#and all the loathing that had been inside of me for years broke and washed out over the cold concrete

[joequiinn]

You'll Just Have to Taste Me | toxic exes e.m. x reader

Summary | You knew you’d risk running into Eddie when you walked into one of his favorite music venues, but maybe that’s exactly what you were counting on.

Warnings & Notes | fem!reader, smut, established past relationship, toxic!reader, asshole!Eddie, shitty behavior all around, semipublic sex, unprotected sex (p in v), choking, ass play, name calling/mild degradation

Author's Note | I - a self-identified metal head - can’t stop listening to Sabrina Carpenter, and this is what it’s left me with. Eddie and reader are both assholes here, so if you aren't game for shitty, petty bad behavior, then this may not be the fic for you~

WC | 7.4k

!!! MINORS DNI !!!

You knew better than to pay visits to Eddie’s usual haunts. These dive bars and show venues crammed with sweaty drunks and kids carrying fake IDs were never your scene, but back when things were different, you were always happy to oblige him.

Since your break up, you’d been so good at avoiding any and all places you’d ever visited with Eddie in the past - the record store he dragged you into to buy the latest Megadeth or Iron Maiden cassette, the shitty fast food restaurant that supposedly had the “best chili in town,” the dollar theater that was always playing B-movies you’d never even heard of. You always felt that compulsion to step foot in these businesses on the chance of running into Eddie, but you had, thus far, managed to keep yourself in line.

But when your friend, Lara, mentioned that she’d be playing a show at the Viper Room this weekend, well… you simply couldn’t turn down her invitation. You had spent dozens upon dozens of nights in this little venue, either by Eddie’s side bobbing along to the loud music or watching him up on the stage, playing his guitar so damn aggressively that sometimes his fingers would bleed. You’d grown familiar with the Viper Room, with the metal music that made its walls shake and the bar top that was sticky from years upon years of spilled drinks; and you hadn’t been back since you and Eddie broke up.

So, you obliged Lara and her band, hoping that none of them would suspect that you agreed to come along because you wanted to run into Eddie. You’d had nearly everyone around you convinced that you were over the split, that you barely thought about your ex most days - but you knew the truth, and that was far from it.

You craved him desperately despite all the bullshit you put one another through, you missed him despite how ugly things ended between you two. And yet you loathed him in the same breath, hoping he was just as tormented as you following your break up;and if you took it upon yourself to make sure Eddie was dealt at least a small hand of torment, well…

So, here you were, prowling the Viper Room as you waited for Lara’s band to go on, gaze patrolling the venue for any sign of Eddie fucking Munson; it was practically unheard of for him not to pop in to see who was playing, so if he weren’t here you’d be royally pissed off. Your heart drummed nervously inside your chest, an uneasy rhythm that had you briefly second guessing this idea, wondering if you should just play it cool and not instigate something. After all, you’d always been prone to crazy shit that landed you in trouble, prone to aggressions and dramatics all simply because you could. Hell, Eddie could’ve used that as an excuse in your break up, but he was just as bad as you, confrontational and jealous and mean; needless to say, you were both a little fucked up.

And, eventually, you did spot Eddie halfway through the band’s first song, chatting up the security guy with a cigarette hanging from his lips, a beer held tight in one hand while his arm was hanging around some other chick. A nasty, envious wave of anger crashed over you at the sight of her, your eyes dark and crazy and dangerous.

And the more you looked at her, the more pissed off you got, the more red you saw washing over your vision - why the fuck did she look so much like you? From her hair to her build to her goddamn wardrobe, you felt like you were staring into some trick mirror warping your image - there was no way that this was some coincidence, Eddie wasn't that stupid.

You looked back and forth between her and Eddie, wondering if he brought this chick along on the off-chance that you’d be here to see them together. That was some shit you wouldn’t put past him, Eddie was no more above pettiness than you were. But did that mean he was hoping you’d be here, too? Your blood boiled even hotter at the thought; at least you didn’t bring some bargain bin version of Eddie along in the hopes that it would piss him off, you were just hoping to get him riled up a little.

Feeling just how rapidly your rage was escalating, you turned your back quickly and marched towards the bar in some measly attempt to compose yourself; you didn’t want to go flying off the handle, after all. The bartender that you’d grown familiar with over the years offered you a shot as if he knew exactly what was going on, and although you didn’t want anyone’s goddamn pity, you needed at least something to help you cool off.

You kept your eyes on Eddie and this chick, your stare following them as they mingled and danced and smoked. Whoever she was, it was obvious she was falling for Eddie’s charm just as quickly as you and everyone else did; Eddie, on the other hand, seemed only mildly interested, putting forth little effort to make her feel wanted. You smiled cruelly at that, though it ticked you off again because why would he bring her along otherwise?

At some point, the woman stole away to approach the bar, and like some animal just waiting to strike, you slunk over, cramming your way in beside her as she asked the bartender for a drink. She paid you no mind, clearly trying to ignore all the patrons in this place that must have been unfamiliar to her; you eyed her thoughtfully, not really sure what you planned on doing now but letting your mouth run anyway.

“First time here?” You asked in a tone that would’ve been suspiciously innocent to anyone that knew you. She looked at you with detached eyes, nodding before trying to turn her attention away, a silent indication that she wasn’t interested in conversation. You, however, weren’t done, “You here with Munson?”

Now, she looked at you more cautiously, actually taking the opportunity to look you in the eye, brow furrowed curiously, “Eddie really does know everyone, huh?”

You smirked snidely, leaning against the counter as you looked about the venue for the man in question, “Oh, everyone. I’d bet he’s been so preoccupied with everyone else that he’s barely paid any mind to you.”

You stared at her fiendishly, taking far too much pleasure in the way her expression slowly fell, the way her gaze grew concerned and wary. Just to make things worse, you continued, “Get used to being ignored, Eddie can’t help but entertain the masses while forgetting about the people standing right there.”

The woman looked at you dreadfully for a few long moments before her expression slowly morphed, twisting into a scowl as if something was dawning on her. And you simply looked back with a smug raise of your brow, taking far too much joy from antagonizing this stranger.

“My god, you’re Eddie’s ex, aren’t you?” Her tone was biting as she asked it; you smiled back brazenly, to which she rolled her eyes, “Jesus, you’re as bad as he said.”

“I like to think I’m worse.” You answered with glee as if to mock her, leaning in just a little, “But still not as bad as him.”

The woman pushed off of the bar, no longer concerned with getting a new drink, but she paused before stomping away, staring harshly at you. She looked you up and down crudely, and you could see the exact moment she realized the thing you had noticed earlier - the two of you looked damn near related. She scoffed at the realization, as if disgusted by both you and Eddie.

Cursing under her breath, she stormed off, your gaze following after her; you realized then that Eddie had seen the interaction and was already approaching you two, but before he could get a word out, the woman shoulder-checked past him.

Eddie’s glare was vicious as he met your eyes, and he looked frustrated enough that even you wanted to shrink just a little. His march towards you was hostile, eyes blazing and jaw clenched tight; shoving down your distress, you stood up tall and resilient, hoping your express was one of perfect, condescending apathy.

“She seemed really great, Eddie, shame it’s not going to work out.”

Eddie was upon you, practically trapping you between him and the bar as he glared daggers; you nearly gasped at the closeness and malice, at the familiar sensation of something ugly breaking out between you two.

“What the fuck did you do?” He growled.

You gave an innocent shrug, frowning falsely, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Eddie’s jaw flexed. His hand shot out and grabbed your elbow so aggressively that it made you choke on a yelp as he abruptly began to drag you towards the bathroom, shoving the door open without a care for whether or not someone may be in there. He pulled you into the cramped room, slamming and locking the door behind him before spinning his mean glare back around on you. You stared back just as harshly, never the type to back down when his temper was escalating; in fact, it took everything in you not to grin smugly, getting exactly the rise out of him that you were hoping for.

“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you?” His tone was biting as he took a threatening step into your space, trapping you between himself and the grimy tile wall at your back, “You show up here on the one night that I bring a date and pull some kind of stunt just to fuck with me. That’s laughable, even for you.”

Although your eyes were wild with the impulse to argue, you held in as much anger as you could, your attitude combative and condescending, “Me? You’re just as bad - coming to my friend’s gig, bringing a girl along with you that’s clearly some cheap knockoff of me. I’d bet you were fucking hoping I’d be here, just so you could rub it in that you’d ‘moved on.’”

Eddie’s laugh was blatantly unamused, sarcastic and nasty as he leaned in even closer, “You think I’d pull that? As if I’d ever want to see you again.”

You raised your brows and frowned in a false show of sympathy, “Oh, you poor thing who are you trying to convince - me or yourself?”

Eddie was so damn close that you could practically taste the booze on his breath, his body radiating so much heat that it dared to engulf you. His eyes were nearly pitch black as they burned into yours, “You’re impossible, you know that? You always were.”

“Careful, babe, I might take that as a compliment.” You grinned wickedly from ear-to-ear, pushing closer while jabbing a finger into his chest, “You’re just as bad as me, so stop pretending you’re some innocent victim to my shit.”Eddie smirked back just as cruelly, snapping his hand around yours in a vice grip, squeezing hard enough that it nearly hurt, “And don’t act like you were being harmless when we both know you’re too smart not to have an ulterior motive. So, are you here because Lara asked you to come or are you here for something else?”

Each word grew a little lower until it nearly sounded as if Eddie was whispering a threat; he inched closer, his face dangerously close to yours. Taking a deep breath to maintain your composure, you leveled him with a challenging glare, as if simply doing that could prove him wrong. You tipped your chin up defiantly, browning arching with all the attitude you could muster.

“I’ll only tell if you do.” Your tone was sickly sweet, lips but a short breath away from Eddie’s as you looked between his dark eyes.

“God, you’re a pain in my ass.” Eddie grumbled lowly, eyes flicking down to your cruel yet enticing red lips, fingers tightening around your hand that he still held trapped between you two.

Your expression was wicked in response, voice a taunting whisper, “But you miss me, don’t you?”

Eddie clenched his jaw tight, gaze flaring a little harsher as he stared as if his eyes could hurt you. A self-satisfied smile crawled across your lips, expression goading as you looked back, just waiting for the answer that you hoped would come. Eddie took a deep breath of frustration.

“You’re goddamn right.” He hissed as if the words burned his tongue, his face alight with the combined frustration and desire that you’d become familiar with after all your time together.

As your pleased grin grew larger, Eddie crashed his lips to yours with ferocity, his movements so fast that your head bounced back into the wall You moaned into the hateful kiss, arms flying up to grab at his vest, nails scratching his neck and chest in the process. Eddie crushed you back against the tile, hands grabbing and squeezing your body as if to both hurt you and memorize you all over again.

His mouth tasted like the familiar sting of whiskey, skin smelling of sweat and cologne in a combination that you’d missed desperately. You kissed him as if your life depended on it, sloppy and wet and aggressive, as Eddie’s hands snaked around your body to grab at your ass. He squeezed hard enough to make you hiss, a primal groan rumbling in his chest at the feel of you.

You reached up to grab fistfuls of his hair, yanking him back roughly just so you could hear that satisfying hiss of pain pass between his lips; you smiled sinfully as Eddie glared down his nose at you. Tauntingly, you tugged at his curls again, licking your lower lip as if the sight of his frustration whet your appetite like nothing else.

“This is the last date you ever go on with that girl?” You asked snidely, delighting in the way Eddie huffed with a glare.

“Last. One.” He answered with gritted teeth.

Your smile grew even crueler and wider, “You’ve got the real thing right here, you don’t need some other chick.”

You began to draw Eddie's lips back down to yours, but he abruptly pressed his large hand to your neck, fingers curling slightly without closing in. Surprise flashed across your expression before it was quickly replaced by excitement, Eddie’s words hot against your lips, “And if you’re going to start bossing me around again, you’re going to behave for me, got it?”

You reached your lips up to brush against his, “The best I can.”

Eddie’s fingers tightened, creating pressure on either side of your neck, “That was a yes or no question.”

A jolt ran down your spine, heat pooling in your center as your body clenched tight around nothing. Knowing exactly what he was doing to you, Eddie pressed his hot, tense body against yours insistently.

You practically gasped with anticipation, “Yes.”

A devious smirk crossed Eddie’s lips, eyes hooded and fiendish, “Good girl.”

An eager mewl sounded in your throat as Eddie’s hand tightened, lips meeting yours once more in a kiss so heated that it made your eyes cross. His other hand cupped your ass again, grip severe as his tongue forced its way past your lips, ensnaring yours dominantly.

Eddie rutted his hips clumsily against yours, his growing erection already creating a strained tent in his jeans; you moaned needily as you felt him growing harder against you. The rolling of his hips was rapacious, slow and deep as if he were already buried inside you; it made you desperate for some friction, tugging at Eddie’s hair again as you attempted to roll your hips with his.

Abruptly, Eddie stole his lips away, pressing his forehead against yours and using the weight of his body to keep your hips from moving again. A wicked smile spread across his lips as you moaned in frustration; chuckily airily, he rutted his hips one more time at a tantalizing pace, grip still firm and commanding on your neck.

“God, you’re so fucking easy,” his words were biting, and yet his tone was enthralled, “I’ve barely touched you and already you’re acting greedy.”

Using his hand to guide you, Eddie spun you around in the cramped space, directing you to the filthy sink, its faucet leaking. You braced your hands on the lip of the counter, as Eddie pressed himself flush to your back, cocked rubbing gainst your ass and mouth teasing at your ear. With a whine, you pushed your ass back against him, causing both of Eddie’s hands to tighten their grip again.

“So greedy,” He moaned in your ear, using his hand on your neck to direct your attention to the mirror - it was shattered and layered with fading stickers, but in one sliver of glass, you found his predatory eyes burning into you, “You can be patient, can’t you?”

You nodded even as you pushed back against him, the need for his body becoming too much already. In retaliation, Eddie reared his hand back and struck your ass with a practiced hit, eyes glinting as you yelped with surprise and delight.

“Patience.” He emphasized darkly, pressing his face into your hair and inhaling deeply as if he was starved and your scent could satiate him. As you shivered eagerly, Eddie’s hands dragged down your body, creating a hot trail along your back, your waist, your ass. You arched back into his touch, desperate for more. He palmed your ass once more before grabbing the waist of your tight pants, giving them one harsh tug to expose your plump ass and the itty, bitty thong you wore. Eddie curled his finger in its lacy band, snapping it against your skin as his lips tickled your ear again, “These ones were always my favorite…”

Your voice was a gasp, “I know.”

His hands squeezed your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he inhaled your scent again,  “Just for me, huh?”

You hummed a yes, gaze staring wantonly into the mirror’s broken reflection, watching Eddie’s dark expression in anticipation. He leaned back just enough to ogle your body, tongue poking out between his teeth as he delighted in the sight of you longing for him.

Eddie slid one of his feet between yours, nudging you to spread your legs for him, his hands hungrily groping at your ass. You obliged as much as the pants around your knees would allow, the cold of the bathroom causing goosebumps to break out across your exposed skin as you awaited Eddie’s next move.

His hand glided along your skin, dipping down between your legs and teasing you through the thin fabric of your thong. You moaned, trying to roll your hips closer, but Eddie was having none of it - his opposite hand slapped your ass again, jaw tight as he found your gaze in the reflection once more. The corner of his mouth curled up as he stared at you through his lashes.

Again, his fingers ghosted over your pussy, the near-contact causing you to practically growl with impatience. Eddie pressed his chest to your back again so he could speak lowly into your ear.

“You’re going to stand there like a good girl and wait - you only get what you want when I decide to give it to you.” The command made you moan, head rolling back as if Eddie were already touching you just the way you liked; you could only imagine the self-satisfied smirk that must have been on his lips, but you didn’t dare look at him in the mirror’s reflection.

Eddie snaked his arm around to your front as he pressed you flush against him, the tip of his cock poking your ass even through the fabric of his jeans. His hand slowly reached back down into your thong, fingertips grazing your skin in a way that sent a shiver through your entire body; you fought to hold still, hoping your patience would reward you.

Eddie’s calloused finger circled your clit, causing a moan to spill from your mouth as your grip tightened on the countertop. A huff of a laugh escaped Eddie as he applied more pressure, lips hot and close to your ear again.

“So, so easy…” He teased. You bit your lip as his finger prodded, gliding from your clit to your pussy and back, hips grinding slowly against your ass. As his fingertips moved in slow, practiced circles, he continued to taunt, “This what you wanted? To get me all riled up so I’d give you a piece of my mind?”

You nodded dumbly, throwing your head back as Eddie increased his pace just enough to make your body shudder. His opposite hand grabbed roughly at your hip, holding tight as his own impatience won out, abruptly dipping two fingers into your wet folds. You cried out in the same breath that Eddie moaned, grinding his hips while curling his fingers knuckle deep in just the way he knew you loved.

“Already so fucking wet…” He groaned into your hair as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you, cock twitching against your ass as a string of lurid sounds escaped your parted lips. God, it was pathetic just how easily you were coming undone in his hands, how easily you succumbed to Eddie’s touch - a months’ long dry spell ruined you, making you impossibly wet from the moment he laid a hand on you.

As Eddie’s fingers continued to pleasure you, he pressed his thumb to your clit, moving in tight, merciless circles that caused your back to arch, rear pressing hungrily against his cock and head thrown back onto his shoulder. Eddie’s opposite hand reached up to latch onto your neck again, his lips hot as they dragged along your cheek.

“Gonna cum already?” He teased breathily, smiling against your skin, “Gonna get off from just my fingers?”

“N-no--” You stuttered out, as if somehow that could keep you from spilling over.

Eddie hummed in disagreement, curving his fingers again, “This pussy’s still mine.”

Your breath hitched, preventing any arguments from leaving your mouth as Eddie picked up speed, fingers slick with your desire. His other hand reached from your neck to your jaw, twisting your head to face him so he could plant sloppy, wet, domineering kisses on your lips.

“Still mine…” He breathed out as you clenched around his fingers, unabashed moans escaping you as your senses became frenzied, knees already beginning to shake. You could feel Eddie’s lips curl into another wicked grin, “You better not cum yet.”

A desperate whine sounded out of you again, and so Eddie’s hand on your jaw squeezed tight, thumb cruel against your clit as he bent you forward a little over the counter. You blinked your eyes open, vision crossed as you met his stare in the mirror.

“If you cum now, I’ll stop.” Eddie taunted, curving his fingers again for good measure. You mewled pathetically, to which he pressed his hips against yours, grinding them with each repetition, “All you do is take and take and take. What did I say about behaving?”

Just to torment you further, Eddie nipped at your throat, teeth digging into the spot below your jawline; you groaned, to which he began to pump his fingers even faster. The sensation in your clit was becoming too much, your toes curling inside your boots as you leaned more of your weight over the counter; and to that, too, Eddie became even more cruel, swirling your clit so good it made you see goddamn stars behind your eyes.

You tripped over your words, all of them spilling out in succession as you began to come undone, “Fuc-- Eddie-- I can’t--!”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He growled primally against your neck, but it was too late, your orgasm crashing over you wildly as you moaned unabashedly, legs shaking and pussy throbbing as you braced yourself over the sink.

Torturously, Eddie kept swirling your clit, making you shudder near uncontrollably. He bit at your skin again as his hand squeezed your jaw.

“You never listen, always gotta misbehave…” He grumbled, pulling back from you; you had to steady yourself, body still wracking from your orgasm, “Maybe I’ll go find that girl - bet I could fuck her for hours and she'd be good.”

Your head shot up, Eddie having said just the right words to bring you back to earth. Before you could glare at him in the reflection, though, he twisted one hand in your hair while the other smacked you across the ass, causing you to yelp in both pain and pleasure. Eddie pulled you back, pressing his cheek into your hair.

Finally catching your breath, you hissed,”You won't.”

“I won't?” Eddie teased, to which you shook your head; his fingers twisted even tighter.

Fuck, you could've drooled over the growl in Eddie’s voice, the way he manhandled you; and you were certain he knew it, too. You hoped to appear defiant as you kept your chin high and collected yourself, hiding your wince as Eddie tugged at your hair.

“Wanna keep me all to yourself, isn't that right, you brat?” His words were sharp and hot against your skin as he dragged his nose along your neck.

“Yes.” You nearly whispered, willing to play a little nicer if it meant Eddie would ravage you.

He smiled before nipping at your neck, lips trailing back up to your ear, his teeth grazing over your lobe as he purred, “Want this to be the only dick you ever get? Hm, no one fucks you like I do, isn’t that right, baby?”

You moaned as an aroused chill rolled through your body, arching back into Eddie and pressing your rear against his cock, still tight and strained within his jeans, just out of reach and teasing the fuck out of you, “Yeah…”

“Good.”

Eddie gave your pants another aggressive tug all the way down to your ankles, grabbing at your hips and giving them a hungry squeeze. He yanked you back a couple steps and pressed a firm palm to the center of your back, quickly making you lean over the counter; your forehead nearly bumped against the faucet in your shared excitement.

Eddie nudged the inside of your foot with his toe, insisting that you spread yourself even wider for him, to which you obliged. He groaned with anticipation, and you were sure he was eying your ass like it was a goddamn meal; unable to resist, he clapped his hand against your cheek again, drawing another delighted yelp out of you.

