#billie eilish x male reader

[teaaagan]

Smart

Y/N: Smart is attractive. Educate me on something I don't know!

Billie: The mouth of a jellyfish is also an anus.

Y/N: Stop.

[emotionalblues]

paring: billie eilish x male!reader

faceclaim: vinnie hacker

summary: proof that delusion works (sometimes)

a/n: this is a rewrite of an au that I wrote on @c-cardigan but I forgot my login info, so til found my login stuff, I'll be rewriting my posts on this account!!

July 28, 2022

y/ndaily

liked by yourinstagram and 4,536 others

y/ndaily y/n revealed that his celebrity crush is billieeilish on stream

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username no because they compliment each other so fucking well

username OMFG YOUR SO RIGHT

yourinstagram WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU TAG HER!?!?

username give this man a chance billieeilish

username me too…youre not special

yourinstagram

liked by billieeilish and 4,483,817 others

yourinstagram show me love

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username billie liking his post after him saying she's his crush-

username pretty boy

username NOT HER LIKING

username 9 times out of 10 he's freaking out rn

August 5, 2022

billieupdates

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billieupdates billie seen with y/n l/n, dylan minnette, and finneas at the la premiere of “I love my dad” last night!

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username he's hot, she's hot.. its a win win

username honestly better than all her exes if they have something going on

username he needs to get away from her!!

username proof being delusional works

billieeilishtours

liked by username and 17,629 others

billieeilishtours billie and y/n out in new york

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username she was visiting me guys don't worry

username forever will be jealous of y/n

username billie get behind me

username I genuinely hope he makes her happy

username dude same I've seen so many people hating on the relationship and y/n for no reason

username hottest couple of the year

username not a couple but okay

username didn't ask but okay

yourinstagram

liked by finneas and 5,726,017 others

yourinstagram NEW YORK NEW YORK

comments disabled

billieeilish

liked by yourinstagram and 6,252,633 others

billieeilish 🌟🥰🌟

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username OBSESSING OVER THE VIDEO

yourinstagram little aesthetic lady

billieeilish 🫵

username sooo you and y/n???

[billiesbossanovas]

MVP

Chapter two

Part one here

When y/n gets home, he's greeted by the jingle of a small bell asking side a small patter of paws in the floor, he looks done and sees a small white cat running over to him, y/n crouches down and picks the ball of fur up "hey buddy" he smiles as the cat purrs and rubs his head against y/ns chest. He walks with the cat and sits on the couch, buddy sitting contently on his lap purring softly y/n puts his head back and pets the cat softly.

The living room is the perfect temperature, not to warm not to cold, it doesn't take long for him to doze off on the couch, his head back and buddy in his lap sends him straight to sleep.

It's off when he wakes up, there's a blanket been placed over him and his position has changed to laying down, he holds onto the blanket and pushes it off him. It's not one he owns. "What the hell.." he mumbles as he sits up, his shoes are next to the sofa neatly. There's an envelope addressed to him on the coffee table. He attaches his head and grabs the envelope, carefully opening it and unfolding the letter inside.

You should really lock your door before you fall asleep love.. and your windows..

It must've have been from the perp. "What-? Windows-?" He looks over to see his living room window wide open. "Buddy- buddy!?" He calls out for the cat as he stands up and shuts the window before frantically looking around the house, within the madness of looking around the house he forgets to take in the fact the house has been cleaned and organised with multiple letters dotted around the small house.

He goes through every room, looking for buddy everywhere, the rooms are ripped apart looking for his cat, he sits on the floor of the bedroom, no cat in sight, anywhere. He spots a note on the bed, he opens it.

If you want your furry friend back you'll have to meet me for him.

That letter signed with a heart. He ripped the letter up and let out a shout of rage. He sat on his knees, slightly slumped over and stared at the mess he'd created in his bedroom. He picks up his phone and calls one of his friends, someone he'd known from his childhood.

She arrived only fifteen minutes later, he stood up from the couch, the house a mess from him searching for buddy. “I’m so glad you’re here Claudia” He engulfed her in a hug. "There's a phsyco after me" he mumbles as he pulls away, he holds onto her arms, "she took buddy." Claudia sighs and gives him a kiss on his forehead.

He fills her in on the situation, about the murders, the case, the whole situation that had just happened, how strange it all was. She just nods along and watches him intently how exhausted he looks with everything. "God you poor thing.. do you think there's more letters about the house? If she'd cleaned up maybe she left more?" She asks as she moves hair out of his face, looking at him as if he's a kicked puppy.

"Yeah.. yeah maybe.." he nods and stands up, suddenly noticing how sweaty his hands are, he rubs them off on his trousers before turning to the woman. "You look upstairs I'll look in the rest of the rooms down here." She nods in agreement and goes to the stairs.

"We'll figure this out y/n, don't stress" she gives him a sympathetic smile before turning around heading up the stairs. He lets out a breath through his nose and walks into the kitchen. The only sound is the soft pat of his feet on the cold tile floor as he looks around, he finds a note on the fridge.

You need to eat more, you can't live off of tv dinners every night love

He opens the fridge to find it stocked with vegetables, fruit, even his favourite drinks, how could someone get in, and clean in house without him waking up? With bags of food nonetheless. A small "What?" Is all he can manage out to himself, he then opens the freezer, its stocked with homemade meals frozen in Tupperware, he closes it and grabs the bite off the fridge. Confusion radiates his brain, he's thinking of any and every possibility this could have been done without him waking up. Spiked? Only possible if he drank something before he fell asleep. But he didn't, the only thing he could come up with was because of the pure exhaustion that took over his body as soon as his body hit the couch, after all he hadn't slept properly in weeks due to the case.

After searching he finds notes with no information that can help the case. Claudia comes back downstairs with a few envelopes in her hands, she gives him them, watching closely as he reads them, it's nothing more than reprimanding him for his lack of looking after himself, he sighs, getting ready to pick up his phone and call the chief, until he gets to the last one.

Don't bother telling your boss, or anyone else you work with, if anyone hears so much of a whisper of what I've done today, you can plan a funeral for your little furball

He rips the letters up and lets out a sound of frustration before throwing the ripped paper onto the coffee table. He slumps back into the couch, Claudia rubbing the back of his neck with her thumb affectionately. "Wow.. so what now?" She asks softly, watching him intently, looking for any sign of an emotion other than anger.

"Nothing. Absolutely nothing- I- I can't tell anyone- what if telling you puts buddies life at risk?" He asks leaning forward "what if this had put you in danger!?" He looks up at her. She shushes him, and pulls him into a tight hug, holding him tight against her chest.

“You stress too much.” She mumbles softly as she rubs his back affectionately. “Don’t overthink this sweetie, everything will work out fine in the end.” She rests her head ontop of his and holds him in the embrace.

He sighs against her and holds onto her as-well, his hands holding onto her back, clutching into the back of her jacket. “I don’t know what I’d do without you Claudia” he mumbles in an affectionate way, his body starting to relax after he speaks.

“Hey, ..hey, it’s okay” she smiles at him as he pulls away from her. “I can stay here for a few nights if you want? My boyfriends out of town anyway” she offers him, he knows she wouldn’t really be able to defend him if anything where to happen anyway, but appreciates the offer, he nods accepting it, the company would be nice, comforting even after everything he’d gone through today.

That night Claudia orders them both take out, they sit on the couch and watch old movies before turning in for the night, he offers to sleep in the couch so Claudia can have the bed, after five minutes of arguing, she gives in and takes his bed. “Good night” he calls up the stairs before she disappears down the hall way, she shouts a good night back. Y/n tries to convince himself he’s sleeping in the couch to keep Claudia safe, but in the back of his mind, he knows really, he wants to try and catch who ever is stalking him.

Claudia settles in for the night, she sits up and puts a sitcom on the tv just before her phone rings on the bedside table, she picks it up. It reads an unknown number, one not saved in her phone, she answer the call confused, but as soon as she hears the voice in the other side she smiles to herself as they speak to her. She’s quick to give them an answer.

“Don’t worry, I’ll have eyes on him for a few days for you, he’ll be ready for you”

—

Don’t think this one’s as good as the first one lowkey-

[natgf123]

Me when I see (a girl I'm obsessed with) x male!reader

[dollarbils]

male fantasy | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

context. when you encounter your ex girlfriend, an awkward moment turns into something more, and you both begin to rethink your decision to end things.

warnings. angst kinda, fluff

masterlist

cool wind fanned your face as your stride lead you through the streets of the Gloria Molina park. the faint jingle of your dog’s collar indicating which way you’d go next, as her small little being told you which direction to walk in. you weren’t focused on her, or your surroundings. instead, engrossed in the discussion you were having with your mom over text.

“fuck, i’m so sorry.” you hadn’t been looking at where you were going, and a sudden bark made you look up before you slammed into a girl with black hair. you wouldn’t have recognised her so quickly, had it not been for her dogs bark. a dog that had been all too familiar, and who’d obviously recognised you.

“shark.” it was quiet, but she’d heard it from above, observing how her dog circled your legs in excitement. your gaze lifted to her, and she gave you a weak smile, waiting for you to say something more.

“billie, wow. it’s been a while.” you said, interrupted by both dogs jumping when they’d spotted each other.

“yeah, shark’s obviously glad, he definitely missed you.” she chuckled somewhat awkwardly.

“how long has it been?” you pondered, trying to make conversation with the girl.

“since we broke up, 3 years i’d say?” a mumble followed her words as you considered how unbelievable it’d been that you hadn’t crossed paths in 3 years.

“so how are you?” when neither of you made a move to exit the awkward conversation in any way, you decided you might as well ask.

“uh, good, yeah i’ve been good. how about you?” her expression was sincere as she distracted herself with the handle of shark’s leash.

“same here.” the silence that followed was uncomfortable, as you held eye contact but didn’t speak. her features were unchanged, except slightly matured, but the familiarity was still present.

“look, this is weird ‘cause i’ve been caught off guard but we should talk more, i’ve missed you.” she was the one to break the ice, as both of you then slowly eased into each others presence.

“yeah, i’d love that.” she made a move for your phone, unlocking it due to the fact you hadn’t changed the password, and entering in her phone number.

“i also feel like we should really talk, we never got any kind of closure.” your relationship had ended in a haze of messy tears and headaches, you hadn’t talked it out mutually.

“like right now?” she laughed shaking her head, amused at your widened eyes.

“no, no. just call me. okay?” she smiled and you nodded, waving her a goodbye as she walked in the opposite direction. you watched her leave and she looked back, quickly meeting your eyes before you turned your head.

‘i got a call from a girl i used to know’

“hey, is this billie?” your voice filled her ear, confirming that your encounter had been a reality.

“yeah it’s me, i’m glad you called.” her tone was sweet, inviting. as if she’d gotten comfortable talking to you again.

“yeah?” that was still somewhat of a shock, you momentarily cursed yourself for letting her back into your life, unsure as to if this was a good idea.

“i was going to ask you if you’d want to come over for coffee or something?” your answer should be no.

“of course, i’d love that.” you found yourself speaking before having thought rationally about it.

“great! how’s friday?” she was audibly excited.

“perfect.”

‘we were inseparable years ago’

“hi, come in.” her voice eased the nerves that were upsetting your stomach, as you walked into her house. she’d moved out of her previous one, and you hadn’t been here before.

“i made you some tea, since you’ve never been a huge coffee person.” you smiled, grateful for the thought.

“thank you.” she lead you to the couch, and you both settled down, facing each other as you pulled your legs to your body.

“sorry for being so cold yesterday, i was just surprised to see you.” you sipped the tea, as you spoke.

“no worries, it was definitely a surprise for me too.” she chewed her lip as she looked at you.

“you’ve changed, you look older. in a good way.” she cracked a smile before responding.

“it’s the fact i haven’t got obnoxiously colored roots.” you laughed at her criticism of the famous hair colours.

“i loved the roots.” she raised an eyebrow.

“which colour?” she took her bottom lip underneath her tongue as she waited for a reply.

“all of them, especially green though.” that was the hair she’d had when you’d been with her, it would always be nostalgic.

“i remember bleaching my hair after we broke up, i thought it would help me get over you.” she chuckled.

“did it?” she shook her head.

“i’m sorry, billie, for the way things ended.” she frowned slightly, remembering the events of your breakup.

“i’m sorry too, you never really got an explanation.” she sighed, taking your hands in hers as she spoke honestly.

“so.. why did you break up with me?” she took a deep breath before speaking.

“i felt unloved. i know it sounds stupid. but i didn’t feel like i was your girlfriend.” you nodded, trying to understand her words as she continued.

“our love felt like a male fantasy.” she whispered.

“what do you mean?” the term had confused you in this context.

“as if you didn’t love me romantically, i felt like your friend and not your girlfriend.” her brows were furrowed, expressing her emotions.

“i’m so sorry, billie.” she stayed silent, not fully accepting the apology.

“do you still..” she trailed off, wondering if she even wanted an answer.

