#billy washington x ofc

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

To Surrender

Billy Washington x female

Summary: Before her, Billy had never appreciated his hands. | Word Count: 2.1k~ | Warnings: choking, smut, p in v, doggy style

Before her, Billy had never appreciated his hands.

He thought women were more interested in how tall he was, how broad, how strong, how funny. The thought of having to live up to all of these expectations was absolutely daunting. And he often felt, before this relationship, that he was unable to reach them, never mind achieve them.

He wasn't funny. Or strong, he thought.

But since meeting her. Since she allowed her heart to curl around him like a tight embrace, he found that she liked the little, more subtle things about him.

Like when he blinks slowly and dreamily when he's had two pints, smiling like a lovesick teenager. How the dimple presses into his rosy, sun-kissed skin when he genuinely laughs at something. And how, every time he changes gear, he rests the hand he'd used for the gear stick rests on her knee with an affectionate squeeze that mirrors the feeling in her chest.

What he'd never considered was that sometimes women liked hands.

He remembered thinking, since fucking when, when she told him how much she likes them. How big they are and how long and slender the fingers, but still thicker than hers.

He admits, at first he thought it was quite cute. Thinking she meant it was because his hands were easy to hold.

But he never imagined he'd be stark bollock naked, on top of her in bed, and staring at her mouth agape, when she'd asked him to put them around her neck.

“You want me to what?”

He'd barely gotten the words out before she was guiding his hands to her throat, her gaze locked onto his with hunger. "Trust me," she whispered, her voice sultry. "I need to feel them...just like this."

Billy hesitated, feeling the thrum of her pulse under his fingertips. He wasn't new to the world of kinks, but this was different. There was a level of intimacy here that he hadn't expected, a rawness that made his heart beat faster.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice softer now, almost a murmur. His fingers felt foreign against the delicate skin of her throat. He could sense the trust she was placing in him, and it both thrilled and terrified him.

"Please," she breathed, her eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. "You won't hurt me.”

This wasn’t just about trust, it was about her need to be seen, to be understood in a way that went beyond words or gestures. She wanted to feel him, to feel his control, to know that in his hands, she could let go completely. He ran his thumb gently along her jawline, his touch featherlight, and watched as she sighed, her body relaxing beneath his. Her neck was so fragile, so delicate, and yet she was asking him to take command of it, to exert force.

Slowly, he tightened his grip, just enough to press her skin lightly around his palm. He could feel her pulse quicken, matching the rapid beat of his own heart. Her breath hitched, but there was no fear in her eyes when she opened them to meet his gaze. Only a deep, burning need.

"Tell me if it’s too much," he whispered, his voice thick with the weight of the moment.

She nodded, her lips parting as she exhaled slowly, her body arching slightly beneath him as if to push herself further against the hardness that was pressed against her thigh. The sensation of her soft skin beneath his rough hands, the trust she placed in him, was electrifying.

He would never truly forget the first squeeze of her warmth around his length, even after all the times they'd slept together. It was a feeling he couldn't describe, guiding the fat head of his cock to disappear inside her, sending a jolt of white hot pleasure right up his spine.

The shaky moan that slipped through his lips made her smile, seeing the effect her body had on him would never ever get old. With a soft roll of his hips, near-pulled entirely from her, he pushed inside again, deeper this time, his movements slow and deliberate, savouring the way she enveloped him.

A soft moan escaped her as his fingers tightened just a little more, the pressure firm but controlled. Her reaction was immediate, responding with a mixture of surrender and eagerness, her eyes fluttering closed again as she let herself be lost by the sensation.

“Harder-”

With a firm, almost possessive grip, Billy used his hold on her neck to keep her exactly where he wanted her, maintaining control as he rutted into her. She gasped at the pressure, her body instinctively responding. The way she remained perfectly in place, held steady by his grip, sent a surge of satisfaction through him, her submission fueling his desire. Every movement was precise, guided by the way his hand anchored her, ensuring she stayed in sync with him, exactly as he needed.

His grip on her neck remained strong, but his voice softened, filled with a rough tenderness as he spoke. “That’s it…”

His grip tightened just a fraction more, asserting his control as he thrust into her, each movement rougher and deeper than the last as he hooked one of her legs over his shoulder. The bed creaked beneath them, the sound of their bodies moving together filling the room, but it was the low, soft sounds she made that drove him wild. Her breath came in sharp gasps, each one a mix of pleasure and submission, her moans growing louder as he pushed her further.

Her hands clutched at his arms, nails digging into his skin as she struggled to hold onto something, anything, that could ground her in the overwhelming intensity of it all. But Billy didn’t falter, he pulled her close, controlling every movement, every breath she took.

“You’re perfect,” he breathed, a broken whimper escaping him as she tried to suck in air, the sensation mirrored around his length as her walls fluttered around him.

Her response was a broken moan, her body writhing against his, completely at his mercy. With each thrust, he drove deeper, his pace relentless as he pulled her onto him again and again, using the grip to remind her of who was in control. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as she struggled to keep up with the intensity of his pace, her moans mixing with the sound of skin against skin.

Billy could feel the pressure building within her, the way her body tensed as she teetered on the edge of release. He wanted to push her over, to make her fall apart in his hands, but he wasn’t done yet. Not until he had taken everything she had to give.

With a soft, teasing kiss to her lips, he pulled back and she inhaled shakily, his hands sliding down to her hips, guiding her to shift positions. She followed his lead, moving onto her hands and knees, her back arching naturally.

He took a moment to admire the view, the way her body curved so perfectly, skin flushed with anticipation. His gaze travelled lower, lingering on the enticing swell of her buttocks, the way her hips flared out, inviting him to touch, to savour every inch of her. But what caught his attention most were his own hands, now grasping her waist firmly. If this is why she liked his hands so much, he could certainly see why.

“Billy…” she whined, her voice trembling with need as she shifted her hips slightly, pressing back against him in a silent plea.

He chuckled softly, enraptured, his hands still exploring, caressing her in a way that was both gentle and maddeningly slow. “You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he murmured, voice thick with admiration.

With deliberate slowness, he ran his hands over her hips, savouring the feel of her, before letting one hand glide up her spine. When he reached the small of her back, he flattened his palm against it, gently pressing her down just enough to arch her further, giving him a better angle as he positioned himself behind her.

With one hand still on her lower back, he guided himself into her, sliding back in slowly as if slotting into place, relishing every inch as he filled her completely. The new angle made her gasp, the arch of her spine intensifying the sensation, her hands gripping the sheets as he began to move, the pace steady but firm.

Rocking his hips, Billy couldn't tear his eyes away as he watched himself sink into her again and again. He tangled his hand in her hair, gently pressing her face into the pillow, muffling her moans. A haze settled over her, making her head feel light and blissfully fuzzy.

His other hand slid down her back, gripping her hip to pull her even closer, deepening the angle with each thrust. Every sound she made, even muffled by the pillow, sent a jolt of electricity through him, fueling his desire to take her harder, faster.

He tightened his grip on her hair, pulling her head back just enough to hear her voice more clearly. His hips moved faster, his thrusts becoming more urgent, more desperate.

“Billy,” she gasped, her voice strained as she reached back to clutch at his arm, her body trembling beneath him. The way she said his name, the way she squeezed around him, almost undid him right then and there.

His hand slid from her hip to where they were joined, his fingers finding that sensitive spot that he knew would send her over the edge. He rubbed tight circles, his breath coming in harsh pants as he felt her body tense beneath him.

“Fuck- come for me,” he whispered, his voice low and rough with urgency.

Her breath caught in her throat as she shattered, her release crashing over her like a wave. The way she pulsed around him, the way she cried out his name, sent him hurtling over the edge with her.

With a deep, guttural moan, Billy buried himself inside her one last time, his release surging through him with an intensity that left him shaken. As the aftershocks of their shared release began to fade, he eased his grip on her hair, his touch turning gentle as he smoothed the strands away from her face. “Back on earth?”

She turned her head slightly, her face flushed and glowing with the afterglow, and gave him a soft, blissful smile. “I don’t think I ever want to come back.”

Billy chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the back of her neck before slowly pulling out, the loss of her warmth making him shiver.

As Billy pulled away, he caught sight of a faint red mark around her neck, right where his hand had been. His heart skipped a beat, a rush of panic surging through him.

“Shit,” he whispered, his voice thick with worry. “Did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to-”

She quickly turned to face him, placing a reassuring hand over his. “Billy, it’s okay. I’m fine, really.”

His eyes searched hers, still filled with uncertainty. “I never wanted to leave a mark… I just-”

“I know,” she interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. “You were perfect, I promise. I liked it.”

Billy let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, fuck me, that’s a relief. I’m really not sure how to explain this one if anyone asks though.”

She grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Oh, I’m sure we could come up with a story,” she teased, her fingers trailing up his chest. “Maybe I’ll just say I was…attacked…or something.”

He snorts in response, “yeah for some reason I doubt they'll believe that,” he leans back, one hand tugging around her waist, “maybe just keep this between us,” he jokes, wrinkling his nose playfully.

“Hm,” she smiles, their noses brushing. “Maybe next time how about we make sure it's a bit less… visible?”

Billy's eyes glimmer with affection, and a small hint of admiration that she is here, right before him, in his bed, and all his.

“Suppose I can manage that.”

...

General Taglist: @1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blackswxnn @blairfox04

@buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @eddieslut69 @emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa

@hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust @minholy223 @mochi-rose

@natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics @primonizzutto @qyburnsghost

[lynnbeth5172]

Random story idea iii

Twenty two, that was how old he’ll be in a week. Twenty two yet failing to even get a job.

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Billy Washington feels like he’s at rock bottom, he hasn’t gotten a job and is still living with his sister. He runs into an old friend who may help him back on his feet.

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Okay so…I’ve worked on a chapter for this so I do have a small bit done.

Also small trigger warning: there are mentions of Nora (Billy’s friend) having an ED, also ptsd mentions as well as a few other things up ahead.

Small taglist: @bellaisasleep @knewwaver @liv-cole

[evita-shelby]

To do list

Eva x Tommy being domestic in their old age

Add some 300 or more words to ch.16 of Incantatrice

Time traveler!Diane (a la Ministery of Time/Ministerio del Tiempo) x Ewan Mitchell characters(Osferth, Tom Bennett, Abraham, Billy Washington, Genyen/Shawn) (bonus: Aemond x Diane)

National Anthem ch.2

Johnathan Crane x Eva

[arcielee]

Just different stories from the Ewanverse. I will update whenever I expand like when Saltburn comes out. Please be mindful of tags and warnings!

Dancing in the Dark [World on Fire] Tom Bennett x OFC Summary: War is spilling over Europe and a route is being created to help POWs escape occupied France. Sometimes love does not last forever, but lasts long enough. Warnings: Smut/NSFW later on, some misogyny cause it's the 1940s Author's Note: This is complete, enjoy. ♥

+ + + +

It's Not Tonight [World on Fire] Tom Bennett x Female!Reader Summary: Tom Bennett slips in through your window. Warnings: Tom is a scoundrel, angst from a one night stand, masturbating, a smidge of voyeurism, kissing, grinding, sexual memories recalled fondly but also bitterly, overstimulation kinda?

Lazy Sunday [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: Billy enjoys a lazy Sunday with you. Warnings: Comfort fic with some smutty smut, oral (f receiving).

Billy x you drabble [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: This exists in the same AU as Lazy Sunday! Warnings: Nothing, just some fluff to soothe the soul.

Closing Time [Trigger Point] Billy Washington x Female!Reader Summary: You and Billy do your best to make time for one another. Warnings: Semi-public sex, kissing shenanigans, teasing, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected.

arcie's navi

[lya-dustin]

The Ewanverse Family Tree

for shits and giggles and A Comedy of Non-Mathematical Errors

a collaboration by @toms-cherry-trees @elizarbell @huramuna

Family tree

9th and 10th century

(the last kingdom)

Osferth + unknown wife

19th century

Mr. and Mrs. Bennett

(World on Fire)                                                                     

Douglas Bennett + Josie Bennett 

-Tom Bennett                                                            

-Lois Bennett 

Vera Chase

(The Halycon)

Margaret ‘Peggy’ Bennett+ Mr. Taylor

William ‘Billy’ Taylor

unknown sister

(Granchester)

Unknown Bennett sibling

-Abraham

20th century

Bennett Family post wwii

Tom Bennett + Diane Shelby (oc)

-Thomas Bennett Jr(oc)

-Elizabeth Bennett (oc)

Bennett Family

1960s

(Saltburn)

Tom Jr + some rich girl he met in Oxford in the 60s (unclear how he became a peer)

Elspeth Catton

Eadmund Bennett (basis GRRM used for Aemond Targaryn)

Micah Bennett

Lizzie + several unnamed men she hooked up with during the 60s and 70s

Billy Washington’s mom, Val Washington(Trigger Point)

Will from Salad Days’ dad

Jack from Fire’s mom

Bennett Family

1980s-1990s

Tom Jr's kids and grandkids

Elspeth + Sir James Catton

-Michael Cherwell Catton

-Felix River Catton

-Venetia Trinity Catton

Eadmund Bennett + Alice Rivers

-Ettore Rivers

Micah Bennett (via sperm donation)

Genyen/Shawn (Doctors)

Lizzie’s grandkids

Lana and Billy Washington (Trigger Point)

Will(Salad Days)

Jack and his brother (Fire)

Daniel from the veggie addicts video

Every single small role Ewan has ever been on

[assortedseaglass]

The Ashes In My Wake

Request: Please may I request something with Billy Washington? Perhaps something where he is jealous/possessive over his lady. We don’t have enough Billy content and you write him so well!

@bouncehousedemons

Billy Washington x Unnamed OFC

Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, Trigger Point spoilers(ish)

Word Count: 2K

Note: I’m taking so long with requests but c’est la vie

The bass from the speakers rattled his every organ, but the thrum of guitar and the singer’s rasping voice were warped by the breath ringing in his ears. All around him, the crowd brayed with laughter, pulsed and lurched, shouted words to songs Billy didn’t know. Some edged away from him with disgusted looks. Others laughed. A few were scrabbling at him, their hands pouring from the darkness to pull him away.

Billy hadn’t meant to do it. Not really. Dark spaces crammed with writhing, sweaty bodies weren’t his scene. Give him a pint of pilsner at the pub any day. But when she’d begged him, arms wrapped about the small of his waist, fingers absentmindedly tracing the freckles of his stomach, he’d caved. Surely he owed her something? She had dinner at his parents’, somehow got Lana to like her, let him fuck her. Even dragged him away from those pathetic, self-mutilating thoughts. One night peppered with furtive cigarettes in the piss-stained alley and a quick jägerbomb or three at the bar while she danced her heart out couldn’t hurt. Not him at least.

He'd been gone three minutes, fidgeting with the ring on his index finger, pint of whatever’s cheapest and some water, when his discomfort turned into something more sinister. Sure, he’d wanted to punch the twat’s teeth through the back of his skull the moment he sauntered toward her, the rock of his hips matching perfectly to the sway of hers. Yes, when the dickhead brushed her hair away from her head to whisper something, Billy wanted to pull that stupid fucking neckerchief so hard it made his eyes bulge. But when she threw her head back in laughter and the bellend, with his sleeve of stick and pokes, flashed a vulpine grin with those perfect teeth, Billy’s mind went blank with jealousy. He hadn’t meant to do it, but somehow, he knew that he had.

