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frvnkcastles · 3 months ago

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I'd love to give you and idea for like a part 2 to your reader that struggles with reading and air control? Maybe reader is home alone and frank is out with Matt on rooftopsand matt hears you singing with perfect control and brings frank closer so he can hear? Frank flicks her a text asking if she can fix 3 plates for dinner as he's gonna bring a guest and they come in through the fire escape. Matt's being a flirty prick and it gets Frank's hackles up where he ends up telling him eat and gtfo of our place and the reader just beam

(The reader had a perfect rasp to ding along to Teddy Swims? Please)

BURN A LITTLE BRIGHTER TONIGHT ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: Frank brings Matt over for dinner, only to regret it sooner rather than later.

Warnings: Mostly just fluff, jealous Frank, feminine nicknames, language

Word count: 1.6k

Author’s note: Anon, thank you so much for being patient with me, I know I took a long time with this and I do feel really bad about it! I hope you like it <3

Frank was still firmly of the opinion that him and Matt were not friends. But begrudgingly, he had to admit that he had grown to tolerate the guy — enough to invite him over for dinner. The two had been working together for the past couple of nights and despite their differences on how to approach the criminals they had been tracking, they had gotten the job done. In the process Frank had also learned more about Matt than he would have preferred, but upon realizing that the man was a little lonely lately, he reluctantly extended an offer to get some food and beer in him. He could be an asshole, but he considered himself incredibly lucky to share a life with you, and he pitied Matt for not having that same luxury.

He just didn’t realize that bringing Matt to you would involve the man getting overly eager about you.

”Huh, what is it?” Frank queried when Matt suddenly stopped on the rooftop, his head tilted curiously to listen closely, and it got Frank alert in an instant. They had taken care of a bunch of crooks already, but he was prepared to fight some more if necessary, and as much was obvious from the way he quickly reached for his gun.

”Listen”, was all Matt said, not explaining a single thing, and it earned a displeased grunt from Frank. He hated how vague the man could be — especially when he didn’t have the same hyper-sensitive hearing that Matt seemed to flaunt.

But when he gave in and focused, he could hear exactly what Matt had stopped for. It was a singing voice that could only be described as enchanting and impressive… and it belonged to you. Frank had heard you sing the occasional catchy jingle or a few lyrics from your favorite song, enough for him to recognize it, but he had never witnessed it like this. It was so carefree and glorious, with no restraints or worries about anyone hearing, and it made his heart leap in his chest. You always found new ways to amaze him, to make him fall for you just a little harder, and it melted his tough exterior as he listened in.

”That’s my girl”, Frank breathed out, both praising and surprised, his eyes wide and his hand dropping from the gun hidden in the waistband of his pants. He was captivated by your voice, and he almost forgot about Matt next to him, only for the man in red to cut through his daze.

”Does she know we’re on our way?” he asked, and snapping out of his admiration for you, Frank glanced at him.

”Shit, no, I didn’t text her yet. Gimme a moment”, he grumbled, digging out his phone and typing a quick message to you to inform that he was coming home and bringing Matt with him. It had become your little routine to cook for him so he wouldn’t have to start from scratch or eat from a can, and he appreciated it greatly — sometimes, he tried putting up a fight about it, insisting that it wasn’t fair for you to be doing all the work, but you loved taking care of him. Tonight, he hoped, you wouldn’t mind an extra plate at the table.

Only moments after he had sent the message, the singing ceased, and Frank figured you didn’t want to be caught in the act. His heart swelled in his chest, wondering if it would be appropriate for him to bring up your voice because he truly thought it was beautiful. Still, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

You were all smiles when Matt and Frank came in through the fire escape, wiping your hands in a kitchen towel and taking in their appearance in the worry that one of them was injured. Frank could read your face easily, and he was quick to reassure you.

”We’re alright, sweetheart”, he rasped while stepping over to you, cradling your head so he could plant a soft kiss on your forehead. ”Shouldn’t be leavin’ the window open”, he chastised you gently, his tone firm but loving.

You chuckled and squeezed his shoulder. ”I have to, ’cause my boyfriend doesn’t know how to use a door”, you countered, earning a gruff laugh from Frank. As he went to hang up his jacket by the front door, you turned to Matt who was taking off his mask and ruffling his hair. ”I hope you like pasta carbonara, I made plenty for all of us”, you announced with a soft smile.

