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amythedvdhoarder · 3 years

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Stockholm Syndrome - Five

Pairings: Dark!Stucky x Reader

Word count:2450

Series Summary: You would make the perfect wife for Bucky and Steve. A perfect mother to their children. They have dreamt of this, of you, for so long now. You just have no idea that they exist or how badly they want you for themselves.

Chapter Summary: The boys make good on their plans to gain her trust.

Warnings: kidnapping, noncon, swearing, drugging, angst, smut, injury detail 18+ only

A/N: Sorry for the delay.!Things are starting to get interesting. We see a softer side of Steve and our girl is confused by the feelings she may or may not be developing.

Thank you so much to @drabblewithfrannybarnes for beta readering this for me. I don’t know what I would do without the lovely Carly. ilysm hun 😘

Series Masterlist

Please read all warning carefully, do not read if any of them are triggers

The throbbing pain in your hands woke you. A sharp cry escaped your lips as you tried to bend your fingers but found the action unbearable, the noise also making you painfully aware of how sore your throat was after screaming. When you looked at your hands under the warm morning light, it was clear who had been the winner in your fight. The door whilst covered in blood, was completely undamaged. However, the swollen skin on your hands was split, caked in dried blood and covered by bruises of black and blue.

The lock on the door clicked and you winced as you sat up and attempted to pull the covers tighter around your body. Steve stepped through the door carrying a tray. He internally cursed when he saw the fear and nervousness in your eyes. Steve moved slowly to avoid scaring you further and placed the tray on the bedside table.

“I brought you some lemon and honey,” he said quietly, “figured you might need it after last night.”

You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded minutely. Your eyes flicked across to the tray and you saw a bowl of water which was giving off the slight smell of antiseptic, there were also some torn up bits of cloth and bandages.

“Those cuts could get infected if you don’t clean them. I can come back in a bit and clean up the door,” Steve looked like he wanted to say something else but stopped himself. He smiled at you and turned to leave.

Looking at the bowl again you realised what you had to do. “Steve,” your voice was so hoarse you nearly didn’t recognise it as your own. Steve stopped immediately and spun to face you, his eyebrows furrowed slightly in confusion. “I can’t move my hands, could you help me…please?”

Steve tried to hide his joy at you asking him for help. “Um yeah sure,” he made his way over to you and pointed to the space beside you on the bed. “May I?” he asked.

You nodded at him, eyes wide as you watched him sit on the edge of the bed, one leg folding under the other so that he was angled towards you.

He placed the bits of cloth into the water and swirled them around with his fingers. He wrung the excess liquid out of one and held his other hand out towards you. You dropped the covers and shuffled towards him placing your left hand in his open palm.

“Sorry Y/N but this might hurt a bit,” he dabbed your knuckles gently a couple of times making you flinch. “Sorry,” Steve murmured before carefully repeating the process, making sure that he had been over each cut a few times. “We can take a break before we do the other hand?” he offered.

You simply nodded at him and he lowered your hand to the bed and turned his attention to the tray.

“Do you want a bit of this?” he pointed at the drink.

“Please,” you almost smiled at him but stopped yourself, he was still your captor even if he was being nice.

Steve held the cup out towards you, but you hissed as you tried to hold it in your hands. “Let me,” he lifted the cup up to your lips and tilted it slightly so you could take a sip. The warm liquid soothed your throat and as he moved the cup away from your mouth his eyes locked with yours. For the first time you didn’t feel like hurling any abuse at him.

You frowned slightly as you averted your eyes. This shouldn’t be happening, you should be angry right now, he locked you in your room like a child and now you were being civil to him. You bit back your thanks and placed your other hand in Steve’s so he could clean up the mess you’d made of yourself. Steve didn’t try to make conversation but worked as quickly and carefully as he could. Every now and again you found yourself staring at his face, the way his blue eyes followed every movement of his hands or the way his face scrunched as he concentrated on a particularly deep gash. Steve could sense you were looking at him, he resisted the urge to look back at you, or cup your cheek in his hand. Bucky was right; they needed to earn your trust, especially after how he had been over the last 24 hours.

Once he was done, he stood, placing the latest bit of bloody cloth back on the tray. “They need bandaging up, but I imagine you’ll want a shower first?” You nodded at him. “Ok, well I’ll leave you to it and Buck will bandage them up later. If you need anything just shout.”

“Thanks Steve,” the words fell from your mouth before you realised what you were saying.

Steve was stunned “Uhhh no problem.” He quickly left, closing the door behind him, and broke into a big grin. That was progress. It was only the second day and you were already learning some manners, letting them take care of you.

“Fuck,” you groaned quietly as Steve shut the door behind him. You gingerly climbed from the bed and headed towards the bathroom, all the while inwardly cursing yourself for being so submissive. The bathroom was larger than the one you had in your apartment; a roll-top bath against one wall, a large walk-in shower on the other, fluffy towels folded onto a shelf near the door. In the vanity cabinet you found all your usual toiletries, not that you were completely surprised by this. This had clearly been planned for a while; it was obvious now that they had been to your apartment before taking you and probably knew more about you than anyone you’d ever met.

As you stood under the cascading shower, you didn’t notice the small camera in the wall above the shower fittings. Steve saw how you winced every time a little bit of shampoo or conditioner got into wounds on your knuckles. As Steve watched your hands trail over your body, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the tightening of his trousers. Of course, Steve had seen you naked plenty of times whilst they had been observing you, but this was different. This time, you were theirs and if things continued to progress like they had this morning, then you would soon be theirs in every sense of the word.

Deciding that he couldn’t ignore it any longer, he pulled his throbbing cock out of his sweats. As you tilted your head back to rinse your hair, Steve quickly spat on his hand and wrapped it around his length. His movements started slow as his eyes trailed up and down your curves, watching the water run down the valley between your breasts and the droplets of water stuck to the dimples at the bottom of your spine. Steve imagined it was your hand wrapped around his cock, delicate fingers gliding up and down, twisting gently over his weeping tip. It didn’t take long for him to reach the edge, his pace quickening as he devoured your naked body with his eyes. He came with a shuddering grunt, his spend spilling over his hand. It was almost as if you knew that Steve had finished because just as his cock gave its last twitch, you turned off the shower and quickly covered yourself up, inadvertently ending Steve’s private show. He sighed and got to his feet, heading to his bathroom to clean himself up.

You thought carefully about what you were going to wear, doing buttons up would have been painful and difficult considering the pulsating pain in your hands. Finally, you settled on a pair of leggings and a long sweater, pulling them on gingerly before checking over yourself in the mirror. In reality you had only been away from home for a couple of days, but you could barely recognize the person looking back at you. Your eyes, normally so bright and alert, looked sunken and defeated. You bit down on your bottom lip, the pain giving your mind some clarity. This was not going to be your life. You were going to find a way out.

Bucky was in the kitchen when you made your way downstairs, his back to you as he continued cooking.

“Morning Y/N, pancakes alright with you?” He called still not turning to face you.

“How did you know…”, you said quietly.

“What, that it was you?” he glanced back over his shoulder and grinned, “believe it or not your footsteps sound a little different to Steve’s. Plus, I can hear better than most.” He turned his attention back to the pan in front of him. “Take a seat, they’re nearly done, you want juice or coffee?”

“Coffee, but I can make it,” you offered.

Bucky shook his head. “I’m guessing you can barely move your hands right now, the last thing you should be doing is making scalding hot coffee. You’d end up in more pain than you already are.”

“Suppose that makes sense,” you shrugged, pulling out a chair and sitting down.

Bucky brought over a stack of pancakes for you topped with blueberries and lashings of maple syrup. They smelled incredible making you wonder how a trained assassin became so proficient in cooking. You watched as Bucky brought over his own plate along with 2 cups of coffee. He sat down beside you and picked up his knife and fork and began to tuck in. Your face scrunched in pain as you tried to cut up your food, a small gasp escaping your lips as you gripped the knife.

“Shit, sorry I didn’t think,” Bucky plucked the cutlery out of your hand and began to slice up your pancakes.

“I could have done that myself,” you tried to argue.

“I know you could’ve,” he humoured you. “But I can do it quicker and it means you’re not in pain.” You scowled at him briefly. “There’s nothing wrong with accepting a little bit of help. We said we were gonna take care of you, and we meant it.” Bucky pushed your plate back towards you and handed you your fork.

Weirdly enough you believed him. There was something about Bucky that made you trust him. He hadn’t shown you the same aggression and frustration Steve had shown you; he’d actually been quite caring. It was throwing you slightly and you found it difficult to feel the anger you should have felt towards him.

Bucky didn’t wait for you to start eating before returning his attention to his own meal, but he smiled a little as you took the first bite. You let out a little hum of satisfaction as a blueberry popped in your mouth.

Your eyes widened as you realised you had just made that sound out loud.

“Good?” Bucky chuckled.

“Mmmm it’s ok,” you mumbled.

“Careful,” he teased, “that nearly sounds like a compliment.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. Bucky smiled but didn’t say anything more as you both finished your breakfast in silence. After clearing the dishes, Bucky came and sat back down near you and dropped some bandages onto the table.

“Gonna have to put these on so you don’t get an infection,” he looked at you for any sign of protest.

“Ok,” you said, moving your right hand so that it was resting on the table in front of him.

Bucky unwrapped one of the bandages and picked up your hand with his flesh hand. “Keep your hand there ok?” You nodded at him. He held the end of the bandage against your skin and his metal hand began to wrap it around. The whirring sound from the plates in his arm made you jump and pull your hand away.

“Shit, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I forgot you’re not used to my arm,” he placed his metal arm on the table and looked down at it. You could see the mixture of shame and disgust on his face as he looked at it. It was impossible not to feel sorry for the super soldier at this point.

You reached out and placed your half-bandaged hand on his arm. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting the noise that’s all.”

His blue eyes flicked up and settled on yours, searching for any sign of fear. When he realised you still hadn’t removed your hand from the vibranium arm he gave a small smile. “It’s alright, suppose I’ve gotten used to it now. Do you want me to finish off or do you want to wait for Steve?”

“Can you do it Bucky?” his heart nearly did a somersault at hearing you say his name for the first time.

“Sure,” he picked your hand up again and continued carefully. Out of the corner of his eyes he noticed how your eyes followed his metal hand as it worked with a sense of curiosity. “You can ask you know?” he said quietly as he tied off the bandage on the first hand.

You bit down on your lip and frowned slightly. “How did it happen?” you spoke so quietly even Bucky nearly missed it.

He told you the story of how he lost his arm and then how he ended up with his other arm. Of course, you knew a little about it, there had been a big split in the avengers at one point because of the ex-hydra assassin but you had never truly known what the man in front of you had endured.

You reached out your hand and placed it on top of his. “I’m sorry you had to go through that, Bucky,” you felt warm tears rolling down your cheeks.

Bucky leant across and swiped away the tears with his thumb. “Hey, don’t cry. I’m alright. I’m not worth your tears ok?” he said softly. “Let’s get this other hand sorted.”

You nodded and let him work. Your mind fuzzy with all the conflicting feelings that were overwhelming you. If this were under any other circumstance you felt you really could have fallen for the man in front of you. But this wasn’t in any way normal. He had kidnapped you. Sure, he was softer than Steve, seemingly more caring but just as complicit. Bucky having finished the job, was looking at you with such adoration on his face that it nearly convinced you he meant it. You smiled back at him. Perhaps you may just be able to use this to your advantage.

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#dark!fic #dark!stucky x reader #dark!stucky x you #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #dark!bucky x reader #dark!steve x reader #dark!steve x you #dark!bucky x you #tw: kidnapping #stockholm syndrome #18+#please read the warnings carefully before reading

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musical-in-theory · 3 years

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Caught in the Crossfire

Chapter 3: Did Someone Say Rebellion?

Chapter 1: x Chapter 2: x

Wilbur fidgeted with his beanie in his hands. His fingers trailed roughly over its fabric and caught on its worn through holes. The poor piece of clothing had seen better days, but barely anyone had ever seen the man without it. Even L’manburg’s revolutionary army could tell you he wore it underneath his tricorn hat.

Now it was being wrung through his hands in worry. Dream was supposed to meet with him hours ago, but the masked man was nowhere to be seen. He needed to get back to Tommy. They only really had each other, despite having the equivalent of a god on their side. Wilbur trusted Tommy with a lot, but Tommy had already shown that he couldn’t be trusted with his own safety. Ever since he lost his second life in the duel, Wilbur hadn’t been able to completely relax while his little brother was out of sight.

Wilbur shivered and clutched at his coat. It was nearly nightfall, and Wilbur knew all too well how the cold could settle into his bones once the sun set. He made as if to turn back the way he came and start the walk back to Pogtopia when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Leaving so soon?” Dream said with a teasing lilt to his voice.

