#✇ ⦚ i’ll swallow my blood before i swallow my pride. - chats ⦚ ✇

[hannaday81]

My Stray Kids Facfic Recs

Lee Minho + Hwuang Hyunjin = Hyunho

bagelboy

Baby, You’re Kinda Driving Me Crazy (I’m Not One to Need Saving)  *Finished

There are some things everyone just knows. The sky is blue. The earth is round. There are 365 days in a year. Hyunjin hates Minho. Minho hates Hyunjin.(And they are intent on keeping it that way.) (Turns out, the universe has other plans.)

You'll Feel it Kicking in Soon (Are You Falling in Love?)  -NEW

Although Hyunjin prides himself in being able to read people from the inside out, there are moments when his brain somehow fails to put the puzzle pieces together in a way that makes sense. Like right now.“You’ll deny it until the day you die,” she says.“Deny what?"“That something changed,” she replies. “When you met him.”

ChansOtherRoom (MB1000)

The Best Mistake  *Finished 

And it was dried (thankfully.) But it still meant that blood was flaking off of the omega for whatever reason. Which could only mean that he had had an open wound at some point during the night. Which- “Holy shit.” Which of course made panic course through him once again. Because why would he have a wound on his neck? Why would- “It looks like a bite mark.” Minho swallowing as he finally moved to sit up. “It looks like a…” But once the alpha’s upper half was fully raised and head no longer buried into the pillows and blankets, Hyunjin’s eyes zeroed on Minho’s neck as well. Before widening at what the omega saw and… “M-Minho…” And there was dried blood coating the alpha’s neck as well. With teeth indents underneath that… “What the fuck happened last night?” That looked like a mating bite. - OR - Hyunjin ends up accidentally mated to the one person he absolutely cannot stand.

exhale_now

need a second to breathe  *Finished -NEW

“Why haven’t you kissed me?” Hyunjin asked again as he took another step into the kitchen. “You’ve… you’ve kissed everyone else in our friend group. Why not me?” Or, the casual questions that Hyunjin asks at a party changes everything for him and Minho. Someone's going to get hurt - spoiler, it isn't Hyunjin. But it's okay - it's totally fine and Minho isn't breaking his own heart by hooking up with someone he most definitely got over his crush on ages ago. Right?

fvckingangelic (recursiveloop)

high definition  *Finished

“Have you ever considered collaborating with another streamer?—Uh, never thought about it.”It would break the first rule of this whole thing—revealing his identity. Even if it’s to someone in the same boat as him, someone who likely doesn’t want their face getting leaked any more than he does, it’s still a risk, one Minho doesn’t quite want to take.The chat fills with agreements that he definitely should, even throwing out suggestions.Then someone suggests Honeyjin and the rest latch on.-Or, it's hard to get over your ex when you're fucking the guy that looks just like him.

hyunknow

I loved you then (i'll love you now) *Finished

"Hypothetically speaking," Minho asks, "Say you're immortal and you keep seeing your ex-boyfriend from a hundred years ago, what would you think?" "I'd assume that my ex was also somehow immortal."Or.5 times Minho sees Hyunjin after a hundred years and 1 time he talks to him.

Love Let Me Breathe, Love Let You Remember  *Finished 

"Six months." Hyunjin pleads, his hands trembling "Give us six months for Minho to remember me and if I'm still coughing up flowers by then," he swallows thickly and sets his jaw in determination "if he doesn't love me back in six months then we can discuss our options."orMinho loses his memory in a car accident and Hyunjin is determined to regain his love despite the flowers growing in his lungs.

Still Calling For You *Oneshot

Hyunjin makes the mistake of getting a little too drunk at his friend's engagement party.

sofwrites

all these little things  *Oneshot

Something has been different lately; and Minho has really been trying to figure out exactly what it is. How come he misses Hyunjin the second he leaves for another dorm, one without a bedroom for them to share daily? Why does he find himself at a loss for words more often than not in Hyunjin's presence, when he's never been this tongue-tied before? And for what reason does he find himself spending more time alone with Hyunjin now, when he's really had all the chances in the world for years?or; Minho falls in love without really noticing. The object of his affection certainly does, on the other hand.

fingers crossed that you don't scar me for life, that you don't kill the stars in my eyes, 'cause i really, really want you and i-- *Finished  Hyunjin wants to snort at the idiocy of it all - the premise, the set-up, the fact that they’re all here and intending to participate - but thankfully, he refrains. Instead, he’s reminded of how tonight will be the last night he and Changbin can spend together in almost a month, because after this they will be staying in separate rooms while they all date around for five days.After that, there’s going to be some kind of ceremony where they get paired up with someone who isn’t their own partner, and proceed to live with this essential stranger for three weeks before having to make the choice of whether they want to pursue something with the stranger, whether they want to return to their original partner and marry them, or whether both relationships will end and Hyunjin will go home by himself to start all over again.* * *“I’m not sure who the person I’ll spend the rest of my life with is yet,” Hyunjin declares, watching Minho’s eyebrows climb higher in surprise, “but I’m pretty sure about the next few weeks.”

he didn't mean to seduce him (the first time)  *Oneshot

Hyunjin didn’t mean to seduce Minho the first time. He swears.

if love is blind, and i love you, then why bother with rose-tinted glasses?  *Finished

In which Hwang Hyunjin and a bunch of strangers are thrown head-first into the latest reality dating show where they're supposed to a) find and b) get engaged to the person they want to spend the rest of their lives with. The twist? The participants have no idea what their dates look like.or; "If someone had told me before this that I would be saying what I am now, I don’t think I would have believed them. I told you you changed me. Within minutes, as if it were that easy."

love is a masterpiece, but you never cared for art, did you *Finished 

"Do you understand? There are other people, there are things I've always known and have been comfortable with, and then, Hwang Hyunjin... Then there's you."

unfinished business: in my mind you're always mine  *Finished

“So…,” Hyunjin eventually murmurs, stealing Minho’s attention in a heartbeat. “At what point do we tell them that we dated for two years?”“After cashing the check,” Minho replies.“Deal,” Hyunjin says quietly.Minho shivers. He never fully understood the meaning of making deals with the Devil before this exact moment.

want nothin' on me but you  *Oneshot 

“Good,” Hyunjin tells him, gentle words and touches all over Minho’s body as it trembles with the pleasure coursing through him. “There we go. My silly alpha. You gotta breathe for me.”“I’m trying,” Minho mumbles, or something like it, and sighs in relief when Hyunjin presses a heavy kiss to his lips so Minho doesn’t have to remember his words anymore.

want you (to want me again)  *Oneshot

“I’m not nervous,” he responds instead over his roommate’s coughing. “I can’t remember the last time I was nervous. Hopefully it’ll either go well or straight to hell, as long as it’s entertaining. If this guy turns out to be a boring ass prick, I might leave before dinner even arrives.”“Minho, he’s not a boring ass prick. Do you think I would set you up with a boring ass prick?”

what's that saying about keeping friends close but enemies closer? (asking for a... friend)  *Oneshot

“Look which doorstep you showed up on,” Minho mutters, hesitantly crouching to get a better look at the semi-familiar face that has sneered at him so many times before. It isn't right now. “This is a first. I know you're obsessed with me, bug, but bothering me when I’m literally minding my own business is another level even for you.”It seems Jiniret hasn't lost consciousness completely, even though he sags against the wall. There’s a small huff from his dry lips and flicker of his closed eyes, and then nothing, as if Minho imagined it.“Close,” Jiniret breathes, as if speaking is an effort and enunciating his syllables almost impossible. “You're close. ‘Couldn’t… couldn’t make it anywhere else.”

strayfever

Venomous Love ~hyunho  -NEW

It's the typical Enemies to Lovers story, flavored by yours truly.Raised in the same neighborhood and social circle, Minho and Hyunjin know each other far too well. Both families are well-known chaebols with deep roots in the South Korean economy. Their successes are crucial to the country.Being the only sons and heirs of multibillion-dollar companies, they are raised to hate the Lees or the Hwangs. Whenever they cross paths, they take every opportunity to humiliate or destroy the other. This ends most of the time in a fight because the only way they feel like winning.. is by using their own strength. Something money can't control.Lee and Hwang are obsessed to get under each other's skin, making them blind to see what is fueling the said obsession.Lee is 27 and Hwang 26.

stupdme

CHANGE OF PLANS 

Cuando Minho tiene una nueva víctima en la mira, Hyunjin se propone evitar a toda costa que su mejor amiga caiga en las garras de aquel idiota. Frustrar el plan de Minho, ¿Qué tan difícil puede ser? Considerando que el plan que quieres arruinar es el incorrecto, imposible. ━ Cambio de planes, ella ya no me interesa, lo quiero a él 

suhmthingoriginal

Elementary  *Finished -NEW

The last people Hyunjin expected to see on his unfortunate preheat outing was his student and his student’s hot alpha father

yeolinski

Picture Perfect  *Oneshot

hyune: I legit queued for the toilet for 15 minutes, just so I could take a dick pic on the plane for you Self: why didn’t you take it next to your window, with the view of the clouds? Self: friendly advice, for the future Self: Could’ve been much more romantic hyune: I tried to, but the old lady next to me was eyeing me after the first two attempts. I think she even tried to rat me off to the stewardess as a pervert. hyune: Some people just don't understand modern romanceor, the one where a single dick pic rocked Minho's world.

[highpony-betty]

Para

Title: The Pain Shouldn’t Be Hers

Status: Brief

Who: Barbie & Betty

Mentions: Violet

About: Betty loses her control when she sees her sister being used by several people at once, going to Barbie for aftercare and a chat once Violet is taken care of and resting.

TW: Blood

Betty slammed her door behind her, walking briskly to the bathroom and grabbing a towel, wetting it with cold water and holding it against the palm of hand. She alternated hands until every single inch of it was stained with her own blood. She grabbed another towel and did the same, groaning and growling in anger before just yelling bloody murder at the mirror. She ignored the peeling skin and blood on her knuckles, just letting it spread over her flesh and into the sink. The ribbons of red would have been beautiful under different circumstances. But this wasn’t anyone’s doing but her own. Her nails had dug unbelievably deep into her palms, and she’d done damage to a wall with her fists to avoid punching someone. She was in no mood to take care of herself. Violet was asleep, and she couldn’t just leak blood everywhere, so she grabbed a first aid kit and swallowed some pride, kneeling outside Barbie’s door and waiting for it to open. “It doesn’t hurt that much,” she offered in defense of herself. It was weak though, because her cousin knew about her old anger issues and would probably spot the signs very quickly that no one had done this to her.

Barbie was working on her dissertation and wondering about her next axam when she hard a knocking at her door. She hdn't invited anyone over, but she still put on pink heels that matched her tweed outfit perfectly and opene the door with her red head cassading down her back. She rai8sed an eyebrow before she noticed what was in her cousin's hands and then seeing the redness against her skin. Stepping aside, she pointed for Betty to move inside her resident and then took the kit. "Talk."

Betty slinked in and picked a spot where she wouldn’t risk getting blood anywhere. “People are hurting Violet.” She was a little disappointed in herself, but honestly she’d have done damage to them if they weren’t in school. “They’re lucky I didn’t have my gun.” She wouldn’t have shot them of course, but she felt it made her point clearly.

Barbie opened the kit, always happy to play doctor, because she found all aspects of human bodies interesting. She raised her eyebrow higher at her cousin's words. "And how is you getting punished helping Violet? I know you'll hate hearing this, but tha t is a possiblity for her. She's a slave and you can't hurt them or yourself."

“I didn’t get punished,” she corrected. “Im only bleeding because I did it to myself.” She was pretty detached from the pain she’d inflicted on herself- clearly not caring much that she was bleeding. “Kind of wish I’d have done something to them though. It would at least feel like Im not powerless.” She watched Barbie as she patched her up, always learning from her.

"Yet." Barbie corrected, because she knew that if Betty reacted the wrong way, she would be. Maybe even more. She didn't really want to think about that, cleaning the wound properly as she looked at it before her green eyes shifted to her face. "You really want to make it worse for Violet? Because that is what you're going to do if you do that. I know you might hate this, but in regards to Vi? You are powerless, the best you can do is keep amlevel head and provide aftercare when needed."

“I don’t do well with being powerless against problems,” Betty mumbled a little angry- a little defeated. She tried to stay calm even now that she was in a safe space; watching Barbie’s movements trying to work herself into somewhat of a trance to cool down. “Keep a level head while people torture my sister..sure. Sounds doable. I’ll get right on it.”

"The solution would have been buying her, but it didn't work out that way. So now the solution is to work past it." Barbie said, shaking her head as she looked at her cousin. She knew it hurt her, but she also knew that things were not changing, because Violet was now a slave and slaves got abused. "You don't have a choice. You have to figure out how to suppress your natural feelings."

“Ugh,” Betty groaned, placing her face in her hands because she was too distracted by her feelings to remember that her cousin had been working on bandaging her hands. “I don’t know how to do that. I’ve been doing well, I really have. I haven’t been asking her things like I want to, and I don’t make her come to me all the time. I’ve been not getting involved which..” she trailed off. No one was surprised when she’d ended up in the kind of work she did with the FBI. Ever since high school when she’d come out of her shell, she got involved in everything. “It’s been hard. I’ve gotten in trouble in class twice for not paying attention. But it was only because they were showing guidance videos that had Vi in them. I can’t watch them.”

Barbie took her hand back after she moved them, shaking her head at Betty. "It sounds like you need to be desensitized to it and the best way is to watch her. It's no different than any other slave and their family. You're wallowing in this." Barbie was practical when others wasn't. "You're going to hae to learn how to get over it. You have to learn to watch the videos and not see your sister, but a slave."

“Desensitizing is an option,” Betty had to agree. She was trained in it, but it could be super tricky. “I can’t just obliviate us being sisters, though. I’m not willing to do that. Which means I have to be okay with people hurting my sister.” Not the best option in the world, but if carried out slowly and carefully, it could work. She reached into her pocket to get her phone to start coming up with a plan, but then remembered she was being taken care of- giving her hand back to Barbie. “I wonder if it’s psychologically possible to be okay with someone getting hurt while still thinking of them as a person.”

[amandasounders-blog]

     Os corredores da escola estavam estranhamente silenciosos, considerando que haviam acabado as aulas daquele dia a apenas alguns minutos, o lugar deveria estar cheio de jovens pegando seu material ansiosos para voltar pra casa. Ao longe conseguiu ouvir passos, entrando no seu campo de visão umx alunx que vinha correndo na sua direção. — Não corra no corredor! — Ela disse quando elx se aproximou, avisando ofegante que uma briga estava para começar no lado de fora da escola. Assustada, foi correndo na direção que x jovem indicava e ao chegar la viu de fato uma comoção em volta de dois alunos. Por sorte, a briga ainda não havia se tornado física e nenhum dos dois tinha começado a usar seus poderes. O primeiro soco estava prestes a ser dado quando Amanda conseguiu se colocar entre os dois e segurar o punho de um no ar. — Posso saber o que esta acontecendo aqui? — Ela gritou, olhando para os dois de maneira autoritária.

[mytheoristavenue]

MHA Katski Bakugo x Reader x Kaminari Denki - Shock and Awe

Summary: Bakugo comforts you after you find out that Kaminari cheated on you.

Background: You came from the same Jr. High school ask Bakugo and Midoryia. The three of you were friends when you were little and as the two of them drifted apart, you did your best to stay friends with both. They are both very close to you.

Quirk: Shock absorption

Warning: Adultery, Depression, Language.

You had entered UA alongside Bakugo, and was thrilled to hear that Midoryia had also been accepted. You had made friends with most in your class, especially Denki Kaminari.

Over time, Midoryia began to drift away from you and toward IIda and Ochaco, leaving you with Bakugo, who remained your best friend.

Bakugo could never swallow his pride enough to admit it, but he had been absolutely infatuated with you since the two of you were 5 years old. When he developed his quirk and began to lash out at you. He quickly realized you, were the only person he could not harm. Not because your quirk would not allow you to feel the pain, but simply because, no matter how much you angered him, he couldn't bring himself to let harm come to you, and he tried. At a younger age, he used to use you as literal target practice, behind the thinly vailed excuse that he was making himself stronger by practicing his explosions, while at the same time, making your skin thicker, and strengthening you shock absorbing abilities. In reality, he wanted so badly to hate you, to watch you suffer, to make you cry. But he couldn't. And that made him cry.

Over time, he learned to accept his love for you and hide it. He took on a painful role as your wingman, best friend, your brother even. So when you began to obviously fall for the suave and charming Kaminari, it made his blood boil.

"Oh Baku...isn't he just...ah...wonderful?" You sighed while dreamily staring in Denki's direction.

"Yeah, wonderfully stupid." He replied rolling his eyes as he walked behind you in the hall.

You puffed out your cheeks at his rude comment. "That's not very nice, Bakugo!"

"And I'm not a very nice person, (N/N). Sparky over there's a loser. He acts like he's got a short circuit 24/7." Bakugo said, feeling a pang of jealous shoot through his body. You pouted in response.

"Come on, short stuff, I'll walk you home." He said before walking you to your dorm.

The next morning came and you were sitting on your desk, chatting with Tsuyu when Denki came up to you.

"Good morning (L/N). You look lovey in your uniform today, although, that's nothing new." Denki smirked. "Where's Big Brother Bakugo today?" You blushed and tripped over your words.

"He's out sick today, ribbit." Tsu answered. "The flu."

"Ah, well I'll have to send him a get well card. In the mean time, (L/N), would you talk with me in the hall for a sec?" he asked before grabbing your hand and leading your outside.

"W-What's up?" you stuttered.

"Well...I was wondering if maybe you'd like you go on a date with me later on this afternoon? Maybe get some ice cream?" He asked, sounding slightly nervous.

"Y-Yes! Oh my gosh yes!" You replied enthusiastically.

"Alright. I'll be at your dorm at 4:30, okay?" and with that he kissed your forehead and took his seat in the classroom.

That was four and a half months ago.

You walked through the halls and pulled your sleeve down. You walked up to Denki and hugged his back.

"O-Oh...hey Babe. You okay?" He asked awkwardly. You nodded. "Ight, cool! See ya in class!" and with that he slipped away again.

This had been going on for about a month. Him ignoring and avoiding you had sadly became the norm of your relationship and you began to wonder if he was being loyal. You shook those thoughts away and tried to convince yourself that everything was fine. You decided that you would bring him some ice cream that night with some movies and surprise him.

That was a mistake.

Bakugo's POV

'I can't fucking believe that piece of shit. Dragging MY GIRL through the mud like that!' I thought as I watch Kaminari slip away form (Y/N) like that. Once I find out what his game is, that mother fucker's gonna be BBQ! God she is too good for him! I wish she'd just see that!

3rd Person POV

You arrived at Denki's dorm with a bag of treats, wearing a cute flower print sundress that he always used to love. You knocked on the door and to your surprise, it creaked open.

You wished it hadn't. You wished he'd had the decency to lock the door.

"D-Denki...?" You felt tears well up in your eyes. "Why...?"

"(Y-Y/N)! Baby it's...It's not how it looks!" He stuttered.

It was exactly how it looked. And it looked horrible.

It looked horrible to see another female student that you didn't even know, naked, sitting in his lap.

It sounded horrible to hear her scream his name.

The smell of sex in the air, it smelled horrible.

The taste of blood in your mouth from you biting your lip tasted horrible.

But most horrible of all...it felt horrible.

You dropped the bag and ran home.

Kaminari felt tears prick his eyes. "Get out." he commanded the female.

She giggled. "Why Daddy? Your little girly friend's taken care of...we can still-"

"GET OUT NOW" He shouted, resulting in the blonde girl gathering her clothes and sloppily dressing before performing the walk of shame.

You finally made it back to your room and practically collapse into Bakugo's waiting arms. He had waited outside your door for hours.

"B-Baku h-he-" you began.

"I know." He said shakily, trying to hold back his rage.

"B-but...how...why are you here..." you asked as he lead you in.

"I watched him kiss her outside of his room and lead her in. So I came here to wait for you. I'm sorry I didn't tell you. You wouldn't have believed me." he explained as the two of you sat on your bed.

You sobbed into his chest as he pet your hair and comforted you surprisingly well.

"(Y/N)..."

"Y-Yes...?"

"I...I've loved you for a really long time..." He spoke so calmly. "I've been such a toxic force in your life and I can't forgive myself for that. But I need you to know that there is a reason I act like your body guard....and that's because I had always hoped that if I just scared everyone off, I'd get to have you all to myself one day...And I know that's the most toxic thing I could have ever done..." He monologued.

You were shocked. You had always tried to run from loving Bakugo, for fear of losing him, so you moved on.

"Baku...I-I...have loved you since we were kids...that's why you trying to blow me up never bothered me...I would follow you anywhere...but I thought if you ever found out I'd lose you...so  I moved on...and seeing me with Denki must have destroyed you...Katsuki I'm so sorry!"

You fell into his arm and enveloped him into a needy hug.

"(Y/N)?" Before you had the chance to answer he grabbed your cheeks and crashed his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. After the shock wore off, you melted against him.

"Nobody will ever hurt my princess again. I love you, baby." he said as the two of you began melting into a passionate make out.

Kaminari's POV

I got dressed and ran to (Y/N)'s dorm as fast as I could. I was just about to twist the knob when I heard Bakugo's voice from inside.

"Nobody will ever hurt my princess again. I love you, baby." followed by her sweet signature moans. I couldn't mistake those sounds for anything. He was kissing her neck and rubbing her scalp and tickling her spine. All the things that I used to do to her to make her make those sounds. God, I'm such an idiot. I decided to do those things to someone else and I lost her...I just can't believe it took so long for me to realize how in love with her I am...You win Bakugo...fair and square.

[talatomaz]

defenceless | jj x fem!teen!reader

a/n: i’ve been rewatching criminal minds and i can’t believe it’s been a year since i last wrote for jj. and i have no idea where this came from.

(feedback/positive comments are appreciated)

warnings: major references to blood/being stabbed. mentions of assault

word count: 2.7k

masterlist | request list | request rules

r is jj’s 19 year old adopted daughter and gets victimised after stopping an unsub from assaulting someone

i do not give you permission to repost or translate my fics on any platform - likes/reblogs are okay and are much appreciated

“Morning, baby.”

You smiled when your Mum came up behind you and softly kissed your head.

“Morning, Mum. I made you some breakfast.”

You said, pouring coffee into the seasoned profiler’s ‘No.1 Mom’ mug that you’d gotten for her several years ago.

You’d gifted it to her on the first Mother’s Day you had with her after she adopted you. And she used it that morning and every morning since.

“God, what’d I do to deserve a daughter like you?”

JJ said proudly as she dug into her breakfast, happily munching on a piece of toast as she looked through her case file. Whatever dark, horrific crime she and her team were investigating simplified down to a few pages in that brown file.

“Busy day?” You asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, staring across at her.

“You have no idea. I’ve been up for a few hours trying to compile some notes on this case we’re working. Young, relatively low-risk, women are being raped in alleyways and there are no witnesses.”

She explained as she continued to eat whilst scribbling shorthand notes on a notepad.

“Any ideas on who you’re looking for yet?”

She hummed in answer. Swallowing her food, she replied, “Yeah, I think we have a preliminary profile that we want to release to the public later today.”

Pouring the rest of her coffee into a travel cup, she put her files in her bag and placed it on the counter you were resting against.

“You got class today?”

You were studying criminology, wanting to follow in your mother’s footsteps and become a profiler.

Nodding, you answered, “Yeah, then some of my friends and I are gonna head to the mall. And yes, I’ll message you constantly, so you know.”

You added when your mother opened her mouth to presumably ask that very question.

“Thanks, sweetie. Whoever our unsub is, he’s targeting women your age and considering he’s probably here right now, I need to know you’re safe.”

“I know, Mum. Now go, you don’t want to be late for work. Hotch only lets you be late once, you know.” You smirked.

“Yes, I know. Bye, y/n. I love you.” Your mother mirrored your expression and kissed your cheek.

“I love you too.” You replied, handing your Mum her keys and you watched her leave as the white door closed gently behind her.

***

“Maybe just call him out on it and see what he says?”

You suggested to your friend, Kerri, after she explained her boyfriend troubles to you and your other friend, Ally.

“I mean, the worst that could happen is-”

You stopped mid-sentence when you heard a muffled scream. Furrowing your brows, you walked closer to where the sound came from; an alleyway behind an old warehouse.

Remembering your mother’s earlier profile, you whispered to your friends, “Stay behind me.”

“Y/N, what is it?”

“Not sure.”

Inching around the corner, you saw two figures behind a dumpster. The smaller figure, who appeared to be a blonde female, was struggling against the male standing over her.

“Hey! Get away from her!”

Shouting, you ran up to the two and watched as the man’s head whipped around to face you before he darted off, jumping over a fence.

Approaching the woman, you saw she was half naked and had blood seeping from her nose.

“Oh god. Call 911, she’s been assaulted.” You said quickly to your friends who stood behind you, shocked at what they had just witnessed.

Hearing Kerri following your instructions, you took off the jacket you were wearing and wrapped it around the exposed girl.

“H-He tried to r-r-”

Unable to form the words, the girl started to sob at her ordeal.

“I know. It’s okay, honey. What’s your name?” You asked, speaking quietly to try to calm her as if she was a spooked animal.

“A-Annie.” She choked out as she tugged your jacket closer around her.

“Annie, you’re safe now. He can’t hurt you.”

The former began to sob harder and fell against your chest. Wrapping one arm around her, you used the other to take out your phone to call your Mum.

“Shh, it’s okay, Annie. You’re okay.” You said, soothing the distraught girl who was currently crying her heart out against you.

“Hey, y/n, what’s up?”

After quickly explaining what had just transpired, JJ told you and your friends to remain where you were since you were all witnesses and that she’d be there soon.

“You did good, babygirl.”

Morgan said, handing you a cup of coffee.

You were currently sitting at your mother’s desk at the BAU, having already given your statement to both local police and your Mum’s team at the crime scene. Emily and Spencer had driven your friends home whilst you came with your Mum to her work - she refused to leave you alone, even though you’d argued that it was still daylight and you’d be fine.

You didn’t reply, deciding to sip the hot drink, wincing when it burned your tongue.

“He’s right, y/n. Most people probably wouldn’t have heard anything.”

You glanced up at your Mum who stood above you, her hand resting on your shoulder.

“What will happen now? To the unsub, I mean. I interrupted him so he never managed to rape Annie.”

“He’ll probably try to hurt someone else.”

You turned to face Hotch as he approached you and the rest of his team.

“I just got off the phone with the hospital. They’ve discharged Annie into the care of her parents. She wanted me to tell you ‘thank you’.”

“I’m glad she’s okay. Physically anyways. So, you think he’ll get sloppy? Since he never got to...finish, he’s probably going to be antsy right? He might make a mistake?” You asked, hopeful that your Mum would catch him soon.

“More than likely. He’s definitely going to be angry, especially since we’ve just released the profile along with the sketch you helped us with, y/n.” Hotch answered, a gleam of pride in his eyes.

“Anything I could do to help,” you replied.

Standing up, you faced your Mum, “I think I’m going to go home. I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I’ll drive you h-”

“It’s okay,” you interrupted your Mum, “you’re busy here and you’ve got a lot of work to do. Besides, it’s only mid-afternoon so I’ll be fine. I-I just need some air.” You said, your voice faltering when you felt tears forming.

