Hell V Heaven.

hell v heaven.

pairings. harry bingham x fem!reader

about. reader gets scolded by her friend only for harry to defend her

warnings. swearing

from ricky's mailbox to yours. I don't expect anything from this, I just wanted to post because I miss this damn show

west ham was always ordinarily boring and filled to the brim with people who had their pockets filled with more than enough money to know what to do with.

your life was a repetitive process and ran on a schedule that really never changed unless you chose to eat breakfast for once in your life, which you never really did--or take your mom up on the offer to go on walks—which you also really never did.

the day you got off that bus and found no parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, or even siblings was a day you couldn’t help but sigh in relief with finding a loss of obligations and responsibilities. you felt a lift from your shoulders and a greatness fill your chest as you finally let go and fell from your schedule.

but it wasn’t funny and you were no longer having any fun the moment you discovered your situation was permanent and a forest had overgrown all roads and tracks out of this new found nightmare of yours.

“you think god's trying to teach us a lesson?” you looked up from your book seeing your friend maddie who had her lips pressed into a thin line, still trying to figure out this whole predicament.

even as this was a nightmare and you weren’t used to change, you found yourself leaning away from getting caught up in caring so much or getting too emotional about it. you figured you could be in worse situations and at least you were still alive.

“i don’t think it’s that deep,” you mumbled carelessly, flipping the page to your book, not sparing another glance to her till she stands up with a huff and grumble, clenching and unclenching her fists while exiting harry’s living room.

but then she felt herself flipping around, facing you and your slightly confused expression, “what’s your problem?”

you frowned a little deeper as she stood before you with her poised posture, seeming more angered than you had ever seen her, “what?-” you shared a look with harry who seemed just as lost as you did before she cut you off.

“because ever since we discovered we’re trapped here it seems like you couldn’t give a damn and it’s really pissing me off,” she exhaled roughly with her chest puffing in and out with air, like she had been waiting a long time to say this. “you’re not here for anyone and i haven’t heard you cry once either, y/n.”

“you want me.. you want me to cry?” you raised an eyebrow, slightly taken aback.

“yes, y/n, because i’m really close to thinking you’re a sociopath-”

“woah, woah, woah, maddie” harry shook his head with his lips deeply curved downwards, “shut up.”

“don’t tell me to ‘shut up’ harry.”

“don’t be a cunt, maddie,” he scoffs, looking at her as if she were a fool. his stare is harsh and she even slowly begins to feel like one with how hard and taunting his eyes are.

if harry had a skill in something, it'd be his way of looking down on people and making them feel his disgust and repulsion toward them. harry had to be one of the most arrogant people you had met, but at least his arrogance came in handy in situations where you needed defense.

"whatever, harry," she rolls her eyes at him, trying to push off the sickening feeling he pushed on to her. "you two deserve each other, especially if you're both enjoying this little vacation we were gifted."

harry sits in the grey chair maddie previously sat in, "you okay?"

"yeah, I'm good."

“you sure?”

you look up to him, finally meeting his dialed in expression that was genuine and curious to your well being.

strange.

it was things like this that gave you somewhat joy that you no longer had a schedule, that kept you from hating your new reality.

west ham turning upside down revealed a lot about your fellow classmates and even best friend’s character, as seen seconds ago. you couldn’t decipher whether or not you found joy in the fact of that, but right now, with harry sitting across from you and close to reach out to you, was something you knew you enjoyed.

before, in your tight knit schedule, harry didn’t fit in it. he was only a family friend you saw at birthdays and conjoined vacations since the beginning of your memory, but nothing more.

“yeah, i’m sure,” you pressed your lips into a thin line.

“i don’t think she understands people handle grief differently,” he looks sympathetic but drops any attempt to move closer with a reach of comfort upon realization that you were really fine.

“you think i’m in grief?”

he pauses, doesn’t look at you for a minute with silence as he narrows his eyebrows before looking up to meet your eyes, “i mean, aren’t we all?”

aren’t we all?

jesus, maybe you were a sociopath.