“i don’t know if i ever got over you, i guess i pretended i was. i really tried to hate you.” she found the comment amusing, smiling brightly.

“thank god.” she looked down, smiling to herself before returning to meet your eyes.

“hm?” you questioned.

“i still love you now.” she took your face in her hands as you squeezed her knee.

“me too,” her smile was as bright as ever, “I’ll make sure I don’t screw up this time.” you were giggling against her lips.

‘knew we’d get along, and it was so.’

[billieeilishshusband]

Summary: Finneas gets a call from you while your drunk he can't pick you up so he gets his sister to. You always loved Billie.

It was dark outside i actually could barely see anything. The lights outside done nothing to help me figure out where i had been walking. I had ditched a party half a hour ago to walk home, but it was unlikely i was getting home, that was over a hour walk and i couldn't even tell where i was. I pulled out my phone, forgetting i had actually had it in my pocket, it was 2:13AM, and my phone was nearly dead. My hand quickly tried to move around to go to contacts and phone the only person i would know who would be awake right now. I listened to the phone ringing and when i nearly put my phone away i heard a deep, quick "Hello?" Finneas picked up. "Can you come get meee" I drained out the 'e' in the me. He sighed before speaking "I can't but i can get Billie to, send your locations okay?" I hummed in response to his answer.

I sent my locations and waited by the lamp post, spinning around it. After spinning around a few times i threw up on the side of the road. It wasn't as long as i thought she would take to see her car coming up and slowing down. I smiled seeing her headlights coming up. She stopped opening her door and looking at me. "Hey, YN you okay?" I smiled seeing her pretty face, she looked a bit worried. She took her arm out and put it around me. Pushing me to the car opening the passager side door and helping me in. "Thank youuuuu Billieee" I said smiling while hiccups formed from my mouth, i giggled at my own hiccup. "Are you okay?" She questioned her jet-black curly hair messy, she clearly was about to or had been asleep. "Yeah...I'm glad i got to see your pretty f-face" I hiccupped mid way into the setence. She chuckled and took a quick look at me before turning back to face the window to look at the road. "Thank you YN it's good to see your pretty face too." I chuckled at her pretty words. I loved everything about him.

We had finally gotten to hers because i couldn't give good enough direactions to my house and she felt safer me staying at hers. She helped me get out of the car and opened up the door to her house, she helped me take off my shoes and jacket. She helped me get upstairs to her bedroom and she lifted me into the bed, while she was putting my jacket down and taking off her shoes and jacket i started stripping down my clothes which was normal for me to do when going to sleep, i had disappeared the fact that Billie was even in the room until she turned around saw me sat in my boxers flopping down on the bed. I had went to the wrong way on the bed taking both sides of the bed, she gently shock me "You need to move baby" She whispered. I put my arm out and she took it in her hand "Come on baby" She said as i sat up and moved to the left side of the bed. She helped me get under the covers before getting changed quickly, coming out only in shorts and t-shirt. She went to the ride side of the bed.

She turned to face you "Night YN" She smiled. I smiled at her back, she turned around quickly before closing her eyes. I pulled my arms around her. Using her breasts as support to make sure my hands don't fall. "I love you billie" I whispered falling asleep

[chrissv4mp]

how im feeling most of the time🙁

dont EVER play this song around me you'll never wanna be with me again💔

[x4nnybils]

real shit

[pigeonneaux]

So glad the lesbians took over the Billie Eilish tag, because before Hit me Hard and Soft came out, all you could see in the tag was 1) weird IA softcore porn edits 2) paparazzi pictures and weird inappropriate screenshots 3) conspiracy theories????

[teaaagan]

Leaf

Finneas: Why is Billie crying?

Y/N: She saw a leaf on the sidewalk and-

Billie: IT LOOKED SO CRUNCHY!

Finneas: Please don’t say what I think you’re gonna say-

Billie: AND WHEN I STEPPED ON IT THERE WAS NO CRUNCH!

Finneas: NO, NOT THAT!

[strboyrion]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄. ♡︎

𝐛𝐥𝐤!𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐛𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐞𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐡.

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄. ♡︎

11 years ago.

"Ay? Y/N? Wake up, boy. Wash your face, brush your teeth. You got school." The boy woke up to the voice of his mother. Despite being seven, he restrained from swatting her hand from his face. She lightly slapped his cheek, her brown skin contrasting nicely in the dim light of the singular dying orange light bulb in his lamp.

"Yes, ma'am.." He mumbled tiredly, rubbing his eyes, stumbling out of bed, out of the door and into the bathroom, where he went to do as told. His mother stayed behind to get clothes for him, as one did at this age when your momma still dressed you.

"M/N?" His father, the tired man, called from the hall as he walked into the room. "Yeah?" She replied, pulling a long sleeve shirt and a plaid patterned shirt to go over it out of the closet. Putting it on the bed and closing the door, deciding it would be best if there was as much wall between their conversation and their son as possible. It seemed most of their conversations these days were financial.

"I... I lost one of my jobs today." The man said. The blow could've been softened, but he was never one to play around. A trait his son inherited from him. M/N didn't get a chance to answer F/N. "Listen, I know, but we don't got the money to stay here. And I don't know how to tell him that, so I ask that while I figure this out for us. That you do, please?" F/N had a begging kind of look in his eyes as he spoke.

"Duck-" Y/N's mother began to refuse. Using the tactic of calling him by his nickname instead of just hitting him with a, 'Nigga no!' But Y/N walked in the room and F/N flashed M/N a smile, shrugging and hugging the boy. Also wishing him a good day at school.

He had to leave for his next shift at his other job anyway. "Wife." He smiles at her one last time, kissing her on the cheek and walking out of Y/N's door. "Bye, dad.." Y/N mumbled after him. Slipping his first shirt over his head, just barely hearing as his mother called his father a 'fuck nigga?' Whatever that is.

He pulled the second shirt over his head, and his jeans on. His mom walked out after that, figuring he could put on a pair of Converse or Nikes without assistance. She was correct, he pulled the black ones on and tied them. Brushing his hair in the mirror only for a minute before grabbing his backpack. "Jr.!" He heard his mother call for him. And saw that as a cue to leave his room. He walked out, hands in his pockets.

🔫 ♫ ◷ ♫ 🔫

Billie was awake already. But when her mother walked into her room and flicked that bright white light on, she still managed to hiss sure she was awake but just barely. She groaned and turned away. But smiled and giggled as Maggie, her mother, gave her a hug.

"Morning." They said to each other, as Maggie helped her daughter out of bed. The blonde child, clearly much more enthusiastic to be up. The girl's mother walked out of the room afterwards, leaving her daughter to whatever she did. The girl also picked out a choice of clothes surprisingly not all that different from Y/N.

Of course, she didn't know it at this point in time, she would soon. She took care of herself and her hygiene in the bathroom and went back to her room. Getting dressed. Putting the clothes on, shoes, and heading downstairs.

"Finneas?" She stopped by her older brother's room. Finneas was his name. Her ocean blue eyes searched his room, the sun shining through an open window. "Jesus.." She mumbled, but continued searching his room carefully. Finneas was tall and a ginger boy, so you'd think he'd stand out anywhere. But in reality, he was good at hiding in plain sight.

"Shit!" She whispered in shock as he popped up in front of her suddenly. "What?" His jaw nearly dropped, as he laughed. "Nah, what did you'd say?" She shrugged him off. Walking away, towards the door, a banana in her hand. As she waited for her dad to drive them to school. He came not long after.

"Hey kids." She heard him, feeling a hand pat her shoulder. Watching as his other hand rested on her brothers. "You ready?" They nodded at him. And walked out the door. Walking down the thin stairs in front of their house, and into a fairly nice car.

20 minutes later.

Y/N walked into his elementary school, thoughts of every tune in his head from that morning's walk replaying. His thoughts were soon replaced by thoughts of simple mathematics, and grasping the concept of grammar. He liked grammar more. He understood it better he felt, words seemed to flow in class, he could read faster than your average little black boy.

But none of that would help in recess, and this was something he understood fine as he watched his other classmates stumble over big words. Well, not the little blonde girl he called his friend. It'd been that way since kindergarten. If anything she was better than him, but- oh wait, it's..

"Recess!"

He zoned back into class, feeling a few pairs of eyes on him.

He hadn't realized he was reading out loud. Nevermind now, it was back on the streets, time to go trade marbles. He collected his stuff, waving at Billie, the blonde he was thinking of earlier, and shoved his bag of marbles in his pocket. Walking out the door that led into the wood chip-covered area they called their playground in the back. Y/N felt unbothered by all the children running around.

"Ducky, wait up!" He heard his nickname from behind him. "YAH?" He turned around innocently, not expecting a hug from his friend. The very hug that damn near knocked him off his feet. "Ahoy, Pirate." He patted her back, holding their position for a moment before pulling back. "Race me to the swings?" Marble gambling could wait, their annual race was more important. He smiled at her as she nodded, and he took his place. "On your mark..."

After School.

"Jr.!" Y/N heard the sound of his mothers voice. He looked up from the bench where he sat with a book, and smiled at her. "Let's go." She said, as he grabbed his backpack and started walking towards her. Looking around as he did.

His school was in a place where Compton and LA met. Where you could see where bluer skies ended and grayer skies started. I'm sure you can decide for yourself which is which, and he knew where he lived was very different from that blue skied paradise.

Compton, was known more for gang warfare and niggas in alleyways selling drugs. That's what he called home. LA? It was composed of a bunch of dreamers, and movie stars. Occasionally, a homie from Compton would end up over there. Y/N doubted it would be him, maybe he would pass it on the way to college though. His parents were quite set on that, or hey would be at least if they had the money. But Y/N knew nothing of that fact, until... 5 minutes from now?

As he reached his mother, he took her hand, and she took his small backpack. She usually carried it for him while they walked home. "Jr.?" It didn't take him long to get enthralled in thoughts again. To which, she called his name to shake him from. "Y/N." He snapped his head towards her. "Yes, ma'am?" He mumbled, noticing as his mother slowed her pace. Seeing as she stopped walking as fast, the slight bounce that was in the small boy's step was gone now.

"So... your daddy and I, we have been talking about moving. And we think we'll like it a bit more south..." This explanation was very vague, but it's okay, luckily for my sanity you're not stupid. And you knew...

𝐘/𝐍 knew that he would be moving deeper into Compton. More niggas in alleyways, more Pirus and Crips, more cocaine and weed. But what did he know about any of that? He's 7. So he nodded, any attachment he had to the home disappearing in moments. He would soon learn that attachment was strong. And it would only get when you were holding up gang signs out car windows at 9.

1 month Later; School.

Y/N walked into school, a pair of white forces on with a matching shirt and a simple pair of jeans. He sat down in a seat, watching as the time went by and the other kids filtered in. However, it went faster than he could ever imagine, as his thoughts couldn't seem to keep up anymore. He was knocked out of his trance; of which he was in trying to remember yesterday's material by Billie.

"So where have you been?" She whispered, sitting next to him. She usually doesn't. She preferred sitting a bit closer to the board, so she could see better. He was the opposite, sitting in the very back.

"Uh-I don't know..? Here?" He answered partially confused. Her question didn't make much sense. Well he supposed it did. But he was avoiding her on purpose; to avoid the fact he wouldn't see her anymore. So to compensate he took the question very literally, but to be entirely honest, he hadn't technically been there.

He'd skipped their races most days. They didn't talk anywhere near as often. And he felt the need to apologize, but he wouldn't. He couldn't be convinced, except truthfully he could, but she wouldn't try. They were equally stubborn and it was likely she would try to ignore him for the rest of class.

But she couldn't.. she approached him, angry. "Don't do that." She mumbled, shoving him slightly. "Billie, I'm moving." He mumbled back, finally averting his E/C eyes from where they were fixed on the desk. And then the bell rang, and the teacher began writing things on the board. Y/N was quick to follow. Putting his composition notebook in front of him and writing vigorously.

Billie only nodded and did the same, "Fine." she said, holding back a scoff and perhaps some sour words as she wrote less enthusiastically. "Just bury a friend then..." she whispered to herself, but he could hear fine. He felt bad, but didn't question her.

There wasn't anything he could do about any type of circumstance. He was told he would be homeschooled anyway. And as far as he knew, that meant he would be bought as many books as they could afford and told to go crazy. He was satisfied with this. Soon the recess bell rang. It made him wonder at what point writing what he heard but did not comprehend, became automatic? Now, apparently.

Though what use was that skill, he didn't need it anymore. All he needed to know was how many bullets are in a clip-

"Around 10." And here he was, giving up all his marbles. Now, listen very closely, these were worth something. And if you looked at all the other kids' marbles. Few had something worth anything, so those with were the ones he targeted. The others, he pushed aside.

Derek, had more than a few end of day marbles. Those could be worth thousands of dollars in USD. But Derek was known for being a dumbass, it was likely he'd take a deal of more regular marbles for just 3 of those. "Hey, D? I'll give you these for 3 of those." Y/N holds out some regular old marbles and points at Derek's end of day marbles.