Clearing your throat, you held back your emotions and kissed your Mum on her cheek, “I’ll message you when I get home.”

“Okay, baby. I’m proud of you.”

The tall blonde hugged you close to her which you returned with as much ferocity, her hands stroking your hair as she cradled your head against her.

Bidding your goodbyes to the rest of the team, you left the federal building.

“JJ, you okay?” Morgan asked.

JJ had heard the emotion in your voice and though she was proud to have seen you comforting the most recent victim, it had hurt her heart to see what came after the ambulance drove away with an injured Annie in the back.

Once you’d given your statement and described the unsub to her and her team, she’d followed you to her old vacant office from her media liason days where you’d broken down.

She had watched you hold yourself together by a thread all throughout the questioning but had known that the adrenaline high would crash soon. And you quite literally did crash. In her arms, the moment she had closed the door behind her.

She had fought back her own tears as she gathered you into her arms, soothing you as you did earlier with Annie.

She’d tried as hard as she could to keep you away from her world.

She didn’t want you to be exposed to any more darkness than you’d already experienced when you were younger, before you’d met her.

“JJ?”

The blonde blinked, breaking away from her thoughts to stare back at the rest of the team.

“She did good, JJ.” Morgan repeated as JJ simply nodded, not knowing what to say.

***

Taking out your phone, you sent a message to your group chat with Kerri and Ally, wanting to make sure they were okay.

After receiving replies from the both of them confirming that they were fine and just a bit shaken up, you placed your phone back in your pocket.

Sighing, you continued walking down the relatively empty street; the majority of people either at work or school, unaware of what had happened just a few hours earlier.

You thought about Annie and later crying in your Mum’s arms. You didn’t even know why you did. Spencer probably would have given you some fact about adrenaline crashes but you shook your head, feeling self-conscious.

There was no need for you to break down like that.

All it achieved was your Mum being worried about you which was the last thing you wanted because it meant she’d be distracted from doing her job. Catching this asshole.

Hands in your pockets, you felt the bright sun shine down on your face.

Stopping for a brief moment, you glanced up at the sky, and allowed yourself to breathe.

As you were about to carry on walking, you felt a harsh grip on your arm pull you into an abandoned parking lot.

You thrashed against the strong hold, the self-defence skills your Mum taught you kicking in.

Stomping on the large figure’s foot, you smirked at the grunt of pain that fell from his lips. Then you elbowed them in their stomach and threw your head back into theirs. Hearing more shouts of pain, you started to run before you were roughly pushed against a brick wall.

Your breaths came out in heavy pants and your eyes widened as you stared into familiar eyes.

It was the unsub.

He held himself tight against you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket and into your view. Your eyes flickered from the sharp blade to his eyes. They were filled with fury as blood dripped from his nose - from when you’d head butted him.

“Good. So you recognise me.” His voice was hoarse, as if he’d swallowed a bunch of nails.

“What do you want?” You spat out, refusing to show any indication of fear to him.

“You ruined the other girl for me. But you seem like a challenge. I like that.”

Pressing the knife against your neck, he used his free hand to undo his belt.

You barely controlled the terror that threatened to rise through your body. Instead, you tried to focus on the pressure of his weapon, waiting for a slight reprieve where you could make your move to escape.

That moment came when he unzipped his trousers.

The pressure lightened for a few seconds which was all you needed.

Grabbing his wrist, you twisted the knife away from you and kneed him in the groin. Pushing him away, you stumbled, trying to escape.

But he was quick on his feet.

He swiftly picked up the knife that had fallen to the floor and thrust it into your stomach.

You groaned, the pain unlike anything you had ever experienced before. Your hand instinctively went to your stomach as blood started to coat your clothing.

You slumped down the wall as the unsub crouched down, sneering at you, “Bitch.”

Tapping the ground behind you, you felt a piece of broken glass in your fingers. Gripping it tightly, you gathered all your strength and plunged it into his neck.

He yelled out, his hand going to the glass that was still in his flesh.

Recognising what he was about to do, you clambered to your feet and watched as he pulled the shard, of what appeared to be from a broken beer bottle, out of his skin. Blood splatted all over the wall that you had been against, just moments before.

Blood continued to seep out from your wound.

You took off your jacket - the one you had previously wrapped around Annie - and pressed it against your skin. You groaned at the white hot pain that seared through your skin.

Knowing you were only down the street from the Quantico building, you took out your phone and called your Mum as you walked, as well as you could in your condition, back to the federal building.

“You home already?”

“M-Mum, c-come outside. I-I need you.” You choked out, trying to steady your breathing.

“Y/N? Are you okay?”

You could hear her shouting to the rest of her team before she continued to talk into the phone.

You made it to the entrance of the federal building but you were too overcome with exhaustion and you felt yourself drop to the floor.

You could hear shouts from the people around you as they watched blood pool around you.

“Oh my god. Y/N!”

You heard your Mum yell as she fell to your side, pressing her hands heavily against your wound.

You barely heard as Hotch called 911, stating his name and rank and urged for an ambulance to be sent immediately.

You struggled to keep your eyes open as you looked up at your Mum.

“Come on, baby. Stay awake for me.” JJ begged, tears carelessly running down her face.

“It hurts, Mum.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you’re strong. Stay with me. How’d this happen?”

JJ knew the only way to keep you awake was to continue talking so your brain could still remain active.

“H-He’s dead. He attacked me. I-In a car park. Down there.”

You weakly raised your hand and pointed towards the direction you had come from.

“Good girl. Just stay with me. You’re going to be okay. Y/N? Y/N!”

JJ screamed when she watched your eyes flutter closed as you lost consciousness.

***

“Woah, y/n. It’s just me.”

JJ said quickly when you jumped as she came up behind you to kiss your head.

It had been a few weeks since you’d been stabbed.

You’d woken up in a hospital, hooked up to all sorts of machines monitoring your heart rate. Your eyes had fallen on your mother who, once she saw you were awake, started to cry and hug you close to her. That then made you start crying and the two of you were just a pile of tears as you clung to each other.

After the tears had stopped and the doctors had checked up on you, JJ had told you that they’d found the unsub in a parking lot a few blocks from the BAU.

A couple of days after, you’d been discharged from the hospital. Your mother had stayed by your side up until this week when you had urged her to go back to work.

That had led you to now. She’d just arrived home from work and you hated that you were still on edge after your attack, despite your Mum telling you it was normal.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, honey.” JJ said softly as she came to sit beside you on the sofa.

You both sat in silence for a few moments before you spoke, your voice coming out in a whisper.

“I’m scared, Mum.”

You felt her eyes on you as she spoke, “Scared? He’s dead, y/n. He can’t hurt you.”

“I know, I just-In that moment when I fought him, I was so defenceless. And I’m scared of what will happen the next time I can’t defend myself.”

You continued, tears welling in your eyes as you stared ahead, unable to face your mother.

“Y/N,” JJ gently turned your face so she could look into your eyes.

“Am I defenceless?”

You blinked, having not expected that question. “What? No.”

“Exactly. I’m not. But I felt like it after I was kidnapped and tortured a few years ago. It’s normal to feel like that, y/n. But it’ll pass. I can promise you that.”

“It’s like I can feel him stabbing me over and over again.” You choked out, failing to force your tears back down.

“Oh, baby.”

JJ gently pulled you to her as she wrapped her arms around your body. She cradled your head against her chest as you clung to her arms, now sobbing.

“I got you, y/n. You’re safe. I got you.” She repeated, soothing you as you continued to cry.

Still hugging you against her, she kissed your head,

“As long as you have me, you’ll never be defenceless.”

[firefly-in-darkness]

Life on Hold

Pairing → Bucky Barnes x Reader

Characters → Marvel Characters

Summary → Y/N is pulled out of retirement by Fury, and Bucky is the one to break the news.

Word Count → 2.8k

Prompt → ‘You must be out of your goddamn mind’ for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ Hamilfilm Lyric Challenge 

SSB2021 Square Fill → ‘Where’s the fight?’ - @star-spangled-bingo

Warnings → 18+. Fluff, Angst, Smut. Swearing.

Betas → @daydream3r-xo​ & @fandomfic-galore​ // all mistakes are my own.

A/N → This is my first time taking part in a bingo card and what better way to kick it off than with our boy Bucky and the trifecta of angst, fluff & smut! Hope you enjoy - comments & reblogs are always adored!

Firefly’s Masterlist // Star Spangled Bingo 2021

Fury entered the conference room at Stark Tower with his usually authoritative, no bullshit attitude and the black leather jacket flowing behind him. The Avengers immediately halted their actions; Natasha and Clint gave each other a knowing side-eye, Bucky and Steve placed down their coffees while Wanda, Vision and Bruce stopped their conversation, mid-flow, to turn their attentions to the director.

“Where’s Stark?” Fury looked around for the billionaire, but he was nowhere to be seen.

A voice came through the speakers, “I’m here. Just not here, here.”

Fury turned to the camera in the corner, “Stark, I suggest you get in here now.”

“No can do boss, I’m a little tied up doing good for the community at the moment.” The Iron Man suit’s HUD display appeared in the centre of the room above the table with Stark’s signature smirk, “I’m listening.”

The holographic display changed with the flick of Fury’s hand; Stark’s face appearing in the top right corner while the other information appeared larger. A selection of blueprints for a fortified base, images of various Hydra agents and satellite footage of the surrounding area. Steve flicked through the same information on the tablet in his lap while the rest of the team continued to look at display or Fury for further instruction.

“As you can see, we have collected a lot of information about this particular base. The only problem is that we are struggling to infiltrate it. Our agents have explored every possible way to get inside but it’s becoming more obvious that whatever is happening inside that warehouse is something for the Avengers to deal with.” Fury continued as he walked around the room, hands behind his back.

“What attempts have been made?” Steve asked, the stern tone of Captain America coming through.

The Avengers watched the footage that enlarged in front of Nick Fury; a group of agents moving as one through the dense snow-covered forest until they were repelled back twenty feet.

“That’s the issue. We’ve tried to go through it, over it and under it. We can’t get in so I need the best on this,” Fury pointed at the repeated clip of the soldiers being hit with the force field, “Romanoff, Barton; get reading up on those reports, see if you can find anything that stands out. Maximoff and Vision, start looking into what that force field is and whether you remember it from your Strucker days. Stark, I need you back here for the final briefing by 1800 hours.”

The four Avengers nodded at the director and left the room. Stark disconnected and the hologram disappeared. Bucky remained silent, watching Fury’s every move while Steve reclined in the chair, spinning it towards the director.

“And what about us Sir?” Steve asked, his body tense and irritation not going unnoticed by the remaining attendees.

“I said I needed my best.” Fury pressed his hands against the back of a vacant seat, looking straight to Bucky. “There’s only one person that can help us with this one.”

Bucky’s eyes darkened and he barked in response, “No!”

“He’s right, Buck.” Steve turned to him with a small smile, “we’re going to need all the help we can get. Who knows what’s going on down there?”

“You must be out of your goddamn mind.” Bucky pushed the chair back forcefully and walked to the door, yanking it open. He paused looking back at Steve and Fury, “and I guess, I’m going to be the one to break the news, aren’t I?”

The bell above the door chimed as Bucky entered the florist; he was hit with a multitude of colours and smells that were incredible but the one thing that stood out most to him was the woman tucked between sunflowers and dahlias with an older gentleman. His heart raced at Y/N’s beaming smile as she gathered up the flowers and rang up the cost on the register.

Bucky preoccupied himself with the assortment of blooms and the trinkets scattered around the small shop while she continued to chat with the gentleman, he tried not to listen in to the conversation, but he had to gauge her mood before he approached her, not that she didn’t already know he was there.

“Mr Lee, you cannot make those eyes at me when you’re buying flowers for your wife!” Y/N laughed, “send her my best and that I’ll see her on Sunday for the bake sale.”

“You’ll realise that I’m the one for you sooner or later.” The man waved and passed Bucky, leaving the shop with another jingle of the bell.

Bucky had watched the man leave as he thought of how impressed he was with the way Y/N had settled into this town after a few months. He’d always been impressed with the woman that had managed to retire and find her feet so seamlessly. 

Without turning around, Bucky knew that she was now behind him and her hands would be placed on her hips, a sideways pout on her lips as she waited for him to pay her attention.

“Seeing as we only saw each other on Thursday, Buck, and if someone had died, you’d have called, what could you possibly need on this wonderful Sunday afternoon? Did you miss me that much?” She giggled but then she saw the seriousness in his face once he’d turned around. “Shop closes in an hour; I’ll be up in a bit.”

Bucky felt guilty for dimming the sparkle in Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, she was silent with a blank expression as she unlocked the door leading to her apartment. He’d never experienced the receiving end of the anger that was smothering the atmosphere. Of course, he’d witnessed it aimed at others but never at this level towards himself. 

Y/N kicked off her trainers and untied her apron, slamming it down on the kitchen table. Her fingers clenched around the fabric, and her jaw ticked before she turned to Bucky. He leaned against the door frame and explained how she needed to come out of retirement for a mission, giving her the details about the force field that the SHIELD agents were unable to penetrate.

Bucky waited for Y/N to speak, he learnt long ago that he had to leave her to process whatever it was that was racing through her mind. Y/N had her back to him, one hand gripping the counter and the other holding tightly onto the knife that she’d retrieved to chop vegetables. She turned around and opened her mouth, only for no words to come out and for her to continue preparing dinner. 

The pain and fear that flicked across her features were motivation enough for Bucky to get closer, he strode over and placed his hands on her hips. He felt the tension drop from her body at his touch, a sense of pride swelled as she leant her back into his chest.

“It’s been 113 days since I left. You can’t come here and ask this of me.” Y/N’s voice cracked, and her eyes glossed over as she waved the knife around in front of her, the peppers no longer being diced. 

Bucky’s fingers held her wrist to stop the kitchen utensil from turning into a weapon and rest his chin on her shoulder, “I know doll, but you know why I was sent and not Steve or Fury himself.”

“Yeah, ‘cos they know y’all sweet talk me ‘round.” She scoffed and dropped the knife down with a clatter, turning in his arms to look at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck and fingers threaded through the loose strands while a smirk crept up her face, “and they knew that I wouldn’t castrate you either.”

Bucky chuckled and nudged his nose against hers before their lips lightly brushed one another, a soft peck and Y/N unravelled and continued with prepping the food. Stirring the partly prepared sauce heating on the stove, Bucky watched her form soften but he knew that it would be short-lived.

“Where’s the fight?” She whispered, as if she already knew but didn’t want to believe it.

“Poland.” He slipped back and took a seat at the kitchen table, knowing that she would turn around in an instant with another burst of anger. 

And as if on cue, Y/N threw a tomato at the wall to her left, the juices staining the neutral paint as it slid down. She whirled around and pointed the wooden spoon at him, “I can’t believe those jerks! They don’t even have the balls to talk to me themselves and instead, they send my lovely, innocent and ridiculously handsome boyfriend to woo me into returning to the field.”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call myself innocent.” Bucky tried to lighten the mood, but it had the opposite effect.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Y/N paced the length of the kitchen in a few steps before spinning around and walking back again. Defeated with the inevitable of visiting the country she grew up in, she collapsed on Bucky’s lap. “What about my shop? Do they not realise that I have a business to run? I’m not an Avenger, I'm just an ordinary civilian.”

“You’re everything but ordinary.” His arms pulled Y/N closer to him, her head burrowing under his chin, “It’s okay sweetheart, Diane can run the place in your absence, she knows what she’s doing. We’ll be gone a week at most. I made sure to get a month of vacation off afterwards so we can do this place up.”

Y/N’s head snapped up, bashing Bucky’s chin making him bite the inside of his cheek. The blood filled his mouth, but he swallowed it down and cupped her face at the sight of the unshed tears in her eyes.

“Really? Do you mean that? Because being with you for one night every two weeks is horrible.” Her bottom lip poked out and Bucky wobbled it with his index finger.

“Yes, of course, doll.” He smiled and pressed a light kiss to her forehead.

“Hold up!” Y/N pulled away from him, her hands pressed firmly into his chest, “you’re sweet talkin’ me, aren’t you?”

“Nothing gets past you.” Bucky’s head fell back as the laughter rumbled through his chest and Y/N stood up. He swatted her butt cheek, “get a move on with dinner, we have to leave in an hour.”

“James Buchanan Barnes!” She spun around, a feigned look of shock and her hand clutched to her chest. Her agape mouth dropped into a smirk as she leant forward, rubbing her nose against his. “If you’re still into this sweet talkin’ thing…” 

Y/N spun on her heel and with a sway of her hips, wandered to the door. She looked back over her shoulder, “well, are you coming or what?”

Bucky was on his feet in seconds, chasing her down the corridor. Giggles filled the apartment as he wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her into the air. He fell backwards onto the bed, dropping her to his side gracefully. 

Both looked at the other, full of smiles and breathless from the short jog. The contrast of cold metal against Y/N’s warm cheek sent a shiver down her spine, and the way Bucky focused on her lips filled her core with want. The laughter died down and desire took over, as their faces inched closer and until they were ghosting over each other’s lips.

“Thought I had to sweet talk you, doll?” Bucky mumbled against Y/N’s parted mouth; his beard scratched deliciously against her.

In retaliation, she pushed on top of him, straddling his waist and feeling the rough texture of the tactical gear hidden beneath the hoodie, “well, what can I see, could never resist a man in Kevlar.”

Y/N ducked down and pressed a light peck to Bucky’s lips. He immediately took control, his hand holding the back of her head and deepening the kiss while his hardening groin rubbed against her clothed sex.

All thoughts of the mission and Poland disappeared with each item of clothing they discarded. Their minds focused on bringing the other to the edge of ecstasy with every kiss, lick, and stroke. Their bodies hummed with desire and need, entangled together above the sheets.

Bucky pinned Y/N to the bed, holding her hands above her head in his grip while he peppered kisses down her neck, and across her now beautifully exposed body. His hold loosened as he neared her sensitive parts, the mewling sounds above him sent repeated shocks of pleasure to his already stiff member.

Y/N couldn’t handle the wait any longer, her hips tilting up towards in demand of his mouth. It was oh so close but still far away from her bundle of nerves, “please Bucky, I need you.”

Not one to disappoint or let his girl beg for too long, Bucky teased her drenched cunt with his fingertips. She whimpered in response, pride swelled in his chest and pushed him to lick a stripe through her lips, tongue swirling over her clit.

“Fuck” Y/N stuttered out; one hand tugged on his locks while the other palmed her breasts.

Bucky moaned, the vibrations pushing Y/N closer to her orgasm. He continued to eat her cunt with ferocity. Bucky always marvelled at how he’d almost cum from the sounds of her moans and the taste of her pleasure. His cock ached as he rubbed the precum across his tip and gripped his shaft to hold off his orgasm until he felt the friction of her tight cunt, until he was deep inside her.

Kisses lightly pressed along her thighs and her stomach; Bucky didn’t miss a single spot, blemish or scar on her body. Her body glowed in the post-orgasmic haze, her fingers softly stroking through his locks as he hovered above her.

Bucky faltered when he saw her eyes glistened with unshed tears and the tremble of her lip, “Doll, what’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

“Oh, sweet man,” Y/N cupped his cheek, his head resting into her palm, “of course not. I’m just scared of going back. Of losing myself to my past. Of losing you.”

Bucky let go of the breath he held, a small piece of him was glad that he hadn’t done anything to hurt the precious person lying beneath him but the rest of him filled with the need to pull her into his arms and tell her everything would be okay. And that is what he did.

He rolled to her side, gathered her up in his hold and pressed soft kisses to the top of her head, “I can’t promise that it won’t be hard. Going back there, to those monsters. But I can promise you that you won’t lose me. I’ll be with you every step of the way, like you have been there for me.”

Y/N clung to Bucky’s waist; her legs entwined with his while she let the tears flow. Her fear subsided with each drop, the caress of Bucky’s fingers along her arm and the sweet nothings he whispered into her ear.

Y/N packed her bag while Bucky returned to the kitchen to fix her something to eat. Even though he had developed incredible hearing, he couldn’t make out the Ukrainian words that she mumbled in between ‘Steve’ and ‘Fury’ or the slams of the bedroom furniture. But what he did know was that they weren’t going to be any terms of endearment to her former superiors.

Minutes later, Y/N had returned with an outfit change and dropped the holdall to her feet. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest and a blush heated his cheeks as she winked at him. Even after all this time, seeing her in the black uniform always sent his heart racing and Y/N knew exactly how he felt about the uniform.

They ate the meal in silence as Y/N scanned the details on the tablet, both now brought up to speed with the latest developments from Natasha’s intel; alien technology being sold across the black market. What’s new. Bucky rolled his eyes at the information, there was always some bad guy with a bunch of weaponry, that they didn’t understand, trying to use it for evil.

Once again, Y/N disappeared into other parts of the apartment while Bucky loaded his black truck with her holdall and waited for her arrival in the cab. She hopped into the passenger seat and appeared calm, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he should prepare to duck for cover when they arrived at the briefing room.

Luckily for Bucky, Natasha and Clint pulled him aside to go over their new findings. Not so lucky for Steve and Fury, who would have to deal with the wrath of the retired Avenger.

Everything Tag List: @kitkatd7​ / @fandomfic-galore​ / @writerwrites​ / @thefridgeismybestie​ / @avantgardium-leviosa*

Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers​ / @little-baby-vixen​ / @stuckonjbbarnes​ / @starlightcrystalline​ / @nekoannie-chan​ / @hailhydra920​ / @vollzeitliebe​ / @fitzsimmons-is-forever​

*unable to tag

If you would like to be added to my taglist then drop me an ask

[weelittleweasley]

Rules and Responsibilities | Fred x Reader

Prompt as requested by anon: Umbridge’s reign has taken its toll on the students of Hogwarts, especially you. Since her arrival, it seems like she has had a personal vendetta against some students in particular, you being one of them Falling victim to the brunt of Umbridge’s punishments, you try your best to keep your injuries a secret to most, especially that of your boyfriend, Fred. When Fred sees you talking more to Draco, your housemate, Fred’s jealousy rises and curiosity gets the best of him. What’s going on?

Warnings: cruel punishments of Umbridge, blood, scars, language

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: This was such a fun prompt! Thank you to the sweet ‘nonnie who sent it in! Xo

The nauseating color of bubblegum pink whisked down the hall, doling out orders before waving her wand as Filch ran behind her, trying to keep the pace. Students glared at the woman they begrudgingly called Head Master. Dolores Umbridge was a curse on Hogwarts, that was for certain. New rules were placed daily which limited the students to just studying and breathing. There was no room for relaxing or fun. A place where everyone once loved became miserable for all.

Not only were Umbridge’s rules unnecessary and pointless, her punishments for breaking her rules were uncalled for and cruel. You had first saw it on Harry Potter’s hand, scar that read I must not tell lies. He brushed it off as it was nothing, but you knew that this woman was a monster in pink. The most horrifying part about it all is that you didn’t know when her reign would end. 

But Harry wasn’t the only receiving cruel punishments like this. You sat down in your Defense Against the Dark Arts class, next to your housemate, Draco. The two of you had a certain distaste for this class, even more so now that Umbridge was the professor. As you sat back in the class, you constantly checked your wristwatch, hoping that it would be over soon so you could bust out of the classroom, do your prefect duties, and meet your boyfriend at the Black Lake. 

“How long is this class again?” you groan to Draco quietly, earning a small smile from him, him trying to stifle a chuckle. “Seriously. We aren’t learning a damned thing and you expect me to sit here and do nothing?”

“Something to add, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Umbridge's voice reverberates in the classroom. In that moment, everyone shifts in their seats to look at you at the back of the classroom. You had been caught. You gulp as you mouth goes dry and Draco just smirks, knowing that you were in trouble now. Finally, it wasn’t him for once.

You couldn’t let Umbridge know that she made you nervous or scared. Instead, you swallowed your fears and calmly replied, “Nothing from me, Professor. Continue.” Your reply was polite, but had a certain kind of snarky tone that made Umbridge’s skin crawl with frustration. She gave you an angry smile and you knew that you had gotten under her skin. But the conversation wasn’t going to stop here.

She starts to walk from the front of the classroom to the back where you sat, relaxed in your chair. Draco looks at you with fear for you in his eyes. “I’ll determine when it’s appropriate for me to continue the lesson,” she simply states, her heels clicking as she slowly walks towards you like a ticking time bomb. “Maybe I should rephrase my statement. You should share what you were saying to Mr. Malfoy with the rest of class. I’m sure it was something very important since you couldn’t wait until the end of the class to talk. Not only are you wasting my time, but your classmates time.”

The false sweetness in her voice made your stomach churn and blood boil. This woman was a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Yet you maintained your poise. You smooth out your Slytherin robes and simply speak. “I would love to share,” you sit up, much to Draco and Umbridge’s surprise. “I was just telling Draco that we haven’t learned a damned thing in this class. We have not learned a single thing about magic in the class, so how do you expect us to properly defend ourselves in the face of evil?” you spit.

The students in the class immediately erupt into chatter, knowing that you were right. No one was learning how to protect themselves, especially if He was back. You were speaking the truth that everyone was afraid to speak of. Draco sat next to you with a proud smile on his face, but he kept quiet and simply looked down at his hands. 

Umbridge on the other hand was infuriated by your words. “Well,” she breathed out, eyes burning into yours as a mischievous smile danced across your cherry red lips. “There is no need for you to use magic when there is no direct threat. Not to mention, this class is teaching you very valuable life lessons. Maybe if you listened to my lessons rather than chatting with Mr. Malfoy, you would understand that.”

“Maybe if you taught something worth listening to, I would listen,” you sharply retort earning some ooohs and laughs from your housemates as other students from other houses chatter, laugh, or even clap. Your heart swells with pride at the sight and you smile devilishly at the professor who is shaken at the sight before you.

Umbridge looks around her at the mess of students cheering at your outburst. She musters up a sentence over the cheering crowd and speaks, “That’s quite enough!” Her exclamation makes students stop talking and clapping, slowly dissolving into silence again. “Miss (Y/L/N), you have earned yourself two weeks of detention. After this class, you will report directly to my office.”

She scurries back to the front of the classroom to continue her lecture as you just roll your eyes and sit back in your chair, folding your arms across your chest. Draco looks at you with worried eyes, Now you’ve really done it. You shake your head and scoff, trying to blow off his and your anxieties. You knew what the woman was capable of, but you had to keep your mind from wondering what punishment she would dole out to you. But you couldn’t help it as your palms started to sweat and mouth became dry. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

-------

Like she had instructed, you knocked on Umbridge’s office door after class, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. Before you left, Draco looked at you scared, asking if you’d be alright. He knew of what Umbridge had done to other students. Even though he hadn’t suffered from those punishments, he knew that students had horror stories of her. You insisted that you would be fine, when in reality you were going mental over the situation. 

But it was too late now. Her voice chimed in from the other side of the door to come in. As you pushed the door open, you stood in the door way as she falsely smiled at you. “Ah, Miss (Y/L/N),” she sighed. “So you can follow direction. Splendid. Close the door and take a seat.”

Obeying her request, you shut the door and sit on the chair next to the desk in her office. Your heart is thumping at a mile a minute. Your confidence from before is gone and you can’t stop thinking about what is going to happen. There was no escaping now. 

