies however- he was sick. Emaciated. Sylvain had no qualms about feeding herself. If she came at him it would be over fast and not in his favor.

"Hey!"

Strauss turned his head. Sylvain's gaze followed his to see Sam coming down the alley. Strauss' hands began to tremble involuntarily.

"There you are! Did you think you could just wander off through the kitchen and nobody would tell me? Ma'am? Is this guy bothering you?"

Sylvain stared at Sam with a wide, entertained smile. "Who is this? You know him?"

"Frau Pietra, don't."

"Ma'am I'm sorry this guy isn't supposed to be away from his helper."

"Is he usually this stupid? Doesn't he know what I am? Can't he see?"

"Frau Pietra, leave him out of this, he has nothing to do with this."

"Are you coming inside or not? What the Hell are you guys doing out here?"

"Shut up." Sylvain snarled the order at Sam, who very suddenly did as he was told mid-sentence and stood standing struck silent and wide eyed.

"What are you doing to him?!"

"You know, Strauss, when a vampire loses their inhibitions, they can take control of more than just horses."

"Let him go."

"No."

"Let him go or I will force you."

"Ha!" She let out a loud, mocking laugh. "Watch this. Hey buddy." She turned to Sam with a bright smile. She waved her hand casually towards the street at the end of the alley.

"Kill yourself."

Sam took off at a dead run down the alley. Strauss bolted after him. Sylvain's hollow laughter echoed off the brick walls and died behind him. The alley was icy. He slipped once, scrambled to his feet and kept sprinting after Sam.

There were cars coming. He could hear them. The light of their headlights glinted off the ice that covered the city. Sam cleared the curb and ran into the road. Strauss jumped after him and shoved him bodily across the street and into a snowbank. He was momentarily bathed in a halo of light.

Then the vehicle struck him.

Strauss went up and over the hood of the SUV and tumbled onto the roof before finally falling into a broken heap on the road.

There were a lot of things a vampire was immune to. Through the years, Strauss had survived poisons, bullet wounds, extreme cold, toxic gases and even a couple of deadly plagues and come out nearly completely unscathed. He was not, however, wholly resilient to a concussion.

The world came through in waves. There was a lot of arguing going on, some crying too. He couldn't parse from who. Troy was there, insisting he be brought back to the Institute. "The Hospital," Troy called it. Strauss tried to raise his hand, to wave off their concerns.

"I am fine. Do not worry about me." He said. But it didn't quite come out. His mouth had somehow come disconnected from his brain. So had his hand, which lay limp on the ground. How annoying.

Troy was hovering over him, telling him to... do something? To play it cool? Play what cool? He understood the word "ambulance." He did not want to ride the ambulance. It didn't look like he'd have much of a choice.

Time felt too long and too short all at once. He was... levitating? No. Lifted into the back of an ambulance. Oh, a human ambulance. That probably wasn't good. They would ask questions. His insistence that he was ok oozed out of his mouth in a series of dull slurs. He wasn't putting on a very good "did not just get hit by a car" impression. Best to sleep it off.

So he did. He retreated deep into his dreaming. The body would heal with rest. Whatever happened now was beyond his control, and beyond his care.

#wayward souls #writing #suicide mention sort of

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daintyduck99 · 1 year

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"they always hold hands and rub it in everyone's faces, i want us to look cute too!" for whomever in the Greater Polyphantoms Polycule.

As much as Carrie loves her dad, she absolutely loathes his house parties.

He's friends with some of the snootiest big names in Hollywood, and the passive-aggressive exchanges that fly back and forth all evening always leave her exhausted and snippy. She barely gets to see her dad since he's hosting, and her old room's been converted into a yoga studio, so she's literally left with no retreat.

Needless to say, she'd rather make her excuses and meet him for brunch.

Last year had been great; she'd barely been in LA, and touring the globe was the perfect, guilt-free excuse not to come. This year, however, the Candis are taking a much needed break between albums, and her dad had made all kinds of noise on the phone about how home isn't the same without her and he hasn't seen her in so long, so she had screamed into a pillow and then promptly sucked it up.

She's glad that Reggie seems genuinely excited, at least. Flynn's more skeptical—she remembers how these parties affect Carrie from their high school days—but she'd also insisted on coming, for which Carrie is eternally grateful.

They hover in the living room, surrounded by blatant glad-handling and pungent perfumes and fake smiles, nibbling on the tiny snacks that come around on silver trays. Flynn grimaces as one particularly booming fellow laughs at his own joke.

"Not that I'm glad we were rivals for most of high school, but I could not have handled this, then. I'm still tempted to stab someone with this toothpick."

"Trust me," Carrie grits through a fake smile of her own as a well-known director makes eye contact with her, "I know the feeling. The gouda isn't worth this."