Anger blazed through his worry and frustration, or perhaps the rage was heightened by it. “Where the fuck have you been? I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but I don’t exactly have all the time in the world for you to decide I’m worth yours! So unless you’ve brought something that could make up for the two fucking hours I just spent waiting on you, I’d suggest you go back to sitting on your goddamn high horse to keep looking down on us mere fucking mortals, your Highness.” Wilbur’s shoulders heaved as he tried to breathe through his outburst.

He shook his head and put his beanie back on, steeling his expression to keep from giving away his own surprise. He worked so hard for so long to keep his emotions in check, only ever letting them out for his music. In conversations, he stayed professional, in control. He needed to be the level-headed one to his brothers’ chaos. He didn’t know what it was about Dream that allowed this control to slip away from him. It was like the green bastard could read him like a book.

Wilbur looked back up at Dream expecting to see signs of aggression or retaliation, but instead his shoulders were shaking under the force of barely contained laughter. “Wow, it’s been a while since anyone’s had the gall to yell at me like that. If it were coming from someone who actually posed a threat, I might have even been scared. It’s kinda refreshing.”

Wilbur resisted the urge to glare at him for the backhanded compliment. He kept his stare blank and his face neutral in a practiced fashion as he could hear the unsaid threat that loomed underneath the statement. I could destroy you and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

Dream cleared his throat and continued, “I do have something that could be of some value. I have an idea about our next move. As I recall, one of my most devastating moves was recruiting a spy on the inside.” Dream walked over to Wilbur and circled behind him. He placed his hands on the ex-leader’s shoulders and whispered, “As luck would have it, Schlatt is keeping quite the promising candidate close to his side. His right hand man, I believe he called him?”

Wilbur wrenched himself from Dream’s grasp and put distance between the two of them. “Tubbo? I don’t know, Dream. Eret’s situation was different. His life was already on the line with the war. It wasn’t as if he was risking anything new in that scenario. Tubbo has so much more to lose if he’s caught as a spy…” Wilbur looked away towards the direction of Manburg.

Dream put his hands up in a placating fashion and chuckled. “I get your point. I do, but he’s also your only option. Nikki is the only other one that’s shown even the slightest bit of sympathy towards your cause, but Schlatt obviously trusts her about as much as he can throw her. She’s been very… outspoken about her dislike of his administration. Tubbo can be persuaded out of his shaky allegiance to Schlatt. He’s Tommy’s best friend. You can use that.”

The thought of using Tommy and Tubbo’s friendship for his own gain sat like lead in his stomach. It was far too much to put on the kid’s shoulders. Wilbur sighed tiredly. The anger-fueled adrenaline had all but drained from his veins. “We made a deal, Dream. What you say goes. I don’t like this at all, but-” He was cut off by more laughter from the other.

“Soot, this isn’t- this isn’t an order. This is just a suggestion. Trust me, you’ll know when the time comes for me to give you an order. For now, I just want to advise you on how to get your little rebellion off the ground. You can say no, but I’d strongly advise you to reconsider.” Dream shook his head. “Just sleep on the idea. You can give me your answer the next time we meet. But you should probably head back. It’s gonna get cold soon, and we don’t have any burning flags around to warm us up.” With that, Dream turned on his heel and walked back into the forest the way he came.

Wilbur watched his retreating back for a moment before doing the same. That was the thing about Dream he hated the most; He was always able to point out the difficult truths. Wilbur despised the idea of using a child as a spy, especially when it was Tubbo. He already felt enough guilt about having him and Tommy fight in a war that he should have been able to prevent. But Dream was right about needing someone on the inside.

Wilbur shook his head and picked up his pace. He could think about that later. He needed to get back to Tommy quickly. The kid had been acting off for half a week. Anytime Wilbur would seek him out for something, he’d start fidgeting and avoiding his eyes. Tommy was nervous, and it set Wilbur on edge. Now wasn’t the time for Tommy to start keeping secrets from him. Not when it was practically just the two of them left.

His shoulders sagged in relief as he finally saw the mound of dirt that signified Pogtopia. The dirt that disguised the opening was a bit shifted out of place, but Wilbur learned early on that it was just another way to tell that Tommy had gone out and come back. He didn’t have a reason to suspect anything until he hit the stairs down into the ravine.

Two voices sounded from below. They were hushed which immediately set Wilbur on edge. His mind raced. He was terrified of the prospect that someone else had found their base and had already found Tommy. He could easily pick out his little brother’s voice despite his unusually quiet tone. Images flashed through his head of arrows raining down on his head, chasing him, piercing him, killing him, as he fled from people he used to trust. Worry that one of them had finally found the duo had his mouth filling with bile.

That’s when he heard the unmistakable baritone of the other’s voice. It froze Wilbur where he stood. It brought back far too many memories, almost all of which had been tainted by the bittersweet passage of time. He quickly shook himself out of his stupor and dashed down the rest of the stairs.

His eyes immediately focused on the shock of bright pink hair standing in the middle of the walkway. He missed the look on Tommy’s face of both fear and hope. Instead, he could only watch as the man that had been speaking with the young exile turned around to face him for the first time in years.

Technoblade had joined the game.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

4 days earlier

Techno put the last of his netherite scraps into his chest and shut the lid with a sigh. His latest trip to the nether hadn’t been as productive as usual, but that couldn’t be helped. The mobs were starting to grow restless in this world, and a small part of Techno sympathized. This had been the longest he’d ever stayed in one place since he’d parted from his family.

He cringed inwardly as he thought about the people he left behind. He never meant to be gone as long as he had been, but it seemed like the longer he was gone, the harder it was to return. More often than not, he’d just force himself to stop thinking about it or throw himself into another meaningless battle.

The relentless buzz of his communicator drew him from his thoughts. His eyes widened in surprise. It was Tommy. Years ago Phil had helped code their communicators so that they could all message each other no matter if they were all on separate worlds. Not that any of them had particularly used this feature other than Phil making sure none of them were dead.

TommyInnit: hey there bitch! wilbur needs you to come to the dream SMP land. we kinda bit off more than we can chew, and this guy schlatt went and fucked everything up. not that I don’t have everything handled and shit. being a Big Man and all. but maybe you could just stop bye and help out for a bit, yeah?

Techno snorted. He knew immediately that this was Tommy’s way of trying to brush off the fact that he needed help. He looked over the message a few more times and tried to ignore the slight sting that accompanied it being Tommy and not Wilbur that reached out. It was clear that the two of them were together, but he’d only heard from one of them.

He looked out the window. Night was beginning to fall, and Techno could see mobs already spawning. He sighed at the thought of going through the motions of getting rid of the ones that strayed just a little too close to his base. It all had become too monotonous lately.

He eyed the communicator again and smirked. Perhaps it was time for a change of pace. From what he heard of Dream’s land, a fair amount of people lived there. Plenty of people to fight, especially if Tommy was there to rile them up.

Technoblade: What’s in it for me?

It was less than a second before Tommy responded. Techno laughed as he read over the message, although deep down it worried him how desperate it felt.

TommyInnit: WOMEN

Technoblade: I guarantee you don’t know any

TommyInnit: i’ll get wilbur to spar with you again

Now, that sparked Techno’s interest. He was going to say yes anyway, but getting to fight with his twin was too good a chance to pass up. He wanted to see if Wilbur had improved any from the last time they’d seen each other. It was a question that popped up every so often when his brothers’ safety ever came across his mind.

Technoblade: You’ve got yourself a deal. I need to tie off a few loose ends here, but I’ll be there in a few days. Keep an eye out and stay safe, gremlin child.

The buzz sounded again, but Techno didn’t look. He could live without the rant about being called a child. He left his communicator on the table while he left to start gathering up the necessities for world travel.

TommyInnit: please hurry…

Thanks everyone for reading! Also thanks for being patient. Finals kicked my ass and I needed some time to focus on that. Thanks once again to @the-ruler-of-rabbits for being such a lovely beta reader! I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. I’m really excited for the next one. Wilbur and Techno get the chance to talk, and it might not go how either of them expect it to.

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#writing in theory #dream smp #dream smp fanfiction #mcyt #mcyt fanfiction #dreamwastaken #wilbur soot #villain wilbur #tommyinnit #tommy innit #technoblade #tubbo #tubbo_

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yandere-sins · 4 years

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Food

Yantober List! Feel free to participate at any point :3

Food was an interesting chapter to write, it really helped build up the story for the next two days, and I hope you’ll enjoy them as much as I do! Thanks for reading ^.^

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Who knew that there could be a time where food wasn’t appealing to you anymore.

It wasn’t like you had a serious condition. You neither ate too much nor too little, but certainly, you mostly ate for Rhys rather than yourself. Rhys cooking skills were underwhelming, so most of the time, he fetched you two take-out, convenience store food, or delivery of what you felt like having that day. You had a variety of tastes, every day something different, and he wasn’t skimpy on the money or way he had to take to fetch you your latest craving.

There was nothing to not like about food, aside from the few things you didn’t like eating. But really, eating something helped soothe your emotional distress, and it also filled you and made your body feel a bit happier than you actually were. It warmed you up on cold days, and it was a nice reward after a long, stressful one.

Still, the longer it went on, the less you liked eating. You absolutely hated it when Rhys was still feeding you, thinking it was so adorable to stuff your mouth to the brink with a big spoonful of carbs and soups. More than once, your tongue felt like burning off in slow, agonizing pain, and though you liked spitting into his face, if the food left you again, it was more likely it was from you having to cough after having to consume it roughly.

But even afterwards, you began following Rhys’s intentions, waiting for him to allow you to eat, waiting for him to give you a spoon to eat yourself. You’d always glance in his direction rather than just go for it. After a while, it became another simple habit, and you’d even do it on your trip outside of the apartment, just like your boyfriend always intended.

It was just more comfortable this way.

But ever since he took you out, you weren’t able to connect food to good emotions anymore. Perhaps it was the frustration and how much the topic of your stolen life bothered you, but now you didn’t look back fondly at the day where you had eaten out for the first time in months again. Now it was just… uninteresting.

At first, Rhys didn’t force you to eat. He’d offer you some, prepare it lovingly, fetch your favorites, but if you didn’t eat, then he’d put it in the fridge, offering it up again a bit later. But with the time, he too noticed how you barely took a bite before complaining you were full and how little you actually ate. It was the perfect amount to not fall under his radar, but with someone who watched you as intently as Rhys did, studied all your behavior, it was soon revealed that you, in fact, did not eat enough.

Before you could get up the next time, saying you were done, he grabbed you by the wrist, making you look up surprised before you slowly settled down next to you. Fetching a spoonful of rice, he smiled at you, holding it up to your face. “One more. Because it’s so delicious.”

You really didn’t want to, but there was no arguing. One haps and done. You were ready to leave again when the grip on your wrist tightened. Looking back at him, you saw another spoon waving in front of you. “Another one, for me, right, Love?”

After four spoons, you felt fed up. Not on food, but on his insistence on you eating. You couldn’t care less if it was for him or if it was good; you simply did not want to eat it. For a long time, you had suppressed your more stubborn side in favor of regaining some liberties. But you were drawing a line when he held up the fifth spoon, lips closing tightly while you shook your head.

“I don’t want to,” you told him clearly.

“But you have to, it’s dinner!”

Turning your head away, you were nothing more than a pouting child in his opinion, but by his grip on your wrist alone, he noticed you had started losing weight already. Rhys didn’t like this predicament of you refusing to eat. Had it been one meal, alright, you could have some choice every now and then. But that’s as much as he’d give you.

“Eat,” he urged you on, and you shook your head heartily, trying to make it clear to you.

“I said, eat!”

Spoon falling to the table, the curry splashing everywhere, he used both hands to get you closer again, folding down your resistance to a minimum by using his own body to hold yours. “I don’t want to! I don’t care!”

Your struggles weren’t in vain, testing his patience and how well he could hold you, but eventually, he managed to place his hand on your nose even though you clawed your fingers in his bare skin and tried to bite what you could. With his free hand, he dug into the food, proceeding to shove it into your pitiful yapping mouth and covering it quickly so you couldn’t just spit it out.

For a whole lot of time, you gave him the nastiest stare you could, smelling nothing but curry. It was a mess, the table was a mess, you were a mess. But the biggest mess undoubtedly was that maniac you once trusted. Slowly but surely, you had to give in and swallow the damn food, even though your throat was closing in on you in disgust.

It made you realize that it didn’t matter in the end. It didn’t matter if you were behaving better or not, as long as you didn’t fit the very small and compact image he had of you, Rhys would forever try to form you. You felt sick to the stomach, close to tears, and hopeless, but at least now, you found another reason for yourself to fight.

Because if you wouldn’t, Rhys would simply continue torture you into his perfect little darling. If you were honest, before that happened, it may be better to at least have tried to escape and resist him. Otherwise, you could be as good as dead too - one way or another.

However, Rhys just loved that about you too. You never entirely lost your fight, after all.