”It’s perfect. Thank you for having me. You’re very kind”, Matt nodded with gratitude, delighting you. Frank in turn gave him a suspicious look — on one hand, he wanted you to be appreciated, but on the other, he had very little tolerance for anyone, but especially Matt, sweet-talking his girl.

You helped Matt to the dining table and with Frank’s help, got plates for all three of you. You had barely dug into the food when Matt was speaking up again, mentioning the topic that Frank had purposefully dodged for now.

”I must say, you’re a wonderful singer”, he began, and with an open mouth, you glanced between him and Frank, surprised that he had heard you. Then again, he did have a particular talent for catching things most people never would.

”Oh—I—thank you, that’s sweet”, you rambled, caught a little off-guard, and Frank noticed it in your nervous smile.

”Uh, yeah, we heard ya, darlin’. He’s right, though, you’re… you’re real talented. I loved it”, Frank cut in, a genuine look in his eyes. It grounded you, and with a slow nod, you reached for his hand across the table and held on tightly. He could tell you hadn’t been prepared to receive praise on the matter, so he opened his mouth to change the subject, but Matt beat him to it.

”Truly, you’ve got an amazing voice”, he continued, making Frank glare at him in a way that surely he could feel in his bones. But whether or not he did, he still wasn’t done. ”I’m sure it’s as beautiful as the rest of you”, Matt went on with a knowing smirk on his face. Heat crawled to your cheeks and you didn’t really know what to say — Frank, however, had had about enough.

”Alright, quit it, Red. It ain’t your job to make her feel special”, he warned him, zero amusement in his stare as he chomped down some more pasta, perfectly balancing his meal with the mean look in his eyes. He knew you could handle yourself, and with any other guy, he would have let you do just that, but Matt was a different story. He got under Frank’s skin far too easily, sometimes probably on purpose, and he wasn’t going to entertain his little attempts to charm you.

”I’m just saying, Frank’s a very lucky guy to be with you”, he spoke once more, and at that, your boyfriend finally snapped.

”Fuckin’ hell, Red. That’s it. Finish the food and get the fuck out, yeah?” he declared curtly, not taking no for an answer. ”Goddamn, I went out of my way to invite you and you pull this shit…”, he muttered to himself, poking at the food with his fork angrily.

You couldn’t help but smile carefully, touched that Frank was so serious about you, even if you had been seconds away from telling Matt to take it easy and back off. Frank had nothing to worry about, but you still loved seeing how protective he was of you.

The rest of the meal went by in awkward silence, but Matt made sure to thank you once more before leaving. He made so with haste, not wanting to stick around for any longer than necessary in case Frank would punch him out of the door, and you didn’t blame him. The tension in the room was immensely obvious and as soon as Matt had left, you gravitated over to Frank who was scrubbing the dishes with vicious force.

”Think you scared him off for good”, you mentioned, and with a snort, Frank shrugged.

”Good. Teaches him not to flirt with my girl”, he scoffed, putting an amused smile on your face. You stood on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek, which threatened to break his solemn expression.

”You’re cute when you get all jealous”, you noted, and finally, Frank looked over to you, his face telling you that he didn’t like being called jealous. In fact, he didn’t like acting jealous, either, but it seemed Matt brought out the worst in him.

Instead of protesting, Frank returned to another topic. ”Really surprised me with that voice of yours, darlin’. How come I ain’t ever hear you sing like that?” he wondered, dropping the dish brush in the sink and placing both hands on your hips. He pulled you in closer, his tall frame looming over you and his dark eyes full of curiosity and affection for you — clearly, you had managed to burst the angry bubble around him.

You grew shy and shrugged. ”I dunno. It’s just a random thing I do, I guess. I usually do it when I’m cooking or cleaning and most times that happens when I’m home alone”, you explained, and with an understanding nod, Frank reached to brush your hair away from your face.

”I think it’s fuckin’ incredible. You’re amazin’ at everythin’ you do, sweetheart. Would love it if you sang more, y’know? I gotta hear it”, he pointed out, a tender smile touching upon his lips as he looked at you.

”Okay”, you whispered, ”thank you, Frank.” You had been a little embarrassed to be caught singing at first, but hearing Frank say all those things brought your walls down, and it certainly meant a lot more coming from him rather than from Matt.

”Attagirl”, he kissed the top of your head, ”and I ain’t lettin’ that asshole Red hear it again.”