Eddie shoved your soaked panties to the side, teasing your pussy with his fingers again; the stimulation made you shiver, hips jolting from just how sensitive you still were. As he continued to glide his finger along your slit, you could hear Eddie’s belt unbuckling followed by his jeans unzipping - your pussy clenched at just the thought of his cock freeing from his underwear, the telltale sound of its head dully bouncing off his stomach then making you moan.

“So easy…” Eddie repeated again through gritted teeth, barely inserting one finger inside you just to watch you squirm. A faint whine escaped you as you attempted to push your hips back, but he stopped you easily, fingers digging into your waist as if in warning, “No no, you’re gonna be good for me, gonna be a pretty little cock sleeve.”

You nodded vigorously, trying to look back at Eddie over your shoulder. He stole his hand from your pussy and wrapped it into your hair again, pulling you back just enough so you could see the inflamed, dark look in his eyes, stare practically hypnotic. You could feel his cock ghosting along your rear, and you sighed with desperate longing.

Eddie dragged his free hand slowly up your body, groping and teasing up your back and neck to your face; he reached around and pressed his first two fingers to your parted lips, his gaze watching hungrily as he slid them into your mouth, your breath hot as you sighed eagerly. You closed your lips and swirled your wet tongue around Eddie’s fingers, eyes fluttering shut when you heard him groan and give your hair a small tug. When his cock twitched against your ass, you bobbed your head, mouth sliding up and down his calloused fingers as your spit made a vulgar slurping sound around him.

Eddie muttered sinfully as you sucked his fingers, his rings metallic and warm against your lips; if you weren’t so preoccupied, you would’ve mocked him for being just as easy and horny as you. After letting you thoroughly coat him in spit, Eddie popped his digits from your mouth, snaking back down between you and to your pussy again. You pressed back into his hand, his fingertips teasing at you - he grabbed his throbbing cock, tapping its head on your ass provocatively.

As he lined himself up with your entrance, you couldn’t help but moan at the way just his tip filled you up, giving your ass a little wiggle that made Eddie tug at your hair. He grabbed hold of your hips with both hands, squeezing your skin roughly as you clenched around the head of his cock, desperate for more; a faint hiss sounded through Eddie’s teeth.

“You want it?” He taunted huskily, holding you tight as you whined in your throat.

“Yes.”

He hummed snidely, enjoying how damn desperate you were, “Work for it, brat.”

Another chill rolled up your spine at the command, your cunt flexing around him. Bracing yourself steadily against the counter, you took an eager breath before sliding back onto Eddie’s girth, ass bouncing up against his hips. The two of you moaned in unison, his cock twitching inside you as you adjusted to his size, walls clenching tightly around him; Eddie’s fingers dug into the meat of your hips, pushing up into you and making you gasp as he hit you nice and deep.

“You missed this cock?” Eddie jeered, not waiting for an answer, “Come on, prove it.”

Dutifully, you pulled your hips forward, the feel of his cock sliding inside you causing another wild moan to leap from your mouth. Hearing Eddie’s own sigh of satisfaction, you eagerly sunk back down on his dick, body bobbing in a needy rhythm as you clung even tighter to the counter.

“That’s right…” Eddie groaned, hands on your hips guiding you up and down his shaft, hips thrusting up to meet yours each time you sunk back; the snap of his hips was just rough enough to make violent moans escape you each time, “You take me so good, baby.”

Spurred by his words, you sped up a little, Eddie’s hands grabbing at your hair, your ass, zealous for your body. The sound of your ass clapping against his hips echoed off the tile, your moans mingling and overlapping with each other. Already, you could feel your thighs burning with exertion, knees growing shaky as your pleasure started to mount once more; god, how pathetic that you were already growing weak again, that you were wobbly with effort and sopping wet with lust.

Feeling a change in your rhythm, Eddie grabbed you tight, bending you over till your chest was flush with the counter; finally, he took charge, beginning to thrust deep inside you with quick, rapid strokes, hands holding you steady.

“What is it, brat, already drunk on this cock?” He teased through clenched teeth, hips slamming harshly into yours as you moaned and panted in response, “Fuck, you take me so good; already about to cum again, dirty slut?”

Just as you thought you were about to topple over the edge, Eddie slowed his violent thrusts, practically laughing at your frustrated groan and your knuckles flexing around the counter’s edge. Eddie rolled his hips cruelly, as if he wanted you to chase after the orgasm that he wasn’t ready to give you just yet.

He grabbed hold of your wrists and pulled them behind your back, shifting them securely into one hand while the other gave your ass a firm slap. As you yelped, Eddie rolled his hips deep and slow against yours.

“Greedy…” His voice was muffled as if speaking with something in his mouth; you gazed up out of the corner of your eye, watching him pop his thumb from between his lips, a thread of drool dripping down as his eyes glinted at you wickedly, “Greedy, greedy brat.”

When Eddie’s thumb teased at your asshole, a profane gasp escaped you. His hips stuttered a moment, pulling nearly all the way out of you as his thumb continued its slow, lecherous circle. You moaned desperately, missing the feel of his girth buried deep inside you, but Eddie refrained from giving you what you wanted, his thumb prodding at your ass. And then abruptly, he sunk into both holes, balls and knuckle deep in tandem, the instant stimulation making you cry out and cum without any warning like some goddamn virgin.

“No, again?” Eddie teased as his thumb massaged inside of you, cock twitching against your tightly clamped walls, “You missed this cock so bad…”

You could barely form words, tongue heavy in your mouth as you breathed out, “So bad, baby…”

“Got off twice already.” Eddie muttered as if to himself, hooking his thumb just to get another gasp out of you, your hips bucking with a shiver. He tugged at your wrists, still held tight in his large hand, and forced you to straighten up, the slowly changing angle making your pussy and ass ache with pleasure. You mewled weakly, feeling Eddie at your back again, face pressed into your messy hair as he breathed you in.

He rolled his hips again oh-so cruelly, his own moan vulgar at the change of angle, rutting his cock that extra bit deeper once he was already buried in you. His rhythm was tantalizing now, thrusting in and out of you as slowly as he could so that you’d both feel each and every little movement; his thumb pumped inside your ass in time with his cock, the sensation of both holes being filled making your eyes cross and your head spin.

“Fuck, baby…” Eddie growled against your ear, the sound making you clench tightly around is cock again, all your senses running haywire from how goddamn overstimulated you were. Your breath ragged and skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, you began to roll your hips in time with Eddie’s thrusts, practically standing on your toes just to feel his cock hit that spot you loved.

Eddie grunted hungrily as he slid through your slick folds again and again and again, speed picking up with each pump; your gasping and moaning only seemed to encourage him, your breath hitching each time he thrust extra hard into you. His hand around your wrists was so tight that it would’ve hurt were you not preoccupied, his thumb in your ass pushing in and out of you at its own pace, turning your knees to putty. Your legs shook beneath you, and if it weren’t for the way Eddie thrust you forward into the counter, you feared you might sink to the floor.

“Aw, you’re spent.” Eddie whispered devilishly into your ear, his hips slapping harder and faster into you as if it were punishment, “You know I’m not done with you yet.”

You nodded, although you knew it was unnecessary, and Eddie pushed you forward again, holding you just inches above the countertop by your wrists. Abruptly, he pulled his cock clean out of you, causing you to cry out at the loss of it, wet pussy clenching desperately around nothing as the cold bathroom air hit you.

Eddie chuckled behind you, hooking his thumb again and making you throw your head back. Cruelly, he pumped his thumb as deep inside you as it could go, eager mewls falling from your parted lips; you realized you were drooling, but you didn’t care. Eddie’s thumb sped up, making your panting more frantic, your back arched desperately as your toes curled.

“Could bury my cock right in your ass and you’d let me, huh?” Eddie taunted, and you nodded wildly in response. The head of his dick bounced against your ass cheek, goosebumps breaking out across your skin and a pathetic moan rising from your throat in desperation, “Could do whatever I want to you.”

Pushing his thumb nice and deep inside you, Eddie stopped, waiting until you impatiently jutted your ass against his hand. With another low laugh, Eddie removed his thumb and spun you around so quickly that you nearly stumbled, his hands catching you and body immediately pinning you back against the counter.

“No, I’ll save that for next time.” He growled, lips dangerously close to yours again. You could practically taste the sweat on his skin, your breath mingling as his eyes stared into yours; your hands had nearly fallen asleep while Eddie was holding them back, and they tingled as you steadied them atop the counter behind you, “That’s what you want, right? A next time?”

You hummed with an insistent whine, Eddie loving the sight of you messy and practically pleading for more. He squatted down a little so he could hook his hands beneath your quivering thighs, practically throwing you up onto the counter, the lip of the sink digging into your ass. A primal sound rose in Eddie’s throat as he tugged your pants from one of your legs and shoved it up, foot resting atop the counter as he dragged your body closer, nearly falling off the edge if it weren’t for his sturdy grip. He palmed your cunt with a vulgar smirk, leaning in close again.

“Whattaya say, lucky number three?” His hot breath washed across your lips, fingers swirling your clit lazily, his opposite hand pressing firmly against your throat once more.

Eddie’s thick cock nudged at your pussy, thrusting up into you nice and slow as you moaned together. His forehead rested against yours as his hand on your throat tightened, constricting your air just enough that your eyes crossed and your mouth hung open in ecstasy. Bottoming out, Eddie rolled his hips against yours, your pussy clenching around him as you felt another string of drool begin a trail down your lip.

Eddie pulled back enough to watch your face as his hips started slapping into your ass aggressively, his rhythm frantic and cruel and so damn delectable as you rocked atop the counter. Each gasp came out short and high in your throat, the sensation of Eddie’s cock hitting deep making your body tighten like a spring, the feel of his hand at your throat making your eyes roll back into your skull.

He groaned hoarsely, repeating roughly under his breath like a mantra, “So fucking good, so fucking good.”

His eyes were black with desire as they looked into yours, the intensity of his stare making your muscles contract wildly, hips rolling rapidly against his to create even more friction against your clit. Throwing your head back, you moaned unabashedly, and Eddie nipped along the underside of your jaw, fingers tightening even more around your throat; the lack of oxygen was becoming intoxicating, your breaths shorter and hitched as Eddie thrust up into you.

Cock buried nice and deep, Eddie began to rut up that extra bit into you, groaning at the way you clenched tight around him, inarticulate half-words of pleasure slipping past your parted lips. Your combined sounds of ecstasy reverberated off the tile walls, bodies slick with sweat against one another, the cramped room growing hotter and hotter; you gripped the counter even tighter as you curved your hips a little further, immediately mewling as Eddie hit that sweet spot inside you.

Spurred on by your new sounds of pleasure, Eddie’s thrusts grew faster and faster, deeper and deeper, driving you absolutely fucking wild. He used the hand at your throat to dip your head to one side, mouth latching tight to your neck, teeth nipping and lips sucking hard - the slight pain made you yelp eagerly,  excited by the inevitable hickey that was going to form. Knowing that he was getting you close yet again, Eddie reached down to press his fingers to your clit, experting rolling them in stimulating circles; he breathed heavily against your neck, lips hot and wet with spit.

You cried out as another intense orgasm hit you like a crashing wave, your eyes rolling back as your tight body practically quivered from the overwhelming satisfaction you felt from your head down to your goddamn toes. Eddie’s pace didn’t slow even for a second, making your sensitive pussy spasm at the excess pleasure, having to brace yourself tight on the counter so you wouldn’t melt right off it.

Now, Eddie used you like the damn cock sleeve you were, pounding roughly into you as he chased his own orgasm, so, so close that even you could practically taste it. He finally dropped his hand from your throat and gripped the edge of the counter tight so he could ram his cock up into you, his pace rapid and unforgiving; you couldn’t help but smile stupidly at how frantic and desperate he became when he was close, the way you treated your body like a sex toy just so he could get the satisfaction he craved.

“So fucking good, fucking good, fu--”

Eddie’s hips stuttered as he gasped, white knuckling the counter as he shoved himself as deep as he could go, seed spilling inside you; his strained sounds of pleasure made you moan and mewl with bliss. Eddie breathed deeply as his cock twitched inside you, his body weight leaning into yours as he rested his forehead against your neck. You were both sticky and hot, the smell of your sex hanging thick in the air as you both strained to catch your breath.

When Eddie eventually slid out of your pussy, the both of you sighed at the last little bit of stimulation; he took a couple steps back, forcing you to balance yourself on the lip of the counter with limbs that felt like pudding. You looked up at Eddie through your lashes, studying his euphoric expression as you felt his cum begin to seep out of you; his chest heaved deeply as his dark eyes found yours, nearly making you gasp.

As you slowly lowered your wobbly legs until your feet were back on the ground, Eddie pulled his pants back into place, eyeing you up and down like you were a slab of meat and he was still hungry for more even after all that. For a few moments, you simply stood there to regain your balance, Eddie's seed making a slow trail down your thigh; you caught a territorial smirk flash across his face as his eyes followed it down. You began to reach for the towel dispenser, but Eddie snatched your wrist quickly.

“Oh no, you're not cleaning that up.” He sneered wickedly, closing in on you again as he spoke in a low voice, “You're gonna go back out there with my cum soaking your jeans for the rest of the night like the slut you are.”

His words may have made you weak in the knees, but you couldn't help glaring, hot and bothered by the prospect of yet another argument between the two of you, “I got what I came here for - what makes you think I'll be listening to you anymore?”

Eddie leaned in, lips hovering over yours again as he answered huskily, “Because if you listen like a good girl, I'll give you more later.”

The both of you looked at one another with wanton desire, Eddie brushing his thumb along your lower lip before righting himself, stepping back to look at you leeringly again. 

“Now put your clothes on.” He growled, and you quickly followed the instruction.

As Eddie dragged you back out of the bathroom, you could feel eyes glaring at you - the bartender, other patrons, the girl that was supposed to be Eddie's date. You couldn't help but giggle at your predicament, which turned into a full on laugh when Eddie clapped one of the glaring patrons on the shoulder, winking devilishly while guiding you towards the door.

[lynnerdo]

* The Willow's Purpose *

“The willow submits to the wind and prospers until one day it is many willows—a wall against the wind. This is the willow's purpose.”

As sister to Paul Atreides, and trained in secrecy to be a healer Bene Gesserit, you witnessed the rise of the Lisan Al Gaib. As you experience visions and dreams of a certain man, realising that he will be the one fighting your brother to the death changes your perspective on everything. An uncontrollable force takes over you as you revive him, questions lingering in your mind.

***

Fic on AO3

***

Chapter 7 - Revelations

In the days that follow, you delve deeper into the nature of your bond with Feyd. The connection between you is undeniable, a pull that goes beyond mere emotions. One evening, as you sit in quiet meditation with each other, a realisation strikes you with startling clarity: when you saved Feyd's life, you left a part of your soul within him. To heal him, you broke off a piece of yourself, binding your fates together irrevocably.

It's all too much for you to handle and you excuse yourself early. He looks worried but you reassure him you’re fine. He does however feel your fear shine through but decides to let you have your privacy.

This revelation explains the inexorable need you both feel to be near one another, the sense of incompleteness when apart. You remember reading about it in old scriptures you once were handed. It was severely rare for it to happen, and only a few accounts in the last thousands of years had made it so. When you’ve gathered enough evidence in these old scriptures, you decide to confront Feyd with this understanding, hoping it will help you both navigate the complexities of your bond.

You find him in his quarters, his expression pensive as he’s reading a book. He turns as you enter, his eyes immediately locking onto yours.

"Feyd," you begin, your voice steady but filled with the weight of your realization, "I’ve figured out why we feel this way, why we’re so connected."

He raises an eyebrow, effectively dropping the book on his bed, intrigued. "Go on."

"When I healed you, I broke off a piece of my soul," you explain while showing him the scripture. "Here it says to do a soul healing you have to give up a piece of yourself. Usually, it can only be done with another Bene Gesserit administering an extra source of energy but… All the other information checks out. Part of me, that’s in you, wants to return to me, that’s why we feel this need to be around each other."

You’re rambling at this point, trying to explain it as properly as you can. Feyd is silent throughout your entire monologue, only frowning more than before. You’re worried this would be the last straw to upset him even further and you can almost physically feel him. Feyd's eyes widen with understanding, a mixture of awe and confusion washing over his features.

"So, this bond—our very souls…”

You nod, feeling a sense of relief at finally understanding the truth.

"Yes. We’re connected in a way that goes beyond anything either of us has experienced before."

He leans closer, the intensity in his eyes deepening. Before he responds, Feyd's expression hardens, and he grabs your arm, pulling you closer. His touch is rough, but not painful, a reflection of the turmoil inside him.

"I need to do this," he says, his voice low and intense. "I need you to understand how much this affects me."

Without warning, he leans in and kisses you. It’s not a gentle kiss; it’s full of heat and anger, a release of all the frustration and self-loathing he’s been carrying. You feel the depth of his emotions, his hatred toward his own actions and words, his struggle to express love in a way that isn’t tainted by his past. At first, you’re taken aback by the force of his kiss, but then you respond, matching his intensity. It’s a kiss filled with unspoken promises and shared pain, a desperate need to connect on a level that words cannot convey. When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathing heavily, the air between you charged with unspoken emotions. Feyd's eyes search yours, a mixture of vulnerability and determination.

"I hate that I can’t just be loving," he admits, his voice raw with honesty. "I hate that my actions and words always seem to hurt. But I need you to know that I’m trying. I’m trying to be better."

You reach up, cupping his face in your hands, your touch gentle despite the whirlwind of emotions.

"I know, Feyd. I feel it too. This bond we share—it’s not just about the pain. It’s about healing, about finding a way to be better together."

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you.

"Together," he repeats, the word a promise.

In that moment, you feel the weight of your shared burdens lift slightly, replaced by a sense of unity and purpose. The journey ahead will be fraught with challenges, but you are no longer alone. With Feyd by your side, bound by a connection that transcends the physical, you are ready to face whatever the future holds.

You find it hard to leave his quarters later, a string wanting to tug you back into his arms. As you go in to kiss him goodbye for now, his hands find their way to your lower back, slightly pushing you into him. Both of your heartbeats loudly ringing in your ears, his lips too soft on yours. You have an overwhelming feeling to stay but also a duty to fulfill so you leave for now, a painfully cold feeling setting in your heart every time you do.

[thatgirlwithasquid]

The day Billy comes home from hospital after surviving the mind flayer, Neil doesn’t even look at him. It shouldn’t upset him. He should be happy to not have his attention. And yet it hurts in an odd way - sharp like the pain in his still healing wounds whenever he walks, moves, breathes - because after all the shut he went through, his return isn’t even worth Neil’s disdain.

Susan doesn’t look at him for more than fleeting glances, either, but what else is new? She’s never been able to look to him for long. She doesn’t like the guilt of it, but she wouldn’t ever step in for him, not even when he was still a young boy. Now, though, he hopes she sees the bandages wrapped around his sides and thinks of how she didn’t even notice he was out of the house that night. He hopes she drowns in guilt knowing that he could’ve died in that ‘mall fire’ and she’d have had no clue until the emergency services got around to calling his house, because she just never cared to look at the suffering boy living with her.

Max doesn’t say much to him. She barged into his hospital room every day and sat by his side but they haven’t talked. Billy is scared they won’t, that it won’t have been enough that he gasped out a ‘I’m sorry’ with what he was sure would be his dying breath as they loaded him into that ambulance, bleeding and barely conscious. He’s scared he can never fix what he broke with her, because he wants to. After everything he went through, his spite towards her is nothing, just more suffering in a fucked up world that she didn’t deserve.

He hates himself, and everything hurts. He just walks himself to his room, passing Max on her way out as she shouts something to her mom about going round to a friends. Susan smiles at her and then turns back to washing the dishes, resolutely ignoring Billy. It’s two hours later that Susan and Neil leave. They don’t even tell him where they’re going, not that it matters much to him. He just lays in his bed, thumbing at the creased cover of the most recent book Max threw his way to ‘distract him from moping’.

It’s another twenty-three minutes before the doorbell is rung. Another two of incessant, constant ringing and knocking before Billy is heaving himself up, cringing at the pain that lances through him, and moving to answer it.

When he opens the door he nearly stumbles back in shock. On the other side is the girl from that night. She’s not wearing the same clothes, and there’s no blood and grime on her face, but it’s her. Those same eyes that looked right through the monster to him inside, the one who saw that day on the beach.

“Max isn’t here,” he mumbles dumbly. He can barely hear what he’s saying.

“I know,” she tells him.

And then she’s stepping forwards and, so very gently, wrapping her arms around his middle in a hug.

“Thank you,” she says and-

Shit, what the hell is she thanking him for? After everything she did? She’s the only reason he wasn’t stuck like that, the only reason he’s still alive. And she’s stood right there, and she’s hugging him and-

He crumbles, arms coming around her, tight and desperate. She tightens her grip slightly and it makes his sides ache but he doesn’t even care. His face crumples, tears spilling over his cheeks, and he’s shaking. He can’t remember the last time he was hugged.

They stand like that for a minute, and then the girl is pulling away. He’s loathe to let her go, but relents without a fight. Let’s her go like he won’t be thinking about that, every waking moment when the pain is too much to handle, for years now. Let’s her go like he doesn’t need that comfort like he needs air —as odd as it is that a girl his sisters age, who he doesn’t even know the name of, is the person capable of giving it to him.

“Waffles,” the girl says, snapping him out of his thoughts. “Do you want to get waffles with me? Us.”