She places a quill on your desk and a sheet of parchment. You knew where this was going. You remember Harry talking about this in the Great Hall. Now it was happening to you. Fear flooded your head and you tried to keep your breathing steady and even.

“Now,” Umbridge starts. “I want you to write, I will not speak out of line. The whole sentence. Whenever you’re ready.”

You look at the quill and take a deep breath before picking it up. You hand shook as you carried it to the parchment, gulping nervously. You had to do this. If you didn’t, who knows what Umbridge would do to you. “No ink?” you shakily asked, knowing exactly what the quill did and how it wrote, but asking the question any way to confirm your fears.

Without looking at you, Umbridge says, “No need. Again, whoever you’re ready. The whole sentence. Just once. Then you can be dismissed.”

“But Professor, I’m Head Girl. I’m going to be late for my duties,” you try to get out of your punishment. But you weren’t lying. You were a prefect which meant that you certain responsibilities you had to take care of after class. If you stayed here, you would certainly be late for those duties and you would be stripped of your title.

“The quicker you start, the quicker you can leave and accomplish your prefect duties with no problem, Miss (Y/L/N),” she simply states. 

There was no escape. She wasn’t going to let you leave until you did what needed to be done. You take a deep breath and think, The quicker you do it, the quicker it’ll be over. With that, you start to write across the parchment and your hand starts to sting badly, like someone took a needle and was carving into it. You ignore the sensation and drag the quill across the parchment faster, which only makes the sensation grow and burn and itch more. You let out a pained groan as you suck in a breath through gritted teeth. Keep going, it’s almost over. You continue to scribble and tears start to prick at your eyes as you painfully drag the quill across the parchment. 

Finally done, you slam the quill down and look at your hand. Etched into your skin is I will not speak out of line just like it was on the paper. You look at Umbridge, swallowing the lump in your throat and standing up from your seat. “I’m done,” you speak dully. 

She smiles and speak, “Wonderful. You are dismissed. You will be back here again at the same time for the next two weeks. Have a lovely evening, Miss (Y/L/N).”

Not saying another word, you storm out of her office and down the stairs, scurrying to the Slytherin common room to meet Draco for your prefect duties. This was absolutely absurd. She couldn’t get away with this. A professor physically hurting students? This was cruel. The punishment did not fit the crime. She made Professor Snape look pleasant. 

You burst into the Slytherin common room, Draco waiting for you by the couch. He immediately stands up when you enter, not bothering asking why you were a couple of minutes late. There was no time for teasing you. He was more concerned about if you were alright. But before he could ask you what happened, you held up a hand to get him to stop talking. “I really don’t feel like talking about it. I just wanna get my duties done so I can go see Fred.” The thought of seeing your boyfriend instantly made you feel better, but you knew that you couldn’t tell him what happened. Fred had a bad tempter when it came to you and you knew that if you told him what Umbridge did, he would blow a gasket. 

Draco grabs your hand and examines it, looking at the fresh scars on your hand, blood traced on them. “(Y/N)...” he starts. “I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head, “I don’t need your pity, Draco, I’m fine. Where are the first years?” 

He sighs, “I already took care of it. I didn’t know how long you were going to be, so I dealt with it.” You groan and put your head in your hands, feeling guilty that you left Draco with the bulk of the work of the head boy and girl duties. “It’s no worries, (Y/N). I didn’t expect you to get out of Umbridge’s detention to do your prefect duties.” 

“That’s the thing, Malfoy. I don’t want you to expect me to be a slacker ‘cause of what I did in class that earned me detention. I’m supposed to be head girl. I was given this position for a reason. There’s a certain image I’m supposed to maintain. I have rules and responsibilities like the rest of the students here,” you ramble as Draco grabs your sides.

He looks at you, “You can take a break. If this whole fucking thing with Umbridge makes you late for the next two weeks, it’s no problem. The first years are easy. I can sign off on your duties so there will be nobody suspect. Alright?” You sigh, thankful for Draco’s kindness that came once in a blue moon. “Now, go, run along with your Weasel-bee.”

You roll your eyes and slap his arm, thanking him before running off to the Black Lake. As you ran out of the castle and down to the Lake, excitement replaced the anxiety in your chest. Seeing your boyfriend was always something to look forward to. You and Fred had been dating for almost seven months and yet each day he made it feel like the first day you met. Being with Fred was exciting; he likes hanging around, crackling jokes, and laughing. He was a breath of fresh air. You loved the bloke. People gave you shit for dating the older Gryffindor, but that didn’t stop you; it just made things more exciting. 

Soon enough, the red head’s figure came into sight which made you smile. You remembered about the scars on your hands and quickly dug into your pockets and pulled out the leather gloves you had gotten from Draco last week after placing a bet on a quidditch match. You covered your scarred hand and sighed, hating keeping secrets from Fred, but you knew it had to be done.

“There’s my angel,” he smiles as you approach him, him scooping you up in a tight hug. You smile brightly as he places a sweet kiss on your lips, smiling into the kiss. He pulls away and asks, “You’re late. Everything alright?”

You already felt guilty and you haven’t even said anything yet. “Yeah, prefect duties just took longer than I had anticipated,” you brushed it off, giving him another kiss. He squeezes your frame closer to his body, holding you close. Even though you saw each other everyday, Fred missed you. You didn’t have any classes together, him being older than you, so when you did spend time together, he cherished every moment, every smile, every kiss, every glance. You were Fred’s whole world. When you came into Fred’s life, he didn’t realize how much he needed someone like you. Someone who could keep up with his banter, challenge him, balance him out. You were made for him and Fred loved you with his whole heart. “I missed you today,” you tell him, wiping your lip gloss off of Fred’s lips as he kisses your glove covered thumb. He furrows his brows at your covered hands. “I’m cold. Plus I just won these from Malfoy,” you laugh.

Fred smiles, “’Atta girl. I missed you, darling. Come, I wanna tell you about an idea that George and I had for a new product. It’s brilliant.”

Fred’s cluelessness about your detention sat with you uncomfortably, but in a way it was for the best. He got your mind off of the bad things and let you focus on the happiness in your life. Listening to Fred talk about him and George’s up and coming business and the ideas for products made your heart swell with love. You felt badly lying to him, but you did it to protect him from the unfortunate truth. You were sure he would do the same if he was in your shoes.

--------

As the week went on, you had more detentions with Umbridge and they were getting worse. When your scars would fade, she would make you write again with her special quill and new ones would erupt. She would make you clean her office, sort parchment and other files, and yet continue to make you late for prefect duties. You would tell her that you were late and yet she gave you the same excuse. “The quicker you work, the quicker you get to leave,” she would say cheerily which just made your blood boil. 

In turn, Draco would take on more of your prefect duties due to your detentions. You would run from detention to find that he had accomplished everything already, earning a frustrated groan from you and laugh from Draco. He would just give you a tight side hug and tell you that it would all be okay. Even though you knew he would use this as leverage when he wanted something out of you next week. 

But with the detentions and prefect duties, you had put your hang outs and meet ups with Fred on pause. It made you sad to do so because Fred was your happiness, but if you didn’t take care of what you needed to, you would surely get yourself into more trouble than you had signed up for. That being said, Fred started to get suspicious of why you suddenly put your relationship on hold. 

After prefect meetings became a rarity now, most of your encounters were just passing each other on the moving staircases or in the Great Hall for meals. He started to become worried that you were becoming bored or annoyed with him. Fred would try to pull you aside to talk to you or steal a quick, but you always managed to find an excuse about how you couldn’t stay longer.

“I have to go, Freddie. I have prefect duties to take care of,” you would simply say, stroking his cheek before placing a quick kiss on his lips. 

Before you could turn away, he would grab your hand. “What about after class? Do you wanna meet at the lake?” he would try to get you to be with him. “I feel like it’s been ages since we got to be together alone,” he confesses. His heart yearned for your attention and love. He needed to know now more than ever that you still loved him.

Sighing, guilt rose in your throat at the words that were going to come out of your mouth. After class, you had detention. Your last one with Umbridge. If you missed it, she would surely give you month’s worth of detention. “I really can’t, I have responsibilities to follow, Freddie,” you say, trying not to give much away.

Fred’s heart sank as you told him what he least wanted to hear. “Fine, I understand,” he huffed. “Couldn’t you just tell Malfoy to cover for you for once? The guy’s a prick, but he can cover you for one day, can’t he?”

You lightly laughed. If only Fred knew. “That would be asking too much,” you lie through your teeth. “I have to go now, but I promise I’ll see you soon, okay?” you look at him, genuinely searching his eyes to know that he understood. He just gives you a sad smile and nods his head. “I love you.”

Before he can respond, you were gone, disappeared down the halls. As you left, Fred couldn’t help but feel off. You were hiding something from him and he was going to get to the bottom of it. He was not going to be lied to about something when it came to your relationship of all things. 

Fred started down the halls, down the staircases to the dungeons, to the Slytherin common room. He knew that you would surely be there of all places. But there was no need to even make it to the entrance. Right outside of the entrance, you stood with Draco as Fred ducked behind a wall, watching the encounter.

“This is the last time, I swear,” you tell Draco who just shakes his head.

“I know, (Y/N), you made that very clear this morning, and then again at lunch, and just now. You know I don’t mind, but you’ll have to pay me back in some way,” Draco smirks as you slap his shoulder, rolling your eyes, earning a laugh from him. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. No one’s gonna know that we did this in the first place.”

To you, this sounded like a normal conversation between you and Draco. But to Fred, this sounded horribly. Were you cheating on him with Draco? Were you sneaking around with him, not trying to get caught by anyone? It made sense, the two of you being prefects, you spent a lot of time together.

Fred couldn’t bare the sight of this anymore. He left as quickly and as quietly as he came, his heart sunk into his stomach, but anger that welled up in his chest at Malfoy was palpable. If he ever saw him in the halls alone, Draco was in for a nasty treat from Fred.

You left your short meeting with Draco and braced yourself for your last detention with Umbridge. As you walked to her office, the guilt of lying to Fred was weighing on you more than ever today. Fred looked so disappointed and so sad when you had spoke to him and when you told him you couldn’t see him much today, he looked crush. You didn’t want to give him the impression that you didn’t want to be with him or avoided hanging out with him. In fact, it was quite the opposite. You would spent every waking moment with your love if you could. But you couldn’t swell on the situation too much or else it would make you more miserable than you already were. 

---------

“Alright, Miss (Y/L/N),” Umbridge smiles as you sit at the desk, hand stinging from the pain of writing more lines on her parchment. “You’ve served your two weeks diligently. Have you learned your lesson?” 

You glare at the woman dressed in cheery pink, contrary to her personality. “Yes, ma’am,” you speak with unfaltering eye contact. Bitch. “Since I’ve done my time and done it all perfectly, can I go now?” you give a sarcastic smile.

Umbridge sits behind her desk. “As long as you have learned your lesson, you may leave,” she says as you immediately rise from the desk and grab your book bag. “Before you go Miss (Y/L/N),” she stops you, “you should know, since you’re a prefect, that order is imperative to create a diligent work environment. I will have order. Do I make myself clear?”

Opening the door without a single care, you speak, “Crystal,” before slamming it closed and leaving the wench’s quarters. “Finally,” you breathe out as you leave that wing of the castle, walking through the halls feeling relived that you detention sentence was over. Now you could finally get back on track with your prefect duties and spending more quality time with Fred. 

As you walk the halls, you hear what seems like younger kid crying alongside with a familiar voice comforting them. Turning the corner, you see a young Gryffindor boy rubbing his eyes, probably a first year. Sat next to him was your Fred, he hand his arm around the small boy, trying to comfort him. The sight made your heart swell. Fred was always so good with the younger kids, which just made you fall more in love with him. “It’s all awful, mate, I know,” Fred speaks to the small boy who is cuddled up next to Fred now. “Umbridge is terrible, everyone knows that. But you can’t let her uptight, nasty behavior get the best of you. We can still make the most out of this. She won’t last long, trust me,” he rubs the small boy’s back.

The boy looks up at Fred, eyes red and teary eyed. “I don’t want her to hurt me like she did to Harry Potter,” he sniffles. “She’s so mean. Why, Fred?”

Fred wished he knew the answer to the poor boy’s question. “Because some people are born evil. That’s the way some people are. It’s terrible, but we can try our best to show them the good. You understand?” Fred looks at the child as he nods. 

Before Fred can say anything else, you appear from down the hall and speak, “She’s not as tough as you think.” Fred looks at you and gulps. He didn’t know how to feel. Were you still seeing Malfoy? Were you going to break up with him? Should he break up with you? “Umbridge is nasty, sure, but she’s not invincible,” you walk over to where the boy is sat on the bench with Fred. “Do you wanna know a secret?” you ask the small boy, who is a little weary of you and your Slytherin robes. He looks to Fred for comfort and approval to which Fred offers his a soft smile and a gentle nod, letting him know that you were to be trusted. The child looks back at you and nods, rubbing his nose. Slowly, you show him your gloved hand before pulling the glove off to reveal your scar from punishments with Umbridge. 

The child’s eyes go wide and Fred looks at you mouth agape in shock. “(Y/N), what is going on? What happened?”

You ignore Fred for a moment and look at the child. “Umbridge did this to me. I know it looks bad and that’s because it is. But she taught me that I want to be nothing like her. She’s cruel and nasty and sick and twisted. She taught me that I want to fight harder against her and everything she stands for,” you tell the boy. “If she wants order, then I want chaos. I won’t settle for anything else.” This makes the small boy giggle. “We can follow her silly rules, but at the end of the day, we fight back against her and against her wayward system. So, you just follow alongside your other first years and when the time comes, we fight back. Sound good?” 

The small boy nods and gives you a smile. “Thank you,” he softly speaks looking at you and Fred. 

“Now, run back to your dormitory. It’s past curfew. We don’t need any more trouble, darling,” you tell the child as he nods his head and scurries down the hall back to his room as you instructed.

You and Fred were now alone on the bench, your scarred hand resting in your lap as you looked at Fred who’s eyes were fixed on your hand. “Darling, what is going on?” Fred nervously asked you. Fred never really let you see him scared because he wanted to be strong for you. But this was genuinely terrifying to him. 

Scooting closer to your boyfriend you tell him everything. “I spoke out of line in class two weeks ago. Umbridge gave me two week’s detention and this has been my punishment. Like Harry’s. She has a special quill that writes in the person’s blood and leaves scarring on their hand. It stings when I’m around her and the quill,” you confess. Fred looks at you, scared for you and he feels horribly that he couldn’t have been there to protect you. “The scars heal, but they hurt like hell.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he implores. “If I had known, I would have-”

“Would have what, Fred? Gotten in trouble and been in the same position as me?” you retort and that makes Fred go quiet. “I kept it a secret because I didn’t want you to worry about me. You would have done the same if it were you in my position. I stayed quiet because I didn’t think it was a big deal. I’m on student among many that’s getting punished like this, Harry included. I know it’s not right, but it’s not like we can stop it. She’s head master now.” 

Fred sighs, “I know it’s happening to a lot of students, but it’s you I care about. I want to know that you are alright. I would never forgive myself if something horrible happened to you.”

You place your hand on Fred’s cheek as he leans into your touch, melting into you. “I know, darling, but I can’t have you worried about me all the time.”

He gulps before asking the question that’s been bothering him all day. “So, the detention has gotten in your way of being with me. But...is there someone else that has gotten in your way as well?”

You furrow your brows for a moment and then it clicks. “Oh, Freddie...you mean Draco?” you question as he nods, you lightly laughing. “There is nothing going on there. He was taking over my prefect duties as I was in detention. He’s been covering for me so my responsibilities there are taken care of. It was a simple favor and that’s it. Nothing more. He’ll probably ask me to do his Potions homework for the next two weeks as recompense, but it’s alright.”

Fred lets out a large sigh of relief, relaxing that he knows all of the truth now. “Alright,” he sighs. “I just...I didn’t know if you were avoiding me or just trying to get away from me all together.”

Grabbing both of his hands, you look at him, “No, Fred. I’m so sorry that I made you feel that way. I love you so much and I never want to make you feel like that ever again. You mean the world to me and I never want you to believe that I resent you. I’m so sorry, love.”

Without saying another word, Fred kisses you with all the love he can muster up in that moment. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you close to him as you snake your arms around his neck. You sigh into the kiss as Fred’s touch makes you melt into him. His lips are gentle, but passionate against yours as he kisses you. He pulls away to look into your eyes, brushing your hair behind your ear. “I’m gonna make that bitch pay for what she did to you,” he growls as you laugh. “I’m serious. No one messes with my girl.”

“Godric, I love you, Freddie.”

[ill-skillsgard]

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

+

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

[thebonerpit]

suck it and see [FIC]

suck it and see

Rom Howney, 2749 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

Robert invites Tom over for dinner. Has his gag reflex improved? (Not me writing a sequel to this fic almost a year later...)

Five months later, and Tom is wondering what the fuck he’s gotten himself into.

After “The Call”, as he’s been referring to it, Robert has been nothing but sweet and courteous and respectful. Once the post-orgasm adrenaline faded, Tom hasn’t been able to drum up the courage to talk about what happened between them and Robert never brings it up explicitly either. It’s been months of brief text threads during quiet moments, the odd video of Robert’s cats or a photo of the sunset, and Tom getting embarrassingly hard whenever Robert says something remotely flirty. Nothing at all that suggests it might ever happen again. That is, until Tom mentions he’s going to be in L.A. for a week.

“Come see me. I’ll make you dinner.”

“YOU’LL make me dinner? Or your private chef will make me dinner?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me you little shit. Tuesday work for you?”

It doesn’t, but Tom rearranges his entire schedule to get there.

The black jeans he’s chosen are practically painted on, but in an effort to appear completely casual and unbothered he throws on a soft pastel pink hoodie and a baseball cap. No need to mention how long he takes in the shower beforehand. No need at all.

The Uber drops him off and he notes that there are no other cars to be seen, and very few lights on in the house. He didn’t even consider that they might actually be alone and now that it’s hitting him he kind of feels like throwing up. Before he can scope out the best bush to heave into, the door opens.

“I know my front yard is pretty amazing but are you going to stand out here all night?”

Oddly enough, seeing him in person, leaning against the door frame with a dish towel in one hand, Robert Downey Jr. in the flesh, actually calms him down. His brain reroutes from panic to excitement and he rushes forward to give him a tight hug, which Robert gladly returns.

“Good to see you,” he says quietly, almost directly into Tom’s ear. The closeness makes him shiver slightly but he manages to cover it with another tight squeeze before rocking back on his heels.

“Same, boss,” he says with a broad smile. Robert cocks his head and smiles back fondly before patting his cheek and stepping back into the foyer.

“Come on, it’s almost ready.”

“Are you really cooking for me?”

“Of course,” he says, like he’s offended Tom is even asking.

It smells incredible, whatever it is, and Tom removes his hat, happily perches on a bar stool, and accepts the beer Robert hands him. They chat amiably while Robert cooks, and soon Tom forgets why he was ever nervous in the first place. It’s just like how it was on set, or backstage at some industry event, joking and laughing and catching each other up on their respective lives. One of the cats jumps up and kneads at Tom’s lap for a while before padding away to search for its own dinner.

Domestic, Tom thinks briefly, before shooing that horrible thought away.

Dinner is pasta with homemade sauce and Tom devours it.

Robert raises an eyebrow as he slurps up his last noodle and Tom sheepishly hides behind his napkin as he tries to wipe off the spattering of red sauce on his cheek.

“S’really good,” he mutters, and Robert just laughs.

He helps him clean up, despite Robert’s protests. He sets the last pot on the rack to dry and turns to see Robert staring at him, a contemplative expression on his gorgeous face.

“What? More pasta sauce?” Tom asks, swiping at the corner of his lips with one thumb.

“Nah. Just looking.”

“Oh. Ok?”

Robert smirks and saunters over and Tom feels his back hit the fridge. Trapped. Nowhere to go.

“This is cute,” Robert says, tugging at the string of Tom’s hoodie. “Suits you.”

“Uh. Thanks,” Tom replies dumbly, unable to look away from Robert’s mouth. He barely catches the way Robert’s eyes flick up to his own before he looks away and exhales softly. It’s a sound of resignation, and Tom’s heart speeds up to a panicked flutter. As soon as Robert starts to back away, he snakes his arm out and grasps on to his wrist. It shocks them both and they can’t do anything but stare at each other for a moment before Tom finally caves and lets himself think with his dick.

He opens his mouth, extends his tongue slightly, and waits.

Robert’s eyes are dark, the gorgeous honey-brown devoured by his pupils, and Tom sees him swallow. He does his best to encourage him, to beg without saying a word, but when Robert still hesitates, he slowly drags his hand up to hover between them. Then he lets go of Robert’s wrist. It’s on him now, and he looks very much aware of this fact.

“You sure?” he finally rasps out. Always the gentleman, even when Tom doesn’t want him to be. He nods and sticks out his tongue even more, his eyes almost crossing at he stares at Robert’s thick fingers just inches away from his mouth.

“Have you been thinking about this?” he asks. Tom nods again and shivers as those fingers run the length of his jaw. “Yeah. Me too.”

Without warning he pushes two fingers into Tom’s mouth, dragging them across his tongue and settling them just past the second knuckle. Tom whines and starts to close his lips around them but Robert’s other hand darts up quickly to grab his chin.

“Ah-ah,” he tuts. “Did I say you could do that?”

The blood that rushes immediately downwards nearly makes Tom pass out.

Robert pets his tongue until Tom’s mouth overflows with saliva and it starts dripping down his chin and on to his hoodie.

“Such a messy boy,” Robert says. Tom gurgles out a moan which makes Robert tighten his grip on his jaw. “On your knees.”

Tom drops so fast he feels his knees crack against the marble tile. It hurts but he doesn’t even care. All he can feel is his dick hard against the zipper of his jeans and Robert’s fingers dragging through his hair.

“So pretty,” he murmurs as he lets his fingers slip out of Tom’s mouth.

Tom tries to lean in, close the distance between his mouth and the growing bulge in Robert’s jeans, but he feels those fingers tighten in his hair. He glances up and sees Robert staring down at him with an expression not dissimilar to the one he had months ago on their video call.

“If you want to stop, all you have to do is say the word.” Robert’s voice is quiet but steady. “Or pinch me really hard if your mouth is… otherwise occupied.”

Tom shudders at the implications of that.

“I need to hear you say you understand.”

“I do! I… I understand. Want this, want you, everything… anything you want,” Tom says, tripping over his words in his haste to reassure him because he thinks if Robert stops now he might actually cry.

Robert exhales sharply through his nose. “Jesus… fucking… alright. Ok. Get up, follow me.”

Tom scrambles up off the floor and follows Robert as he leads him through into what looks like a den. It’s dimly lit, thick curtains pulled closed on the windows, and the walls are lined with bookshelves. Robert pulls him down on to a plush couch and takes his jaw in his hand again, licking his lips before diving in for a searing kiss, and Tom allows himself to be devoured. He suddenly realizes that this is actually their first kiss, but before he can dwell on it too long Robert pulls back and, as gently as possible, pushes him down to the floor between his knees.

“I hope you’ve been practicing more,” Robert says as he undoes his jeans. “Show me what you can do.”

As soon as the fabric of Robert’s boxers is out of the way, Tom doesn’t hesitate. He’s been waiting for this for months and the sight of that gorgeous cock in front of him makes his mouth water. He takes the head in his mouth without preamble and the low groan that Robert lets out spurs him on to take even more. It’s a bit messy, saliva already dripping out the sides of his mouth, but if the noises Robert is making are any indication, he’s doing a pretty damn good job regardless. He feels those thick fingers curl back into his hair and only has a moment to steel himself before Robert’s hips snap up and he chokes, eyes watering immediately as the thick cock tries to force its way down his throat. He tries to relax but it doesn’t work and he has to pull away, coughing and wiping at his chin.

“S-sorry, let me… I can—”

“Shh, no, you were doing well. I shouldn’t have… couldn’t help myself.”

Fuck, he sounds wrecked already. Pride bubbles up in Tom’s stomach and he dares to look up and offer a small smile, batting his eyelashes just a little.

“Want to keep going,” he says, “please?”

Robert bites his lip and squeezes his eyes shut for a moment before shifting on the couch.

“Come up here, let me… here, just like this.” He pulls Tom up like he weighs nothing, arranges him on the couch so he’s laying on his back with his head hanging off the edge.

“It’s easier like this, sweet thing,” Robert says as he stands over him. “Opens your throat up. Do you trust me?”

“God, yes,” Tom breathes out. He knows he should behave and wait for instructions but he can’t help surging up to lick at the base of Robert’s cock, hanging heavy over his face. It makes him shudder and Tom feels a drop of precome fall on his cheek.

He sees Robert shudder and gets a gentle slap across his face as a reward.

“Brat,” he rasps out before shoving his cock down Tom’s throat.

The angle is so strange and Tom’s eyes widen with panic before he realizes that yeah, it actually is easier like this? Once you get used to the whole upside-down part. He trusts Robert to hold his head as he relaxes his muscles, letting his throat go slack and just accepting every thick inch he gets.

There’s a bitten-out curse as Tom feels his nose press against Robert’s balls.

“Give me—fuck, your hand,” Robert says. He obeys, immediately, and Robert brings it up to wrap around Tom’s own throat. “Can you feel it?”

Tom nearly shoots off right then and there as Robert moves and oh my fucking god yes he can feel it. The thick line of Robert’s cock is stretching his throat out and he gurgles out a moan around it which makes it twitch against his hand.

“Such a pretty little cocksucker,” he grunts. Tom bucks his hips into the air, desperate for friction, Robert’s dirty words turning him on more than he could have ever imagined.

“Look at you… you want to touch yourself, hm?”

Tom can’t answer so he just whines and wiggles his hips again which causes Robert to grunt and jerk forward which in turn causes Tom to choke and gag again. Robert immediately pulls out and pets the side of Tom’s head while he inhales shakily, catching his breath.

“Ok?” he asks, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s swollen bottom lip.

“Yeah… ok.” Tom is shocked by the sound of his own voice, raw and scratchy and thick. Thank fucking god he doesn’t have to work for the next little while. “More?”

Robert chuckles and leans down to kiss along the side of his neck. “Want to see you come with my dick down your throat. Can you do that for me?”

“Fuck… fuck, yeah, yeah I can do that.” He scrabbles at the buttons and zippers on his jeans and shoves them down to mid-thigh along with his boxers. His hoodie is already a mess, covered in his own spit, but he pulls it up his chest anyway. If this also happens to show off his cut abs and pink nipples, well, it’s just a bonus. He hears Robert groan softly and then suddenly his field of vision is eclipsed by a furred stomach as Robert leans over him to kiss at his chest, his hipbones, and fuck, Robert’s mouth is on his dick.

“Ohmygod,” he slurs, digging his nails into the fabric of the couch as an incredibly skilled tongue laves up and down his erection. He can feel the bristle of Robert’s beard on his thighs and it sends electric shivers through his body.

“Tastes so good,” Robert murmurs, licking up one side and then sucking on the head briefly before letting Tom’s cock fall back against his stomach with a loud slap. Tom whimpers – actually whimpers – as Robert pushes himself back upright and he can see the cocky smirk on his face even from this strange angle.