Over the heads of the crowd, Billy saw two men clad in black weaving towards them. She was screaming at him, hair whipping around her face as she hit his chest. Whatever she shouted was inaudible over the music, her spit flecking his cheeks. The dickhead, with his greaser’s hair and shit tattoos, clutched his nose. At his side, clenched into a ball of perfect rage, Billy’s knuckles were already purpling.

A wayward thud caught him in the sternum and, momentarily breathless, he looked down. Her eyes were red with fury, cheeks flushed from the exertion of dancing and the electricity of her anger, and Billy had to fight not to smile through his hot rage. A hand landed on his shoulder and pulled him backwards. The bouncers.

“Fuck off,” he twisted from their grip and pointed at the twat stood perilously close to his girlfriend. “Don’t fucking touch her again!” The man in the leather jacket stared at him in all his wild-eyed fury, wiped his nose of blood and stepped closer to her.

“You’re a fucking psycho, mate.” He pulled at the collar of his jacket and puffed out his chest. “You need to be put away.”

“Just fuck off!” As he yelled it, so did she. The ghost of a grin shadowed Billy’s face and his heart hammered with pride.

“Don’t think much of your taste, love,” The creep was smiling now, and though he spoke to the woman before him, his eyes bore into Billy’s, whose own fell to his girlfriend. She stared at the man who had so pleased her minutes before. Her face was unreadable, a mixture of anger, exasperation and, was that assent? For a moment, fleeting and pitiable, Billy stilled. The bouncers slackened their hold on his shoulders, and the try-hard backed into the dancing revellers.

“Insecure little prick.”

The stranger knew he was in trouble and his mirthless laughter died. This girl’s fella was scrawny, yes, but when his eyes flickered from her lovely face to his, the pathetic loser he had once seen was replaced by the animal within. It happened almost imperceptibly. The hard nose, carved from stone and no doubt impossible to break, flared with readying breaths. Beneath its shadow, his small scar curved as the thin lips bared across his teeth in a snarl. What scared the man most though, were his eyes. Set beneath a heavy brow, they seemed to flicker under the strobes. With each flash of white, his eyes turned to glass, focused on the man before him and nothing else. Everything about this boy was sharp, and the pain in the stranger’s broken nose seemed to numb. Whatever agony he thought he was in, the next blow would be worse. With a growl and slash of his wiry hands, Billy launched at the cunt.

He caught the man across the face, his nails tearing the skin. Before the bouncers could react or she could intervene, his other fist collided with the underside of the greaser’s ribs. The force of Billy’s punch caused the blood gathered in his nose and the back of his throat to rip past his lips. A few women shrieked and the bouncers leapt suddenly into action. Before they could, two small and solid hands pushed Billy backwards.

“What THE FUCK is wrong with you, Bill?” He stared at her. One of the bouncer’s meaty hands closed around his upper arm and pulled him away.

“What’s wrong with me? WHAT’S WRONG WITH ME!? I didn’t agree come to this shitty gig just to watch you flirt with Danny fucking Zuko!” The man, who had stood aside to laugh at their argument, flinched as Billy lurched forwards once again. The second bouncer gripped a fistful of Billy’s hoodie and yanked, the force causing him to land on his arse. The surrounding crowd oohed and laughed at him. Someone pulled him off the ground and shoved him towards the door. “Fuck off! I’m going.” And without a glance backwards, pushing past bellowing spectators and carrying the last of his pride, Billy stalked from the club.

Drizzle glimmered blue on the black street. Shops were shuttered and a few late-night revellers swayed as they said their goodbyes. Billy took out his phone, her face smiling up at him from the screen. 23.54. He sighed, lit a cigarette and, pulling up the collar of his hoodie, meandered home.

“Traffic light, fag ends, bin, more fag ends, taxi,” His therapist got him to do these stupid lists when he was angry. Five things you can see, four things you can hear…

“Rain, cars, my feet-” The bass of the club still thudded in the distance and Billy kicked a blue bin as he passed it, anger flaring once again. What are you’re hot emotions, Billy? She always asked that. The therapist. After the incident at Cranstead Fields, the hospital prescribed Billy a course of CBT and psychotherapy. The police agreed, saying that if he attended the sessions, the community service he owed due to his attack on the butcher’s could be reduced. Not that any of it was fucking working. He talked until he was blue in the face about Lana and his parents, his rejection from the army, his rejection from work, but the nightmares still came. The car, the bomb, his body scattered across the field…

A dull headache was forming behind his eyes by the time he shut the door of the flat. Vestiges of his life before she had come along still clung to his home; unfolded piles of washing, dishes piling up by the sink, the curtains half open. But there was brightness too. Her coat was hung on the rack. The lounge was now a place to do just that, with cushions and candles and frames hung on the wall. In the fridge, leftovers of the last meal she cooked were waiting for him. He pinched the bridge of his nose and filled the kettle.

Cold showers ease the muscle tension and headaches aroused by angry outbursts.

In the bathroom, her makeup was still scattered across the sink. Billy piled it into the small vanity case she brought when she stayed at his and ran the shower. She’d still be at the gig, and Billy wondered if she’d be dancing with the stranger, or if she’d meant it when she told him to fuck off.

Cold shower having dampened his anger and his spirits, Billy padded towards the kitchen. He thought about calling Thom, but he’d only tell Lana. He thought about emailing his therapist, but it was midnight on a Saturday. There was nothing for it, and Billy did the only thing he could think of. Taking out his phone, he tapped away a quick message, I’m sorry, gone home. Will call in the morning x, and reboiled the kettle.

“I’ve already made you one.” The voice came from the lounge and, ducking his head beneath the frame, Billy saw her sat on the threadbare sofa, staring at the two steaming cups on the coffee table. “I thought we’d talked about this, Bill-”

“Don’t,” he spat, then weakly. “Don’t.”

“Do I need to call Lana?”

“I’m not a child,” he threw himself down in the gaming chair opposite her.

“Could’ve fooled me.”

Silence. They stared at each other a while, both too stubborn to speak. When his leg began to bob in agitation, she sighed and leant forward.

“What happened?”

Billy didn’t speak, choosing instead to pick at the skin of his left palm. It wasn’t until her mug knocked against the table that he said anything.

“You looked so happy,” his voice was a whisper, and were she not so annoyed at him, her heart would have broken.

“Well, yeah, I was,” he could hear annoyance decorating her tender words. “But some guy making me laugh doesn’t mean I’m unhappy with you, Bill.” He didn’t look up, and she moved around the table to kneel below his gaze. “You make me happy, Billy.”

From under the sweep of his golden hair, he watched her, all gentle eyes and kindness despite the way he behaved. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m trying-”

“I know you are, and you’re doing so well.” She clutched at his hands, soothing the skin he had been rubbing. “You’ll get there.” Her hand grazed something cool. The ring she gave him for his birthday was cold against the heat of his swollen knuckles. “For God’s sake, Billy! Take it off.”

He tugged at it aggressively, huffing like a child but it didn’t budge. “I can’t.”

His petulance made her laugh and he frowned, pulling his hand from her grip.

“Don’t be so mardy,” she took back his hand and ran gentle kisses over the bruised skin. God, she was good to him. When she had delicately kissed each knuckle, she turned his hand over so his palm was facing upward. “You make me happy, Billy,” she repeated softly, before taking his ringed finger into her mouth. Billy’s breath caught at the warmth of it, they way her cheeks hollowed, the strain the action put on his trousers.

“Fuck,”

He watched, mesmerised, as she drew back. Her eyes never leaving his, she smiled, the ring held between her teeth. “Fuck,” he said again, when she took him by the hand and led him towards his bedroom.

“Don’t think you’re off the hook, Wash.”

Note: When to an amazing gig at the weekend, but there was one guy there who was an absolute caricature of a 50s greaser. Had to put him in. Writing is hard at the moment because of things but I’m getting back to it as it makes me happy. Joined the Hozier lyrics as fic titles band wagon.

Tagging the old Come Back To Me crew: @jessssica1234 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @greenowlfactif @heimtathurs @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai @targaryenrealnessdarling

[helaelaemond]

ship and let ship

Tagged by @arcielee and encouraged by @sylasthegrim!

Top 10 ships of 2023! I literally have only written for a handful of ships this year - I have had a very one-track mind.

Helaemond - my brainrot started in 2022 (ofc) and has only gotten worse since then. It peaked in June-July, at which point I began to dip my toes into writing reader!fics. - this is my top ship of the decade I fear

Billy Washington x reader (especially @arcielee's little verse, I THINK SHE SHOULD WRITE MORE)

Aegmond / Aegon x Aemond - if I ship one set of siblings, why not another? Heleagon will NEVER be a thing but Aegmond? It's more likely than you think

Ned/Cat - I wrote one chapter for them which counts as making it a top ship this year

Tom Bennett x reader (it was the first reader fic I ever wrote, so he has a special place in my heart! Shoutout to @myfandomprompts' series that has my heart)

Tagging anyone that so wishes to do it!

[randomwriting-misc]

Endangered | Chapter Sixteen

Paul Lahote x OFC

Endangered Masterlist

Summary: Vampires and wolves are not the only supernatural creatures to walk the earth, and they are certainly not the only ones in Forks, Washington when Charlotte Annabeth Swan, “Anna”, moves in with her uncle after the unfortunate demise of her parents.

Some may misidentify her as a witch, but that’s fine, she would rather them think that anyway. But the Volturi know the truth, and they are closing in on her.

A/N: Sorry this took forever. Work got busy and classes started up again, but I’m back! The fall vibes b ring the Twilight vibes. 

As suspected, Bella was not handling the fact Jacob wasn’t answering her calls well. Billy had told her Jacob came down with mono, but she didn’t care. She wanted to see him, come hell or high water.

“Have you heard from him?” she asked me one morning on the drive to school, biting her lip. A tell-tale sign of her anxiety. Her grip tightened on the steering wheel as she glanced at me.

“No, I haven’t,” I say, focusing on the road, hoping if she can’t see my eyes, she can’t tell I’m lying.

“I think I should just go,” she mutters, slumping down in her seat.  

“Mono is highly contagious, Bella.”  

“Not that contagious,” she mutters.

I should have known nothing would change her mind. When Bella Swan has her mind set on something, there’s not much one can do to stop her. It will come to a head eventually.

Eventually came that Saturday morning, as Charlie and Harry were about to head out to go fishing, and I was going to go over to Emily’s.

“Wait!” I yelled at the men walking through the living room, closing the cooler on the table.  

“Here’s lunch,” I say lugging it over to them.

“Thanks, Anna,” Charlie smiles at me, “I appreciate it.”

“Thank you,” Harry follows, and I smile back at them.  

“Have a good time alright?”

Charlie begins to speak but is struck silent by Bella’s voice, his shoulders deflate at the name she speaks sadly into the speaker.

“Jacob?” she says with a frown, “Call me.” Bella slams the phone and turns as Charlie straightens to cover up his concern.

“You know, I don’t have to go today,” he says.  

“Yes, you do,” deadpans Harry, glancing at me with a bit of disdain.

“Yeah, you do. Go. What are you talking about?” she says crossing her arms, pulling herself tight, “Just be careful.”

“Always am,” Charlie replies, a reluctant expression on his face.  

“Those bears won’t get the drop on me, Bella. My kung fu is strong.”  

I can’t help but laugh at Harry, who smiles and gives me a knowing look. With a wink, they both finally walk out the door.  

Bears. That’s what the town had come up with for the missing hikers. It was a bit funny, that the wolves were being mistaken for bears, but I hated how they somehow were taking the blame for a problem they were working so hard to solve. I could tell it bothered them too, no matter how hard Sam and Emily worked to take their minds off of it.  

Once they leave, it’s just us. The silence weighs heavily between them as Bella sulks on the couch.  

“You know, I don’t have to go. I can stay,” I offer half-heartedly.

“No, I know he’s been busy. You should go.”  She waves me off with a sigh, falling over to the side to lay on the couch.

She at least has the energy to be dramatic, that’s a good sign.

She was right though; Paul had been busy. The vampire was always one step ahead of them, and it was all hands-on deck most days.

“Are you sure Bells?” I hesitate to grab my bag by the door, waiting for her answer.

“Yeah, I have homework anyway.”

With a nod, I tell her goodbye and grab my stuff before heading out.

It only takes Bella fifteen minutes before she gets too impatient, she jumps in her truck and makes her way in the same direction.

--------------------------------------------------------------

I jump off the couch, my book slipping from my hands as I yelp in surprise at the noise coming from Emily’s porch.

It’s Jacob, slamming the door to Emily’s house so hard it makes Sam take a step back before opening it for the rest of them. Paul and Jacob look particularly pissed off as they all file in, finding seats around the table. Paul doesn’t even stay or speak. He just gives me a chaste kiss on the head before walking out the back.

“Hey!” I scold Jacob, “Be respectful.”  

Jacob has the decency to look up sheepishly at Emily, “I’m sorry.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time Jake. It’s why the door stays open most of the time,” she smirks, handing him a glass of water.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, walking up to the table, and leaning on the back of Jake’s chair.  

“Bella came over,” Jacob groans.

“Oh shit,” I gasp.

“Yeah, she knows I’m not sick, and she thinks Sam “got to me.” Jacob rolls his eyes as he drops his air quotes, but I can hear the hurt in his voice.

“Great,” I groan, “I cannot wait for her to accuse you all of being in a gang yet again.”  I rub my temples to soothe the oncoming headache I am getting.

“A gang?” Sam perks up with curiosity, “Who thinks we are in a gang?”

I look down at Jake.  

“That’s all you dude,” I pat him on the shoulders twice.

“Yeah, thanks Anna,” he mocks as Sam raises an eyebrow at him. Embry is trying his best not to make eye contact with Sam and Jacob, and I can’t help but laugh.

“You’re welcome!” I exclaim, turning to go check on Paul. Before I can take a step, Jacob moves to grab my hand to stop me.  

“Wait! I might have said something about the Cullen’s to her.” Jake admits.

“Jake” I groan, pressing the heel of my palms into my eyes

“I’m sorry! I just saw her and got so mad.”

“Now she’s definitely going to grill me about how you know and what I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he pouts.

I sigh, “It’s fine. I’m going to check on Paul. What’s the matter with him?”

“Oh, he just really does not like Bella.”

“Sounds about right,” I say exasperatedly.  

Walking outside, Paul is taking deep breaths. I make sure to make noise while walking up to announce my presence before wrapping my arms around him and resting my head on his back.

“Hey,” I whisper, “It’s okay.”  

He nods, shoulders losing a bit of their tension.

“She just continually makes things harder. For you, for Jake…” he trails off, seething.

“I didn’t know you two were close now,” I tease, moving to face him.

Paul shoots me a look.  

“Kidding, I know, pack bond and all” I run my hands through his hair, and he closes his eyes, leaning into the touch.

“It’s not really her fault,” I add quietly.

“Let’s agree to disagree,” he grumbled.

“Paul…”

“Anna, I love you, and I know she is your family, but she has put you through so much. It will take a while for me to get over it. It’s hard when she doesn’t even know or refused to acknowledge those few months.”

“Well, I doubt things will get easier soon, I think Jacob would rather go all lone wolf rather than not keep Bella around.”

“Great,” he exhales, pulling me close to him and resting his chin on my head.

“It’ll be okay.”

He sighs and kisses my head, “Just as long as you’re okay.”  

“I’m okay, promise. I’ll always be okay.”

He presses his lips into mine in a needy kiss.