Derek didn't think twice and handed them over. Walking away before Y/N could change his mind, not that he would. The H/C boy looked to his next victim, slipping the marbles in his pocket. He had 4 more to trade. He wanted to leave with at least 5. "What's good?" He mumbled, he'd never noticed this person. Never bothered. But they did have a few Lutz marbles.

He picked up the rest of his marbles, Recess was almost over. "Here. I can get 2 of those?" He asked, pointing to them. The kid passed them over, and swiped the bag from him. Emptying the marbles into their pocket, and passing it back. "Later." Y/N walked away after that, going to find the girl he was probably never gonna see again.

He'd never wish she would venture into Compton, honest, ransom would be the first thought on half the minds of the people. "Ahoy!" Giddily, he finds her on a bench, and sits down next to her. "The hell do you want?" She huffs, and he hisses. "Uncalled for..." He mumbles, but pulls out the bag. Dropping the marbles in his hand inside of it, and holding it out.

Watching as she stared at it for a moment. Before he shook it. "My hands getting tired, take it."

He chuckled slightly, and dropped the bag. The blonde caught it. "Thanks." She wasn't mad anymore, just melancholic.

"Alright pay attention... This is called a Lutz marble," he picks one up. "You find the right one, that's worth up to $350." He continues explaining the values, and then he explains how he gambled, and then also how he 110% was a scammer. "They asked for it." He shrugged at his story when he was done, smiling as she leaned on him and laughed. "Dumbass."

After School.

"Guess this is goodbye, then." Y/N faces Billie on the sidewalk, his hand extended towards her. As her brother waited for her next to their fathers car. And her father looked at them confused through the window.

"Is it?" She said, but shook his hand anyway. Not letting go afterwards. It gave him a sense of foreshadowing, one he would ignore for now. As the two of them meeting again seemed impossible.

He was a good kid but... not in this mAAd city.

"I don't know.. probably." He mumbled back. Pulling her towards him and into a hug. He almost felt the need to cry, and as long as he knew her, she probably did too. "I'll miss you though..." He avoided eye contact, until he backed up.

Leaving her there, looking just a bit more melancholic than usual. He didn't want to blame himself for that, and she didn't blame him either. She walked over to the car, and he began the walk home on his own. Or the walk back to what was his home, his new home was...

Long Beach Blvd

2 Years Later

🔫 ♫ ◷ ♫ 🔫

A much taller Y/N who had somehow hit an early growth spurt, (though he was not done growing, say he was about ⅔ the height he would be at full maturity.) Stood in the corner of a sketchy street, a knife in his pocket. As he checked his clothes, and the people around him. 'Green... purple... red..' He saw niggas repping colors all around, and so he purposely wore white.

His father always made it clear he belonged to no gang but himself. Well, him and the homies. His 'brothers', who stood near him. Few of them were his own family.

His slightly younger cousin, just by a few months, Hykeem. Hykeem's older brothers, who were older than both of them, acted as supervisors. Travis, was the older one and 16; he was about 5'11, dreads, and his favorite thing to do was sell that um.. booger sugar. Not actually, but you'd think it would be how often he did it.

Destin, also 5'11, was Hykeem's 15 year old brother, now unlike his brother, surprisingly he didn't know much about cocaine or moving it. No, instead, Destin was more about the action. A pistol stayed in his pocket.

And no one could blame him for it, as Long Beach was one of the most dangerous streets in Compton. Though Y/N had to say, as dangerous as it was for all of its shootout, robbery, murderous glory. T'was a beautiful scene, and as the name suggested, there were a few beaches in the area.

"Y/N, you listenin' lil bro?" He was asked this by Jordan. Jordan wasn't related to them but he was a good friend, and reliable, he was also 16. Sad what happened to him. Y/N was never listening, not really. It felt as if he couldn't help it but at the same time it was almost like-

"Yeah, I'm hungry too, burgers?" Y/N looks at the other young men, who nod and stuff bandannas in their pockets. That's another strategy. Everyone carries a color, it's concealed until they get into some trouble with any sort of gang. Do believe it's saved Hykeem's ass more than once.

"'Keem, you got green hanging out your back pocket."

Destin mumbled to the kid, before walking away. Starting to walk across the street to where the burger stand where [ ɽɛɗɑɕᵼɛɗ ], usually hung around. He didn't see him though, it was a strange occurrence. So he called the rest of the boys over.

"Hey! Y'all c'mere real quick!" He said, causing the rest of the other guys, Y/N included, to hurry their walk to a run. "What?" Y/N uttered, looking around. "Hey, where's [ ɽɛɗɑɕᵼɛɗ ] at? Ain't that his spot over ther-?" The H/C boy pointed to the table outside the building where the man usually sat, but got cut off by gunshots. He ducked, pulling Hykeem down to his knees with him.

"Shit! Nigga get down!" He heard Travis yell, as just a few more rang out before they stopped.

Breathing heavily, Y/N looked around to see if

the culprit was anywhere near them. Sure enough, they had to be as the gunshots sounded close. But at least he could tell not on that side of the street, as it was mostly bare apart from women and small children.

Typically here, women were left out of whatever business they were doing, unless it was over them. If it was over them, sometimes the girl could potentially end up hurt too. "Y/N! Nigga break outta that shit we gotta go!" Travis hit his shoulder. "Let's go, we gotta see if someone got hurt blud..." Jordan helps him up, Destin helping Hykeem.

The group of 5 ran over to the other side of the street, around the building. However they halted half way. "Woah, nigga!" The two oldest brothers damn near screamed, there was blood on the sidewalk.

Traces of it really, and that's when Y/N saw it.

T'was out of the corner of his eye, and only for a split second. Inside of the burger joint, the way the light from the sun hit his eye changed for a second. Someone- whoever did it, had to have just walked in that motherfucker. He glanced over at it, searching it. All the employees probably hid in the back which meant whoever-.

He saw [ ɽɛɗɑɕᵼɛɗ ] crouching by a window looking at them through it, clutching a gun.

"Guys... we should just keep walking, you know 12 will be here soon, I ain't catching no offense." Y/N starts walking away, passing a light-skinned man on the floor with multiple shots through his body and head. And blood pooled around him.

"Ain't nothing but a Compton thang..." He reminded himself, shaking his head.

"Wonder what he did to deserve that." Hykeem joined him, and put an arm around his shoulder. Y/N shrugged, and answered. "I don't know man. Looks like syrup sandwiches though..." He didn't want any meat after that.

6 Years Later.

"Yo... Ion know about this man." Y/N sat in the backseat of a car. Hykeem was driving, this was the first bad sign. He barely had his learners permit, but his brothers were in the car so this was legal. Jordan sat in the front seat, searching through his phone for music. "Nigga, ain't nothing good to play." He put his phone down. From where Y/N could see, which was a lot from where he was in the middle of Travis and Destin. Who mostly stayed silent as they were higher than high. And still, continued to hotbox the car. Jordan was right, there wasn't shit to play.

"Shit- I guess we riding in silence." Y/N shrugged and sat back, putting his feet up on the armrest between the front seats. Putting his head back as well and closing his eyes. Inhaling second hand smoke, just another few minutes in this car and the 15 year old's eyes would be red. He didn't give a damn, he always reeked of weed and cologne anyway because of 'the homies.'

"Nigga, I'm bored." Hykeem hard stops. And everyone comes alive again.

"Yo!"

"Shit!"

"Damn!"

"Nigga?"

Were only some of the responses that came from the boys. Another was Jordan smacking Hykeem in the head. "Fuck is wrong with you?" He mumbled, "Keep driving."

Hykeem continued to drive and the now awake group continued to struggle with music. "Bro I seriously can't find nothing..."

Y/N, who was tired of the complaining, snatched Jordan's phone, and after a moment put it down. "This what you was talking about the other day? That beat CD?" He asked Jordan. Jordan was a dreamer, he wanted to be a rapper. But he gave up on it after getting flamed a few times. Y/N would take a spin at it. He was often considered nothing short of a poet.

Hykeem's older brothers turned to him as if he'd said something completely out of the ordinary. "Fuck you looking at?" He mumbled. "Nigga what you finna do?" Travis questioned, as the younger boy shrugged back. "Man ion even know..."

The beat came in, and the boys in the car began nodding to it. They liked it.. they liked it a lot. So Y/N started rapping on it..

"Uh, Martin had a dream..."

And so did Y/N.

Though he'd never noticed his phone ringing...

Meanwhile...

"Woman, I want my motherfuckin' dominos." A drunken, and even more high F/N yelled at M/N, who only laughed at him- almost sarcastically. But dialed her son on the phone again. She knew where he was now- out trapping, hipping, and banging. Either way:

"Hello? What you doing?" Again, she knew the answer, still with a bit of hope, she'd ask anyway.

"Kickin it.." Y/N answered. You could tell he was out of breath, and if you listened closely, you could hear faint sirens in the background. He knew he was probably about to catch his first offense with the homies.

WITH Y/N

After the boys manage to escape from the cops, Y/N sat still in the car with his friends. Things he didn't own on his lap, of course, they'd stolen it. As where the fuck else would they get a tv, Nintendo's, games, and shoes?

"So what we gon do now?" Travis mumbled, pulling at a braid of his. Of course, he was met with annoyed looks from the rest of the boys. Hykeem contemplated for a moment. "I mean we could get active..?" He questioned, only to be met by a glare from Y/N, who began to shout. "Nigga, take me home.. y'all dumbasses need to lay low for a bit.." He looks out the window, watching as the car began to turn in the direction of his house.

Upon arrival, he gets out of the car looking at the boys inside. "Look now, don't do anything stupid." He says, before grabbing a few of the things they'd stolen including a new tin of dominos for his father. He takes a second to haul the stuff inside before waving at the car, watching them drive off as he steps into the house.

Looking around the sun-lit place and leaving the dominos on the counter, before stepping into his bedroom and lying on his bed. His eyes on the ceiling as he day-dreamed, occasionally he closed his eyes and spoke to himself. Just.. thinking and, more importantly, dreaming. He wanted nothing more in life but to be something big. He didn't know quite yet what that could be, but he hoped it would happen soon.

It had to happen soon, before something he couldn't fix happened..

He takes a moment to finish his more complex thoughts, before finally rising from his bed and walking into the living room. He turns on the tv upon entry, and sits down on the couch. Now it hadn't been long since he left the car with his friends, or at least it hadn't felt like it.

No, it hadn't felt like two hours.

Yet the screen said differently, and unfortunately the picture of Jordan proved different. The horror in Y/N's eyes was the worst though as he read the words. "Dead at 22?" He spoke out loud, standing up. In the background, you could see the car with caution tape around it. Empty.

He curses to himself and grabs the keys to his mom's van, "Mom! I'm taking the van.. Be back in thirty minutes!" He says, just looking for himself some time, before he steps out of the house. Looking at the street for any sign of his cousins, the first thing he sees is Hykeem. He runs over to him, stopping him.

"What the fuck happened, and where the hell are Travis and Destin?" He stops him, gesturing that he follow him to the van.

"They're coming soon, bro. They just went to Jordan's mama house.. Shit, have you heard about Jordan?" Hykeem questions, as they get in the van. "Show me the crime scene bro.." He turns on the car, looking at Hykeem while mentally preparing. As he takes the instructions and begins to drive, still interrogating Keem about how it happened.

"You know who did this?" He asks, and hearing the reply he brakes hard. "How..?" He was now fuming, only deciding to drive off. His eyes scanning the sidewalks until he found a group of men, he slowed down and looked at Keem. "Hykeem." He calls for his attention, passing him a glock he'd found in the glove compartment.

"Them.. you know what to do." He watched as Hykeem attempted but failed the drive-by, shying away at the last moment. Y/N glares and stops the car. "You won't do it, I'll do it myself." He takes the gun, thinking about it for a moment before focusing and taking a successful shot. He quickly dropped the gun on Keem's lap, panting and beginning to panic a bit.

"Fuck." He closed his eyes, as time began to fade into the back of his mind.

Just like this nightmare.

Just like this memory.

Beverly Hills, Los Angeles.

Three Years Later, Modern Day.

🔫 ♫ ◷ ♫ 🔫

Y/N's alarm goes off, and he wakes up in his bed at 6 P.M.. Stretching his arms out and standing up, putting on his satin robe and walking into the bathroom. His iPhone in his hands as he leisurely scrolls on TikTok, before getting a message from his manager. Something about hurrying up to get dressed.

He ignores it, rolling his eyes and brushing his teeth before walking into his closet. The past three years had gone by fast, but god was it nice. That miracle he'd been praying for forever ago, it was here. Now he was nominated for 8 different Grammy sections, and whichever others he won likely go next to the other 3. It was safe to say he hadn't taken a day off for all 3 years, even though he tended not to attend the ceremonies. It would be his first, and he intended to enjoy himself.