She glances back at a car behind her, and Billy can see the tired face of the Chief waiting behind the wheel, looking about three seconds away from impatiently honking the horn.

“I-” he starts, but the girl is already gripping his arm and pulling him along.

“Come on,” she says, as the door miraculously swings shut by itself. “I am hungry.”

And Billy is a little too shocked to say anything, a little to confused to resist. So he ends up having waffles for lunch with El - as her name turns out to be - and the chief of police. He ends up being walked to his door by Hopper, personally, who informs his dad that he’s grateful to Billy for protecting El in the ‘accident’, and that Billy will be coming over from time to time to babysit and for dinner and for movie nights, now. Which is news to Billy but he can’t exactly deny the Chief. And neither can Neil.

When Billy passes Max in the hall, from where she’s spying through her open bedroom door, she gives him a determined, understanding nod.

Somehow, Billy thinks he must’ve just been pulled into her crazy, monster-fighting second family. Somehow, he finds that he doesn’t mind at all.

[gryffindors-weasley]

Enamored

Ron Weasley x Reader

Summary: The day Ron tells you he loves you.

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: loss of a home, Fred is alive, mild angst, fluff, requited love, kissing

A/N: This fic is inspired by Pretty Boy by The Neighbourhood!

The last traces of summer had rapidly faded as the season changed to autumn, the once warm weather now chilled and brisk. It had been a whirlwind of a year thus far, one that was exceedingly more undesirable than most with the war having transpired. It brought with it a myriad of losses and misfortune for all that had been involved to fight against the Dark Lord.

The most noticeable loss for the Weasley family was the destruction of their family home. It was near ash and ruins but a few months ago, devastating and left in tatters as it no longer stood tall lopsidedly wonderful. While it was life altering and an act of complete and utter cruelty, they remained grateful that each and every member of their tight knit family remained alive and well. That’s what always mattered most to them, what will always matter.

Now that fall has rolled around after three months of hard work and effort put in from you and the beloved family, the Burrow was officially rebuilt. It didn’t house the same memories as it once had, it couldn’t have, but it stood tall and beautifully imperfect once more. It was a home that could only possibly be held up by magic otherwise it just might topple over with the number of floors it had. The pots and pans had scrubbed themselves once more, the chimney puffed out smoke yet again, the home was now bustling with a familiar boisterous energy once again in a way only they could manage to create.

Spending that time with them was time you were grateful to have, though you found yourself to be with Ron more so than anyone else. No matter what the instance may have been, you always seem to seek each other out as if it were a subconscious act. It was a wordless fact seemingly known to just about everyone but the very two people who’d been doing it, but that didn’t come as a surprise to anyone at all.

It’d been three years in the making of watching their lovestruck brother and equally lovestruck best friend pine for each other, of watching you both be so oblivious it was almost painful. Three years of catching him gaze at you with the softest of smiles when you weren’t looking, one so adoring Molly nearly cries every time, and of you doing just the same when his attentions were focused elsewhere. Three years of watching you two brush hands when you walk side by side followed by the promise of blushing cheeks when you realized the electrifying encounter. It had been frustrating years in the making of watching two people they loved so dearly be so blissfully unaware of just how in love they truly were with each other.

They were ready to take matters into their own hands and make it known themselves.

Currently, Mrs. Weasley has assigned both you and Ron the task of stopping by the bakery in town. She’d wanted an assortment of pastries as a part of a way to celebrate the finishing of their new home. She had made more than enough of her own in her newly remodeled kitchen of course, but she had her mind set on blueberry muffins and chocolate chip cookies made from none other than Hazel’s Bakery.

She most certainly did not send the two of you in particular in an effort to get you to spend some alone time. No, definitely not.

“Are you warm enough?” Ron asks as you leave through the front door, stepping out into the brisk weather.

You nod, cheeks staining a soft pink at the gentle caring he had for you, the question falling from his lips like it’d been second nature. Caring for you, being protective of you, it was second nature by that point. He doesn’t believe he could help it even if he tried, but he doesn’t want to. Despite the fluttering of your heart you couldn’t help your teasing smile. “Yes. But I suppose it’d be far warmer if we drove there.”

He caught onto your teasing and rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth nonetheless. “Are you ever going to stop teasing me for that, Y/n/n?”

You pretend to give his question some serious thought, puckering your lips as you squint your gaze and tap your finger against your cheek. His laughter broke you from your actions. “No, I don’t think I will, Ronnie.”

Your own laughter was immediate at the scrunch of his nose upon hearing the nickname he loathed so much, more so at the playful narrowing of his blue stare. Maybe he didn’t hate it when it fell from your lips. However, you quickly appeased his obvious displeasure of the name as you brushed the pad of your thumb over his chin, his blushing smile soon to return as he looked at his feet to steady his racing heart. He knew his cheeks had to have matched the leaves on the trees by now. They always had been when in your presence.

You shook your head with a smile as you focused your attention on anywhere but him to avoid worsening the heat in your cheeks. Rather, you focused on the graying of the sky and the way the grass rippled beneath the wind. You listened to the leaves crunching under both your footfalls and the sound they made as the breeze washed over them. For lack of a better word, this time of year had been the most magical, and it seemed as though Ron fit right in with the hues of his hair and equally his attire. Equally his flushed cheeks.

A single wildflower had caught your stare, standing tall amongst the fading green grass. You slowed your stride to bend down and pluck it from the ground, turning to look at Ron who’d now stood paces from you with a curious brow raised.

“What is it?”

You held up the yellow flower, the stem pinched between your fingers as you beamed. In a matter of seconds you ran to him the short distance he was from you, his smile now apparent.

“What are you doing?” He asks with a laugh, one to stave off the way his breath hitched as you leaned up to tuck it within the red hair just above his ear.

It appeared golden amongst the rosy ginger shade and he smiled down at you fondly for a brief moment before shaking his head, not making a move to take it out. You smiled up at him, biting the inside of your cheek to hide just how giddy he’d made you feel in that very moment. You suppose there wasn’t even a reason to feel as such, but that hadn’t mattered; the feeling occurred whenever it so pleased, and it was more often than not it seemed.

You reached the end of the long driveway and took his hand without a second thought, sharing a smile before apparating from the property.

In mere dizzying seconds you had appeared in the ever familiar and unfrequented alleyway, taking a moment to adjust before stepping into foot traffic along with everyone else in the town. It wasn’t as busy as some days it could be, but regardless it was always a fun trip to walk about, it was cozy.

Almost in the very same moment did the two of you realize you’d still been holding hands, releasing the other as you looked your separate ways for just a second. He’d wanted to reach out and hold it once more, to interlock his fingers with yours. He hadn’t really wanted to let go. You risked a glance and he risked his and it wasn’t hard to tell when Ron Weasley has been fighting a smile. Perhaps what was more obvious was the little yellow flower that somehow still remained in his hair. You decided then and there not to mention it.

The denim of your jacket proved to be far less warm than you had thought it to be, or maybe it’d just gotten colder. Either way, as you walked down that sidewalk, you weren’t ready to let Ron know he’d been right in telling you to wear something heavier before you left the house. He always seemed to be right about those kinds of things.

Ron grabbed your wrist to keep you from walking past the bakery, his grin teasing as he held open the green painted door. You were far too distracted by him for your own good.

The smell of coffee and sweets had been instant upon entering, a little bell overhead signaling your entrance into the small yet cozy shop. The showcase had been filled with fresh pastries and baked goods, the line not yet as lengthy it surely would be now that Hazel had switched the sign to ‘open’.

The kind older woman had greeted you as warmly as she did each and every time she’d seen you, making a point to pinch Ron’s cheeks much like his own mother had.

“Hazel! We’ve talked about this,” Ron whines, rubbing his newly reddened cheeks.

“Oh hush, my dear boy,” she says, turning to you. “How do you put up with him?”

You laugh at that, shrugging your shoulders. “I must admit, it is but a wonder indeed, Hazel.”

You look to Ron who’d furrowed his brows at you, lips pursed in faux offense as you smile beamingly up at him. One that dissolved any look to displeasure. One that caused the woman behind the counter to nearly gush about what a wonderful couple you’d be, something that was also very much like his mother.

You placed your order and asked for extra, knowing if you hadn’t that surely Ron would have eaten far too many for Molly not to notice. Though you knew for a fact she’d be able to tell either way. She talked you into staying for just a little bit longer, the promise of hot cocoa far too enticing to turn down as you still felt the shivering effects of the chilly fall weather.

—

“You really thought I’d eat three muffins?” Ron scoffs, mouth full as a few crumbs fall past his lips.

You roll your eyes and shake your head as you walk down the cracked sidewalk, the steaming paper bag clutched in your hand. “You’ve eaten two already.”

“Did I?” He asks, brows furrowed as he halts momentarily to recall it. The genuine shock and confusion painted on his expression had you laughing as you grabbed his hand, tugging him along the walkway before any more passers by all but run into you with looks of annoyance.

“Yes, you did,” you giggle, releasing his hand to link your arm with his once more.

“Well, they’re really good,” he defends as you continue walking. “Really good.”

You look up at him then, a soft smile on your lips as you do so. His cheeks were stained a soft pink from the chilly weather, accentuating the freckles dancing across them and the very bridge of his nose. At the curve of his smile and the dimples that formed when he did just that. Or perhaps it was the near unruly ginger hair that dipped over his forehead and covered his ears; he had yet to get a haircut much to his mother’s dismay. He was starting to resemble his fourth year self, a hair length he’d claimed he hated so very much but you were beginning to think otherwise.

“Are you staring?” He asks a short while later, a more than knowing grin on his lips that sent your stomach into a fit of butterflies and knots.

“You’ve got food on your face, how could I not?” You counter, though the scarlet in your cheeks is far too obvious. It was true, there were crumbs in the corner of his mouth that needed to be swept away, but you were not ready in the slightest to admit your admiring. “Plus you’ve still got that flower in your hair.”

His hand is quick to fly up and pluck it out, looking at the delicate little thing as his cheeks burned once more. So that was what Hazel was talking about. He smiles then with a soft laugh, stopping your stride once more to tuck it behind your ear.

“There, looks much better on you,” he mumbles, smile soft and adoring, one that lingered long after he’d looked away.

“I beg to differ.”

You’d noticed just how gloomy the sky had been, clouds puffy and gray as the breeze intensified just the slightest bit. It wasn’t something you minded, for it was rather scenic amongst the rapidly dwindling buildings the closer you got to the Burrow. You both had decided a walk back would be best given the bag of sweets you now have, not to mention the hot chocolates you each had provided just enough warmth for you to do so.

A sigh left your lips, one of contentment as you walked back in a comfortable silence and you rest your head on his shoulder. Your arm still hooked with his as he slowed his pace for you to keep up with him, and he’d since taken the bag from your hand so you wouldn’t have to carry it. It was the little things that you noticed that others might not; the little things that meant the most to you, that made your heart flutter. Like the way he will always wait for you when something catches your eye in a shop, not an ounce of impatience in him like he may have had with his siblings. Or how he’d save a plate of breakfast for you when you stay at his home because you’d woken up later than his brothers. It left your heart full.

He hadn’t been aware that you’d noticed those kinds of things; he finds he isn’t even aware of it sometimes. Living you had become second nature at this point, it was expressed in nearly everything he did. You were woven into his very heart and hadn’t even known as such. He doesn’t know how he made it quite this far without going absolutely mad, without his heart bursting in his chest every time you look at him the way you do. Every time you smile at him the way you do. It was his hopes that you’d reserved those kinds of looks, those kinds of smiles for just him. It had been his hope that somehow, someway, you had felt the same way.

He knew with all the certainty in the world that he needed to tell you. He doesn’t think he can go another day without telling you as such. He knows he can’t; he loved you from afar for nearly four years. If you don’t feel the same, if it’s all over after his confession, he can take this moment with him. Of your head on his shoulder, of the way you held his hand that day, of the way you looked at him. It needed to be spoken no matter how much it made his hands shake. He almost lost you in that war and he decided he couldn’t risk not telling you.

You reached the familiar stretch of trees lining the vacant road, the breeze having intensified more noticeably. The walk had been quiet save for the chirping of the birds and the crinkle if the bag Ron held, or the crunch of leaves and gravel under your feet. You couldn’t have asked for a better way to spend your afternoon, especially with the knowledge of the warm meal Molly had been preparing for dinner that night. The whole Weasley family would be there, Harry would be there, Hermione would be there. It was plans that made your stomach flip with excitement.

It wasn’t until then, at the very opening of the near dauntingly long dirt driveway that the rain had started to drizzle steadily. You suppose you expected it at that point, with the puffy gray clouds that rapidly blew over any and all sunlight, it had become more than evident that that would be the case.

You gasped upon the weathers sudden change in plans regardless, the icy downpour taking you by surprise. A jovial laugh soon sounded from your lips as you threw your hands up, looking around as it came down and rolled off the tri-colored leaves. They too fluttered down in a flurry of reds and oranges, and you were certain you’d never seen something quite so beautiful, quite so enchanting.

Spotting a nearby shelter beneath the branches of one of the large trees, you grabbed Ron’s hand, ready to pull him along with you though you quickly noticed he hasn’t budged any more than just a few steps. You turned to him then, rather confused in that moment and the more you stood exposed to the sudden storm the less useful it became to seek shelter from it. None of it seemed to matter as he stood there and gazed at you, ginger hair darkened a few shades as it stuck to his forehead and flushed cheeks. The smile on his face was quite possibly the softest you’d ever seen it be, and it held something different, remarkably different and you couldn’t put your finger on what it was. Though it seemed to be far too much as he looked away from you momentarily as if to gather himself, a soft laugh leaving his lips.

Everything felt that much more intense in that moment, and he felt as though his breath was caught in his throat as he stood before you. You were confused, that much was clear. You were still holding his hand in yours, still smiling at him with that smile. That had also been very clear. You were doused in the downpour and his heart beat wildly with each passing second, and if he opened and closed his mouth one more time he felt as though he just might look like an absolute fool.

“What are you doing?” You asked, taking a step closer as you look at him quizzically, “We’re just about soaked and you hate the rain—”

“I love you.”

The three words were spoken then, almost unheard against the heavy rain. They were soft and they were true, how could you not have heard them? Yet even though they clearly were, very clearly, it still hadn’t quite registered to you just exactly what he had just said. You couldn’t believe what you had heard.

“What?” You ask, a soft laugh leaving your lips. Not one of mocking, more of giddy surprise.

“I said I love you,” He repeats louder as he swallowed thickly, accompanied by a nervous laugh of his own as he wipes the wet strands of his hair out of his eyes.

The more time that had gone by, no matter how fleeting it made have been, the butterflies in his stomach were relentless. By this point the rain was of no importance, trying to stay dry was of no importance anymore. What was important was the way you grasped his flannel jacket and leaned on your toes, and the way you pressed your lips on his. Or the way you smiled against his lips as he pulled you close to him, as close as possible, dropping the soaked paper bag of pastries to the ground in favor of settling his hand on your cheek and tangling his fingertips in your hair.

You couldn’t help the quiet giggle that was threatening to break your moment; maybe it was the sheer loving intensity of it, or the fact that this was real and this was happening. But the way he kissed you, the way your heart beat so loudly you thought he could hear it, that’s what had kept you in that very real moment.

When you parted you hadn’t strayed more than a few inches as you looked up at him, beamed, his smile equally so as the two of you laughed softly. It was one of giddy love, of an unexpected moment of bliss. The feeling that the person you loved so wholly loved you back just as much. It was that kind of laugh.

“I love you,” you say, laughing once more as your foreheads touched in the fond moment. The tip of his nose had been flushed from the cold nipping at his skin, his smile brilliant and adoring and entirely telling of his love. “I love you.”

You kiss him again, soft and quick as you grabbed his hand before you spoke up after a short while to relish in your moment. “We’d better go inside!”

“Yeah,” he laughs, nodding in agreement even if he was perfectly content to stay there and kiss you. “I think we better.”

You pulled him along the muddy path as he laughed behind you at your antics. The two of you were breathless and soaked and still in a daze from the kiss you’d just shared mere moments ago as you rushed through the door. The look on Molly’s face changed from startled to quizzical as she took note of the sheer nothingness in either of your hands, her lips pursing and her arms crossing.

“Just where are the muffins? And the cookies?”

Ron looks to you with a smile and you the same, laughing softly amongst yourselves at the realization of just where they had been. The sight of your kiss swollen lips and flushed cheeks was telling enough of the reasoning such a blunder occurred. Not to mention the way the tips of his fingers still grasped yours. She knew. “We must’ve forgotten.”

He hadn’t broken his gaze from you quite yet as he spoke, far too lovestruck to do so. Far too enamored.

—

Tags: @anchoeritic @ch0colatefr0gs @vogueweasley @amourtentiaa @hahee154hq @snitches-at-dawn @dracosathenaeum @awritingtree @lupinsclassroom @harrysweasleys @theweasleysredhair @writeroutoftime

[ivyyreid]

greek tragedy

description: breakups are hard. but you usually don't completely change who you are and start killing, right?

category: angst

tw: mentions of self harm, eating disorders, breakups, knives, mentions of stab wounds, death, suicide, blood, men, guns, self-loathing, one-sided love.

masterlist

sometimes, i don't know what haunts me more.. the memories of you... or the happy person i used to be.

--

two years and two months ago.

spencer came into the bullpen with a gleam in his eye. a shy kind of happiness. the kind that makes you blush, and makes you embarrassed. the kind that makes people feel like kids again.

vivian came in with the same smile. the same red on her cheeks, the same glint in her eyes.

they both felt like kids again. happy, and in love.

they held hands under the table in the conference room. everyone noticed. and everyone smiled a bit more, knowing that two happy people are now making each other happier.

the night before, vivian and spencer had kissed in the rain under the stars. after an eternity of falling for each other, they finally gave in.

when they came in the next day, vivian's blonde hair seemed a little more golden, her eyes a little more warm. spencer's face seemed softer, and relaxed.

they played in the park, and watched nineties movies, and ate thai on the roof while watching the stars. all with the biggest goofiest smiles on their faces.

because you're nothing if not crazy when you're in love.

two months ago

blonde hair stained brown.

pink lips turned red.

a realtionship gone sour.

they broke up last week. they stood in the rain once again. but this time the rain didn't bring hope, and a new start. this time the rain fell, tainting the blue sky gray.

the girls heart shattered onto the pavement. pieces on the sidewalk, pieces in the grass. pieces being washed away by the rain.

no one knows what they said to each other, how it ended.

all they know is that the cuts on vivian's wrist are fresh, and that the numbers on her scale have rapidly declined.

she came into work on monday, her golden blonde hair painted dark brown, her young pink lips stained blood red. everyone stared, except spencer. she stared at no-one, but spencer.

she was there for a day after the breakup. maybe two. long enough to know that someone else had already brought a gleam into spencer's eyes. that someone else was already making him happy.

no one saw her after that. she left quickly and quietly. one day, her desk was personalized and filled with framed pictures, the next it was empty and bare. you could say that her desk matched her heart.

now, she lies on the floor of her bathroom. head pounding, rivers of red seeping onto the tiled floor.

one month ago.

seven men stabbed twice in the heart, all dead, over the course of two weeks. all left with red carnations.

the bau accepts the invitation to take on the case.

vivian watches the news coverage announcing the bureaus involvement, a smirk dancing on her face as she applies a new coat of lipstick.

one week ago, at the bar.

the bar is full of bodies. bodies against bodies. dancing, sweating, living.

the tall brunette, with the red lipstick and cold eyes slips off her coat, revealing the small black dress underneath. the heartless predator.

a drunk mans eyes follow the woman's every move. analyzing her every curve, watching the way her lips part. he sets down his glass and walks over. the unsuspecting prey.

he makes his way through the crowd, licking his lips as he nears vivian. her blonde hair, now turned brown, and her blood red lips enchant him.

her finger plays with her straw, spinning it around in her drink as she makes eye contact with him. she tilts her head slyly, and smiles a bit. egging him on.

"jonathan," he says, standing over her.

"cleo," she responds, flipping her dark hair over her exposed shoulder. she stands up, hand on his tie, and leans forward to whisper seductively in his ear:

"let's get out of here, jonathan."

three days ago, at the bau.

"we have a new body," hotch announces as he walks into the room. he pins a few pictures to the board. the first, an image of a smiling man. dark brown hair, dark eyes, and a square jaw. the next few are the body. dumped carelessly in an alleyway. two stabs to the heart, and red carnations scattered onto the body.

"woah," emily says, concern lacing her voice. "that makes fourteen bodies now."