“There, made it nice and wet for you. Go on sweetheart, show me how pretty you look when you come, hm?”

Tom doesn’t have time to answer as Robert slides his cock back into his throat. The sensation of that alone makes his eyes roll back in his head but now that he has permission to touch himself, he doesn’t hesitate. The slickness from Robert’s saliva eases the way for his own hand as he jerks himself off quickly, no patience for finesse or teasing, just pure need racing through his veins. He gets close embarrassingly fast, partly thanks to the steady stream of filth that Robert is muttering above him.

“That’s it, just like that baby, so fucking pretty aren’t you? You like having a nice fat dick down your throat, hm? Yeah, I know you do, look at you, just made for it, fuck, yeah, keep touching yourself, keep jerking that pretty cock sweetheart, make a mess of yourself for me, come on, come on, let me see you…”

It’s relentless and Tom can’t get enough. He doesn’t want it to end, quite frankly, but he’s teetering right on the edge and when Robert simultaneously shoves himself as deep as he can go and squeezes a hand around his throat he jerks violently and comes all over himself. It’s the most powerful orgasm he’s ever had and his body feels like it will never stop convulsing. It’s only when he finally relaxes enough to try to catch his breath that he realizes that he can’t actually breathe at all. Robert is still buried deep in his throat, grinding his hips against his face like Tom is just a warm, wet hole to be used. It sends a brief flutter of panic through him, but it also makes his spent cock twitch against his stomach. Robert is grunting and Tom feels drops of sweat landing on his chest, mixing with the cooling puddles of come. He must be close. He has to be. He needs to be or Tom is going to actually pass out.

He’s just about to raise his hand to pinch Robert’s thigh when he feels a rush of warmth slide down his throat. It’s so deep he can’t even taste it until Robert pulls out and lets the rest drip all over his mouth and face. As Tom gasps for breath Robert maneuvers him into a sitting position and rubs at his back, soothing him as he coughs and sniffles and wipes at the absolute mess on his face with his ruined hoodie. When he finally settles a bit he can hear Robert murmuring to him.

“Such a good boy… such a good boy, sweetheart, you did so well, that’s it, deep breaths…”

Tom sniffles again and blinks up at Robert’s face. He smiles softly.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Feeling ok?”

Tom nods. His throat is killing him but he doesn’t want to make Robert feel bad about it. Plus, he asked for it and he doesn’t know if it makes him a little fucked up in the head for liking it.

“I… I want…”

“Shh, don’t try to talk now. Let me get you some water. You…” Robert pauses. He leans in and kisses Tom’s forehead almost chastely. “You were incredible. Just sit. Let me take care of you.”

Tom smiles again and nestles into the crook of Robert’s neck, sated and content.

[storiesforallfandoms]

proud ~ cillian murphy

word count: 2015

request?: yes!

@shady80smusicsingercolor​ “The reader was always tried to get them proud,but nothing,one day the reader remembers their parents how they were never supportive or proud,the reader cried, cillian was passing by their dressing room,he stop cuz he heard the faithful tears,he came in,he ask what's wrong,and the reader explain how their parents never were proud of them but their siblings yeah,and ask him"what's wrong with me"and cillian reassures the reader nothing wrong with them but with their parents yeah,he told the reader he was Damm proud of them”

description: when you’re reminded of your rough childhood, your co-star is there to lift you up when you’re feeling down

pairing: cillian murphy x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angst

masterlist

You were in the middle of taking a picture of yourself in your costume when your phone buzzed. A notification at the top of the screen read that you had you were tagged in a post on Facebook, by your mum.

You cringed, immediately knowing what it would be.

A picture of your mum, dad, and sister sat around a table at a restaurant popped up on your screen. The caption for it read, “A special dinner for our beautiful daughter, who just scored another win on a case!” As per usual, she had tagged your dad, your sister, and you. Not because they wished you were there, but to remind you of your sister’s accomplishments and their pride in them.

Your parents made it very clear at a young age that your sister was the favourite child. They had a vision for the future of their kids, one that included a high paying job and eventually a family, and your sister was the one to follow this vision, in their eyes anyways.

Your sister was a straight A student all throughout her school years, and was accepted into law school with a full scholarship right out of high school. You, on the other hand, found yourself falling in love with acting. You were in drama club all through school and often starred in the school plays and musicals. When you graduated high school you were accepted into one of the biggest art schools, and of course you went.

Your parents were less than enthusiastic about your path, even after your acting career took off. They viewed acting as not being  a “real job” and often ridiculed you, comparing you to your sister or reminding you of your sister’s accomplishments at every opportunity.

You took a deep breath to calm yourself. You had to remind yourself that just because your parents weren’t proud of you didn’t mean you should be so hard on yourself. You had a successful career, you were happy as an actress. You weren’t going to let them bring you down.

You went to the family group chat to send a congratulatory message to your sister, one that your parents would see and realize they weren’t going to get to you this time.

“Congrats on your case win sis!”

Your sister responded a moment later, “Thanks sis! you're fantastic on Peaky Blinders! I can’t wait until the next season!”

The text gave you a brief moment of happiness. You and your sister never had bad blood. You both understood that you took your own paths and there was no reason to give in to your parents patronizing.

The happiness faded when another message came, this time from your mum, “Did your sister tell you she was seeing someone? It’s pretty serious, we might have our first son in law soon.”

You tossed your phone to the floor and buried your head in your hands. Of course they were going to start taking jabs at your love life now. Now that your sister had a serious boyfriend they had something else to belittle you about.

You were trying to hold back your tear when a knock came at your dressing room door. You sighed and swallowed the lump in your throat. “Come in!”

Your co-star, Cillian, opened the door. You looked at him through your vanity mirror. “We’re about to start filming soon, are you ready?”

You nodded. “Yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be out.”

“Are you okay?”

Being asked if you were okay when you were on the verge of tears was always the worst question. You had to look down so Cillian didn’t see the tears forming in your eyes.

“I’m fine,” you replied. “Tell everyone I’ll be out soon.”

Cillian crossed the room to sit next to you. You kept looking down at the vanity’s desk.

“For an actress, you’re not the best at acting like you’re okay,” he teased, causing you to laugh. “What’s wrong? And don’t say it’s nothing because you know I’ll force you to tell me.”

You knew there was no use in lying. Cillian knew you better than most people, he’d know you weren’t telling the truth.

You picked up your phone and passed it to Cillian, allowing him to read the most recent messages. His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. “I don’t get it, what does her love life have to do with either of your jobs? And why would your mum make a comment about him being a future son in law? Your sister even told her that she’s only been seeing the guy for six months.”

“Exactly!” you snapped. “It has nothing to do with the conversation, my mum just wants to tell me she has a new reason to ridicule me. I don’t have a real job, I haven’t had a serious relationship, I’m nowhere near having a kid or being married. But my sister, oh she’s the star child - a lawyer, has a boyfriend now, will probably give my parents their first grandchild.”

You buried your head in your hands again, finally allowing the tears to start flowing freely. You knew the makeup artist was going to be pissed, but you could care less at that moment. You couldn’t leave this frustration to build up while you were filming, it would just guarantee that you'd fuck up the scene and feel even worse.

Cillian took you into his arms, resting his head against yours as he ran a hand soothingly over your body.

“It’s alright,” he said. “It’s alright, let it all out.”

You felt comfortable in his arms, like it was the best place to be, and honestly, it was. Cillian was your closest friend on set of Peaky Blinders, probably your closest friend all together. There were many a times when he would hold you like this, whether it was a friendly hug, a scene on set, an idle gesture when the two of you were hanging out together. Being in Cillian’s arms was so soothing, it was exactly what you needed.

You finally pulled away and looked at yourself in the mirror. Luckily enough, since you were filming a show that was taking place in the early 1900s you didn’t have to wear too much makeup, mainly mascara and enough foundation that you didn’t look shiny on screen. The makeup artist on set had given you waterproof mascara, which again was lucky for you, but your foundation, however, was ruined from water streaks running down your cheeks.

You grabbed a makeup wipe from your vanity and began wiping the foundation from your face. You had foundation in your dressing room for moments like this, so that you could fix your makeup before scenes so no one would realize you were so upset.

“I get that they may not have viewed acting as a possible job back when I was in high school,” you said as you fixed your makeup, “but I’ve made an actual career from it. I’ve been in countless shows and movies, I’ve been nominated for awards and even won countless ones, and they can’t accept that. They can’t be proud of me for making a name for myself in my own way. They’ve never been proud of me. What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing!” Cillian told you. “Nothing is wrong with you. You’re an absolutely amazing person, and you’re so talented and amazing. Just because you chose a different path from your sister and because you’re not following in their footsteps or the path that your parents wanted you to take doesn’t mean that there’s something wrong with you. There’s something wrong with your parents, they’re the assholes here.”

You sighed and shook your head, putting the foundation away. “This thing with my sister having a boyfriend is what’s really gonna start getting to me, I already know that. Being an actress I don't really have the time for a relationship, and I haven’t found a genuine guy that I want to be with because so many Hollywood guys are fake assholes who want to date you for their own professional gain. By the time I find someone to be with, my sister will probably be engaged with a child along the way and my parents will never let me live that down.”

As you spoke, Cillian was listening intently, until you got to the end of your rant. That’s when he cupped your face in his hands and pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to you. The gesture shocked you at first and you almost jerked your head away, but, just like being in his arms, kissing Cillian just felt so right. You relaxed into the kiss, cupping his face as well to hold him close.

He pulled away after a brief moment, smiling at you as he did so. “Am I one of those asshole famous people do you think?”

You giggled. “Oh God no, you’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”

“Well then, this nice person thinks you’re the most amazing person he has ever met, and that your parents couldn’t be more wrong in the way that they treat you. And this nice person wants to take you out on a date when we’re finished with filming today.”

You smiled brightly. “I would love to go out after filming today. But to do that, we should get to filming.”

Realization passed Cillian’s face. “Shit, you’re right. Let’s go.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” you said as Cillian stood. “You go and tell them I’m sorry I’m late but it’s family issues.”

Cillian nodded, leaning down to kiss you once more, before leaving the room.

You took your phone in your hand and checked the family chat to see that the last message was from your sister, explaining to you that her and her boyfriend hadn’t even been together for long and chastising your mother for her message. You took a deep breath and began to type out one final text message.

“I’m really happy for your relationship, sis, and I’d love to meet him, but this is my final message in this groupchat. I’ll be leaving the chat and taking mom and dad off of Facebook. I also probably won’t even tell you guys when I’m visiting home since you’ve made it clear that you don’t even want to see me. I know that I haven’t conformed to your beliefs of “success”, but I love where I’ve gone in life and I’m happy with my career. I’ve been in countless TV shows and movies and I’ve won awards for those things. I love my job, and I wouldn’t change that for the world. As for my love life, if either of you ever cared enough to check in on me instead of flaunting (Y/S/N)’s accomplishments in my face you’d know that I too am seeing someone. Too bad you’ve officially burned all bridges and won’t be meeting him now, but what can you do? Feel free to call if you ever decide to be proud of your youngest daughter for where she is in life and not just for your oldest because she followed the life that you tried to force upon us (I love you sis, don’t take this as an insult)”

After hitting send, you left the chat and promptly blocked both of your parents on Facebook. You took a deep breath and sighed heavily. It felt like a weight had been taken off of your shoulders then.

You inspected your makeup in the mirror to make sure it looked fine before getting up and finally walking to set. The rest of your co-stars were gathered, waiting, when you finally arrived.

“Sorry I’m late,” you told them. “Family stuff. I’m ready to go if you guys are.”

Everyone started getting in place. As the camera was being set up, Cillian looked at you with a little concern on his face. “Everything alright?”

You smiled at him, suddenly feeling more confident than you ever had. “I feel great. Let’s kill this scene.”

[prince-toffee]

Alleyways

Hordak x Shadow Weaver

Canon Divergence | Alt Universe

Season One | Episode 14: Alleyways

Beatrix scoffed and threw the brown ration bar and the rest of her food tray across the prison cell, she far preferred the grey ones. She gave a defeated sigh lowering her head down. She rubbed her fingers over the scratched part of her mask, in the spot where a chip of the Black Garnet used to reside. Her shoulders slouched down, all tension in her muscles left her as she gave up. She felt so powerless. So weak. Just a few days ago she was still one of the most powerful witches on the planet, every magic user feared her name.

Shadow Weaver.

Now, she sat in a prison cell, rank-less. She didn’t know if she should’ve felt honoured, or disgusted by the fact that the cell was specially attuned and adjusted for her specifically. Which meant it was probably designed and constructed, in secret, long before her treason. This place was full of secrets and surprises, usually unpleasant ones. Hec-Tor would’ve probably said it was an honour, he was an architect that truly thought of everything. And The Fright Zone was one of his most haunting creations.

Beatrix wasn’t disgusted, per say. She knew she didn’t have many fans, and plenty of enemies at every corner. This outcome was inevitable, she knew deep down she was getting too greedy for her own good. But the power felt too good to give up. What a fool she was. She saw it all clearly now. Where her addiction led her. Her very unsubtle disregard for orders, her greed peering through her emotionless, cold stature. She knew she was on thin ice with Hec-Tor, the control freak he was. He desired order and expected subordinance. He always disliked her - everybody back home knew she was a wildcard, deceptive, insidious. Looking out for only herself - she never really cared about the cause.

Perhaps she should’ve been more surprised that he didn’t do it earlier. She knew he wasn’t fond of her, and vice versa of course - she couldn’t stand his patriotic and prideful attitude. Acting as if being apart of The Horde was a gift from god. He was an old blind fool. Beatrix wouldn't have thought twice before leaving this place and selling her loyalty and inside information to the most welcoming bidder - The Alliance, or even maybe try her luck with The Empire of Talon Mountain. So any choices to choose from, now if only she could manage to escape her imprisonment.

Unfortunately, if she knew Hec-Tor, and she did, The Hordak had probably thought of every possibility of escape she would think of, and countered it. He was paranoid like that. The spherical pure white containment cell she was unceremoniously thrown into was made out of Glowmoon-Dwarfstone, the surface layer anyway. A magical element only found on one of the moons of Etheria, able to absorb darkness itself. Bad news for the Weaver of Shadows, she was powerless here. She despised feeling weak, vulnerable. She was meant to be the predator, not the prey.

She had no shadow. The stone absorbed it. She felt two dimensional. She didn’t know if that made sense, but she heard the stone had negative effects on the mind if in close proximity for too long. Speaking of which, she had no idea how long she had been locked up, she lost the track of time. No windows. So no sky. No clock. No space. The spherical cell was the size of a small closet. At least they were still feeding her, but the food in there was never anything to gloat about.

She placed her face into her hands, she was loosing it. She couldn’t break! But she was close. She didn’t want anyone to have the satisfaction of seeing her beg, and pled. She was strong, stronger than them. She was going to win in the end, she just had to wait it out, play the long ga-

“Inmate-667. Place your forehead on the wall behind you and position your hands behind your back. The containment unit door will open, and a commanding official will commence your questioning. And Weaver, you’re gonna like this one, hehe.”

Beatrix narrowed her eyes and growled at the announcement. She recognised the voice, Force-Commander Grizzlor. She never liked him. The feeling was seemingly mutual. She did as she was ordered. A groan reverberated through her throat, she knew exactly what this was, she could tell from Grizzlor’s smug voice. Catra. She was back to berate her. It seemed like her former ward’s ego had grown three times the size, rather than her heart. Beatrix dreaded these visits. Catra came over from time to time, to insult and demean the dark sorceress, rub her victory into Beatrix’s face. Insolent little brat! She got lucky! Beatrix was weak when she caught her off guard, too drained by the toll the Black Garnet’s power took on her. If only- if only she could take hold of the Garnet’s power! S- She didn’t need much, just a little, it would’ve cleared her mind, beat her heart faster. If she had just a little more she could’ve had taken out Catra, and her two stooges. Everything would have been all better if only she had a little more. Damn that girl! And her mother!

The cell opened up. A side panel gave out a hiss as it dislodged, pulled out and off to the side. Weaver felt the colder air pour in. The closest shadow cast onto her was too weak for her to do anything with, the upper layer of the walls draining it’s ethereal cosmic weight. Or perhaps she was the one who was too weak. Catra loomed over her. The teen thought she could intimidate her, not a chance.

“Well? Come on then, you spoiled brat! Got anything to say? Came here to gloat and mock me, you think you have won, but one wrong move with Hordak and he’ll throw you to the dogs, he’s-”

“Weaver.”

The sorceress silenced herself. The voice that called to her was cold and smooth, in other words not Catra’s. The single word was followed by a pair of footsteps, metal boots clanking against the stone’s surface. The sound of cybernetics hissing as his joins moved. He was close now. The cell entrance slide back into place closing the cell. They were alone now. Beatrix had to admit, even though she knew Hec-Tor for most of her life, seen him at his most vulnerable, even shared some intimate moments with him, but still even after all that - he was terrifying.

She turned her head around, and there he was. He looked different in the light, stranger. She almost never saw him outside of his ThroneHall. Always cloaked in darkness and smoke. She sometimes wondered if he bought smoke machines on purpose to scare any kids that would accidently wonder into the room. Hec-Tor certainly had a taste for the dramatic. Beatrix turned around and seated herself comfortably looking up at the Overlord, well, as comfortably as possible. There he was, in all his glory, out of shadows - a glorified toaster. The same Hec-Tor that used to write poetry for girls that would never go out with him. The same Hec-Tor that dyed his hair blue, because kids from the neighbourhood made fun of him being ginger. The same Hec-Tor that beat his own father within an inch of his life, and conquered half of the galaxy...

Same old, same old.

She swallowed down quietly, she couldn’t show him she was weak. The mask helped hide most emotions, most weaknesses, she had to control the rest of her body language. Beatrix lifted one leg over the other and intertwined her fingers together, giving off a relaxed posture.

“Lord Hordak. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

She looked over him - blood red eyes, and teeth, grey skin, military regulation hair cut, his two prostatic arms, which could crush boulders, his imperial purple cape, and the neon lit armour implants. She was actually curious as to what he was actually going to say. His eyes narrowed, anger was apparent, but an air of irritation was present too. He gave out a long tiresome sigh, as he moved his fingers to rub the bridge of his nasal cavity, even venturing as far as his eyes. She was in for it.

“Why? Why can’t you just follow orders? Beatrix Hallows, always struggling with adhering to reason and common sense.”

Shadow Weaver’s eyes widened she couldn’t believe what she was hearing, he actually had the audacity to school her, to talk down to her. This was almost worse than Catra, hearing her full name spoken out in a mocking tone, like lecturing a child, slapping them on the hand, this was humiliating. And from Hec-Tor too. When angered by her he’d usually give her the cold shoulder, take her off a mission, reassign command to someone else, like Catra. She thought he had given up on talking to her ages ago. But she wasn’t going to have it.

“Having fun? Look you’re not covering any new ground here. Catra already had multiple pitstops here to make me her new donkey. If you think you get to insult me like that, just remember your punk rear wouldn’t have made it back home if it weren’t there for me. You owe me. Several.”

It was true. Back on HordeWorld, back on the streets. They had nothing. Had to rummage through trash, and steal for food. Stomach empty all day. Times were tough. They had to rely on each other. One distracted the passer-by and the other pickpocketed, on a lucky day, thanks to Hec-Tor’s puppy eyes the stranger would hand them some pennies on top of that. But man, on days like these she wished she had never stood up to those bullies shoving little young Hec-Tor around, should have never allowed him to follow her. But how couldn’t she, he was so adorable.

“I am not here to appoint you my personal laughing stock. And I thought I told Catra talking to prisoners was forbidden. I’ll have a chat with her about the regulations... I am here to understand. Finally. I have been putting this off for far too long.”

This was curious, and unexpected. She would’ve lied if she said she wasn’t interested in what was about to exit that mouth. He had avoided her for years. Often said she was ‘not worth wasting words on’. The feeling was mutual. She heard that mouth declare rousing speeches, bone-chilling monologues, and the softest of kisses. Versatility was everything. He continued.

“We never saw eye to eye, never liked each other, you always went your own way. Chose to differ from others, always take the other path. You talk back to me, you waste resources on personal escapades, and often break protocol... But back there, at such a crucial point, disobeying my orders, for what? Just because of a child that did follow orders?”

Putting faith in that girl was going to be his undoing. Unless she was going to get to him first. Catra was always a nuisance, untrustworthy, going off on her own, not listening to what she was told. She had a rebellious spirit, that drove her away from Weaver’s lessons, she often managed to drag others away with her. She was too smart for her own good.

She’ll be biting down on Hec-Tor’s ankles soon enough. She supposed that an upside of being stuck in the cell was that he had to deal with Catra’s antics now. That was his mess to clean.

“How did she even get a drop on you? Was it the Garnet? I told you to tell me if the artefact displayed any negative effects-”

“Are you done? I know you didn’t come here to talk about my feelings. If you care to know your magic weapon is fine. And Catra. She’s nothing but a brat, that you’re letting walk all over you.”

She wasn’t having any of this, she had to speak up for herself. Call it a warning, that girl is not to be dismissed, she’s trouble - like her mother. But deep down she felt a hint of embarrassment herself, she was one of the most powerful sorceresses, years ago when she first drained the power of the Garnet she did it effortlessly. Even though Hec-Tor didn’t trust her, he handed her the responsibility, because he knew she was the only one who could hold its power. He knew she was mighty. But now, the Garnet rejects her, resists her, no longer bows down to her might. It hurt sometimes. But she could never show weakness.

The infamous Hordak stared down at her, judgementally, much like how he looked down at everybody. He looked off to the side at the thrown away tray, mashed potato and peas smeared on the floor, tray flipped over, and the brown rations crumbled on the floor.

“You’re not eating.”

What was that? She wondered to herself. Was that genuine worry? She noticed he stayed on the ration bars for a second too long, noting her preference perhaps. He seemingly had no idea where to go from there, so she helped him out, she asked.

“Why are you here Hec-Tor?”

This time using his real name rather than his title. More personal, it cut to the point. Plus he was always going to be Hec-Tor to her. That puppy eyed scaredy-bat, the one always picked on, by bullies twice his weight, the nerd allergic to flowers, and the same geek that used to write poems for her. She dismissed them of course, just a bunce of nonsense if you’d ask her. The change never really quite settled in, even when the Council made the public announcement of picking the new Hordak. Even when Hec-Tor’s face came on every screen on the planet. Even when the death of He-Ro shocked the nation. Nothing changed.

Well, maybe not until that day at Vix’s Diner. It was the strangest circumstance. He was the one who called her over. She guessed it was just a nostalgic meet up, like in the old days. 'The Hordak' was present, so they ate for free. Their conversation would be constantly interrupted by randos bowing and giving respects to him. He dismissed them.

But there was something different about the man that sat in front of her, he was colder, more stiff. Beatrix treated herself to the unlimited free breakfast meals, best she’d eaten in years. She half listened to his ramblings, something about the war with the Light and the Ones Who Won’t Be Named escalating, the Council was abolishing anti-terraforming laws, and Horde warships were launching on the offensive against the enemy. The wannabe poet gone, all that was left of the boy was a patriot, and a soldier. Well, what do you do? That’s what the government spoon feeds people.

But the strangest thing was. He asked her to be his 'Weaver' - his second in command. An honour placed apon only those who are seen as worthy, or chosen by the Council. But this wasn’t an ask of desperation or of fear. This was an order. Firm, and powerful. That day in the diner, if Beatrix would’ve refused him, she didn’t know if she would’ve walked out of there with her head on.

The Hordak is no mere man you can refuse after all.

He is the 'Beast of HordeWorld'.

And so, they set off. Boarded the warship: Annihilation, and rocketed into the stars. And the newly appointed Shadow Weaver pondered, that it was quite curious that HordeWorld was completely decimated only few days after they left. Curious indeed. Blah. Blah. Blah. Couple of thousand years, some food shortages and dead bodies later: Etheria. Crash landing in the back fields of King Niro’s Kingdom of Scorpion Hill. And it was through Weaver’s highly skilled dark magic on display, that the kingdoms bowed down to them, Mysticore even building a statue in her honour. They looked up to her, marvelled at her magical abilities. Her Horde magic was far more advanced than what the wizards held in their possession. She taught, and trained them. But good things never last. They turned on her.

“Like I said, Beatrix. I am here to understand.”

Now it was his time to use her name. She was still curious yet cautious. Whatever side-tracks Hec-Tor from the main mission, can’t be good. All this was strangely personal. Was the Beast in fact capable of concern and closeness? She let him continue.

“We’ve known each other longer than most beings live. But in my quest into the unknown, I never even dared to explore what was nearest me. Tell me, why break, why snap at me at a point of victory? And why, why the girl? It’s that Magicat that sets you off at every moment. Why? Why do you hate the girl?”

“Will, you free me?”

“...No. We both know I won’t, I can’t. It is against the protocols, and I gave you too many passes, vouched for you too many times, I overlooked your actions for too long. And that’s why I am here.”

Well, that wasn’t going to work. No freedom, no deal, no talking. She was surprised by the fact that this entire situation was simply a genuine attempt at a heart to heart. But he knew nothing. And that’s how Beatrix liked to keep things. Much like Hec-Tor, she wished to be a bogeyman, imagination was always the greatest deterrent.

And what was there to explain? Catra was a pain, undisciplined, and unwilling to learn. Beatrix wasn’t about to just let that brat walk over her, of course she snapped! Everything Catra got, every punishment, was because she deserved it. Though... no. No, he couldn’t know. Could he? Did he? Hec-Tor was a master tactician and strategist, he always researched and analysed everything before the attack - what if the Beast already knew the answer to his own question?

Did he know about Melendy?

Beatrix never spoke to anyone about her personal life, especially not her love life. And she had made sure she was back for check-ins, erased her tracks, she was sneaky. She didn’t slip up often. How would he know? Could it be? Was the grand Lord Hordak jealous? A curious stalker.

But perhaps it wasn’t that outside of the realm of possibly. The Queen of Magicats. The Lord of the Horde. Hec-Tor set up many negotiations in the time before the war, people talk.

And what now, he expected her to sit here listen to him give her therapy? As if. If that bastard knew about Melendy’s choice... about her leaving, and didn’t say anything, just holding it over her head as bait - then damn him to the Light! But did he truly know? He couldn’t possibly understand. She was in love. Nothing ever came close to making her feel like that. Not even him. Beatrix loved her, and she chose to leave, just because of tradition, culture. To Light with it!

But what prompted him to care? Perhaps he looked back fondly on the past, reminiscing? Hordak and her didn’t sleep together often, but when the duty became too much, too stressful - they aided each other to settle the nerve. Heh, it took practice to get used to each other, their first time, wasn’t pretty.

She still remembered that night, or well, it was day actually. She always misremembered, since the skies over the city of Catrax were always grey from the city’s pollution. Kids used to come over to their windows and watch the rare instances when sunshine would penetrate the dark clouds above. Very little hope shone down on the people of the lower levels. But the kids of the higher levels, the ones on the first floor, above the clouds, they had all the sunshine they wanted, and took it all for granted.

So when Beatrix and Hec-Tor pickpocketed and stole a little, just to keep living, just to have. It wasn’t that selfish. When the two crash landed on Etheria for the first time they ventured throughout the land, claiming everything they could, stealing and conquering, taking - just to have. Just because they couldn’t in previous lives.