He smiled at all his thoughts. He was proud of himself. He began to get dressed, throwing on black pants, a button up shirt, and a tie with dark and light blue designs. Before he threw on his shoes, which had a similar theme. Paired with a jacket of the same description, and a hat, and he was finally done. He grabbed his phone and smiled in the mirror, before walking out and walking down the stairs in his house.

His parents, and a few of his cousins greeted him. He waved to them and exited, now prepared to take some emotional damage and even more emotional gain.

Though nothing could've prepared him for the night he was soon to have.

[prythianpages]

'Cause It Was Always You | Azriel x Reader

summary: After eavesdropping on multiple conversations, Azriel finally gathers the courage to confess his feelings to you, thinking he's on the verge of losing you.

word count: 1,741

warnings: I guess angst at the beginning? But I promise it ends with fluff!

a/n: Billie Eilish's Birds of a Feather has been on repeat in my head and it prompted this cute little idea. Also shoutout to @nocasdatsgay for helping me with a codename for Az.

“I fear I’ll love Lapis until the day that I die…until the light leaves my eyes…until I’m in the grave, rotting awa–”

“y/n, you’re drunk,” Feyre had giggled.

“Drunk in love,” you sang in response with a giggle of your own.

And when one of Azriel’s shadows reported the silly little smile on your face, the silly little sparkle in your eyes, he shrunk back into the ones that had remained. His heart sank to his stomach, a cold, heavy weight settling there. 

Because you were in love. 

With someone that wasn’t him.

Azriel told himself that was the last time he’d eavesdrop. And perhaps, that wouldn’t have been a lie, if it wasn’t for the pesky little shadow that followed you around. It enjoyed dancing and flitting around you. Sometimes, it’d make its presence known by weaving through your hair or slithering up your arm. Most times, it’d trail behind you, like a little duckling.

Azriel tried to call the shadow back home but it was unwavering, choosing to linger in your presence instead. The same way he wished to linger by your side. And recently, the inky traitor had gotten into the habit of summoning more of his shadows to your side, weaving an invisible bond between you and him.

Every time a shadow returned to him, it brought whispers of your laughter, the sparkle in your eyes, and the softness in your voice when you spoke of Lapis. Each word you uttered about that male tore him apart, every confession cutting deeper than any blade ever could.

“If you don’t ask Lapis out, Jasper will do it for you and believe me when I say you do not want that to happen.”

“Okay, okay! I’ll ask him out. Tomorrow.”

That was a snippet of a conversation his shadows had reported to him earlier, cutting his morning training short. It lingered with him, haunting him throughout the day. And now, he found himself unable to sleep, constantly turning in his bed.

Azriel’s stomach twists into a tight knot, the storm raging outside echoing his inner turmoil. Tomorrow. He was running out of time.  Fear and perhaps, even pride, kept him from telling you how he truly felt about you. But now, he found himself fearing something even worse. Losing you before he even had a chance to say it…

He didn’t want to wake up one day and regret his silence, regret not telling you how he felt because of pride or fear. He needed to do this for himself, to break free from the shadows of his past. He had failed to confess his love twice before, and the thought of a third failure was unbearable. This time, he couldn’t let fear hold him back. The risk of losing you to someone else was a pain he couldn't endure.

With a deep breath, Azriel steeled himself. He needed to find you, to tell you the truth about his feelings. Before anything between you and Lapis could blossom. He couldn’t let another moment pass without you knowing how deeply he loved you.

Which is how he found himself at your doorstep, in the middle of the night, clothes sticking to him like a second skin as the rain pours relentlessly down on him. His shadows stir in excitement, whispering anxiously as they hear your approaching footsteps. His heart is pounding, so fast and hard that he fears it’s going to explode.

“Azriel?” 

Your voice is still marred by sleep as you blink up at him. That traitorous shadow hovers behind you, peering at him over your shoulder. He glares at it, and it quickly hides behind your hair. You don’t seem to notice it, either unfazed or truly oblivious to the shadow that had been following you around for so long.

“Did something happen?” You speak again, brows furrowing in concern. You step back into your apartment, a silent gesture for him to follow after you and come inside. 

“I–” Azriel begins but he can’t bring himself to finish his sentence. He can’t even bring himself to move as his eyes catch the movement of your arms wrapping around yourself to ward off the chill of the downpour. The nightgown you’re wearing is thin and short. A  glimpse of your exposed skin has a warmth rushing to his face and he’s blushing.

"I—" He tries again but when his eyes meet yours, his heart leaps into his throat, choking off his words. Oh gods, he can’t do this. He’s grateful for the rain as it masks the tears beginning to sting at his eyes. He thinks he’s going to be sick and–

“Are you okay?”

His shadows push him forward, wings shuddering in response. It’s now or never. He can do this. He takes a deep breath, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“I love you.” 

The words spill out in a rush, raw and unguarded. He watches you with bated breath, his shadows whispering every nuance in your expression—from the way your eyebrows raise and your mouth parts as a gasp escapes, to the way your eyes glisten with something he’s too scared to discern.

You’re rendered speechless, the silence that follows feeling like an eternity. Azriel’s wings slump, growing heavy. He clears his throat, averting his gaze. The need to retreat is overpowering what little courage he had gathered moments ago. 

“That’s all I had to say. I should, um–I’ll be leaving now,” he stammers, so unsure and so unlike himself.

“Az–” you start, reaching out to him, but he’s already stepping back into the rain. He doesn’t think he can face your rejection, much less witness the look on your face if you don’t feel the same.

“Goodnight.”

His shadows are like a wall of resistance, fighting against him as he turns to make his leave. He asks them—begs them, even– to swallow him whole. To winnow him away and save him from further mortification. But they refuse. Stay, they insist, tugging and weighing his wings down. 

It leaves him with no choice but to walk away. Every step feels heavier than the last, the rain soaking him to the bone. Listen, his shadows urge as they continue to tug relentlessly at his wings for him to turn back around and face you. 

But he can’t. Not when the Mother has seemed to have cursed him with loving those who could never love him back.

“Azriel!”

His mind screams at him to keep going, to keep walking away. However, the plea echoed in your voice has his chest tightening. His heart overrides his mind, shadows only encouraging him further. He turns around just in time to catch you as you leap into his arms.

Your legs wrap around his waist, arms encircling his neck in a desperate effort to keep him from leaving. His own arms respond immediately, securing you to him. 

“Don’t go.”

Your breath is warm against his neck as you tighten your embrace, and his wings curl around your smaller form in response, wanting to shield you from the relentless rain. He feels you shift in his arms, pulling away just enough to look into his eyes. One hand reaches out, tenderly brushing the dark fringe from his forehead. His breath catches, and you must sense his inner turmoil because you gently smooth away the furrow of his brow with your thumb.

“I love you,” you say, your hand caressing his cheek. Despite the cold, harsh downpour, your touch is warm and soft. A balm to his frayed nerves.

His heart swells with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming joy. He had prepared himself for rejection, for the familiar sting of unrequited love. But here you were, confessing your love to him with the same vulnerability he had shown you.

“Really?” he whispers, voice thick with emotion, eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“Really.”

“I thought I was going to lose you,” he murmurs, his voice trembling with relief. “I thought I’d never have the chance to tell you.”

“Lose me? Azriel, you’ve always had me.”

“But you said you loved Lapis? You were going to ask him out–”

“So you were spying on me!”

Azriel’s eyes widen, cheeks flushing all over again and he’s glad it’s dark enough to conceal it. “No–I–not intentionally…my shadows, they…,” he trails off, realizing how ridiculous he must sound.

Yes, his shadow refused to come back to him. But he didn’t stop the others from reporting back to him so with a defeated sigh, he says, “I’m sorry.”

“Azriel,” you giggle and he’s frowning at you, not finding the humor in the situation. “You are Lapis.”

“What?”

“You’re Lapis. Cas is Jasper and Rhys is Amethyst.” You explain, lips curling into an amused smile at the sigh of relief that comes from Azriel. How had he not realized that all those names shared one thing in common? And more importantly, that they were color coded to his and Cassian’s siphons?

“I needed a codename for you so I can gush about my feelings for you without, you know,” you tilt your head toward that nosey, barely visible shadow that had been following you around. Sensing the attention, the shadow dips and hides again, curling around the back of your neck. 

“I fear it’s yours now,” Azriel replies, almost sheepishly.

“Good,” you smile at him. “I’ve grown rather fond of it. Just as I have over its master.”

His shadows take your words as a welcome invitation, swirling and dancing around you both. Azriel’s arms hook underneath your thighs, pulling you even closer to him. Your arms find their place around his neck again.

Then, you're closing the small distance between you and kissing him. Warmth spreads throughout him, reveling in the sweet sensation of your lips against his. The rain continues to pour, but neither of you care. 

When you finally pull away, he leans his forehead against yours, his eyes remaining closed as if in fear that this is all just a dream. You gently kiss his nose, your soft voice reminding him that this moment is real.

“I love you.”

Azriel’s eyes open, looking right into yours. “Until the day that I die,” he tells you, echoing your devotion.

There’s a knowing spark in your eyes as they search his own for answers. It has his lips lifting into a smile that mirrors yours, confirming that he had been eavesdropping on your drunken confession weeks ago.  Your smile widens. 

 “Until the light leaves my eyes.”

This was a better idea in my head but hey, at least I finished it. I also don't know the logistics of having a conversation in the rain but that's the beauty of fanfic, I guess?lol Anyway, I could not get these lyrics out of my head. They were so Azriel coded for me:

I'll love you 'til the day that I die 'Til the day that I die 'Til the light leaves my eyes 'Til the day that I die I want you to see, hm How you look to me, hm You wouldn't believe if I told ya You would keep the compliments I throw ya

the way I keep fixing these lyrics but I think tumblr is glitching or something uggghh, pls ignore the random mismatched sizing

Also just wanted to point out that if Az hasn’t confessed, reader would’ve done it the next day anyway 💀

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

[billiesbossanovas]

MVP

Part 1/?

—————

Warning- this chapter will contain graphic descriptions of crime scenes, including dead body's and the violence behind the deaths.

The case had been going on for months now, everyday with little to no breaks interviewing people, getting absolutely nowhere.

The lead detective y/n was tasked with figuring out who was behind all the murders currently happening Chicago, they started three months ago, when a barely eighteen year old girl had been found murdered in a ditch, her wrists covered in rope burn, throat slit and a mark carved into their forearm, some kind of disfigured stick-man. Then another one, a male 18 year old with the same rope burn, slit throat, and same mark carved into his forearm

Currently, detective Y/L/N sits at his desk going over evidence, the room dimly lit as the lamp on his desk flickers a few times and the sun sets outside the of the building, the shadows in the room moving slightly the further as the sun sets, its minimal yet noticeable every time the detective looks up from the files. The detective at the desk holding one hand in his hair as he relentlessly looks over the evidence, that is until his partner, detective Jackson puts a cup of coffee down on the desk. "Take a break Y/N" he mutters out before he sips on his own coffee. Y/n sighs, he sits up and looks up at the man In front of him. He was short brown hair, and is wearing nothing less than a suit at the ungodly hour of eleven o lock at night, completely contrasting that of the describe sat down, whose wearing a hoodie and jeans.

"you know.. I just don't understand the motive.. Eli.. I just-" he sighs before taking a slug of hid coffee and leaning back in the chair, it creaks slightly as he does so, as if it were over used.

Eli opens his mouth to speak, just before he can another detective on the case runs into the room "we got another body- just outside of some school In Malta- we gotta move fast!" Both detectives at the desk run out of the room.

"Give me all the Info you've got Toby." y/n shout as the three of them rush over to garage.

"The Vic is male, around 5'9 in height, same injuries as the other, only this time there's a note lodged in the throat." Toby reels off the information as they get to the cars, y/n sitting in passenger, Toby driving and Eli in the back. "Maria and Mike are already over there, the captains on his way now, it'll take fifteen minutes to get there."

The three get there just before the captain arrives, he's a tall man, forty three year of age, and has been apart of the police force since the age of twenty. He walks with meaning, his boots hitting heavy off the floor as they hit the concrete with force. His hands in his jacket pockets. His gray hair tucked into a woollen hat. He gets the information he needs from the detectives who were already on the scene. Before he's addressed by the forensics officer, she informs him of how long the victims been dead for and evidence she can take in to try and get DNA on the perp.

"Thank you Brie." He speaks, his voice gruff. He kneels down and takes his hand out of his pockets, he places latex gloves on and inspects the body himself before taking the note that was folded and lodged into the victims throat. "Detective "Y/L/N" he stands and turns to the detective, whose eyes are now just as confused as the captains.

"Yes sir?" He asks, his confusion evident in his voice as he starts walking over. Pulling his hands from his pockets, he takes a pair of gloves from Brie and puts them on.