“I hope so,” he whispers.

--------------------------------------------------------------

“Dad!”

Bella bursts through the door, yelling into the kitchen where Harry is standing next to him. I jump from the sudden intrusion.

“Dad, I saw them!” She yells as she steps next to me.  

“What’s the matter,” Charlie asks.  

“In the woods. They’re not bears!” She gasps out, and my entire body freezes. Oh god, no. Harry’s eyes fly to me, and with a slight shake of his head I steel my reaction.

“What do you mean in the woods? Bella, what the hell are you doing out in the woods?!” Charlie groans.

Bella doesn’t stop, “They’re wolves, I mean, they’re like HUGE wolves.”

“Are you sure about that Bella?” Harry interjects.

“Yeah, I just saw them. They were after… something.” She falters, and it feels like ice has replaced the blood in my veins.

She saw a vampire.

“Wolves? You saw ‘em?” Charlie repeats.

Bella nods and my heart drops.

“Alright, well,” Charlie pauses, looking up at us, “Harry. Feel like going hunting? Get some of your guys together?”

“Sure, yeah, I’ll just…” Harry walks out with his phone in his hand, and I am quick to follow.

I stare wide-eyed at Harry in the hallway, my breath ragged and my eyes are wide.  

“Harry…” I whisper.  

“I know. All of them are out right now, I can’t call them.”

“Fuck,” I run my hands through my hair, pushing it out of my face before it dawns on me. How far can my telepathy go?

“Okay,” I take a deep breath and meet Harry’s eyes, “I can maybe do something. Give them a warning.” He nods, not asking any more questions. He knows he shouldn’t push.

“Work your magic kid, I’m going to call the elders. Make sure whoever is coming knows the deal.”

“Thank you, Harry,” I whisper, my body shaking with panic.  

Harry puts his hand on my shoulder, “They’ll be okay. I promise.”

I nod, not trusting my voice before he starts making calls. I slip out the back door, making my way towards the forest.  

I hope to God this works. It has got to work. I step through the tree line, making sure I can’t be seen from the house.

Closing my eyes, I focus on the hum of magic surrounding me. It takes a moment, but when I open my eyes, I am met with a sea of gold. Magic threads of energy connect everything. Here in the forest, it’s almost overwhelming.

There’s always one that’s a little bigger and brighter than the rest though, the one connecting me to Paul. I reach out to touch it, and with it, I can feel a thrum of love. I focus, trying to feel him.

It works, and I know he’s alerted to what I’m doing as confusion floods through me, but it’s not mine. This is the farthest I’ve pushed our connection, and it’s also the farthest we’ve been apart while I try. Pain stabs through my brain, and the confusion turns into concern. Despite the pain, the connection to him helps me send him a message despite the distance, and by extension, the whole pack.  

There’s a police hunt happening, and they are looking for wolves. Giant wolves. You need to get out of the forest. Please, stay safe boys.

A multitude of thoughts bombards me at once, the force of it making my knees buckle. The pack bond is something I might not ever get used to. Words mixed with memories and emotions all swirling around at once. My head feels like it’s exploding. I can’t tell the voices apart with all the noise in my head.

They are looking for wolves now?

Now there’s going to be tons of humans in the woods, in her way.

Bella. That’s Paul, growling. Even in my thoughts, I can tell it was him.

I get hit with a memory, Bella standing in the woods alone, with a vampire about to kill her. What was she thinking being out there only?

I watch from what I think is Jacob’s perspective, I can feel the longing and the heartbreak. Bella’s curious gaze stares back, a hint of recognition in her eyes.

She’s so close to finding out.

I remember what happened in the kitchen, effectively replaying the scene for them, and they seem to settle at Harry’s reassurance.

I’m going to Emily’s. I say to Paul, even if they all can hear me.

No, stay home.

Not a chance in hell.

I hear Paul’s wolf form growl. In the months we have been together, he still had reservations about me being around him when shifted. It was a boundary I tried not to push too much, but it looks like that it might have to fall soon.

Sorry, love.

I close the connection and the gold surrounding me cuts off like a light. I catch myself falling completely with my hands, cutting them on the rocks on the ground.

It takes a minute before I can move, my eyes won’t stay open, and the light too painful to my head.

When I’m able to stand, I notice the blood steadily dripping down my face from my nose.

That’s new, I think. I try to clean it up as best as I can before texting Charlie, telling him Jessica was having a girl emergency, before getting in my Jeep to drive to the Reservation. On the way, my nose starts to bleed again. I wipe it away, feeling my body get heavier and heavier.

Fuck.

I barely remember what happens after I get to Emily’s house. I know I stumbled through the door and panicked as I told Emily that the boys were in danger. But then, it goes black. My body just… gives out.

--------------------------------------------------------------

It’s the sound of arguing that wakes me up. I can’t tell who is talking or what they are saying, but it hurts. It’s too loud. A small whimper escapes my lips as I try to move, turning away from the noise.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” Paul whispers, “it’s okay.” He shushes the voices in the background, his hand running through my hair. “Can you hear me, Anna?”

I nod weakly, squeezing my eyes to block out any light.

“S’hurts,” I mumble.

Paul lets out a relieved sigh, “I know, Emily is bringing you some medicine.” He kisses my head and slowly helps me up into a seated position. I finally open my eyes, closing them again after feeling the stares of all of the boys, crowding around the bed I’m laying on.

“I’m glad you guys are safe,” I say, rubbing my eyes.

Sam lets out a dry chuckle, “You shouldn’t be worried about us, we are glad you’re okay.”

I shrug, “I don’t even know what happened.”

“You gave me a heart attack, that’s what happened,” Emily declares, entering the room with a glass of water and aspirin in her hands. “You walked in, blood covering your face, and passed out. You hit your head when you fell.” She frowns. “Sue Clearwater came over and looked you over. She doesn’t think you’ll have a concussion, just some pain.”

“Ah,” I nod, “That’s why the lights feel particularly stabby.” Paul takes the water from her and helps me hold it despite the glare I’m giving him. With the medicine down, I lean back into the bed.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, Em,” I say.

“What about us?” Jared speaks up, “You scared us too.”

“I’m sorry, to all of you. But you guys needed the warning. I didn’t want anyone getting hurt.”

“Thank you, Anna,” Sam interjects, “You just rest for now.” He looks around at everyone, “Come on, let’s give her some space.”

With a groan, they all say their goodbyes, as they walk out the door, Jared peaks his head back in.

“Seriously, that was terrifying. Please don’t do that again. We all love you and hate to see you hurt Feel better Anna,” he says before rushing off.

And then there were two…

“You’ve been quiet,” I whisper. Paul had been sitting in a chair next to the bed, not taking his eyes off me. Worry surrounded him. I could tell.

“Yeah,” he sighs, “I’m just… I think I’m too worried to really explain it.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

He smiles sadly at me, then moves to sit on the bed wrapping his arms around me.

“No, I’m not. I know it won’t do much. I was worried, then absolutely terrified. Now, I’m just relieved.”

“I couldn’t let you guys get ambushed.”

He nods and kisses my head, “I know, we can talk about it later. Right now, I think I just need to be with you and hear your heartbeat. Know that you are okay.”

Looking up at him, I can see the fear still in his eyes. This was a new side of Paul. I was expecting a protective Paul or even an angry Paul, but right now he really is just scared. It breaks my heart.

“Yeah baby, that sounds like a plan.” I nod and lean into him. The silence surrounds us like a warm blanket, and Paul’s arms around me tighten, like keeping me close won’t let me slip away.

I try not to let it show, but I hold him just as tightly.

[seventyfiveapples]

Shaken

CHAPTER 5

Bright / Nick Jakoby x OFC

(Chapter 1; Chapter 2; Chapter 3; Chapter 4)

Oh hello: it's you, plot and angst. Yes that's right, but there is important background stuff to lay down. I promise there will be sexy times soon. (SO SOON.) So, I was thinking that if Nick was the nation's first orc police officer and it's present day LA, and "races living separately" is a thing, then it might be a pretty Big Deal for an orc and human to date. So that had an affect on some of the conversations in this chapter, and maybe Ward has a little “journey” as he evolves on this topic. Is this too much exposition? Is this too plot heavy? Would it stop me if it was? haha enjoy.

The sun was bright and warm the next day, and Nick took a moment to tilt his head upwards and take a deep breath before climbing the stairs to the station. Was it always this bright? Did the lantana on the sidewalk always smell so sweet? Everything seemed a little... more today. He smiled to himself, thinking about his date with Lucy - their conversation, the way she looked at him... even the end of the date, when their goodbye kiss was so rudely interrupted by the San Andreas fault.

It was a small earthquake: 3.5 or 3.6 tops, but he could tell Lucy was thoroughly freaked out. He realized that she must be relatively new to the area. 

When she gripped him tightly for stability, he thought his heart might pound right out of his chest: Not only did she seem to like his company, she trusted him. She believed he could keep her safe. He wanted to keep earning that trust, to make her feel safe as much as he could. Every now and then he could tell that there was something… some fear at the back of her mind… that kept her always a little on edge.

When she’d asked to come see him at the station today, her whole demeanor had changed. He saw her fear most clearly then.

Oh shit, he thought suddenly, seeing Daryl at his desk across the room. She’s coming to the station today. Nick still hadn't told him that Lucy was human. Maybe it wouldn't be a big deal... Maybe he should tell him just in case.

His partner waved at him from across the room.

“Hey Casanova, how was the big date?”

Nick couldn’t help himself from grinning ear to ear.

“It was… really good! Really REALLY good.” He smiled to himself for a moment and then just shook his head. “She’s incredible��� funny, smart, kind, driven... AND,” he concluded, “she picked the smoothie café.”

“Well, aren’t you two just two little orc peas in a pod? You know what, I’m happy for you, Nick.”

“Hey Daryl, can I talk to you about something?”

“Sure thing right after you go turn this paperwork in.”

Daryl handed him a small stack of folders. Nick frowned. Daryl hated to turn in paperwork. The new Captain could chat up a brick wall, and might not even notice. He would take up no less than fifteen minutes of Daryl’s time every time he saw him, regaling him with tales of the glory days of his youth while Daryl tried his best to politely excuse himself. If Daryl Ward could barely get a word in edgewise, Nick didn’t know how anyone else managed.

Luckily for Nick, the captain’s anti-orc bigotry expressed itself in something close to the silent treatment. He barely said two words when he saw Officer Jakoby. For once, Nick didn’t entirely mind being treated differently.

He headed down to drop off the papers.

***

One thing Lucy would never get used to in Southern California was the earthquakes. There was something so unsettling about the ground under her feet moving… what kind of place had she moved to, where she couldn’t trust the ground?

Luckily, yesterday’s was a smaller one. Nick had taken it completely in stride. He hadn’t even flinched when the tremor rolled through - or when she grabbed onto him for dear life. Real smooth, Lucy. There’s that confident image you try to project.

She thought of how he looked at her when she'd held him. She didn’t think he’d minded one bit, actually.

In the police station, she walked straight to Officer Jakoby’s desk. It was empty for the moment.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” Asked a tall, black, human officer from behind her.

“Oh! Thank you, I’m just waiting for Officer Jakoby.”

“He’ll be right back if you want to have a seat. If there’s anything I can help with, he’s my partner.”

“You’re Daryl Ward? It’s nice to meet you! I’m Lucy Harris and-“

“You’re Lucy Harris.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“That’s right, Officer Ward, and I was-“

“Lucy Harris. Teacher, smoothie fan... you’re a human?” He had an odd look on his face as he asked her this question. What was going on here?

Lucy said nothing, watching Daryl as he looked at her with an expression she could not interpret. Finally, she spoke.

“Um, yeah. Last time I checked... Is Nic- Officer Jakoby coming back soon?”

“Yeah, why don’t you just take a seat.” He said, suddenly chilly. Lucy pretended to be fascinated with the contents of her purse while she waited.

After a few minutes, Nick came back. He smiled when he saw Lucy but paused as he approached, seeming to sense something off in the room.

“Hey, Nick. Thanks for meeting with me. Is there somewhere we can go to talk privately? This is kind of... sensitive.”

“Sure. We have a few empty offices down the hall.” He turned to Ward and saw a look that was a mix of... Disappointment? Disgust? Something in between?

“Partner, we can talk in a minute, but right now I could use your help.”

***

The three of them sat in an empty office while Lucy removed three items from the purple canvas tote bag she had brought with her.

“I came home a week ago and my roommate had found this propped against our front door,” she started.

The officers looked closely at the items - torn brown wrapping paper with Lucy’s full name printed in block letter, the framed photo, and the note reading “Found you.”

“Do you have any idea who might have left this?” Asked Ward.

“Absolutely."

***

Two and a half years ago, Lucy Harris didn’t exist.

Jennie Perkins, however, was living a quiet life in Tacoma, Washington. She worked as a teacher at a highly regarded private school and lived with her boyfriend of a year and a half, Dave West.

One day in the early spring, an FBI agent approached her, out of the blue. She told Jennie that her boyfriend was not who he claimed to be, but a murderer and drug dealer involved with organized crime. She brought boxes of photos and documents: not enough for a legal conviction but more than enough to convince Jennie, who was undone by the news. She was shocked and unmoored. Everything she knew about the person she thought she loved had been a lie.

The agent convinced her to hide cameras and listening devices in strategic locations around the house. She advised Jennie to “act normal” until they could build an airtight legal case.

Easier said than done. Overnight she’d gone from a relatively carefree life to being essentially a spy, knowing that her partner was living a double life and trying to make sure he’d be arrested. Acting normally without tipping off a paranoid criminal required tremendous effort.

After a couple of months, something violent happened at their house while Jennie was at work. She never found out what it was. In fact, she never saw the inside of that house again. The takeaways from the incident were 1) that one of the cameras was knocked loose in front of Dave and his “colleagues,” and 2) that Dave probably knew Jennie had hidden it, and was cooperating with the feds.

The agent and Jennie agreed that they would fake Jennie’s death (an elaborately staged car accident) and she would move out of state under an assumed name until the trial was over. The FBI slotted enough resources to help her get set up, and Lucy Harris was “born.”

About a month ago, Lucy received notice that the trial was about to start. The FBI agent had contacted Lucy/Jennie to start making arrangements for her to come and testify.

That phone call was the last time anyone had heard from the agent.

A week later, they found her body in a field by the highway.

Her apartment had been torn up as if someone was looking for something… Lucy had a pretty good idea of what. Not quite three weeks after that when the package had shown up on Lucy’s door.

“So," Lucy concluded. "Billie and I moved into a new place. Luckily, her brothers had an empty rent house right next door. I was just starting to feel okay again, but the afternoon someone slashed two of my tires. They left this.” She reached into her bag to pull out the knife and note. She couldn’t look Nick in the eye when he picked up the note full of slurs and read it.

“Apparently, he's close by, and he knows where I am. And I don’t know what to do. So I wanted to just report this, just in case there's some way to find him or stop him.”

There was a moment’s pause, as the officers digested what she had told them. Daryl spoke first.

"Damn," he said. “That's... a lot. Look I know this is a long shot, but I don't suppose you have any evidence about this? Before we commit to any security detail, we'll need some hard proof.

Lucy looked up, surprised. She let out a sudden sharp laugh.

“Oh no, I have tons of evidence! Boxes and boxes. I made copies of everything I gave to the agent. It’s all in a safety deposit box. I’m pretty sure that’s the only reason I’m still alive. I haven’t visited it in months, but it’s all there.”