"she's devolving," morgan adds. "speeding up the kills. her last kill was only one day ago, she's getting more dangerous. but she's also more likely to slip up."

the team nods to this, each thinking their own separate thoughts. eventually, they will all come to the same conclusion. the same suspect. but they won't share their ideas until it's too late.

the teams profile:

the unsub is female.

she recently suffered heartbreak, and has a newfound prejudice against men.

she changes her appearance each time. wigs, makeup, etc.

she stabs each victim twice in the heart, which must mean something.

she leaves red carnations at each scene, which means "alas for my poor heart, my heart aches," in some cultures.

she is highly intelligent, driven, but also depressed and self-loathing.

she is likely to have self-inflicted wounds, and possibly try and kill herself.

one day ago, vivian's apartment.

vivian stares in the mirror, and the woman in the mirror stares back at her.

a blonde wig is tossed carelessly on the floor, and boxes of colored contacts join it.

these objects are supposed to be able to change who you are on the outside, but to vivian, they're crushing her even more on the inside.

she doesn't recognize the woman in the mirror. the dark straight hair, red lips, and hollow eyes. the woman in the tight dress and heels.

she looks down, trying to hold back the tears that threaten to spill over her face. this isn't the girl that spencer loved. she isn't the girl that spencer loved anymore.

and then she looks back up, and her heart stops. because there she is.

the girl in the mirror has long, wavy blonde hair and sparkling green eyes. her eyes are full of life, not hollow and lifeless. her lips are pink, her cheeks flushed, her face innocent. her sundress hangs perfectly around her frame, and underneath her bright converse her socks mismatch.

the girl that spencer loved. the girl vivian stopped being when spencer stopped loving here.

the image takes vivian's breath away for a second, and a tear slips down her face, but she doesn't stop staring at the reflection, hoping that if she stares hard enough the girl will die and leave vivian alone.

her stare turns into a smirk. smirking at the innocent, dumb, oblivious girl. laughing silently at her.

the girl was oblivious to the heartbreak that awaited her. the emptiness that would creep into her soul.

the girl that was so blindly in love with the man that didn't care for her, even though he acted like he did.

maybe she was still in love with him. just a bit. even after he broke her heart, she still loved him. but she also hated him.

fuck spencer.

a couple of hours ago, bau.

vivian's face is front and center on the tv. her blonde hair, green eyes, and large smile.

the team sits around the table, shocked at the conclusion they came to.

vivian, their ex-coworker who always seemed so perfect and happy, is the unsub? vivian killed fifteen men?

they may want to deny it, but they all know it makes sense.

she broke up with spencer and completely fell apart. she quit her job. spencer says she was angry and sad and completely broken, hence the hate towards men. and the killings started around the time her and spencer broke up. even the number of stabs on each body makes sense. two stabs for two years her and spencer were together.

they're all shocked, but most can still talk, and move, and discuss. spencer is just frozen.

how could vivian have killed someone?

forty-five minutes ago, vivian's apartment.

spencer looks around the apartment, flashlight held and gun drawn.

when he used to come over, the apartment was homey and life like. plants would hang from the ceilings, and would sit on shelves. books were scattered on tables, and the floor to ceiling bookshelf would be disorganized. she used to have pictures of her and the team, and of spencer everywhere. but now it's bare, and empty. if spencer knew any better he would think no one lived there at all.

the team does a quick search, clearing all the rooms before gathering again in the living room.

"she's obviously not here, but she knows that we know it's her. she's been wanting us to know." derek says, and glances at spencer. "spencer, is there anywhere she liked to go, anywhere close?" he asks, and spencer furrows his brow.

"the roof! she liked to watch the sky!" he says suddenly, and hotch nods. the team climbs up the flights of stairs to get to the roof, which at first glance appears to be empty, until spencer notices a woman sitting against the chimney.

"spencer no way, she's armed man," derek says as spencer moves forward, but spencer tells him it's ok. he knows her. she has no intention of hurting him.

vivian stares at him, a tears falling down her face. spencer sits down next to her, eyes widening when he notices the knife in her hands. pointed at her own heart.

"vivian..." he says cautiously, taking in her died hair and red lips, "this isn't you. put the knife down." at this, vivian collapses into a fit of sobs, trailing mascara down her cheeks.

"i'm so sorry spencer," her voice is shaky and she's crying, but she keeps the knife pointed upwards towards her heart.

"please vivian just put the knife down," spencer whispers, his voice cracking a bit.

"i can't spencer, i have to do this," she sobs. "i killed....i killed so many people and i can't stop myself and i still love you but i hate you and you broke my heart but i have to do this spencer."

the boys eyes are sad, because deep down he knows he can't stop her from doing this. but he'll still try,

"please vivian, i-i love you," he pleads, but vivian just shakes her head, and laughs through her tears.

"no you don't spencer," she whispers, smiling a bit. "but it's ok. you will never have to hurt the way you know that i do," she says, and spencer knows whats coming. her grip on the knife tightens, and in a flash she jams it into her heart, gasping a bit as it deepens.

"no!" spencer yells, as she slumps and collapses. blood trickles from her lips, and her tears spill from her eyes. but still, she smiles. because it's finally over.

her final breath isn't sad, it's relieved. because she doesn't have to suffer anymore. the sadness, pain, and anger is finally gone.

spencer is tearless. her death was shocking, sad, but it was truthful. maybe she deserved it, even wanted it, but spencer knew she was going somewhere where she was happier.

happier without him.

as spencer stares at her body, laid out on the concrete, he sees the girl he loved. the blonde hair, sea green eyes, and the innocent face.

innocence, purity.

and all he can think about as she's wheeled into the ambulance, covered by the blanket is who she used to be. who she really is.

the beautiful, happy girl.

maybe one day, in another life she'll find true love.

who knows?

all anyone knows is that the day that her heart poured a red river onto the concrete, she started over. she began anew.

and maybe that was better for everyone.

[dingoat]

Inkstained

She found him in the corner of the sonic shower, ears flat and tail puffed out, trembling under the blasting vibrations, and when he noticed her standing there he turned his head away and tucked himself even tighter against the walls. He didn’t want to be seen.

Filmy blackness seeped across the tiles, under his paws, coaxed out of his coat by the sonics at their highest frequency. She knew it was just some of her ink; perfectly harmless, an accidental spill no doubt. She was hardly upset about it, if that was what had him so on edge. But the colour of his coat hid the full extent of the mess, and watching it slowly drain away from him was almost like watching Blakk himself unravel, pooling into liquid darkness on the cold, slick floor.

“It’s okay,” she tried to tell him, met only with his hunched shoulders and more shivering. She had no idea why he’d gotten in amongst her art supplies, what he might have been looking for, but as far as she’d been able to tell from the mess in the room, nothing she’d actually been working on had been a casualty of whatever minor disaster had left ink and shredded paper all over the floor and an incriminating trail of inky paw prints leading directly to the ‘fresher. But she wasn’t mad, not in the least, and it upset her to see him shuddering so, like he was ashamed or afraid of her reaction. “Everything will clean up eventually, and I mean, I don’t even know if I want to wipe those prints off the woodwork. You’ve probably got no idea how cute they look.”

But his ears burned with shame and his heart felt like a stone, because even if he wanted to, even if he had words to describe how lost and cold and miserable and useless he felt, he had no voice to share them with. How was he supposed to explain that he’d just hoped to do something nice for her… that he’d teased out some loose sheets of paper from amongst her stack of sketchbooks, that with his teeth and paws he’d unstoppered an ink bottle with painstaking care, that he’d tried dragging a brush across the page to make her something, anything, just to let her know…

What? What had he even been trying to do? Had he wanted to write, had he wanted, in some fit of utter foolishness, to try and draw something for her? But it hadn’t mattered in the end, because the brush didn’t obey, his paws were clumsy, and every stroke he managed to put down was crude and rough and had all the elegance of a two-year-old’s fingerpainting. How was he supposed to explain to her that he’d wanted to do something nice, and in his agitation at his own failure he’d tipped the ink bottle, and something about the utter futility of his attempts to stop the darkness spreading across her art room floor made him snap and tear his worthless attempts to shreds, because destroying things was all he’d ever been taught to do.

And here she was, talking to him softly and sweetly, after he’d ruined her things like he’d ruined her life, as though he wasn’t leaking shadowy stains all over her gentle little home.

“Please, Blakk,” she said, crouched in the sonic’s doorway with one soft, pale hand offered toward him. “It doesn’t matter! It wouldn’t matter if you’d spilled everything I own, I’m not… these things… they’re just not worth being upset about. After everything we’ve been through, you think I’m going to be bothered by a little ink on the floor?”

How could he tell her that the spiralling blackness beneath his paws was nothing if not a symbol of his own slowly dissolving sense of self? Like his pitiful brush strokes, he was a rough and terrible thing. No light, no beauty. Just cold emptiness, just destruction, just death.

A little choking snarl of frustration rent itself from Blakk’s fox muzzle, and he spun about under the sonic stream, casting loose drops of ink about in a misted spray. He reared up and set his paws against one of the walls, dragging his ink stained pads to and fro to form letters as crude as the sentiment they expressed.

I A M

EMp T Y

The words broke her heart. They didn’t explain the mess he’d gotten into, but they told her more than she needed to know about his miserable state. They reminded her, once again, of just how helpless and lost he must be feeling… and of how utterly she’d failed at being able to do anything to help him.

“No, no, don’t say that, don’t think that,” Ahuska said, already feeling her eyes prickle over. Don’t say it, even though it’s true. Even though I told you myself that some part of you was missing.

She reached toward him and he twisted away, loathe to taint her gentle hands with the never-ending darkness spilling from his coat.

D E AD

He added to the wall, his movements all sharp and furious, all misery and frustration. He spun about on the floor, collecting fresh ink onto his paws, steeping himself back in the mess he’d tried to wash away before she could see, before she could know.

“Stop it, stop it please, don’t! That’s not right, it’s not right,” Ahuska couldn’t bear to see it, and yet she knew she deserved to see it too, for all the good she’d done him. She knew he’d given up everything for her sake. More than he even realised he had to give. And how must that feel for him, every day, knowing that some shining part of his heart was gone?

He thrashed about, undoing every bit of the sonic’s work, smearing ink about as fast as it was pressed out of his fur. True, true, everything he tried to tell her was true. His insides were a void, cold empty nothing, the only fitting insides for something as pointless as he.

“Stop!” She cried again, and this time she reached out with intent, grabbing hold of him, her hands swift and sure even though he wriggled and twisted and gnashed his teeth. She wasn’t afraid of his bite, she wasn’t afraid of being smeared with ink, and she’d dealt with far more wild and difficult creatures in the past.

And he didn’t truly want to hurt her.

In the magic of her strong but soothing grip, Blakk managed to calm back into quiet trembling. She held him tight, not giving a second thought to the dark stains he left on her clothes and in her fur, smudges like oily smoke against a pastel sunrise. She stroked over his head, encouraged him to tuck under her chin, she curled his tail up and around his shivering little body. “You have a soul. I don’t care if you don’t believe me or if you’ve forgotten everything, you have a soul, you have a beautiful soul and I know it because I’ve seen it. I’ve held it and loved it-” her tone hitched just slightly there, with a flutter of fear at admitting as much out loud. “I know you, I know the softest and kindest part of you, and I will never, ever, ever rest until we get all the pieces of you back together. I promise. I promise you won’t be stuck like this forever, you won’t have to feel like this forever.”

She held him tight, crouching under the sonic blast as black ink was slowly teased away from the pair of them.

He still wasn’t sure he was prepared to believe anything she had to say. Hope was too painful.

But he allowed himself a small sigh. He might be nothing, but the rhythm of her pulse where his nose rested against her neck was real, her hands wrapped around him were real, she was real, and that was enough.

[justananxiousauthor]

DestructiveDeath Oneshot

Soooooo, I made this a few months ago.... and never posted it... then shared with my friend... now I gotta post it.... soooo here ya go. @nozapuns Here ya go....

I found myself trembling as Reaper disappeared, my voice still caught in my throat, my throat dry. He didn’t understand, he didn’t understand a thing I’d been through. I’d watched everyone I loved die by the hands of some kid. No, not some kid, Chara. The name made me grit my teeth, I hated that small child with every fiber in my being, and every drop of magic in my soul. They’d taken everything I cared about, everything but Reaper, I guess I took them away from myself. He didn’t understand how much I loathed myself for what had happened, and it wasn’t like I could talk to anyone else in my plain white hell. I’d spend days, months, years maybe, waiting for him to return so we could spend a short time together before he vanished again. I was done living like this, I’d rather return to my timeline and be dusted than spend another moment here, and reaper hated that. I sat on the ground in my lonely silence as time passed by. He’d say he’d be back soon, but here?

Soon could be never.

And never could be soon.

Time passed…….

I don’t even know how long

I could only judge by the exhaustion I felt, so I counted the days by my sleep. 

10 cycles passed and I was still alone.

20 passed and nothing…..

30

40

50…

100… 

Invisible aches filled me, and I don’t even know what happened next. Anger filled me, rage that I couldn’t even understand. I just didn’t understand…..

150…

200…

300…

500…….

5,000………………….

Everything blurred together, the loneliness crushing. Tears burned my skull like fire branding my bones. Then something changed, a new power coursed through my soul as the tears dried to once porcelain white face of mine leaving streaks of light blue. I gasped as I felt the void pulling at my body, glitching it even more than the day I had come here. What was once white turned black, my sockets red eyes yellow, and fingers red and yellow. What was happening?!

I woke up somewhere new, or maybe it was the same place as before, but it felt…..

Different.

I could feel the energy that was hidden in the white space, and it was almost like I could... 

Open it. 

Out stretching my hand I took in a sharp breath, a window opening for me to look out into the world.

Not a window, a door for me to finally escape my endless prison.

Freedom….

5,001…...

Day 11,397 without Reaper.

A day well done as the Destroyer of AU’s, a title I held dear, bringing all other abominations to their knees. I enjoyed my work, which made it easy to keep others from suffering like how I did. However, I found it impossible to destroy a classic timeline, something I was from, maybe it just pained me too much to see my brother cry… but if a single Sans attempted to become Geno and stray from their code, they would be annihilated. I found myself in a void, not one of my own, one created by a new Geno. The new code felt sickly to me, this idiot had no idea what he was doing, but I could fix that. By the end of the fight, if you could even call it that, his dust laid at my feet, a hollow pain echoing in my soul, but before I could destroy the timeline….

A voice from the past came echoing back.

“Geno, I’m here to visit!” Reaper’s voice echoed through the void. My body stiffened at the sound, so this is what he had been doing? Got in a fight with me so he just found a replacement? A new geno, someone with the same face, personality, a clean slate…

I couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What- Error!” Reaper growled, and by the time I turned to see him, he had his scythe ready to fight. So quick to jump to attack the one he claimed to love, not that I was that person anymore, Geno died a long long time ago.

“Long time no see Reaper,” I said, I doubt he remembered, I probably wasn’t even the first Geno he played with. I pressed my fingers to my face for a moment before pulling the brightly colored yarn away from my blackened cheekbones, “Do you wanna play too?” I asked, the pain numbing.

“You killed him,” He began staring at the dust that greyed my feet. He charged, probably mad I broke his new toy, so I dodged.

“What? Miss him already? Oh please Reaper, I know this isn’t the first Geno you’ve played with. Just another toy broken in your miserable toy box right?” 

“You know NOTHING!!” He yelled while swinging his scythe at me, his rage would be his downfall in this fight. 

I was right, the fight ended quickly as Reaper made a mistake and ended up caught in my lines, hands tangled above his head.

“I know nothing?” I asked leaning in, holding the ends of the yarn that tangled him up oh so beautifully. “Is that true? Do I really know nothing? I mean you’ve been Geno hopping for as long as I can remember, their sad faces crying out for you, yet you never come. You never save them, you never saved him.”

“Him?” He asked, he looked so deliciously defeated, like I had destroyed something he actually cared for.

“Geno? All of them, everyone I have ever destroyed.” 

“Did you?” He began.

“Of course I did, they all became dust at my feet. Which is really a shame, dust is so hard to wash out.” 

“Did you kill a Geno, 11,000 days ago?” He asked, wow, color me impressed, he remembered.

“What’s so important about that Geno in particular? He’s just another abomination snuffed out.” 

“He was my Geno, now tell me, did you kill him, 11,000 days ago?” He asked again, his Geno? Me? He was lying, trying to get under my skin. If I had any.

“Yes, I killed Geno, and I watched him scream, I watched him slowly become insane, from loneliness, from guilt, from pain. 11,000 days alone, and I watched, and then, when I became bored with watching his insanity, I killed him.” I said expressionlessly. Reaper’s eyes went dark. “I mean, did you really care about him, you left him alone for so long!” I couldn’t help but laugh.

“I cared,” He whispered.

“Excuse me?” I said dryly.

“I cared more than I have ever cared about anyone.” Reaper continued.

“You cared about some random Geno that you ran away from?” I couldn’t help but ask as I leaned forwards to look into his deep dead eyes. “You left him alone, to go insane.” I said simply, “you two get in a fight over something that was killing him inside and you left him.” 

“I didn’t mean to!” Reaper snapped looking up at me, “I couldn’t get back in! I couldn’t open a portal or anything to his void! I tried to go back to apologize but I couldn’t!” He said now tears began to fall.

“You tried?” I said dryly, “you tried?” I began to laugh, “well obviously Reaper, you didn’t try hard enough!” Now I was yelling, the same painful rage as the day I left filled me. “You left me there alone to suffer for years on end! 15 years of isolation 15 YEARS of being alone and you…. YOU…!” I yanked on the yarn to pull him upright into, what looked like, a rather uncomfortable position. “You tried,” I growled, my anger, my frustration….

“You?” The light returned to his eye as he looked at me.

“Me?” I asked, “What about me? You left Geno alone!” I snapped.

“No, you said I left you alone, Error…” he paused.

“Hah! No, I didn’t,” The anger was quickly replaced with stomach-turning anxiety. 

“Error where did you come from?” Reaper asked while looking my body over. “How were you made?” I wanted to hide, remove his wandering eye lights from me.

“That’s a little personal don’t you think?” I asked, feeling sick.

“You’re the one that started monologuing and slipped up. Now tell me, Error, where did you come from.” The look he gave me made me feel like I hadn’t felt in over 30 years. I grabbed my chest with my free hand and looked down. 

“It really isn’t any of your business,” I stated.

“I really think it is Geno,” his words made the yarn slip from my hands, releasing him and dropping the other skeleton to the ground. It took him a moment to recover but he stood. “Now, tell me what happened.” He could see right through me, see right through the lies, through this character I had made.

“Don’t call me that,” I said simply, arms dropping to my sides.

“Alright, Error,” He got up and came to me, hands sliding down my arms before taking my hands in his. His touch, though it did make me flinch, it also made me feel like that love-struck puppy I once was. It wasn’t as scary. “Tell me what happened.” I found myself unable to stop once I started, telling him my new life story, the pain, the tears, everything. Damp dark yarn ran down from his empty socks, sticking to my cheeks as he listened to me, one hand gently brushing over my cheekbone as he hushed me, I pushed him back.

“Reaper,” I said my voice cracking from the pain, “I can’t.” my voice broke my own tears falling. “I couldn’t do it anymore,” he hushed me more silently as he pulled me into his arms, one hand cradling the back of my head, the other rubbing circles into my shoulder. I could more glitches coat me but… he was okay... “The loneliness was crushing.”

“It's okay, I am so sorry I left you like that, I tried to go back and apologize, I promise, I’ll be right next to you the whole way, I promise I won’t leave you again,” I swore into my ear. 

“But Reaper,” I started with voice trembling, “What am I going to do?” I asked, “I’m no longer the person you love.” 

“Error no,” He said pulling back and resting a hand on my cheek, “No no my love, it doesn’t matter who you are, Sans, Geno, Error, I don’t care. I know who I love, and that’s you.” His words made me melt into him, returning into his arms as the tears fell heavier. I just wanted to stay there, in his grip as he protected me from the pain I had felt for all these years without him. He hushed me as I sobbed, the crushing loneliness finally lifting off my shoulders as I just melted into the man I loved’s arms. His hands gently ran over me as he tried to comfort me, trying to hide his own tears. “I am so sorry my love, I love you more than the worlds themselves.” 

Day 1 with Reaper again.

[lambourngb]

“It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower”

First line tag

A million years ago, an anon sent me this ask for the first line meme. I woke up possessed and wrote “stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery” in 10 days.  This story is complete, 23,000 words. I put the first two chapters up on AO3 early in honor of the news of our show coming back. The rest goes up tomorrow.

beta thanks to the wonderful @tasyfa

Pairing: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Alex Manes/Forrest Long, Michael Guerin/Maria Deluca (past) Kyle Valenti/Maria Deluca (implied/mentioned)

Tags: Starts Forlex ends in Malex, Getting back together, Nebulous Season 3, Angst,  Pining, Alien Soulmate Bullshit, Emotional Infidelity, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comforot,  Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk , Telepathy, Handprint Sex

Summary: A year after Crashcon, Michael knows three things for certain. 

1. He loves Alex and he probably definitely always will.

2. Having Alex as his best friend makes everything in his life better.

3. Knowing, thanks to his bullshit alien biology, that Alex still fantasizes about his body regularly while dating someone else for a year, well, that is a little more difficult to navigate. 

It’s fine. It is all just fine. 

Author Notes: This content is probably not appropriate for review by a college writing class on tumblr, just saying but you’re welcome to leave a kudo if you like it. 

*****

It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower for Michael. 

His first Sunday off in over three months deserved a little self-care, he had decided. The summer had brought an abrupt uptick in work at the garage with increased summertime driving leading to more careless accidents and stranded motorists to tow to safety. While Walt would deny it to the end, Michael couldn’t help but notice the old man had slowed down in his work. Between doing his best to keep Sanders’ in business and taking shifts at the Crashdown to fill in for the still-absent Liz so Arturo and Rosa could have their own break, taking the time for more than a perfunctory late night wash down felt luxurious to Michael.