On that day, after Beatrix stole old Mister Scurvy’s wallet as Hec-Tor distracted him, they both ran off away from the yelling man. Ran faster than they ever ran before, too afraid that the man’s screaming would attract the attention of any local law enforcement, if they got them, it was Confinement for sure, no matter that they were teens.

She huffed and panted so hard she almost fell off her own feet. She had to lean herself on the side of a brick wall in the alleyway she ran into. Just as Hec-Tor joined her, the rain began to pour. He bowed down, arms holding his knees, trying to support his upper body. His ears tilted down. His exhausted cough turning into a cackling laugh, which clearly infected Beatrix since she burst into laughter with him. She didn’t really know how it happened, but he got closer to her, with her pinned against the wall, looking straight into each other’s eyes. As their chuckles settled, her hand ventured down to his hip as her lips made their way to his own. And then, well, they were teenagers, you know what else.

Good memories.

Perhaps memories were just the advantage she needed, perhaps Hordak didn’t despise her as much as she had previously thought. Could it be? The All-Mighty Lord of The Horde feeling... lonely?

“Do you remember the alleyway?”

“Eh, there were... many alleyways.”

True that, after it felt so good, the first time, it sort of became a daily routine for them. Partners with benefits. They used each other to feel better, to feel something. There was nothing between the two, or so Beatrix thought. But perhaps she was wrong yet again. She wished to test that.

She took off her mask. The Weaver mask was a totemic symbol back on HordeWorld - representing strength and authority. And underneath that mask, was a woman. A broken woman, with scars and stiches, missing flesh. Something many would call a monster. But Hec-Tor Kur of House Kur saw nothing but beauty. A magnificent beast that saved him many a times. The girl he fell for so long ago. And Beatrix knew that, knew it was the moment she locked her toxic waste green eyes with his blood red, which shimmered in the light of the cell. She knew straight away, his weakness.

“Look at me, Hec-Tor. So frail. I wasted away. So little of me left... The Council was right. No matter what power I aim to tame, I fail, I never amounted to anything, like they predicted. I know you’re disappointed to have me as a partner on this venture... But… I miss the alleyways. When we had nothing. Back when so little felt like so much.”

It worked. The seemingly cold and calculated persona cracked. His facial expression changed, from irritation, and anger to a certain softness, maybe pity. He breathed in heavy, and out through the nose. He took a step closer to her. The cell was a snug fit so his leg was already brushing hers.

“We do have nothing, Beatrix. We are the last of our kind. We have little, but we can have it all. You are not a failure. We are not failures. There is a reason why I haven’t just simply executed you like a common thug... I miss those days too. But we still have time.”

The Hordak kneeled down, lowered himself to be closer to her. This was it - the moment of truth. He clearly had no idea what to do with his hands, so one rubbed its thumb and pointing finger together in anticipation, while the other hovered in the air half open awaiting her permission to proceed. The Weaver of Shadows accepted it, took hold of the old vampire’s hand into her own, intertwining their talons. Old scared skin taking comfort in one another, something familiar, in an unfamiliar world.

“We will have our people back. We will terraform this miserable planet! And we will be the new gods of a new utopia... And... though we never seem to see eye to eye... even if all it was, was physical, there is no one I would rather stand with and watch this world transform into hope, because you are my partner. This is our mission.”

Beatrix was the first to move forward. And Hec-Tor quickly followed suit, he closed his eyes and opened his fanged mouth. And the blissful moment was brief, but glorious, the space bat even let a pleasing hum escape him. And perhaps Beatrix would’ve let it go on longer, it wasn’t often that she had pleasures like these. But this situation was dire, and also, she was really tired of looking at the same white walls all day. She decided she earned herself a little walk to stretch her legs.

Hordak knew there was something wrong - his mouth became colder, and something wriggled inside that made him choke on his own breaths. Shadow Weaver rose up, straightening her legs completely, while Hordak bent down, onto his knees. The Dwarf Stone absorbed all darkness present on all surfaces, rendering her powerless, but the magic stone’s reach was limited. Cause Hordak’s entire inside of his body was nothing but darkness - so many shadows coating all of his vulnerable entrails and organs. She wasn’t going to paralyse him permanently, she wasn’t that cruel - just because of their history, she could show mercy.

Hec-Tor’s face pale and sick, his body limp, blood pooling around his organs, he fell on the floor. Shadow Weaver took a good long heavy breath, perfect. She placed the mask back over her face, and approached the wall of the cell through which Hec-Tor entered. Firmly placed her palms on the stone and pushed against the wall. The ethereal shadows twisted and morphed and drilled into the wall, she didn’t have much time. Every second the walls drained away the shadows, Hec-Tor had very little left in him, and the bright magic of the material weakened her, so little strength was left in her.

But there it was, the sound of the stone cracking. She wormed her fingers into the crack, enlarging it, chipping on it. The rock crumbled down, exposing the metallic layer underneath it. That was it, her window of opportunity. She commanded the shadows to bore into the mechanisms, and the shadow beast tore the panel wide open. The steel bending and ripping was extremely satisfying. Weaver loved the look on Grizzlor’s face as he took in what just happened. The witch made quick work of him, throwing him off to the side with the dark mass. She sighed in relief, she wasn’t free yet, but she had plenty of material to work with. The shadows from smallest corner to the largest corridor converged around her, swirling like a vortex.

“Now this is something I can work with.”

[isis-astarte-diana]

Milk and Honey: Day 2

Day 1 ‖ Day 2 ‖ Day 3

Summary: “I don’t need your pity. I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.” Wounds healing and ego bruised, Missy self-sabotages. You pick up the pieces the only way you know how.

Warnings: Possible bit of self-harming/OCD behaviour (obsessive cleaning and fingernail trauma, nothing too heavy). Missy does not handle vulnerability well and she gets nasty, but then she’s such a soft troubled baby that we all collectively pretend that it’s not problematic. Unhealthy relationship dynamics and angst. MIHOW.

Word Count: 3615

NB: Oops! It’s angst. Mostly hurt, bit of comfort. Stay tuned and hopefully the fluff will be back soon!

You wake up warm.

The bedside light is still on, its amber glow shaming the thin autumn sunlight that streams grey from the window. When you reach over to switch it off, something drags you back.

Missy has her arm flung across your stomach.

Beneath the duvet, her hand presses just above your navel. You can feel the weight of it when you breathe. Her fingers are splayed across your pyjama top, gripping the fabric tightly.

You stop dead still, half upright. Inexplicable panic floods your chest. "Missy?" You whisper into the pillow, hardly daring to turn your head and look at her.

"Hmm?"

For a single bloodcurdling moment, you think she must have woken; but then she hums again, squirming closer, her nose brushing the back of your neck. Any relief at realising that she’s still sleeping is lost when her arm tightens around your waist.

You think of staying there. With all of your free time spent travelling in the TARDIS, you can’t remember the last time you were held like this. She’s soft and warm behind you, her breath stirring the fine hairs at the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps prickling across the sensitive skin there. It would be so easy to wait for just a few minutes. Half an hour, maybe.

She would never do this on purpose.

The disgust hits you so hard that you flinch. To lie here, taking advantage of her unconscious embrace, enjoying the sweet comfort of an arm around you and peaceful breathing behind you - what would it make you? What would she think if she knew?

You tear yourself away too forcefully, fuelled by the self-loathing that burns in your throat. Missy groans softly in her sleep but doesn’t stir, burying her face in the pillow where your head had been resting. You tuck the duvet back around her, pointedly not looking at the inch of milk-pale skin on her side where the shirt she wears has ridden up.

She looks better already. The angry graze on her cheek is fading, and the long, deep cut down the side of her face is healed and red with new skin. You wonder how long it will take for them to disappear completely.

It’s clear that the sleep is working how she’d hoped, so you leave her there. The clock on the bedside table reads 9:47. Gathering your things, you head for the shower. As you close the bedroom door, she opens her eyes blearily and mumbles your name. You don’t hear it.

+++++

“How’s the patient?”

The Doctor leans against the kitchen counter, watching you make tea. His hands are thrust into his jacket pockets and there’s a careful aloofness to his voice that does very little to disguise his obvious concern.

“Fine.” It sounds clipped. “She ate. She slept. Still sleeping, last time I checked.” You glance at the time on the microwave; it’s after twelve. “For quite a while now.”

“That’s good.” He reaches past you, snatching a biscuit from the tin and biting it in half. He speaks through the crumbs. “We heal better when we’re asleep. Sometimes go into a coma for a few days, wake up ravenous and fully recovered.”

“She mentioned that.” You take both cups into the living room and he follows, carrying the biscuit tin, going back for another. The bag of Missy’s things is sitting in your space on the sofa and you move it to the floor. It’s a floral, Victorian-looking carpet bag, not particularly large but, you’re assured, bigger on the inside and full of everything she’ll need.

“So what else did you talk about?” He props his feet on the coffee table and you scowl. Looking suitably chagrined, he takes them down.

“Nothing, really." Taking a seat beside him, you feel oddly embarrassed, as if the prior evening’s events were a delicate secret that might wither under his scrutiny. “We watched some telly, and then we were both pretty tired so we went to bed.”

You can feel his eyes on you as you reach for your tea, and your face burns under them. Mercifully he doesn’t ask about the sleeping arrangements. “She didn’t try to kill you, then.”

“Not even once.”

“I was tempted.” Your head darts up at the sound of Missy’s voice in the doorway. She looks more like herself, her face the familiar mask of malicious indifference, the wounds there having healed even further since you woke this morning. The pink skin on her cheek is bisected by a blurry streak of red. She’s taken the braid out of her hair, leaving it to tumble in loose waves about her shoulders. “No tea for me, I take it.”

“You were sleeping.” The Doctor looks her up and down. “Nice pyjamas, by the way.”

“Aren’t they?” She gives a performative little twirl. She’s moving more easily than she did yesterday, coming to a halt with only the faintest wince. “I might move away from purple after all.”

“I brought the things you asked for. Well, most of them.” He gestures to the valise and she snatches it up, fixing him with a suspicious look.

“Most of them?” Her voice is thin.

“I’m not convinced that whalebone is suitable for a stab wound.”

“I’m not convinced that I asked your opinion.” She tears the bag open, reaching into its impossible depths, staring at the contents. “My shoes?”

“Ah, well,” he rubs the back of his neck, leaning forwards. “I didn’t think you’d be going anywhere just yet.”

“My sonic?” She spits it out through gritted teeth.

“The sonic stays on the TARDIS. I’m sorry.” He sounds anything but apologetic. “I can’t have you using it without my supervision.”

“No,” she mutters. “No, of course not.” She closes it slowly, snapping the fastenings with a flourish of her fingers. “Well, if there’s nothing else, Doctor-”

“Actually, I was going to ask-”

“If there’s nothing else, Doctor,” she repeats, speaking over him. He falls silent. “Then I’d better go and make myself decent. Do stop by another time.”

She slips back into the hallway and you hear a door slam. Beside you, the Doctor clears his throat.

“I’d best be going. Lecture on Quantum Chromodynamics this afternoon. Still need to pick out the perfect record for it.” He stands up heavily, thrusting two biscuits into his pocket for the road. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Yeah.” Your eyes are fixed on the door. “Of course. See you soon.”

+++++

“Had a nice chat, did you?”

The bathroom door is open. Missy stands at the sink with her back to you, the tap running full force into the open plughole. Over the sound of rushing water and gurgling pipes her voice is low.

“Yeah, it was okay.” You move closer, gesturing towards her with the steaming mug in your hands. “I made you some tea.” She ignores you. Her attention is fixed on something in the sink, her hands busy with it. You peer around the doorframe. She’s wearing a clean chemise and nothing else, her hair pinned up messily, the muscles in her bare arms tight and flexing with the sawing motion of her elbows. “What are you doing?”

Her stained corset from the previous day is crumpled awkwardly in the sink. The bloody laces are directed under the freezing tap as she scrubs at them with a nailbrush, turning the water the colour of rust where it runs down the drain. Her fingers are a furious shade of pink from the cold and the rough work.

“He didn’t bring me any presentable clothes,” she mutters, not looking up from her thankless task. “No corset, no jacket, no shoes. He’d have me walking around in a housecoat and stockinged feet like an invalid.” She snarls, scrubbing harder, catching her fingers with the bristles. There’s too much blood in the water for it to all be leeching from the fabric; the delicate skin around her fingernails is ragged. Heart in your throat, you set the mug aside and reach for the tap.

“Missy, your hands-”

She knocks your hand away and turns on you. He’s obviously brought her some makeup; the injuries on her face are concealed and her eyes are lined heavily with kohl, flecks of mascara clinging to her lashes, dark lips stretched tight around her bared teeth. It’s hard to believe that she’s the same person who’d slept beside you last night.

“I don’t need your pity,” she snaps, the words poison in her mouth. “I won’t stand here and be fussed over by some idiot human child.”

It stings. After yesterday you thought you were getting somewhere; that you might do better than to tolerate each other, and actually start to become something like friends. Swallowing angry tears that threaten to weaken your voice, you bite back.

“I’ll bear that in mind next time you can’t get undressed by yourself.”

You regret the words before you’ve even spoken them. You understand that she’s lashing out at you because she feels weak, but it smacks of bullying and you can’t bear to be a punching bag for her wounded pride. Something sharp flashes behind her eyes.

“Oh, I bet you had a good laugh about that, didn’t you?” Her fingers, wet and cold as the grave, wrap tightly around your wrist. “He must have loved it.”

Softening immediately, you backpedal, realising the source of her rage. “Missy, I didn’t tell the Doctor about-”

She isn’t listening. She twists your arm up behind your back with startling strength, forcing it so high that your shoulder screams in protest and your words die in your throat. You’re up against the sink before you can draw breath. The tap is still running, icy spray soaking the front of your clothes. You brace your other hand against the slick porcelain and look down at the bloody water.

“Look at me!” Her teeth snap inches from your ear. Lifting your eyes to meet hers in the mirror, your breath falters at the expression on her face. In all the time you’ve known her, you haven’t seen rage like this. “Who am I?”

“You’re the Master.” Mouth dry, your breath fogs the mirror.

“I was reducing whole civilisations to rubble before your species stuck a feather into a pile of ash and drew their first hieroglyph,” she snarls. The threat in her voice makes your hair stand on end. “You’d do well to remember that.”

“I will.” The words come out strained. There’s a band of vice-like pain where she holds your wrist, an aching tightness in the muscles of your back that isn’t lessening. “I will. I’m sorry.”

She steps away so suddenly that you crumple, gripping the sink for support. Your forehead hits the mirror. As you squeeze your eyes shut and catch your breath, you can’t see the look of horror that flashes over her face.

When you open your eyes again she’s gone from behind you. Down the hall, your bedroom door closes. You stare into the sink until it starts to overflow.

+++++

You’re elbow-deep in soapy water, washing yesterday’s dishes, when there are four tentative knocks against the doorframe. You swallow hard and try to ignore them.

“Need a hand?” Missy’s voice is soft and hesitant.

“I’m fine.”

She doesn’t respond for so long that you think she must have left. You’re rinsing the last mug - the octopus - when she speaks again. It makes you jump.

“I’m sorry.” She sounds so genuine that your eyes flutter closed, pain twisting in your chest. “I’m sorry for earlier. That was- not my proudest moment.”

It takes you a second to steady your voice. “I didn’t tell the Doctor. About last night. About any of it.” Steeling yourself, you glance over your shoulder at her. She’s standing so far away. “He doesn’t know.”

“But you do.” It takes you by surprise. You turn around to face her, leaning against the sink. Her expression is implacable. Tracks of mascara stain her pale face; she’s been crying. “You know.”

You cross your arms and look away. The sight of her is turning your resolve into dust. “I understand that you don’t want to be here, Missy, but I didn’t ask you to come. That was his idea.”

“Wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re wrong. It wasn’t his idea.” She scrubs a hand over her face, further smudging her makeup. Her fingers are trembling. She’s wearing the long violet housecoat, unbuttoned, over her thin chemise. Standing barefoot in your kitchen with her hair piled up in loose twists she looks like a ghost. “I don’t know what I expected to-”

“You asked him to bring you here?” You push away from the sink, your voice rising as you step towards her. She flinches, touches the wound on her back, leans heavily against the doorframe. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you’re the only one who doesn’t treat me like a criminal,” she snaps. Her words are tight with pain, and she bows at the hips to ease the strain on her back. “I’m a prisoner in the TARDIS as much as I am in the vault, but I thought that here I might be something else. Just for a few days.”

“I’m not keeping you here,” you snarl. “You can do whatever you like, as you took great pleasure in reminding me. You can leave whenever-”

“How can I?!” Looking up from the tiled floor, she fixes you with wild eyes. “How can I when he plays the warden and keeps my things from me on a whim? No clothes, no shoes, no sonic? Wherever I go the Doctor has my dignity under lock and key. What little sanctuary I find he takes, every time.”

“And you thought you’d take that out on me?” The trembling of your bottom lip betrays you. You bat at the mutinous tears in your eyes. “Put the stupid human in her place? Show me that you don’t-”

“That I don’t deserve your kindness.” She cuts you off, straightening up with obvious difficulty, her knuckles white on the door jamb. “Not so long ago I would have snapped you in half just to hear the sound it made. I have lived longer than you can fathom and done things that your language doesn’t have words for. I’m no stranger to regret, my dear.” The fury in her expression drains away and for a moment she looks as ancient as you know her to be. “So when I tell you that I am sorry for what I did to you, please understand what that means.”

Your throat tightens. She’s too easy to forgive like this, with her face lined with pain and her small frame quivering. She looks cold. The words sit heavy at the back of your tongue, ready to accept an apology whose sincerity you don’t doubt for a second. Swallowing them back, you murmur instead, “I think you need to sit down, Missy.”

She studies you with glassy eyes, breathing heavy. “Yes,” she whispers in the end. “Oh, yes. I think so.”

She slumps to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut. You land on your knees beside her just in time to keep her head from striking the tiles.

+++++

Despite your efforts, you can’t lift Missy onto the sofa. She’s fully unconscious and the dead weight of her is too much for you to move alone. Instead, you do the next best thing; you tuck a pillow beneath her head and a blanket around her, covering her from shoulders to bare feet, and sit in the living room to watch her breathing.

As the afternoon drags on, you make a late lunch - stepping carefully over her body to reach the kitchen - and pick at it, hardly tearing your eyes away from her for long enough to look at the television. You make no effort to be quiet but she doesn’t stir save for the soft noises she makes in her sleep and the occasional shift in her position. Recalling the Doctor’s words, you choose not to wake her.

“We heal better when we’re asleep.”

You have a torturous amount of time to think while she lies there. Did she sleep in the vault? What about the TARDIS? And before she came here, when she was travelling alone? The Doctor had told you once that Time Lords could go months without it and then spend the best part of a week unconscious. When the light begins to fail and evening falls outside the window, with Missy yet to awaken, you wonder just how long ago “the desert, last time” really was.

Phone in hand, you type and delete the same message over and over for almost ten minutes. The wording escapes you. Some iterations of it are huge paragraphs, wrought with pleading explanations; some are terse and demanding. The final draft ends up being one of the latter, sent before you can second guess yourself.

Bring her sonic tomorrow.

The response comes almost immediately. You open it with trembling fingers.

No.

Incensed, you don’t wait this time. Your jaw clenches with impotent rage as you reply.

Bring it.

You toss your phone to the other end of the sofa, ignoring the answering buzz that sounds angrier than an inanimate object has any right to. As if in response, Missy jolts upright.

It shocks you when she draws a deep, painful-sounding breath, her head whipping around, trying to make sense of her surroundings. Rising to your feet, you approach her slowly.

“Missy?”

She yelps at the sound of your voice, turning to look at you with wide eyes, reaching back to touch the healing injury when the sudden movement tugs at it. Her chest heaves with ragged breaths. The room is dim with autumn dusk, the overhead lights not switched on yet. In the gloom you can’t make out her expression; just those eyes, gleaming like a cat’s.

“It’s okay,” you say cautiously, showing her your palms in a gesture of surrender, trying to soothe her the only way you know how. “It’s okay, it’s just me.”

“What happened?” She throws it out like an accusation but there’s too much fear in her voice for it to wound you.

“I don’t know, you just- dropped. I think you passed out. It’s been a few hours.” Conscious of looming over her while she’s like this, you sink carefully to your knees, a few feet away. “Are you alright?”

It knocks the wind out of you when she throws herself into your arms.

“I thought you’d gone.” Her voice is muffled, warm in the crook of your neck as she claws at the fabric on your back, pulling herself closer. Your hands come to rest either side of the small of her back in an attempt to avoid the wound there. “I thought- I didn’t-”

“It’s okay,” you manage, stunned, propping your chin up on her shoulder. She’s shaking. “It’s okay. I’m here. Did you- were you dreaming?”

A stunted nod. “I can still hear them,” she croaks. “The drums. Always the drums. Whenever I sleep. Whenever I’m alone, they just keep coming back-”

“You’re not alone.” It spills out of your mouth before you can stop it and she whimpers, nuzzling deeper into your embrace. “I’ve got you, Missy. I’m here. You’re not alone.”

+++++

Propped up on the sofa with pillows behind her, Missy takes her makeup off with a damp cloth. She hisses as it drags over the graze on her cheek and your fingers twitch at your sides in sympathy.

“You’re sure you want to sleep here tonight?” As you tidy the remains of your shared meal from the coffee table, you resist the urge to look back at her. She’s lying awkwardly across the cushions, still wearing the housecoat, the blanket from earlier thrown over her body. “I really don’t mind if you want to share the bed.”

“No,” she answers too quickly. “No, I think- I think this is best. It’s easier on my back.”

“Of course.” The lie is paper-thin. After the day’s events, though, you don’t want to push her. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

“I will.”

The microwave dings as you set the dishes on the counter, and you remove the steaming mug of hot milk. It’s been a long time since you’ve made this. You add twice as much honey as usual - she takes four sugars in her tea - and stir it in with the spices, turning the drink the colour of sand. It smells like home.

Missy looks at you questioningly when you set it on the coffee table in front of her.

“Milk and honey,” you explain weakly, rubbing your neck. “My mum’s recipe. She used to make it for me, when I had nightmares. It helps me sleep.”

Her keen eyes follow you as you switch on the standing lamp and turn off the main light, casting the room in a dim orange glow.

“I’ll see you in the morning, yeah?”

“Yes.” She picks at a loose thread on the blanket without looking at it. Her face is unreadable. “Thank you. Sleep well.”

There are so many things you want to say. Come to bed, or I forgive you, or you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

As you slip out of the door, all you manage is a quiet, “you too.”

+++++

When the bedroom door creaks open you close your eyes and fall still. There’s a rush of cool air over your back as the duvet lifts at one side, and the mattress sinks behind you. Missy whispers your name. Smiling to yourself, you feign sleep.

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Please Fix the Story pt 3 - Zombie Apocalypse

The story continues. At least one more part in the zombie world before moving on to the next one. 

Part 1 / Part 2 Linked here. (If I get to 5 pts or so I’ll make a master post)

Enjoy!

_____________________________

“Why’d they let YOU in?”

An angry shout stopped us in our tracks as we reached the center of the camp.

I paused, smiling. Ah, the nostalgic smell of unnecessary internal strife. NOW it feels like a proper post apocalyptic story.  I raised a hand in greeting. “Hey there, kind and pleasant person, I’m Blaire!”

“Don’t pretend like we’re friends! You shouldn’t be here!”  The angry young man stepped closer, allowing me to get a better look at his face. His copper colored hair framed sharp, angular features, his brown eyes practically burning with rage as he tried his best to stare a hole through me. 

He seems familiar. 

Searching my character’s memories, I was finally able to place him.  Jason, the hero’s best friend, who had gone to high school with my character. Before I could celebrate placing his identity, however,  I felt a surge of deep terror flood through me. My heart beat wildly in my chest, a cold sweat breaking out on my forehead. I frowned, pushing back the feeling that weren’t my own, but those from my character.

It’s rare for emotions from the character to be this strong, even in the last world I was able to easily put away any feelings of the character I’ve taken over. Why is she so scared? I don’t see anything in her memories that would warrant her being frightened of Jason. And why is he so antagonistic towards me?

As I stood there, trying to comb through what information my character knew about him, he had continued to rant. “Eric, what were you thinking accepting people like her?!”

Eric sent Hannah away with a smile, before turning towards his friend with a tired expression. “They have extra supplies and skills, both of which we’re in desperate need of.”

“We don’t need HER!”

As they argued, Liam walked up to me, pulling an apple from his bag. “Want a snack?”

“Sure, these idiots might take a while, I’d hate to get hypoglycemic while they argue.” Before I could say anything further, he pulled out a knife and silently started cutting the peel off.

“What are you doing?”

“Peeling the apple for you.”

“Why?”

“…” He paused, looking honestly confused. “I’m not sure, but I feel like this would make you happy.”

I couldn’t help but shake my head in amazement. “I love apples, but I can’t stand the peel. How did you know?”

“Really?” He grinned, continuing to peel. “My support husband instincts must be kicking in.”

“You’re very… optimistic.”

“Thanks!”

I sighed. “Don’t get attached, Liam. It won’t end well.” I thought of the heart wrenching pain I had felt when pressing “No”  in the last world. That was just after 4 weeks. If I have to stay here years…

“It’s okay. I already count myself fortunate being your lackey.” His smile was bright, but his attention to the apple never wavered. “As long as you live well. I think I could die happy.”

I shuddered. The habit was just too strong. A character casually mentioning dying in a story…such a red flag. “Try not to die. Happy or otherwise.”

“Yes ma’am.” He saluted, his silly expression making me feel less tense. 

“Blaire! I’m talking to you!” Jason had finished arguing with Eric while Liam and I chatted and was obviously still furious.

I felt the same edge of fear from the character at the sight of him again, and pushed it back down with irritation.

“That must be so exhausting to be so angry all the time.”  I muttered quietly as I watched him approach.

Liam nodded. “No kidding. I think I’ll need a nap just from watching him perform.”

Jason stopped just a few feet away, sneering. “I don’t know what lies you sold Eric earlier, but don’t’ forget, I know the real you! You’re a rich brat without any skills! You’re deadweight to any group, just a worthless bit….ARGH!” He flew backwards as a mostly-peeled apple struck him in the mouth, splitting his lip.

“Oops. Sorry did that hit you?” Liam watched him coldly, not sounding sorry at all. “My hands get slippery when I hear pure stupid.”

“Is that why people around you tend to get hit with flying projectiles often?

“It’s a curse…” He paused, then looked mortified. “THAT WAS MY LAST APPLE!”

“It’s okay.”

“WHY DIDN’T I USE A STONE?” He groaned into his hands. “That idiot wasn’t worth losing your snack! Now you’re going to go hungry!”

“I’m fine…” I tried to comfort him, but he had already pulled out a walkie-talkie and was growling instructions in some sort of code.

Jason, on the other hand, was now pointing in shock at Liam. “You! You’re William the destroyer!”

“…” I glanced over at the man who was still panicking over his lack of snack options to offer me.

“What’s the leader of the Blood Wolves doing here?” Jason was now looking nervous, clambering to his feet and keeping a good distance from us both

Liam ignored him, continuing to talk on his walkie talkie. Shaking my head, I stepped in between him. “He’s with me. Do you really want to argue now about whether or not we should be here?”