“We’ll need to see it.”

“Well then you’ll need to figure out how to get me there unrecognized, because I am pretty sure he’s following me.”

Nick swallowed hard. Had he followed them on their date? Lucy looked at him, a guilty expression washing over her face.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Nick. I should have. I just… it seems like I keep putting more and more people at risk. I had a great time with you, but I don’t blame you if…” she shook her head. She didn’t have to say it. She knew he’d want to call it off. Hot tears sprang to her eyes, as the reality of the whole situation settled on her. It was the first time she’d talked about this in two years to anyone except Billie.

“Lucy, you haven’t done anything wrong. Daryl, could you give us a minute?” After his partner left, Nick moved close enough to lay a strong hand on her forearm and look straight in her eyes. “Lucy, I really like you. I’m not going anywhere. It’s going to take more than that to get rid of me.”

“More than a murdering psychopath?” she said with a skeptical laugh.

He raised his eyebrows. “Murdering psychopaths? I eat those for breakfast. They go great with that kale smoothie.” He didn’t often make jokes, but when he did, they seemed to have been borrowed from cop movies. Lucy broke into a loud laugh, part nerves and part surprise, and hugged him. 

“Now, tell us everything that might help us track down this asshole.”

***

Later, on patrol, Nick broke several minutes of silence with a pointed question. “Something on your mind, partner?”

“I guess not.”

“You ‘guess’ not? The fuck does that mean?”

“If you don’t want to tell me about your business, then I guess it’s not my place to say shit about shit.”

“Meaning?” Nick asked gruffly.

“Why didn’t you mention she was human?”

“Does it matter?”

“You know what all those assholes at the station are gonna-“

“Does it matter to YOU, Daryl?”

Daryl looked out of the window, not answering. After a few seconds, he spoke.

“You should have told me.”

“Ward,” Jakoby started, keeping as even a tone as he could, “are you upset because I didn’t tell you, or are you upset because you don’t think orcs and humans should date?”

Ward paused again, and tried to choose his words carefully. “Each of the nine races stay separate, you know that. That’s why there’s peace.”

Nick snorted, a humorless laugh. It was two steps forward, two steps back with his partner.

“Peace?! Is that what you see out here?” Driving through an Orcish district, they saw gang-tagged graffiti on every wall, smashed windows covered with plywood boards, crime scene tape around one corner, and a group of teen orcs glaring at them. In the distance they could see a billboard advertising jewelry. It read: “exclusively available in the Elf District.”

“I’ll tell you what I see,” Nick concluded, “a powder keg. I don’t think keeping people separate is really helping anything.”

He continued: “Look, Lucy and I didn’t plan this, and we’ve only had one date, but I really like her. How the fuck does that hurt anyone?”

After another pause, Ward finally spoke. “What about her? I mean, you’re used to all the bullshit people say. Do you really want to put her through that?”

Daryl had struck a chord. Nick hated to think of Lucy - of anyone - being insulted or attacked because of him.

“She’s not naive, Ward,” Nick responded in a softer tone. “It’s her choice to make, and mine. No one else’s.”

“I just… it’s not going to be easy for you.”

“Maybe not. Since when do I take the easy road?” Nick asked, smiling a little. “I’m used to people - humans, orcs, whoever - saying shit to me. They’re going to do that anyway.” He stopped for a minute. “I know they say shit about me to you, too.”

It wasn’t an accusation, but Daryl felt a pang of guilt. Had he heard what the other officers said about him on a daily basis in the locker room? Had Daryl even spoken up? He couldn’t remember.

“I’m not asking you to confront them, or fight my battles. I’m just asking - in this situation, with Lucy - if people get ugly, it would mean a lot to me to know I had your support… if I do have it.”

Nick looked at him with questioning eyes and Daryl sighed. He’d never known any orc-human couples and it just seemed odd to him, but Nick had a point: who did it hurt? Nick’s request was so sincere it cut through anything Daryl might have said in protest.

Besides that, Daryl thought of Lucy's story. How were they ever going to find this guy? A little orc/human racial tension might be the least of their worries.

More than anything he kept thinking, what if the tables were reversed? What would Nick say if Daryl asked for his support, for anything?

He would offer it without hesitation, of course.

“Yeah,” Daryl replied at last. “You got it, Nick.”

***

Across town, Dave West paced in his makeshift room: an abandoned shipping container at the very far end of the docks. At his feet lay a spectrum of weapons, but he would have to add to these: most of them wouldn’t do too much on the orcs that were protecting Jennie now. He logged onto his computer to keep tabs on her through the GPS tracker he’d placed on her car.

The police station, huh? He wondered if it was business or pleasure. He flipped through the photos he’d taken of Jennie and the orc police officer on their date. He’d probably have to move a little more quickly than he wanted to.

There was still no sign of her visiting any storage units or banks with safety deposit boxes. He had to wait, for now, damn it. As long as that evidence was out there, he was in danger of not only criminal conviction, but he was in danger from all of the other people who were mentioned or implicated in whatever she had gathered.

He’d be better off in prison than out and “free” with them as his enemies.

No, for now, he just had to wait for her to slip up. Once he destroyed the evidence, he could kill her and everyone who tried to help her, and get back to San Francisco.

Or, he thought, flipping through the photos again, he could help things along and get... creative.

@beastlybfs @bonnietakesnosh-t @fantasticauthorofzonk

[arthurbroussrd]

i was tagged by @peggy-caarter (omg hi and thank you!!)

rules: answer the questions in a new post and tag 20 blogs ( or however many you please ) you would like to get to know better

nickname: i don’t really have one bc my name is pretty short but when i do it’s often clecle

starsign: libra

time right now: 10:33 pm

last thing googled: the bold type s1e6 vostfr (lmaoooo)

favorite music artists: RUELLE IS MY QUEEN but i really really reeeaaally love imagine dragons. also ed sheeran and twenty one pilots are cool

song stuck in your head: wide eyed - billy lockett (the malec feels omg)

last movie watched: omg idk?? i watched wonder woman but that was a while ago, idk

last TV show watched: orange is the new black

what are you wearing right now: purple long sleeve shirt, black jean and slippers!

when did you create your blog: 4 months ago, in april!

what kind of stuff do you post: pretty much everything as long as it’s about tv shows!!

do you get asks regularly: nO 

why did you choose your URL: because the 100 is one of my favorite series and the x is bc there already was an url with the o !

gender: female

hogwarts house: ravenclaw

pokemon team: idk??

favorite color: green

average hours of sleep: 6

lucky number: 28 or 4

favorite character(s): bELLAMY BLAKE OBVIOUSLY but i really love mazikeen smith, sun bak, alec lightwood, raven reyes, jon snow, poussey washington, michael cordero jr.... okay sTOP i have so many

favorite book(s): all the percy jackson i think

dream job: i don’t know how to say that in english?? i think it’s called speech therapist

following: 292 rn!! (omg im so close to 300)

and i’m tagging @katledison @katedison-el-amin @magnusbaene and @claryharry (and @shakespeareinflcwers even if i know you already but you’ve tagged me so many times recently so <3) only if you guys want to ofc!

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

An Appetite for More

13/12: Presents and Praise Kink - Billy Washington Word Count: 1.6k~ | Warnings: oral (f receiving), heavy petting, praise kink

12 Days of Smuff Masterlist

A/N: it's all about the sopping wet subby men in mid December apparently

She glances over at Billy in the passenger seat of her battered VW Polo. He looks fucking miserable, eyes heavy with fatigue, his head rested in the palm of his hand with his elbow propped against the window. 

The family gathering/present swap/intervention or whatever the fuck it was, didn't end the best.

It was the first Christmas since Billy's incident in the Summer, the one that nearly cost him his life. She still remembers the way her heart leapt into her throat when she found out what may or may not happen to him. 

When she thought she might lose him.

It was a feeling she wouldn't wish on anybody.

She even remembers the way she squeezed the life out of him in the police station. He smelled of sweat and fear, and she felt his desperation in the way he clung to her, as if he couldn't imagine ever entertaining the thought of letting her go.

And of course, the family gathering started fine, but ended with some choice words about what had happened. It got so heated that Lana nearly leapt over the table at a distant uncle, her accent so thick with anger that even she could barely understand her. In other circumstances she might have laughed. But one glance at Billy beside her, his knee bouncing erratically, jaw tense, half a sunday dinner still sat lukewarm in front of him, all she could do was hold his hand under the table.

When it had gone on too long though, even she couldn't hold back. If she had seen Billy's face, there was the slight glimmer of love and pride, that someone he loved would stand up for him.

He was doing so well, she thought, he didn't need this. Especially so close to Christmas. She almost thought about ditching her plan altogether, but thought that there was a slither of a chance he might enjoy it still.

She pats his knee lovingly as she drives, her eyes still on the road, but her gesture is enough to show that she was thinking of him.

Billy sighs, and slides his hand over hers, “sorry.”

“Don't be sorry,” she says easily, “it was shitty of them to bring it up.”

He glances over, the street lights passing by illuminating his blue, sad eyes. “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

“Always,” she smiles, squeezing his hand. "I should give your sister a medal as well, didn't know she could move so fast."

It was sad, exhausted even, the smile he gave back. But it was something. And it made her heart flutter all the same.

She sighed in relief as the central heating of Billy's flat hit her skin, pulling her coat off her shoulders and toeing her shoes off at the front door as Billy made his way to the kitchen. The flat smelled faintly of those knockoff Yankee Candles that Billy always bought from B&M. 'Fresh Cotton', my arse, she thinks as the acrid scent hits her nose.

“Brew?” He asks, filling up the kettle with anticipation that she'd say yes anyway.

A grin rose to her lips, leaning against the doorway, “um, you still have one present left?”

He half turns, his face set in confusion, “do I?”

She nodded, her grin widening as she folded her arms across her chest, “Course you do.”

Billy places the kettle on its base, his curiosity piqued as he turns to lean casually against the counter. “Alright then, where is it?” He asks.

She presses her lips together to suppress the desire to outright smile, her hands coming to the buttons at the front of her dress, unfurling the fabric, revealing inch after inch of tantalising skin. Billy's eyes follow, his jaw on the floor at the layer of red lace that adorned her curves. He swallowed hard, momentarily speechless as her dress rippled to the floor, leaving her stood in a crimson ensemble that rendered him stupid.

He said nothing, but simply made his way to her, making no attempt to touch her yet. And sank slowly to his knees, large hands bracing the spot above her waist beside her breasts, pressing his face to her bare stomach and exhaling.

“Good boy,” she praises softly, running her fingers through his hair as he raises his eyes to her, a flicker of hunger in them. She didn’t need him to speak. His body said it all, how much he craved her, how willing he was to please.

She let her fingertips trail down his face, her smile softening. “You’ve been waiting for this, haven’t you?”

He gives the slightest nod, his hands itching to touch her more. “Please, baby, don't…” he breathes, as if it physically pains him to be teased.

Her smile deepened, equal parts tender and wicked. “But you look so good like this,” she murmured, her fingers tracing the sharp lines of his jaw. “On your knees, desperate for me. You’re perfect.”

Billy’s breath hitched at her words, the praise sinking into him like fire. She took his hand, guiding it to her thigh, letting him feel the heat of her skin through the delicate lace. His lips parted, and without waiting for more, he leaned in, pressing reverent kisses against her stomach, each one slow and deliberate.

“Good boy,” she whispered, threading her fingers through his hair as he worked his way down, his lips trailing lower, his breath hot against her skin.

When he reached her waistband, he glanced up, waiting for her nod before carefully pushing the lace aside. She gasped softly as his tongue flicked out, the warmth of his mouth teasing her entrance, trailing up to her clit. Billy gripped her thighs, pressing her back against the cool counter as he buried himself between her legs.

“That’s it,” she praised, her voice breathy and warm. “Just like that, baby. You’re so good to me.”

His eyes met hers briefly before he doubled down, his tongue moving with purpose down to her entrance again, fucking her with his tongue as if he himself drew pleasure from it. Her fingers tightened in his hair, pulling him closer as her breathing grew more erratic, thighs shaking as his fingers made bruises in flesh.

“God, Billy,” she moaned, her head tilting back as the tension coiled tighter in her core. “You’re perfect. My perfect– ah.”

The praise strained his jeans, combined with the taste of her, having her all to himself, his knees burning against the floor. He thought, this was the best fucking meal he'd ever had in this kitchen. She was sweet, warm and needy, all he ever wanted.

He groaned against her, the vibration sending a white hot wave up her spine, the pleasure tightening in her gut. Her head threw back against the cupboards, her grip on his hair so hard she was sure she might have been pulling too much.

His hands slid up to her waist, pulling her down to his mouth in rhythmic movements. His nose brushed against her clit, and that was what sent her finally spiralling.

Her thighs trembled around him, her nails digging into the countertop for support as her climax crashed over her. Each wave of pleasure wracked her body, pulling a guttural moan from her lips. Fuck the neighbours, she thought, completely lost in the moment. Nothing else mattered but him and the way he worshipped her with his mouth.

Billy didn’t relent, his tongue working her through every last tremor. Even when she was fully spent, humming in the afterglow, he kept this slow, lazy pace of forcing her hips to roll over his face.

“Billy,” she whimpered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Too much…”

Only then did he ease off, placing one last reverent kiss against her sensitive flesh before looking up, his lips glistening, his eyes heavy with satisfaction. He pressed his forehead against her stomach, his breath hot against her skin as he waited for her to come back down.

“You’re amazing,” she murmured, her voice shaky but full of warmth. She cupped his face, gently lifting it so their eyes met. “So good for me.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips. She pulled him to his feet, her lips finding his in a slow, intense kiss, tasting herself on him, stoking a flame inside her. Their lips moved in sync as she guided him toward the bedroom. Her legs were still shaky, but she didn’t care. She wanted him, all of him, and nothing was going to stop her.

When they reached the bed, she pushed him back onto the mattress, climbing over him with predatory intent. His hands immediately found her hips, but she pinned them down against the sheets, her eyes gleaming with playful dominance.

“Not yet,” she whispered, leaning down to nip at his jawline. “You’ve been so good for me tonight. Let me take care of you now.”

Billy groaned, his hands flexing under her grip, but he didn’t resist. He trusted her completely, and that trust only fueled her desire. She kissed her way down his chest, her hands following the trail of her lips, savoring every inch of him.

When she finally reached his waistband, she looked up, her gaze locked onto his. “Tell me what you want, baby,” she murmured, her fingers teasing at the fabric, stroking his erection through his jeans.

“You,” he managed, his voice a low growl. “Just you.”

General Taglist:

@1lluminaticonfirmed @aemondsfavouritebastard @all-for-aemond @bellstwd @blackswxnn

@blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @cl-0-vr @eddieslut69

@emmaisafictionwhore @eponaartemisa @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @justbelljust

@minholy223 @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @nixiefics

@primonizzutto @qyburnsghost @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @sheshellsseashells

[assortedseaglass]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝔹𝕒𝕔𝕜 𝕋𝕠 𝕄𝕖 - 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

Billy Washington x OFC

They had always been opposites, and sometimes Ida thought that the only thing they had in common was their childhood. Pulled in different directions, a series of events throughout one summer heatwave will change everything.

Warning: This series contains strong language, sex and depictions of racism and violence. Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Epilogue

[assortedseaglass]

Come Back To Me - Epilogue

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ Language and Smut.