There was a point to staying busy, with filling every hour inside an engine or on a different project around the junkyard with his trailer and that point was distraction. Distraction from the awareness that everyone was thriving. Max and his new-found ‘cousin’ Jones were reconstructing the history of their people’s language and literature together. Isobel had recently celebrated her three-month anniversary with Monica, an artist who shared the same studio space as Rosa. Maria had made exploring her alien-rooted abilities the focus of her life outside of the bar, combining her knowledge of yoga and meditation to crack the ability of moving forward in time. With that success, she had managed to bring back the answer to saving her brain from damage from the future. Her work with Kyle in developing the treatment for her and Mimi had led a new romance there. Then there was Alex, the true focus of Michael’s need for distraction, marking a one-year anniversary with Forrest. 

It was fine. All Michael had ever wanted was for Alex to be happy. The distractions he had filled his life with helped soothe the edges of knowing who was at the root of Alex’s new-found peace.

In the last year, Michael had built a permanent wooden deck out in front of his Airstream, transforming his fire pit into an outdoor brick barbecue oven, before moving on to recycle discarded auto glass into window panes for a small greenhouse complete with a rainwater cistern off the rear of the trailer. The actual interior boasted its own changes, an expanded shower stall and more of a kitchen set up than a hotplate and kettle with a small split-level stove and expanded countertop. The next task was building a canopy to shield the deck from the elements. At some point, Michael had acknowledged to himself that each piece he had worked on had turned his portable, transient can-go-anywhere Airstream into a stable fixture at Sanders’. 

A home with roots. 

A home without Alex and he had accepted that, respecting Alex’s choice of partner. They were the right people for each other, but were always meeting at the wrong time. For a while, he had waited patiently for things to end with Forrest. He had been happy enough to work on being Alex’s friend in the meantime. Then, once they were truly friends sharing every stupid moment of their days via a text message or over a beer at his trailer, he had felt the betrayal of his selfish thoughts keenly. What kind of friend would root for a break-up? What kind of friend would wish heartbreak on the other?

The asshole kind, he had concluded. 

As the hot water from the shower head poured over his head though, the acceptance he had about Alex moving on was just a little farther from his reach because Alex was currently thinking about him. They weren’t platonic friend-thoughts either.

A ghost sensation of a hand skirted down Michael’s body, lingering over his chest hair, and fuck, Alex had really loved to card his fingers through it. His mind was awash with impulses not his own, hot anticipation and the thrill of pleasure dropped down his body like the free-falling crest of a rollercoaster. Michael closed his eyes, soaking in the feelings. A gasp escaped his mouth, heard by no one in his trailer. Good God, Alex was really ready, waking with morning wood or to someone — Wrapping his own hand around his hardening cock, Michael stroked himself in time with Alex’s thoughts, pushing aside his own. It was best to just give into temptation and enjoy the moment. 

It was something he had learned to embrace with varying degrees of eagerness over the last few years. 

The connection with Alex had formed apparently sometime after the shed, but it had taken him over ten years and Alex moving back to Roswell to realize what was going on between them. The summer they had turned eighteen, they had barely been able to keep their hands off each other in the desert, and when Michael was alone, all he could think about back then, was Alex. His head had been a complex swirl of emotion, slingshotting him from the highs of seeing Alex to the lows of facing his own aborted future. There was the longing for Alex, the sadness that he knew their time was limited because Alex was going to go places, and he was stuck in Roswell watching over Isobel, but in the background, of what he thought was a relic from Jesse’s attack, was always a sense of sick fear, of being caught. Again.

Then over the last ten years, Michael would experience this awareness, and suddenly all he could think about was Alex. How it felt to touch him, the wickedness of his mouth, the burn and the stretch to accept Alex’s cock as he took him inside with a bitten lip- Michael thought it was just his mind, giving him a touchstone to happiness and the remembrance of being loved briefly by Alex. Nostalgia. Afterwards as he caught his breath, with his chest splattered with come, the sadness would seep in again, stealing whatever light that was made by those memories.

It wasn’t until after the drive-in, when Alex had spent almost two months avoiding him in person, that Michael had realized that those moments, late at night or early in the morning, were tied to Alex. It took falling into his bed one night, after visiting Isobel in her pod to finally piece it together. His face had hurt from crying on the drive home and the urge to sleep and never wake up again had been so incredibly strong that it took a moment for him to realize he was thinking about Alex. His cock hadn’t even been on his radar, but suddenly all he could think about was getting sucked off. 

Fuck, he hadn’t wanted it then, too sad and scared about Isobel to feel much connection to his body for the purposes of pleasure, but the sensations and feelings that had overtaken Michael were too intense to fight that night. Later as he panted, open-mouthed and staring at the ceiling of his Airstream with distant thoughts of cleaning up, his phone rang once. Only the once. Then a ding of a text.

Alex -is home: Sorry pocket dialed.

The rush of self-loathing that hit Michael as he read the message had been so strong he had dropped the phone on the floor of the trailer. That’s when he knew it wasn’t his feelings in his head because in all the years of knowing Alex, of loving Alex, he had never once felt disgust toward himself for his feelings for Alex. From the moment across a borrowed guitar, Michael had accepted the tilt of his axis toward Alex Manes as a fundamental fact, like force equalling mass times acceleration.

Alex hadn’t shared that comfort, and the more Michael tuned into what was going on in Alex’s head, the more his heart broke. Two things became clear to Michael over time; the occurrences were sporadic enough for him to know that he only felt them when Alex was specifically thinking about Michael when he jerked off, and the post-orgasm feelings of disgust and self-loathing were not isolated incidents for Alex to feel afterwards.

“Sometimes things end in a whimper, Guerin-” and Michael had numbly accepted that as proof that while Alex might enjoy thinking about his body, about the ways he had pleasured Alex in the past, Alex had no desire for anything more from Michael. The sex was epic, fodder for a late night fantasy, but Michael himself? He was not someone that Alex wanted to want. 

He had changed Alex’s name in his phone from “Alex -is home” to “Alex -is a bad idea” after that and then cursed himself for the trick of alien biology, doomed to be forever aware that he was an example of backsliding to Alex. When Maria had reached for him that night in Texas, he had welcomed her because she seemed at least self-aware of the fact she didn’t want to want him. There was zero chance of a misunderstanding between them that night, even as he kicked himself for still following after people who swore to him that it would never happen again.

For a long time after Caulfield, he had thought perhaps the grief of losing his mother had broken the link with Alex, setting them both free in the wreckage and dust of the prison. The dying psychic screams of his people had rolled over him, scorching his thoughts into cinders as that last connection to love and hope burned out in his mind, his mother’s life extinguishing under the thunder of Semtex and C-4. Then one night shortly after moving his trailer to the Wild Pony, it had happened again. The same overwhelming feeling of need, of longing, but this time the self-loathing afterwards had been accompanied by a crippling feeling of guilt. He had laid there in the twilight of the Wild Pony’s loft, having silently come into his palm while the sound of Maria’s breathing brushed against his ear. For the first time, he had joined Alex in that feeling of self-hatred. 

It was past the time for him to flip the switch from ‘tortured lust’ to some semblance of friendship with Alex, if he could and so tentatively, he agreed to work on uncovering his mother’s past together with him. He updated his phone again with that decision in mind to “Alex -sup bro”.

After Maria had learned the truth about Rosa and sent him away with betrayed eyes, he experienced a moment of weakness for Alex after the visit they had made to the Long Farm. There had been a lightness in how Alex had moved that day, his steps had been considered but committed as they had explored the last place his mother had felt at home on earth. Inside of Michael’s heart, he had been able to feel the pieces moving together while he had stood in a place where Nora had had a family, next to a man who had always represented that promise to Michael. The openness of Alex’s smile as they had waited for Forrest Long to reappear had had Michael thinking dangerous thoughts again about a future with him.

What if.  What if Alex were ready to take a step toward him without the weight of the past? 

That tenuous hope had lasted until the night after Alex had given him the piece of the ship’s console. Standing in his bunker near two am, he had been examining the new piece of his ship, of his past, puzzling over why it wasn’t bonding with the rest of the console when he had felt the awareness of Alex creep into his cells, into his DNA. Eagerly he had opened his jeans with both hands and had fisted his cock, letting himself go with the pull of Alex’s desire. In the aftermath, he had found himself on the floor of the bunker, with come dripping off a fallen drawing of a ship’s engine, but near tears with the knowledge that nothing had changed for Alex. It had still been the same fear flooding his veins, still the same anchor of tortured longing and deep shame weighing his limbs down even as he had been left wrecked by how good his body had felt.

It had been madness for Michael the next few months as he had fallen in deeper with Maria, while the connection with Alex had kept tugging at his soul. There had been little rhyme or reason to when it had happened. Weeks would pass where he apparently hadn’t crossed Alex’s mind once, and then there had been a week when every night Michael had been hit with the same mix of love, lust and bottomless need. Thankfully it had matched with the week-long retreat Maria and Mimi had taken together, saving Michael the work of explaining to her why he was wearing out the washing machines at the Fluff N Fold with his dirty sheets.

The self-torment Alex had felt about him had slowly lifted, to the point when Michael had found out the truth about Walt Sanders, he had called Alex without hesitation. The contact in his phone had changed to ‘Alex- best bro’. If he had finally become a measure of comfort for Alex to remember in his most personal moments, then perhaps Alex could also become a comfort to him, without the mire of their trauma holding them frozen in place. 

He had been fooling himself completely in the aftermath of Alex’s abduction that friendship would ever be enough for him. The wounds from his breakup with Maria had still been bleeding below his skin when he had stepped into the Wild Pony to hear Alex singing about him. About them. Then he had been hit with the connection, blossoming open for the first time ever in Alex’s actual presence under the spell of his song. 

There had still been a ghost of darkness in Alex’s feelings for him, as he had sung about fighting battles but for the first time in a long time, Michael had felt that there was hope that Alex was finally finding peace with Jesse dead. Despite Isobel’s prodding him to stay and make a move, he had known that it wasn’t their time yet. There had been too much grief and regret swirling in his head, and not just from Alex, but he could be patient for them both for the right moment. The connection had never felt more alive between them that night on the promise of a future.

At least that was what he had thought, until time had kept passing yet here he was, standing in his shower with his hand on his dick a year later, while Alex was across town in someone else’s bed but clearly thinking about him.

Michael watched as his seed dripped down the fiberglass walls, the shower spray sending it down the drain in an eddy of his own frustrated longing. His body was calm, at least, and his mind was buzzing with happiness from Alex. He concentrated on the euphoria floating between them in particular. Alex had soaked up pleasure this morning, pursuing it with a greed that Michael couldn’t help but admire, and then he had let himself go without any hint of shame. God, it felt good to know that Alex had finally found that comfort with himself.

He breathed in and out, counting the seconds down until the connection faded. Once it was over, he gave himself five more minutes under the hot spray, letting whatever was welling in his eyes, slip unseen down his face. He cursed his stupid alien biology in the same breath that he clung to it for giving him Alex again, if only briefly. 

After he was dressed for his brunch plans with everyone, he checked his phone before he left, to find a text from Alex. The contact had been updated one more time, six months after the Crashcon, from “Alex -best bro” to “Alex -bf”. Isobel had been way too excited to see that notation, until Michael had patiently explained it had stood for ‘best friend’. Maybe in another universe it was ‘boyfriend’, just not this one.

This wasn’t crumbs, he had argued to her, Alex was still a feast for him in whatever way he could have him. He read the text with his mind still working to box up the feelings that lingered for Alex, “Tell everyone we will be late- overslept”. The ‘we’ was what puzzled Michael the most about the whole situation over the last year. Why was Alex still thinking about Michael the way he did while he was with someone else?

AO3 link for more

[strangerobin]

Rue: Chapter 4 (Jasper Hale x OC)

Not everyone is excited for a reunion. Especially when expectations are not aligned.

**Note: Feel free to leave me a comment and tell me how you feel about the story so far!

I had a bit of difficulty writing this part I must say; but I don’t believe that two people meeting again in forever can go back to being in love like nothings happened.

But lemme know what you think!**

Elsewhere.

Adeline ran as fast as she could, her chaser right at her heels as she darted into the woods. Rain pelting heavily, the moon hidden behind clouds, the woods seemed darker than usual.

To make matters worse, she was slowing down. She had been starving herself greatly recently, in a self-loathing attempt and now she deeply regretted her foolish decision. As if it wasn’t enough she was having trouble controlling her hunger, now she was being chased down by an unknown assailant, vampire. She ignored the constant tugging at her heart again, begging her to stop, to turn around and just look at her chaser.

It occurred to her then that this person was the same one who was at Whitehorse. Judging from the female vampire that had approached her just now in the bar, someone or some persons were interested in her. It might not even be her father. But bullshit, she wasn’t going to let this unknown stranger get to her. Nor was she going to let them ruin her peace of mind she had fought to safeguard for decades now. She needed a plan, and she needed it fast.

There was a clearing just a few miles south, if she could just make it there…! Pushing her limits, she ducked under a pine and concealed herself into the night, mindful not to tread on anything that might give her away. Circled the perimeter and watched as the man who had been chasing her stopped in the clearing, apparently confused that he had lost her track somehow.

Now-

Blood pumping, she darted out and aimed for the jugular. Her hand clasped onto the man’s neck in a death grip and pushed him up into a tree.

“Who are you and what do you want from me?” Adeline hissed. The man, blonde she noted, made no move to subdue or even try to escape her clutches. His face was still partially hidden under his hair, but she was aware of his amber orbs observing her behind his curtain of hair. Neither did she miss the scars, multiple healed bite wounds littered across his porcelain neck and clavicles, screaming danger. Her heart hammering in her chest now, a tidal wave of anxiety washed over her and an eerie sense of foreboding was looming overhead. Her mind was trying to make a connection, something about this man just… But the anxiety got to her again and she tightened her grip over his neck even harder.

It occurred to her then that the man’s companion was also nowhere to be found. Was this a trap after all?

“Answer me.” She growled impatiently. “Who are you? Why are you after me? Where is your companion?!”

Yet he only remained mum. This only further enraged her.

“Speak or I’ll rip your pretty head off of its rightful place.”

“Just like how you ripped my heart out all those years ago?”

Momentarily Adeline was caught confused by the man’s reply, until he looked up and the dim moonlight casted shadows on his smooth marble like face. Adeline gasped, dropping her arm and taking a step back. A chill ran up her spine and grasped painfully onto her heart, tightening; just as her mind roared, losing its usual powers of logics and deduction.

“Jasper?”

*

Back at the parking lot, Jasper had suddenly felt a breeze, a sliver of a shadow passing by, and then the strongest urge he had ever had to run after the shadow. Unknowingly, he had let the urge overtook his actions; until he saw Adeline materialising out of thin air, running at top speed a few yards before him did he finally realised what had happened.

He had chased on then, close on her tail.

And now he watched, somewhat in fascination, at the myriad of emotions that ran through Adeline’s eyes in that instant. Shock and disbelief gave way to confusion, then guilt and grief. He’d forgotten just how expressive she can be at times and how he could read her like an open book.

Except it was his Adeline. His sweet Adeline.

There was no mistaking on his part. She had not aged a single day. Her hair was shorter now, but her countenance, and those expressive cornflower eyes they were the same, fresh from his memory. There was no doubt in it. Now that his vision was so much better, he could even notice features on her face that he would have missed as a human. And yes, he could also smell her sweet hybrid scent, so similar to Renesmee’s yet also different in it’s own way. Oh how his cold dead heart felt, ready to burst, he had never felt so alive since his transformation. Perhaps he shouldn’t be too hasty in accepting this hybrid thing, but it would explain so much of her past actions. And it would also explain so well how they were seeing each other right there and now. And more than anything, he was just… feeling all kinds of emotions now that she was here again. Joy and shock at the prospect of reunion, apprehension and nausea at how events would unfold. But mostly he felt a deep inner relief and serenity for the first time in years. One he did not know that he had been missing until beholding her again for the first time in centuries.

She was the missing piece he had been seeking unknowingly all these years.

He had meant to step forward, to embrace her, to touch her, anything, something just to confirm her presence right in front of his eyes. To hold onto her, to make sure that she wouldn’t just disappear again into thin air again.

But even as he pondered on his actions, those haunting orbs were now settling to something between fear and distrust.

Adeline, her hand trembling against her lips, was slowly backing away as she tried to process the events that had transpired; unsettled, she did not even notice that she had backed herself into the trunk of another tree.

“What sick joke is this?” She finally let out a shaky laugh. Her eyes darting everywhere but him.

With a sinking heart, Jasper swallowed harshly, his throat dry. He’d run through this in his head for uncountable times now. A simulation of their reunion, heartfelt exchanges and eager embraces, passionate declarations; or cold-hearted refusals and further blows to his heart. But nothing like this, not this deer-in-the-headlight shakiness, blatant denial, this refusal of even a simple acknowledgement.

“Adeline it’s me. It’s your Jasper.” He finally breathed, closing the distance. Reaching out a finger to twine her stray locks behind her ear, before leaning in to take a whiff of her floral scent.“It’s Jasper.” He repeated like a broken record.

“No… that’s not possible…” She murmured to herself, frozen in place by shock. Until fear flashed in her eyes again and she jerked away as if she had been electrified.

“What power do you possess? Did Father send you to lure me back?” She swallowed in alarm and closed her eyes, her cornflower orbs filled with unshed tears and undisguised fear.

“Adeline?”

“Please, I’ll go, willingly. Please… just stop what you’re doing, stop messing with my mind will you?” She continued to implore, on the verge of tears. “Stop this. I’ll go mad if you don’t.”

His heart almost broke again at her desperation, her pleads weighing heavily on him.

“No Adeline, darling. It really is me.” He whispered, cupping her face gently to catch her attention.

“No, you died all those years ago. In 1863.” Adeline shook her head furiously, as if every word was a bodily pain inflicted on her part. “I saw the stone, Mrs Whitlock told me so.”

“No, no.” Why couldn’t she just see him for what he was? Why was she so adamant on disproving his entire existence? “I was turned, I was found by a coven of vampires and turned.”

“I don’t believe you.” She finally looked him in the eye and he could see the determination behind, the determination to reject his being altogether as nothing more than a illusion of hers, put into her mind as some cruel joke.

His insides raged then, why couldn’t she see the obvious? He did not come so close to her only to lose her again! Not this time!

“So I will go. I will not shackle you to a life of secrets and miseries. Nor will I bind you to eternal gloom and slaughter your happiness, take your sun and hide your moon.” He recited in a sudden outburst of spite. “Just know that, in another life where I was free of lies and deceit, I would move heaven and earth just to stay alongside you.”

Adeline gasped audibly, her eyes grew big as saucers, and a tear glided down her cheek. Her lips trembled and he could feel the turmoil and shock in her. He could practically hear the whirling of the cogs in her brain moving, as she finally put two and two together. Her eyes darted frantically, as the truth dawned on her.

“This can’t be.” She finally let out a hysterical laugh and muttered weakly, backing up shakily and holding onto a branch for support. “This is impossible.”

“It’s the truth, darling. I-”

“No!” She screamed with all her might. “No.” She mumbled again raking a hand through her curls roughly and shaking her head in denial, even as tears were streaming freely down her face now. “You died… you died…”

“Adeline…”

“I have to go.” She muttered to no one in particular. “I can’t, I can’t, this can’t happen, this shouldn’t have happened…My fault, my fault. I shouldn’t have… shouldn’t have…”

“Adeline!” He reached for her then, to stop her, to pull her out of her panic.

“Don’t touch me!” She screamed, slapping his hand away. “Don’t…” Adeline chewed on her lips and swallowed nervously, before looking at Jasper, her eyes a sea of emotions and anguish. “Don’t try to find me ever again.”

Without so much as a backward glance, Adeline bolted in the opposite direction with lightning speed and melted into the night.

Left alone in the open, Jasper clenched and unclenched his fists. This was not what he had anticipated, in fact the worst had happened. There was a new agony in his heart, a heaviness weighing on him. Could broken hearts break a second time? If so, his had died a second time today. He could make chase, to corner her, to confront her; but was her blatant rejection not evident enough? Did she need to spell it out in black and white for him?

Letting out a heart-wrenching howl, Jasper dropped to his knees. His eyes were burning like coals but no tears would ever fall out, unlike her. He had lost that ability all those years ago, oh but how he wished he could cry now! To let release any, even the slightest of his unsurmountable grief.

But he could not.

Why couldn’t things stayed the way it had been back in Texas? If she had been a simple dressmaker, if he had never joined the army; they would have married, settled down, had a children or two and grew to see each other old. Buried together in the local cemetery, side by side and that would have been it.

Life was so so cruel.

He punched his fists repeatedly into the ground out of frustration.

Until he felt the strangest sensation.

A pull. There was a strange pull at his heart; tugging at his heartstrings, urging him on in the direction Adeline had just disappeared into.

Jasper stood up slowly, gauging at this new sensation.

It was as if an invisible pathway had just opened for him. There was a new lightness in his heart now. A giddiness at what he had just discovered.

And he thought that finally he understood what this all meant now.

*

This couldn’t be happening.

It was impossible!

Surely he was an imposter?! Her Jasper! Her Jasper had been dead for more than a hundred years, he couldn’t possibly have came back from the dead? And to become a vampire of all things?

A vampire? God forbid, that would mean that someone had changed him!