“But… but…”

“Jason!” Eric had returned, a grim look on his face. “I told you to leave them alone. We’ll go out hunting for supplies tomorrow, they can prove their worth then.”

Jason’s expression showed his clear unwillingness, but he slowly nodded. “Sure.” Glancing towards me, he sneered. “Then I guess tomorrow we’ll see just how useless you are.”

“Did I step on your dog or something? Seriously, try to reign in the hostility there, buddy.”  With that, I turned and walked towards the empty tent Eric had pointed out earlier. 

Despite my casual tone and outer appearance, my hands were clenched at my sides, the fingernails digging into my palms to keep my hands from shaking. My back was soaked with sweat, an uncontrollable reaction from the character I had become.

What is going on? It had been a long timesince I had been unable to fully control my character’s emotions like this. I swallowed uncomfortably. The sensation  was unpleasant, a sense of incongruity between body and soul that I couldn’t quite overcome. It reminded me too much of the first mission I had undergone, the worst time of my life that I could still remember.

Waking up without memories, with no idea of who I was or why I was there, thrust into a romantic drama where my mission was to fulfill the role of a foolish, calculating villainous side character. Overwhelmed by intense love for the male lead and mind-numbing hatred for his heroine, I lost myself in despair. Later, I would learn to maintain my sense of identity. Even if I didn’t know who I was, I at least knew who I wasn’t.

And I wasn’t this character. A spoiled, angry young woman who thought the world revolved around her.

So why can’t I remember clearly? Not just Jason, even the events surrounding my character’s kidnapping and death were vague.

Something’s wrong with this world.

Sitting down with a sigh, I pulled out my phone.

“Let’s see how helpful this new ‘character description’ function is.” I typed in Jason’s name. After a moment to process, the phone’s screen filled with text.

Jason, the hero’s best friend and this world’s hopeless secondary male lead. In the story, he is shown to be in love with Hannah, but hides his feelings for fear of hurting his friends. He often supports her from behind, helping the hero rescue her during her frequent misadventures and kidnappings. Despite his devoted acts, Hannah remains blissfully unaware of his feelings, and treats him as a friend.

Nothing to explain why my character is scared of him. I grinned maliciously as I re-read the part about his unrequited love. “No wonder he’s so high strung. If he were nicer I might even feel sorry for him.”

Unable to control my curiosity, I typed in a second name.

“William.”

Character unknown.

“Hmm. Let’s try ‘Liam.’”

Character unknown.

“Blood Wolves.”

The most notorious and highly skilled gang in this story’s world, they often sell their services as mercenaries, and are considered a major power in the post-apocalyptic society.

I stared at the screen, even more confused. Such an important group, but the leader isn’t mentioned? Who is Liam?

But no matter how much I searched, there were no answers.

_____________________________

Shortly later, Liam called me out.  The smell of freshly cooked food hastened my steps, and I sat at a table across from Hannah, ignoring her wide-eyed look of fear at my approach.

“The others are checking the perimeter. Here, I made you dinner!” Liam placed a bowl in front of both of us with a proud grin. It was filled with a stew, with vegetables and chicken. Hannah stared at the food suspiciously, although I didn’t see anything wrong with the food. Carefully, I lifted a spoonful up to my mouth, my eyes widening with shock.

“It’s delicious!”  I took another few bites before pausing. “Where did you get the ingredients?”

Liam sat down next to me, peeling an apple with an affectionate grin. “My friends happened to have gathered some extra supplies and brought them over.”

“… You sent the Blood Wolves on a snack run?”

“What were they supposed to do? Let you go hungry?” He raised an eyebrow.  “They wouldn’t dream of it.”

“I don’t know how you manage to sound so supportive and yet so… ominous at the same time.”

“It’s one of my many talents, I’m so glad you noticed!”

Hannah watched our exchange back and forth, before looking down at the food once more. She seemed very hungry, but she still hadn’t made any moves towards eating.

“You should try it, it tastes really good!” As I coaxed the girl sitting across from me, I saw Liam beaming with pride.

“…” She stared silently at us both for a long few moments before nodding and taking a bite, her hands shaking and almost spilling the stew from her spoon. As she swallowed the food however, her eyes filled with tears.

Why do all the heroine’s I meet cry so easily? Maybe the problem is with me? Do I just not cry enough?

“It tastes so good!” She ate quickly, blinking to keep back the tears that were threatening to spill over.

Oh… so… happy tears? That’s refreshing. I patted her on the shoulder gently. “Not had a lot of hot meals lately, huh?”

Hannah nodded at my sympathetic words. “Yeah, Eric and James are too busy with security and supply runs. And I…” Her words trailed off.

Why hello there, mission opportunity!I rejoiced inwardly but kept a gentle look on my face.  “You what?”

“I’m weak… I can’t fight. I can’t even cook.” She looked up at me her eyes still wet with unshed tears. “I wish I could be scary like you…”

… Scary?

Liam laughed at my dumbfounded expression, quickly silencing himself as I turned to glare at him. Looking back over at Hannah, I tried to smile comfortingly, the expression stiffening as a look of terror flashed across her face.

“You want to be a well-rounded useful person? I can help you.” Not like I have a choice.

“Really?” Hannah clasped her hands together in front of her. She still looked frightened, but excitement was clearly pushing back her fear. “I really want to be helpful!”

“Really. Just come watch me tomorrow during the outing. I’ll show you what I can do. From there, we’ll come up with a plan.”

She now was smiling brightly, giving off the impression of a small, adorable animal that should be protected. “I promise I’ll work hard, Boss!”

She trusts me so quickly… no wonder she kept getting kidnapped. 

“Wait... Did you just call me Boss…?”

“One day, I pray I can be just as terrifying as you!” Hannah cheered excitedly. 

“…”

I feel like her motivation has gone in a weird direction.

As I struggled on how to answer her, Liam nodded solemnly. “It’s good to have goals, but you shouldn’t aim too high.” He handed me the freshly peeled apple, and continued. “No one’s as terrifying as your Boss. But with hard work and effort, one day, you can reach ‘lackey status’ like me!”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” The two high-fived as I watched on silently, feeling tired.

“… I’m going to bed.”

_____________________________

The next morning, we all headed out, running into a group of zombies, almost immediately.  We halted a good distance away to discuss a plan.

“Will it be okay?” Hannah’s face looked extremely nervous as she looked at the zombies in the distance.

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!” Jason smiled at Hannah, his eyes full of tender emotion.  “I promise, as long as I have breath in my body, no zombie will get near you.”

I still felt a small thread of fear running through me as I looked at him, but fortunately, it was much easier to control now. I rolled my eyes at his words. Didn’t the character summary say hehides his feelings? How is this subtle at all?

Eric stared at his friend silently for a moment, and then patted Hannah’s head with a sigh. “Make sure to stay away from the fight.” Loading up a handgun, he glanced over at me. “Are you coming?”

“Ha, bet you’re gonna run and hide, huh?” Jason glared at me, his face looking extremely punchable, forcing me to hold back.  

I sighed, admiring my self –restraint. “I’ll take the ten on the right.”

“There’s only fifteen!”

“Yeah, so we’ll split it by skill.” I turned back and grinned. “Ten for me, four for Eric and one for you.”

Pulling out my sword, I headed over, ignoring his stuttered complaints.

GRRRR.

The closest of the zombies was reaching out towards my head, several fingers missing from its hands, its half rotten jaw open, ready to bite.

I lopped it head off, knocking the body away from me.

IT SMELLS SO BAD!!! I had only been able to wash in cold water from a basin. I still desperately missed hot showers.

“Go Boss!”

“Yeah! Kill the zombies! You’re the best!”

Shouts from behind me caught my attention. After killing several more zombies I glanced over, giving out a loud sigh at the sight.

Liam and Hannah cheered off to the side, jumping up and down with excitement.

“Zombies don’t stand a chance against her!”

“Yeah! They’re toast!”

… I’m just going to ignore them for now.

In the corner of my eye I saw Jason struggling to defeat his first zombie, waving a metal bat but missing several passes. He backed up, putting some distance between him and his foe, and turned to stare longingly at Hannah for a few moments, before looking over to glare at me as he realized who she was cheering for. I smiled and winked, watching with interest as his face turned even redder with rage.

Feeling an undeniable urge to taunt, I called out to him as I continued to decapitate zombies.

“Don’t lose focus, little Jason! Or do you need me to help you with your one zombie too?”

“SHUT UP!”

“Try not to bully him, please.” Eric called out as he calmly dodged attacks, occasional shots ringing out. Each was a perfect headshot, as expected of the hero of an action novel. “Jason is sensitive to criticism.”

I nodded, kicking a zombie head into the air and batting it away with my sword, watching it sail away with interest. “Sorry, I’ll try harder to support his emotional well being.”

“Thanks!”

Having finished off our respective zombies, Eric and I high fived before heading back towards the rest of the group.

“Guys… I’m still fighting here!” Jason’s helpless cries caused me to pause.

I glanced at Eric “Will he be okay?”

“Yeah, he’s just milking it so Hannah will pay more attention to him.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Eric shrugged. “Not really, but he doesn’t step over the line and extra hands are necessary, so I just ignore it.”

Is this a… reasonable male lead? Could it be possible?

“Okay, then.” I raised a hand, not turning around. “Good luck Jason, we believe in you!”

Eric grinned and called out behind him. “See you back in camp, buddy!”

“Boss!” Hannah ran up with a grin. “That was amazing!”

Liam stepped closer, handing me a thermos with hot tea. “I told you she was awesome! She saved my life, you know.”

I ignored him, turning my attention to Hannah. Time to make some progress on this mission. “Did what you see today inspire you?”

“Yeah!”

“Do you want to be helpful?”

“Yeah!”

Getting excited, I pumped a fist into the air. “You want to be strong and fight along side me?!”

“…” Hannah stared at me in shock. “What? No. Fight zombies? It’s scary… and kind of gross.”

I looked at her silently. “I… thought you were inspired?”

“Yeah! But not like that.” She nodded firmly. “I realized I was too eager when I wanted to be as terrifying as you…”

“HEY!”

“So I’ve decided.” She grinned. “I’m going to be a professional lackey, just like Liam!”

“…”

“…”

Eric and I sighed in unison.

Liam smiled, patting Hannah on the shoulder. “Now don’t look down on us weak and vulnerable support spouses!”

“You’re not even weak…and we’re not married...”

“We may depend on our stronger counterparts to protect our lives, but we can keep everything running smoothly so you don’t have to worry about anything else.” He looked at me expectantly. “How is your tea?”

Giving up on arguing, I sipped it, and paused, shocked. “It’s… amazing. How did you even make hot tea out here?”

“It’s a trade secret.” Hannah and Liam gave each other a thumbs up, as Hannah handed Liam a thermos, which he drank from silently.

We headed back to camp.

“I feel like we’re forgetting something.” I muttered as I sipped my tea.

“GUYS? WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!! I’m STILL FIGHTING!” Jason’s angry shriek pierced the air, but no one turned around.

“I know what it is!” Liam grinned, cleaning one of my hands with a warm towel before handing me a freshly peeled apple. “Here, snack!”

“HANNAH? ERIC? ANYONE?”

I nodded, taking a bite. “That must have been it.”

_____________________________

A few days passed.

I tried again to convince Hannah to train to fight, thinking that combat skills would be the fastest way to  change her status as kidnappable dead weight.  After much convincing, she agreed to start training with me.

Unfortunately, the results were not what I had hoped for.

“OWW!” Hannah laid on the ground, staring up at me sadly. “I’m dying.”

“All I did was have you hold my sword. We haven’t even started fighting yet.”

“It hurts.”

“How did you even hurt yourself?” I stared at the small cut on her leg in consternation. “You only had the sword for fifteen seconds?”

Needless to say, the sword was confiscated. Strengthening exercises were meant with similar outcomes.

“How’s it going?” Liam brought me a bowl of hot soup, as I stared in disbelief at the figure attempting to do a pushup in front of me.

I pulled out my phone, glancing at the mission screen. The first completion bar for Hannah’s mission had been stuck at 10% since we started. “Not good. This is still her first push up.”

“Well, everyone takes a different amount of time…”

“We’ve been out here four hours.”

“Oh… how’s the soup?”

I sighed, taking time to try it. “It’s amazing. I’m still convinced you might be magic to be able to cook like this in the apocalypse.”

“This is just the beginning of my skills!”

I drank the soup quietly, staring at Liam while thinking.

“What is it?” He grinned. “You think I’m handsome and finally want to upgrade me from lackey to support spouse?”

“Who are you?”

My question was whispered, but he still heard it, a look of helplessness spreading across his face. This wasn’t the first time I had asked him this.

“I’ve told you everything, Blaire. I swear I’m not hiding anything from you.”

“You’ve told me everything you’ve remembered.” I corrected him quietly, turning away. Focusing my attention back on Hannah, I couldn’t help but feel discouraged. “This isn’t going to work.”

“You said you’re trying to make her a well-rounded, useful person, right?” Liam finally spoke up, his expression thoughtful. “You might be pushing her in the wrong direction. There are many different ways to help out, fighting is just one of them.”

“Yeah… but that’s what I’m good at.” I rubbed my head. “If I have to teach her other skills, I might not be able to.”

I had memories from multiple story worlds, but most of them required me to act as a brain dead villain, not staying long. Only a few provided practical skills such as the assassin guild story.  A sense of frustration filled me.  

“I can teach her cooking, supply management, and basic book-keeping.”  Liam watched me, seemingly worried. “And you can teach her your special skill.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“Negotiation.” He grinned. “It’s amazing to watch you reduce that idiot Jason to an apoplectic fit every time you argue.”

I thought it over, a small return smile forming on my face. “I guess I have developed some good interpersonal skills. I once helped my brother overcome an obsession with behavior modification training.”

“You have a brother?” He asked, his eyes widening.

“In a different life.” I felt a pang of loneliness for the time I had spent in the previous world. I wondered if Adam was doing well. Looking back at Liam, I reached over and patted him on the head.

“I’m glad you’re here.” That I got to see you again. Even if you look different. Even if you don’t remember me.

Liam froze with shock at my touch for a few moments, before his face lit up with delight. “I’m glad I’m here too!”

I looked back down at Hannah, who still hadn’t completed her first push up. “Let’s go with your plan.”

Scratching the plan to make the heroine a one woman army, it was time to make her into an overpowered support character.

[northcarolinanative]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞

A/N: So this is a little heavy, but I am always interested in the bad characters here we are, talking about Rafe falling into his addiction. I’ll warn you, there’s like one good moment in the whole thing, but ya know. I owe literally all the credit for this story to @softstarkey because she is a GODSEND. She requested the blurb that this is based on, and I took inspo from her Rafe fic for the formatting, AND she helped me figure out so much of it and helped me read over it. I did not want to romanitize addiction in anyway, that is not what I wanted to do at ALL. As always my requests/asks/messages are open. PLEASE let me know what you think! 

Description: The four times that Y/N stayed and the time that she finally had enough. Rafe is falling deeper and deeper into his addiction. His girlfriend Y/N isn’t having any of it and in her attempt to get him sober she refuses to lose herself. 

Warnings: This 5.7k of PURE angst, This is a TOXIC relationship, deals with drug use, peer pressure, anxiety, self-doubt, drug addiction, a little violence. (i told y’all it was a lot) 

The First Time - The Basement  

The walls seemed to vibrate throughout the house as the bass-heavy music was blared from speakers. Lights of all colors were flashing across the walls. The air was warm and thick with smoke and must. Rafe and I waded ourselves through the group of sweaty people jumping around to the beat of the music. The floor was already slick with countless spilled drinks and the fog of smoke was clouding the room. We were able to make our way to the edge of the party in a small hallway to meet Rafe’s friends. 

“Hey bro! How’s it going?” Topper said, pulling Rafe into an awkward side hug. He stumbled a little bit as he made his way to the stairs that lead to the basement. I wasn’t completely oblivious to what happened in the basement of the Kook mansions. Coming down the stairs I felt my heart rate increase with each stair that we descended. The only thing keeping me grounded was the warmth of Rafe’s large hand interlaced with mine. I looked over across the rather vacant basement floor. There was a table that had a few familiar faces from the other parties or the country club events that Rafe had brought me to. 

Rafe smiled and waved at the group, some of them addressed me, causing me to also smile in return. I gripped onto Rafe’s hand tighter and pulled myself closer into my side. Rafe was quick to take the seat across from Kelce, pulling me into his lap. I played along and nodded with their conversations, enjoying spending time with Rafe. The music was so loud that it made it hard to concentrate, that and the way that Rafe’s had rested on my thigh, rubbing it every once and awhile.

Kelce leaned forward grabbing both mine and Rafe’s attention. “So you got any of the good stuff for us tonight?” He asked, rubbing his hands together playfully. There was a chorus of the agreement as everyone looked to Rafe. I looked around, my eyebrows knitted in confusion as my eyes met Rafe’s. His eyes softened a bit when they met mine, but he quickly averted his gaze and plastered on a fake smile. 

“Only if you’re planning on paying!” He said with a laugh. He secured his arm around my waist as he shifted under me. When he pulled his hand out from his pockets my heart sank to my stomach and I felt my nerves overtake me. I started to feel sick. Rafe placed a rolled-up twenty-dollar bill on the glass table along with a black credit card, and lastly a large bag filled with white powder. Coke. I stared at it, my eyes no doubt growing wide. I was frozen in place, not able to fully process that Rafe was the dealer that brought the coke to the parties. 

I watched as Kelce handed a few bills to Rafe, who then scooted the materials across the table to him. He was smiling, watching as he tucked the money into his pocket. I scooted off Rafe’s lap, pulling myself as far back into the couch as possible. I wanted to be as far from the scene in front of me as I could, but the growing crowd of people made it seem impossible to slip away. I watched as Kelce took the card from Rafe who poured a small amount of the powder from the bag onto the table. Kelce skillfully cut the power into three lines. 

My heart rate sped up as I watched the scene around me unfold, a situation that I never thought I would be in, much less with my boyfriend. Kelce leaned down over the table, holding the bill to his nose and took a line, then another. I watched as he tried to hand the bill to Topper, who was too out of it to grab it. Everyone in the group laughed at Topper’s intoxicated state. I just grimaced and watched as Kelce shrugged, taking the last line for himself. He dropped the bill, letting it roll back toward Rafe and me. He fell back on the couch, a look of relief washing over him and a weird smile crossed his face. 

What scared me the most was how intrigued I was by how he must have been feeling? I found myself leaning forward, watching the rest of the group take their turns inhaling the white powder. It was the same cycle each time, money, so much money, then they would grab the bill and pull the drug into their nose, then they would stumble back smiling. Every time they seemed to lose the look in their eye. It was a little under an hour, and everyone in the basement had made their way to the table and gotten their fill for the night. 

There was only a small amount of coke in a pile on the table. Rafe leaned forward grabbing the black credit card between his slender fingers. He quickly and skillfully cut it into two longer, thinner lines than the others I had seen that night. Topper approached behind him, patting Rafe’s shoulder. “You made it good tonight! You planning to celebrate bro?” He laughed and Rafe just nodded. Kelce and a few others were still at the table talking and chatting but now focused on Rafe. 

“You aren’t going to offer your girl any?” Kelce asked from across the table. He had a girl in his lap but was fully focused on the three of us. Rafe quickly turned to face me, almost as if he had forgotten that I was there. He reached across the table and grabbed the rolled-up bill. My heart rate continued to skyrocket. I could feel the pulsing of blood being pumped through my body, waiting for each of Rafe’s moves. He held the bill up to me so that it was directly in front of my face. I looked between his hand and his face, quickly trying to figure out his expression. I shook my head quickly, telling him no. 

“Come on Y/N. Live a little!” Topper stated from beside Rafe. Rafe just rolled his eyes. 

“More for me,” He said, sending a wink my way. He leaned down over the table, just like I had watched all the other people do before him, but this time it was different. I felt sick as he brought the bill to his nose. He inhaled the first line, the without pause moved to the second then leaning up. I watched in shock as he wiped off his nose and leaned back upright, collecting his things from the table and shoving them back in his pocket. He fell back into the couch, his eyes fluttering closed as he let out a content breath. 

I took the moment to look around at all the people practically laying on each other in a sorry attempt to dance. A few of the others had filtered from upstairs and vice versa. Rafe’s hand around my shoulders pulled me back to the moment. “Would you like to dance with me, sweetheart?” He whispered in my ear, causing me to blush. I smiled softly at him and nodded, letting him pull me up to my feet. I giggled at the goofy way that he was swaying away from the table to a more open area. The songs that were playing were slower, and unusual for a party, but nonetheless gave me and Rafe a chance to talk. 

Rafe settled his hands on my hips and mine rested on his shoulders. I let my head rest on his chest, letting him guide us back and forth. “Are you have a good time?” He asked dipping his head down to look at me. I nodded, but once my eyes met his I could feel my mood drop. The drug was starting to take effect. The rims of his eyes were redder and the glass look of his eyes was haunting. 

“Why’d you do it?” I asked him. 

“Why’d I do what sweetheart?” Rafe laughed awkwardly, moving a shaky hand up to trace the side of my face affectionately. 

“Bring the drugs,” I questioned bluntly. 

“I owe my dad a lot of money, this was the quickest way to make some cash.” I nodded my head slowly, still unsure if I was satisfied by his answer. 

“And do you,” I coughed slightly, pausing briefly. “Do you partake in that a lot?” I asked swallowing the nervous lump that had formed in my throat. 

Rafe laughed softly at the awkwardness of my question, trying his best to lighten the mood. “You mean do Coke?” He asked bluntly. I just nodded, looking at him through my eyelashes. “Sometimes, not often though, It’s just like alcohol, but a little bit better.” He said laughing awkwardly as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s just a little party favor Y/N, nothing serious.” I felt my face move to show my worry. I didn’t like that Rafe got high, but stayed quiet because it isn’t my life and I can not dictate what he does. 

The song changed to one that was more party appropriate. The group in the basement started screaming lyrics and jumping around in a bad attempt to dance. Rafe and I laughed at our friends before Rafe was pulling me into the crowd to dance with them. 

The Second Time - In His Room 

I had been waiting outside the Cameron Mansion for what felt like hours. I was debating whether or not to knock on the door. I was worried about Rafe, he had not responded to me in a few hours. Rafe never did that. Even if we had gotten into a silly fight he always told me that he was at least okay. He knew how I worried I got. The gravel on the driveway crunched under my feet as I made my way up the oak tree lined pathway to the front door. The shade cooled down the air that passed through. Each step was harder to take, as I felt that I was swallowing my pride showing up here. I was worried, something in my gut told me to be worried. 

I raised a shaky hand to carefully knock on the door. I tried not to make it seem as urgent as it felt. I took a step back hoping that when the door opened Rafe would be standing there with an apologetic look on his face and wrap me into a tight hug. The daydream was ripped from me and Rose pulled the door open. Her smile was as bright as her blonde hair when she moved the door open and stood to the side to let me in. “Come on in.” He said, looking up the stairs she nodded. “I assume you’re here for Rafe?” She questioned. I just nodded my head, not trusting my voice. “He’s in his room.” She softly smiled before turning back to the large living room I assumed she came from.

 I made my way up the grand spiral staircase, my hand gripping the railing a little too tight before I found myself standing in front of Rafe’s doorway. I reached up to knock on the door, three soft raps to it. “Rafe it’s me, can we please talk?” I heard a little bit of commotion behind the door, only causing my worry to spike further. 

I heard Rafe cough slightly before his voice sounded from behind the door. “Y/N I can’t talk about this right now. Now's not a good time!” I felt a pang of hurt in my chest and the tears started to prick in the corners of my eyes. 

“Rafe we have to talk this out! It’s just a little bump in the road baby!” I begged from the other side of the door, wishing I could just see him so we could work this out. I heard my voice crack but silently hoped Rafe missed it. 

“Y/N please, just leave me alone okay?” His words made my breathing pick up. I didn’t like what was going on. Rafe and I never fought like this. I felt my hands shake as I reached for the doorknob. The cool metal was telling me that it was wrong to invade his privacy, but my feelings were getting the best of me. I turned the knob and leaned into the door. I closed my eyes waiting for Rafe to say something, but silence hung in the air for a few seconds, before I finally opened my eyes. 

In front of me stood Rafe, leaned against his dresser with two clean lines of white powder cut out in front of him and one small pile of residue. He had a bill in his hand, I looked up to his face to be met with him wiping his nose on the back of his hand. I quickly moved to shut the door behind me, leaning against it. The tears had begun to fall as I watched Rafe try his hardest to backtrack. 

“Y/N it’s not what you think! I promise I was just-” Rafe started, frantically trying to cover up what I had just witnessed. 

“You were just taking a few lines?” I said cutting him off, my tone dripping with anger. He looked up at me, his eyes mirroring the hurt that I felt. “You said it was a party favor, Rafe! This doesn’t look like a party to me!” I said raising my voice, forgetting that we were in his house. 

“Shhh!” Rafe silenced me. “Keep your voice down Y/N!” He reprimanded me. I rolled my eyes, walking further into his room. He backed up so he was sitting on the edge of his bed, but I only followed him. 

I moved so that I was right in front of him. I was hurt, and the tears streaming down my face were signs enough for him. “You.” I spoke harshly, pointing my finger into his chest. “You lied to me.” I let out a deep breath, waiting for him to rebuttal, but he didn’t. 

Rafe simply put his arms around my waist pulling me closer to him. He looked up at me, his eyes were glossy and tired. “You’re right. I did lie. I lied to myself too.” He spoke, shaking his head. “I told myself it was only to make money, it was only at parties, but today was so hard.” His voice broke, and I watched as he let his head fall into my stomach defeated. 

“Rafe.” I said, running my fingers through his unfixed hair. He wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. He was crying too, I felt every sob that shook his body, also shake mine. I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling bad for getting angry with him. 

Then my eyes scanned the room and my gaze fell, once again, on the two unfinished lines of coke on the dresser. I slowly pulled myself away from him. I kneeled down in front of him, feeling my heart shatter once again with the way that he looked so broken in front of me. His glassed over stare was empty and that scared me the most. 

I took his face between both my hands, making him look straight at me. I felt my face soften at the look he gave me. The tears were still running rapidly down my face as I spoke. “I know it’s hard, but let’s talk about it okay?” I said, watching as he weakly nodded his head. “Let’s figure out a healthier way to cope. I don’t want this for you.” My voice was soft and surprisingly steady as he just nodded slightly to what I was saying. 

“It’s just we had a fight, I thought you were done with me.” He said, his voice breaking again. “And then my dad,” He said, another sob raking over his body. “He just-” He paused in between deep breaths. “He’ll never see me as good enough. I’ll always be the biggest Cameron disappointment!” He said, falling to the floor with me. I wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him as close to me as I could. I closed my eyes, hearing his sobs and struggling breaths making me more upset, but I tried my best to stay strong for him. 

I ran my hand comfortingly through his hair and along his spine, whispering sweet, encouraging words in his ears. Slowly his breathing became normal and he stopped crying. He pulled away from me, just far enough that he could look at me, still keeping our bodies tangled together. “I’m sorry, Y/N, for everything, the fight, the drugs, all of it.” He stated, letting out a deep breath of relief. 