"Are you gonna eat yours?" Reggie beams as she hands it to him, and her smile defrosts into something real as he adds, "Thanks, doll. We should totally stop and get real food on our way home."

"Oh my god, please," Flynn groans, dropping her head onto Carrie's shoulder. "I need something to look forward to."

Carrie huffs a laugh, nudging Flynn with her shoulder. "You didn't have to come, babe. I could easily stab any of these soul-sucking sycophants with a toothpick myself if I really, absolutely needed to."

"This is a mutual support system, Care. That means we take turns with the stabbing and the complaining."

Reggie clutches her arm before she can respond, tilting his head toward the far side of the room.

"Hey, it's that couple who beat us to putting out a crossover hit! The one that keeps cropping up in all of those interviews!"

Ugh. He's right.

Their song isn't even that good; it's the blandest country-pop crossover she's heard in years, unlike the song Reggie and Julie worked so hard to make with Carrie. While their song still did well, it couldn't dethrone the former, which seemingly became everyone's darling overnight.

She wouldn't care so much if they weren't so smug about it, along with their alleged relationship, when they're literally just a couple of lucky newcomers.

Just…ugh.

The sooner she can say hello to her dad and they can slip out, the better.

She opens her mouth to say as much, but she's distracted by the way Reggie’s palm whispers against her bare skin as he slides his hand down her arm. She shivers a little as he slips his fingers through hers.

"Um—what—"

"They always hold hands and rub it in everyone's faces!" Reggie says sheepishly. "I want us to look cute, too!"

"We do look cute," Flynn replies with well-earned confidence, as she has, in fact, dressed them to the nines. "But I'm down. Maybe some of these assholes' heads will explode."

Most people don't believe that they're all together. They think it's some sort of strange marketing ploy, a satirical joke to keep overly invested fans from analyzing every aspect of their personal lives.

Carrie wouldn't mind shoving the truth in a few people's faces. Let them think what they want to think, even if it's just that they're messing with them.

They might as well have a little fun while they're here.

She smirks, linking hands with Flynn. The three of them wander around like that, talking and laughing and forcing pretentious jerks to get out of their way, many of whom openly gawk at them.

Little Miss Pop Newbie spills white wine all over herself rather dramatically.

It's the most fun Carrie’s had at one of her dad's parties in ages, possibly ever.

He can tell that she's not faking it when they finally find him, and she knows he was fine with all of her partners before—he's always preached free love and all that—but he looks at them with a newfound sort of fondness, like he finally sees just how good they are for her.

She holds their hands until they finally escape to the car, and lyrics are unfolding under her skin like something precious.

They're sitting in the drive thru when another idea strikes, and she smiles.

Maybe she'll call it Paper Dolls.

#the greater polyphantoms polycule #reggie x carrie x flynn #hand holding prompts #help I kinda want to write the song #ficlets with ash #julie and the phantoms

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plantfell · 1 year

Text

Just when Knives thinks he's free of the damnable Mist's tricks, he finds himself enshrouded by them once more. This time, Knives doesn't bother resisting it. Instead, he firmly strides towards whatever horrors they have planned, his fists tightly clenched at his sides. Would he see what was or what could have been? Or perhaps the Mists would torment him once again with Rem or the twisted alternate version of himself. The only way to find out is to move forward.

Between breaths, the wet suffocation of the mists gives way into the familiar dry suffocation of the deserts of No Man's Land. Knives finds himself needing to shield his eyes from the blazing sun beating down from above, and he wonders where on the planet he might be. There are several places he can think of that the Mists might send him, but when his eyes adjust he doesn't recognize his surroundings. Not that any part of the planet is particularly distinct outside of the cities. Here there was nothing for miles, except for the building Knives found himself standing by, a home by the looks of it, and something more curious.

A lone apple tree.

It and the small patch of grass at it's base stands in stark contrast to the desert around it. Barely five feet tall, and fairly pathetic in size, it bears a bounty of fruit all the same. It's a thing that shouldn't exist, and a small reminder of the resiliency of life.

More curious about the tree than the building, Knives approaches it and runs his fingers through it's leaves. A terraforming plant is the most obvious explanation for it's existence, but they usually covered great areas not just one small tree. Wondering if there might be a plant nearby he missed, Knives looks around and notices there's now a man standing between him and the house. If it wasn't for the fact that the man has black hair and wears only a tattered cloak, Knives might have been convinced he was looking in a mirror.

Not again, he thinks as his heart drops and he braces himself for a fight. His mind flashes back to Nai, and he wonders what fun and exciting ways this mirror will find to torture him. But, the mirror doesn't move. It just gives Knives a small, sympathetic smile.