Author’s Note: How are we feeling after the photoshoot, pals? Are we okay? Have we gone insane? Have we gone completely feral? It came just at the right time for the epilogue…

This is the last instalment of Come Back To Me. Thank you all so much for your support with this story - as I have said before, sharing my writing has been very nerve wracking but you have all made it so worth it! Your kind words have meant the world, and I feel much more at ease to share more in the future.

Billy and Ida occupy such a lovely little corner of my mind, and I must admit I’m sad that this fic is over. I’m glad that my version of Billy has been received so well, and that Ida has been so accepted by you all! Maybe in the future, I’ll write more about the pair of them. Send any suggestions, requests or ideas my way! Here goes…

Word Count: 5.6K

Billy stepped off the train and was met by the gentle smell of foxglove, campion and cow parsley. May, ten months after Cranstead Fields. Spring in Woodwell was in full bloom; bunting was strung from the village pub, swifts split the air with their wings, and scent of suncream was brought in with the season’s first tourists.

Billy breathed deeply the fresh air, shouldered his bag and followed the few other passengers that had left the train to the station steps. Flicking his glasses off his head and onto the sharp bridge of his nose, he rounded the corner into the warmth of the sunlight and began the short walk home. A sharp whistle rang through the evening air. Billy was grinning before he even turned around.

“Where you heading?” Her hair was lit by the setting sun. Billy watched insects flutter in the hazy light around her, and occasionally a robin or blackbird darted out to feast on them. Billy knew they were catching dinner before settling in for the night, but it looked as though she had summoned them herself. His wild thing. As she leant against the door of her car, a seductive smirk played on her lips, whether she knew it or not.

“Got a girl waiting at home,” he replied, walking slowly towards her.

“Lucky thing,” the woman snaked her arms around Billy’s neck and leant against the car, bringing him with her. Billy laughed as he kissed her. He pulled away and she pulled him back. He laughed once more, kissing her between chuckles.

“You’re insatiable.”

“If you only knew,” she smiled against his lips. “How was it?”

“I fucking hate the city.” Billy stood back to admire her. “You look nice.” She blushed and flattened her skirt a little. He moved towards the passenger side but was stopped by her voice.

“You’re up, big boy.” She threw him the car keys and laughed brightly, touching his arm as she passed him by. “You feeling up to it?” Billy kissed her cheek and nodded. He opened the door to the driver’s side, glancing around at the spring scene. Taking a deep breath, he sat down. The leather of the steering wheel creaked as he gripped it. He checked the mirrors, checked his seatbelt, and leant over to check the glovebox. A hand snapped out to grip his wrist.

“You’re ok,” she said soothingly, rubbing the skin with her thumb. Billy swallowed, nodded almost imperceptibly, and started the engine.

*

After the events at Cranstead Fields, Billy wouldn’t go near a car. Couldn’t. The smell of leather or petrol made him gag. A single thought about driving saw him dissolve into a sweating, sobbing frenzy. For a while, he got the bus, train or even walked between his parents’ house, Ida’s flat and his weekly therapy sessions at the hospital.

Through it all, he and Ida talked about leaving the city. Sofia and Faisal had launched into their wedding plans, and Ida offered to move out so that they may begin married life alone. They had protested, but really, Ida was keen to start her own life. She had never felt quite at home in London. She craved the wild intensity of the country. Of the coast. To be bustled about by the wind and rain rather than the city dwellers.

Billy, too, found London life stifling. There were too many painful memories lurking around every corner now. He remembered once telling Ida that she had outgrown him, outgrown their life on the outskirts of London. But now, he felt he had joined her. Every day he felt the tips of his fingers yearning to reach out and grab something. What that was he wasn’t sure, until Ida burst into the flat one day beaming from ear to ear. A heritage charity based near Dungeness had heard about her work from one of her PhD tutors. Impressed by her dedication to teaching, they offered her a position and cottage in nearby Woodwell. Not a month before Ida earned her PhD and they moved to the cottage, Has appeared on the Washington’s doorstep. Was Billy around? He had recently left the service citing “bad knees and enough adrenaline to take him to the next millennium” and had started a charity using sport to help rehabilitate military veterans. And so, Billy found himself studying sports therapy with funding from Has’ charity while helping veterans find community in the form of weekly football matches.  

The winter months passed them by in a blur of packing, teaching and exploring. Billy hadn’t been able to face the two-hour drive from London to the village, and so when Sofia and Faisal finished helping them load the moving van, he boarded the train and met them at little Woodwell station. He had felt ashamed, childish and heartily embarrassed. Recognising the first signs of Billy drifting too far into his own mind, his three closest friends boosted his ego by asking him to carry the heaviest boxes.

Slowly, with the help of Ida, Billy was gradually reintroduced to driving. When they first moved to the village, Ida drove them to nearby beauty spots so that they might explore, fuelled by picnics or flasks of soup. Occasionally, Billy drove. Only short distances, dropping Ida at the train station or grocery shop. His first big journey was to Dungeness, thirty minutes away. They stopped three times to calm Billy’s nerves and Ida had driven back, but boy did she reward him afterwards. When spring first arrived, Ida took him to a drive-in cinema to see Casablanca. Only last weekend, they’d been to watch dirt track racing with Lana and Thom. Ida was determined to rewrite his memories of driving with happy ones. Today was no exception.

*

“Mum and dad send their love,” Billy said, his arm resting against the open car window. He looked at Ida briefly and winked. Not long after Cranstead, Ida visited the Washingtons and apologised for her behaviour the day of Billy’s birthday. She still stood by what she said. Perhaps, just not the way she said it. Water under the bridge. That’s what Jeff had said. Ever since he nearly lost Billy, he was a changed man. Quieter, gentler.

“Did you see Gran?”

“I did, actually. She was heading out with her fancy man!”

“Maybe we’ll have another wedding to go to!” Ida laughed, but the idea of her grandmother finding happiness after all she had been through filled her heart with starlight. “Turn left here.” Billy did as he was told, mind flooding with images of Ida in a white dress. They turned onto a narrow country lane lined with high hedges.

“Where are you taking me, woman?”

“It’s a surprise! Left again at the end of the lane.” Ida reached behind her to grab her bag, and Billy swallowed hard when the slit of skirt parted. She had gained some happiness weight since their move to the cottage, and fuck he loved it on her. The flesh of her thighs looked so soft and beautifully warm. She pulled down the passenger mirror, applied some lip balm and teasingly puckered her lips at him.

Billy barked a laugh. “You’re an idiot.”

Ida wound down the window and Billy saw, from the corner of his eye, her hair whip about her face in the breeze. He placed a hand on her thigh, and Ida felt the first frisson of excitement fizzle there. “See that track, up the hill?” She rasped, fighting to keep her emotions in check. “Just up there.” Billy removed his hand to change gear. Ida could still feel the heat of where it had rested on her. The car hobbled over the track and broke through a clearing of trees. Woodwell came into view at the bottom of the valley. From their vantage point on the hill, the ocean could be seen on the horizon, hazy in the evening light. The swifts were still screeching overhead, and Billy watched as a few deer pranced in a field below.

“Ida-”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it!? I told that old lady in the pub, you know, the one that always sits by the fire? Never takes off that fur coat? Well, I told her that we were new to the area and exploring, and she told me about this place. Apparently, it’s the best place to see the stars and no one comes up here!” Before Billy could open his mouth to reply, Ida dashed out of the car and round to the boot. She opened it up and came back with blankets, pillows and a flask of hot chocolate. “It’s not quite summer yet, hey?”

Billy gazed at her. His girlfriend. His best friend. His Ida. “I love you.”

Ida stopped pouring the hot chocolate and looked up at him. “Where did that come from?”

“I’m just making up for lost time.” And it was true. Billy was making up for all the lost I love yous he should have given Ida over the years.

“I love you too.” Her breath caught. His smile barely left his beautiful face these days. “I didn’t think it was possible to love you as much as I do, but it just keeps growing.”

“Don’t be soft,” he laughed, though his eyes watered and his hand moved to cradle her face and bring her into a tender kiss.

For an hour or so they sat with their seats reclined, watching the sun descend beyond the sealine and stars rise to freckle the navy sky. They spoke about plans for the cottage. Ida wanted to paint the door red; she had always dreamed of a house with a red door. Billy had already made work on the garden, planting the sweet pea seeds Gwen had given them and the nasturtiums that hung in baskets by the door. Billy had plans to build Ida a little reading nook at the far end of the garden, under the willow tree. The reason was selfish. Ida loved to read, but he loved watching her read more. The way her mouth twitched into a small smile, or tears glazed her eyes. The unusual positions she sat in, legs propped up against the table while her hair dangled over the back of a chair. No matter how closely Billy would come to know Ida, she forgot the world and herself when she was reading.

Every now and again, Billy turned on the radio to see what music was playing. When Say You Love Me played he sang along, and Ida had to fight every urge to kiss him senseless. The night was dark now, the only light coming from the moon, stars and dim car dashboard. Ida poured the last of the hot chocolate into their flasks and handed one to Billy. She watched his lips curve around the cup.

“I’m so proud of you, Billy.”

He smiled. “What for?”

“For so many things. But today, the driving.”

“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he finished the last of his drink, placed it in the footwell and reclined once more in his seat, cushioned by pillows and blankets. Ida did the same, lying on her side to look at him. “’Rewriting the memory’ for me.” He finished, quoting her.

Ida’s voice was low when she replied, not once looking away from his face. “I’m not finished with you yet.”

Goosebumps of anticipation spread over Billy’s skin, and suddenly he felt shy. “It’s getting cold,” he whispered, though he knew full well his goosebumps weren’t caused by the chill air.

“I’ll warm you up.”

Billy swallowed.

In the reclined passenger seat, Ida leant on her elbow. Her face was still turned towards Billy, and she was thankful that the red light of the car was dim; she didn’t want him to see the nerves so brazenly decorating her cheeks. What he had said was right, Ida was insatiable. She had always loved sex, even more so now that she had Billy, and Billy’s body. But part of Ida was terrified by that side of her. She had always struggled to reckon people’s view of her as serious and studious with the free and lusty person she knew she could be. It was something she so often read in her books, sadly; women have minds or bodies, not both. She pushed the thought away. She had been waiting for this all day, had planned it for longer, and nerves were not going to ruin it. Ida pulled one of the pillows between the reclined seats so that she wouldn’t fall into the well between the two. She really had planned this. Ever so slowly, she leant towards Billy. He tried to keep composed but his eyes widened, just a little, and a bolt of confidence shot through Ida.

“You’ve been so good,” she whispered in his ear. Ida ran her nose down his neck, saw his pulse quicken and bit the taut skin of his collarbone before running her tongue back up his to his ear. “So, so good.”

“Fuck,” Billy’s breath staggered. Ida leant her arm against the head rest of Billy’s seat and lowered herself so that her breasts pressed against his chest, bringing her lips to his in an open, languid kiss. Billy hummed when her hot tongue skirted over his lower lip. She pulled back. Through heavily lidded eyes, he watched her gaze as it flickered hungrily to his lips. She ran her tongue over them once again but gave him nothing more. As Billy raised his head to chase her kisses, he caught sight of her hands untying the knot that held her skirt together. Ida had worn it intentionally; this was the same outfit she wore that first night when Billy turned up at the flat, rain-soaked and hungry for her. The thin fabric fell away, leaving Ida in her simple top and a pair of lace knickers that barely covered the ample flesh of her bottom. Her body, exposed to the cold, tensed and Billy found his voice.

“I’ve not seen these before,” Ida swung her leg over his hip as he said this, and his hands flew to her waist. She hovered over him, arms either side of his head.

“Well, you’ve been such a good boy,” she smirked. “You deserve a reward.”

Billy’s hips involuntarily bucked, desperate to meet hers. Ida laughed and, agonisingly slowly, pressed her clothed core to Billy’s hips. He moaned as she ground against him. She could feel just how painfully hard he had become through the rough fabric of his jeans.

“Already hard and I’ve barely touched you.” Billy whimpered as she dragged her core over his bulge. The grip he had on her tightened as he helped to rake her hips across his. Ida moaned at the friction the rough fabric caused on her centre. Continuing to roll her hips against Billy, she took the hem of her top and pulled it over her head. She felt a rush of power as Billy’s pupils blew wide with lust. He reached out a hand to cup one of her full breasts, the bare flesh warm under his hand, its pink nipple hardening instantly as his fingers ghosted over it. Ida rolled her hips once more, the action pushing her breasts further into his touch. Billy reached to grab the other, and he marvelled at how perfectly they filled his hands. Ida moaned, tipping her head back and rubbing her clothed pussy needily against him.

“Fuck, Ida.” His large hands trailed down her sides and came to rest on her thighs. He gripped her hard, holding her in place against him. Billy watched as she lifted her arms to tie back her hair. He didn’t think he could get any harder but this angle granted him the perfect view of the curve of her breasts, and he watched as they bounced a little with the movement of her tying her hair.

“Your tits are incredible,” he whispered, smirking. Ida giggled and rolled her hips to silence him. Billy’s head fell back against the head rest and he scrunched his eyes shut. His arousal was beginning to hurt. “Ida. Please.” Without warning, her weight disappeared from his hips. I didn’t want her to stop! Billy’s eyes flew open to be met with Ida’s face a hair’s breadth from his.

“Patience, my love.” She kissed him again, this time with hunger. She wound her hands into his hair and tugged. She rubbed her body across Billy’s. She moaned wantonly into his mouth, and Billy was seeing stars. When Ida broke away to bite at his neck and rub her hand across the swollen bulge of his trousers, he almost sobbed.

“No, no don’t go!” He was desperate now, pleading as he watched her return to her seat, kneeling to face him. Ida slid a hand into her own underwear, lips parting as she used her fingers to release some of her arousal. Billy watched, frozen, as Ida pleasured herself opposite him. He stared with burning intensity as one hand worked at her core, the other massaging one of her pink nipples. Each whimper and moan from Ida’s lips sent Billy further into madness and his breath became ragged. All those lonely years of moaning her name shamefully as he pleasured himself, of keeping his sinful thoughts at bay when she didn’t know he was watching her closely. To think now, that she had always wanted him as much, and that he could induce this kind of reaction in her only made him love her more. Want her more.  

“Take them off,” Ida commanded breathily, indicating to his trousers. Billy fumbled with the button and zip of his jeans. Hooking his thumbs in the waistband, he shoved them roughly to his feet along with his boxers. His cock was freed and Ida felt her core clench. It was rock hard, the tip swollen and glistening with precum. She wanted nothing more than to have him inside her, but that wasn’t part of the plan. Yet. Billy’s breath hitched, his mind dizzy. Bending forward, Ida brought her face to his length and ran her tongue its shaft.  

“Oh fuck,” Billy’s head flew against his seat, then snapped backto watch Ida work him. She ran her tongue along him a few more times, savouring the scent of his arousal as she did so. Spit coated her lips and, lit by the red light of the car, her eyes bore a wild glint as they stared into his. She looked like she was going to devour him. It occurred to Billy that she probably would, and his stomach twisted with excitement. No sooner had Billy come to this realisation were Ida’s lips on him and he gripped the seat belt with white-knuckle focus. The sensation of her hot mouth around his cock caused his hips to buck and she hummed with pride, the vibrations sending pleasure straight to Billy’s balls. He was transfixed as Ida bobbed her head, hollowed out her cheeks and took him into her mouth as deeply as she could.

“I swear to God every man dreams of this.”