“i-uh-“

“y/n,” he stops you, shaking his hand. “when-when my father died, i didn’t think it was real. all these people came up to me, your parents, all would walk up, apologize, offer their condolences, but i never really understood. what was the big deal?—just a death, right?”

he offers an awkward smile with a glance through his eyelashes, before looking back to his carpet, “thing was, i didn’t realize that that death, was my fathers death—i mean i did, my body didn’t. i was in denial.”

silence. you both think about his words.

the way he spoke was really smart--it surprised you that it was him that they were coming from. not only did you start to enjoy his company, but his words...

“i shouldn’t have-“

“no,” you cut him from his potential regret in sharing. you knew that took a lot from him. “maybe you're right… or maybe maddie is. maybe i really am a sociopath.”

"y/n, that's an insane thing to say," he shakes his head, still looking down, but now at his hands as he begins to rub them together. "everyone handles grief differently," he repeats, "especially something like this; especially something that feels nowhere near real."

you stare at harry, blinking, while he stares back at you with a thin-lipped smile. you felt your chest tighten to an extreme as you continued to watch, thinking about his words that tumble around in your head. you somehow couldn't grasp it; the reassurance. but rather... you were more hung up on the matter that it was him saying such kind words to you.

everyone knew harry was the biggest asshole in west ham and he had no shame in it. everyone would call you a liar is you ever exposed the conversation; harry didn't have a nice bone in his body, so how was it that he had just created one of the nicest convos you had ever had with anyone?

your chest pulls into a ball even more. you feel like you can't breathe.

what was happening to you?

you hadn't felt a pang of sadness till now.

"you okay?"

you hate that question.

"yeah, i'm okay."

"you sure?" he's leaning towards you, his eyes prying.

you feel the pressure intensify, but this time around your eyes as if something had the need to be forced out.

fuck, not now.

"y/n, woah," he's quick to come closer to you, now kneeling before you with his hands on your face.

“i shouldn’t be crying-“

he shushes you as he tries his best to clear your face from the salty tears that begin to run down your cheeks like a hill. he smiles lightly to your embarrassment while shaking his head, “crying is fine.”

“i feel bad.”

“for what?”

“harry, i don’t even feel bad about them being gone,” you sniff, wiping your face from the wetness quickly. “i feel bad about you and your father and everything.”

“oh?” he seems caught off guard about this, taking a step back from your distraught stare. “why?”

you stare over at him with wide doe eyes, something that looks like fear for the matter of having to provide an explanation. you glance to the side, also leaning away from him, bracing yourself to answer. you feel even more choked up, like your throat had been clogged and stuffed with toilet paper--or whatever it was to help you not speak.

"my parents-" you sniff, wiping your nose with the back of your hand. "god, I hated my parents--so I'm not sorry that I'm not sad about something that is ultimately a blessing... but I am sorry that this has happened to you... all of you."

he stares. he feels as if he's about to explode.

"I'm sorry, harry--that you had to lose your father and your mother as fast as you did," you shake your head, "I'm sorry that you think that that's how I feel about my own parents."

why does he feel like this?

his hand is mid air, reaching to clasp his chest as if consoling his heart, but it doesn't goes as far to make contact.

he feels strange. he doesn't know how to cope with someone he has known for so long revealing what must have been the biggest burden on their shoulders, hidden in plain sight from him, as well as gushing about sympathy for him--he hates that.

as for the other thing; harry had known you since the beginning of time, he knew your parents since the beginning of time. you were both absorbed within the same lifestyle but the two of you were never anything more than acquaintances.

he found it strange that he could see your life so clearly like it was his own, but it seemed that was only the surface of a glass window that only you and your family allowed people to see.

"y/n, you're not a sociopath," he finally says, "sociopaths don't feel sympathy for other people. you're just in a difficult situation that no kid will understand because their parents are their heroes."

he pinches the bridge of his nose, finally looking up to you, "you also shouldn't feel bad for me."

you looked at him confused, urging him to explain.

"none of us are saints, y/n. somehow i think we all deserve this," he runs a hand down the front of his face. "you... you're just somehow better than the rest of us, this is a vacation god has granted you."