Continue

#Yantober #Yandere #Yandere Headcanons #Yandere Scenarios #Yandere Oneshot #yandere writing #yandere fanfiction #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x oc #yandere tw #Rhys #Rhys Aspen

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call-me-g-sama · 3 years

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Reader-identity crisis: is it real? *long post*

My experience of falling in love with books has not been an easy one. I always loved stories. Be it stories in books, movies, songs, dance or any form of narration, I would find myself under a spell. I love stories, that is the way it has always been.

The beginning

I read books but am not particularly drawn to them. It was in middle school that I started to read books ‘seriously’. I changed schools often because of my dad’s job. Being the A+ kid all my life, I found my position of the ‘bright student’ challenged at the new school. Most of the students there read books and one particular group of students whom I saw as my competitors in school activities have read a lot of books. They had good command over English and could weave good stories. I felt both – jealousy and loneliness. I wanted to fit in just as much as I wanted to come out at the top.

During the summer of the 7th grade, I surprisingly got selected to national level writer’s workshop along with the group of students that I wanted to befriend. I thought of it as the perfect opportunity to learn, grow and connect with others who loved stories. But I couldn’t enjoy that. I knew far too less compared to others about books and authors. I couldn’t pronounce ‘genre’ properly let alone know what it means. So, to keep me afloat I followed along with the popular choice and opinion. Harry Potter was the focus during that time. Just about everyone seemed to be reading it, watching the movies and discussing the arcs of the series. I started reading the series purely to join the discussion circle and as a bonus, I liked the story. I love the world of Hogwarts and the opportunities there. Thinking that I could finally enter this circle I read all the books simply because others were reading it too.

You must have seen what was wrong with that logic. I was forcing other’s tastes in books down my throat. Reading books was not pleasant but surprisingly it was entertaining enough to ignore the tightness in my heart. When I had to leave books for a while to focus on academics during high school, it came as a welcome break. I changed schools again so there was no longer any reason for me to continue reading what others have been reading. However, I love stories and nothing could keep me away from that. I learnt that a book I loved back in the day that I chose myself had a sequel, so, I brought it and read. Slowly, I started looking out for more reads by myself and dabbling in various genres and writing styles. It was fun! I could see why people loved it enough to forget the world around them! It was like I finally could command my ship to venture out in the sea of literature. But like any novice solitary captain despite the love for the ocean, I was scared of it. The thrill of exploration was dwarfed by the fear of exclusion.

Reader-Identity crisis

I liked reading stories that include queer themes characters, story arcs and/or romance. My bookshelf is overwhelmingly queer literature and for some reason, I couldn’t proudly display it to others or share my love for it openly.

When one’s choices are different from mainstream media, they feel lonely and scared. They are treated as outcasts if people don’t agree with their taste and subject to judgements and opinions of others. Reading may seem like a solitary hobby but readers need social community just as much as any other person. Readers tend to feel alienated too for their reading choice.

For example, Twilight. Twilight enjoys a lot of popularity. Many love the books series and movies too, to an extent. However, as observers who did not read the stories, the only reason why we see people talking about Twilight is because of how awful it is. I am guilty of being swept away by that opinion too. I thought they were uninteresting and cringy. One day when my friends and I were talking about our latest reads, the newbie reader among us, Allie, proclaimed her love for Twilight. That was one of the first series she was reading and she was loving it. I cringed inwardly at her taste. Unlike me, my seasoned-reader friend Jan, (whose extensive read shelf on Goodreads intimidates me) criticized the Twilight series and questioned the other’s taste openly. Alllie was so angry she teared up. She was not having any of our snobbish shit and made it clear that we could keep our opinions to ourselves. She is allowed to love what she loves. No reason required.

I had been in a reader-identity crisis for a while then. Unlike my friend it didn’t occur to me that I am allowed to like the books just because I do. My apprehension was not entirely unfounded. Books are a form of personal expression for both the writer and the reader. Me reading queer literature was my expression. Those stories made me feel accepted before I accepted who I am myself. Declaring openly about what I like to read seemed like I am baring myself naked in front of the world for it to pass a judgement. When I am writing this, it sounds rather dramatic but it was scary inside my head then. Scarier because I felt alone.

The talk around queer literature was so diverse I was bobbing up and down the sea of opinions. There was the scare of being accused of fetishizing gay men or being a crazy fangirl. I once in a panic said, ‘Queer literature is just like regular ones but, you know, with queer characters.’ Oh dear, I wish I could punch that past me. Queer stories are not a remix of mainstream heteronormative ones. Everything about them is different precisely because it features queer themes. The character dynamics, their relationship, the trials and tribulations are part of a queer person’s story which are nothing like a regular joe because queer people aren’t regular.

The heteronormative narrative almost made me feel guilty for being queer and later for wanting to read LGBTQIA+ stories.

A poet friend of mine who wanted to read novels asked me for recommendations so I gave her Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe. It has a poetic sadness in its prose and I thought she would like it. It was also a sneaky way for me to test how she would react if she knew that by the end of the book the two best friends would proclaim their love for each other. She returned the book a week later and simply said, ‘oh, I did not it was gay.’ That sentence felt like a slap. The fact that she needed a warning or notice beforehand made me uncomfortable. I resisted the urge to defend the book saying, ‘it wasn’t gay. They only declare like each other in the last 10 pages.’ The hell with excuses!

Around the same time, Allie asked me for books. I had Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe in my hand (I started re-reading it as a form of protest). I was not entirely sure how she would react so I read her the first chapter to see if she would want to read further. She instantly connected to the tone of the story. She excitedly asked me if she could borrow it. A week later when she returned it, she was cooing over how adorable she found the ending and how much the characters grew by the end. She embraced the story as a story. She did not put them in boxes. She embraced them as a whole. That day I had a new-found respect for her and also, I found my first real-life reading buddy.

Happy Ending (?)

I believe that my identity is not limited to answering a few questions on forms or during the discussion of sensitive topics. Who I am and what I like, are all forms of self-expression and there are times we may feel less safe or welcome for just being me. This is my story of falling in love with reading. It started as a way for me to enter a social group and since then, I found a whole new community, a part of the world that feels like home. All because I could dare to fall in love with words and the magic they hold.

#reader #identity crisis #books

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huffletiika · 7 years

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Back to you

Lutteo | kinda canon Best Friend’s Wedding AU

Ok, here is the second chapter... this is 5.8k words, so be warned (I should stop writing this bibles, seiously) Other warning: there is some mature content here. Thanks to @deliverychicafresa for giving me her opinion on said scene. What else can I say? I hope you like it, just that.

Also, tried to proofread it and gave up.

CHAPTER 2 [other chapters]

There was one thing Matteo was sure about: even if he stayed the whole afternoon in his bed trying to fall asleep he won’t be able to do so. He tried for several minutes, used all the methods he knew for it, even counting sheep, but his mind was too busy thinking about Luna to allow his body receive it’s well deserved rest. At the end, he just decided that the best he could do was call room service and ask for tea, he has been told chamomile or valerian are good to solve insomnia, but as he called and didn’t get any answer, he decided to go by himself to the cafeteria, so he put on his shoes and a jacket, and then left his room.

He knew there would be a big range of probability of crossing paths with Luna, they were at the same hotel after all, and it has been stated that their destiny was to bump into each other every time they are close enough for that to happen. Nevertheless, the last thing he was expecting to find when the elevator doors opened was her, so when he saw her standing right in front of him, he froze.

She was gorgeous, that’s the first thought that came to his mind, despite of the mess it was in that particular moment. Her hair was lighter than the last time he saw her, but it was still curly and long, falling like a waterfall over her shoulders. She was still very short, even wearing high heels, something of which he used mock about when they were younger. Her skin was looking bright, and it seemed so soft, he had to resist the urge of raising his hand a caressing her cheek; and her lips, oh God! They looked so pink and full, his mind brought back memories from when he kissed them, making him wish to be able to do it again. But it was her eyes the thing that trapped him the most. The light in her pupils, and the green tone surrounding them, made him feel hypnotized, as if there was nothing else around them.

“Matteo,” she whispered with her beautiful voice, and he felt like a thousand fireworks exploding in his chest, while coming back from his entanglement state. He thought he would never hear his name coming out from her lips ever again.

“Luna,” he replied. He had said her name to himself and to others several times during all these years, but nothing compares to being able to say it in front of her, mostly because of the soft pink that covered her cheeks as he spoke. “It’s been a long time.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“Yeah, a very long time...” She walked out from the elevator, and he turned around, following her with his sight. Oh God, this was awkward. They stayed in silence for a couple of minutes, during which she kept looking at the floor, and he hated that, because he wanted to get lost again in her eyes. “I thought– I mean, are you okay? Gastón told us that you were having some sleep, he said that you haven’t rest for a couple of days.” She broke the silence.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered, after sighing. “I’m just tired, but I can’t asleep.” This seemed to call her attention, because she looked up at him with sincere concern. Her face has always been an open book for him, and so he was glad it hasn’t changed.

“Is there something concerning you?” she asked, and he looked right into her eyes.

«Yeah, you» were the words that came to his mind, but they didn’t went out from his mouth. Instead, he just shrugged and rubbed his nape, as saying he had no idea what it could be.

“Maybe it’s just work,” she suggested, and he thought it was a safe path to follow, so he nodded.

“I guess you’re right, it might be that,” he looked at her with a soft smile. “There are so many artists and bands that have signed with Deimos that it has been hard to balance my work at the company with my own career.” That, indeed, was true.

His latest two days are just a sample of that, and he still had to check the contracts from the new acts that signed with Deimos, and approve the balance that the accountant sent him, before leaving on Tuesday to Europe, where he still had dates of his tour and press conferences. His agenda was filled with appointments, interviews and shows, and the only reason why he was there for the wedding was the fact he had made very clear he would not accept any activity during that weekend. It was his best friend wedding with his soulmate, after all. And even though, he was sure he would have to spend some time working in his laptop in between the dinner, the ceremony and the party.

It seemed like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t dare to do it, and instead bit her lower lip and looked down. “Shout,” he asked her, because he needed to know what was in her mind, more than anything, to be honest.

“I was just wondering…” she looked back at his eyes. “I mean, it came to my mind if you are happy doing all this, if you really enjoy going from one place to another nonstop, and being so busy you can’t even properly enjoy your best friend’s wedding.”

He tensed.

“I am,” he defensively said, “this has always be my dream,” he added, but deep inside his mind a small voice asked him if he was so sure about that. He decided to ignore it. He had the life he always wanted for himself: he has fame, his records get to the top of the selling lists in no time, and his concerts are always sold out. And then, there was Deimos, his label.

When years ago his father suggested him to study administration so he could create his own business the idea sounded very good, he could impulse his own career, and help others to achieve their dreams as well. Then, he started to learn more and more about the industry, and Deimos started to become in something more, something that made him feel passionate, not only because it was his way to reach his own dream, but because it made him full. But he was tired, she wasn’t the first person to mention it, he even had got to admit it to himself a couple of times, but he just didn’t know if he could do something to balance both things, so he decided to change the topic.

“How about you?” he asked. “I heard you bought the Jam & Roller.” The smile in her face told him how right he had been in bringing the topic to the conversation.

“Yeah, I did.” She nervously touched her moon and sun necklace. “After the Red Sharks disaster Vidia decided they no longer wanted a skating rink, and I didn’t want the place I love to become in something else, or being completely demolished to build an office building, so I talked with my grandpa, and he agreed with me in the fact it could be a good investment for the Benson’s company, so I bought it.” She shrugged.

“And you became the trainer of the team, am I right?” He asked, and she nodded with a bright smile. He got really proud when he heard about that, he knew how happy she would be, her passion for skating was one of the thing he loved the most about her. “Those kids are lucky,” he added, getting lost In the light of her eyes.

“Why would they?” she asked.

“Because they have the most talented coach ever, that’s why. I would do anything to go back there and see you skate… or skate with you,” he replied, and she blushed.

And then again, they became silent.

He looked at her without knowing what to say or do next, maybe he had let himself go too much, maybe he made her uncomfortable, and as much as he loves to see her getting embarrassed by his comments, he knew teasing her wasn’t the best he could do when he is walking over thin ice. Again, she was the one who broke the silence.

“Why?” her question confused him.

“Why what?” he asked, wishing he could read her thoughts.

“Why did you stop going there? To the Jam & Roller, I mean,” she said. “I know you said it was because you didn't have time, that you had too many things in your mind as you were studying two majors, but I can understand you leaving the team because of that, not to stop going to a place that was so important to you, and so I was wondering if… if there was another reason.”