The captain falters for a second before handing it over to the younger detective "it's for you. I want you to analyse this. Then I want you and Maria to look over security footage." The younger detective nods as he keeps hold of the slightly damp paper in his hands. "The rest of you go with forensics. See if you can find anything there." With that the captain leaves, heading back off to the station to work on other cases he's been saddled with no doubt.

Maria approaches Y/N she's the older of the two, only by three years, but that's three more years of experience she has on the other detective. "You work on that letter then hit me up and then we can review security." She nods before also walking off her hands in her pockets, ready to sleep for the night. The others also doing their own tasks they have, where as y/n is left with an unopened letter from a serial killer addressed to him. He stares for a second, then looks around before slowly opening the letter.

The ink is smudged from the saliva of the victim, he reads the letter, silently, taking in every word of the short sentence that has been written on the paper.

You've caught my attention detective, maybe we'll meet sometime.

- well.. you'll know soon enough

He folds the paper back up, seals it in an evidence bag and takes a car back to the police station to file it in as evidence for the case.

He walks over to Maria's desk before he can speak she interrupts him. "We have to wait until the stores around where the body was found open up, so go home and catch some sleep, it's gunna be a long day tomorrow." Is all she says before packing up her desk and walking away from him, he lets out a sigh and walks out of the station.

—

The next day, y/n had gotten out of bed at five thirty sharp, switched off his alarm and gotten ready for his day at work.

He took it upon himself to wear something somewhat presentable, smart trousers, button up shirt, suspenders and dress shoes, he looked sharp. He out on his jacket and tie, fixed his bed head and left the house.

Once he'd arrived at work, he had done his usual, grab a coffee from a the shitty coffee machine that sat in the break room, it somehow always managed to break the every time anyone used it. He the. Sat in the couch waiting for the rest of his team to arrive, though the only person he really needs right now is Maria. The first to arrive  is the captain, he walks into the break room with confidence and sits next to y/n on the couch. "So the letter.." he coughs out, almost nervously as he looks over at the young man sitting next to him.

Y/n shifts uncomfortably "oh.. right- uh it was just saying that who ever the perp is.. has gotten interest in.. me.." he sighs, the captain groans and nods, he looks over at the window, watching as the people of the city start fully waking up as it hits six am.

"Well.." the captain starts before clearing his throat and sitting up straight "I'm not going to take you off the case yet.. but don't do anything stupid." He finishes before standing up and walking over to his office, on the opposite side of the bullpen. Y/n sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee. Maria walks into the break room and looks at him.

"You look like shit." She sighs and nods her head to follow him.

"Well Goodmorning to you too" he mumbles under his breath as he gets up and follows her. "So where's the first stop?" He asks as they get into the elevator. Maria leans over and presses the button for the garage.

"The grocery store just opposite where the murder happened, they have a security camera that should hit the spot where it happened exactly" she gruffs out just before the doors open, she's clearly not a morning person. She shoves her hands into the pockets of her jacket as she walks over to the black undercover car, her taking the drivers side and y/n taking the passenger side. "We go in, get the footage and leave."  All y/n does is nod in agreement. 

When they get to the store, Maria does all the talking while all y/n can think of is the letter, who was the perp? What did they want with him? Just as he turns to tune into the conversation going on with Maria and the store owner, A woman taps his shoulder. "Oh sorry ma'am I'm working right now" he answers politely, she was the same height as him, and had an interesting dress style, her hair covered up by a beanie and the hood of her jacket, the black mask she was wearing covering most of her face.

She pulls her mask down "you're in-front of the cleaning products" she gives him a small smile, he sheepishly moves out of the way slightly embarrassed, he mumbles out an apology. "I hope I see you around.. detective.." she waves and walks off away from him.

"—well, we appreciate the co-operation, thank you ma'am" Maria smiles and walks into a room next to them, y/n stops for a moment watching the girl he's spoken to before walking into the room with Maria. He watches as she downloads the footage onto a usb stick.

"Do you think we'll get what we need?" He asks looking at the monitors, able to see clearly the spot where the murder took place.

Maria nods then turns to him. "Hey.. so maybe don't be flirting with random girls while in the job.. even if they are cute" she smirks and nudges his shoulder with her own.

"What-!?" His face heats up and he looks away from her "I wasn't- she just wanted the cleaning supplies-" She laughs at him before patting him on the shoulder. "Let's just get this back down to the station to look it over" he mumbles.

When looking over the footage he zooms in on the perps face, not being able to make much out as they have they back turned to the camera for the full of the murder, only after they carve the mark into the victims arm do they turn around quickly, causing their hood to fall down, revealing long black hair, half of it tied up. "This is useless" Maria mumbles as they're half an hour into reviewing the footage.

"Shut up" y/n mumbles just as the perp starts to turn to walk away.

"What?" Maria counters before looking at the screen "holy shit." She mumbles leaning down to look at the computer screen. The girl on the screen puts a mask on before she looks up into the camera and gets into a car. That conveniently had a leaf stuck to the license plate.

"Fuck.. I can't make it when it's zoomed out, then when I zoom in it.. it's just so Pixelated.." y/n sighs as he puts his head back. Frustrated after spending half a day of work to get nowhere.

Heavy footsteps make their way over to his desk, he looks up to see the captains combed hair and uniform. "Tell me detective, any useful information from today?" He asks holding his hat under his arm.

"Other than the perp is female.. no" he sighs as the captain nods then walks over to the front of the bullpen. "Detectives." His voice commands the room, everyone in the precinct turns around and looks at him. "Your work day is over, go home, get some rest." He announces, there's A heavy sigh from most of the people in the room, Maria pats y/n in the shoulder twice before wandering away from the desk, the captain looks over at him. Y/n grabs his jacket and jacket and walks over to leave, the captain grabs him the arm. "I mean it son. Get some rest".

All y/n can do is nod before walking out of the precinct and heading to his apartment, thinking of spending some well earned time with his cat and his Tv.

——

If anyone has actually read this, I hope you enjoyed it, it took me two days to full write it :)

[defmaybe]

last night's mascara

12 Days of Christmas: Day 11, January 4th, 2025

Dreamcatcher’s Lee Gahyun x Male Reader

3.1k words

Christmas Masterlist

What a boring ass party.

It’s the thought that has been lingering inside your head for the last two hours. The decorations? Daft. The song choice? Lame. The conversations? Rote. So, there you are, one hand on your phone, the other fiddling with your fingers restlessly. Should’ve bought Balatro when it was on sale.

You scroll your Twitter feed aimlessly, pressing likes on the fan sites’ pictures of your favorite groups—fromis_9, Red Velvet, (G)I-DLE. It’s the only way to escape this party without raising much suspicion.

Well, not until Gahyun notices you standing in the corner of your eyes.

“Not enjoying it?”

You almost drop your phone on the ground, good thing you can balance it with your hands.

“Shit, y–yeah,” you reply.

Gahyun giggles softly, covering her mouth with the glass of champagne in her hand. She’s in her red and white Christmas dress, one that shows off a lot—her shoulders, her legs, her ample cleavage. Fuck, she looks so tantalizing.

“So,” she says. She’s pulling you into a conversation. Abort. Abort. Abort!

“How was your day?” she asks, “Wait, oh my god, that was a terrible question. I’m sorry if it’s too plain for you.”

It’s over for you.

“No, no, it was–great. I’m fine,” you reply. “How are you?”

Gahyun chuckles. “A bit drunk, but still standing!” she says with a bright smile, twisting her foot coyly. God, she looks gorgeous.

You only shoot a smile back at her. You don’t know what more to say. It’s difficult for you to continue the conversation like this. You can’t do this.

“Hey,” she continues. You’re finished. “I can keep you company here if you want.”

She’s kind, but you’ll have to say no. You aren’t good enough to hold her right here. You don’t have anything to talk about!

“Ah, I–I appreciate that, but I don’t think you’d enjoy my company,” you decline, taking a sip of the champagne in your hand.

She giggles, and you fall victim to your own self-deprecation once again. You just can’t stop pushing people out, can you?

Fuck.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself, come on!” she encourages. You’re taken aback by her enthusiasm to be with you. Is she really enjoying your company? Is it a dare? Is she just toying with you for her own entertainment?

“O–Okay, Gahyun,” you stammer.

The conversation begins at the expense of your solitude. It’s seemingly unending. You’re involuntarily dragged into an exchange with the talkative Lee Gahyun. However, you’re slowly dragged into her charismatic presence. You’re somehow not stuttering anymore? Goodness gracious! She’s a good talker. She’s a good listener. She’s genuinely comforting to be around.

“So–speaking of music, have you been listening to anyone recently? Well, outside of k-pop, it’ll be too boring,” Gahyun asks.

You contemplate a bit before you answer, “Well, I’ve been listening to Gracie Abrams a lot lately. Do you know her?”

“Gracie Abrams–hmm–is she the one who opened for Taylor Swift?”

“Yeah!” you happily answer. She’s really full of knowledge. “I started listening to her a few years ago. Quality can be choppy sometimes, but I still like her a lot.”

“I’m sure she’s great,” she says with a giggle. “That’s why you’re drawn to her.”

You can only chuckle at her warm words. God, she really knows how to reel you in. 

“What about you? Who have you been listening to?” you ask her the same question back. Normally, you’d be beating yourself up for not changing the question, but with Gahyun, it feels like you don’t have to worry about anything.

Gahyun laughs, cutely covering her mouth while doing so. “Well, mostly Billie Eilish, her new album. Have you heard it yet?”

“Oh, yeah! I love Birds of a Feather a lot. Wait, let me guess yours–uh–” you pause, trying to guess her favorite from the album.

Gahyun adoringly smiles, waiting for your guess. Maybe it’s the alcohol. Maybe it’s the light, but, fuck, are you having a crush on her?

“Chihiro?”

“Aww~ that’s close! It’s actually my second favorite,” Gahyun says, pouting cutely. You can only awkwardly giggle along to cover the embarrassment from the mistake.

“I actually love Lunch the most, to be honest,” she says. “Makes me click my heels, you know?”

“Oh, yeah. I mean–I also like Lunch, but–uh–it’s just not as sad as Birds of a Feather.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, that’s definitely interesting!” Gahyun says. “So, you like sad songs? Do you like–uh–have any to recommend to me?”

You give her a few songs. She nods in acknowledgement. The exchange continues into the night. It flows so lively that you get lost in her charm, over and over again. You find out about her dog at home—Bae. You find out that she loves pineapples on pizzas. You find out that her favorite TV show is Goblin (yes, that Goblin).

As it goes on, you can’t help but steal glances at her body, even if you know how inappropriate that is. You’ll use the opportunity when she looks away to take in the view of her ample cleavage or her meaty thighs. She looks so good, so deli–

“Hey,” she derails your train of thoughts. “Did you just–stare at my tits?”

Your eyes widen in shock. You didn’t realize that you’ve been looking at her for a little too long. Your hands tremble in fear of getting called out. You should say sorry, now!

“F–Fuck, I–I’m so s–sorry, Gah–”

“Zip it,” she cuts you off, putting her index finger on your lips. “I don’t want excuses.”

Tears start to form in your eyes. You’re being mentally cornered by Lee Gahyun, the company darling. God, you’re beyond fucked. Your whole life is being undone because of a slip. Fuck.

Then, she whispers into your ear.

“Meet me at the women’s bathroom in five minutes.”

You nod with your eyes closed slowly, before she departs from you, giving you the view of her hips swaying before disappearing into the crowd.

—

The women’s bathroom smells of air purifier, it’s taken care of well. It’s brightly lit. You find Gahyun standing in the middle of the room—arms crossed, tapping her foot. She’s waiting for you.

“Come here, lock the door,” she orders, gesturing you to her. Her voice is much, much more stern than in the ballroom, but there’s also–something else. Is she mad at you, or is it something else?

The door clicks shut, leaving the bathroom only for you two. You slowly walk towards Gahyun, who’s looking at you expectantly.

The air thickens with anticipation. The silence is heavy. You’re stuck in the bathroom with Lee Gahyun. She doesn’t seem too pleased with your presence here, but why would she be calling you here, then?

“So,” she starts. You close your eyes shut in fear. “Anything to say before we start?”

You shake your head vigorously, hoping that the admission would lessen the punishment directed at you.

You hear a wicked laugh, as she starts to circle around you. Your body trembles in fear. Fuck, what is she going to do with you. Is she going to beat you up? Is she going to berate you?

“Are you sure that you’ve locked the door?” she asks from behind you. You can feel her breath on your neck. It’s terrifying.

“Y–Yes, Gahyun,” you stammer out.

“Good. Now, take off your pants,” she orders sternly. Wait, this isn’t going where you’ve expected.

“Wait, do you want me to–”

“Take off your pants, yes,” she finishes your sentence without any hesitation. Determination shines in her eyes.

“O–Okay?” you utter, before reluctantly unbuckling your belt. It’s so hard to come off when your hands are literally shaking like this. Your breathing becomes erratic with each second that passes by.