Ida released him from her mouth and smiled. Pure and proud and so eager to please. She wrapped a small hand around him and pumped his length a few times, watching as precum dripped from his tip. She brought her tongue to lick it away from his slit and enveloped him with her swollen lips once again. “You taste so good,” she said when she next broke for air, before going back for more. Every now and then, she would stop to sing more praise between ministrations. “You’re so big,” “Your cock’s so pretty,” “I can’t wait to have you inside me”. That last almost had Billy spilling into her mouth. His chest heaved with staggered breaths, the act doing nothing to ease his light-headedness. A few more times Ida swirled her tongue along the tip of his shaft, her hand working at its base. When she finally released him with a sloppy pop, a trail of saliva connected his cock to her mouth and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Billy brought his hands to rub his face, as though he were dreaming.

Ida’s plan was to drag his pleasure out for as long as possible, but my God did he make it hard for her. Watching him, a panting, quivering mess before her, did nothing to quell the throbbing between her legs. Sitting back in her chair she hastily removed her underwear and straddled Billy’s hips. Ida grabbed him by the shirt and yanked so that he was forced to sit up.

“Take this off.” Billy obeyed. He discarded his shirt and brought his hands to run along Ida’s sides. Ida, in turn, ran her hands along his chest. The toned muscle, each little freckle, the sprinkling of hair and the chain that hung around his neck. Her core throbbed again. “Are you ready for your reward?” Billy nodded eagerly. Excitement curled in both of their cores. Hands moving to grip her behind, he helped guide her as she lowered herself onto him. It took everything for Billy not to thrust up into her. For a moment, the pair paused; Ida’s mouth open, Billy’s own lips parted as he watched himself disappear within her. The tight heat of her pussy overwhelmed him momentarily, and he bit his lip to contain the whimper that threatened to escape him. Instead, he focused on Ida. Her brows were tight with concentration, lips parted as she sank further onto his cock. When he was fully inside her, she shuddered. “Billy,” she breathed. “You feel amazing.” They kissed each other desperately. Billy was silent for a while, utterly intoxicated by Ida. No woman had ever loved him this way. He understood how he could let people down with his actions, this last year had shown him that, but that was his doing and under his control. And yet, whenever he had opened his heart to someone before, shown them the most vulnerable parts of him, as he was in this moment with Ida, they were unsatisfied and unsatiated. Near the end of their relationship, after yet another loveless encounter with Becky, he snapped.

“Why bother when you detest being near me? Why not go and find someone else to fuck?” He spat bitterly at her.

“Shut up, Billy.”

“Don’t talk to me like that!”

“It’s not my fault you’re a dreadful fuck. You’re mind is always elsewhere. With her.”

“No it’s not-”

“Maybe we’d both enjoy it more if you imagined I was Ida.” She said nastily. In that moment, Billy wanted to hurt her. How dare she sully Ida’s name like that. Drag her into their mess.

“Get out.”

Ida ran her hands through Billy’s blond hair. “Hey, are you ok?”

“S’good,” Billy swallowed. “It’s good. Please don’t stop.” Ida raised her hips before bringing them down on him. Billy groaned as she sank on to him over and over, any thoughts of Becky and his worthlessness fading. The slow pace that Ida tried to set didn’t last long. Every flex of Billy’s muscles as he held on to her, every grunt that rumbled through his chest drove Ida into a frenzy and she wildly slammed her hips onto him. Heat from their bodies steamed up the cool windows of the car, and sweat was forming on Billy’s forehead. He frowned, jaw clenched as he focused on Ida’s body. Her plump flesh glistened with sweat, a few beads running between the valley of her breasts which bounced mesmerically as she fucked him. Her hair, still tied up, was coming down around her face and plastered to her cheeks. From this position, Billy could just about see himself disappearing into her with every thrust, her slick arousal coating their thighs.

“What’s that grin for?” Ida panted as she looked down at him. An idea had popped into Billy’s head. In one fluid movement, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled himself to a sitting position. Ida made the most of this new closeness and kissed the underside of his sharp jaw. Billy smiled and kissed the side of her head, before reaching behind her.

“What are you doing?” she asked again.

“Patience, my love.” He echoed. Still holding her steady, Billy reached his hand for the rear-view mirror, angling it down. “Perfect,” he whispered to himself before laying back in his seat. “Keep going,” he nodded to her. Ida looked over her shoulder, and at the mirror, before turning back to him.

“You dirty boy,” she smirked. He huffed a laugh back.

“Move,” he whispered.

“Only if you say please,” Ida whispered back, rocking her hips just a little.

“Please.” Ida gripped onto Billy’s shoulders for purchase and resumed the quick pace of her hips. Billy’s eyes travelled from her breasts to the column of her exposed neck as she tipped her head back, to the rear-view mirror. There, he watched the ripple of Ida’s backside with every slam of her hips. The moan that escaped Billy was obscene, as was Ida’s when his hands gripped the flesh of her cheeks and pulled her harder onto him. How he wished he had moved the side mirrors before the condensation settled on the windows. Seeing her from every angle awoke the animal in him, and soon, Ida was no longer in control. Billy grabbed Ida roughly and pulled her flush against him. She squeaked in surprise, and Billy brought his foot up to brace it above the footwell. This new angle gave him greater control over the harshness of his thrusts and the pace of their fucking. As he took one of her breasts in his mouth and resumed pounding into her heat, Ida cried out. Billy brought a hand to hold her waist down on him, and the other ran gently up her back to hold her neck. Ida sighed at his touch and he released her breast from his mouth. Billy ran his thumb across her bottom lip. Bliss was etched on her face. She took his thumb into her mouth and sucked gently.

“Oh my god, Ida-” He removed his hand to kiss her fervently. “You take me so well.” Ida whimpered against his lips. “It’s like you were made just for me.”

“Billy,” his last admission sent joy straight to her centre and pleasure to her core. “Billy, I’m close.” His thrusts sped up and the hand that had caressed her face found its way to her sensitive bundle of nerves. Anything for his Ida. He grazed his thumb over her clit and Ida’s hips bucked unsteadily. She pressed her forehead to his as she ground herself harder on him, desperate for any friction she could find. “Harder,” she moaned. Billy gripped her waist so hard that she knew she’d bruise. One hand on the steamy window, the other on his chest, Ida forced herself frantically down on him. The car was creaking now, though the sound was barely audible over the slap of their skin and lusty moans. Billy’s hips juddered, his pace becoming sloppy. It was over for Ida the second Billy released a few deep grunts with every thrust into her. Blinding heat spread through her body, every inch of exposed skin crackling with electricity. She cried out, tensing around Billy as an earth-shattering orgasm washed over her. Through the haze of her climax, she heard him rasp her name and felt the heat of his seed leak out of her. Looking down through half-lidded eyes, she watched him shudder beneath her, eyes tight shut, biting down on one hand while the other braced against her belly. They stilled, both shaking as their paroxysms of pleasure died away.

“I love you,” Ida said simply, smiling down at him. Billy giggled.

“I love you too.” When he giggled again, Ida joined in. His happiness was infectious. Billy patted his chest and she lay there while he remained seated within her. A few minutes passed while they caught their breath.

“The lady at the pub told you about this place?” Ida hummed a yes. “I’ll have to tell her thank you.”

*

Woodwell, a year to the day that Ida saved Billy’s life. Having left the car at the end of the lane, Ida walked to her and Billy’s little cottage laden with flowers and a cake fresh from the bakery. The pink evening sun was still warm, and Ida welcomed it on her face. From over the clematis border Ida heard music and, rounding the corner, found Billy sat on the front step with her Grandad’s guitar. A glass of beer was forgotten by his feet as he strummed, the chickens digging up weeds happily around him.

“Hey you,” she said softly. He looked up at the sound of her voice and smiled. “Give us a hand.” Ida gestured to the flowers, which Billy took and carried the table in the garden. There was still a lot of work to do on the cottage, with wood and tools stacked against Billy’s worktable. But for today, it would do. Just like at The Swan, Billy had strung fairy lights from the trees. The table was set with glasses and a few bottles of wine, and next door’s cat was already curled on one of the seats, enjoying the last of the day’s sun.

“How long until everyone gets here?” Ida was determined that today would not be one of unhappy introspection and had invited their families over to spend it with them.

“Lana and Thom should be here in about half an hour with Sofia and Faisal. I think mum and dad are bringing your gran for about 6ish?”

“We’ll have to be quick then.” She winked and ran into the house. Billy watched her go, stunned momentarily before coming to his senses. Dropping the flowers hastily on the table, he sprinted across the yard, scaring the chickens and slamming the red door behind him.

“You alright, my love?” Val had asked Ida when they arrived later. She took Ida’s face in her hands and examined her red cheeks and the slight sheen on her forehead. “Your colour’s up a bit.”

“It’s all this country air,” Gwen said from behind her.

“Something like that,” added Sofia, causing Lana to cackle.

“Hush,” Ida whispered to her friends, placing the cake on the table. She watched as everyone began to assemble around the her. The clink of glasses and plates took up. Lana and Sofia continued to giggle, Billy was making Thom and Faisal laugh, and Gwen and Val were  chatting about the garden. Jeff sat in a chair at the end of the table, looking around just as Ida was. When they caught each other’s eye, they smiled gently at each other. Here were their favourite people, happy and altogether. That was enough for them.

Ida dashed into the house for her camera. She hadn’t forgotten, not this time. Unlike all her other photos, she had already picked out a frame for this picture. She stood in the doorway that led from the kitchen into the garden and raised her camera, snapping everyone before they realised she was there. None but billy heard the click of the camera. He looked up, and Ida was quick to take the picture. Her Billy, smiling that lopsided, boyish smile, his hair ruffled and glowing gold in the summer sun. Looking at her as if no one else was around. As if she were the last woman in the world. Ida lowered her camera and smiled back it him, and for a few moments they watched each other.

Billy winked and held out his hand. He was happy, and if any memories of last year were intruding on this moment, he didn’t let it show. With Ida at his side in their little corner of the world, Billy Washington felt for the first time in his life that maybe, just maybe, he was going to be ok.

Note: Woodwell is a village that I made up! And just in case people aren’t familiar with heritage charities (there are a lot in the UK), they generally look after sites of historic interest through research, arts, sciences and public engagement. Quite a few of them are historic properties and have places to live in for the people that work there.

Thank you so much for reading and for all the love. As I said before, any ideas that might make Billy and Ida appear again are welcome!

Tags: @jessssica1234 @anditsmywholeheart @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @i-killed-ramsey @greenowlfactif @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai @reblogedworks

[assortedseaglass]

Come Back To Me

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers, Language

18+. This series will eventually contain violence, specifically related to terrorism; it will be depictions of what happens in the TV series, so those who have seen it will know what to expect. This series will also contain smut.

Author’s Note: Recently rewatched Trigger Point with my family, and I know I’m not the only one here with Billy Washington thirst. First chapter is just setting the scene, in a chapter or two the plot will link up the TV series.

Word Count: 2K

“Mean machine’s seen better days.” Ida slumped into the passenger seat of her best friend’s car, kicking aside an empty crisp packet to make way for her bag. Billy simply hummed in acknowledgment, reaching to turn the radio dial down and turn the ignition.

London, late June. The typically gentle English summer was transforming into a more formidable beast; on the radio a news reader announced that by mid-week the temperature would reach into the 30os. All the windows of Billy’s battered Vauxhall were down, his sandy hair already plastered to his forehead with sweat. Heat bounded off the high rises and bore down onto the street. Curtains flapped through open windows, people trudged wearily along the scorching pavement and the car rumbled towards a red light.

“How’d it go then?” Billy rasped, eyes focused on the traffic. “Fucking tosser,” he added in an undertone as a driver cut across the lane.

“Yeah, ok,” replied Ida. “First years are keen to learn, but they won’t say boo to a goose.”

“To be fair, I’d be terrified of you too,” Billy said with a smirk. “Wouldn’t cross you in a month of Sundays.”

Ida tutted at him but smiled nonetheless. “What’s the plan then, Wash?”

“Park and a pint? Got dinner at Becky’s parents’ tonight so I’ll drop you home around 6?”

“You and Becky back on then?”

Billy winked in response, and Ida tutted again.

“Ah, tune!” Billy ignored Ida’s chiding and turned up the radio.

*

Cranstead Fields at mid-afternoon was full of the typical fare. Young men playing football, dog walkers and a few of what Ida’s grandma called “shifty types”: druggies lurking under the shade of the trees. Billy and Ida sat with their backs against a tree trunk, watching the men kick around the football. Occasionally, it was kicked their way and Billy made a show of kicking it back.

“Go join them if you want, I don’t mind.” Ida’s bag was full of reading she had fallen behind on.

“Nah, you’re alright. Don’t wanna show them up.” He plonked himself back on the grass and lay next to her.

They had been coming to Cranstead Fields since they were kids. When Ida’s grandma grew tired, she offloaded her onto the Washington’s next door. Not that they minded, Billy had too much energy and Ida seemed to anchor him back on earth. Each Saturday, she watched from the side lines with Val or Jeff while Billy was at football club. If they were lucky, they’d get ice creams on the way home. Back at the house they’d bounce on the trampoline, waving to Ida’s grandma over the fence as she sat with a cup of tea and the cat in the sun. Inevitably, when Billy’s rough and tumble got too much for little Ida, she’d wander indoors and hover in Lana’s doorway. Billy’s older sister by ten years, Ida would watch as Lana put on make-up, or listen to whatever she had in her CD player.

Since the day she moved next door with her Grandma, Ida and Billy were inseparable and Cranstead was their playground. It was where their guardians sent them for a run around in a last-ditch attempt to rid them of energy before dinner. It was where Ida followed Billy as he screamed and shouted about Lana being their dad’s favourite after a particularly explosive argument. Where they sat on the swings, downing tinnies as Ida cried about a boy that Billy, quite frankly, didn’t think was worth it. Today, Cranstead served as common ground, somewhere to catch up as adulthood pulled them in different directions. Ida, a PhD student, teaching and researching to make her way. Billy, well, who knows?

Ida’s eyes were distracted from the football by the sound of tearing. Billy was pulling up clumps of grass. She reached out and put her hand on top of his. “Stop that.” He threw the last clump over her, which she wiped from her hair before asking what was wrong.

“This dinner thing tonight. Becky’s parents don’t hide the fact they hate me-“

“That’s not true!”

“Don’t interrupt. They’ve never liked me, Ida. And let’s be honest, who’d want their daughter with someone on the dole?” Billy sat up and put his elbows on his knees, eyeing the flats on the horizon.

Ida sat up and patted his back a moment. “Everyone’s struggling to get a job these days, something’ll come up. And if they say anything about it tonight, send em my way.” She nudged his shoulder, he huffed a non-committal laugh and they both looked at the horizon.

“Why don’t you talk to Becky about it?” Ida said. “Surely she can have a word with her parents? Mustn’t be nice for her to have them slag off her boyfriend!” The ball flew back towards them, and Billy stood to kick it back. He didn’t sit down again.

“Think she agrees with them to be honest.” He rubbed the back of his neck and Ida tutted. When Billy smirked down at her, she felt her cheeks burn.

“What?”

“I love that sound,” he said.

THWUMP

A wayward kick sent the football soaring into the back of Billy’s head.

“Watch it!” Ida shouted at the men, standing up. Billy grabbed the football from the ground, and instead of kicking it back, ran towards the car, laughing wildly.