#frank castle #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle x reader #the punisher #the punisher x reader

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crisiscutie · 1 year ago

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G'day,

First off I just want to say that I love your blog and how you get into psychology of Sephiroth and when I read HoS or fluffy Sephiroth AU it is like I am a fly on their wall and it is bloody awsome ! I would like to ask about the darlings milk supply for HoS and fluffy Sephy, we all know that C.C-. and R7 Sephy has a dependence on the darlings milk but when they feed, especially C.C, do they suck her dry or can she reel them in before that happens and do they demand milk everyday ? Because being a lactating mum is hard work especially with two grown male appetites to deal with. As for fluffy Sephy does he restrain himself ? Can I also ask how all of the Sephys that require the darlings milk like to have it, directly from the breast or will a bottle do ? Sorry if this is a long ask but your Sephology is so good 😁.

Thank you.

Thank you for the kind words. Always happy to hear em~ and yes, let's get right into the milky goodness.

Content Warnings: NSFW. Nursing/Milk Kink. Mommy Kink. HoS and Domestic AU LORE post.

༻❁༺ HoS: The Darling and her milk supply

I would say near the beginning of HoS, she has an average amount of milk produced for an expectant mother, but a problem remains that C.C. would drain her of her milk. His milk obsession began when he wanted to relieve the pain from her swollen breasts during a cuddle session in the early days of HoS. He never intended to develop a craving for his mommy darling's breast milk, but the experience and exhilaration he felt from drinking it made it irresistible. Why did he like it so much? Her milk, due to the Jenova Cells in her breasts, has a distinct flavor and scent, along with additional nutrients that surpass those of typical human milk. It also gave credence to C.C's insistence to call her "Mother," given that Jenova Cells are known to scramble memories and emotions. Additionally, the darling's Jenova Cells possess a unique mutation that also amplifies her breast milk.

C.C's need for breast milk had become so intense that he would become agitated or even vicious if he didn't receive it in a timely manner. C.C. was not interested in any food other than breast milk, and it was a slow process to introduce him to other options.

Frustrated with C.C. constantly draining her milk, OG Sephy created "enhancements" that would result in a significant increase in her milk production. But now, the darling's milk oversupply has become a persistent problem even when she's not pregnant, causing discomfort and inconvenience. C.C. is essential to making sure she is relieved... 7R always had a tiny milk kink but did not actively start engaging in it until the Sephy hive mind was fairly developed. As Darling continued to observe the Sephiroths, she began to notice how they mirrored each other's actions and behavior, almost as if they were part of a single entity, more and more. She developed a theory about this, calling it the "Echo Theory".

༻❁༺ What is the Echo Theory?

The Echo Theory is a spin-off of the Reunion Theory, under different circumstances. This theory describes a scenario where the "Reunion" was delayed due to the Sephiroths' conflicting wills, each one struggling to become the dominant force of Jenova (and the Darling). With time, they become more tolerant of each other, the more they are around each other. As a result: Their traits begin to overlap. Their specific goals and desires overlap. Such as 7R actively engaging in his milk kink because of C.C. or C.C. desiring to breed the darling constantly like OG Sephy or AC Sephy becoming more patient and observant of his plans like Dissidia Sephy.

Short trends may occur when one Sephiroth has a strong influence over the others. If so, the echoes will intensify. The echoes intensity can also lead to the Sephiroths to act as one in a hivemind, which is what happened one time they came together to fuck the darling in the garden.

The theory has some holes, however: The darling cannot figure out what it takes for one Sephiroth to have a powerful influence over others temporarily. And she doesn't know what triggers the rare hivemind actions of the Sephiroths. And she cannot figure out if Jenova herself is favoring any of the Sephiroths.

The Echo Theory's middle stage is shrouded in mystery, but Darling believes it's the End Stage that poses the greatest threat - the emergence of a single, supreme Sephiroth. It's horrifying for her to think about, as she loves them all equally, in their ways. They may hate each other and fight a lot, but they had times of harmony... Only time will tell if her theory turns out to be wrong...

༻❁❁༺ C.C. and 7R Milk Feeding Habits

They can be both aggressive and gentle, depending on their mood. As the darling tapped into her maternal side, C.C. became less aggressive toward the darling over time. They originally drained her, but she reeled them in, more and more... The weekly consumption of milk is crucial for C.C, while 7R can manage without it for more extended periods.

C.C. also never drinks from the bottles. The milk directly from the darling's breasts is what he craves, seeking both the intimacy and flesh felt with his luscious lips. 7R would prefer it from her tits as well, but bottles will do.

༻❁❁༺ Fluffy Sephiroth's Milk Kink and His Domestic Darling.