"Aren't you tired?" it asks.

After everything he's experienced in the Mists, Knives is certain this must be some sort of trick. A riddle where the punishment for a wrong answer and the reward for the right one are both pain. Knives labors over how to answer, how to react, before he finally breaks. If there's no good outcome, then what's the point? Why try to win a rigged game?

"I'm exhausted," he breathes out in a heavy, shuddering breath.

"Has it been worth it?"

There's a pause as Knives' shoulders slump.

"I don't know."

The mirror regards Knives for a moment before deciding something, then walks towards him. Just as it comes within arm's reach, Knives' whole body tenses in preparation for whatever punishment it intends to give him, but it doesn't stop. It walks past Knives and pulls an apple from the tree and idly turns it over in it's hand.

"It hasn't," it concludes, "but he lives."

Knives twists to look at the mirror as he moves to speak, but instead he's hit with a wave of anguish that makes his tongue feel like a lead weight in his mouth. He doesn't need to be told what the look of resigned regret on the mirror's face means, and he realizes that everything has come full circle.

This is my future.

The conclusion echoes in Knives' mind. It's not worth it. It's not worth it. None of it ever was, nor would it ever have been. From as far back as the moment that Rem slipped through his fingers, the price far exceeded anything Knives intended to pay. It's a truth he always knew, but one he desperately buried deep, deep within his soul.

The Fall wasn't just about him and Vash, it was about them. It was about giving the three of them and his sisters a home safe from the horrors of humanity, but it fell apart almost immediately. Excuses were slapped over the cracks like duct tape. Rem was flawed. Vash was sick. The problem was never Knives or his plan. It couldn't be. He'd sacrificed so much, and the weight of accepting that it was all for nothing was far too heavy for him to bare.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asks, his voice cracking with emotion.

The mirror doesn't give an immediate answer. It turns the apple over in it's hands once, then twice, before turning to fully face Knives. It looks him in the eyes, and holds out the apple.

"Take care of him."

Knives reaches out for the apple with a lightly trembling hand, and as he takes it the scene begins to dissolve back into a swirl of mist. First the sand and heat, then the house, the tree, his mirror. Finally, the apple blows away to be replaced by a dot of warm liquid in the palm of his hand.

It's then that Knives becomes aware of the hot tears quickly soaking his cheeks. He tightly clasps his hand and presses it against his chest. It's such a simple truth, he can't help letting out a strained, wet laugh before the tears fully take over.

Take care of him.

#isola drabble #916 words #timeline wise i'll probably say this is the last thing that happens to knives re: the event #i kind of waffled on whether i wanted him to see the ending so this is a nice inbetween that gives him a bit of character development #bro i straight up had myself shedding tears writing this #why do we rp to hurt ourselves #MST: event

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undinegeist · 2 years

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i don’t want to go yet (1)

- xx - y/n - xx -

I still don’t remember quite how it happened; one moment, I was walking down the street too late, on the way back from a play or a gig or some other thing…the days had blurred together, moving too quickly; I didn’t want to go home.

That’s when I saw them, kicking a kid over and over, and fuck, I should have thought better, but before I knew it, I’d thrown my backpack at them, picked it up again, done it over and over, alternating before one of them managed to take it, cuff me, pulling my shoulders harder than he had to…I aimed at his foot and stepped as hard as I could, glad I had platform sneakers on; knew they’d hurt.

He didn’t let go, though, not that it would have made a difference; at least it made him flinch.

He threw me in the car…shoving me straight against the boy they’d been kicking, also handcuffed…I hadn’t even known they were cops.

He flinches when our shoulders collide, and I do too, reflexively…he must be so fucked up.

“Why did you do it?” His voice is a whisper, hair all over his eyes, like mine.

“I don’t know.” I really don’t; I’ve never been the type to pick a fight, want it as I might.

He flips his hair back, carefully, even as he bites his lip. “Thank you.”

“They’re assholes.”

“Yeah…but you didn’t have to.”

- xx - y/n - xx -

They throw us in the same cell, undo my cuffs first, then his, though they push him in, bastards.

I want to yell at them, pick another fight, but I bite my lip and ignore it, help him up. “Bitches.”

He finds it in himself to smirk. “I’m used to it.”

“Still. Are you okay?”

“Yeah…no worse than usual.”

His face’s a mess though; covered in blood, one of his eyes turning black already.

“At least they left your backpack.” He nods at the floor; I hadn’t even noticed. “Got anything useful in there?”

“No knives, if that’s what you mean. I wish, though.”

“They’d have taken them if you did, probably charged you.”

“How do you know they won’t?”

“For being hit with a backpack? Nah...they’ll let us out in the morning.”