“Faster,” she sternly commands into your ear. Her warm breath touches your skin, eliciting goosebumps everywhere. Your hands quickly take off your trousers as she orders, leaving your lower body in your boxers. The outline of your erection becomes visible under them.

“Good,” she says, the warmth of your hand emanating into your firm ass. “Now, if you’d show me what you’ve been hiding under this–garment.

You immediately comply with her order, sliding down your tight boxers in a hasty motion. Your hard cock springs free from its confinement. It twitches in the anticipation of what’s to come. Gahyun presses into your body from the back, making your ass touch her warm crotch. Her perfume pervades your nostrils, making your legs wobble like jelly.

“Hmm, excited, aren’t we?” she coos. Her right hand reaches from the back to tease you. She leaves just a little space between her hand and your cock. You wish you could just grab her hand and make her touch your hardness right now, but that’s not how you play this game. You can only wonder how Gahyun can hide this side for so long—the side that dominates the shit out of you.

“Do you want me to touch it? Say it.” Her hot breath brushes against your ear, teasing you, pushing you towards the limit.

“Y–Yes, I want you to touch it, Gahyun,” you utter, mind going all haywire from the sheer intensity of her body warmth against your back.

You hear Gahyun giggle mischievously from the back, before her hand latches onto your cock firmly, making you groan in sheer ecstasy.

Slowly, she begins her dirty display on your cock. She lazily drags her hand up along your length, eliciting a shudder from you. When she’s at the top, she makes sure to take a swipe on the tip to make you moan. Your brain is now filled with nothing but her otherworldly handjob she’s giving. She feels so good.

You moan and whimper in her tight restraint, naked from below the waist. Her hands are slowly jerking you off with an unmatched mastery. Her smell is intense—her perfume, and something that’s explicitly her.

She slowly finds her rhythm, knowing when to pump, knowing when to swipe. She goes faster, eliciting guttural groans and whimpers out of you. 

Your cock is being fondled by the company darling, and that thought alone sends you into rapture. She’s the same woman you see every day. She’s the same woman you’ve talked to. She’s the same woman who everyone loves. Now, she’s jerking you off in the women’s bathroom, making you moan and whimper.

Maybe it’s the sheer intensity of the situation, you can feel your loins tightening. Your body becomes rigid. Your breathing becomes erratic. You’re going to cum in Lee Gahyun’s hand!

“You know, I’ve been told a lot that I have nice lips,” she says. Her hands remain a little too eager to finish you off. It’s becoming too irresistible to cum right now. You can feel the tension rising within your loins. You do want more than her hand, indeed. That pair of lips are a little too tantalizing for you to not be on your cock—so plump, so pouty.

“F–Fuck, Gahyun, I–I’m gonna cum,” you utter. Time is running low, and you have to make her stop before you blow a load all over the bathroom floor and get short-circuited for the rest of the night.

Gahyun lets out another wicked giggle. “Say please, then.” She’s not going to stop so easily, not before you profusely beg her to.

“Nghhn~ p–please, Gahyun,” you plead, voice already shaking in the intense sensation.

“Again, and I’ll lift my hand off,” she teases, jerking you off even faster. Your mind is all hazy from the sheer pleasure you’re getting from her hand. Your blinking becomes rapid. Your vision becomes blurry.

“Nghh~ please, G–Gahyun.”

Gahyun suddenly removes her hand from your cock, leaving it twitching in the air. You sigh, as the tension slowly drops back to normal. You’re happy not to cum before you get to take on her mouth.

“Close one,” she says, letting go of you from her warm embrace. You feel like you can fully breathe for the first time in years. She was suffocating, but you won’t deny the pleasure she gave you, of course.

Gahyun slowly walks back to your front, putting the highlight of her next act for you to see—her lips, those dick-sucking lips. You and the guys have talked about this behind her back (well, behind everyone’s back) about how good her lips would feel on your cocks, head bobbing up and down in a hypnotic motion, bringing intense pleasure to whoever gets their dick sucked. 

Now, it’s your turn.

Gahyun kneels, not without seductively swaying her wide hips as she goes down. Your cock twitches at the sight violently, so ready to be taken into her mouth.

“Say please, just like when I jerked you off,” she commands. She seems to know when to raise her voice and when to not.

“Please, Gahyun,” you utter, your voice all dry from the moaning and the internally burning desire.

The first contact is nothing short of divine. Gahyun starts slow. She starts by taking in just the mushroom tip into her mouth. She feels so warm, so tight, so right. Gahyun gives the underside of your cock a playful lick, making your body jolt in response.

She then begins her show, pushing herself further on your cock. It’s a lewd sight, really—the direct eye contact, the sound she’s making (it’s kind of a low, satisfied hum), the way she fondles your balls with her fingers. Pleasure just shoots through your body like a bullet. Without any restraints, you could just cum into her mouth right here and now. She pushes further and further, making you groan in pure bliss, until she starts to gag.

“Y–You don’t have to take it all, G–Gahyun.”

She says nothing, instead diving deeper onto your cock, all while using her tongue to play with the underside of your length. No woman has ever given you a blowjob as good as this—the deliberate movement, the will to gag, the pouty lips. Gahyun really has it all.

She keeps the eye contact intact, a reminder of her control. The gagging sounds she’s making don’t hinder her dominance by a little bit. She lets you know who’s in control here. It’s her and only her.

She finally pushes herself up to the hilt of your cock. She gags. She chokes. She sputters. Globs of spit leaks out of her mouth. Your head falls backwards from the pleasure. Her eyes are barely opening from the sheer size of your cock. You love this. You love the sounds she’s making. You love how she dominates the shit out of you. You love that she’s willing to suck you off like this (even if she’s the one in full control).

She stays there, gagging, choking, sputtering on your cock. She’s taking in the pungent scent of you, judging by the way she takes a deep breath through her nose. Her lips look so good on your cock like this. The base of your length becomes saturated by her red lipstick and spit. Streaks of black mascara run down her cheeks. You’re revelling in it. You’re revelling in the sight.

“G–God, G–Gahyun,” you utter.

With that, she slowly pulls back from your cock, leaving a trail of her rosy lipstick on it. Her eyes are fluttering violently with the thickness and length of you. She can barely breathe, and you’re loving it.

Instinctively, your right hand goes to the back of her head, tugging her hair to pull her out of the predicament called your cock. She gets to breathe again, and she quickly dislodges herself off you.

“Ah, y–you taste good,” she says, still trying to catch her breath. The marks from the earlier act are evident.

You say nothing, letting Gahyun catch her breath again, waiting for the time she can take in your cock once more. She breathes in, she breathes out, and finally, she’s ready again.

“I’m not holding back this time, alright?” she says, determination sparks inside her eyes.

“S–Sure.”

She grabs onto your cock with her right hand, pulling you close, before she takes your cock into her mouth. This time, it’s more violent, more fervent. She catches her rhythm and doesn’t look back. She starts to bob her head back and forth on your cock, and doesn’t that make you whimper like a bitch?

“Nghhh~ s–so good,” you mewl.

Gahyun only replies with a giggle on your cock. Her grip is still firm. Her free hand fondles your balls gently, trying to coax cum out of you.

She catches her rhythm, moving her head in a hypnotic motion. She really wants you to cum under her influence like this. You hear her gag. You hear her choke. You hear her sputter.

The tension in your loins starts to rise again. You’re on the verge of cumming with the help of the earlier handjob, and she doesn’t seem to stop at all. That’s it. You’re unloading your cum inside of Lee Gahyun’s mouth, making her taste your white essence.

“G–Gonna cum,” you utter.

Gahyun responds by going as rapidly as she can on your throbbing cock. The sensation is electric. It shoots through you like a bullet. The knot tightens, and you can do nothing to stop it.

With the final stroke, you unload your pent-up lust into Lee Gahyun’s throat, making her taste your essence. Your body jerks forward in pure pleasure. You let out a low, guttural groan at your precipice, unable to make sense of the situation. She lets out a satisfied hum as she feels your white, hot cum hit the back of her throat. You’re probably salty, like the other women have said.

You slowly come down from your peak, finally catching your rhythm again. Your cock’s spurts turn into soft drizzles off the slit. Gahyun pulls off of your cock with a loud pop. What an obscene sight. Her face is a fucking mess—mascara, lipstick, it’s all wrong. You’re still too dazed to say a thing, though.

“You taste good,” she says, opening her mouth, sticking her tongue out lewdly to show the emptiness of her wet cavern. She drank it all.

“I–I wanna do this again,” you involuntarily utter from the depths of your heart. “I want you to suck my cock again.”

Maybe it’s the sheer absurdity of your words. Maybe it’s the wake of your climax. She bursts out a laugh, a genuine one. You watch her laugh awkwardly.

“Ask me–ha–properly,” she says. “Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Will you, Lee Gahyun–”

“Suck–”

“Suck my cock again?”

She lets out a chuckle, before answering, “Definitely, maybe.”

—

[s3thwrit3sstuff]

❝ I could never choose to love another (maybe one day I can learn to love you too). ❞

Gojo Satoru x male!reader | angst, unrequited love, arranged marriage | NOT PROOFREAD | wc: 3.7K

warnings: minor mentions of homophobia, emasculation (r! is forced to wear traditionally female garbs due to "tradition"), angst.

masterlist; part 1; part 2; part 3; alternate ending; playlist; au's and what if's

"You were born bluer than a butterfly, beautiful and so deprived of oxygen. Colder than your father's eyes — he never learned to sympathize with anyone."

"You were born reaching for your mother's hands. Victim of your father's plans to rule the world. Too afraid to step outside, paranoid and petrified of what you've heard."

authors note: (whisper chanting) wedding, wedding, wedding *song on repeat: BLUE by Billie Eilish

Black was the colour of elegance, formality, and misfortune.

It’s resolute. Existing in carefully filtered hues of shadows. The colour swallows up everything. A sharp contrast to everything it’s put besides. Your eyes are naturally drawn to it. Then, like everything in nature, the colour black has its equal.

White was a symbol of good fortune, and innocence.

Just as powerful in the way it both lifts other around it and yet becomes the most striking. A balance in their nature.

They’re unifying colours. Opposites but equal. A dichotomy that humans have found themselves philosophizing over. Yin and Yang, they were two fishes circling each other in the pond; they belonged together just as much as they seemed totally opposite of each other.

You suppose that’s why you’re wearing white for your wedding and Satoru, black. A binding of hands, families, fortune and misfortune.

A tradition of celebrating a union of equals.

A lifelong partnership.

It feels more like a sham to you.

This ceremony was unneeded and unnecessary. You’re sure a simple contract would’ve been more than enough. But, as great clans of sorcerers, traditions were not to be taken lightly and you were marrying into the Gojo Clan of Japan. This elevates you and your family’s social standing — finally being able to suckle at the teats of High Society and their riches without having to strain your necks and stick your tongue like a runt.

You will be Gojo (Y/N), husband to the most powerful sorcerer in your lifetime and you will be grateful and content. You will be taken care of. Never worry about anything because you will be just as untouchable as your other half.

Despite these “truths,” your heart feels so heavy you’re sure it has dropped to your stomach.

Like a frenzy of snakes, your intestines have wrapped themselves around your frantically beating heart; coiling and squeezing because this feeling has not left you the second Lady Gojo had come to discuss what alterations you needed to make for your wedding garbs.

Your breath hitches as your servants carefully tighten the obi around your waist. Your arms are outstretched as the servants busy themselves with tending to you. Those dolls you’ve seen your cousins play dress-up and make-believe with, you’re beginning to pity them. The hands are invasive as they worry about the way the fabric is falling and if there are any wrinkles in sight; your hair was kept neat and out of your face for the hard wig they were putting on, they do this after they painted your face with powders and colours.

The bags under your eyes concealed delicately and your lips pampered so there'd be no imperfections in sight.

All the while, they say nothing about the grimaces of discomfort on your face. Simply nodding in approval once satisfied. They tell you they’ll place another layer of cloth on you and you tell yourself that you’ve been through much worse.

But the second that weight settles, you can smell the incense they burned at your mother's funeral. It’s strange how one's brain can make these correlations. Bridging a memory completely unrelated to now and ruining it.

The smoke glides across your face and up your nose. The burn of them makes your eyes water. That smell — no amount of flowers could ever get rid of that burning smell.

“Young Master, do you need anything?” their voice surprises you enough for tears to fall. The servants gasp quietly, suddenly concerned at the state of you.

As if you’re a doll that had just come to life in the middle of play. This servant has the most unusual hair, inky black but in a way that’s obviously fake as it shines unnaturally blue under the sunlight. You wonder what their real hair colour is, so your watery eyes look at their eyebrows.

Stained, no giveaway to the truth.

Their voice was deep but also gave nothing away. A truly androgynous individual, with the most peculiar haircut. Blinking away the tears, you shake your head and turn away.

“No, I’m alright. Just overwhelmed, and excited,” you chuckle. “It’s my wedding day after all.”