It all started when reading his maternity books in his attempt to support the domestic darling better. He was ashamed of his kink at first and kept it hidden from her. She had to tease him about it, to get him to admit. I wrote a story about this in detail here.

With his darling's encouragement, he gradually became more comfortable drinking her milk and now has a strong preference for drinking from her breasts. Like her HoS counterpart, the Domestic Darling also has Jenova Cells in her breasts that deepen the connection between her and Sephiroth each time he drinks from her breasts.

Sephiroth occasionally has dark thoughts of pinning the darling down and draining her milk-filled tits. It's hard for him to hold back and he often excuses himself from the darling to keep the feral thoughts at bay. He always regrets these dark thoughts....

And due to his fear of going overboard and not wanting to deprive his unborn children of food, he doesn't suckle the darling's tits as much, as his darling has a moderate but limited milk supply.

#sephiroth #ff7 sephiroth #final fantasy 7 #c.c rambles #ff7 #house of sephiroth au #yandere sephiroth #crisis cutie #sephiroth x reader #final fantasy x reader #fluffy sephiroth #domestic headcanons #domestic au #final fantasy vii #Sephology 101

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silverstagspirit · 1 year ago

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I have read the Yuu the scientific phenomenon, and I'm not sure if I send the ask, because I have memory problems.

But the idea of some of like dangerous food being commonly eaten, and Yuu not eating because it contains a lot more poison. Also, funfact bamboos can be poison especially bamboo shoots, that's why some people have to cook it, aka boil the poison out of it (atleast based on YT Shorts of Vietnamese person living in Germany). Because I wonder what food are poison in Twisted but isn't at out world (aka the grandillas), and what food that are like delicacies but Yuu will straight up die, if they eat it.

Also, you know that there is a place in our world where the gravity is a bit funky. Like really funky.

Tho, I know that Twisted have chilli's, but have they ever have the straight up fucked up chilli's that by just looking makes you cry (exaggerating ik). But Yuu just eating it being yummy and borderline calling the fire department, and going to the bathroom.

Speaking of bathroom, lactose intolerance, depending on where Yuu lives, they might have better lactose tolerance or worse. So Yuu going to bathroom, is just pain.

Also, what about peeps who have genetic mutation where cilantro taste bitter or like soap.

The lactose intolerant part has already been discussed on the biology tag.

But the Cilantro thing jogged a memory from my past. If you'd like to hear it, here it is:

That's the end of the story

We had a vegetable garden that was made in raised, wooden beds. My Dad had made these troughs with his own carpentry skills. And one time, we had grown Cilantro in it. During that time, though, a large rainstorm hit, and the raised bed's flooring collapsed. Me and my brother and I had to go out and save the plants from being washed away. But when I got to the Cilantro, I was hit with literally one of the worst smells in my entire life. It was so strong. And at the time, I didn't know what was causing it. I was being handed the uprooted Cilantro plants to put in a bucket. But I noticed that some of the plants had a transparent slime at their roots. And I realized the smell was coming from them. (The smell was actually so bad that I had to step away and take a few breaths every couple of seconds) If I had to describe the smell, it would be: if a bag of chlorine got together with decaying plant matter. After that whole dilemma, maybe some time later or right afterward with the same plants, my mom made butterchicken. She put in the cut-up Cilantro with the chicken, and I ate it. Let's just say I did not like it, then proceeded to spend the next fifteen minutes picking all of the Cilantro out of my bowl.

As for the other bits:

The funky gravity part had me thinking about something I heard in science fiction. That, if humans were to live on Mars, they would become super tall and have very pale skin. Imagine a Yuu that lives on an Earth that has already made it to Mars and has people living there. And they're just another country to us.

The boys coming to Earth and passing by someone who had immigrated to Earth from Mars:

"So the next stop is that way. We better get moving if we want to—"

"Waaaarrghh?!?!?!"

"Huh?! What?! What is it?"

"There's some giant person over there!" *points at a Martian in the market.*

"That's rude, Ace! They're just getting fruit from the stalls."

"Prefect, didn't you say that there were only humans in this world?"

"They are a human, they're just a Martian."

"Martian?"

"People here have colonized the planet next door, and when you stay on that planet, you grow taller and become paler due to the lower gravity and staying in sealed buildings."

"So yer' sayin' that I can grow taller just by chilling in a certain place?!"

"Not necessarily, but you will grow taller if you live on Mars long enough."

"Mars?"

"That's the 'planet next door' that I mentioned earlier."

"Oh."