“Wash! Billy Washington! Christ!” Ida grabbed her bag, heavy and full to bursting with books, and sprinted after him. The sound of the men shouting at them was muffled as her breath roared in her ears. Ahead of her, Billy dropped the ball, got in the car and started the engine. Ida flung herself into the passenger seat once more and they sped out of the car park and towards home.

*

Billy kept the engine running when they arrived outside Ida’s flat above the florist. The lights were already on. Sofia was home then. “Come in for a cuppa?”

“Nah, best be off to beat the traffic.” Billy leant his arm on the open car window and looked at her. Bright, deep and blue, his eyes gave the impression of one trying to hide that they had been crying. Above them were eyebrows set in one of two states; a frown or perplexment. A man with his heart on his sleeve. A flush of red always adorned his nose and the high points of his cheeks, even when he wasn’t embarrassed. When he was, he’d look down and freeze.

They had always been opposites. Where Billy was tall and lithe, Ida was short and soft. He sun-smattered and rosy, she pale and freckled. Ida was uptight, Billy was relaxed. She enjoyed being alone, he craved other people. Her smiles were broad and her laughter small, his were the other way around. Where Ida’s hair was dark and curly, his was like flaxen straw and in desperate need of cutting. A few tendrils were sticking to the nape of his neck, and Ida was just close enough to reach out and curl one around her finger…

“Ida?” Billy was grinning lopsidedly at her, the early evening light catching in his messy hair and bestowing him a halo. Ida laughed at that observation. Billy raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

“Well, good luck,” she said awkwardly, fumbling with her bag and keys. Recovering herself she added, “And if they say anything, tell em to do one. Text me later, yeah?” Billy saluted in response and without another word, pulled away.

Ida waited until he’d turned the corner, waving as he did, before turning the key and dragging her sun-weary body up the stairs of the flat. She was right, Sofia was home - muffled giggles could be heard from her room.

A few minutes later, Sofia appeared in the doorway of the kitchen as Ida rooted around the fridge. “You been with Billy?”

“Yeah,”

“He got a job yet?”

“Nah.” Ida retrieved a squash from the back of the fridge and waved it at her friend. “Gonna make dinner, you want some?” Sofia nodded. “Does Faisal want feeding too?” Ida continued.

Sofia blushed. “How do you know!?”

“It’s that post-coital glow,” Ida winked and Sofia laughed.

“You could have it too, if only you invited a fella round once in a while.”

“Hush, you, do you want feeding?” Ida waggled her finger. Sofia gave her a knowing look and left to fetch Faisal from the bedroom. What Sofia didn’t know was that Ida couldn’t invite any old “fella” round. Not when one was already stuck in her head.

*

Billy wanted a beer. Why did he drive instead of getting the train? Becky’s parents had opened a bottle of Merlot to lubricate that evening’s interrogation, and he was feeling horrifically sober. When they asked him for the hundredth time whether he regretted not going to university, he looked to Becky but she avoided his eye and became very interested in her empty plate.

“I didn’t get the grades.” He said. Don’t lie to make them feel better. Ida’s voice echoed around his head. For a moment, no said a word.

“Your friend Ida is doing well, isn’t she.” Mrs Walters said, though it was a statement more than a question. “Funny that, really. How different two children with almost identical upbringings can be?” Did they really think him so stupid that he couldn’t pick up that thinly veiled insult? At least they’d presented him with a change of subject.

“Yeah, I picked her up from the uni today actually. She’s been teaching some of the first years.” Both of Becky’s parents looked to her instead of Billy, gauging her reaction. She looked at her father pointedly and continued to ignore Billy.

“Teaching undergraduates is a lot easier than teaching primary school though.” Becky’s dad chimed in. “Becky’s got the responsibility of early years progression on her shoulders. Not to mention all those bloody colds she gets from the little rascals!”

What could he say? Billy downed his water and putting on his bravest smile said, “I’d better be off. Up early tomorrow.”

“For what?”

Billy didn’t reply, only kissed Mrs Walters on the cheek, shook Mr Walters’ hand and followed Becky to the door. Her blonde hair was tied tightly in a ponytail, her arms folded over her crisply ironed blouse.

“Coming back to the flat?” Billy asked, snaking an arm around her waist and kissing her deeply.

“Not tonight,” she said between kisses. “Going to stay at mum and dad’s.”

Billy nuzzled and nibbled at her neck. “What’s the point of paying the rent if you’re always here? Come on, come back tonight,”

“Billy.” She put her arms on his chest and lightly pushed him away.

“Ok. Ok.” He said it more to himself than anyone else. He span around before he left, and kissed her quickly on the cheek. She giggled, then shut the door on him.

His phone was out in a flash. Without thinking, the same way your feet carry you home before you have even realised it, he sent a text to the last person in his messages.

Middle class wankers.

Seconds later, his phone pinged.

Went well then. Meet at the Swan tomorrow? 3ish? x

Starting the engine of his battered car, Billy Washington smiled for what felt like the first time in hours.

[assortedseaglass]

Recollections - A Come Back To Me Story

[Masterlist]

Request:  I was thinking very generally and vaguely about either Billy and Ida or Bess and Tom, something about how the romance started? As in... How the soft feelings and affection built up during their teenage years, the pining, the mutual comfort from one another, just spending time together every day being friendly? Just... I want the sweet teenage romance fluff ya know? The deep friendship, the love that they have for one another when we meet them and how it started. @annoying-leftist-donkey

Billy Washington x Ida Súilleabháin (OFC)

Warnings: Language, underage drinking (very little), minor spoilers for Trigger Point and Come Back To Me

Word Count: 3.6K

Spring 2005

“Billy, love?”

In the flowerbed, a stag beetle made its slow way across the soil beneath the petunias. Billy watched it, bent over, hands on his scabbed and scrawny knees.

“Billy?”

The little boy stroked the iridescent blue of its back. Slowly, it raised its nobbled front legs and waved them in his direction. Billy smiled.

“Billy! Get your head out the flowers! Gwen’s calling you!” Val hurried beyond the front gate to next door’s driveway. A white van was parked across the entrance, and Billy watched as his mother picked up a cardboard box and hurried after into the house. He stood up, rubbed his mane of sandy hair and shuffled to the fence that separated his home from the old lady’s next door. Gwen, the old lady in question, was showing the white van men where to offload the boxes when she spotted Billy with his elbows on the fence.

“Alright Billy, love?”

“There was a beetle in the flowers.” His head lolled onto one arm. One of the white van men lifted a single mattress onto his shoulder and walked towards the door. The bulk of his tattooed arm flexed and, from the corner of his eye, Billy saw his older sister Lana grin. Eurgh.

“Well, my love, I’m sure it’ll be there in a little while. He’ll be happy in the shade.” Gwen dabbed at her forehead with a tissue and clapped her hands. “Now then. Could you pop this little box upstairs for me, Billy? In the old spare room?” Billy nodded and made his way around the fence. Gwen smiled down at him as his skinny arms wrapped around the cardboard.

“Is it books?” he grunted, lifted the box to rest on his chest. Gwen laughed.

“They are, yes.” She guided him into the dim hallway of the house. “You know my granddaughter has come to live with me? Well,” She continued when Billy nodded. “She’s been through ever such a tough time. Why don’t you say hello?” Billy stared at her a while, mouth slightly open as he pondered her request. What did you say to girls? He wasn’t sure he’d ever talked to the girls at school, not past “hello,” and “pass the football”. Again, he nodded slowly and ambled into the house. The man with the tattoos ruffled his hair as he squeezed past Billy on the staircase. He didn’t need directing; Billy always stayed in Gwen’s spare room when his parents went out and Lana was too stubborn to babysit.

The door was propped open by a suitcase. A raft of sunlight illuminated the floral curtains and the yellow paint of the walls shone marigold. When he’d first stayed here, Billy turned his nose up at the décor, but soon found comfort in Gwen’s plump bedding and lavender air freshener. He knocked the door with his trainer and entered. A little girl sat on the bed, hair fuzzy like an electrocuted cottonbud, her face solemn amongst the vibrancy of the room.

“Books.” Billy said matter-of-factly, pushing out his chest to indicate the box he held. The little girl pointed to the small bookshelf at the end of her bed. He left the box there and looked at the little girl. Her legs dangled over the side of the bed, swinging sadly. A few toys were scattered here and there; a stuffed bear, a doll with long legs and a loose tennis ball, yet it still didn’t look like a little girl’s room.

“Do you want me to help?”

The little girl looked up at him. Her eyes were puffy and Billy froze. Lana cried all the time. She screamed at mum and dad then cried in her room. Billy often took to standing by the doorway, watching her, just so she wasn’t alone. He didn’t know what else to do.

The girl shook her head. “That’s ok,” her voice was small. Billy swung his arms at his side then made for the door. “What’s your name?” she said suddenly.

 “Billy. Live next door.”

“Like Billy Bunter.”

“Who?” He watched as she hopped from the bed and rounded past him to open the box of books. She rooted around before pulling out a worn hardback. She handed it to Billy. He cringed a little at the feel of its dusty cover. Old things made him feel funny. He looked at the title. Billy Bunter of Greyfriars School.

“It was my dad’s.”

“Right,”

“Have it if you want,”

“I only read comics,”

“Well, I don’t want it anymore.”

“Oh, erm, ok.” He dashed out of the door. Halfway down the stairs, he turned and made his way back to the old spare room. “What’s your name?”

The little girl was on her knees, placing the books on the shelf.

“Ida.”

Autumn 2013

Ida didn’t want to sit on the wet swings. She’d forced Billy to take off his red cape, and was arranging it on the seat to protect her bottom. The boy in question was already swinging on the seat next to her, scuppering his shoes as they scraped along the ground.

“Why can’t you use your cape?”

“Because mine is satin, and yours is an old curtain.” Ida sat down and kicked off the ground, giggling a little at the way her cape flutter around her. “Do I look like a real superhero?”

Billy scoffed. “Don’t remember Loki giggling on the kid’s swings.”

“And I don’t remember Thor having matchsticks arms.”

“Fuck off,” Billy flicked his long fringe from his face and smiled. As his feet swept the ground, Ida swung higher and higher. Each time she flew past him, she stuck her head backwards so that she was completely straight, looking at him upside down. She’d made their costumes herself. Billy’s armour was made from cut up bin lids spray painted silver. Ida’s was a six quid leather jumpsuit from Primark. He’d met her at the door of Gwen’s with a litre bottle of cider hidden behind his back, and when she’d opened the door, a wave of cold fear washed over him. She looked…different.

“You’ll freeze in that bloody outfit,” Gwen was hurrying Ida from the house. “Back by midnight please.” Ida rolled her eyes as she walked to Billy. They knocked on a few houses, accepting sweets from those who remembered it was Halloween, then meandered towards Cranstead Fields’ play park at the back of the houses. The bottle was half drunk, the hum of the alcohol staving off the cold. A group of boys skirted the park, each dressed in a cotton skeleton onesie. One lifted his mask and shouted at Billy.

“Shown her your hammer yet?” The others guffawed.

Billy lobbed a boiled sweet from his trick or treat bag at him. “Fuck off!”

“Billy!” Ida stopped her swinging and bumped into Billy. He shot her a dirty look as the boys ran away, their taunting cackles echoing in the damp night. Neither spoke for a while. Moths skittered under the lampposts. Orange light dappled in the rain-soaked ground and the first of the season’s fireworks dotted the skyline over the bustling city. A fox called. “Did something happen, Bills?”

He knew what she was getting at. Things hadn’t been good at home for a while. Lana was overseas, and Val and Jeff were worried. Billy made his mum a cup of tea each day before he went to school. She was sleeping in a little later these days, despondent and distant. Jeff was the opposite, falling asleep in front of Match of the Day, clutching a beer and the picture of them all at Lana’s trooping out. Things went from manageable to volatile when Billy’s GCSE results came through. In truth, he was proud of himself. He’d scraped the grades he needed to do his A levels; physical education, English, design tech. He’d had extra tuition for maths and Ida made books so exciting that he’d surprised everyone with his B in English. But everything else was…average. Less than.

What have you been doing all year?

With everything going on already Billy! Really?

Your mum’s nerves are already shattered without having to worry about you!

 For God’s sake Billy, grow up.

Your sister’s off getting shot at and you can’t even pass a few exams?

“Dad. Had a few too many. ‘S’all.”

Ida nodded sadly. He wasn’t looking at her, but at the moths in the lamplight. “Do you want to stay at ours tonight? You know Gran won’t mind,”

Billy flicked his fringe away and sniffed. “Yeah. Yeah, go on.” He grabbed the chain of Ida’s swing and pulled her towards him. “You’re all I’ve got left now,”

“Don’t be dramatic-”

“It’s true,” he wrapped his arms around her shoulders and passed her the cider. “You and Lana are the only ones that get me. And Lana hasn’t been the same since training. All righteous and-” He waved his hand in the air, as if grasping for a word.

“Stuck up?” Ida offered. Billy clicked his fingers.

“Stuck up.”

The clack of heels along the park path made them both look up. Immediately, Billy let go of the chain holding Ida next to him, and she swung sadly back into place. Three girls, Ida suspected from the university, were tottering through the park dressed as nurses. Nurses in fishnets with skirts round their arses.

“I mean, what the fuck is that meant to be?” Ida muttered. “Zombie nurses?” Billy didn’t reply. Ida looked at him. He was sat upright, shoulders back, ruffling his hair to give it a devil-may-care look he could never achieve.

“They wouldn’t look at you twice,”

“Doesn’t stop me looking at them.”

Spring 2017

She hadn’t been clubbing since first year. A round of vodka and cokes cost the same as a week’s rent in London, and the clubs on the outskirts of the city picked up the dregs. The dealers offering heroine instead of cocaine. Students from the city, not the international students funded by their parents. Disenfranchised locals. Ida and some other girls from her English Literature course found an old bar that some of the post-grads frequented, styled like on old speakeasy with dim lighting for dancing. It was the place that academics went to get pissed and shag, in the guise of research meetings and networking. But, for tonight, for Billy, she made an exception.

The Warehouse. The place for sticky floors and red strobe lights. Asking the guys behind the bar for “whatever’s cheapest”. For slagging off the world and screaming into the void. Something Just Like This was pounding over the speakers, and Billy’s head was lolling onto his chest as he danced, sweat dripping from the tendrils of his hair. His eyes were half-lidded, lost in the music or the alcohol or the day, but it was time to get him home. Ida tugged at his arm. She tugged at his arm again. Billy looked at her as though awakening from sleep. As though he had forgotten she was there.

“Can we go now?” Ida shouted over the music. Someone bumped into her back and sugary liquid splattered down her arm.

“What?” he shouted in her ear? He smelt of fresh sweat and Lynx.

“Can we go home now?” Billy didn’t reply for a moment and kept dancing to the music as he looked at her. Ida tugged his arm and stomped her foot.

“Alright,” he smiled a little, grabbed her hand and pushed through the crowd. The cold spring air outside The Warehouse hit Billy like a punch to the gut and he doubled over with a grunt.

“You gonna be sick?” Ida was tying up her hair and rubbing sweat from the back of her neck.

“Nah,” Billy stood upright, regaining his balance as he burped. Ida made a face. “I told you I wouldn’t drink much.”

I’m not looking after you tonight if you go drinking like a twat

When Ida raised her eyebrows, Billy alternated putting his finger on his nose while walking toward her. He only stumbled a little.

“Alright,” Ida wrapped one arm around Billy’s neck and together they began the walk home. “You’ve proved your point.”  