They weren't convinced. Those coral coloured eyes seemed to ripple; as if a stone had been thrown into a calm lake. The servant turns and coldly announces for everyone to leave the room. Your older servants, your mothers, squared their shoulders.

"The young master should not be left alone on his wedding day," she begins. Her voice giving you a minute sense of comfort. She was a kind woman. Loyal to a fault. She cared for you the best she could, offering you her shoulder to weep on when she told you of your mothers sickness.

"You forget your place among us, young one."

The peculiar servant regards her with a placid expression. Yet, when she moves to approach you, they extend their hand out to the side to stop her.

You look between the two of them as they openly glared at each other. They lean in to her ears, hair slipping forward like a curtain, and they whisper. Whatever it is that they murmured makes her skin turn pale. She whips her head, gasping as she stares at them in horror.

Then, you were alone.

"What was that?" your voice was heavy with trepidation. The servant assures you with a polite smile. "My job is to ensure you are alright, Young Master. The room was beginning to get stuffy. Please, allow me to dress you myself."

Themselves?

It took three people in order to create the padding around your body. Essentially mummifying you in white so your shape was not distorted. Then another two servants assisted in your wrapping, securing the padding to your body and tying everything into place.

Like a proper bride.

It was emasculating. But the elders were already unamused by the binding of two men in matrimony — they demanded the wedding remained traditional. You found it hard to care, wanting to get this over and done with already.

The servant tilts your head up, gently pressing a cotton pad to your tear line and offering another smile. They smooth out what they can of your robe, getting behind you and quietly taking off the clips around the rim of your collar. It helps you breathe, if only a little, and your shoulders droop.

You suppose there isn't much else to be added onto your ensemble. But you appreciate the care they're putting in refining the hair accessories on your wig, using the flat sides of a rat tail comb to ensure the lace front was pressed neatly.

"...It feels like a helmet," you confess dryly. "It looks like one, doesn't it?" You gesture to your head.

"A pretty one," their reply makes you chuckle.

"They dress me up like this in order to humiliate me and my clan."

Your fingers curl into fists. They tilt their heads, regarding your fists with a glance then moving to your right to check the state of the lace.

"Do you feel humiliated?"

You twist your head, your expression now warped with simmering anger.

"I'm a man." You seethe.

"A beautiful one." They remind you. Not flinching at the subtle warmth your palms are emanating. "Why should you feel humiliated when you look as beautiful as the rising dawn? Don't do that."

They lean in and your breath hitches. You're so close you can tell they've combed through their lashes with mascara, feel the hardened brush of them on your cheek as they whisper in your ear.

"Don't give those rotting old bastards sorcerers the satisfaction of looking at the top of your head."

When they pull away, you feel like you can breathe again.

"I will be placing the wataboshi for you, Young Master."

You nod, the ache in your shoulders disappearing.

Wearing white is to symbolize your bride's willingness to be dyed in the grooms colours. Satoru thinks that's a bit of a dramatic description. It sounds more ominous than it does romantic.

He grunts as his servants tie the endless seams and cords. Folding it, smoothing it out — Satoru feels more like fresh dough being kneaded than he does a groom. The servants hasten their pace. He feels worn out. A vein on the side of his head pulsing as he reminds himself to unclench his jaw.

He can see himself in the reflection of the tri-fold mirror before him. He looks proper. Dressed in a black haori, with the striking white emblem of his clan on either fold.

Willingness to be dyed in his colours?

He sighs, furrowing his brows to keep his eyes hidden away. A servant asks if he needs anything, he waves their concerns away and tells them to continue.

"Are you sure if this is what you wish to do, Satoru?" his mother's voice echoes in his mind.

"I won't allow him to be humiliated further because of my actions. I have to be responsible. I have to marry him."

"You have to marry him?" she arches a brow his way, lifting the cup of tea to her lips as she watches him.

"You're mistaken, Satoru. The only one with power in deciding if this marriage is not the (L/N) Clan. It's us. It's you."

(Y/N)'s decisions do not matter. You accepted his dowry. Refused any other, is what she's telling him. The Gojo Clan's status is leagues above yours. If you refuse to marry him, Satoru can't imagine the ridicule you'll face. Your father — and his new bride — would cast you out.

It sickens him how weak you are. Your social standing is already so fickle, your clan just beginning to shake the fleas of the lower ringed trash from its fur. You deserve better than this.

You deserved choices.

He had never seen someone more devoted to sorcerer politics than you. You were a good son, a dutiful son.

Yet, your fate is in his hands. If he rejects your hand, you'll be humiliated. If he continues this path, he fears for your happiness. You'll be forever tainted by Satoru regardless of the choices he makes.

Forever dyed in his colours.

He flutters his eyes open, straightening his shoulders as the weight of the kimono reminds him of your red-rimmed eyes. The day of your mother's funeral, your hands healing him and washing him away from grime and filth while Suguru's marks were still so dark and blooming.

What a good husband you'd be.

He can't allow you to be shunned by your family, by sorcerer society.

He has to save you. He has to honour you. He has to.

Because he loves you. He has to.

He has to.

For you.

He'd do this for you.

Satoru looked handsome. You can barely seen him from underneath the hood, keeping your gaze ahead at the back of a shrine servant's head as he leads both you and your soon-to-be-husband towards the shrine.

It rained a little earlier, the sky was no longer gloomy so it provided the scenery with a shimmering quality. The leaves of the old ginkos tree decorating the grounds with its golden and orange leaves; every sway of its branches speckling light onto the puddles of rainwater which makes it shine like a gem.

The servant with the peculiar hair, they held a red umbrella over both you and Satoru's hair as your procession continues.

"You look beautiful," Satoru says. You eyes widen. In all the hubbub, the chaos after your mother's funeral, your father's marriage, preparing for your own, missions slipped between here and there. You'd forgotten this side of Satoru.

This unabashed mouth of his. With that sharp curl and those perfect teeth and blushed lips. His voice sounds so light despite the heavy cloud that'd been lingering over your heads.

The Star Plasma Incident, Geto Suguru's betrayal, your marriage.

Your refuse to let your eyes water. If Satoru can be this strong, then you will be just as strong as he is.

"I'm sure you do to," he turns his head. Not that you can see it. Hence, the joke. Satoru smiles your way and you're glad this hood protects you from more than just wind, dust, and dirt. Because the sight of his smile would make your palms clammy and your heart flutter.

It gives you too much hope. It is your wedding day. Most would say hoping wouldn't be too egregious. You'll be performing your marriage before the shrine gods after all, praying to them for happiness and wealth in your future with your husband.

Satoru reaches for you, slipping his black sleeves through the divot of your elbow and steadying you as you climb the steps. From behind you, your step-mother awws at the display.

You're sure Lady Gojo is curling her nose at her voice behind her handheld fan. This fills you with a little vicious delight.

The gods should hate you for this, but you swallow down that guilt as Satoru hitches you closer.

You enter the Pavilion, admiring the architecture and care of the shrine masters and maidens. You feel hope building in your chest. Despite your best efforts, it begins to lift its head. This shrine has seen so many marriages. Such as the marriage of Satoru's own parents, and his parent's parents.

Despite being arranged, despite being loveless in the beginning, they seemed happy.

Your wedding robes descend on your shoulders again and the scent of incense wafts up your nose.

Your mother's final breath echoes in your ears.

You feel your throat close up.

The priest is announcing to the gods of your marriage with Satoru and all you can feel is nausea. He stands next to you and your head is held high, the elders and higher ups watch from the sides and you hope they can't see the way your mouth presses into a thin line.

Satoru is wearing black. He wore black to the funeral too and your mother, white. Your brain does that thing again — making correlations out of thin air.

You are not not a walking corpse. Satoru was not a man grieving. You are both getting married. You are supposed to celebrate. This is not a funeral. This is not an unfortunate event.

The shrine maiden before you offers Satoru a sakazuki dish filled with sake.

This ritual feels mocking. Satoru doesn't even enjoy drinking. His taste buds were akin to a child's. He prefers sweets, sometimes you marvel at how he hasn't gotten a cavity. So you wonder how his face is like when he takes his sips — despite the eyes on you, you turn to see.

He does not grimace. Not even a twitch in his brows. He takes one sip, the second, then finishes the sake.

His mother had told you that the first sip is to show appreciation to the heavens above and for their ancestors. The shrine maidens hands you a cup and you carefully hold it in your hands.

Fuck your ancestors. What have they ever given you?

Still, you bring the rim of the dish to your lips and take two sips, tipping the cup for the final one.

The second set of cups are supposed to symbolize you. The couple. It's a vow for you to care for each other for as long as you live.

Satoru's lips press over the edge, he drinks and drinks and drinks. He does not grimace, he does not falter. He closes his eyes, breathing out slowly as he hands the maiden his cup.

You watch. Entranced. Hoping to see a frown, a sign that he does not want this.

You take your cup and drink.

The third is meant for fertility. Both you and Satoru drink, ignoring the curl of the elders lips or the disdain in the others.

Fuck them, the both of you thought together.

You're offered a wooden comb and carefully wrap it in cloth before holding it between your palms, holding your pressed thumbs to your chest as you pray.

It is Satoru's turn to watch. He can see your lashes across your cheeks, the colour painted on your lips glimmering like the rain droplets on those golden leaves.

You were breathtaking.

When you stepped out of the car, he knew the old fucks were expecting a good laugh. Seeing you dressed in bridal garbs, with a veil, makeup and effeminate — they did not laugh. They drank you in, eyes widening at your beauty. It fueled Satoru with pride.

You're turning, Satoru blinks for a moment but turns to face you as well. You hold it between your palms and he cups his hands over yours. His large hands covering yours as he accepts the comb in front of the attendees.

This is a symbol of his determination, of his willingness, to make this marriage work.

He connects his gaze with yours and your lips finally part to allow you to breathe. He nods and your finger twitches for a moment but you give him the comb.

He then turns to offer it to the gods.

The sun is beginning to shine, clouds blowing away as you continue the next part; the reading of the vows to the gods.

He unravels the scroll, offering you the other end and you press your shoulders together as you both held it.

He reads;

"On this great day, before the Great Gods, we are wed. We are eternally grateful for this blessed ceremony. From today, we vow to love each other, to trust one another, to be there for each other for the good times and the bad; we promise that this will stay unchanged throughout our lifetime."

He reads out today's date. He reads out his title as your husband, then his name, and you swallow your nausea as you read out your title as his husband, then your name. You help him fold the paper back, hoping he didn't see how your hands tremble.

The shrine maidens come to your sides with a sprig of leaves. You both take it, hold the stem to between your fingers and the leaves to your head. Lady Gojo had told you this sprig would carry your thoughts and prayers through the end to the gods.

You hope they do not hear your cynical thoughts, your fears, your anxieties; you hope they can only feel the little bits of hope for happiness you're desperately wishing for.

Finally, finally, comes the exchanging of wedding bands.

Satoru's eyes softened as you slip his on. It's beautiful, intricate up close and simple from afar. The gem in the centre twinkling shyly under his gaze. You can't help but smile as he holds your hand in his, preciously slipping on your ring.

The silver glinting under the sun, as did the gem embedded in it. It was your favourite colour. He remembered.

The shrine maidens disperse, pouring sake into the cups of the guests and the both of you tenderly hold each others hands as you finally face them.

Gojo's parents watch on proudly, your father looked smug, his wife weepy as she blinks up at the heavens.

"Congratulations!"

They cheer, downing the sake, in celebration for your union and to Satoru's ascension as head of his clan.

You've done it, son. You imagine that's what your fathers expression is trying to convey. A well done nod sent your way.

You slip your fingers loose from Satoru.

"I know you're watching," Satoru grumbles as he slips his sunglasses on. The wedding was still ongoing, families dining together, and he excused himself for some fresh air while you changed into a more comfortable kimono.

"I felt it from the goddamn entrance of the shrine."

"He looked gorgeous," Suguru speaks from behind the body of a tree, twisting a gold leaf in between his fingers. "He's always been handsome, did those old fucks think putting him in white would be funny?"

Satoru does not answer. He simply stares at Suguru and yet, his wedding ring burns. He brings his gaze to it, flexing his fingers in an attempt to get rid of the phantom sensation.

"You here to give a wedding gift?" Satoru asks. Suguru turns and smiles. He had put his hair in a half-up-half-down hairdo. It suited him. A lot.

"Your hairs' gotten longer," Satoru's cheek twitch as the ring warms again. Suguru just offers a laugh, reaching into his robe and pulling out an envelope. He offers it to Satoru, who stares down at it.

"You actually gave us a wedding gift?" Satoru scoffs. Not yet reaching for it.

"It'd be rude of me not to."

"...Keep it."

Satoru tells a servant to speak from behind the sliding doors, effectively making them squeak in alarm as she stutters out that you're ready to step back into the fray.

"I'll be there shortly."

"Mah, Satoru — "

"Don't." He snaps out, glaring at Suguru.