#twst #twisted wonderland #biology au #answering asks

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azurechicken · 1 year ago

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It's Fenders kinda day and I'm just so emotional like how they would understand, how they would accept if only they have met under different circumstances it kills me slowly please,,, The way they are not only two sides of the same coin (as it is always said about them), they are also reflections of the extremes of a scale? Fenris comes from a place where mages have reached the top of the food chain, they are the highest rank of the society. And the Circle and its principles, especially on tranquility, are the bottom of a mage's potential where you waste away without a choice unless you want to be hunted for sport. Then there is slavery and blood magic and all the experiments that show just the worst example of a mage and what they can do in power, whereas Circle contains mages like Spirit Healers who go out of their way to help people as best they can even within the treatment they get. From a perspective of a former slave of a magister, any kind of freedom for a mage is a nightmare. But from a perspective of a freedom seeking mage, it is an ideal to have mages with freedom to do whatever they want. With all the extremes on their views taken into account they just collide so beautifully. They share so many similarities they are too stubborn to understand each other about, it's just that Fenris hasn't hardened enough to reach acceptance on mages and Anders has so much more going on in his fight for so many people and doesn't have the patience for another mage hater. Despite all that there is also the fact that Anders doesn't exactly want what magisters are doing either, he wants at least a middle ground where mages are supervised at best but not prisoned and treated like trash and Fenris is growing to accept that not everyone with magic is the same (I'm considering mage!Hawke here). They do have the compromise in front of them to understand each other and grow together. But its just such a bad time and such bad conditions for them to meet for that to happen. Because Kirkwall supports these extremes so much. There is so many disturbing things that mages have to go through for things they aren't even responsible for most of the time and that fuels Anders each day. How can he tolerate hearing any kind of implication that mages should be imprisoned when it happens every day? And what must Fenris feel but justified on his views seeing all the blood mages go batshit crazy on them regularly? Even if they could understand, they can't get past all that is Kirkwall. Everything that happens just pushes them away from each other. If only they met after they've grown from their fear-powered anger in a place that wasn't so full of the negatives of what they feared the most. If only Bioware actually gave them the growth they deserved from each other instead of making them look like assholes who are insensitive to anyone's cause but their own? I'm trying so hard to not make this about how some things were written once again but... Look, I just want these glowing men to fight injustice together both for slaves and mages because they would and they should and Justice would one hundred percent support this.

#take this as a friendship or relationship idec how they choose to go about this #and no i dont mean that they would suddenly get better and accept each other's beliefs wholeheartedly thats just unrealistic #i just know they would be good for each other in their growth #sigh #canon cannot stop me from thinking of them travelling together with hawke against injustice #its my weirdo with a blood mark on her face + her glowing bastards against the world #merrill supports me by existing so that these shitheads can be mean to her for no reason and agree for once #y'know?#dragon age #anders #fenris #fenders #me own

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sofarfarout · 1 year ago

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Hassel drawing and some headcanons

I saw someone headcanon him as German and another person go with Dutch and ngl pretty based

Hassel Van de Walle

-54, gay, cis man

-Dutch or rather from some yet unknown Netherlands inspired region, accent is especially noticeable with strong emotions, sometimes grandpa gets so overwhelmed he starts blubbering in Dutch

-tall with a thick, sturdy build, strong upper body softened by age, comfort and lots of love, long dancer's legs, hairy arms, legs and chest, looks a little top heavy

-comfortable in his skin, was a little embarrassed when he first noticed his sweater vest fitting a little more snugly but he's come to accept it, nothing wrong with being a little chubby

-Pokemon are named after famous painters, Bosch the Baxcalibur, Martin the Dragonite, Grünewald the Haxorus, Claudel the Noivern and Abel the Dragalge, except for Flapple who is named Schatje, the little treasure from his little treasure

-a little hard of hearing from all the loud music as a younger man, please remember to speak up for Mr. Hassel! (that means you Larry)

-open to all kinds of music but especially likes symphonic metal and neoclassical, a student introduced him to bardcore and he is a big fan

-family is pretty well off and he didn't exactly go wanting, he had a sturdy roof over his head, warm clothes on his back and good food in his belly but his emotional needs were consistently neglected, was expected to suck it up and behave like a little adult, his father refused to deal with him if he was crying

-gives god tier hugs, Ol' Hass is a big hot water bottle of a man and he's got no problem giving students a big bear hug should they want one

-pretty good singer, a warm, strong baritone that you really feel in your chest

-favorite color is apple green, reminds him of all the good things in life and comforts him