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head.

he smiles in return before dropping his face into a softer expression, reaching for your hand, "you good?"

"yeah, i'm good," you nod.

"good," he squeezes your hand. "enjoy heaven while you have it."

Can we get a smart Peter Pan on God and like the Peter Pan from2003 like can we get it in smut on God like I would love to see that where the reader loses her virginity Peter Pan

bro WHAT 😭

just binged through all of your slytherin boys stuff after rediscovering your account and it really had me giggling and twirling my hair

i just be like that. got myself like that sometimes when writing:

and thank you 😭

i do what i have to do.

pairings. bellamy blake x fem!reader

part two of two.

about. in which you point your gun at someone you never thought you’d point it at.

warnings. swearing

ricky rocks. look who finally finished a year old one shot/fic/whatever you call it 🤗🤗

bellamy coudn’t hurt you even if he wanted to. so, when mumbling the words, ‘move or i’ll kill you’, you could see right through his bluff by the way his eyes so willingly betrayed him, filled with... hurt.

in all truth, bellamy believed you would have shot him if it would have come down to that, and maybe that’s what pained him most. he wouldn't hurt a hair on your head, and you would have, but only for the best interest and safety of arkadia and your friends. 

you never wanted to hurt bellamy, but recently you really, really wanted to slap him upside the head for all the stupid shit he had been doing. and maybe a gun scare would knock some sense into him, or maybe it would only put him deeper into the hole pike was digging for him. 

bellamy yanked you to your feet quickly after the two of you had seemed to have recovered from all the commotion that had just taken place. you weren't sure whether or not he wanted to get you away from the increase in rowdy crowd or to have his way with you first. 

you were beginning to think it was the last option as he marched down the hall with you in front of him, gripping your left arm while the other pressed against your back. one, two, three, four more steps before he shoved you into one of the guards rooms, his room. 

“what the hell do you think you’re doing?” he let go of your arm with a slight shove causing you to stumble forward a bit. he looked angry, more than you had ever seen him and more than you would have ever wished to see.

“bellamy, don’t start with me,” you mumbled, raising a finger to harshly accuse him... for something. “if you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

he scoffed, looking beyond dumbfounded with his mouth slight agape, not believing the words that had just came from your mouth.

“stop fucking talking,” he needed to think. he begun to pace back and forth, and you had no idea what to do with yourself as you watched him. “i need to get you out of here.”

"what?"

he gives you a dumbfounded look that was filled with a sense of urgency, "y/n, you just shot someone that can have you dead within seconds. you don't leave, someone’s going to do exactly what you did, and take justice into their own hands."

"you should have let me finish the job."

"we're not starting this," he grips your shoulder before pushing you by your upper back. "people are leaving. o, kane, miller—you go with them. you stay, they'll kill you."

"how do you know this?" you mumbled, glancing back at the mention of your friends and the planned escape you all had developed. bellamy was considered a traitor to you all, so he would be the last person on your list to concern with the escape plan. 

"eyes everywhere."

you narrow your brows at him, "you're coming with."

he narrows his brows in shock, not expecting you to say this, you share the same expression, also shocked by yourself. the past month would explain this--not only had you watched your world at arkadia fastly crumble after the slow rebuild of humanity, you also witnessed your relationship with bellamy slowly tank moment after moment while his with pike was created.

so, offering passage was an absurd idea. after all the betrayal.

he seems to wince after his surprisal settles but is quick to keep a straight face as best as he can, "you're getting the wrong idea."

"am i?"

"we're not friends anymore, y/n. this isn't old times," his words are intentionally stinging, but you don't miss the look on his face that betrays him. "you can't save me if that’s what you’re thinking. I don't need to be saved, i know what i’m doing."

you frown, "bellamy, you need to stop acting like there's never going to be a happy ending for you before it comes true. leave with us."

"you know i can't do that."

"why not?"

"I dug myself in too deep this time," his face was still stone cold, but it didn't prevent remorse from blossoming in your chest. "maybe if you weren't such a terrible shot, this would be all over."