The night was quiet, as were they. In the twelve years since Ida moved next door, she’d developed a language with Billy that didn’t always need a voice, just the warmth of someone being there when others weren’t. There were alone, together. Ida was mulling over this melancholy comfort when she realised Billy wasn’t next to her. Panic flared in her vodka-fogged brain, but when she turned around, it dissolved into sadness. A few metres away, sat on the pavement’s edge, Billy had his head in his hands. He was shaking.

The stone was cold when she sat down and put her arm around Billy. At once he fell sideways, curling into her lap. A car sped past, tyres hissing on the wet road. He didn’t even flinch.

“Three times,” he whispered.

“I know,”

“Three times. I don’t get what’s wrong with me.”

Ida stroked his hair. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“I mean,” he sat up, his voice bolder. “You’ve seen some of the guys that Lana was in Afghanistan with! John’s a tough guy but he hasn’t got more than two braincells. How the fuck can he diffuse bombs?”

“Maybe that’s why he diffuses bombs-”

“What is so wrong with me that I can’t even get into the fucking army? Passed the physical every time and I’m not mental. I don’t fucking fit in anywhere. Not the army, not at home-” Ida let him rant. There was no use in arguing with him. Billy was so mardy these days. Everything made him angry. He’d probably snap at her if she flashed her tits at him. Ida blushed. Where the fuck did that thought come from? She reached around her neck and unclasped the necklace there. She draped it over Billy’s head.

“What you doing?”

“Giving you a present,”

Billy looked down at the pendant dangling at the end of the chain. Very faintly he could make out a woman draped in robes. “Who is it?”

“Saint Dymphna. Gran gave it to me after mum and dad-you know-” Ida trailed off. “Anyway, I want you to have it now.”

“Cheers,” he was still looking at it as he rubbed his nose and brushed the tear tracks on his cheeks.

“She looks after people when they’re sad. I’m glad you’re not going, Billy.” Ida’s heart leapt into her throat when he looked at her, a mixture of anger and curiosity swimming in his teary eyes. “It means you’re not leaving me behind.”

Billy’s mouth twitched in a sad smile. Then it broadened mischievously. He leant backwards, arms reaching for something on the pavement. “I’m not sad.” Then he whacked her with a traffic cone.

“What the hell, Billy!?” Ida shrieked as he stood up and ran into the empty road. She grabbed the other and charged at him, its pointy end jabbing him in the ribs.

“Ow!” he said through laughter. “Tell you what, they should sign you up.” Whatever irascible flights of fancy took over Billy, mood swings or traffic cone-induced silliness, Ida was glad at least to see him smiling. Billy put the cone on his head and ran at her, bent over like a fluorescent rhinoceros and their laughter bounced off the sleeping houses. Somewhere along the walk, they found an abandoned shopping trolley and Billy pushed Ida in it the rest of the way home. He tipped her out unceremoniously outside her house and left it on the pavement. Over the fences of their two houses, they waved goodnight.

“It’ll be better in the morning, Billy, promise.” She stuck her little finger over the fence. He lopped it with his in non-committal.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, unlocked the door, and disappeared inside.

Winter 2018

“It’s very romantic, isn’t it?” Val was refolding clothes as Billy put them in his suitcase.

“Mum, please.” He snatched a jumper from her hands and put it back atop his pile of clothes. “You know she’s wanted to go for ages. It’s her twenty first, the tickets were cheap and it means I can get a rest from you lot.”

“Don’t think you’ll be getting much rest, Bills.” Lana winked over her cup of tea.

“Fuck off,” Billy launched a balled-up pair of socks at her. Some of her tea spilled onto the carpet and Val tutted. Lana was already laughing her way down the hallway.

It wasn’t the first time the conversation had replayed in his mind over the last few days. Billy saved up to buy a bottle of champagne on the Eurostar. The steward poured their drinks and smiled sweetly at Ida.

“He’s a keeper.”

Billy coughed and his neck went bright red. Ida spluttered, “It’s my twenty-first-” The steward, not seeming to have heard, finished pouring the champagne and left the carriage.

Once they had checked into the small Montmartre hotel, they’d walked across the city in search of food. Or rather, drink. Winter in Paris was achingly cold, especially at night, and the pair of them were wrapped up to there ears in woollens. Ida was insistent that they sit outside, “like in the films”.  She sank a bottle of red all to herself and Billy had a cold glass of beer. He watched as she chatted excitedly about her plans for the trip, the museums and bookshops she longed to see. Her cheeks had turned the same colour as her red scarf, the warm glow of the wine and the candle on the table painting her the exact colour of comfort. Billy forgot he was cold. They walked along the Seine after, Ida leaning on him as her tipsy feet wobbled on the cobbles. They passed numerous couples, old and young, French and foreign. The black water of the Seine began to glitter with light. The Eiffel Tower sparkled across the water and a distant clapping carried towards them. A man was on one knee below the tower, another man jumping up and down with excitement.

“Lovely!” Ida was such a sweet drunk. “Cliché, but lovely.”

The last time Billy remembered the conversation with his sister and mother happened at the Musée d’Orsay, and if the universe was trying to hint at something, it wasn’t being subtle. He’d lost her. She’d wandered off in a world of her own, reading every label and taking in every painting. When he found her, he simultaneously felt like his dick was going to burst through his trousers and shrivel up inside his body. With her back to him, Ida was looking at a painting of a woman’s fanny, full in the face. He grabbed her shoulder.

“It’s amazing isn’t it? L’Origine du Monde-”

“I’ve been looking for you,” Billy pulled her away, glancing over his shoulder for one last look at the painting. A security guard caught his eye and winked. Billy’s head snapped forward so quickly he heard it crack.

Summer 2022

There was no shade. Heat was radiating off the pavement, and Ida could feel the hot stone through the soles of her shoes. She looked at her phone.

On my way x

He’d sent it forty minutes ago. “Come the fuck on, Billy.” Her bag was full to bursting and the books that didn’t fit were cradled in her arms. A few of the undergraduate students passed by, waving goodbye as they hopped onto the university bus. Her PhD teaching still had a long way to go, but at least the students liked to learn. The bus departed the stop and as she watched it go, the barking honk of a car horn almost made her drop her books.

Without her noticing, Billy had pulled up in his battered old Vauxhall. He was laughing at her through the dusty window, his lopsided smile full of mirth. He leant over and opened the door for her.

“Sorry I’m late,” he swatted some rubbish off the passenger seat as Ida slumped into it, kicking aside an empty crisp packet to make way for her bag.

“Mean machine’s seen better days,”

Notes: Billy and Ida, my sweet summer children. If you’ve read Come Back To Me, you know that this story ends where that begins.

I like to think that 16 year old Billy would have gone through the emo curtain hair phase of 2010-2014, hence the Thor look. LOL. You know I like my research! Halloween of 2013 was a week before Thor 2 hit cinemas, and Something Just Like This was UK’s number one dance song in 2017.

Come Back To Me Tags: @jessssica1234 @heimtathurs @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @greenowlfactif @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai @arcielee @ewanmitchellcrumbs @babyblue711

[assortedseaglass]

An Ever Fixed Mark - A Come Back To Me Oneshot

Billy Washington x Ida (OFC)

[Come Back To Me Masterlist]

Warnings: Fluff, smutty thoughts

Word Count: 1.7K

Note: This is a long overdue thank you to @exitpursuedbyavulcan for their support of Come Back To Me. Just a sweet little drabble about my favourite idiots. It follows on from the events of Come Back To Me and contains OCs, so if you aren’t familiar, maybe give that a read first.

If it weren’t for the steady voice of the priest, Billy would have forgotten where he was. Across the altar, illuminated by stream of July light, stood Ida. From the moment Faisal had knocked on his door that morning with a panicked “Ready?”, all Billy wanted was to see her. In a rush of wedding-induced delirium, the morning faded into afternoon and guests were gathering in the little church. She’d glided up the aisle, the little flowergirl in front of her throwing petals on the ground like grenades. The congregation ahed and laughed, but Billy could see only her. From the bouquet of flowers she held, bright sweet peas, roses and lily-of-the-valley to the pink hue of her joy-freckled cheeks, Ida held him enraptured.

The entire service, he had grinned at her like a schoolboy, palms sweating as the exchange of the rings approached. By some miracle (his life had been so full of miracles these last eighteen months) he hadn’t dropped them, placing them tenderly on the Bible and resuming his sentinel behind Faisal, gazing at Ida. Her eyes were glazed with tears now, the breadth of her smile near forcing them to fall. The usually unruly hair had been wrestled into gentle curls that framed her face, a few whisps haloed by the red and blue of the stained-glass window. He knew it was sacrilegious to say it, but she truly was the most beautiful woman there. Billy watched with glee as she took a shuddering breath of anticipation.

“By the power vested in me,” the priest between them held up his hands. “I know pronounce you man and wife. Go in peace. Faisal, you may kiss-” Before the dear man could finish his sentence, Sofia leapt at Faisal, her arms encircling his neck as the crowd cheered with applause. Behind her, Ida’s tears brimmed over as she laughed, the flowergirl holding her hand jumping up and down with glee. Sofia led Faisal down the aisle, smiling proudly and showing off her wedding ring to the crowd. Faisal shook hasty hands with family and friends as he passed, not once losing step with his bride and laughing at her abounding happiness. Ida hurried the flowergirl after them, giggling she tottered behind the bride and groom, waving at the crowd and utterly oblivious to their focus on the newlyweds. Billy held out his arm for Ida and, with a bashful smile, she took it.

“You look amazing,” he whispered in her ear as they made their way to the front of the church. Ida’s eyes drifted downwards, attempting to hide the growing blush with her hair.

“You don’t look so bad yourself, Wash.” She nudged his shoulder; it was his turn to blush. “Though I can’t wait to get these pins out of my hair,”

“And I can’t wait to get you out of that dress,” Billy said lowly in the shell of her ear.

If the church has been full to the rafters, then the hotel function suit was bound to burst. Sugar-high children, reminiscing elders and everyone in between spilled from the suit into the summer evening sun. Sofia and Faisal, a glass of champagne in each hand, moved around their loved ones as if gliding on air. Faisal’s parents were regal in their Shalwar kameeze and Anarkali against the sea of linen suits and summer dresses, and Sofia’s parents, with their white-blonde hair and golden skin as beautiful as their daughter’s, spoke to them with glowing pride. Gladness and well wishes filled the air.

“What a beautiful couple,”

“What a gorgeous day,”

Amongst it all, Billy and Ida were the model wedding party, welcoming friends, charming the families and ensuring the day went without a hitch. At least, without Sofia and Faisal knowing. Occasionally, they caught each other’s eye from across the room and beamed. Ida basking in the radiant joy of her best friend’s happiness, Billy at being finally and firmly accepted into this found family. The flowergirl dotted between them, begging Ida to play or Billy to dance. When, after the dinner, she had been beckoned to bed by her parents, she hugged Ida around the knees and gave Billy a wet kiss on the cheek. Ida’s stomach kneaded as she watched him with the little girl. She had just reached out her hand to him, caressing the sun-kissed skin there, when the clinking of spoon against glass rang out. The newlyweds and their parents were seated at the top table, the guests shuffling to their chairs. Ida tucked herself into the crook of Billy’s shoulder, leaning against his chest and inhaled his cologne. Nothing needed to be said; their minds already worked in tandem. Instead, he lazily brought his hand to graze at her waist and watched as Sofia’s father stood to address the crowd.

Ida smiled as he told stories of Sofia as a young girl, her nature vivacious from the moment she took her first breaths. The crowd laughed when tales turned to her time at university, and the arrival of the maid-of-honour in his daughter's life. Ida should have brought seriousness and study, instead their pair of girls partied and drank and somehow passed their exams. Billy pinched her side and Sofia winked at her best friend. The career, the travels, and eventually, Faisal.

“I was convinced the moment that my little girl first smiled up at me, that no-one could be a match for her. No one as brilliant, and bright, and adventurous and fun-loving. I was right.” The crowd chortled. “But then Faisal came along. Faisal with his kind eyes and his kind heart, and I watched as he and my Sofia fell in love. One day, I asked them to help me bring the weekly shop in from the car. An hour it took them. Pausing between each bag to talk. About the weather, the world, their hopes and dreams, what was on telly last night, and I knew as I watched them that he was the man for her.” He placed his hand on Faisal’s shoulder, and the groom patted it with affection. “Love isn’t a rollercoaster, or easy. Sometimes it isn’t even patient or kind. It’s soul-baring, visceral and long. I shan’t give advice to these two, so perfectly suited for a life together. But if I have anything to say it’s this; at the end of it all our hearing goes and we forget the glasses we’ve lost are on our heads. Our skin sags and our minds slow. Marry someone that sees the worst of you, all of you, and thinks the sun shines out your arse regardless.” The crowd laughed and clapped. Ida turned her head to Billy and found he was already watching her. With a wink, he kissed her forehead and raised his glass to toast his friends.

Before either of them new it, the night was drawing in. Sofia and Faisal were dancing at the centre of the room, Robbie Williams’ Angels playing on the decks.

“Wouldn’t be a wedding without it,” Billy whispered to Ida before pulling her close. Her eyes were hazy with champagne, and his own head felt as if it were full of cotton wool. She wrapped her arms around is neck and he was reminded delightfully of school discos, girls and boys stood stiffly apart as they held each other awkwardly in some strange imitation of what they had seen their parents doing. A prepubescent game of grown up. Ida kissed his neck, and Billy would have felt embarrassed about the sweat that fell there if it weren’t for the way he’d heard her inhale his scent.

“I’m done now,” she had said with her head lolling against his shoulder. “I want to get into bed.” Billy rubbed her back soothingly and watched as Faisal dipped Sofia into a kiss.

“Last song. Soon,”

Ida looked up at him. Red bloomed across his cheeks from the heat of the air, the dancing and the alcohol. Since the incident he kept his hair short, but it still managed to stick to his forehead. A long while ago the uncomfortable ties the groomsmen wore had been discarded and his floral buttonhole was lobsided. He looked how she had always known him; frayed at the edges, the young and turbulent life he had already lived playing out across the canvas of him. A hand tapped her shoulder and with difficulty she tore her eyes away from her Billy.

“We’re off,” Sofia pulled Ida into a hug. “Thank you for everything today.”

“Thanks mate,” Faisal clapped Billy on the back and lifted him off the ground in a tight embrace. They laughed together.

“Here,” Sofia pressed something into Ida’s hands and, looking down, she saw it was her bouquet. “I thought about throwing it, but I wanted you to have it.”

Ida raised her eyebrows. “What are you saying, Mrs?” Sofia waggled hers in response, then turned to pull her husband away through the dancers and towards the car waiting to whisk them to their honeymoon. Billy and Ida watched from a distance, his arms still clinging to her hips, as their friends drove away and into married life. No sooner had the car pulled out of the hotel’s dark drive was Ida wrenching Billy towards the door.

“Haven’t we got to help clear up?” He asked, looking at the family and hotel staff packing away chairs.

“We’ve done enough today. I need to get you upstairs, Wash.”

“What for?”

All breath left him. Ida looked over her shoulder, past their entwined hands and into his eyes with a determined and wolfish gaze. “Just you wait.”

Note: The title is from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116, which I just adore!

Tagging the old Come Back To Me crew: @jessssica1234 @heimtathurs @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @aemonds-wifey @slytherincursebreaker @valerie977 @greenowlfactif @yentroucnagol @schniiipsel @multiple-fandoms-girl @just-emmaaaa @tosiaf @kage-no-sonzai