He sighed, without knowing how to answer her question. How could he explain her how he felt when, after the competition in Cancun, he went to the beach looking for her, determined to tell her what he felt, and to explain her how sorry he was for all the stupid things he did that teared them apart, just to find her hugging Simon? Now he knows how wrong he was for thinking there was something more between them, mostly because his own insecurities drove him to jump into stupid conclusions, and even more stupid actions. But at the time, he just thought the worst, and left the beach with a broken heart. How could he tell her how hard it had become to see her every day, to hear her voice, to skate with her, when he knew he didn’t deserve her, that there was no way to get her back after all the mistakes he had done? After a while, he just couldn’t stand it anymore, and so he just stopped going, using how busy he was as an excuse. It was only after a few years that he got to talk with Nina, and then with Simon (he still doesn’t understand why the guy was snice with him that day), and knew how wrong he had been. But again, it was late, and he didn’t want to provoke tension between her and her friends, so he asked them not to speak on his behalf.

That, of course, didn’t stop Gastón and Nina from trying to make them meet every time he was in Buenos Aires, but when she excused herself from going for the third time he understood the message loud and clear: she didn’t want to see him. And so, he lost any hope, and decided to continue with his own life.

But she wanted explanations in that moment, and he was tired of keeping all that for himself, so he just looked right straight to her eyes, and took a step closer to her.

“Do you really want to know it?” he asked first, because he needed to know that she wanted to hear everything he had to tell her.

She swallowed, looking back at his eyes.

“I do,” she answered, and they were so close he could feel her breath brushing his face. “I want you to tell me the truth.”

He took a deep breath, he was shaking, and that was something that didn’t happen to him regularity, not even before going to a stage to sing in from of thousands of people. In that exact moment it felt like if time had frozen, she was there looking at him after so long, and he was there trying to hold himself from taking her face in his hands and kiss her. He couldn’t do that, not yet, he needed to tell her everything, he needed to say how sorry he was about everything, and he needed her to forgive him before allowing himself to taste her lips again.

“It was you, you were the reason wh–” his words got interrupted when her phone rang, and just as if both of them had woken up from some kind of trance, they flinched. She took her phone out and looked at the screen, taking a step back, putting some distance between them.

“It’s Nina, I… I was in my way to her room,” she told him. “She is waiting for me with Jim and Yam, and I shouldn’t make them wait for me any longer.” She explained, and he nodded.

“Yeah, and I was going to look for something that could help me to sleep,” he said, seeming to be disappointed. “So, I guess we could talk later.” He looked at her, waiting for her response, and she just nodded. He took a deep breath. “See you at the dinner?” he asked, while calling back the elevator.

“See you at the dinner,” she responded, before walking to her friend’s room.

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on, Luna?” Jim’s voice took her out from her thoughts, making her jump, and look at her three friends with confusion.

She has been in the moon (more than usual, it that was possible) all the time she had been in the room, almost acting like a zombie, answering to her friends only with monosyllables, and doing everything mechanically. But she just couldn’t take out of her mind the fact that she saw Matteo, and their conversation, because she was sure she was ready to hear whatever reason he had to stop going to the roller, but hearing that she was that reason made her feel terrible. Was he so mad at her that he just stopped doing something he loved, as going to the roller, just so he wouldn’t have to see her again? She knew he was mad at her at the time, but she didn’t know it had been that much to stop going to the Roller.

“What do you mean?” she asked to her friend, pretending everything was fine.

“You are kind of off this afternoon” it was Yam the one who talked this time, one of her twin daughters was on her lap, playing with the blond curl that she got to reach, as the other one was sleeping in Nina’s bed.

Ramiro had offered to take care of them while Yam was in Nina’s room helping her to get ready for the dinner, as they had sent the girl who traveled with them to take care of the twins to buy some things they had forgotten in the town, but Yam told him to go to the bar and enjoy with his ex-classmates and the rest of the guys, as she was sure the girls wouldn’t matter her taking the little girls with her. And she was right, they loved the little twins, they were overly adorable.

“Very off, indeed.” Jim corrected her best friend.

“The girls are right, It’s like you saw a ghost or…” Nina interrupted herself and, surprised, she put her hand over her mouth. “You saw him! Oh my God, you saw Matteo.” It wasn’t even a question, and Luna didn’t have a way to contradict her, so she nodded.

“I didn’t only see him, I talked with him,” she answered, and the only reason why Jim and Yam didn’t scream was not to wake the sleeping baby. That didn’t stop them from jumping in their places, though. Luna sighed. “But it was a disaster, so stop fangirling,” she added, with a grimace.

The three girls looked at her with concern.

“What happened?” Nina asked, taking her hand.

Luna sighed.

“It was going fine, we were talking about our lives, work… those kind of things, you know? But then I was stupid and asked him why he stopped going to the Jam & Roller years ago, and I don’t know what I was expecting him to say, but then he told me that it was because of me, and–” she sobbed. “Did he hate me that much to do that?” Jim handed her napkin, looking at her with concern. She felt stupid for crying when it had happened long ago, but it hurt like a re-opened wound.

“He only told you that? That it had been because of you?” Nina asked. “Without any further explanation?” Luna bit her lip, and nodded.

“In that moment your message came, and I… I used it as an excuse to run away,” she explained. “But, what did you want me to do? I couldn’t stay there and listen to him saying how much he hated me, how he stopped doing what he liked just so he wouldn’t see my face again.” That would have destroyed her.

“I agree, what an idiot.” Jim said, and Nina sighed.

“You should have heard the whole story before jumping into conclusions,” she looked at her best friend, raising her eyebrows, and Luna frowned at her.

“You know something,” she accused her.

“No, I don’t,” Nina was looking suspiciously nervous, so Luna didn’t believe her for a second.

“Yes, you do,” She crossed her arms. “You know the whole truth, don’t you? Spill it!” Was her best friend hiding something from her? For how long? She better had a very good excuse for this, because if Nina knew it all and didn’t tell her, there would be problems.

With a sigh, Nina gave up.

“I know what happened,” she admitted. “Remember when I went to finish my major in Oxford and went to live with Gaston? Well, Matteo went there to visit when he was doing some promo in the UK, and stayed in our flat. And I couldn’t stop myself from asking him what had happened. I was really mad at him that I didn’t want him to stay with us, you know? But he was my boyfriend’s best friend, and Gastón convinced me that I had to give him an opportunity to explain himself.” She shrugged. “The thing is he told me the truth, but he made me promise I wouldn’t tell you because it was on him doing so, and I’m sorry, but I agree: he is the one who has to tell you.” She bit her lip. “But is not what you think, that I can tell you.” She added, finishing her makeup.

“You mean… he didn’t do it because he hate me? Or hated, anyway.” Luna asked, that’s the only thing she needed to know.

“If there’s one thing I’m one hundred percent sure, Luna, is that Matteo Balsano could never hate you.” Nina replied, and then there was a chorus of «awws» starring Jim and Yam, followed by the cry of a waking baby.

The dinner was, as expected, really nice. Matteo enjoyed it a lot, even if his sleep deprivation was giving him a hard time, making him feel as if his eyelids weighted several tons. Talking with his old friends had been very enjoyable, and knowing about their lives was a surprising delight, as he didn’t have much time to be updated with social media. For example, he had no idea that Delfi was expecting her first child with Pedro, even if the couple had made a big announcement in the Fab & Chick, which she still owned. Much less he knew that Jim had become in a very well-known choreographer, or that Ambar and Simon were re-igniting the flame of love. He knew that the couple had seen each other from time to time, but not that they were really trying it, despite the distance and their jobs.

And Luna… Oh God, she was looking so radiating during the dinner. When she went to sit next to him at the table she managed to leave him speechless, even though he spent the whole time since she left him in the hallway thinking about what to say when he could see her again, and had the perfect words prepared in the tip of his tongue. Tt’s worth saying that he hasn’t slept yet.

That dress accentuated the curves of her body so perfectly that it should be illegal. Seriously, he had to drink the whole glass of water that was placed in the table in front of him all at once, and even then, he still felt thirsty. She was very surprised because of the seats arrangement, but he managed to act like he had no idea about it, as internally he was thanking his best friend for having such a great idea, and making a mental note to give him a good present for his new place with Nina, as the couple have decided they needed a little bit more of space. However, it wasn’t much that he could talk to Luna being at the table, as most of their friends were around, taking turns to interrupt them. He really wanted to finish that conversation they were having in the afternoon next to the elevator, he didn’t want there to be a misunderstanding, something he knew that could happen if he didn’t tell her the whole story of why he had avoided her.

He tried asking her to go somewhere else so they could talk alone, and she even accepted, but then the speeches started and they couldn’t leave the place. Then, when the speeches finished, he tried again, but Jim and Yam came and took her away from his side. Something about her maid of honor duties, he got to catch from the conversation, as he mentally hit the table with his fist… or his head, preferably. He didn’t see her for the rest of the dinner, so as it finished he felt disappointed, and wished he could at least just go to his room and finally get some sleep, but he wouldn’t even have that granted either.

They didn’t get to do a proper stag party for Gaston, mostly because of the difficulties of coordinating all of their agendas, so the guys from the Jam & Roller decided to go for a couple of drinks in the bar of the hotel. He included. Matteo heard the stories his friends were telling while he absently looked at his drink, not because he wasn’t interested in the things they were saying, he really was, but tiredness and certain girl didn’t allow him to pay attention.

“And, as you can see, our dear astronaut has left us for his new mission to the moon,” Gaston’s voice, and the laughter of the guys, made him abandon his thoughts and look back at them.

“What?” he asked with confusion, causing even more laughter.

“Oh my God! You really were at the moon, didn’t you?” his best friend patted his shoulder, and he rolled his eyes.

“No, I wasn’t.” He replied. The least he wanted to do that night was to discuss his failed attempts to talk with Luna, much less with all the guys there, Simon included. Even if all rivalry with the guy was long gone, he didn’t feel very comfortable talking about Luna with said girl’s best friend, or with anyone… to be honest. “I’m just tired.” Half the truth would work.

“I thought you slept in the afternoon,” his best friend seemed worried. “Go to sleep, Matteo. You don’t have to stay here with us, we still have tomorrow.” He looked back at his friend, a grin growing on his lips.

“Tomorrow you will be a married man, bro,” he replied, as if it was the most logical argument for him to stay in that improvised stag party. In his mind, it was.

“And this married man will need his best man to be able to stay awake as he stands beside him in the altar, so I’d rather see you going to your room right now.” Gaston crossed his arms, he wasn’t going to accept anything but his surrender. He sighed.

“At least, let me finish my drink,” he said, showing him his cup. “Meanwhile, you can continue to interrogate Simon about his trip with the blondie. As I heard, he hasn’t tell us their destination.” He toasted in his direction.

“And I won’t,” Simon replied.

“Oh, come on… spill it!” Ramiro intervened.

“He hasn’t even tell Nico and me, and we are his bandmates,” Pedro talked. “What makes you think he's going to tell you?” he made a grimace, before taking a sip of his drink.

“That tomorrow is my wedding, and that some gossip could be a really nice wedding present,” Gastón replied, making everybody laugh.

“In that case, I would want the very expensive present that I already gave you back,” Simon raised his eyebrows. “However, I don’t think your future wife would agree.”

Gaston swore, and Matteo had to recognize that the guitarist had done an amazing job defeating his best friend, achieving something that he thought was almost impossible. He stayed with them for a while, but when he finished his drink he didn’t have any other excuse to stay longer, so he just left the guys in the bar and headed towards his room.

He saw her as soon as he left the elevator and started to walk towards his room. She was in the hallway, leaning against the wall next to the door of his room, still wearing that wonderful dress she had at the dinner, but this time her hair was falling in waves over her shoulders, instead of the styled bun she had before. To be honest, he preferred it this way.

“Are you waiting for me, Chica Delivery?” he teased, as he reached his room’s door.

“You told me you wanted to talk, Chico Fresa,” she replied, taking her back off the wall. He couldn’t help but smile at that moment, he thought he would never hear her calling him like that ever again, and doing it made him feel like time hasn’t passed by.

“How long have you been here?” if he knew that she was waiting for him in his room, he would have listened to his friend, and had gone there earlier.

“Not much,” she answered. “I was in Nina’s room, we were talking about– you know, the kind of things you talk with your best friend the night before of her wedding,” she bit her lower lip. “And well, Gaston sent her a message about you coming up to your room, and Nina convinced me to come and finish our conversation.” She nervously interlaced her own fingers. “Unless, you know, you are too tired. In that case we can talk tomorrow… I guess.” Matteo was asking himself if he was imagining all this.

“So, are you telling me our best friends conspired together to bring us together?” he laughed. “That’s totally something they would do, yeah.” He can imagine Gaston and Nina spending hours trying to elaborate a plan so Lutteo could rise again. His best friend always called himself the captain of the ship, and fought anyone who ever dared to steal his place.

Luna laughed as well.