“Thank you.” I said. I wasn’t about to forgive him for using drugs. “I appreciate it.” My tone became more stern. “Can you show me that? Please tell me you won’t turn to drugs again? Call me? Call anyone? Okay?” I begged him. My voice was needy and weak. 

He nodded, “I’ll do better.” He whispered, before pulling me back into his embrace. 

The Third Time - Midsummers 

I smoothed the front of my dress, making sure that it was alright. Sarah had talked me into getting ready with her, something about avoiding Topper. So I obliged. I was standing, looking in her full-length mirror at my appearance. My normal casual wear being swapped out for a more elegant dress, my makeup, and hair matching. It was making me a little uneasy to be this dressed up. Sarah exited her room in a long white dress and matching flowers twisted through her hair. 

“Here you go!” She said handing me my flower crown. “Nothing a little hot glue didn’t fix!” She joked, causing us both to giggle. She stood in front of me, kindly helping me pin the flower crown to my head. 

She stepped back and took in my appearance. I watched nervously as she looked over my body, a small smile forming on her face. “You look gorgeous! Rafe is going to die when he sees you.” Her kind words make my face heat up in a blush and a large smile formed on my face. 

“You look amazing too!” I beamed at her. “Topper might actually die.” I laughed, but Sarah just rolled her eyes and groaned. I gave her a confused look as we grabbed our bags and made our way to the door. 

“Don’t even get me started.” She said, putting her hand up dramatically. “Topper and I are just not,” she stopped, and let out an exaggerated groan. 

“Alright.” I spoke informatively. “Noted” We both laughed as we made our way to the stairs and started our way down. I gripped the railing tightly. The heels that I had chosen to wear were making it hard to walk. I silently cursed myself as the slinging pain on the back of my heel was already starting to form. 

Sarah and I made our way around the curve to be met with the two boys, Rafe and Topper, as well as the rest of the Cameron family. I took a moment to look over Rafe. He was wearing a powder blue suit that complemented his hair and his complexion well. He looked good. Ward stood at the end of the stairs and held out his hand to help Sarah, who was in front of me, down the stairs. Rafe was quickly behind him, extending his hand to me. I gripped it tightly. His hand was claimer than normal, but I decided to ignore it, as I practically fell into him. 

“Woah.” Rafe said, putting his other hand on my hip to steady me. We both laughed at my inability to walk in heels. “You alright?” He asked, but his gaze was at his father, who was quickly ushering us out the door. 

“Yes, thanks for catching me.” I giggled.

“You look absolutely gorgeous,” Rafe said, causing me to smile up at him. Rafe tugged me behind him, as we made our way to a large limo that the Cameron’s always rented for Midsummers. We all piled in the back of the car, the others in the front, leaving the four of us in the back. Rafe slipped his arm around my shoulders pulling him close. 

The ride was a short one, but Rafe was worrying me. He quickly tapped a rhythm into my shoulder, his leg bouncing up and down at a quick pace. His eyes quickly darting around the limo. He was unable to hold the conversation with the rest of us, zoning out. Tonight was a big night for his father and something didn't add up. 

“Rafe?” I questioned, grabbing his attention. He turned to look at me, and even in the dim lights of the limo, I could see the look in his eyes. I instantly felt the anger begin to boil in my blood, making me hot. I was met with the same eyes that I was met with at the party. They were empty and glassed over. Each one slightly watery and rimmed with red. I felt the look of my disgust wash over my face. “Unbelievable.” 

“Y/N,” Rafe said, his voice soft trying not to gain attention. 

I shook my head. “I don’t want to hear it.” 

“Look it’s a- “ He was cut off by the door to the limo opening and Ward pushing us out of the car. I wanted nothing more than to pull Rafe aside and figure out what was going through his head. I knew that would only cause more issues, so I waited. We walked in with my arm through Rafe’s. The entire crowd clapping as we entered, something I don’t think I would ever get used to. We did all the Midsummer’s formalities. 

Rafe and I were standing off to the side of the party when he grabbed up two flutes of champagne. He held one out to me and I took it, watching as he quickly drank his. 

“Is it really smart to be high and drunk?” I asked, anger laced in my tone. “At midsummers.” 

“What Y/N? It’s a party!” He defended himself. I scoffed in disbelief, shaking my head at him. 

“Rafe this isn’t ‘a party!’” I exclaimed, pinching the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes in frustration.  “This is an important night for you! You’ve got potential jobs here!” Rafe just returned my sentiment with a scoff, rolling his eyes. 

“You sound like my dad,” he fired back, dramatically leaning against the wall, looking out over the party goers. 

“Well, you keep telling me that you’re gonna get your shit together, but I don’t see it, Rafe.” I let the words come out of my mouth before I could think, almost regretting them after Rafe turned to look at me. His eyes wide with disbelief. 

“You don’t think I’m trying?” He said, raising his voice. I leaned away from him taking a step back at his sudden aggression. I felt myself flinch at the harshness of his tone. 

“Look I need you to keep your promises, Rafe. I can’t keep doing this with you” I felt the tear pricking at my eyes again. I refused to cry in front of him over this. I need to show him that I was strong and that I meant it. 

“What are you saying Y/N?” He asked, his voice becoming lower, more fearful. 

“I’m saying that either this stops, or you're gonna lose me Rafe,”  I said, taking a deep breath, finally feeling a weight lift off my chest. 

The Fourth Time - The Withdrawals 

My phone was vibrating harshly against the wood of my desk, pulling me from the intense focus I had on my textbook in front of me. I huffed, closing the book. I picked up my phone, turning it to face me. The screen was lit up with a bright light and Kelce’s picture filled the screen. It had been Kelce’s turn to take care of Rafe as we tried to get him sober. He had an important job interview in a few days, and we were all gonna be damned if we let this slip away from him. He said he was gonna get clean and I finally believed him. He was finally trying to get his shit together like he promised. I quickly moved to swipe my finger across the bottom to answer the call. 

“Kelce?” I questioned. 

“Y/N! Oh thank god!” He breathed, in the background I heard yelling and a lot of commotion. “I need your help. How fast can you get here?” He asked, before more static and a few more crashing sounds came from the other end. 

I was already on my feet, slipping on my shoes before he even finished his sentence. “I’m on my way,” I said before quickly moving down the stairs. I practically stumbled down the last few in my rush. I swiped my keys from the counter and quickly hopped in the car, the door barely shut before I was taking off. 

The needle on the speedometer kept moving further to the right as I tapped my hands anxiously against the hot material of the steering wheel. The time seemed to be moving slower and slower the closer that I got to the Cameron house.  My tires screeched as I pulled into the drive of the Cameron’s home, earning a few dirty looks from their neighbors. Not that I noticed, my goal was to find Kelce and Rafe.

To be honest, it scared the hell out of me to see this side of Rafe, I hated seeing what his addiction was doing to him, it was eating him from the inside out, creating him into the shell of a man that he once was. He was getting angry or violent when he would take them or when he would go too long without them. That’s why I gave him the ultimatum.  On the outside was the Rafe that I had fallen in love with, and what was left of him was dwindling with each blow that he accepted. 

I slipped into the large wooden front door, sliding in trying not to alert anyone of my presents in the home. I closed the door behind me slowly, before hearing a loud cough and groan come from upstairs. I took a deep breath and shook my head trying to mentally prepare myself. I walked quickly up the large spiral staircase leading up to the bedrooms. I knocked lightly, before sliding into the room. My heart dropped when I saw the mess that had been created. 

Nearly everything that had once sat on a surface was knocked on the floor. Ceramic pieces and glass covered the floor, water bottles turned over and leaking onto the floor. Every surface was wiped bare. The usual neatly made bed was a mess of tangled sheets and pillows thrown effortlessly across it. 

“Y/N?” Kelce said, slipping out of the bathroom. We both flinched at the loud noise from the bathroom. It sounded like Rafe was throwing up. “I got him calmed down, but I think that this is gonna be the worst part of all this.” He spoke, running his hand over his head and face in distress. I just shook my head, understanding that Rafe would need all of us from now until this was over. 

“Did you call Top?” I asked, already making my way towards the entrance to the bathroom. I saw his nod before I made my way into the bathroom. My breath caught in my throat and I felt my skin go cold at the sight in front of me. Rafe’s slender form was crumpled into the floor at the base of the toilet. His arms grasping the bowl like his life depended on it. 

He looked up at me, his glassy eyes framed with dark circles, his face covered in a sheen of sweat, and his complexion ghostly pale. 

“Leave me alone,” he choked out, his voice raspy and weak. I just shook my head before moving closer to him. I flushed the toilet for him, causing him to flinch at the noise. 

“Not a chance.” I laughed lightly, trying to lighten the mood a little. Seeing him stare aimlessly into the intricate pattern of the bathroom tile made me think about what state he was in. Withdrawals were hard and seemed to be hitting him like a ton of bricks. I moved behind him wrapping my arms around his torso. I could feel the amount of body heat that he was emitting, evident from the way that his shirt was stuck to his back with sweat. 

 “It hurts so much Y/N. All of it” The pain in his voice made my heartbreak for him. 

I placed a short kiss into the back of his neck, then resting my head on his shoulder. “I know baby, we’re gonna get you better though” 

The Last Time 

I walked out the back doors of the country club to be met with the humid breeze of the afternoon. I scanned the horizon of the ocean, only to be met with Rafe’s figure standing on the back walk to the club. He was standing by his bike with his back turned to me, I assumed checking his phone. “Rafe!” I called out, but to no avail as he didn’t turn to me. I started to jog over toward him, stopping when I saw him lean down. I saw him make the all too familiar motion, sweeping his head across the back of his bike, standing us wiping his nose and shaking his head. I felt the world around me come to a pause, the breath was sucked straight from my lungs. A mere few feet from me, Rafe just did another line of coke. After days of withdrawal, after countless sleepless nights trying to keep him sober, after all the promises, it all was shattered in the scene in front of me. 

Rafe wiped on the residue from his seat, looking side to side to see if there was anyone around. He turned his head, catching a glimpse of me in the corner of his eye. He looked at me, guilt evident in his eyes, as he watched the look of disgust once again cover my face. He took a few steps forward, watching carefully as I backed away from him. I put my hands up in front of me signaling for him to stop. His face dropped. I felt the tears start to form in my eyes, threatening to spill at any moment. 

“Look Y/N, I can explain!” He pleaded with me. I just shook my head, trying to look anywhere but his eyes. “It was just that-”

“Just what Rafe?” I asked, angry evident behind my voice. “That all that time I-” I pause briefly shaking my head. “All that time that we spent, getting you sober, getting you through withdrawals was worth nothing to you. Do you really want to go through that pain again?” I asked. I took a short deep breath, as I blinked my eyes the tears began to fall, leaving in streams down my face. “Or do you just plan to never stop?” I cried to him. Every bone in my body was shaking, everything in me was hurt. 

“I want to stop, it's just today was a bad day!” He pleaded with me again. His voice grew angrier with every word. 

“That’s why you call me, or Top, or Kelce, or literally anyone Rafe! How many more ‘bad days’ are you gonna have that you need to do drugs.” I was yelling at this point, nothing holding me back. “You promised me Rafe.” I said, my voice becoming scarily flat in the sentence. 

“I know, I’ll do better. I can do better!” He bargained. He pleaded, his voice breaking in the middle of his sentence. He took a few steps towards me. 

“You keep saying that, but you don’t Rafe. If you think this is getting better you’re kidding yourself.” I shook my head at him again, not knowing what else to say to him. I willed myself to stop crying, to take a breath, but my body betrayed me. 

“Baby look. I’ll change.” He said grabbing onto my wrist. I tried to pull it away, only for him to grasp it tighter. 

“Rafe let go of me,” I said, pulling on my arm. 

“No! Listen to me! I’m telling you it’s gonna be okay!” He raised his voice coming face to face with me. 

“Rafe you’re scaring me!” I said, pushing him hard on his chest away from me. He stumbled back, looking over at me with disbelief in his eyes. His jaw was clenched and his stare was cold. 

“I told you that you were gonna lose me if you didn’t stop Rafe. You’ve gone too far. I don’t even recognize you anymore.” I said shakily. I looked directly at him. 

“What are you saying?” He questioned, his tone cold and flat. 

I swallowed the lump in my throat before speaking. “I’m saying we’re done Rafe. I won’t do it anymore.” I turned away from him, walking back to the country club, wiping the tears off my face with the back of my hand, leaving Rafe standing behind me. 

Masterlist! 

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[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 019

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: Hey everyone!! I know it's been quieter around here, but enjoy the chapter I hope! Sort of sweet filler. Billy nurses a hungover Evie back to life as they reach a common ground with their relationship. Evie returns to school as the new Keg King. Chp title is after that Depeche Mode song. TW: Light light mention of a past r*pe/abuse & Pica. Smut!!

***My tag list is wide open, just shoot me a msg to join it! Chat with me about the chapter if you have the time! Enjoy! xoxo

Chapter 19: One Caress

   Death. Hot, swampy death. Somehow mixed with frigid chills. 

   Evie cracked her eyes to light and moaned. Loud enough to wake the body spread on his back next to her. Billy spied her. Curls spiraling endless directions. Knotted all over. 

   Face pressed into the pillows, Evie held her thudding brain. Figured it might be unspooling around a cracked skull. There was movement as Billy reached over her to pull the curtains further closed and block the early morning sun. 

   “You seriously woke up at seven with that bad a hangover. Figured you’d sleep in longer. Must be a pride thing.” Billy hummed and draped his arm over her. Casual as can be to tuck back in. He made this rumbling sound into her shoulder blade and sighed out.

   Evie realized finally she wasn’t alone and scrambled up, almost tumbling over the bottom edge of the bed if Billy hadn't snatched her wrist.

   “Easy!” Came the sharp hiss. “Take a moment to remember last night if you can.” Brown eyes squinted to blink at him. Blurring the gold honey of him together. Billy made a face. “Jesus, you’re looking at me like I’m taking a dump here, Evangeline.”

   “Oh, jeez,” Evie fisted her curls so he let go. Her eyes began to dart, finding the events and piecing them. Little by little. “Jesus Dolly Parton Christ.”

   “That’s some poetry I like.” Billy reclined, covered in a loose sheet looking his insufferable cupid self. One hand behind his head while he tapped a rhythm into his abs. Evie moaned again, curling up toward the curtains.

   “I did a keg stand…”

   “Oh, yeah, you did.” Blue eyes rolled. “Your highness.”

   “Did I puke on anyone?”

   “Just some sorry ass purple primroses.” He’d snarked with some amusement. “You almost got me, but I aimed you just fine.”

   “Shit. I’m-”

   “You’re gonna piss me off if you apologize again. That’s a stupid girl habit you need to shake.”

   “Stupid girl habit, pfffs. I’m Billy Hargrove. I'm perfect and glowy with the face of a damn cherub. Know-it-all.” Evie huffed and mumbled to mock him but Billy continued.

   “You just did to me what I did to Harrington. Figure I had it coming. I’m still Billy-The Shit-Hargrove. Smoke and mirrors as you think.” His chest rose and air blew out his mouth. “We didn’t do anything, I just helped you home as you poured your tasty heart out.”

   “Yeah, uh… It’s all coming back. Argh...” Evie rubbed her face and aimlessly waved for him to stop talking. She noticed Billy still had his jeans on, no shirt. Then, spied her own outfit under the robe. “The hell are we wearing?”

   “You were keen to flash me those Fenny wiles so I tied you into the drunk girl straitjacket. Took some wrangling, but I think I earned the gold,” he blinked, “and I didn’t wear anything under the denim. I figured jeans were better than you waking to my huge, raw morning wood...unless you’re into that.”

   He winked which earned him that scrunchy scowl he loved to see on her face.

   Evie collapsed back on her front. Cursing daylight. Lingering black makeup still smeared around her eyes.

   “Okay, well, I can die now. Officially. Thank you, Billy, for bearing witness.”

   “No, no, I’m nursing you back to health today. We both smell like party. Get up. Water. Pills. Shower. Gonna shower at my place and then I’m coming back for breakfast. I’ll make your birthday up to you if you’ll let me. Hope you let me, cause I’ll bug you another two months until you don’t.” Fingers tugged for messy curls until she grumbled.

   Evie poked those bright eyes up. 

   “There was talk of a couch day. I remember.”

   “You remember everything?” Thick lashes batted the vulnerability away. She softened.

   “Everything. Feel like death,” she said, “but waking up in your arms wasn’t so bad.” Billy brightened, liking that. Maybe too much because he looked smug. “So, the couch. You and me. Us. Can you manage that? Relaxing with casual stimulation.”

   “Oh, say stimulation again. Slower,” Billy uttered and Evie rolled her eyes. “Gonna let me come back over?”

   “Maybe.” She hitched and whined, ruffling her curls. “Knowing my mom, she’s gonna stay until closing. Around six or seven tonight, she might go party straight from the shop. She's made that a habit on weekends. I don’t know, as this year is going she’s just home less. City friends. Dating. And I feel bad cause it’s almost easier.”

   Billy didn’t comment.

   “My throat still hurts from last night and we do smell pretty ripe...gonna shower. Clean these sheets too.” 

   “We haven’t even made a proper mess of them.” Billy came up on his elbows with a suggestive look. They shared another beat before his tone changed. “I should have stayed.”

   “I wish you did. But, I also wish I didn’t run into Fredrick’s arms after that dance. It was stupid. We can both make idiot decisions. Still young, I guess.” Evie turned her eyes. “But, you’re here now and we’re not yelling at each other.”

   “It’s a whole new world. Keg King.”

   “I need to forget that.”

   “School won’t. None of the schools there will forget it. Betcha even Tannen knows.” Billy pushed up and Evie followed, stretching until something cracked delightfully. “Heard from him?”

   “Something with a DUI or two… I don’t know. He made his threats already.” She stopped to pet Blue, shifting the kitten off Billy’s coat while he snagged his shirt. “Tell Max I said hi if she’s around.”

   “Give me thirty.” Billy took his coat, gave her ass a pat, and waltzed out. Unworried. Evie dragged into the shower. Stood there under the warm spray with her head pressed against the cool tiles. Swallowed some aspirin down and slid her eyes to the container of cherry red pins.

   There wasn’t a melancholy welling inside her empty gut, but she found it odd. This craving to indulge. To swallow sharp objects and let them click around musically inside her. Make them part of her routine. Eat artificial things until she was made from them. A doll on the top shelf threatening to take a tumble.

   Wet curls hung over her shoulders and breasts. Evie closed the mirror and looked at her body there. Head tilting. Towels fell around her feet. She opened her palms, arms slighting lifting in a submissive motion. Evie thought to cover herself but didn’t. Imagined a shell opening so the world could look at her. Admire her. Pluck her free and decorate her with tiny diamonds and opals. Maybe seaweed and shells like a pretty siren.

   The mirror lights washed her flesh out as they would an old starlet. Flash. Romancing Evie as she blew kisses to an empty lens, hoping to be loved beyond it. She might die if they don't all love her. Want to screw her. Want to open her up and peek inside. Flash. Keep her at arm's reach if they don't like what they see. Flash. It doesn't matter because she's still a wondrous thing to covet.

   She imagined several hands piecing her parts together. Painting them with deft brushes. Evie could sit on a shelf still. She could also let them loop red strings around her broken limbs. Contorting fingers walking her upon a empty stage with the same washed-out lights. Evie would be anything for them. Give anything for eyes and lights and brushes that caress her.

   Hands pushed her curls back over her shoulders. Evie really looked at her body. No shame. No sex. No fear. No disgust. Just flesh and blood and muscle wrapped around bones with marrow made of that electric stardust. Flesh that offended the world, they had to fetishize her to stand her. Nothing really mattered if the lights washed her away though. The lights would tell them to love her regardless because she was the next great thing.

   Flash.

   Lips pushed into the mirror's reflection, breath ghosting to leave an imprint that faded as she leaned back. Her neon demon flitting out to curl and poison the world so she wouldn't have to choke it down alone.

   “I don’t want to be them,” Evie sneered there, “they’ll want to be me.”

   They’ll claw. And scrape. And scream. And die. Just to be a second rate version of Evangeline. Steam rose around her, placed adoring kisses upon her skin.

   A kiss and a promise wrapped in that vengeful neon demon she fed and hid from the world that had ruined her. Broke her parts to pick and choose the best. A demon she still kissed and tried to preen with kindness because Evangeline tried. She tried.

   Evie hadn’t been cruel. She told lies. She made messes. But, she tried and she had always hoped that would count for something. It didn’t with her father. Or Mona. Not even Fredrick, he liked her mutilated. But, Evie tried to hold onto that kind girl with fire and hopes to create music that rained to make flowers grow even bolder. She deserves something. Anything.

   She was already carved out by this life. Felt like she might hit bone if she dug any further. Piles and piles of ash spilling out longing veins. Organs delectable enough to feed on from souls that sapped her vitality away. What else was there to do but scream until someone heard her? Scream for the girl she lost. The people who would never care to understand that. Scream until they were forced to scream over her. Until they were all roses falling at her feet.

   As she looked at herself here, Evie wondered if that girl was even alive anymore. And if she’d already let her down. If she could be forgiven. If she could forget a specific howl of thunder that came after crackling lightning. Lips near her ear to preen so sweet.

   "My little mouse-"

   Flash.

   Hands shaking, she thrust the mirror open and pricked her finger on a cherry pin. Blood beading before she settled it upon her tongue to devour it. 

   It didn’t make sense. She was happier. Today, she was better. She was in control. But, this... It was built into her. Settling comfortable with everything else. A need. A hope. A cycle. An addiction. Girlhood was a horror story written by a true romantic. This, she knew well.

   Just once, Evie figured. She could wean off it. She could gather her parts and sew them back together without help. Carve the person she lost to the world in something stronger.

   It’s fine. This is fine.

   Flash.

   Unable to see whoever was in the mirror now, Evie shut the lights out and hurried away. She pulled a long sleeve tee on with a faded floral design. Decided leggings were a god-like invention and was stuffing socks on when Billy let himself back in.

   At the sound, she clenched her stomach as if he’d walk in and see the artificial fragments that made her up now. A softer breath puffed. Everything was neatly hidden inside. Soon to be a part of her shelf collection. Footsteps came to her while she bent over to toss her wet towels in the hamper.

   “Can’t knock-?” Evie was spun around into an oncoming hard kiss. Lips colliding before Billy hitched and pulled out. Fireworks burst.

   “Hey, I waited for that.” He winked and went into the kitchen. Owned the space. “You look like hell still, Evie. Couch. I’ll make you something greasy to eat.” 

   “Ugh, I won’t even fight you on this...and you’re well aware of that.” Evie fell onto the sofa. Sagged. Heard Billy clicking around. “You’re not gonna make a mess, are you?”

   “Quit worrying, let the master work.” He peered at the kitten eagerly eating from her dish.

   Evie heard something sizzle and flipped TV channels. Turned the brightness and volume a little lower while she draped over the sofa's arm. Tried to distract herself as the meds kicked in. Melting around her pricking pin. Billy padded back in with a paper plate. Something stacked high on it.

   “What did you…?” Evie blinked and sat up to make room for him so he put the plate down. Still warm and steamy, gooey cheese oozed from fresh bread. “Grilled cheese. Oh hell, that actually looks really good.”

   “I made a bunch. Stuff that hangover.” He spied her and stole the remote. Evie was too busy leaning over to pull a cheesy sandwich apart to fight him. Readily, leaning into Billy’s shoulder, Evie got comfortable there as they shared a silence. A hot, greasy meal that was perfection. Even a few laughs over the TV. 

   She forgot about pretty made up dolls. About that girl she lost. About whatever was trying to take its place. About screaming and thunder.

   “I think we should set some ground rules for this thing since we’re obviously avoiding labels,” Evie said during a commercial, wiping her fingers on a napkin before she pushed up. “Water?”

   “With ice if you really wanna impress me.” Billy kicked back and heard her scoff. “What do you mean, rules?”

   “I mean,” the sink started running from the kitchen, “just...you wanna be with me and I wanna be with you and we’re not gonna bring a third party into that. Basic ‘don’t screw this up’ rules.”

   “Unless you’re into it.” Billy cracked his cheekiest smile as she returned. Ice clicked in two glasses. Billy put one arm up on the couch to gesture so she tucked in there. Cups clicked and they hydrated as if a mission was afoot. 

   “Ah, use the coaster.” She leaned forward so they could set the drinks down. Billy rolled his eyes and sat back, legs spreading.

   “You worry too much, I know how to tell people I’m seeing a girl.”

   “How public can we be? If I try to kiss you or, god forbid, hold your hand at school...will you be weird about it now?”

   “No, and just give me a slap if I get weird on you again.” He shrugged. “If I wanna slip you my tongue or smack your ass, are you gonna get all squirrely on me?” Billy tipped his head back when he felt her chuckle.

   “Depends on who you do it in front of. I figure you’ll use your brains for that judgment. I hope.” Came the softer reply. Evie curled into the warmth of him. Stared at his neck and watched the muscles and veins shift under tanned skin. Wondered about sinking her teeth there. “You can get handsy within reason. Do that thing where one person slips their hand into the other’s pocket as they walk.”

   “I’ll give you the John Hughes fantasy if you throw me a little pornstar now and then.”

   “Bet you think every nasty thing you say makes me blush.” 

   Evie wiggled down and settled her head in his lap. Eyes snapped down to see her face crinkle with a brighter smile, still only somewhat fatigued from the night before. Curl spiraling long over her shoulders and his thighs. He caught one around his finger. Twirled it with a thoughtful expression before he looked at her eyes.

   “You are beautiful, Evangeline Fenny.” Billy had to sigh it. A fierce and tender proclamation. A stunning spell cast over her like a thin veil. Twinkling jewels. Flash photography.

   It became clear that they held power over each other and that this was the closest she’d ever gotten to her name in lights.

   And Evie did blush. She didn’t look away from his eyes. For once. Not when they flickered to catch her gaze. Lost in Billy, she rose and turned over on her hands and knees. Leaned toward him carefully. Billy inhaled her perfume, got this fluttered look as she took his chin and tipped it to place a delicate kiss upon his throat. Another touched the line of his jaw.

   One muffled sound fused them together. Evie’s back hit the couch. The remote fell with a clatter. Fingers laced, Billy shifted her hand next to her head. Saw her pause to kiss his knuckles. Tough with scars from too many fights that burst them open. 

   Fingertips gave this gentle caress of Evie’s hairline with his free hand. Careful as if something here could shatter. Thick lashes fluttered so she turned to look up at him there. Words crushed in her throat. Almost pleasurably.

   “Open your mouth.” Billy longed to taste the fragmented syllables. Lips parted. A finger swept the kiss-puffed swell of them. “Little wider.” His own mouth curled. Thumb rubbing a circle into her chin before he came down. A vaguely sweet-salty kiss. Tangy, almost reminding him of that balmy California air.

   Evie matched him. Pushed back. Cupped his face. Made a heavenly sound that vibrated into him.

   And she leaned out as if struck by lightning.

   “What’s your middle name?”

   “What?” He laughed, watching her lashes flutter. Hand midway to touch her breast.

   “Your middle name.” Evie fingered the metal pendant when it hung down from his neck. Traced a line across his collar before tucking spun gold behind his ear. 

   “Why?”