But she recalled his topaz eyes that shone eerily in the moonlight, the icy cold skin that had cupped her face so lovingly, that marble smooth and hard skin, the bite marks littered all over his neck. Literally nothing about him screamed human; those were the features of a top predator.

Was this some form of joke the universe was having on her? Her Jasper alive all this time? An immortal not unlike her, but stronger and more lethal?

No! No! No! No! She’d left this hole years ago. She wasn’t going to dig herself into another hole now! It couldn’t have been him! Dead as a door nail he was. She’d seen his grave, she was there.

Though no one ever recovered his body. A treacherous voice whispered in the back of her mind. And anyhow what was that line that he had recited then? It was word for word from the letter she had written to him all those years ago. No one other than himself could have read it.

Her treacherous mind continued to drift into dangerous territory, and though she tried to steer it away, the barriers were all but down now.

She’d rather it had been a stormy night. That thunder and the rain, they would have distracted her from her thoughts. But no.

The moon was a beacon hung against a starless backdrop, and through the half parted curtains, the clear moonlight filtered in, illuminating every feature of his in a white halo. Everything was so calm, so peaceful, in comparison to the raging storm within her.

She’d never stare into those warm brown eyes again, never run her hands through his thick golden curls, never feel his chuckle rumbling deep in his chest or his beating heart on her palm-

“Darlin’?” Jasper’s lashes fluttered, he had sensed her uneasiness somehow and was struggling to rise from his slumber.

“It is nothing darling.” She murmured before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, relishing in his strong embrace one last time. “It was only a dream.”

He grunted and soon his breathing was even again.

With his handsome face and his wits and charm, he’d be able to rise up in the ranks, and get a fine rich Southern Belle for a wife quick enough.

Father’s threats were still fresh in her mind.

Better this than a mangled body, six inch deep in the ground.

Better leave now when he still loved her, than when he learnt of the truth, the ugly horrible truth.

Every move was another battle. How she withdrew herself from his arms, how she struggled not to sob or to crawl back into bed and confess every little sin she had committed. To stay for another day, for him to tell her that everything would be alright for another day. How her heart broke to leave the ring on the dresser and the heartless note she had written.

One final kiss to his forehead because she couldn’t bear to turn back a second time for she was sure that she would lose her resolve and strength to leave him.

But another day would become another week, another month, another year. What then when Father returned for her? Or when he realised that his wife had not aged a single day since she turned 17?

Better this farewell now. Better to look back with love and fondness and regret, than to let it be corrupted by hate and disgust or worse… blood.

Tomorrow he will wake and she will be gone. And when the time is just right, he will forget her, he will move on, fight the war, get married, grow old. All men do, the world must go on. And only she will be stuck in time, reminiscing the past through rose tinted lenses.

It was alright so long as he lived. She would live with this pain. She would bear this petit mort.

Every. Single. Time.

Until there was nothing more left of her heart.

Was this all for naught then in the end?

Was there no need for to leave him then? Or was his death inevitable regardless of what she did? Was it something that she had done? Something she had miscalculated?

Was he even Jasper to begin with?

She needed to be somewhere, anywhere other than being alone with her thoughts. And as the little house at the end of the lane grew bigger, only then did she realise where her subconscious had lead her to.

“Adeline?”

Standing at the doorway was her half brother, Anakin, smoking. Jet black hair pulled back into a ponytail, tanned torso bare displaying all his tribal tattoos. His black eyes held surprise as he eyed her carefully.

“I didn’t think I would see the likes of you for the next few years.”

“Change of plans Anakin. Is Father here?”

“It’s only me and the tyke; you know me and the old man can never stay in the same room long before ripping each other throats.” Anakin snorted before flicking his cigarette butt away. “But Ad are you alright? You look awful and you’re shaking so badly; and you’re soaked through and muddy. What happened, Ad?”

“Nothing.” She mumbled. “Just invite me in for a bath will ya.” Though now that he mentioned it, she was feeling kind of faint. Intending to push her way in, Adeline stumbled instead and Anakin was by her side in a flash, supporting her.

“Shit you’re weak. When was the last time you even fed Ad?”

“Addieeeeeeeeeeee.” From within the house, a shrill cry sounded. It was followed by loud footsteps and a young girl of 7 or 8 bounded straight into the foyer; her features were Asian, soft brown eyes and straight dark hair. And a sunny smile on her face. “You came!”

“Hey Loreen.” Adeline tried to smile and felt another wave of nausea.

“Lorie be a good sport and run the bath will you? Addie needs a good bath and rest after her long journey.”

The child straightened her back immediately, sensing the edge in Anakin’s voice and the urgency of the matter. “Alright.” She chirped and turned to go into the bathroom.

“I see you’ve both been well.” Adeline remarked offhandedly, to which Anakin rolled his eyes.

“Bath and get changed. I’ll go get you some blood.” Anakin sighed eyeing his dirty sister. “And take those shoes off, I don’t want you trekking mud into the house. I just cleaned the floor this morning.”

Adeline pulled at his sleeve before he could turn to leave.

“Anakin thanks.”

The frown line over his faced softened and Anakin smiled a lopsided smile.

“Well what are family for?”

This time she didn’t have a smart comeback.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Snowed In

Y'all, the quarantine hit hard. This fic is 100% self serving but I'm posting it in case it makes anyone else feel better? To add some spicy self loathing to my day? who knows. 

No legit pairings, a tiny bit of hinting angstiness, for the sake of form, Geralt x fem!reader

Warnings: defs big warning for anxiety and depression. I don't think there's anything else? Lmk if there is and I'll edit this.

__________

“Snowed in?” you repeated, having just packed everything up and saddled both Roach and your horse Beau. 

Geralt nodded grimly, “We’ll just have to hope Jaskier hears of the weather before he tries to make it here. The mail carrier is refusing to ride the pass.”

You heaved your saddlebags down with a slightly over dramatic grunt before turning to face him, “Is it a passing storm or do they think it’s headed for us?”

He shrugged and began untacking Roach, “You’ll have to ask the innkeeper. I just heard from someone who was turned back.” 

You both finished putting the horses back in their stalls, throwing a little extra hay over the side in case you didn’t want to face the cold after dinner. The innkeeper looked frantic, attempting to deal with about five angry customers, so you headed for the connected tavern instead. In your experience, bartenders knew more scuttlebutt anyway. 

Surprisingly you two were the only ones in the bar. The pretty blonde poured the two of you a beer and slapped a loaf of bread down between you before you could utter a word of request. Something rather unusual since traveling with Geralt. 

“How long do you think this will last?” you asked, handing the woman a couple of gold coins. 

She shrugged, “Last year it was mild. Just a week I think? But the year before that the town was stuck for almost a month.”

“Hm- huh? What day is it?” you mumbled as Geralt shook you awake. 

“Twenty-three. Get up.” He ordered. The process had become routine. The two of you were stuck in a rather small room together due to overcrowding and you weren’t handling the idle time very well. 

Geralt seemed completely content to meditate by the fire and meticulously repair his armor for the rest of eternity. While you had quickly become catatonic. 

You sat up only because you knew he would lift you out of the bed completely if you didn’t do it yourself, “Ah yes, what a beautiful day to feed the horses and drink our weight in ale.” 

The sarcasm dripping from your voice only earned a stern look from your roommate. The inn had run out of the drinkable stuff last week and they were rationing little the piss water they had left.

You scratched at your hair, your hand recoiling at the feel of grease. There was nothing to do, the floor space between the bed and the fire was barely big enough for Geralt to sit cross-legged, let alone for you to do any sort of exercise to keep your mood up. Not that you would if you could anyway. Any motivation to keep some sort of normalcy had left your body around day ten. The innkeeper had let some guests spar in the lobby around day six but everyone scattered when you had attempted to join. Something about ‘the witcher’s girl’ and how ‘she might gut you out of habit’. People could be stupid, you weren’t a witcher any more than they were and even so, Geralt was calmer and more restrained than all of them combined.  

So, embracing the numbness, you stayed in bed well into the afternoon and long after Geralt had left his side of the bed.

“Did I miss breakfast again?” you asked, not making a move to get any farther from your warm blankets.

Geralt nodded, pointing to the small table near the door where some bread,  cheese, and dried meat sat waiting. 

You picked at it for his benefit, though you hadn’t really been hungry for a few days now. The storm raging outside was just about as strong as the one raging through your hollow insides. This inaction, the unknowing, the vulnerability was killing you. 

“Y/N, you need to eat more than the crumbs.” Geralt urged, moving to sit in the chair opposite to you. 

“I tried.” You sighed, “Can’t I just lay back down?”

He shook his head, “No. You’re letting this consume you. You’re tougher than this.”

You scowled at him, wanting to throw the bread in his face, “Fuck you. Nothing bothers you.”

“Your behavior is bothering me.” he countered, staring at you with a mix of worry and annoyance.

“Well isn’t that touching.” You sighed in mock flattery. Abandoning any idea of food, you got up to sit by the fire,  poking at it aggressively with an iron rod and making a point to face away from him. 

“What in the spheres is your problem?” He growled.

“Being stuck here with nothing to do?” you offered, your tone reminiscent of the young spoiled princess the two of you had saved from a wraith a few months back. 

“That’s not it. I know when you’re lying Y/N”

Your limbs felt like they might float away into the air if you didn’t curl up into a ball, “I don’t want to talk about it Geralt. I’m sorry for snapping. I just need a couple of minutes.”

“You’ve needed ‘a couple of minutes’ for the past two weeks. Time to talk.” he argued. 

You snorted, “That’s rich coming from you. You didn’t tell me you’d been stabbed until right before you passed out in Temeria.”

“I’ve tried learning from my mistakes.” his tone was one of convincing the both of you, “What's bothering you? Really.”

“I don’t fucking know Geralt.” you hissed, getting very tired of his prying.

You heard him sit back and cross his arms, “Not good enough.”

You felt the words leave your throat before you could think of their meaning, spewing out with vitriol and fire, “I’m fucking tired. I’m tired of you telling me what to do. I’m tired of watching snow pile up out the damn window. I’m tired of the stupid couple that fucks all night next door. I’m tired of this worry that feels like it will rip me apart at any fucking moment from just not fucking knowing. I’m tired of worrying about Jaskier. I’m tired of worrying about the horses getting stocked up when there’s nothing I can do to help them. I’m tired of the glares from the other guests. I’m tired of feeling powerless. I’m tired of having no decent outlet for this anxious energy I’m stuck with. I’m tired of not knowing when this feeling will go away. And I’m absolutely fucking exhausted by the thought that it’s only been twenty-fucking-three days yet I feel I’ve been trapped here for a god-damned-eternity.” 

The last sentence broke your resolve to stay angry. Upon pushing the last words from your lungs, you heaved a deep breath and let the sobs tear your chest apart, giving in to the hopelessness that had been building for weeks now. 

You heard a shuffling that registered in the back of your mind as Geralt sitting behind you, but even so, you flinched when a hand rested on your shoulders. He scooped one hand under your knees and pulled you onto his lap, pulling a blanket from the bed and wrapping it around the two of you. He let you sob until the sobs turned to whimpers.

“I didn’t realize, I’m sorry Y/N” he whispered, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your hair, sending a flood of warmth to your cheeks.

“You don’t need to be.” you croaked, leaning into his affection.

“I didn’t need to pry either.” He argued.

You just hummed in reply, too much of your energy spent on purging your system of those hideous sobs. You did make a noise of protest when he lifted you from his lap and set you beside him on the floor. 

“Stay by the fire, I’ll be back.” He instructed, the tenderness of his voice surprising you. 

Minutes later, as you were beginning to pull yourself back together, he returned with a terry cloth robe and what smelled like fresh jasmine soap. Without a word, he hoisted you into his arms and carried you across the room to the bathroom. He set you on your feet and handed you the robe and soap before turning his attention to the lever pump hanging over the ceramic tub. 

“A bath?” You tried to bring your usual playful tone back to life and failed miserably.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” 

You shook your head, “I’m just…” slightly disoriented? you finished the sentence in your head, not sure how to phrase it.

“Not used to anyone accommodating your emotions.” he finished, a knowing look in his eyes reminding you just how much he knew of isolation and pain. 

As you nodded you had to mentally remind yourself you have to let people help you, that it’s okay to let people help you.

You didn’t bother waiting for him to leave before you peeled off your riding breeches. Melitele only knows how long you’d gone without changing them. You had more trouble unlacing the cinched waist blouse you’d been wearing the last four days. The restless tossing and turning you’d done instead of sleeping had it knotted four times over. When you’d finally rid yourself of every last thread the tub was full. 

Geralt traced a sign in the water, sending ripples over the surface and steam up in the air, “Shouldn’t be too hot, but test it first.” He mumbled, making an effort not to stare at you too long. 

It was rather hot but you had exposed yourself enough for one day. You took the hand he offered for balance and sank into the nearly scalding water without hesitation.

He knelt next to you, “If you wish to be alone-”

“No.” You interrupted, not having the courage to look up at him, “Please don’t go.” The words barely escaped your mouth, but Geralt heard them perfectly fine.

He wet a washcloth and lathered it with soap before handing it off to you. With the rest of the bar, he began washing your hair. At first, his hands were hesitant, as if he was afraid to hurt you. He paused when you gave up scrubbing the sweat and dirt from behind your knees, but only for a moment. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes. His nails scratched at the base of your skull, coaxing a sigh from your lips. As he massaged the soap through the tangled mess he took his time with the tension in your temples, then the pressure points behind your ears, even working out the knots in your neck. You did your best not to moan, but a couple of gasps and pleased grunts may have slipped out.  He rested a hand between your shoulders and guided you back, dipping your hair into the water to rid it of the froth he’d created. 

You peeked up at him through your lashes. If he noticed he didn’t show it. His face was relaxed, almost serene, as he raked his fingers through your hair, gently tugging on the bigger tangles. You hadn’t ever taken the time to look at his eyes before, he seemed uncomfortable over them when you’d met so you left him alone about it. Looking at them now, you regretted it. They were a beautiful mix of honey, sunflowers, and glittering gold. And they were so kind. The idea that people spat at him when they recognized his eyes made your heart ache. 

With a slight nudge from him, you sat back up, all the tension in your body having melted in the hot water or under his touch. You pulled your knees to your chest, resting your arms across them and your chin on your arms. The events of the day had you feeling like a child who’d gone too long without a nap being soothed back to sleep. If you were being honest with yourself you missed the feeling of safety that came with someone taking care of you. 

Geralt brushed your favorite oils through your hair, doing his best not to pull through knots too roughly, but it was in the same bun for about four days. 

You let your tired mind wander as you watched snow fall out the small port window above the tub. The comb had failed to detect any knots in your hair for some time but it seemed Geralt was just as lost in thought as you.

Eventually the water grew cold and you had to accept this couldn’t go on forever. 

“I think I might need to get out soon.” you mumbled, inspecting your pruney fingers. Everything in you was telling you to stay. Stay in this safe place with your gentle guardian. But you knew if you didn’t get out soon you’d never warm up, fire or not. Not to mention you knew you were taking Geralt’s actions more to heart than they were meant. He simply felt guilty for pushing you too far. 

That didn’t mean you wanted him gone though. You were more than happy to live the lie for a little while longer.

"I'll go check the horses." He offered, placing a towel and the robe within your reach. 

"Thank you, Geralt. For not… I don't know? Laughing at me?" You refused to look at him, being vulnerable enough as you already were. 

"Y/N…" he said your name like it meant something but you couldn't figure out what, "You never have to thank me. I owe you so much more than a hot bath and kind words." 

You turned your head to argue but when you saw his expression the words died on your tongue. All you could offer in response was a small smile.

It seemed to be enough for him and he nodded before disappearing through the door, leaving you to ponder what he'd meant. 

_________

Part 2 here!

[fellulahh]

‘Mammon visits MC in the human realm and Lucifer gets jealous’ Part 18/???

Read Part 17 here!

-

Barbatos watched Diavolo intently, surprised at how calm he was. He wasn’t used to seeing his Lord hurt. “Indeed.” He spoke softly, “Is there anything I can get you, My Lord?”

“No.” Diavolo shook his head, “I wish to be alone. But please see to it that MC’s belongings are delivered to the house.”

“Right away, My Lord.”

-

Lucifer entered the House of Lamentation with an incredibly sombre look on his face. After years of building up trust with Diavolo after he saved Lilith and took him in under a pledge, Lucifer had never felt so betrayed in all of his time as a demon. The last two years or so of knowing MC felt like a lie - Diavolo had deceived him all of this time.

As he went to make his way up the stairs, he was surprised to see Satan waiting for him sat on one of the steps. “Is it true?” The blond demon asked quietly as their eyes met. “Everything in the journal?”

“No - at least not anymore.” Lucifer sighed as he shook his head. One of his hands made their way up to his hair; he pushed his fingers through it as he furrowed his eyebrows. “He’s in love with her.”

“What?!” Satan exclaimed, standing up from the step. “I don’t know what’s worse: that he was planning to breed with her for his own benefit or that he manipulated her into living with him because he wanted her all to himself.”

“Me neither.” Lucifer let out a deep breath, “What’s important is she’s here with me now - Diavolo won’t see her again; not unless he wants me to tell her the truth.”

“And what about your pledge to him?” Satan asked, concerned that Diavolo may use this to exploit Lucifer.

“Pledge or no pledge, MC and the baby are my concern now.” Lucifer stated, “I don’t know what may come of my word to Diavolo after tonight but all my concern is right now is MC.”

“So you’re no longer hiding from your fears?” Satan asked quietly, eagerly waiting for Lucifer’s answer.

“No.” He shook his head, “I don’t want to risk losing her.”

For the first time Satan felt a sense of pride as he watched Lucifer from where he was stood. “So you finally got your head out of your ass?” He chuckled, making a joke out of the situation.

Lucifer shot him a glare momentarily but couldn’t defend himself. In all truth, he knew that Satan had played a big part of pushing him toward overcoming his fear. Throughout MC’s entire pregnancy, he’d consistently been Lucifer’s voice of reason - even if the eldest brother didn’t listen at times. He let out a sigh as he gazed at Satan. “Who else saw the journal?” He asked, remembering how Barbatos stressed that nobody else saw it other than him.

“Just me.” He nodded, “I made something up to Mammon.”

“So only you know?” Lucifer asked intrigued.

“That’s right.” Satan confirmed.

Once again, Lucifer felt relief wash through his body as Satan saved him. Caught up in his blooming pride for his supposed son, he stepped up to him, cautiously wrapping his arms around his body. The fourth eldest was completely startled when Lucifer pulled him into an embrace. He’d never shown his kind of affection to the other brothers let alone him.

“What are you doing?” Satan asked disgusted, “Please get off me.”

“Sorry.” Lucifer mumbled as he pulled away, “I just wanted to thank you.”

“Don’t waste your time doing that when MC’s up there waiting for you.” He shook his head, “We can talk later.”

Lucifer nodded before following his orders. As he began ascending the staircase, Satan’s eyes remained on him until he disappeared round the corner. A small smile tugged on his lips as he looked at his Father with admiration.

Making his way toward his bedroom, Lucifer expected to see MC inside where he left her. However, as he stepped through the door she was nowhere to be seen. Usually he wouldn’t panic - it was actually quite normal for MC to not be in her room as she was always caught up with one of the brothers. However, given the anxiety that filled his body over the thought that Diavolo would do whatever possible to take MC, Lucifer began to worry.

Stepping into the room, he sighed to himself. His heart was still racing after his confrontation with Diavolo. But before he could allow his mind to race, a voice interrupted him.

“Luci?” She called. Turning around on his heel, Lucifer gazed at MC as she stood in the doorway. “You’re back.” She smiled.

“MC.” He breathed stepping up toward her. She was surprised when he delicately placed a hand on her cheek, looking deep into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She asked with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” He nodded, not removing his hand from her skin. “There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.” He stated, not wasting any more time to be honest.

“Oh?” She asked somewhat intrigued, somewhat worried.

Taking her hand in his, he led her to the colossal bed in the middle of his room. Perching on the edge, she copied his actions. She could sense something was on his mind by the way his face hardened. Meeting her gaze, he spoke softly. “I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

“How so?” She whispered, anticipating what he’d say next.

“Since you’ve come back to Devildom there have been times where you’ve felt that I’ve been avoiding you...” he began, MC nodding along, “When confronted by you about this, I put it down to being overloaded with work.” He explained, “But this wasn’t completely true.”

Stress began filling MC’s body as she feared what was to come next. Without giving him a chance to elaborate, she interrupted his speech. “So you had been avoiding me?” She asked hurt, “because of the baby...?”

Deep down she had always wondered if Lucifer really wanted the baby - she was given plenty of signs by him to lead her to believe he didn’t. However, her love for Lucifer always blinded her judgement of him.

“Yes.” He confirmed, immediately regretting his one worded answer as he saw the pained look in her eyes, “But it’s not because I don’t want it!” He spoke quickly, feeling flustered as he seemed to be digging himself a grave.

“Then why?” She asked quietly.

Lucifer hesitated for a moment. Did he really want to openly admit his fears to her? What if she saw him as a coward too and went running back to Diavolo?

‘You can’t keep thinking this way!’

“Because I’m scared.” He admitted shamefully. “Scared that I won’t be a good Father.”