“Well, she suggested me to come, but I wouldn’t have done it if I didn’t really want to,” she smiled at him, and it felt like if a warm wave ran over his chest. “I really want to know the truth.” He wanted to touch her in that exact moment, he needed to feel the softness of her skin in his fingertips, and hold her in his arms. But he restrained himself, and instead he took the key of his room from the pocket of his suit.

“Then, we should go inside… I mean, I don’t think we should talk about this in the middle of hallway,” he suggested, and she seemed to hesitate, but a couple of seconds later she nodded and followed him inside the bedroom. “Feel comfortable if you want to sit, or something.” He added, as he closed the door behind him.

“It’s okay, I’d rather stand.” She hugged herself and looked around the room, as he thanked all the gods for the fact that it was tidy. “Now, explain me how I made you stop going to the Jam & Roller, because I have never been more confused in my life.” He let a soft laugh come out from his lips, as he sat in the border of the bed, without looking away from her.

And then he told her everything, he didn’t keep any thought or detail for himself, as he needed her to understand that kid he once was, and the reason to everything he did. He was no saint, he knew that, he was also aware that he wasn’t one at present and, to be honest, that he would never be one. He made a lot of mistakes, took decisions that weren’t the best, let his insecurities lead him to say and do things that he would later regret, and as he had grown to accept that, he had also grown to accept that he was still far from being perfect, and from taking the best decision. He looked down as he told her about Cancun, about how he saw her hugging Simon, and the thoughts that came to his mind in that moment. Embarrassment wouldn’t let him see her straight to the eyes while telling her those things. He explained her how hard it was to see her every day, knowing that he had lost his chance, and how those feelings made him avoid going to the Roller.

When he finished talking he looked up at her, she was standing in the same place, as she covered her mouth with one of her hands. “I’m really sorry, Luna. I–“. His words were interrupted as she walked towards him and, taking his face with her hands, pressed her lips against his.

It took him a couple of seconds to realize that he wasn’t daydreaming because of sleep deprivation, that she was actually kissing him, so he kissed her back, taking her by her hips and making her sit on his lap. And then she moaned against his lips, sinking her fingers in his hair, as he slid his hands up to her back and deepened the kiss.

Words were not required in that moment, they longed for this for so long that they just let their feelings lead them, and take control of their actions. He spent years dreaming about kissing Luna Valente again, but now that he was finally doing it, a kiss was just not enough, he needed more, much more. He needed her, all of her, he needed to get lost in every inch of her body, and to feel her in every fiber of himself. And she seemed to read his mind, because her hands went to his shoulders, and slid the jacket of his tailored suit off them. He helped her to get rid of it, letting it fall somewhere in the floor, and then took his hands to her face, keeping her closer, as he explored the depths behind her lips.

“Matteo, I need…” she whispered, her breath filling all his senses.

“I know,” he replied, without hesitation, knowing exactly what she meant. “Me too.” He added, caressing her cheeks with his thumbs, putting their foreheads together. The need to touch, be touched, to take and give, overwhelmed him.

Tiredness had long been forgotten.

She pulled him by his tie and their lips met again, passionately, as if they had waited for longer than a minute to meet again. He slid his hands to her back again and slowly unzipped her dress, and she instinctively put herself closer to him, making their chests collide. His lips abandoned hers and ran the curve of her neck, sucking, biting, and leaving marks that later would need a lot of concealer to be covered. And she moved her head aside to give him better access to her skin, while undoing his tie, and starting to unbutton his shirt with shaking hands, until she managed to run her fingertips across his torso.

Helped by him, her dress found its way to the floor, followed by his tie and his shirt, and later on the rest of their clothes. Breathing became an issue, as it seemed like none of them could catch enough of air into their lungs, their heavy breathing being the only sound that filled the room. They rolled over the bed more than once, as he did his best not to leave any inch of her skin untouched, and as she let herself go at the overdose of sensations that crowded into her.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmured, looking down at her, his chest filled with emotions. She was looking back at him, her skin blushing in front of his eyes, her lips swollen from kissing, and her hair spread out on the pillows and her face. He gently brushed some strands from her face, his gaze still locked with hers, and he leaned to kiss her again. “I love you, Luna. I always have.” He murmured against her lips, and he felt her whole body shaking as response.

“Matteo…” she managed to say in the middle of a groan, as her body arched in search for his contact, and he couldn’t stop himself anymore. How could he? She was there, her whole body asking him for more, just as his own body was doing. With a gasp, he sank deep into her, and she let out a loud moan in his ear, surrounding him with her legs and arms, digging her nails on his back.

Then, there was no room for any coherent thought, his mind went completely off from the rest of the world, and there was only room in his mind for her. Luna, her sweet lips as their crashed into his, her hands golfing onto his back, the increasing heat of her body against his, the softness of her skin as his hands ran over it, and her voice in his ear pledging for more and more. And that’s what he did, for her he would do anything… God damn, he was hers, that’s the thought that came to his mind the second after she tensed around him, and just before he let himself go.

Nothing he had ever done in his life compared to this moment.

–

The next morning, as the daylight hits his face and wakes him up, the memories of the night before come back, and he stretches out his arm, reaching for her in the other side of the bed. But she isn’t there. Matteo lazily opens his eyes, and sat up on the bed looking for her across the room, but she is neither there, nor in the bathroom. Was it a dream? He asks to himself, was it all his imagination playing games with his sanity? That’s ridiculous, he thinks as he discards that thought. He still feels the warmth of her touch in his skin, and the sweetness of her scent in the sheets.

Confusion makes him frown, but as he puts the sheets aside, and seeks for his phone to look at the time, he convinces himself that she maybe had something to do, and didn’t want to wake him up.

#Soy Luna #Lutteo #LutteoBTY #Soy Luna Fanfic #Lutteo Fanfic #Gastina #Simbar #Pelfi #Yamiro #Gastteo #Matteo Balsano #Luna Valente #Nina Simonetti #Gaston Battan #Gaston Perida #Written by Me #DeimosAU

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gillytweed · 7 years

Text

Cat Nap

Notes: Here’s the Kitty!Diana fic I said I’d write. Took a bit longer than I expected but it’s done now. I’m thinking I might turn this into a cute mini series spanning Diana’s and Akko’s time at Luna Nova.

This is the fourth thing I’ve written for LWA so any feedback on the characterization would be fabulous.

Diana sighed as she finished up repairing the latest broken object someone had asked her to fix. If it hadn’t been right in front of her, a smashed flower box, it would have been added to the blurred stream of memories containing all the broken things she’d fixed in the last week.

The girl who had asked for assistance clapped excitedly, thanking her and gushing her gratitude. The words also became a blur, almost an exact copy of every other girls speeches to convey their thanks. So she simply smiled, feeling how plastic it was at this point, and repeated, like a cracked record, that she was happy to help.

And just as soon as the one girl left, another took her place, smiling sheepishly and giving the biggest doe eyes she could. Diana resisted the urge to huff. Honestly, did everyone’s competency just suddenly plummet over the last week. It felt like all she did now was fix others mistakes or did favours for overworked professors, when really all she wanted to do was take a nap. If she had the energy and the time she would have gladly studied or grabbed a book from the library to read, but it seemed everyone wanted something from her now.

Fixing the stiff smile back on her face, she prepared herself to follow the other girl, despite wishing she could literally disappear and rest, but suddenly someone had a grip on her arm and was tugging forcefully. She blinked in surprise as she was suddenly dragged away, heels skidding on the floor. She and her saviour? Kidnapper? Made several quick turns and was suddenly in a quiet hall void of students. Possible murderer crossed her mind as a description, but every thought quickly fled when she laid eyes on Akko, the other girl panting from hauling her away.

“Hello, Akko. What can I do for you?” She asked, tilting her head to the side in inquiry. Because why else would the other girl come to her but to ask for help, almost everyone else did. She watched as Akko held up a finger, signalling a pause, as she caught her breath. It was mildly amusing, considering she herself wasn’t nearly as exhausted from their short run, so had Akko been running beforehand? Was her issue so important that she’d sprinted across campus? Suddenly, Akko straightened, huffing one last breath before speaking.

“Whew okay, I’m good now.” Diana raised a brow, awaiting her request. “How long has it been since you’ve taken a break?” The blonde blinked, really not expecting the question.

“I’m sorry, pardon?” Akko put her hands on her hips, a serious expression on her face as she leaned closer.

“How long has it been since you took a break? I’ve seen you running around all week, and you look exhausted.” Diana wasn’t sure how to respond. No one had really asked after her well being before, or at least not that she could remember.

“I- um…” She tried to remember, she really did, but found that it was an embarrassingly long time, well over the initial week she’d first thought. “I’ve been busy.” She replied weakly, suddenly aware of Akko’s equally concerned and judging gaze.

“Even the top student needs to take a break, Diana.” She sighed, knowing Akko was right.

“If I’m being honest, I haven’t taken a break because everyone keeps asking for help. I would rest if I had the time.” She watched as the shorter girl frowned, brow furrowing as the wheels turned within her head.

“I have an idea. Do you trust me?” Diana wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. She didn’t think Akko would ever intentionally do anything cruel. The thought seemed impossible with how overwhelmingly good Akko seemed to be, however, there was always the risk of the younger girls over excitement getting the best of her and causing some form of chaos.

After a moment, she hesitantly nodded, a little nervous about what this plan might entail. She watched and took a step back as Akko pulled out her wand, her nervousness suddenly becoming concern. What exactly had she agree to?

Before she had a chance to ask, the brunette had waved her wand and a poof of smoke enveloped Diana. She couldn’t help the harsh coughs she let out, and stumbled as everything seemed to tilt. All her limbs suddenly felt too short and her torso too big. She flopped back against the wall with a thump, head spinning. It took a moment for her vision to clear and the sudden urge to throw up to calm, but when it did her eyes widened impossibly wide, staring up at Akko who was several feet taller than her and smiling down at her softly.

She didn’t have time to do anything beyond take in her new fluffy paws before Akko was scooping her into her arms, and cradling her against her chest. She let out a mewl of shock as she was manhandled, her now very feline limbs flailing. She only froze when the girl from earlier, the one who still most likely needed help, rounded the corner.

“Akko, where’d Diana go?” Diana kept quiet, not wanting to draw attention to her new state as a cat. Akko simply smiled the same sunny smile she always did as she adjusted the blonde in her arms.

“Oh, she had to run off. Someone needed something.” Diana blinked as the other girl nodded, seemingly accepting the explanation without question. Which sort of made sense, Akko Kagari was not known to be a liar.

“Alright, thanks. Cute cat by the way.” The girl’s hand darted forward, scratching behind Diana’s ears before she knew what was happening. She melted at the sensation, shivers of pleasure going down her spine. She let out a rumbling groan, laying limp in Akko’s arms. Then the sensation was gone, and she had to suppress the urge to pout her displeasure.

The girl darted down the hall, leaving the cat and girl duo to their own devices. Once she was around a corner, Diana looked up at Akko, suddenly understanding her idea. Akko grinned at her and began walking back to the main courtyard that was still very much full of girls that would no doubt want favours.

No one approached as the brunette walked by, paying her and her feline companion no mind. They simply went about their day without giving them a second glance. It was odd, but nice, being able to walk, or rather be carried, across campus and she wasn’t being accosted by students or professors needing help. She also couldn’t exactly say that the feeling of Akko gently brushing a palm over her back was unpleasant. They walked for a little while longer until Akko decided to settle under a tree in one of the smaller, less occupied courtyards, placing Diana in her lap.

The girl turned feline let her body go limp as gentle fingers brushed through her fur, softly scratching. It was relaxing, quiet, and before long she fell into a light doze, a small purr rumbling in her chest.

Thinking about it now, Akko’s idea was rather genius. Hiding in plain sight, while also being present enough that if an emergency did happen to occur she could easily go and handle it. It also let her catch up on her rest without it appearing as though she were being lazy, sleeping when she should be studying, and the gentle massage was simply a bonus. Curling tighter on Akko’s lap, she sighed, drawing a small chuckle from the younger girl.

“Relaxed?” She mewed in response, resting her chin on her paws, somehow knowing that Akko would be able to understand perfectly. “If you ever need a break, you can always ask me to help you.” Diana blinked, considering her words.

Her pride immediately told her to discard the thought, but she pushed it back so she could think logically. She was busy a great deal of the time, and it would be better for her health if she took more breaks. Besides, as a cat she could still study, she could simply ask Akko to take her to the library or put a textbook to a specific page. Really this arrangement would be rather beneficial. She’d be able to rest and work undisturbed when she needed, and honestly being around Akko wasn’t the worst thing in the world. The younger witch’s presence was actually rather calming when she wasn’t overwhelmed with excitement.

Sitting up and stretching, she let out a soft rumbling purr before she jumped up and placed her paws on Akko’s shoulders, nuzzling softly into the brunette’s chin to show her appreciation. Akko giggled cutely, bringing her hands up to scratch gently over her neck and shoulders.