"Don't." He says, softly now.

Suguru's eyes widen, his hurt evident as he gazes up at him.

"I'm sure your new church will need the money more than we do."

They say nothing to each other. Satoru turns to head back inside. Suguru's hands fall.

He hopes the Gods do not see this. He hopes the Gods can't hear how fast his heart is beating and how it breaks as he slides the doors close.

Satoru walks in just as you do. This kimono is less heavy, you move with a lightness in your step and no longer in stark white but instead in a gorgeous blue. The fabric dyed a darker colour at the ends to balance out the bright hues — the colour of your skin harmonizing the colours together just like your hair.

You looked at him, brows pinching at the sight of his sunglasses.

"Are you in pain?"

He should ask you that, shouldn't he?

After all you've been through, he should ask if you were hurt.

He shakes his head, smiling as he takes them off.

You're stronger then that. Pitying you, babying you, reopening the wounds you have — there was no need for that. You were his husband now, he will bare your burdens together. As he vowed to do in front of the gods.

He slips his arm through yours.

"Never. Not with you by my side, beloved."

You roll your eyes at him, ignoring how hot your cheeks feel at his lame attempt.

Maybe...maybe this could work, you tell yourself. Today went by so smoothly, it must be a sign.

Maybe you can be happy.

[thefeverburningalive]

ִ ࣪𖤐.ᐟ 𝖳𝖾𝗇 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌 𝖨 𝖧𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖠𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖸𝗈𝗎.

billie eilish x f!reader

chapter one

summary: due to the recent new rule given to your sister by your father, some meddling parties decide the easiest way to get you to date is by paying somebody to take you out. who better to do so then the hot mysterious delinquent?

a/n: hii omg first series! if you haven’t seen the actual movie 10 things i hate about you i totally recommend it’s so cute and i love it sm:) clearly i love it sm i wrote a fic about it! this first part is more of a set up for the rest of the series but it’ll be so so worth itttt. anyways yeah i hope you guys love it feel free to comment or anything and lmk if you’re interested in a tag list!! mwah<3

genre: slow burn, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, enemies(ish) to lovers, lowk fboy billie but not actually, eventual topics of drinking & high school parties

warnings: none!

word count: 2.4k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

“okay then,, what did everyone think of ‘the sun also rises’?” the voice of mr. morgan echos throughout the classroom. soon after a bubbly red head girl speaks up. “i loved it! it was soooo romantic.” romantic? what a joke. you had read the same work of literature of course, along with a plethora of others. the average student didn’t do half as much reaserch as you do, going out of your way to read the very works of hemingway, shakespeare and others. not only did you read their works but you studied their lives. did this girl even know anything about hemingway?? men like him don’t know anything about love- much like every other person. you had no patience for this today. “romantic? hemingway?! he was an abusive alcoholic misogynist who squandered half his life hanging around picasso trying to nail his leftovers.” as the people around you roll their eyes, you couldn’t care less. you’re a women with strong beliefs and opinions, you had the right to express whatever you wanted. especially when you’re right. of course right on time your least favorite person decided to now speak his own mind. joey donner. the air headed, pretentious, self centered, jock, who took every advance he could get his hands on to get under your skin. not only that but he’d also been seen hanging around your sister. “as apposed to being a self-righteous hag who has no friends?” you refused to even look his direction. you had no issues with how you are, it’s how you’ve always been. making friends with mindless hormone filled teenagers was a complete waste of your time, besides, you in-fact had one friend. the rest of the class snickers and giggles while joey gets a fist bump from one of his other jock buddies. how could someone applaud his behavior? “i guess in this society being male and an asshole makes you worthy of our time. what about sylvia plath? or charlotte bronte? or simone de beauviour?” you started to raise your voice, trying to be heard over the nonsense being said around the class. unfortunately, your comment only causes more uproar and mockery. “hey! hey!!” mr. morgan tries to regain the attention of the class as joey raises his hand. “um mr. morgan is there any chance we could get y/n to take her mydol before she comes to class?” you where now fuming. you couldn’t even focus on anything else the teacher continued to say, even if he was putting joey in his place. this is why you can’t stand the thought of love or romance. it causes nothing but issues, even when it’s only being discussed. your attention is grasped once again when mr. morgan now turns to you. “y/n. thank you for your point of view-“ you start to smirk. “-i know how difficult it must be for you to overcome all those years of upper middle class suburban oppression. must be tough” within a split second your smirk deflates and turns into a scoff. so just because you grew up comfortable means you can’t understand the bullshit that goes on in society?? what bullshit.

before you knew it the end of the day was here. you arrived back at home a few minutes before your sister, bianca. bianca was the complete opposite of you. take away the fact that she’s two years younger than you, she was bubbly, friendly, popular, liked, and very ‘cutsey’. to say you two didn’t always get along was an understatement. as you walked through the living room your father sparks conversation. “hello y/n. make anyone cry today?” he speaks with a generally monotoned voice while reading the news paper, a slight smirk decorating his face. “sadly no, buuut it’s only 4:30.” joking around with your dad was always one of the highlights of your day. soon after your remark your sister skips through the door. “hi daddy!” bianca tries to continue to skip passed the entire encounter. but of course you weren’t going to let her do that. “and where have you been?” you say with a sarcastically bubbly tone. you’re met with a sour glare as she claims she’d been ‘nowhere’. “hey dad why don’t you ask bianca who drove her home today?” your dad suddenly snaps out of his probably boring newspaper. “who drove you home??” hah. busted. that’s what she gets for hanging around joey. he’s no good and you just want to protect her. “now don’t be upset daddy, but there is this boy..” you cut her off before she even gets to finish. “-who’s a flaming imbecile!” bianca gives you a glare. “and i think he’s gonna ask me out!” that’s all your father had to hear before he starts to go on a rant about boys and dating. your dad had always been very very clear about dating in high school, making the number one rule of the house ‘no dating till you graduate’. “can we just focus on me for a second please? i am literally the only girl in high school who’s not dating!!” you sit back with your arms crossed on the couch listening to the two of them go back and fourth. it was honestly very amusing. “oh no you’re not, your sister doesn’t date.” this makes bianca throw her arms up in frustration. “y/n’s a freak! she comes from planet loser!” ouch? well if she was going to insult you it was fair game to insult back. you stand up, taking a step closer. “at least i don’t act like some bimbo prancing around going ‘oo look at me look at me!!’” at that point your dad steps between the two of you before she could even rebuttal. “how about this, old rule out new rule in..” he turns to bianca. “you can date..” he stops and looks over at you. “..when she does!” well- there goes bianca’s chances of going on a date for the rest of her life. “but she’s a mutant! what if she never dates?!” the question makes your father audibly laugh as he starts to leave the house, most likely on his way to a shift at the hospital. bianca looks at you with a grunt and storms off to her room.

the next day

bianca sits in the library pissed off, waiting for her french tutor, cameron. as soon as he arrives she sits up. “hey soo can we make this quick? theres gonna be a huge public break up in the quad in like 15 minutes.” bianca could care less about learning french. if she couldn’t date she at least still wanted to stay in the ‘it’ crowd. “oh uhm yeah sure.. but i was thinking i- uhm- maybe french food-? like me and you? sometime?” the nervous boy fiddles with his organized binder infront of him. “i-i know your dad doesn’t let you date.. but uhm- i thought that if it was for french class..” his nervous sentance sparks an idea inside of bianca. “wait a minute- my dad just came up with a new rule. i can date when my sister does!” the boy infront of her suddenly shakes off his nervous demeanor and starts to get excited. “oh! well in that case! how do you feel about italian food?” bianca puts her hands down on the desk that seperates the two. “slow your roll buddy. minor issue at hand with that. if you hadn’t heard, my sister is a particularly ridiculous breed of loser. she just doesn’t do relationships. i have no idea why. she used to be popular a couple years ago but then she just like- got tired of it or something. some people say it’s cause she’s like a girl lover or something but im pretty sure she’s just incapable of human interaction. plus, shes a bitch.” cameron takes a minute to take in all of what bianca’s just told him, the gears turning in his head to try and piece together a plan of action. “well i mean, there’s gotta be someone into her.. aggressive.. personality?” bianca then puts her hand over his. “you’d really try and find someone to date her for me?” she bats her prissy little eyelashes at him, inevitably making him blush. “y-yeah sure thing.” and with that bianca says her thank you and goodbye and exists the empty library.

unfortunately for cameron, the task of finding a date for y/n stratford was farthest thing from easy. after about an hour of going around asking, and getting a lot of negative backlash, he starts to lose hope. “this is hopeless dude. everyone thinks she’s like evil or something!” he groans sitting down next to his friend on a bench outside. “no no cam listen- you’re just not looking for the right type of person. look at her.” he then points to none other than billie o’connell. she was leaning against a wall, cigarette in hand, conversing with her friend zoe. billie was known as a delinquent. she skipped class, smoked cigarettes, disobeyed most instructions, and didn’t give a damn what other people said. she was the perfect candidate. she was hot- there was no denying that. she was also known for being a huge flirt with the ladies. if anyone was up to the task, it was billie. “ok that’s great but also she’s scary.. and how do we know she’ll even do it? she seems like the type of person to only do things for herself.” cameron makes a valid point, to which his friend micheal puts an arm around him. “you have to learn how to play the game my friend. if there’s one thing all outcasts want, it’s money. now obviously we don’t have any- but if we had a backer then we could get someone else to pay billie thinking that he’s gonna get to be with bianca but in reality you sweep in and steal her away!” as crazy as the planned sounded, it was pretty solid. especially since joey had shown special interest in bianca and definitely had money to spare. after some sweet talking and convincing, cameron and micheal successfully convince joey to take part in their scheme. all joey had to do was ask billie. “yo. o’connell.” joey approaches billie and zoe while they sit out in one of the many courtyards the school has to offer. billie glances at joey, noticing him walking over. she fixes her navy blue baseball cap and smirks. “sorry big shot, i don’t swing that way.” her and zoe chuckle while joey rolls his eyes. “real funny. listen. i’ve got a proposition for you.” billie listens, showing no expression on her face. “see that girl over there? that’s y/n stratford. i want you to go out with her.” billie lets out a hearty laugh, even leaning her head back as she continues to keep her arms crossed and legs spread out. billie’s display of laughter aggravates joey, he lets out a sigh and continues to speak. “look i can’t take her sister out until y/n dates. and she’s impossible. i’ll compensate you for the favor.” the word ‘compensate’ makes billie’s ears turn on, she leans her elbows onto her knees and interlocks her hands. “and how much are you offering exactly?” she glares up at him, asserting her dominance. “twenty bucks.” billie scoffs. “ok fine- thirty bucks.” joey adds on, making billie catch onto his desperation. she then stands up, putting her hands in the pockets of her baggy janco jeans. “well let’s think about this. we go and see a movie and that’s uh- twenty five bucks. we get popcorn and snacks and shit and that brings us to about fifty. then of course she’ll want a drink to wash down the junk food, and by the end of the night you’re looking at about seventy five bucks.” the jock crosses his arms and takes a step closer to billie. “this ain’t a negotiation. take it or leave it.” billie smiles and sighs, glancing over at zoe, then back at joey. “fifty bucks and we’ve got a deal.” and before anyone knew it, joey was taking a fifty dollar bill out of his wallet and aggressively slamming it into billie’s hand.

you’re on the soccer field, sitting down on one of the benches as you get ready to leave practice. you start to change out of your cleats as you feel a presence approach you. “well hey there mamas. how ya doin’?” the sound of billie’s voice, along with the stink of her lit cigarette, pulls you up from what you where previously doing. you take a moment to look her up and down. she’s wearing a bright yellow jersey for some team you didn’t recognize. she paired it with some baggy jeans, beat up nikes, and a navy blue la baseball cap, her neck decorated with various necklaces and chains. you didn’t know much about her, aside from her name and the fact that she was sort of a rebel. after the brief observation, you raise an eyebrow in question at her before answering her question. “sweating like a pig actually. and you?” your tone was a mix between condescending, cocky, and unamused with a bit of sarcasm- your usual tone. billie chuckles and puts out her cigarette. “now there’s a way to get a girl attention, huh?” the comment makes you cringe. that’s the last thing you want. you respond as you roll your eyes. “my mission in life. but obviously i struck your fancy so as you see it works.” the annoyance and sarcasm where basically leaking out of your pores. you grab your soccer bag and start to walk away. of course, billie starts to follow you. “pick you up friday then?” you’re somewhat shocked at her boldness, and her persistence- you’re still annoyed either way though. “oh yeah. friday. of course” you start to speed up your walk and head toward the student parking lot. billie eventually stops following you, taking a moment to just observe you. yes you are a bitch, there was no denying that. you’re dismissive, arrogant, closed off- but you’re also smart. confusing. beautiful. a puzzle for billie to try and solve. and billie is always up for a challenge, especially when there’s money involved.

to be continued..