MC was surprised at his words. She’d never consider Lucifer - a demon with such pride - to have doubts about himself. Analysing his fears, MC began to consider what made him feel this way.

“Because of Satan?” She asked softly, hitting the nail on the head.

“I already messed up being a parent once...what happens if I do again?” He asked her, “Especially considering this time the baby is with you. For a long time Satan absolutely loathed me - what if I repeat history and our baby hates me?”

“I don’t think you can compare the two.” She tried to reason.

“That’s exactly what Satan said.” He almost broke a smile.

“So you’ve talked to him about this?” MC asked surprised.

“He’s the one who’s been encouraging me to face my fears this entire time believe it or not. I suppose he realises our relationship can’t be saved but perhaps the one I have with his younger brother or sister can be. He’s helped me see the bigger picture.”

MC felt upset that Satan had been helping all of this time, even though it may bring him more pain.

“What eventually made you change your mind?” She asked, intrigued by his answer.

“The fear of losing you.” He nodded, “That’s been made clear to me now.” He spoke ambiguously but MC didn’t question it.

“Luci...” she breathed, clasping one of his hands in hers, “You realise you could have told me this from the beginning and I’d never have judged you for it, don’t you?”

“You know me MC.” He sighed frustrated, “I’m furious enough at myself for even having these fears. Just having them is enough to hurt my pride let alone admitting them.”

“I understand.” She nodded, “I only wish you swallowed your pride sooner - I’ve missed you over these months.”

“I’ve missed you too.” He sighed, rubbing her knuckle gently with his thumb, “But you’re here with me now - our baby brought you back to me. I’m not going to let you leave again whether or not I have a pledge to somebody.” He declared, moving his hand to rest on her huge bump. “I’m not going to hide from this any longer.”

She smiled at him as he rubbed her belly admirably. “I’m glad you’re not.” MC smiled, “I was beginning to think Diavolo would have to be with me giving birth because you’d have too much paperwork!” She laughed, attempting to make a joke. Only she didn’t realise how inappropriate it was at that time.

“Diavolo doesn’t need to worry about you or the baby any more - you’re both my concern now.” He stated with a serious face.

Leaning into his body, MC rested her head on his shoulder. “Yes dear.” She joked.

Still with his hand on her, Lucifer turned his face to plant a kiss on her head. “I’m so happy you’re here.” He whispered against her.

“Me too.” She smiled up at him.

Gazing into each other’s eyes, Lucifer leaned forward. He pressed a very long awaited kiss on her lips as he held her body tight. His whole body melted under her touch as all of his stress lifted away as his lips moulded with hers. With his heart racing fast, his stomach did flips as their kiss took him back to the first and only night they spent together. The night that brought them back to each other.

As their lips parted, both of them had a warm smile on their faces. Lucifer hadn’t felt so overwhelmed with happiness in a long, long time. Beaming at her, he lifted a hand and cupped her cheek once more.

“I can’t wait until he or she is here.” He admitted, unable to believe he was saying the words.

A sheepish looked crossed MC’s face as she quickly turned away. Holding a hand on her bump, she met his eyes as her cheeks grew red. “She.” MC whispered, “You can’t wait until she is here.”

-

@petitefeu and I thought you deserved some fluff after all of the angst we’ve given you over the past few chapters!

Question is...will Lucifer keep to his word? Will Diavolo admit to MC how he feels about her? Will Asmo get to swoon over Diavolo’s demon form again?

Find out next time on dragon ball z ‘Mammon visits MC in the human realm and Lucifer gets jealous’!

[malaks-perch]

finding what is familiar

julian devorak x reader

the guy who believes magic is logical has convinced himself that he can help you find your familiar....

warnings: none... hurt/comfort. definitely fluff.

“if you're looking for your familiar, then this—" he waved his arms out at the heights of the gargantious architecture that was the colesium. "would be the place to look."

on one of the days julian would sit while you and asra would practice magic during one of your little 'pow wows' as julian referred to it, he asked why you didn't have a pet like asra did.

when asra told him that faust was not a pet, but a familiar. julian outright laughed and shook his head. explaining that there wasn't no way that a person and an animal could have a connection through magic. maybe a very close relationship, but never sharing emotions. especially through magic.

asra brought malak's interesting connection to julian up and the doctor shook his head, claiming that he and malak were different. their relationship was special. he couldn't explain how, but it was.

you told him that finding your familiar takes time. that it in fact was a delicate process that should not be rushed and you might be well into your years before you would find your familiar. but julian was having none of that.

the man who insisted there was logic behind all magic wanted to help you find your famiiiar. you couldn't exactly say no to him. especially after you tried to tell him the ingredients for mazelinka's soup contained some magical properties. so you'd let him lead you here.

"hate to break it to you, julian, but..." you shrugged, as you let your gaze trail around the aging pillars before checking beneath a rock. "it's only a colesium."

"my dearest magician. the most amazing things are found in the most unexpected places!" julian grinned, letting his hands graze the walls of the battle arena.

you grinned, walking towards him, never meeting his eyes before giving him a doe eyed look, "Like.. you, for example?"

he flushed, sputtering out before you playfully rolled your eyes and followed your magic to the middle of the stadium. tugging a stray piece of rope and pulling up the trap door that revealed a dark hole with a ladder leading down into the abyss.

julian's devilish smile made you feel a tad more confident, but a little shaken that out of all places he wanted to search, down here was where he wanted to look with you. "You think my familiar is hiding out down there?"

"only one way to find out." he shrugged, slipping down the ladder for you to follow moments after.

beneath the old colesium, julian was right. a whole market beneath your feet with dim lights fluttering and vendors chattering, calling out to people as they passed by in the shady interior.

"breath-taking, isn't it?" julian asked as you eagerly nodded.

your eyes lit up as julian nudged you forward, looping your arm and guiding you through the black market.

you held julian's arm, eyeing the different things as vendors offered mysterious jars as you passed by. both you and julian would pick up a few ingredients as here and there, things new and things old, paying vendors for little things you wouldn't have to go looking for in far off places until julian had strayed.

he was prodding at a beautiful peacock. smiling as a child would at seeing such a wonderous creature right here in vesuvia. his gaze met yours and as soon as his attention was back on the caged bird it had latched his beak on his finger.

he shrieked and you were at his side in a second, trying to refrain from laughing for his sake, feeding the peacock so it would let go of julian's precious fingers.

he let out a shaky breath, nodding at the creature that swooned for the affectionate grooming you gave it's crest as it ate from your hand. "w-would this be your familiar?"

you shook your head, fingers tracing over julian's as you guided the shaken doctor from the vendor's stand.

julian's eyes leaving the bird's as he brought his finger up to his face to examine the appendage.

"it's supposed to be special." you smiled, staring up at julian as you glanced at some of the caged animals before turning your gaze to the far left to keep your gaze off of them. their distressed calls and scarred bodies was enough to make you feel nauseated.

julian noticed you lean into him and clutching his arm tighter upon the louder the animals got, pulling you into one of the sectioned walls so that you could have a moment to yourself.

it was when your hands came up to block your face from him when he shushed you and moved your fingers so he could see your teary eyes. he cupped your face and brought you close to him.

“i didn’t think bringing you down here would upset you.” he wiped at the tears at the corners of your eyes, loathing what started as a wonderous adventure had turned into you being overwhelmed by the true darkness of the black market’s underbelly. “we can look somewhere else-”

you quickly shook your head and wrapped your arms around his waist to bury your face in his chest. he pressed his lips to the top of your head, “i don’t.. i can’t imagine my familiar being down here.”

a crack of a whip and a cry had you flinching deeper into julian’s chest. anyone who had the audacity to maime an animal, let alone lay their hand on one, should be arrested. especially given how they were trafficked here and most definitely homesick.

“i don’t think they’re down here.” you muttered into his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down your back. “if they were down here, there would’ve been some kind of sign by now.”

“how?” julian asked, raising a brow. “don’t tell me it’s that person to familiar connection thing asra was—"

he shook his head upon seeing you smile, he couldn’t fight his own from coming upon seeing yours. “i’m supposed to know.”

“it doesn’t make sense.” julian shook his head, leaning back into the wall as you leaned into him. “some magic jumbo is going to help us find your pet.”

“it’s not a pet, julian.” you laughed as julian began guiding you through the vendors to again, well past the animals that you had once seen. “i was hoping to show you. i know it’s.. it’s...”

“farfetched?” julian raised a brow, but you playfully scowled at him and stuck your tongue to making him laughing turn.

“down beast!” a whip cracking again and a roar sounding throughout the market.

a ping of magic made you stop abruptly.

your eyes clouded over, pupils dialating as you stood stiff as a board. a light glow began to show on your skin.

julian gawked. he quickly grabbed your face, turning you so that you stared up into his. the white of your sclera shifting into blues and purples, stars seemingly dotted over your eyes.

“y/n!” julian gently tapped your cheek. “please, darling- say something!”

your eyes turned back to their normal color. before julian could even mention getting some serious medical help, you were grabbing his hand and tugging him into a run, pushing through a crowd that surrounded a particular corner of the markets.

eyes met yours from inside a cage. you wandered forward before julian could tug you back. the animal growled, snout curling to reveal jagged teeth.

with no hesitation whatsoever, you reached into the cage, cupping the animal’s large head before it relaxed. a glow outlined you oncemore as you stared so adoringly into golden eyes. your lips curled into a smile when the animal stepped toward you, the glow washing down the animal’s black stripes and down it’s tail.

it leaned it’s head on the bars and you mirrored the huge animal, feeling it’s fur brush against your skin.

“A tiger?!” julian gaped.

you grinned, scratching beneath it’s chin as a low rumbling came from it. the merchant standing slack-jawed a few feet away.

“how much?” you asked, only sparing the man a glance.

the magic radiating off of the two of you was too much, a crowd gathering behind julian who watched in awe.

the merchant was having none of it, magic and all, he was pissed off. “i’m not selling that tiger, he’s my golden goose!”

you leaned into the bars, lip jutted out and the tiger’s sad eyes seemed to catch on. a giant paw reaching between the paw reaching between he bars and landing on your arm. it let out an anguished moan trying to get you closer.

julian crossed his arms at the sight. “i’ll be..” he watched you lean into the cage, stroking your hands over the animal’s head while the tiger hummed sadly, it’s eyes set on you. “that’s their familiar!” julian piped up, pointing at the tiger that suddenly growled at him.

your hand on it’s snout made the tiger calm and watch the man with curious eyes. it’s head cocked as it questioned the lanky’s man purpose here.

“they’ve been searching for this animal their entire life!” julian set a hand on his chest, he cupped your cheek, “my dear, he won’t let you buy him.”

“i heard.” you sighed, leaning into the cage once more.

“then get out of here.” the merchant rudely pointed in the direction from whence you came.

the tiger growled at the man, feverishly glancing btween you and the fat merchant. tears filled your eyes and you shook your head, “i.. i can’t.” your hands were back in the cage, cupping the tiger’s head. “i can’t leave him. i’ll pay for him, i’m willing to pay for him.”

julian’s heart broke for you. he prayed to whoever was watching that his plan would work.

his hand wrapped around yours, “come on-”

“b-but.. love-” you gripped the bars, the tiger growling, letting out distressed cries as julian pulled you into him, “n-no...” you pressed your hands over your mouth as tears streamed down your face at the frantic tiger in front of you.

the man let his whip out and you rushed forward, “stop!”

before julian could grab you, you were grabbing the merchant’s arm. in one fluid motion, you were beneath the man on the ground. the sound of his skin hitting yours crueler than the whip that should’ve cracked instead.

you slid back towards julian who was fuming. before he could open his mouth to make a scene, a full-bodied roar sounded through the underground market. dirt from the roof over your heads. the tiger stalking left and right in it’s cage, murderous eyes set on the merchant when you called out to it.

“i’m okay.” you told it, hugging julian’s side. julian wiping a hand underneath the quickly forming bruise on your cheek. you placed your hand over his, meeting his worried gaze, “i’m okay.”

“they stop you from striking that poor, caged animal! So you hit them instead?!” julian scoffed, doing nothing to hide the venom in his tone. another glance at your face and there was blood leaking from an angry stroke of pink on your face. julian pulled away from you so all could see the wound.

“they were willing to pay for it!”

“yeah, let them pay for it!”

“that tiger clearly does better with them! let them have it!”

people surrounded you all when the man rolled his eyes and let his arms sit atop his bulbous stomach. “i’ll settle for five hundred.”

you opened your mouth to say something and julian angrily gestured to you, “you insult them! you berate them! you abuse them! and you expect them to pay your outragious price?!”

“you’re lucky i even opened a price range!” the man scowled.

the tiger growled from behind him, menacing gold eyes cut at him. it huffed, glaring down at the man, paw stretched with claws extended and grazing the few hairs on the man’s head.

“three hundred.”

julian raised a brow and crossed his arms, “a beggar wouldn’t even bat his eye toward this stand.”

“two hundred! i will go no lower than that.”

julian raised his arms to release the most ravenous wrath that any one eyed, pirate doctor could when you hurriedly yanked him toward you and set a hand over his mouth. “that’s good enough for me!”

the man begrudgingly took your money and as the crowd was caught up in the victory, no one took notice of you fiddling with the lock holding the tiger until a series of chuffs sounded through the cheers.

“a-ahh, my love? maybe that’s not a good idea-” people were yelling and screaming at the sight of the latch being unlocking. you grinned, standing back when the door came flying off. nearly missing you as it crashed into a bunch of caged animals. birds began chaotically slamming into each other, wings clipping heads while animals ranging from weasels to boars

julian grabbed you in all the chaos and pointed to your familiar that was charging straight towards the fat merchant who stared it head on, screaming as he stood perfectly still.

“stop!” you magic surged through the underground market making people stop to grab their bearings, all the animals finally clearing out when eyes fell on the tiger that was breaths away from the man standing perfectly still.

your familiar turned meeting your eyes, it’s face softened upon seeing you, silently asking if this one man was fair game. you shook your head and patted your thighs.

“come on.”

it growled at the man who fell onto his back, scrambling as if someone were after him.

your familiar was at your feet, letting out chuffs as it rubbed his head over your legs. your fingers buried in it’s soft fur as you leaned down to pull it into you.

julian gently pulled at your arm at the many eyes staring at you both. “we should really go now.”

all three of you set a brisk pace until you found yourselves in a forest. your familiar knocking you down and laying it’s body over yours with a hum, chuffing and rubbing it’s striped head over your chest.

julian shook his head, running a hand through his hair. he should’ve expected a magician of your status to have such a magnificent companion at your side.

you peeked up over the head of the tiger that laid on you, completely content to have you at it’s side. a smile directed at julian who found himself melting all over again. “thank you, julian.”

he smiled, sitting beside you with a smile of his own. “anything for you.”

[nalgenewhore]

Slipping Through My Fingers - Nine

masterlist - ao3 - last chapter - next chapter 

warnings: none 

an: ...enjoy darlings 

“Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad. Dad—”

“Ko, Hellas, kid, what,” Lorcan groaned, rubbing his eyes as he rolled over onto his back. Kohana had snuck into his bed late last night and curled up on his chest to sleep. Lorcan hadn’t said a word, but he’d stayed awake for hours after, feeling his son’s tears drip onto his skin and the way Ko’s little frame shook. Of course, in the morning, Kohana was stretched out over the mattress, forcing his father to the edge of the bed with his vicious, subconscious kicks and pushes. 

“Can I have breakfast now?”

Lorcan sighed through his nose and looked at his clock, “Man, it’s six am, go back to sleep.” Kohana pouted and crossed his arms. He made his eyes big and wide, dipping his chin. “It’s not even light outside, prince.”

“Pretty please?” 

Lorcan narrowed his eyes at his son and Kohana pouted harder, faking a sniffle. “Dude. That’s not even fair.” 

“But I’m hungry, até,” he whined. “I want breakfast!” He continued to pout and hold Lorcan’s eyes until he gave in and got up from bed. 

“Alright, let’s go then,” Lorcan conceded, rubbing his eyes again as he picked Kohana up and put him on his feet, herding his child downstairs. “Whaddya want, K-Man?” 

They arrived at the top of the stairs and Kohana hopped down, landing on each step with two feet. “Fuckin’ cereal.” 

Lorcan rose a brow, looking down at Kohana, “A bad word, really?” 

“Yeah,” Kohana said, hopping off the last step, “I think sometimes you need bad words, Dad.” He paused and titled his head to the side. “Right?” 

“That’s right.” 

Pleased, the five-year old ran off to the kitchen, climbing up on one of the barstools. He waited patiently as Lorcan got out two bowls and filled them with cornflakes and milk. “Dad?”

“Yeah?” 

“Can we watch a movie?” 

“Yeah, what do you wanna watch?” 

“Mmm. Dunno.” 

“Why don’t you think on that while you eat?”

Kohana nodded and started eating while Lorcan made his coffee. He loved the kid, but he could do without the before sunrise wake ups, especially if he had to see Elide later that day. Oh, fuck it all to hell. He’d forgotten all about that. 

“Dad, I decided. Cars.” 

“Solid choice, kid.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Her heart was so heavy. Elide almost couldn’t bear to open her eyes in the morning, but she had to. She couldn’t just wallow in her self-loathing and self-pity for the entire day, so she dragged herself out of bed and shoved on her retro, cat-eye glasses, not having enough energy to put on her contacts. 

Shuffling to her closet, Elide pondered what was an appropriate outfit for going to the mechanic to see someone she’d hooked up with twice and semi-broken up with once. Maybe twice, she hadn’t decided what last night was yet. 

Leggings and a hoodie from her alma mater would have to do, she decided. 

As she waited for her coffee to be ready, Elide accepted Nehemia’s call. “Hey, Mi.” 

“El, honey, how are you?” Nehemia’s voice was soft and gentle. After she’d gotten home last night, she had called Nehemia and Aelin and cried like a fool. 

Now, she breathed out shakily, “Oh, you know. Getting ready to go to the mechanic’s. How about you?” 

“I’m so sorry, hon. Are you sure about the date tonight?” 

Ah, yes. The date. Originally, she hadn’t been interested when Nehemia had asked her a few days ago, but she’d still said yes. Now, she was even less excited, but… “No, don’t cancel. It’ll be nice - I’ll get to take my mind off the Lorcan situation, right?” 

Nehemia agreed, “Right. Well. Ooh, we could go out and get a new dress, you know? I’ll call Aelin and pick you up at the shop.” 

Elide smiled and wedged her phone between her chin and shoulder as she poured her coffee into her ice-filled tumbler, stirring with her straw until it was cold. “Alright. That sounds nice.” 

“Good. I’ll see you later, then. Bye, honey!” 

“Bye, Mi,” Elide said. She sipped her coffee as she navigated to the Uber app on her phone and ordered a car. After confirming the ride, she grabbed her keys and wallet, stuffing them all in her front pocket. 

She shoved her hair up into a messy bun and tied her hoodie strings into a bow before putting on her old slip-on Vans and leaving her apartment. 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

As soon as Lorcan parked the truck outside the shop, Kohana was unbuckling his seatbelt and leaping from the vehicle to sprint inside, the two braids he wore his hair in flying out behind him. He shouted his arrival to the entire shop. 

Lorcan followed at a calmer pace and smiled when he walked in to see Fenrys holding his nephew upside down by the ankle. “Morning, Fen.” 

“Hey, man. Tow truck just dropped off Elide’s VW,” Fenrys said, his voice piqued in curiosity. 

Offering nothing more than a hum in response, Lorcan headed off to his bay, smirking to himself when he heard Fenrys mutter a curse and quickly make his way over as Lorcan hung up his jacket and unlocked his tool chest. 

“Can I help you with something?” he asked Fenrys mildly. Fenrys huffed and switched his hold on Kohana, swiftly depositing the kid on the ground. 

“Man-Man, why don’t you go find Grampy? I think he could use some help.” 

Kohana nodded and was off before Lorcan could protest, looking to use his son as a shield of sorts against Fenrys’ next barrage of needling questions. Fenrys crossed his arms. “Why is Elide’s car here?” 

“Because her coolant reservoir is in need of replacement.” 

“And?” 

“An oil change, probably. Basic maintenance - you know how old cars are.” 

Fenrys scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Lorcan.” 

“Fenrys.” He was leveled with a cutting look and relented. “Hellas below, man, we were driving home yesterday and saw her and her car broken down on the side of the road. Gave her a ride home. Nothing happened.” 

Narrowing his eyes, Fenrys stared at him until he sighed through his nose. “I mean, a’ight, I guess. Whatever you say, L.” He made to go but then, “Hey. Are you still ok with that date tonight?” 

Shit. He’d forgotten all about that. “Um, I kinda forgot? I don’t have anyone to watch the kid, but if I did, then yeah.” Lorcan didn’t know what had possibly possessed him to say yes, but the presence at his shoulder urged him to go through with it. “I mean… as long as they aren’t, like, racist, homophobic or otherwise bigotted, I think we’ll be fine.” 

Relief flooded Fenrys’ face, “Ok, that’s good. Me and Mi will watch Man-Man tonight.” 

“Thanks. ‘K I need to get to…” he gestured to the car and Fenrys nodded, dapping him up before he left. 

Lorcan sighed deeply and sat on his wheeled stool, pushing himself over to the popped hood and looking into the car. “Alright, Bets, let’s see what we can do.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

Elide thanked and tipped her driver, her iced coffee nearly gone as she climbed out of the car and stood in front of Scéalaí Auto Repairs, frowning up at the sign. 