“Alright, cool, just tell me whenever we need to do this again.” Diana continued to purr as she settled back down. Akko’s fingers quickly returned to their light scratching and she let her eyes slide shut.

Everything was quiet and peaceful. She flicked her ears as sounds of chatter from the bigger courtyards drifted towards them, but the noise wasn’t distracting, more like soothing white noise. A gentle breeze rustled the trees leaves, making the air the perfect temperature to simply sit and relax. The smell of fresh grass surrounded them, fresh and crisp, accompanied with a lighter sweetness from the flowerbeds nearer the academy's wall. It was relaxing, easing the stress from her body, slowly draining it away as Akko’s fingers trailed over her back. It was nice, something she’d love to repeat, but for now, all she wanted to do was nap.

Chapter two can be found here!

#LWA #LWA fic #little witch academia #Diakko #Dianakko #diana cavendish #akko kagari

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hobieheaven · 7 years

Text

Yoongi x Reader x Jimin Smut (Pt.1)

chapter one: lust

Tonight like most nights you woke up on top of the covers next to your best friend, the clattering of Seokjin in the kitchen having stirred you, followed by a loud smashing sound and Namjoon’s voice cursing “Shit!”. “Joonie!” Seokjin scolded, at the end of his tether. There were lazy footsteps and a door shutting with a creak.

You tried not to giggle, straining to still the vibrating pulsation of your ribcage as against you his breathing was steady and calm, keeping time with his unaffected heart beat. His warmth permeated through your clothes, even your toes were cozy within your socks, your legs entangled with his.

You looked at him, shifting gently and reaching out to touch the soft tendrils of his fringe, he looked so relaxed and vulnerable. You wondered how Yoongi could stay unconscious despite noise, natural disasters, literally Armageddon, what was he dreaming about, where did he go?

You’d fallen asleep listening to his iPod and talking about life, about the future, about the latest guy who’d hurt you. “Fucking prick. He doesn’t know what you’re worth, you’re worth everything Y/N-ah, do you want me to threaten him? I swear, if he comes near you again...” Yoongi had said. “No, no, no, he won’t be back, you don’t need to threaten anyone.” You’d replied, burying your face in Yoongi’s neck. “I need to threaten anyone who hurts you.” He muttered to himself into your hair.

You’d sworn to yourself it wasn’t wrong to still sleep in Yoongi’s arms when dating other guys, just like it wasn’t wrong to think of him when another guy held you, when another guy...

You turned back onto your side, burying your face into his pillow, he stirred behind you, barely awake. You felt his breath on the back of your neck, hell, maybe you were still dreaming too, you thought, until his nose and soft lips brushed your skin, sending shivers down your spine, your eyes wide like saucers.

He groaned, probably due to tiredness, you didn’t dare move, even as you felt something hard pressing into the small of your back. You stayed still, resisting the urge to move or arch. It was, big...

You shook your head. He’s a man, its normal for him to wake up like this, you told yourself, even though this was the first time you’d ever felt him push his hips against you.

You got up. No, you laughed to yourself, this is stupid, there’s no way that was for me, its friendship, he’d never want me like that, he’s just delirious.

You left him quietly, peeking around the door into the kitchen, just Seokjin and Jimin. Jimin looked up quickly as you exited Yoongi’s room, scanning your form for something, turning when he seemed satisfied. Seokjin was busy with a bubbling pot of ramyun on the stove, tendrils of steam curling into his face as he mixed homemade kimchi simultaneously, the smell made your mouth water. Jimin helped to chop onions on an adjacent work surface, his back turned to you, strange. You went to the cupboard. “Seokjin, I’m stealing a snack.” You said innocently. “Don’t eat too much, or you won’t want dinner.” He warned, smiling across at you.

You opened the cupboard, spotting a small pack of chocolates, as you moved to get them Jimin reached over you, his chest brushing your back as he took down a bowl in which to discard the onions, his ample bicep tensing as he did. You smelled the tang of his deodorant and cologne and your body immediately flushed with heat. “Sorry.” He said, smiling cheekily.

“Its, its fine.” You laughed, why was it so uneasy today? You opened the pack and threw a couple of sweets into your mouth. “Can I have one?” Jimin asked, as usual wherever food went Jimin was over someone’s shoulder anticipating bits of it like a pup. “Sure.” You said, seeing his hands still busy. You brought a chocolate up to his mouth and he opened up, taking it from your fingers. You watched with no breath in your body as his plump lips closed around the tip of your index finger, the edge of his wet tongue licking against your sensitive pad of skin as his deep, sweet eyes bored into yours without mercy.

Seokjin’s unholy clattering of utensils abruptly popped the bubble you’d both found yourselves in, you inhaled deeply, realising you no longer had any oxygen. You turned quickly, going into the living room, leaning on the door to steady yourself as you shut it. Namjoon and Tae gave you the weirdest look, as if you’d grown another head. “Are you okay?” Tae asked.

Over the ensuing weeks more and more you would find Jimin throwing himself down onto the couch next to you, his grasp lingering too long on the remote as he took it from you, gentle hands brushing your waist as he passed you in the kitchen, catching him staring at you across the table when you stayed for dinner, always in the kitchen as you left Yoongi’s room, his brows knitting together as he scanned you every time. Before long harmless frission had become secret touches, his hands on your thighs when you were alone in the living room, near kisses, breathless with your foreheads leaning together, afraid of discovery, holding hands when no-one was looking, luxuriating as his touch played with yours.

None of the Boy’s knew and if Yoongi did he didn’t seem to care, but why should he? On the contrary he seemed to be around less and less, you barely played video games or talked in his room anymore, it hurt not to know why, or what you had done, you missed him with a yearning you had never felt for a friendship before.

Every time you left Jimin had taken to finding an excuse to accompany you in the lift to the ground floor. Tonight was different though, no longer did he simply stand behind you. His hand inched beneath the fabric of your top, his warm fingertips stroking your lightly curved flesh, his solid forearm curled around your waist, pulling you against him, his smooth palm flat against the plain of your stomach, setting your core alight. “Time to get off.” He said quietly so only you could hear. “Wh-?!” You spluttered, panicking before you looked up and saw the doors opening onto the lobby. “Oh.” You sighed.

He let you go and you both exited the lift, walking to the point by the door where you usually said a quick goodbye, pretending everything was normal. “Well, bye, I guess.” You said, you knew he saw the disappointment in your eyes though you were smiling. “No.” He said, taking your hand and pulling you around a corner out of view of the front desk, backing you up against the wall. “I won’t let you go.” He whispered, his liquid gold voice becoming deeper as you’d never heard before, it almost rumbled in your chest. Without warning he claimed your mouth. His lips moved against yours and his hands cradling your face as you softened against him, reciprocating his tender kisses, allowing him to deepen them, relishing the way his breath ripped through his nostrils when you took his bottom lip between your teeth. He slipped his tongue into your mouth, moaning at the sensation of wet muscle on wet muscle, savouring each others taste.

You parted breathlessly, a small string of saliva breaking as he looked at you intensely from beneath heavy lidded eyes. “See me.” He whispered. “I am seeing you.” You said, blinking. He laughed, trying to stay quiet.

“I’ll come get you, tomorrow, 8. Wear something, elegant.” He said, a smirk in his expression. You looked him deep in his eyes, whispering. “Whatever you want...” He raised an eyebrow in response as your hand slipped away from his.

You turned, your face screwing up in a silent scream of pure unbridled joy, your fists clenched in thin air. Stumbling into the car park you wondered how you managed to walk in a straight line, your legs felt like jelly. Taking a few deep breaths you started to calm, only to lick your lips absentmindedly and get shakey tasting Jimin’s saliva on you.

Making your way home your phone started ringing loudly, echoing in the quiet streets.

The caller ID read Yoongi, so you picked up quickly. “Are you okay?” He asked before you could speak. “Wh- What? Why?” You asked, almost laughing giddily. He paused. “I just, no reason.” He said. “I’m fine, you don’t have to worry.” You said, meaning it, the trembling of your hands fading away. “I always worry. I just don’t, you know, show it...” He said quietly. At his words you suddenly felt less alone as you walked in the fluorescent darkness of street lights, it was like being home already. “You’ve been busy lately, so I thought you...” You started. “No, I just... Have a project.” He said. “I missed you.” You said unconsciously. “I.. I missed you more.” He breathed with relief, the line crackling as his breath faltered. “What’s got your mind lately? It’s like you’ve disappeared.” You said, half joking, half achingly sad. “Just, a woman.” He said, his tone deadpan. You got butterflies. “I didn’t know you were into anyone.” You said. He laughed. “I, have to go, Seokjin’s, you know. Just wanted to know you’re safe.” He said. “I know. I.. Okay, well, bye then.” You replied as he hung up.

The call bothered you as you got into your apartment, in an impossible way that you couldn’t quite name. You shrugged it off, as you threw off your coat. It didn’t matter if you’d waited for Yoongi to notice you as more than a sister, it didn’t matter that your heart had curled up and died in his arms when you knew for a fact that he had fucked other girls the same day. Seeing Jimin wasn’t betrayal, it didn’t have to mean anything, you lied to yourself, your stomach clenching painfully.

The following night you found yourself with monstrous butterflies in your abdomen, staring into the full length mirror, having spent hours perfecting your makeup. The dress you picked out clinging to your curves in all the right places, the fabric soft and cool against your skin, you barely recognised yourself. You shifted from foot to foot in your heels nervously, going through your purse again just in case you’d forgotten any essentials.

There was a firm knock at your door, making you rush through your apartment breathlessly. You held on to the handle attempting to steady yourself. You opened up, your jaw going slack as Jimin’s eyes widened. He wore a dapper black suit tapered at the waist, extenuating his wide shoulders. You’d never noticed before in such stark detail how square and masculine his jaw was. How pink his lips, how high his cheekbones. He just stared at you. “My God...” He said, as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. “W-what?” You shied away, looking down at his shiny leather boots. “You just, you look fucking beautiful.” He said, stepping towards you. He held your chin, tilting your face up to his, brushing his lips across yours.

“I, I have to lock up.” You breathed, fumbling with your keys. You turned, and as you quickly locked yourself out you felt Jimin behind you sweeping your hair away from your neck. “You won’t need that key again tonight.” He whispered, kissing the shell of your ear.

{I really hope you enjoyed the beginning of this threesome smut series, a 2nd part will be up shortly! So please anticipate what I have in store for you! 😇💖} - Admin Laura Cathrine 🎀

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theinsouciantscribbler · 5 years

Text

Not Another Vampire Romance: Chapter 3: “Wool Gathering is not about shaving Sheep.”

I felt my mood shift as I walked into his apartment complex, my mind a hundred miles away. I couldn’t stop the thoughts of my parents popping into focus in between each step I took down the dark navy hall, or the rise of a bulging pain in my throat; a throng of remembered ache that still tortured my heart each time something reminded me of them.

Even the smallest of things, like the smell of oatmeal, reminded me of my father. He would eat it everyday for breakfast with his cup of coffee before he went off to work. The sweet scent of Lillies reminded me of my mothers perfume. Sometimes, when I would walk through a department store, even the slightest whiff of a similar perfume could throw my mind into a series of flashes of her smile and cheerful voice. It would wreck every last piece of brick I had built up from the time before, the pain still new and fresh even after six years.

However, the worst of it was not that they were gone too soon, or that I didn’t get to say ‘I love you’ one last time. I knew they loved me, and they knew I loved them. I knew that their time had come, even if it was a bitter way to go. The worst was the day to day things, the small and seemingly insignificant things that made it painful. I couldn’t call my mom to tell her about my day, or ask her about hers. I couldn’t talk to my dad and ask his advice about the multitude of things he seemed to know about; what direction I should take for school, or what he thought about my latest piece of art whether it be of music or painting. I didn’t have that anymore, I couldn’t go home and know that I could find my mom in the kitchen cooking dinner for my dad when he came home from work, or find my dad working on the various projects he busied himself with on the weekend.

The worst was when I had lost everything I had tried to rebuild, the family I had fought for against every odd and it still wasn’t enough. That even after everything, I was back to where I started; alone and broken.

“Are you okay?” Grey’s words finally ripped me out of the spiral I was drowning in.

I jerked my head up and looked at him.

“Yeah, of course.” I lied. “Why?”

“You’re crying.” We had stopped right outside of his door, the number ’39’ in a tarnished bronze hanging crooked. His hand on the door knob and another reaching for my cheek. I was hesitant to let him close, finding any courage I had long gone.

Lightening fast, his hand cupped my chin, sending a tremor to surge down my spine while his thumb wiped away a tear. His skin was a bit rough, but it was real and somehow felt safe; it gave comfort when everything else caused unrest and anguish. I felt myself drawn in to his eyes that made me wild the first time I had seen them, found those brick walls tumbling from his smokey voice. When the first wall collapsed it startled me back to reality.