I sigh, sit on the bench against the wall, where there’s the flimsiest cot I’ve ever had the misery of resting my ass on, to start going through my bag, trying to be quiet so they don’t take it away, just in case it’s an accident…

He sits next to me, wincing; I feel another flash of rage, reach further in, hoping my jacket and backup t-shirt are still there…they are, thank fuck.

I pull the jacket out, take the shirt to the sink, realize how fun it’s gonna be to pee in front of him, hope I don’t need number two…at least we’re both in the same position as far as that goes.

“Here.” I sit back down, hold the wet shirt out to him. “For the blood.”

“Thanks.”

He takes it, eyes all strange; I look away, slip my jacket on, hope it doesn’t get cold, start to take stock of the rest of the stuff in my bag…maybe there’ll be something else that’s useful.

He flinches so suddenly, I start, drop the bag; we’re both frozen, and of course one of them comes along.

He moves quickly, hides it under the mattress, sits on top of it; something cracks, maybe my sunglasses, but that’s the last thing that matters.

“What the fuck was that?”

I can’t tell which of the guys from before it was, but I know his voice…I’m trying not to get pissed, but I want to murder him.

“Dropped my shades, officer.” He does have them, right there in his hand; I admire the tone, the way he doesn’t look scared, but fuck, I wish he wouldn’t taunt.

The cop shakes his head, walks off, mutters under his breath.

He sighs. “Fuck…that was close.”

“Did you have to taunt him?” I wish I sounded angrier than I do; the truth is, I envy him his guts.

“Maybe not, but he can’t do anything to us in here…it’s one thing for them to beat people up in the streets, where they can claim self-defense, but in here? They’ll never get away with it, even in this hellhole.”

“Wish I’d hit him harder.”

“Me too.”

We smile, a savage sort of connection, and then he goes back to wiping blood off his face, biting his lip as he goes.

I take my bag into the bathroom, sit on the toilet, and sift through the rest.

Broken sunglasses, liniment for when I rip my arms open, a second jacket, three books, a pack of wistful condoms, three crushed chocolate bars…not the worst haul.

I take the liniment, the jacket and the chocolate back to the bench, hoping the jacket will fit him; I like everything extra, but he’s at least a foot taller than me.

“Found more stuff.” I hold the jacket out to him, keep the chocolate and the liniment between us.

He slips it on while I peel open the first chocolate bar, split it in half, hand it over.

He takes it, but doesn’t bite. “Why are you being nice to me?”

“Jail bonding? I’ve never been arrested before.”

He laughs, too loudly; we freeze, but no one comes, this time.

“You’ve really never been arrested?”

“No. Boring, isn’t it?”

He shrugs. “Maybe, but there’s time to remedy that. You did pretty well tonight, if nothing else.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks...should have done more damage though.”

“Bring another three books next time.”

“Noted.”

“What are they, anyway?”

“Dorian Gray, On the Road, Lord of the Flies.”

“Cool. Have you read them?”

“Have you?”

“Yeah…what’s your favorite?”

“I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

We exchange smirks.

“On the Road.”

“Dorian Gray.”

“Hmmm. Looking to make a deal with the devil?”

“I wouldn’t mind. Looking to go on a drug-fueled roadtrip?”

He laughs. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe…maybe we could both make deals with the devil.”

“What would you want?”

“Answers. You?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Interesting…”

“Not really.”

“How come?”

“You can’t make a deal if you don’t know what you want.”

“That’s questionable.”

“More questionable than getting arrested without considering that they might call mommy?”

I wait to feel like I made a mistake, said too much, but it doesn’t happen.

“If they do, we’ll break out of here…she can’t take you away.”

“Doesn’t matter…she wouldn’t come anyway.”

I don’t know why this hurts suddenly; I wouldn’t want to see her, even if she came.

He moves closer on the bench, so we’re shoulder to shoulder. “That sucks…if it makes you feel better, mine wouldn’t either.”

- xx - y/n - xx -

We share the rest of the chocolate, take turns using the bathroom, then decide to move the cot to the floor; there isn’t enough space on the bench for both of us.

“What time do you think it is?” He yawns, lying on his back; the only way he can, ‘cause something’s wrong with his ribs…I try not to think of it.

“Can’t be earlier than midnight.”

“Feels like two seconds and two hours at the same time.”

“It’ll go faster when we fall asleep.”

“If.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Yeah…but I don’t want to go yet.”

“Why?”

“You haven’t told me your name.”

“You haven’t told me yours.”

“Why is everything a competition?”

“Give, take.”

“I’m Nikki, then.”

“Y/N.”

- xx -

(2)

#motley crue x reader #nikki sixx x reader #nikki sixx #nikki sixx fic

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