An older man, with tanned skin and grey hair walked out, a familiar child on his hip. “Hello. Can I help you?” 

Kohana yelled her name, “Elide, hi-hi! Grampy, that’s Elide.”  

“Hey, Kohana,” Elide replied, smiling fondly before addressing the older man. “Hi, I’m looking for Lorcan?” 

“Oh, yeah, he’s in the back. Come on, I’ll show you,” the man said, beckoning her to follow. “I’m Malakai, by the way. It’s nice to meet you, Elide. Kohana here talks a lot about you. “

She smiled and toyed with the string of her hoodie, “Well, Kohana just might be my favourite student. Him and Esther, of course.” 

The child lit up at the mention of his friend and smiled wildly as Malakai showed her to the back bay. “Son,” Malakai said, rapping on the bay’s door. “Elide’s here.” 

Anxiety swirled in her gut and Elide drank from her coffee just to have something to do. She heard the music - N.W.A’s Fuck Tha Police - turn down low and the metallic clink of tools being put down before heavy steps approached the door and Lorcan walked out. 

She had to physically stop her jaw from dropping open as he appeared, wearing a cutoff tee and a pair of dark washed jeans, slung low across his hips. His hair was half-up, half-down, two braids leading to a bun at the crown of his head. ”Hey, El. Cute glasses.” 

The nickname just sort of seemed to roll off his tongue and her heart did a happy little flip before she quashed the feeling and hid it with an eye roll of annoyance at his comment. “Hey. How is she?” 

Lorcan ducked his head and chuckled, “Betsy’s good. Just a little finicky but she likes me.” He smirked when she rolled her eyes once more. “Come on back, we can talk.” She froze and tried to school her expression. Evidently, it didn’t work because Lorcan held up a hand, the universal sign for chill, “About your car.” 

“Oh,” she felt her cheeks flush and drank the last of her coffee, hoping it would cool her down. “Yeah. For sure.” 

Malakai and Kohana, who had been watching the entire exchange, shared a weird look and promptly excused themselves. Elide followed Lorcan into the bay and smiled at her car, patting the headlight. “Hey, Bets.” 

A soft chuckle escaped Lorcan’s full lips and he sat down on a stool while motioning for her to take a seat at the desk. Elide stepped over to it and hovered, carefully moving things to the side so she could sit on it, her feet dangling in the air. “So. Let’s talk.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“Mi-Mi!” 

“Ko, baby,” Nehemia said, crouching and hugging Kohana. “Oh, child, I missed you.” She stood up and picked him up, booping his nose which made him giggle. “Did you see your mama yesterday?” 

“Yeah, saw mama. We had pancakes, but Dad had waffles. Auntie D had pancakes too,” he told her, lying his head on her shoulder. “You know what happened, we driving home and sawed Elide, ‘cause her car broked, you know.” 

Nehemia nodded and hummed in response, rubbing his back soothingly. “Did that daddy of yours tell you you’re coming over to me and Fenny’s home tonight?” 

Shooting upright, Kohana gawked, “Really?” He smiled so widely when Nehemia nodded in confirmation. “Do I get to sleep over?” 

“Mm-hmm,” she said, kissing the top of his head. “You know what I was thinking?” 

“What?” 

“I was thinking… we could watch Atlantis and make you some grilled cheese and ice cream. What do you think?” Kohana straightened and pressed his nose against hers, looking fiercely into her eyes. She held his stare until he nodded and smiled again, his round cheeks dimpling. “Now, let’s go find that silly uncle of yours, huh?” 

Kohana giggled and carefully touched the shimmery, golden powder on her regal cheekbone, his eyes wide in near reverence. “So shiny, Mi-Mi. Can I have some?” 

“Of course you can, malaika,” she told him, putting him down when they reached the back office. “Fenrys?” Her husband snapped his head up from where he was hunched over something and grinned. 

“Man-Man, you ready for the best night of your life?” 

Kohana’s eyebrows raised and he asked, “The best night?” He looked to Nehemia for confirmation, repeating the question. 

“Swear on my mama. Best night ever, with your favourite auntie.” Kohana made a happy sound and wiggled to be put down. Nehemia obliged him and told him to be careful around the shop. He just nodded absentmindedly and raced off. She watched him fondly, smiling as she felt Fenrys wrap his arms around her waist. 

Nehemia twisted around to face him, “Hi, baby.” 

“Hi,” he said, toying with the hem of her crop top. “Not that I’m complaining, but why’re you here?” 

“I’m taking El out shopping after she’s done with Lor,” she smiled, smiling at him and rocking onto her tiptoes to kiss her husband. Fenrys hummed and kissed her back, pulling her tightly against him. “Speaking of, let’s go check on them.” 

Fenrys groaned when she pulled away and grabbed his hand, tugging him behind her as she walked across the shop floor to Lorcan’s bay. Without knocking, Nehemia breezed in, “Hello, hello.” 

They were obviously interrupting something. Elide had her hand on Lorcan’s cheek and her thumb dragged gently, almost reverently, over a smudge of grease on his sharp sharp cheekbone. They didn’t even realize they weren’t alone as Lorcan’s mouth parted and Elide ran her fingertips down to his plush lips, their eyes locked on one another as her teeth sunk into her bottom lip and Lorcan sucked in a breath. 

Fenrys coughed and the moment was shattered as they practically leapt apart, blushing furiously as they parted.

“Hey, Mia,” Lorcan said, standing to cross over to her and give her a hug. “Have you seen my offspring around?” 

“Yeah, I think he went to annoy Luca. The boy’s working on a wicked hangover right now.” 

They all laughed at that and Elide hopped off her perch on the desk, grabbing her empty cup. “Ae texted me, she said she’s on her way.” 

“Oh, where y’all going?” Fenrys asked mildly. Nehemia shot him a weird look – he knew exactly where they were going. He subtly shook his head as he leaned against the doorframe. 

Elide frowned and did not look at Lorcan as she replied, as evenly as possible, “Shopping.” 

“Ooooo,” Fenrys said, looking way too entertained. He nudged Nehemia and she immediately started in on his shenanigans. “Whatcha shopping for?” 

“I don’t know,” she muttered, glaring daggers at Nehemia. 

“That’s not true – girl’s got a hot date tonight!” 

Fenrys gasped dramatically, “A date?” 

Elide shot the man a glare that promised a slow, slow death, unaware of Lorcan frowning for a split second and the muscle in his jaw ticking. “Yes. A date.” 

The smiling man contemplated something and then gasped again, “Oh my gods! You know who also has a date tonight?” No one answered, not that it really mattered. “That’s right – Lorcan!” 

Lorcan looked like he was praying that his Creator take him to the next life right that moment as his cheeks flushed and he intensely avoided looking anywhere near the petite, dark haired woman next to him. 

Nehemia and Fenrys were practically feeding off the thick cloud of uncomfortability hanging around the room. Elide chewed on her straw. Lorcan fiddled with the screw on his adjustable wrench. They did not look at each other. 

Elide shot Nehemia a look that screamed Help me and Nehemia nodded, smiling as she hooked her arm through Elide’s, “Welp, we should get going. See you later, boys.” 

+*+*+*+*+*+*

“But, Dad, why can’t you stay too?” 

Lorcan looked down at his son, who looked up at him with a sad light in his eyes. “I have plans, kiddo.” 

“Can I come?” 

“No dice, K-Man. Remember, you’re gonna have so much fun with your auntie and uncle,” he said, knocking on the door of Nehemia and Fenrys’ townhouse. They waited a few seconds and then heard someone running to the door. 

Nehemia was smiling as she opened the door, “Guys! Hi, come in.” 

Kohana smiled and padded in, hugging his rainbow mini-Kanken packed with all his overnight stuff to his front. “Mholo, Mi-Mi.” 

“Oh, that is very good, Ko,” Nehemia said, smiling down at the little one as he put down his bag and sat down to take off his shoes. It was a little bit of a competition between all of the adults – whose language Kohana would speak the best. So far, it had been Eyllwe in the lead. That probably had something to do with Kohana’s favouritism concerning Nehemia. “What’s happening?” 

“Not much, you know. Dad has plans. I’m not allowed to go.” 

“Well, that’s fine – you’ll have more fun with me and your Fenny, anyways, right?” 

Lorcan huffed a laugh as Kohana nodded, “That’s right!” As soon as he had taken off his shoes, Kohana jumped up and started pushing Lorcan’s legs. “Bye-bye, now. Time to go!” 

Nehemia and Lorcan both laughed and the former deterred Kohana from further booting his father out of the house. “Why don’t you go see where your Fenny is?” He nodded and hurried off, yelling for Fenrys. Nehemia turned to Lorcan and ran a cursory look over him. “Looking sharp, Salvaterre.” 

“Thanks, Mi,” he said, rolling his eyes and standing still as she tutted over the state of the collar of his black dress shirt. She pursed her lips and dusted off his shoulders. “Mia, I gotta go, I’m gonna be late.” He glanced over her head and saw Fenrys coming down the hall, who echoed his statement. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, he looks fine,” Fenrys said, slipping his arm around Nehemia’s waist and kissing her temple.

Sighing, she nodded, “Yeah. Have fun, ok? I’ll call you if something goes wrong.” 

“Alright,” he said, not understanding why he felt his heartbeat quicken in anxiety. In a few short moments, he was leaving and making his way back to his truck. 

His heart still raced and Lorcan couldn’t figure out why. The only time he had felt like that was… around Elide. That morning, when Malakai said Elide was here, his heart had raced and he’d nearly dropped what he’d been holding. 

That was why he was even going on this stupid thing. To move on, from something that didn’t feel like he should’ve had to move on from. Him and Elide hadn’t even been together. At all. Shaking his head to dispel his spiralling thoughts, Lorcan turned on the ignition and drove off, making his way to The Willows. 

He parked a few blocks away and decided to walk to the restaurant. During his walk, his phone pinged and he pulled it out, smiling down at the image of Kohana that Fenrys had texted him. His son was smiling widely as he looked up at something, his eyes bright. His heart tightened at the pure and true joy on Ko’s face.

There was a soft smile that stayed on his lips as he opened the tinted glass door of the restaurant and walked inside, carefully making his way around the people waiting to get to the hostess’ stand.

The blonde woman waiting smiled semi-gently. It was very obviously her retail smile, the one she pasted on for customers. “Hi, there. Do you have a reservation with us?” 

“Yeah, Marama for 8:30?” 

She nodded, looking harried as she scanned over a list and nodded, “Alright, come this way.” The woman told him about the set menu and showed him to an intimate table out in the greenhouse portion of the restaurant. He had to admit – it was beautiful. Glancing upwards, he saw the star-spotted sky behind the glass roof. 

Greenery surrounded them, all sorts of creeping vines and lush greenlife. Lorcan thanked the woman and unbuttoned his jacket as he sat. 

It was all going to be fine. It was just dinner. Easy, simple. Nothing to worry about. 

He told himself that over and over for the next five minutes, his knee bouncing up and down uncontrollably. When he realized, he suppressed the urge to fidget, but it just came out as him drumming the beat of some punk song he’d used to play often at that old grungy club. 

Then, he heard a familiar voice – smoky and delicate and sultry all at once. He almost didn’t believe it and looked over. Lorcan’s eyes landed on a gorgeous person, their truly sinful curves wrapped in a black dress that hit mid-thigh, showcasing the black ink on their fair skin. His gaze travelled up their body, catching on the tattoos on their… collarbones. Laurel wreaths.

Oh, he was going to fucking murder the Marama-Ytgers.

+*+*+*+*+*+*

an: i would say im sorry for the cliffhanger...but im really not 🥰

also! i use Xhosa for Eyllwe! Translations: 

Malaika: Angel

Mholo: Hello 

@mythicaitt​​ @tinywolfofeyllwe​​ @schmlip-scribble​​ @the-regal-warrior​​ @empire-of-wildfire​​ @rhysands-highlady​​ @shyvioletcat​​ @alifletcher2012​​ @ttakeitbacknoww​​ @tswaney17​​ @ourbooksuniverse​​ @flora-and-fae​​ @thesirenwashere​​ @queenofxhearts​ @maastrash​ @mynewdreamwasyou​ @cursebreaker29​ @superspiritfestival​ @empress-ofbloodshed​ @queen-of-glass​ @sleeping-and-books​ @beccasophia95​ @exersize-me-i-dare-u​ @thewayshedreamed​ @hizqueen4life​ @ifinallygavein​ @bat-wing-rhys​ @awkward-avocado-s​ @b00kworm​ @mu-si-ca-l​ @lovemollywho​ @tacmc​ @soitsgorgeous​ @staarligght​

[thorne93]

The Stars Made Us (Part 27)

Prompt: In this world, you’re one of the “lucky” ones who got a soulmate, but what if the universe gives you more than you bargained for?

(Prompt challenge – You live in a world where your soulmate can write on their skin and you will get the writing on your own and vice versa. Where they can wash away the ink on their own skin, however, the writing is forever scarred onto your skin until you meet face to face)

Word Count: 1722

Warnings: angst and language throughout, seizure/medical complications

Notes: This was supposed to be for @sorryimacrapwriter​​​​  and their challenge like a year ago, I think? I still loved the prompt though and have been working on this story for quite some time. This aesthetic was made by @dontshootmespence​ thank you so much! Beta’d by @like-a-bag-of-potatoes​​​​​, couldn’t have done it without you, as well as @carryonmyswansong​​​​​ and @arrow-guy​​​​​ and @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​​​​

Also, I’ve never really liked the whole soulmate AU thing idea, but this felt so right and it was amazing to write. I hope y’all love it too!!

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

Charles got you up to your shared bedroom, getting you laid down on the bed as he laid down behind you, wrapping his arm around your waist and kissing your shoulder. 

You weren't sure if he'd read your mind yet, but it didn't matter seeing as you couldn't speak anyway. 

The sobbing continued for another few hours before you fell asleep from exhaustion. You didn't have anything that replenished your loss of blood. You were still wearing the outfit that had been torn up. When you finally woke up, it was late night, after midnight. 

Charles was still awake, waiting to see if you were alright. 

"Darling?" he softly addressed. "My love? Are you okay? What happened?" 

"Doctor Stephen Strange happened," you informed angrily. "Have you already read my mind?"

"You know I never do that purposefully," he reminded gently as he delicately put your hair behind your ear. You were on your side, facing the large windows of the bedroom, with him behind you, propped up on one elbow. 

You rolled over to see him. You wanted to see his fantastic face. 

"It's so good to see you," you breathed, reaching up to stroke his face with your hand. He peered down at you lovingly, but with concern.

"What happened to your leg?" he wondered. 

"I was stabbed. Some form of mystical, evil, magic. Stephen and I accidentally got caught in a mystical war..." 

"That... I'm sorry, what?" he asked, alarm in his voice. 

You waved him off. "It's fine. He killed one guy, we stranded the other woman. But the other guy, he did this to me." You rotated your leg and he looked at it. 

"My god. You nearly lost your leg." 

You nodded. 

"That's not the pain that hurts though," you informed. 

He lied down next to you, still in his suit.

"You didn't change," you noted.

"Of course not. I couldn't bear to leave you in this state." He gave you a soft smile. "If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine. I don't want to push you." 

You shook your head. "That's not it." 

"What is it, then?" 

You looked at him and sighed before going into the whole story. You explained everything in detail from the day you arrived to getting on the plane. Charles listened intently, trying to keep everything straight. 

"So he just... he sent you back to the temple after telling you to get out of his life?" 

You nodded. 

"Charles... it hurts so bad. It's almost as bad as when I thought you were dead. How could he do that to me?" 

He shook his head. "I don't know, my love. I've loved you for a very, very long time, and we didn't even meet. He had almost a year with you. He's your other mate. I honestly don't know how he could turn you away." 

You nodded. 

"But hey," he tried, his finger trailing your cheek as tears quietly poured from your eyes. Your eyes shifted to look at him. "I love you, you know that right? And while I wish he didn't break your heart, I am so happy to have you home." 

"I know," you said with a smile. "I'm so happy to be home, to see you again. I've missed you so much." You pulled him down to you, to give him a firm kiss. "Also, I have a concussion," you informed.

"Never a dull moment, hmm?" he teased before booping your nose ever so gently with his index finger before laughing. "I suggest we get rest, and then in the morning, we get you a proper shower, hmm?" 

"What about work?"

"You come before everything else, always. You know this. I'm clearing my day. It's the least I can do for you, after everything you do for everyone else." 

"Thank you, Charles. I have no idea what I'd do without you."

"Perish the thought, love, perish the thought." He smiled at you before the two of you got ready for bed and slipped into a deep sleep. 

-----------------------------

The next morning, Hank and Charles treated you to breakfast. 

Charles kept it to himself that at this point, he hated Stephen. It had nothing to do with the fact that you lived with him for several months. Or how hard you had to work to get in his life. 

No, he resented him because Charles knew how much you loved him, and he threw it away. He broke your heart. He could forgive everything. Even if Stephen ultimately stole you away from Charles -- at least you were happy.

But this? Treating you so horribly after everything you'd done? No. That was absolutely unacceptable in his eyes. 

"Do you need anything, love?" Charles asked as he eyed you sipping your coffee, barely touching the food on your plate. Hank looked at you then at Charles, his face concerned. 

"No, I'm fine." You took a deep breath before looking at the two men. "Really. I'll be okay. There is no point in moping about this. I need to get back to work anyway. I'll be in your office if that's alright, darling?" you asked, getting up from the table. 

"Of course, whatever you need." 

He grabbed your hand as you walked by and gently squeezed. You squeezed it back and went on your way. You got your suitcase full of work related items into the office, closed the door, and started to set your things up. But then the darkness closed in. The sorrow wrapped you in a tight cocoon. And you couldn't for the life of you, get out of it.

How could he throw eight months away? As if it were nothing? He opened up to you. He was starting to really believe in you two. And now... you were nothing to him. 

Tears wracked your body as you held your face, trying to keep your sobbing volume low so you wouldn't alert the others. But it was hard. 

Meanwhile, Charles looked defeated in the kitchen as he rested his elbow on the table and put his hand to his mouth.

"I don't know what to do, Hank," he confessed. "She's so broken-hearted."

"Why did he do that to her?" Hank asked. "From what I'd heard from you two, things were fine." 

"They were. She explained it all to me, and I can't quite put it together either." 

"So, what are you going to do?" 

"I have no idea. Support her I suppose, and never mention his name again. That will be easy. I just have to try not to mention how much I loathe the man." 

Hank nodded. He knew his friend well enough to understand what he meant. Even Hank was feeling a bit of animosity towards Strange for breaking you like this. 

----------------

After Stephen had defeated Dormammu, he worked with Wong to get him set up properly at the New York sanctum. He had realized that he could save lives doing what he did there, being a Master of the Mystic Arts. He was surprisingly okay with this and accepted his new form of work. 

"Where is Y/N?" Wong asked as he got to work, helping Stephen clean up the sanctum.

"Gone," he replied casually.

"Odd. She isn't the type to leave. Especially you. What happened?" 

Stephen looked to Wong. "You're never a talker, and now suddenly you won't shut up about Y/N?"

"What can I say? I liked her. She made you bearable." 

"Thanks," he muttered. 

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" Wong pressed. 

"Nothing to tell. She was here. Now she's not. She was in the way." 

"Yes, because she seemed like a true inconvenience when she was helping you train and learn."

"Sarcasm now? Fantastic. Look, she has her life to lead. I have mine. She has Charles, her other mate. She's fine and I'm better off without her."

Wong stared at him, eyeing him while he cleaned. He knew he wasn't telling the whole truth but getting emotions out of Stephen Strange was like pulling teeth. 

-----------------------

"Care for a game?" Charles asked as he walked up to you in the library. A fire was going, as fall was in full swing. He gestured to the chess board next to you. He thought he'd find you reading and was a bit surprised that you were just staring into the fire. 

"What? Hmm, oh, sure," you said, adjusting your seat to the chess table between the two seats. He sat opposite of you, eyeing you.

How he desperately wanted to break his vow to you and get inside your head, but he couldn't. He shouldn't. He cared about you too much to violate your privacy, but he also cared about you too much not to.

Ultimately, he remained steadfast and decided to not breach your mind. He didn't ever want to disrespect you like that. 

He watched you play the game, feeling so powerless. It'd been two weeks since you'd arrived back at the mansion and you were clearly putting up a front. Sure you smiled, laughed, and got back into the swing of things quickly, but when the others weren't looking, your face would fall, you'd get a far off look in your eyes. Charles heard you crying in the shower on more than one occasion. 

He hated that he couldn't do anything for you. But what could you do for someone with a broken heart? Nothing. The pain would have to ride itself out. Much like grief, there was no getting around it.

But this wasn't some summer fling.

This was a soulmate you'd lost, one you weren't sure you'd ever get back. 

But you remembered how incredibly blessed and lucky you were to have two mates. Never before seen in the history of the world. 

So you tried your best to push Stephen Strange from your mind, and focus on the epitome of perfection that sat across from you, playing chess. And you knew him, and you knew he was fighting his powers to read your mind. You knew he wanted to help. You could see him mentally scrambling to find ways to cheer you up and distract you, and you loved him all the more for it. 

Both of you were painfully aware that this was something not even a soulmate could fix.

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

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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 :)

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