   “So suspicious.” She tugged his tee so he’d kiss her again. Slower this time. “This, Billy, is totally a date. So, I’m asking about you about you.” Frankly, Evie wanted to know every little, silly thing there was to him.

   “Feels like that perfect, lengthy ending of a date to me.” The snark had Evie pouting. Stopping anymore kisses he dared to plant. Billy gave pause. “It’s stupid. My middle name.”

   “Well, now you have to tell me.” She shifted so he could drape his weight across her, one elbow planted near her head. Billy rolled his eyes. Cringed.

   “Seamus.” He mumbled, sparking. “Don’t laugh. Mom chose it after an ancestor on her side.”

   “Just smiling cause you told me. That’s not bad!” Evie pressed her lips when they trembled. “William Seamus Hargrove.”

   “Yeah, I sound like a creepy lighthouse keeper who's really into masturbating.”

   “One out of two.” Evie squealed as he pinched her side for that. “Marie!”

   “Huh?”

   “My middle name. Marie.” Arms looped loosely around Billy's shoulders. They wrapped each other up, spoke intimately of casual subjects. All too easily. 

   “Evangeline Marie Fenny.” He gave it a taste. Liked it.

   “Uh-huh.” Evie’s fingers twirled idle into Billy's curls, massaging circles into the back of his warm neck. “My mom got the middle name from this famous Voodoo Queen in New Orleans. She thought to name me Christine, Wendy, or Beatrice but when I was born, she changed her mind at the last minute because she saw me and said the name just came to her from this epic poem. Said it was star-worthy so she plucked it down from the night sky and kept it as her own.”

   "A star?" He panned to focus on her expression relaxing.

   "It's a lot to live up to." Something to grieve deeply in that.

   “Hm. Voodoo Queen. So, do you like to turn boys into creatures when they cross you? Frogs, goats, and bats maybe? For sacrifice?”

   “I mean, that’s the first thing they teach us, obviously. Voodoo is actually peaceful and balanced, it just has a violent misconception because of racism. It’s an even exchange of life and energy. A relationship you build with actual effort. Signature.”

   “My mom might have liked it, she was spiritual-like.”

   “My aunts know more. They were pretty worked up when my mom branched out. I like to think she balances a couple religions to get by. She does the same thing with hair styling…and boyfriends.” Evie puffed, eyes elsewhere. “Just a jukebox, she changes the song by whatever is gonna comfort her most that week. I just tell people she’s open-minded and she is.”

   “My dad hates your mom more than he’s hated any neighbor we’ve ever had. And we used to live across from these guys he didn’t like me talking to. Said they were living in sin. Well...he used worse words.” Billy admitted, vaguely entertained because Neil loved to spit words only when backs were turned. He was a coward. “They were always nice to me. Owned this fancy cake shop so they sometimes gave me a truffle if I was playing on the apartment steps.”

   “I can picture you small. Face all messy with chocolate.” Evie gushed there. “Probably the cutest thing. Bet Neil hated them more for being sweet.”

   “The one and only time he spat the word out in the open, one of those guys broke his nose. I got the brunt of that anger later, but it was worth it. Just makes me like Mona more.”

   “I’m sure.” Evie blinked, sighing elsewhere under Billy’s gaze. “My mom and I have a disconnect, but I am proud of her. She’s so educated despite having me young even if people don’t know it. She’s marched for human rights and she’s braver than she knows. She always stands for something and I hope I can one day too. Even if her big, noble causes distract from her home life.”

   Evie paused with this searching look. Unsure if she should indulge the thought that swept her eyes. Gently, she continued.

   “I don’t think her mom ever loved her. Nana was always so cold to her, not like with the older sisters. I noticed that young. She might have liked me only cause I was her one and only grand-baby.”

   “Why’s that?”

   Evie flickered her brown eyes again, frowning.

   “You can’t repeat this, not even to me.” A sigh followed when Billy nodded. “When my mom and dad got divorced...that Christmas break she took me back to N’awlins. They live in this big place, I used to think it was a castle. Her three older sisters, growing old together. Nana was with them until she passed away. I used to hang out in the attic when I wasn’t at their store. Going through boxes of memories.”

   “Yeah.” Billy nodded for her to go on.

   “My mom wasn’t supposed to be born. Nana had her sisters. She had this husband. Perfect life. A shop to pass down. One night, she was closing and a man attacked her. Held her down and…” Evie swallowed. 

   “Oh…”

   “He hurt my Nana bad. I don’t think she was ever the same, how can you be? But, she got pregnant with his baby. Kept it and that was my mom. I think my mom spent her whole life trying to make up for it. I’m sure she knew.”

   “How so?”

   “My grandfather left not long after she was born and..my Nana wrote him this letter I don’t think she ever sent. It was begging him to just take Mona and love her right. It was full of apologies and, I think she was gonna kill herself. I don’t know what changed her mind. But, I found that letter and read it. It was in my mom’s things. Under the floorboards of the first dollhouse she ever made herself. She must have found it all the same. Maybe when she was my age.”

   “Probably wasn’t an easy thing to find for her.”

   “Right. Might explain why mom can only handle the dainty things in life. She just wanted to be loved. So, I think after that...I tried even harder to be perfect for her. I know she loves me and her mother never loved or wanted her. She tried so hard for everyone even if she’s bad with the negative. We’re friends. She always tells me I saved her life so I’m scared of letting her down. What if I can’t save her one day?” Her voice cracked so Evie swallowed a lump down to level herself. 

   Billy felt that prick his heart. Deeper than he liked. But, the advice still came out clear.

   “That’s not your job, Evie, you need a mother. You have plenty of best friends.”

   “I thought she married my dad cause she loved him, but really I think she married the first person who promised to care for her. Who whisked her away from her mother’s cold house. It worked out that he was always traveling for work. It feels like everything I thought I knew about my life wasn’t real.” Evie caught herself, eyes on Billy’s pendant. She hoped it protected him. Well enough. “But, my dad. I bet he thinks about me every day. I know it.”

   It was always striking and peculiar how Evangeline spoke of her father. Billy pictured a string being pulled from her back to rattle the same peppy sayings. Over and over again until perhaps she believed it too.

   Evie paused to stare at Billy thoughtfully. With the pull of her string, she switched modes to become something else. 

   “What kinds of things to do you like to write about?” She asked with this dreamy sort of expression crossing as if the words before were all imaginary. She was fine. Her mother was fine. Her father, he…

   It was all fine. Picture perfect. Paparazzi flashing to send her into a sea of spots. Memories wiping.

   “I don’t know, anything to not be here.” Billy caught himself, both of them still wrapped around each other. “Not here, I mean. I’m here.” 

   Billy seemed to realize how present he was and shifted off her.

   “The words almost don’t sound real.” Repetition. A mild chuckle. “I’m here.” He sounded them out carefully. Evie pulled up. Stared at Billy sitting on his knees between her legs.

   “That’s it.” She said. “Labels and rules aside. As long as we’re just here, I think we have a handle on this. I can manage that, can you?”

   I’m here, Billy gave this closer look and nodded. Earring dangling. Fingers twisted his ring around.

   “Are you going to tell Neil or Susan about this?” Evie’s question made him pale noticeably.

   “Hell, no. It’s better if my dad doesn’t figure it out. Don’t like him talking to you.”

   Evie didn’t argue with that.

   “I don’t think I want to tell my mom, she’s just a lot when I’m seeing someone or liking anyone point-blank.” Evie winced.

   “Don’t freak on me if I pull from you around my dad. I don’t trust him near you. He’ll say shit and you don’t need that.” Billy peered aside until Evie took his hand, shaking it almost officially.

   “Deal. Screw Neil.”

   “Oh,” Billy laughed, “you're still a funny girl, Evie.” Eager as can be, he cupped the back of her head. Kissed her into the couch. They forgot the dull aches that kept them so grounded. All giggles, she squirmed out to escape him. Left Billy breathless and tugged as she got up. “Wait, where ya going?”

   “Um. My room. Duh.”

   He lit up and tried to play cool which melted the second he scrambled to scoop her from the floor.

   “Ah!” Evie wiggled and clung to him. Feeling his muscles bulge and strain as they always did. Made her heart sing. “We didn’t discuss this!”

   “If I can lift it, it’s mine. You spent all last night challenging me, what do you expect?” Billy jostled her which had Evie wrapping her arms tighter around his shoulders. Barely squealing.

   “Okay! Don’t drop me!” She squeezed into his arms and balled up. Billy laughed all the way to the bedroom. “I didn’t wash the sheets yet.”

   “Even better, let’s make a bigger mess of them.” Billy dropped her playfully into the covers. Pulled his shirt off as Evie sat up. Eyes falling to the hard contours. He relished that she liked to look at him. Fingers wrapped around her wrist, encouraging the cool palm into his skin. Up the deft lines in his stomach. “You can touch, I won’t charge you for it.”

   She dropped the awe and pushed from him. Laughing back into the pillows.

   “You’re such a pain.” Evie stiffened because Billy dropped down to crawl up her body. Pretense gone. One hand cupped her jaw. Urged it open as fingers stroked the silky cheek. Thumb curving the swell of her parting mouth. Evie kissed the pad and let the digit slip along her tongue. 

   “You’re so good.” Billy shuddered when he felt her tongue whirl obediently around his thumb. Breathless. Evie reached down to undo his belt. Sly as can be. 

   “You’re eager.” She whispered coolly against the wet thumb tracing a line down her chin.

   “I haven’t been laid much the past few months, I’m collecting. Times I tried didn’t work. Sue me.”

   “Poor thing.” She cooed, working his zipper down until Billy bit his lip. Hips shimmied between her spread legs. He jerked her hips up to get the underwear and leggings off in one expert pull. “Did you think about me when you tried?”

   Billy narrowed on her. Sighed as a hand slipped into his jeans. Moaned.

   “Yes.” He stole himself a kiss. “Couldn’t even measure up to that kiss in the street.”

   “Remind me how that went.” Evie hitched a laugh and he smothered her down. Scared the syllables with his tongue.

   Billy pulled her hair for good measure, pushed his open fly into her bare skin. He didn’t waste time this hour as she moaned and pulled for him. Adjusted to find her core. Hips snapped together, both of them mostly clothed in disarray. A good ache built as he moved. Hard and intent like he was making an impression into her flesh. Into her marrow. 

   Evie would remember him and this time and how he played her. Totally. Neither of them would be running. This moment was about the long haul together. They kept slowing to just look and breathe. Noses nuzzling. Soft exhales in turn. Billy broke kisses to push his face up against her hair and jawline, arms sliding underneath her to cling. He let Evie whisper sweet things into his flesh. Let her hold him just as close.

   At the sweetness of her coaxing, he spilled inside her. Earlier then he meant.

   “Shit.” Billy started to push up when Evie’s legs caught his hips.

   “Stay,” she puffed, “stay like this for a bit.” She prodded and pawed, openly needing him. So very bad.

   “I’m crushing you.” He mumbled into her cheek. Trapped in heat.

   “I like it.” Evie’s arms looped his shoulders. Both of them got the shakes. “I like how you feel right here.”

   “You didn’t come yet.” Hot breath ghosted her neck.

   “It’s okay.”

   Billy blew air into her jaw. Kissed the line of it before he reached down to finish her.

   “Yeah?”

   “Ngh, yes.” She mewled out silently. "Oh, Billy." That was his favorite song in truth.

   “Atta girl.” Billy kept planting kisses. Evie twisted with nowhere to go. Whimpered until she was locking under him. Mouth back open for his slow tongue. She reached a peak and let him slowly bring her back down.

   Lips muffled into her collar. He stayed there inside her. Took every piece of comfort she offered. One hand reeled up to pet her curls. Arms kept him firm against her so he could listen to her twittering heart slow and lull. Fingers danced too delicate across flesh.

   Evie whined as he pulled out. Felt the absence burn hot. 

   They messed the sheets. She was still pulling for him until he pushed her over. Wrapped himself around her after fixing his jeans back up. Leaving them open. Evie shifted, restless until Billy kissed behind her ear.

   “Just sleep. Not going anywhere.” Billy’s words lulled her back to relax. “Quit squirming about it.”

   She stilled, fingers trailing up the hair on his arm before she dropped her head to the offered bicep. Evie tilted Billy’s wrist to see the watch, groaning.

   “It’s not even noon.”

   “Maybe you’ll think next time before you get up hungover on a weekday before eight,” Billy mumbled into the curls. 

   “Only did it for the Hargrove grilled cheese.” Evie closed her eyes to sigh. "You fell for it."

   “Guess we’re both screwed.”

   “Mm-hm.” She let her mind flutter. Felt Billy’s hand stroking her bare thigh. 

   Fingers moved up her hip. Kneading the flesh. His palm trailed over her tummy and she didn’t stop him. Didn’t clam up at a boy touching her fuller areas. Billy worshiped her skin. Breath hot into dark curls. She almost wondered if he was trying for another round massaging her hip like that with dancing fingertips. 

   “Hard to nap when you...when you touch me.” She sounded breathless.

   “Like touching you,” Billy mumbled. “Gonna figure out a way to prove it to you without the label. This thing.”

   “For a boy who likes to talk, I notice certain words are hard for you.” She felt the arm under her wrapping tighter, pulling her further into his fire. “Not judging. I have problems words too.”

   “Still good with my mouth.” Billy shifted hair from Evie’s neck and jaw. Settling his lips there, lazy as can be. “And my hands. But, you still have something nagging you tell you I’m not being truthful about the exclusive thing. Gonna figure out how I can make that up to you.”

   “If I really didn’t trust you, Billy, I wouldn’t have let you stay here.” Evie shifted around to face him, still laying on his bicep. There was plenty of fear. Fear of exposing her heart and vessels and nerves to be plucked. Fear she'd like him more than he liked her. Fear this relationship would be such an easy thing to fall into.

   "That's honest." He decided, lashes batting. Evie reached up and traced this curving line near his mouth.

   “Just be with me cause you want to be and try not to raise your voice if you’re upset." She dropped her hand. "It’s okay if you’re upset, you can tell me. It just freaks out when men raise their voices. It’s like thunder and I...I’m scared of thunder.” 

   Evie recalled the passive-aggressive way Fredrick would slam things when he was upset with her instead of outright telling her. How he’d wait until she was near tears and begging his forgiveness. Billy studied her eyes. Saw lightning flash within them. Knuckles came to her cheek. Gave an idle caress. His soft lips found her brow and lulled her heavy eyes until they began to flutter. Billy laid there and watched Evie fade, let her sleepy frame tuck into him. Under his chin. She found solace. 

   He thought of the men in her life and his life who raised their voices. Who hit. Who broke them down to a series of parts they can pick and choose from to make a doll that suited them best. This image they placed up carefully for protection, it may have shattered them both distantly. Billy didn’t want to be a piece of thunder in Evie’s life. Striking to make his points so she wouldn’t forget them. 

   But, Evie slept so soundly in his arms. Barely twitching while his hands roamed her body. Under the shirt down her bare back. Threading into fluffy locks of thick hair. These little caresses that were her lullaby. It made Billy believe with all his soul that he’d never be like them.

   And it made it so easy for him to follow her in darkness.

** ** ** 

   “You’re awfully quiet, Max.” Evie turned her head in the seat. Trees whizzed by illuminated with little flits of the morning sun. 

   “Just a test today, I guess.” Max had her backpack clutched close in her lap. Almost hiding behind it. She hinted a smile. “I gave Billy shit this morning.” Billy snorted in the driver’s seat, nodding. One hand idle on Evie’s knee. Hot through the denim.

   “She did. Neil wasn’t around.” 

   “Hey...I told Will and them I’d go to the arcade. Just to hang out after school. I’ll be home before dinner.”

   “Does Neil know?” Was all Billy asked.

   “Yes, he thinks I’m just going to see El. Stays quieter if I’m seeing the Police Chief.” Max plucked up her skateboard. “I won’t need a ride so you guys can make-out.” She snickered while Billy swerved to park at school.

   “Yeah? Beat it.” He shifted his seat, patting Evie’s knee to make her wait there. Max jumped out and hopped on her board.

   “She does seem off,” Evie remarked more so to herself.

   “Things at home are off, it’s making it weird for her and her friends.” Billy shut the door with a hard look. Exhaling out his nose. “It was bound to.” Evie watched Max skate down the hill around other students. Seemingly isolated. She didn’t push the subject and wiped the frown aside. Mauve lips upturned when she peered to see Billy staring at her face. Not reaching for a smoke yet.

   “Got something for you.” He said instead, fishing into the front pocket of his denim jacket. “Tried to figure out how to make this official for you. Here.” 

   Billy dropped a silver chain in her hand without ceremony. The silver ring he wore on his middle finger hung from it. Evie wondered what he’d fidget around with now when he was deep in thought.

   “I don’t have a class ring or Letterman jacket for you because I’m not a douche. But, guys do this. Don’t they?” Billy peered at Evie eyeing the ring before she met his gaze. 

   “It’s perfect.” She turned, gesturing so he could help her put it on. It sat lower than the little music note she usually wore. Evie debated it and pulled her dad’s necklace off, looping it around her wrist as a bracelet because she wasn’t ready to part with it just yet. Maybe it not being in plain sight would make her easier to look at for Mona. “Thank you.”

   “My mom got it for me. She had it in the family and said it would fit me one day. That and this chain.” He fingered the saint pendant. 

   “I’ll be careful with it,” Evie promised him. 

   “It sits exactly where I wanted it to.” Billy flashed some pride.

   “Over my heart?” Her eyes glimmered.

   “Over your tits.” He laughed when she shoved at him, tugging his collar in for a kiss. 

   “You’re gross,” Evie mumbled, pecking him once more. She fingered the ring and beamed. 

   “You’re into it.” Billy turned her chin for just one more. She could live in this. 

   Just one more kiss.

   Deciding to join the rest of the student body, they got out. Evie slung her strap over one shoulder while Billy held his bag in a wad at his side. They met each other around the car before Billy slipped his arm around her waist, bringing Evie into him. Fingers delved into her back pocket.

   Every teen around them took note. It was official. Comments piled in as they passed into school.

   “Great party, Evie.”

   “Looking good, you two!”

   “Love your outfit, Fenny.”

   Whistles cast and overlapped suggestively. 

   “This is weird.” Evie leaned into Billy as they got to her locker. Students looked at them together. Offered winks or smiles. Students who never addressed her much before.

   “You’re the keg king. What’s that saying?” Billy had shrugged. “Heavy is the head… Fine is the ass.”

   “I regret you already.” Evie broke to laugh at him. “Pure poetry, Billy.” She shut her locker, paused to see Heather headed her way looking apprehensive. Another smile crossed, even fuller than the last. Heather seemed to respond and follow it.

   “So, I heard I missed a piece of history.”

   “Hardly, I puked everywhere.” Evie swept curls behind her shoulder. “Billy, can Heather and I have a sec?”

   “Depends, am I still an asshole prick?” He leered over Evie’s shoulder.

   “You’re back down to normal prick status.” Heather beamed even sweeter while Billy caught his tongue between his teeth, seeming to like that. 

   “I can work with that, princess.” He tugged Evie’s curls and went around them to head to his locker before the first period. Evie shifted on her feet so they walked along together.

   “I know...things have still been kinda weird.”

   “I just figured I’d let you and Carol work through your stuff, you know?” Heather looped her arm into Evie’s.

   “Can’t without my best friend there. Sure, Carol and I are bonding, but that doesn’t… You and I went to dances together, Heather, we stayed up eating junk food and watching terrible movies. We bought our first bras together.”

   “Our mothers made that day so mortifying, I think I’m still messed up from it.” Heather giggled with Evie snorting next to her. “And you got a real B bra while I basically bought a damn bandage.”

   “We’re repressing the memory together.” Evie tugged her down the next hallway where Steve scrambled to snatch her into an unexpected bear hug.

   “Tell me it’s true, oh my god, Evie.” He was near howling with laughter. Evie, shocked that Steve lifted her feet from the floor, stammered through the broken train of thought.

   “What?” She got spun around with a cry as Heather cackled. Students hurried around them. Steve wasn't strong like Billy, but credit was due.

   “You’re the keg king?” He shook her by the shoulders. “You smashed Billy’s record in front of him. In front of everyone?”

   “I’m never drinking again.” Evie dropped her head to his chest, hands covering her face.

   "You're my absolute hero, Eves, I hope you know that." Steve gripped Evie tighter, got close like he thought to kiss her but resisted.

   “Yeah, you’re going to have to fill us in on everything at lunch.” Heather decided, grasping Evie’s hand. “Jesus, Steve, get it together.”

   “Let me have this, Holloway. She's mine.” He squeezed Evie’s amused frame back into him. “He made my life hellish.”

   “I’ll dedicate the win to you. How’s that?” Evie slipped from Steve, laughing now. “Lunch. We’ll give Billy shit about it together.” A wink that Steve matched, thoroughly enjoying this momentous day. Evie rejoined Heather to hurry toward class. “How about a sleepover? Us, Carol, and Max. I think she needs more girls in her life. No boys invited.”

   Heather hugged her books close to grin easier.

   “I’d like that.” 

~~~~~

A/N: Letting these two finally just be intimate is everything to me. Thank you so so much for reading. Comments and rbs are well loved and appreciated!! Feel free to chat with me, pretty please! Tag list & ask open. xoxo :)

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @alagalaska @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10​ @charmed-asylum​ @unmistakablyunknown​ @lukespatterson​

[thekillercinnamonroll]

Truth Or Dare (Kiibo x Reader)

I wrote this instead of sleeping. Enjoy, y’all.

It's the middle of the night and you're in your good friend Kiibo's dorm room. This is how you've spent the majority of your nights since the start of the Killing Game. With him being a robot and not needing sleep and you being a major insomniac, it's only logical that you keep each other company at night. Every night, you both meet up to talk about your fears, your hopes, your similarities, your differences. Through these late-night chats, you've formed a strong friendship- a bond based on trust and respect.

And what more could you want? Things are good (despite the Killing Game). However, when you watch how his eyes (literally) light up when you ask him questions about himself, or feel your heart racing whenever he says your name, you can't help but feel that things could be better- much better. You can't deny it any longer. You love Kiibo, and you need to tell him before it's too late. There's just one problem: the thought of confessing terrifies you. You've made a few attempts, but they were all in vain; the uncertainty is overwhelming and you end up chickening out at the last second.

Tonight has been about the same as any other night, but things have gotten quiet as you both run out of new things to say. You both fish for conversational topics in silence until an idea suddenly hits you.

"Truth or dare?" you ask, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. You're met with a confused, blank stare in return. "Don't tell me you've never played Truth or Dare before! It's, like, a staple party game!" you say in disbelief.

"I can't say I have," Kiibo replies with a frown, "I'm familiar with the premise, but I've never actually had the opportunity to participate in the game myself. I never had many friends my age growing up, so I was never invited to many parties."

"I suppose that makes sense," you muse. Kiibo had previously told you about how making friends was difficult for him as a child; most of his peers were either afraid of him or prone to asking robophobic questions that he didn't know how to answer. "But I'm your friend now, and it's certainly not too late for your first time! Truth or Dare?"

Kiibo thinks for a moment.

"Truth." You can already tell that this is going to be fun. Now is your chance to get the information you so desperately crave from the person you admire so deeply.

"Have you ever been in love?" you ask. It's a bold move for a first question, but what is this game if not bold? Kiibo seems taken aback.

"Are you insinuating that just because I'm a robot, I can't feel love?" Oh fuck. You've fucked up. You sigh.

"No no no, I didn't mean it like that!" You scramble, trying to remedy the situation. "It's a pretty common question in this game. I'd have asked you that whether you were a robot or human!" He still seems a bit skeptical, but softens a little bit at your explanation. But then a thought dawns on you and your sly smirk reappears. "Are you trying to dodge the question? C'mon, 'fess up! Have you ever been in love?" Kiibo blushes. You raise your eyebrows, prompting him to spill the beans.

"...Y-yes…" he stammers. "I-I have." Without thinking, you speak,

"Oh shit, really? Who?!" He's immediately on the defense.

"Hey! If I'm not mistaken, you can only ask one question per turn!" You sigh. He's right.

"Fine, fine. Your turn to ask." And that he does.

"Truth or dare?" he asks, now with a smirk of his own. He holds the cards now and he knows it. You're about to say truth when you realize that if he steals your question, it's all over for you. You need more information before you can confess your feelings. You swallow your pride.

"Dare." After all, what's the worst he could do? He's innocent as fuck. He thinks for a moment and then grins.

"I dare you to perform stand-up comedy for three minutes!" he proudly announces. You go pale. While it was very innocent as far as dares go, he still managed to pick one that both excited and terrified you. You may be fairly confident, but you're certainly no Ultimate Comedian. "Whenever you're ready, (Y/n)!" He patiently waits. You take a deep breath and an idea pops into your head.

"So here's the deal with humans..." You take the concept and run with it, giving a speech full of playful jabs toward the human race and all of their illogical mannerisms. Kiibo, of course, found this hilarious and appreciated that you were such a good sport about the topic. Once time is up, you sigh with relief, finding yourself with a newfound respect for professional comedians. Nevertheless, it was worth it to see Kiibo so happy. 

"Anyway, now it's my turn. Truth or dare, Kiibo?" The question you have planned burns on your tongue. You have to know if you're the one he loves. You're practically already asking it, not waiting for his answer, until-

"Dare." He speaks the word and your thoughts stop dead in their tracks. There goes that plan… unless… you could convince him to change his mind?

"Are you sure you want to choose dare? Are you positive? Absolutely certain???" you ask, giving him a chance to back out. He appears worried, but unfortunately does not fold under the pressure.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'd like to experience both parts of this game!" he says cheerfully. His optimism only makes this harder. You sigh.

"Alright, if you insist. But don't say I didn't warn you!" A wicked smile crosses your face. You didn't want to do this to him, but he's giving you no choice. You'd might as well take some enjoyment in it. "I dare you to ding-dong-ditch Kokichi." You watched his eyes widen in fear. If he had blood, it all would've drained from his face immediately.

"(Y-y/n)..." he whimpers, "that's mean…" You have to look away from his puppy-dog eyes. No feeling sorry for him. This had to be done.

"I did give you every opportunity to change your mind." Your eyes meet his and you crumble. "Fine, since this is your first time, if you wanna change your mind and do truth instead I'll let you. But don't expect it to happen again!"

"I-I'd like that" He sighs with relief. "I choose truth!" This is it, your chance to ask him the question.

"Who are you in love with?" The blush returns to his face. You try not to look too hopeful. You know very well that he could say any name, but you know that even a name other than yours is better than uncertainty. A few moments pass, but they feel like millennia.

"..."

"..."

"You," he squeaks out, unable to meet your eyes. "I-I'm in love with you, (Y/n)." You hold back a gasp, but tears still flood your eyes. "Well?" he says after a few silent moments pass. "D-do you feel the same way?" You give a sly smile.

"You didn't ask me truth or dare." You're being a coy little bitch and you know it.

"T-truth or dare?" he weakly asks with a sigh.

"Truth."

"D-do you love me? Romantically?" You've had your fun and you're ready to finally give him a straight answer.

"Yes," You take his hand in yours. "I've been in love with you for a long time, Kiibo." Tears of joy stream down your face. "Truth or dare?" you ask one final time.

"Truth," he replies through virtual tears of his own.

"Will you be my boyfriend?"

"I'd love to."