‘Don’t get attached.’ I warned, ‘You’ll loose everything that you love. Every time.’

I backed away from his warm, soothing hold. Even if he had just been holding my chin, my entire body felt cold now.

“I should go.” I decided, knowing that this dream would have to end eventually, so it ought to end now.

“Okay.” He seemed unaffected by my choice, which made the ache worse somehow.

“Thank you, for saving me.” I thanked, my eyes scanning his face like a piece of art. Admittedly, I was committing him to memory, every nook and cranny; every shape unique and beautiful.

“As requested, don’t mention it, if you would.” He asked again, and I couldn’t do more than nod an agreement.

I backed away slowly, wondering why the world was pulling me towards him while I fought to leave.

“Goodbye.” The words tasted bitter, acidic, even foul. I needed them out of my mouth, but I couldn’t take it back. I turned back down the hall and left, not hearing another word from him.

The moment I was outside of the building, I opened the black purse that had somehow stayed slung around my shoulder this entire escapade. I dug around recklessly, ignoring the silent, salty tears that poured into my mouth as I searched for my phone.

‘Still has power, good.’ But I didn’t feel good, only empty. I unlocked the screen with a swipe of my thumb and opened up a maps app to show me where I was.

‘Only three blocks away from the Blue Goose.’ I thought as I read the directions.

Following them quickly, I walked down the street doing my best to ignore the emptiness I felt creep up on me. It was the same before he came, before the monster had attacked. It was the same reason I had parked so far away from the bar, and why I walked through the dimly lit sidewalk last night to my motorcycle. I was lonely, desperate for it to end, but too cruel to let anyone in. I had wanted that creature, what Grey called a ‘Saecula’, to fulfill his promise. I wanted everything to end, yet even through the worst of circumstances that I face, I always ended up alive; alone, but alive.

“It’s not fair.” I mumbled bitterly, thinking of all the people that had gotten close to me, only to fall down dead like flies. I couldn’t help but wonder why did they have to die, why was it their time to go and to leave me here? Why could we not have gone together, or better yet, I had taken their place, even just to save one?

‘Why them, and not me?’ But I never got an answer.

Somehow or another, I managed to find my motorcycle still standing from the overnight sleepover in the alley and helmet still dangling on the back. I shoved the bright yellow jacket helmet over my head before I secured my phone and bag in the flip up compartment of the seat. I pulled out the keys from my pocket and made the yellow, Kawasaki Ninja hum. Revving slightly, it purred like a new born kitten under my fingers. I felt a rush of excitement every time I rode this vehicle, and up till last night, it was the only thing that had made me feel happy to be alive.

Zooming out of the alley with an unbridled speed, I zipped down the quiet Sunday morning road, taking back roads until I finally left the city and was at full speed down the country highway. The wind smacked against my visor and I felt it slip around my exposed neck and into my jacket like a violent, uninvited hand. It made my skin crawl, caused the hairs on my air to prick, and thrilled the blood coursing through my body.

Weaving along the country-side with the road, I found my head clear for once in too long a while, and wished it had lasted longer when I finally arrived home. I slowed into a gentle roll, my eyes gazing at my childhood home. It was a lovely mint green, an old craftsmen made in the early 1900’s. My parents had taken good care of it while they owned it, and when it came into my hands, I tried to keep their memory alive.

“I will miss this place.” I sighed, parking the Kawaski down the driveway.

I couldn’t afford to live here anymore, the taxes alone were too much, and after what happened two weeks ago, I needed to find a new job, and those are too few to count over here. I had a few offers, back west. I would have to leave Maine, leave the beauty of this state behind, leave all the memories I cherished to the past.

I wasn’t sure I could.

I wondered how I would ever be able to visit the graves of my parents if I moved, visit my best friend Kathrine who was two rows down from my parents and who was just a few graves over from Charolette and Clarence.

I couldn’t resist the urge a moment longer and grasped the heart locket that hung on my neck. It was made of black hills gold, the twin leaves and twin vines symbolizing what was held inside and what I had lost. I flipped open the delicate panel and gazed at the faces that stared directly back at me just like they had every morning; bright eyed and daring, ready for adventure.

My ankles gave out from under me and I crumpled down to sit on the first step that lead up to the porch and cried. I ached so deeply, felt too much too quickly; it all tore at me and ate me away. Their sapphire blue eyes, curly blonde locks that gracefully fell down their faces. Their smiles were so full of life, of hope and innocence. I clung the locket to my breast as if they were in my arms once more, directly where the scar stung the worst. A literal wound that would never heal from a bullet that had just missed my heart by centimeters. The doctor had called me lucky.

Lucky.

I hated that word so much.

When the chill in the air began nipping too harshly upon my exposed skin, I found the incomprehensible strength to rise onto my shaky legs. My fingers numbly closed the locket and let it delicately drop down and hide once more under my shirt. I turned around and looked to my home, somehow having the courage to go inside and be swarmed with the memories of the past.

I hadn’t taken more than a step inside the soft, country themed decor of my mothers design when my phone started buzzing. I felt my heart drop while an annoying thumping began to rise in my head. There could only be one of two things calling me, and both I tried to avoid at all costs. I pulled my phone to look at it buzz in my hand, and sure enough…

“Oh.” That was surprising.

I quickly slid my thumb to answer and rose the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I asked the hollow device, waiting for a reply.

“Alyra, I think it is time we talk.”

“Marcus.”

#Writing Fantasy Romance Horror Chapter3

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sxft-serve-blog · 6 years

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Underneath The Surface Chapter 2

Part 3 of the All Through The Night Series

Part 1 Part 2

Summary: Look at Jughead Jones and you might be able to guess what troubles lie underneath his skin, what causes the bags under his eyes or the occasional bruises on his skin. Look at Betty Cooper and you would never guess what she has been through or seen. You would never guess where the scars came from or how the crescent-shaped marks on her palms got there. But there’s more to what you see than most people think.

read it on ao3 here or read it below

chapters 1 2

Seven months into their relationship, and Betty Cooper had never been happier, never more content.

Now it was February, and the glistening white of the snow outside made Betty smile. She thought it was slightly coincidental. Such a beautiful night, the romantic scene you'd see in any Christmas movie, and it was Valentine's Day.

She had always known that Jughead was not one to celebrate Valentine's Day. He said it was pointless, stupid. But, here they were anyways, a date he had put together himself in his rundown little trailer, sitting in his childhood bedroom that had barely changed since he was nine. She could smell dinner cooking in the oven, and while she knew that they should be out in the living room to make sure his old stove didn't burn down the trailer, she preferred it where she was, wrapped in Jughead's arms, his comforter draped over the two of them. His room was warmer than the rest of the house, but she knew that was only because Jughead had put a miniature heater in there when the actual heater began to sputter every time he turned it on. She knew that it would be much warmer in the apartment her parents bought for her, the one that she was most likely wasting money on, but she preferred it here, it felt so much more safe and comforting. So much more like home, with the smell of cigarettes from the years that FP had lived here, old candles that Jughead had found in the Andrew's attic that Fred told him to keep.

Sometimes, she wondered if it was just her, if it was just her heart that was so set on the place that Jughead had lived for so long, or if it was like that for others. If the sense of security was something that came to everyone who came into the trailer.

Jughead moving behind her snapped her out of her thoughts, and she went to sit up when she discovered that he was just shifting closer to her, pulling her closer to his body, and she couldn't help but lean back into his warmness, relishing in the feeling. She knew that there was nothing that she would rather have in this moment, nothing more than she wanted. She was more than satisfied with just laying in his bed, wrapped in his arms, safe and content.

Then it all happened to fast.

He murmured something, low and sweet, and she asked him what he said, turning in his arms so she could see his face. A blush spread across his face, and she saw his eyes lower. Then, the words left his mouth again, soft, smooth as honey. And if it weren't for the feeling rushing to the surface, the blood suddenly boiling in her veins, the wetness in her eyes, she's sure she would have melted.

“I love you.” he had whispered to her in the darkness, on that cold February day

But things were different.

She wanted nothing more than to whisper it back.

But the other words prevented her from doing so.

And suddenly, that February day got a lot colder.

She couldn't help herself as she sat up abruptly, trying to stop the tears from leaving her eyes, trying to stop herself from saying too much. She untangled herself from his arms, and got out of his bed, nearly falling over as she rushed to stand.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to him, then repeated it louder.

She grabbed her coat and turned away, trying to ignore the bile rising in her throat and the urge to curl her hands into fists, to feel the blood trickling down her fingers.

She ran out of the door. Out into the cold. Out into old memories, old feelings that boiled up to the surface despite her attempts to stop them.

She ignored his heavy footsteps running after her, she ignored his shouts and pleas to come back. She just ran.

Into the winter snow, into the darkest days she knew.

–

She should have known from the start that it was a mistake. She shouldn't have even said yes to him, should have known from the minute he walked in that he meant no good. But, she couldn't resist his charm, his way with words. So she said yes. Yes, to the devil, and she sold her soul.

Chuck Clayton was not one to pick fights.

That was the first lie she believed about her college boyfriend. Then, he started showing up later than usual, covered in cuts and bruises. Even in the middle of the day, he'd stride into her dorm room with a busted lip or a black eye, shrug it off, tell her it was nothing. And of course, she believed him every time he told her it wouldn't happen again. Every time he would pull her in and tell her that it would stop.

But it didn't stop.

It never did stop, and Betty Cooper was just as worried the next time as the last. She knew that something was going on. But one way or another, she still always got the same answer.

It's nothing.

And at some point, she guessed, she started believing it. That, or she stopped caring. She couldn't tell which.

–

Betty knew that this much exercise after so much time of barely any was most likely unhealthy. But it also reminded her of how much she missed the burn of running. The relief it gave her brain as she tried to push back the memories of her college years. Yet, it seemed that even with the burning sensation coursing through her, she couldn't stop herself from digging her perfectly manicured nails into her palms, savoring the feeling of control, of relief.

–

The old habit of hers started in college after she had moved out and into the college dorms.

Why Riverdale had a college, she would never know, and it was a small school for how small the town was, but she was glad to be so close to home.

She had been roomed across the hall from Chuck Clayton, a new student who was obviously not from their small town. He had been sweet at first, even kind. Well-mannered, a true gentleman.

That was the second lie.

Over time, Chuck was no longer kind, sweet, and definitely nothing near gentleman-like. It started small, no longer holding the door open for her or pulling out her chair. Things that were barely noticeable. Then, they slowly progressed and went from leaving the toilet seat up to talking trash on her, not caring if she was there or not. Insulting her in the smallest ways that he knew would get under her skin. He would make comments in front of his friends that would get her flustered and annoyed all at the same time.

Ignorant quickly bloomed into something bigger, something worse.

She didn't miss the fingerprint bruises that left when he grabbed her wrist too hard or the sting of the slap that he delivered if she disagreed or argued. Then she realized, that this wasn't a phase, this wasn't something that was just happening in his life, this was his true self. This was the real Chuck, and the night that the sat at the booth at Pop's with his friends, as she stared at the door wondering if she could just make a run for it, he gripped her thigh so hard she knew that bruises would be blooming there the next day. He leaned in and whispered in her ears with so much malice in his voice, she felt shivers down her spine.

“You aren't going anywhere, baby girl.” she could feel the tears in her eyes. She was grateful nobody noticed. “Not with how much I love you, you're mine now.”

By then, the only thing that she could think, the only thing she truly knew, that whatever it was, it wasn't love that he held for her.

–

She found herself outside of the Andrew's house, but she wasn't completely sure if she had been running to her mom or to Veronica.

After a long moment, standing out in the snow, she decided and made her way to the Andrew's door, knowing that only Veronica would be there. Her latest suitors, Cheryl and Archie were both out of town, Fred and Archie were visiting Mary in New York, and Cheryl was in Greendale babysitting the twins.

Slightly reluctantly, she raised her hand to knock, the tears hot on her face, shivering and feeling broken.

As soon as Veronica opened the door and saw Betty standing there, she pulled her inside, rushing to grab a blanket and leading her to the couch. Veronica rushed around her, cursing under her breath, and once she returned she carried a steaming mug of tea, and Betty could have never felt more relieved that she had such an amazing best friend. She smiled as much as she could, grateful, and thanked Veronica. Trying to dry the tears that were cold on her cheeks. Ronnie sat beside her, wrapping her arms around her best friend and Betty could already feel the wetness returning to her eyes.

They stayed there for a while, just like that, Betty leaning into Veronica's embrace, crying until Veronica spoke up.

“Betty, how did you get here? What's wrong? Was it Jughead? I'll hunt him down and skin him, you better believe me.” she said softly, despite the seriousness in her tone, and despite her mood, Betty laughed wetly and turned to face Veronica.

“No, no it wasn't him.” she paused “Okay, so it kind of was, but it wasn't his fault... and I- I walked here. Ran, I guess.”