***

in well under an hour bellamy had you out of arkadia, alone. your friends had left a lot sooner than thought and no matter how much begging you did—expectedly—bellamy left his mind unchanged. 

you knew exactly where your friends were going—where they’d be. it was a long and lonely hike but it was enough time for reflection.

you miss the time where you felt like a kid still. where you were young and reckless and full of hope that you’d finally get to be free upon that first step off the drop ship. that you had purpose and will and fighting was something you hadn’t really minded aside from the possible side affect of death.

now you were tired. you just wanted to lay your head down for once and not think about the pointless rivalry purging your everyday life.

“y/n, you’re okay,” octavia pulls you into a tight hug, a certain relief setting over. “god, after we hadn’t seen you, we assumed the worst.”

“i’m okay,” you gave her a thin-lipped smile, “thanks to your brother.”

“bellamy?” she seems shocked, like that’s the first courteous thing he’s done for someone in years.

“yes,” you nod, understanding the hostile tone she almost takes with his name. “i think he might’ve saved me.”

“where is bellamy?” miller speaks causing you to realize they had all emerged from the cave.

"he's gone."

"dead?"

"no,” you shake your head, “he stayed behind. he said he had to fix some thing’s before he showed his face again.”

octavia mentally rolled her eyes, but kept her composure as she watched you, “you’re here. that’s all that matters.”

***

“is he dead?”

“indra has him.”

“bellamy-“

“y/n,” he gives you a pointed look at your protest. “you know that’s as good as dead.”

he was right. pike killed her people, that was far from unforgivable. he’d be lucky to receive death.

“she didn’t kill you.”

he shook his head, keeping his eyes low to the ground, “thanks to o.”

it took a day for bellamy to find you all. his face was beaten and bloodied, but you knew better than to ask what the cause was. he had a lot of enemies at the moment and it wasn’t like this was something out of the blue for him. you would've been surprised to see a clean face.

“she doesn’t hate you as much as you think.”

“i’d like to think she doesn’t hate me at all,” he presses his lips into a thin line. “you’re right though.”

you nod, trying to look sympathetic.

“about everything. i’m sorry.”

your mouth slightly opens in shock from not anticipating his words; apology and admitting.

“i’m sorry too,” you nod, swallowing harshly as you think about having that gun pointed inches from his face. “i would’ve never shot you.”

“you sure?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell he’s genuine when asking. “could’ve guessed otherwise.”

“guessing will only hurt you,” you tease, but quickly drop the blitheness. “i shouldn’t have done it, but i was scared… and angry.”

“i know,” he whispers, “we do what we have to do, right?”

“right.”

“then if that means shooting me to knock some sense into me, do it.”

a laugh gets stuck in the back of your throat at the preposterous thought of it. the funny thing was you knew he wasn’t joking. classic bellamy, putting himself in harm’s way.

“me a couple months ago would be more than happy to oblige,” you shake your head, making it his turn to laugh.

“us a couple months ago was a different story. i’m sure we already had guns to each other’s throats.”

you laugh with him, “yeah.”

“never again.”

nodding, “never again.”

you stare at one another now, quiet and calm. you don’t think you’ve ever had a moment like this with bellamy before.

you’re not sure what to do, but bellamy does.

your months of angsty butting heads leading to civilness, then ultimately leading to radio silence on both of your ends due to pike, had killed him. and now, here you were, back in his grasp of more than just civilness, he couldn’t let that go.

“i lied,” he mumbles, suddenly shifting from the rock he sat on. “instead of shooting me…” he’s leaning now, hovering, and just barely resisting the urge to complete his intentions. you feel his breath fan your face; feel, because your eyes are shut. “please, just kiss me.”

his nose is slotted against yours, still hovering as he watches you beneath his eye lashes. his lips are so close… so close to yours, it’s killing him that he waits.

“i’m sorry, but i have to do this,” he smiles before finally pressing his lips against yours.

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girl do you have a masterlist? I’m dying to read all your work related to the sturnilio triplets. It’s sooo goood!

love from mexico!

xoxo

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pairings. chris sturniolo x fem!reader

ricky rocks. i’m actually in that phase in life where i want a boyfriend 😭😭 extremely down bad !!