She didn't miss the look that crossed Veronica's face when she said that she ran to the house, and Betty knew what she was going to say next.

“From Jughead's trailer?” she asked suspiciously, and Betty's head dropped, her eyes lowering with it, and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

“Okay, Betty, why? What happened?” Veronica continued, grabbing Betty's hand gently after lifting her head so their eyes met.

Betty's voice lowered as she began to speak, she couldn't help how ashamed she felt of herself for leaving.

“He told me he loved me. And- and my brain stopped working and a bunch of old feelings came bubbling up to the surface and it reminded me so much of- I guess I just couldn't take it, I couldn't process it. I just told him I was sorry and I ran.”

Veronica listened to her speak, nodding as she listened, and she squeezed her hands lightly every time her voice faltered or a tear managed to escape her eye.

“Is this because of..?” She trailed off, knowing better than to say his name, having learned after the years of watching her best friend flinch when it came up.

–

Betty couldn't wait for Christmas break. She couldn't wait to get away from this college, to get away from him. When she got out of her last class, when her break was officially started, she nearly ran out of her dorm room with her stuff and into the car where Veronica was waiting for her. Of course, she hadn't gotten out so easy, Chuck standing at her door waiting for her when she ran to it, ready to burst through it and far from here.

“Why in such a hurry?” he asked, bitterness lacing his voice

“Home,” she replied, her eyes immediately going downcast “I promised my mom.”

He pushed her into the room, slamming the door shut with his foot behind him. His hands gripped her thigh, hard, pushing into the bruises that were already there.

“You better come back” he replied, low and menacing.

He pushed her over and she hit the ground with a thud.

“I expect you back.”

Then he kicked her in the side, causing her to groan and clutch at her abdomen, and with a cruel laugh, he left.

Her side didn't stop hurting for the rest of the day, and Veronica noticed the way she would wince with every movement.

“I'm so glad you decided to spend the break with me.” She smiled later that night when they prepared for bed.

Betty smiled back at her and bent down to get her pajamas out her bag, ignoring the way her side burned when she bent down.

“I'm glad you let me stay.” she laughed, adding 'for more than one reason' in her head. She turned to Veronica and pointed to the bathroom, hoping she didn't look to suspicious not changing in the same room as Veronica after years of changing in the same locker room and sleepovers “I'm going to go change.” she said and rushed into the bathroom before she could say anything.

When she came back out, Veronica sat on her bed, on her phone, not looking up until Betty shut the door behind her. But the view she saw was not one she expected, and she gasped when she saw her best friend's legs.

“Betty!” she exclaimed “Betty, what happened?” and when Betty gave her a questioning look, she pointed to the bruises on her legs, purple overlaying yellowish-green, blue blooming over them.

Betty grimaced at the sight and shook her head.

“I just fell,” she cringed slightly at her own lie “It's nothing.”

“Bullshit!” Veronica replied, rising off of the bed, and advancing towards her. Betty couldn't help the way she flinched as if Veronica were about to hit her. “Those are not from falling and both of us know it, Betty. Who did this?”

Betty didn't respond, she just lowered her head.

“Betty.” Veronica repeated, softer than before, but much more firm, more demanding.

Betty shook her head, not being able to stop herself from crying.

“Betty, c'mon, it's only me. It's okay, you can tell me, I won't tell a soul, I swear, but you need to tell me so I can help you.” Veronica led her over to the bed and sat her down, then sat beside her and began rubbing her back soothingly. “You can trust me, who did this, Betty?”

Betty was silent for a moment before she broke into sobs until she choked out his name.

“Chuck.” she had sobbed “It was Chuck, he's been doing this for months.”

“Your boyfriend?” Veronica asked and Betty could hear the anger that the brunette was holding back

Betty nodded

“We'll get you out of this.” Veronica soothed as the blonde cried, and Betty nodded.

Yeah, they would.

–

She nodded, and her best friend squeezed her hands again.

“Okay, what was going through your head when it happened? What were you guys doing?”

“Nothing was really going on... we were just laying in his bed when he said, and then all I could think of was the first time that- that he said it to me, the anger in his voice, and I could just feel all of these feelings all at once and I just couldn't take it V, and I... I just ran.”

Veronica nodded again.

“Okay, but before this happened, before he said it to you, how did feel about him?”

“I,” Betty's voice went softer, and she could feel her heart swell slightly, finally calm enough to think about what exactly had happened before she had been too scared to actually think about it, “I think I loved him, V. Or, I was at least falling for him.”

“And how do you feel about what he said, thinking about it now?”

A small smile crossed Betty's face.

“Relieved, happy. I feel... ecstatic. If I didn't before, I think I really do love him. Despite all the bad things that seem to surface with it, I really do think I do, V. I'm just... scared, I guess?”

“That's understandable, Betty, you've been through a lot. Just don't rush it, let it all move at its own pace.”

Betty nodded, and Veronica could see that she was anxious, ready to leave, and she could only imagine was going through Betty's mind right now.

“I'm going to give you a ride back if you want one, and there is no arguing about that, it's almost 8:30, pitch black outside, and snowing.” Betty nodded and stood, motioning for Veronica to do the same and smiling when she did. “One more thing,” Veronica added on their way to the door. “You need to tell him, B. Preferably soon, but he deserves to know. Just like Archie did.”

–

Betty had never seen Archie so outraged.

Archie Andrews had never been angrier.

Veronica had stayed true to her word, not uttering a word to anyone about the things that Chuck did, but she had guilted her into telling Archie. Just as she had with Veronica, she showed him the blooming bruise on her side from where he had kicked her, and the fingerprint-shaped bruises that littered her thighs and upper arms.

That had resulted in Archie storming about the apartment, entirely upset that he had let somebody hurt her, that she wasn't protected. That was not the first time Betty had seen Archie being so loyal, he had done it time and time again throughout the years, but she could see the distress in his eyes, the hurt, and she felt her heart swell slightly for how much her friends cared for her.

“When was the last time he did this to you?” he had asked when he had calmed down finally.

“Friday.” she responded quietly

That resulted in another fit of rage, slamming doors and kicking chairs.

Veronica held her hand through the entire time that he went through it. Assuring her it wasn't her he was mad at. Betty just nodded, trying to hold back tears.

When Archie calmed down for the final time, he knelt in front of her, his eyes full of unshed tears and sincerity.

“He won't ever hurt you again, Betty. Mark my words.”

–

Betty stood outside of the trailer, staring at the flickering light on the porch. In the snow underneath her there were two sets of footprints, showing her the Jughead had come after her, reminding her. She took a deep breath, and walked up to the door, knocking on it. When nobody answered she tried again, and then once more before opening the door and walking in. The trailer was silent, the majority of the lights turned off. She made her way to Jughead's bedroom, finding it just as empty as the rest of the house. She grabbed her phone off of the nightstand where she had left it laying when she ran out the door.

Sitting down on his bed and ignoring the cold of the house, she unlocked it and called him. When he didn't pick up the first time, she tried again and sighed in relief when he answered.

“Betty?” he asked, unsure and out of breath, it seemed.

“Yeah.” she answered, closing her eyes and laying back against his bed, gripping the blanket in her free hand. “Come home.”

That was all he needed, assuring her he was on his way, he hung up. She stayed where she was, laying in his bed, until he arrived, bursting through the front door. Almost immediately, she stood and tried to ignore the tears that were already gathering in her eyes, then made her way to him. Nearly throwing herself into his arms, she let the tears flow, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He reciprocated, pulling her into him and holding her tight.

“I'm sorry, Jug, I'm sorry.” she pulled back and cradled his head in her hands. “I love you too. So much, Juggie. I love you too.” and without another thought, he leaned in and kissed her desperately. She pulled away first, smiling and ignoring the tears that she couldn't manage to stop. “I need to explain.” she whispered to him

He nodded and led them back to his bedroom.

–

She had three weeks off of school.

She planned to use those three weeks to her advantage.

“I need to become a serpent.” she told Toni Topaz late at night her first Tuesday off.

Toni snorted and rolled her eyes

“Why? What does a northsider want with us.”

“Help.” Betty replied simply “Protection.”

“And what will we get?”

“First, another Serpent, second, one less northsider off your back. Not that I was ever on it. Third...” Betty had to stop and think, she hadn't thought this part through. “You know Archie Andrews?” she ended up asking, and Toni nodded.

“Yeah, that's one northsider we can't seem to shake off.”

“I can get him to leave you guys alone.” she said simply.

Toni nodded again “We'll think about it, Cooper.”

–

Right before the end of her break, Toni brought her back to the Whyte Wyrm and pointed at the pole.

“If you want to be a serpent, you know what you have to do.”

Betty nodded, feeling dread pooling in her gut, but she did know what she had to do.

She came back the next night.

But as soon as she was up on that stage, she felt all of her nervousness melt away.

And even though that night felt right, she would always regret that part of her initiation.

At least she had the protection she needed.

–

The two sat on his bed, knees touching and his blanket wrapped around Betty's shoulders. She took a deep breath and began.

“When I was in college, I had a boyfriend, we were together for a little over a year, my entire freshman year and part of my sophomore year, until after Christmas break of sophomore year.” she looked down and forced herself to speak again “His name was-” her voice faltered and she had to forcibly steady it “His name was Chuck Clayton. At the beginning, he was sweet, he was there for me. Then he wasn't. He wasn't anything but rude and ignorant. Then he was... he was abusive. He hit me, he insulted me, he said things that I can't forget.” she continued to look down, and he reached over and took her hand in his own, urging her to continue and fighting to keep calm. “He would grab me so hard that he would leave fingerprint-shaped bruises on me, he would kick me and slap me. He told me that I would never escape him, and to be honest, I don't think I ever would've if not for Veronica, Archie, and the Serpents.

–

“So, protection,” Toni asked, only minutes after Betty had received her Serpent jacket

Betty nodded

“I'm gonna need to know what you need help with.” Toni ended up saying, rolling her eyes and Betty nodded again, and looked up at Toni.

She shrugged the jacket off, and turned to her side, lifting her shirt slightly hesitantly and showing the bruise that Chuck had left on her. She then lifted her skirt and grabbed her water, pouring it on her leg and rubbing off the concealer that covered the bruises littered over her legs.

Toni's eyes had gone wide, and Betty was glad that there was no pity there, only anger.

“There's one more.” Betty spoke quietly “Nobody has seen this one.”

She turned all the way around again to reveal a long scar that ran down her back, only a few inches from her spine. It had long healed, but Betty could still feel the phantom pains of the glass cutting into her when Chuck had shoved her back. The sound of him mocking her as she cried, his laugh as he walked away and left her bleeding on the ground.

“I'm going to have to tell the others.” Toni said quietly “You know that right?” and Betty nodded, pulling her shirt back down and wiping away the tears in her eyes. “If you need protection, Betty, you've got it.

–

“It was really the only reason I joined the Serpents.” she told Jughead, leaning in to rest her head on his shoulder, smiling slightly as he wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her hand. But he stayed silent, too afraid what would come out if he spoke. “Toni had been with me the entire way through, she was the one who helped me turn him in.”

–

Betty did her best to stride through the campus with confidence. Her head high as Toni and Sweetpea walked with her. She walked into the office with a confident smile on her face despite the feeling in her gut, the sinking feeling that nothing would happen to him, that she'd be called an attention whore.

She requested to talk to the dean with a polite smile and reluctantly his secretary let them back. Toni and Sweetpea followed not far behind her, and as she got closer to the door, the phantom pains got worse, his laugh got louder. She did her best to ignore them and walked into the office, doing her best to smile at the dean despite the situation she was in.

“I need to talk to you about something...”

–

She could still see the deans face when she had told him, still see Chuck's face when he was walked into the office by two of the campus security, bruised and battered. She could still feel Sweetpea's protective grip on her shoulder, a constant reassurance that she was doing so many people a favor when she was told there would be a court case. She remembered how she called Veronica and Archie that night, so relieved but afraid as Toni stayed in her dorm with her for the next few weeks 'for protection' she had said, and Betty couldn't argue with her. She remembered the way Archie had told her that he had come across Chuck before he was put in jail, during Christmas break, and how he had beat the shit out of him. The way she had yelled at him for it, but deep down she felt so loved, so cared for. She remembered when she had one the court case, how Chuck had been convicted and imprisoned and put on probation, then expelled from the school.

She climbed onto Jughead's lap and buried her face into his shirt to hide the fact that she was crying again, and he ran his hand through her hair soothingly before wrapping his arms around her.

It wasn't until she had looked up at him and wiped the tears from his face before leaning into his chest again.

“I'm just glad he's gone.” she murmured into his chest.

“As long as you're mine, nobody is ever going to hurt you again baby.” he promised.

#bughead #betty cooper #veronica lodge #archie andrews #chuck clayton #jughead jones #bughead fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #betty x jughead #jughead x betty

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