-likes dramatic films that really make you feel, has a special fondness for animated films, some favorites would include Grave of the Fireflies, The Illusionist and Fantasia

-favorite places to be touched are his shoulders, back and hands, hand kisses make the old man melt

-just likes physical contact in general, except for his cheeks, father would roughly grab a young Hassel's face when lecturing him and he'd rather not have that

-ticklish on his sides, his neck and around his belly button

-early bird, doesn't like sleeping in, thinks mornings are especially beautiful and would hate to sleep through it

-sleeps in comfy pants or just his underwear if it's hot, his favorite pajamas have sleeping Frigibax on them, boxer briefs king, sleeps on his belly or kinda half on his belly half on his side

-light sleeper, snores a little and talks in his sleep

-smells like a mix of clay, old books, Home Depot and charcoal

-favorite food is apple crumb pie, sweet, comforting and full of love, not the sort of thing he'd often have growing up

-likes snacking when he's working on something, will absentmindedly eat a whole thing of strawberries or a bag of chips while drawing, prone to stress eating too

-can't tolerate spicy food at all, prefers a mix of sweet and savory

-used to dread holidays but since cutting his family out, he's come to appreciate them, still not terribly fond of Christmas but the mushy lovey dovey old man likes Valentine's Day

-wanted a Dragonite tattoo as a young man but never went through with it, has grown out of it

-various faded scars all over his body, most notable ones are a bite/burn from a Hydreigon's Fire Fang on his right bicep, a sizeable cut on his right calf from falling out of a tree as a boy and a small one on his left forearm from Professor Gible getting too rowdy, part of him still gets a little bit nervous around Hydreigon

-prefers autumn weather, perfect for walks and hot cocoa and not too chilly

-those trashy white woman romance novels at the grocery store are a guilty pleasure of his

#pokemon #pokemon hassel #i believe in chubby Hassel supremacy #let peepaw have a belly

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desertdragon · 9 months ago

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Moving this old shit here because I don't know what to do with it but there's no point keeping it on the carrd

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

Despises Ishgard & its Noble Houses and is a self proclaimed open enemy of the state. Despises Monarchies, Empires & Monetarists.

Since becoming a partial Primal her body craves more food and her already generous appetite has expanded. Including cannibalism when in desperate hunger without other options.

Can eat and sleep almost anything (including rotted or raw things within a reasonable limit without getting sick) anywhere; she picked up these skills from a lifetime being on the move in hunting or adventuring.

Remembers the pain of each time she has died.

She has almost no issue being seen naked or topless

Is really a big softie looking to be treated with compassion and basic kindness; despite her roughness she'll get emotional easily especially if someone does something nice or notices her habits/needs since she's used to never being acknowledged as a person. Reminders of her humanity and respecting her space makes her automatically like someone.

Is mentally ill with PTSD and Severe Anxiety, recognizing and respecting how she wants her triggers to be handled is also important to her in a person.

Repeated trauma has rendered her as appearing aloof and expressionless/monotone including a more monotone dominated voice due to PTSD. Though she may look and sound detached, outside of disassociative episodes she is full of emotion and passion, even if expressing it is stunted due to her illness and being raised in a society where emotional expression was tightly regulated.

She has learned to adapt to Eorzean etiquette outside of her birthplace and is only decent at Ishgardian and Doman customs.

She is a fast learner but is prone to forgetfulness or remembering out of order due to PTSD impacting her ability to recall new/newer information not used daily/critically.

She has a very silly and at times immature sense of humor; she's not above embarrassing herself too to entertain kids. It helps her cheer them up faster and she's protective of all children in general. If she sees a kid looking sad she's quick to try engaging them no matter how awkwardly.

Having grown up in the sweltering heat of the Sagolii Desert she does well in hot weather and can tolerate extreme temperatures longer than those not accustomed; however vice versa she is awful at tolerating extreme cold or even winter itself on some days

Because of her isolated upbringing that recognized the sovereignty of no nations, she does not consider herself truly Eorzean but rather a U Tribe member first as she was never raised to behave according to the typical Eorzean city state identity, language, or general customs.

She is a Captain of Limsa Lominsa's Maelstrom Grand Company, after the Scions forced her to take up formal military service; all Maelstrom soldiers address her as Captain Valescoere

More practical/survival skills and emotionally intelligent than book smart.

Favorite color is orange.

Favorite food is Sour Pork Belly Stew.

Favorite dessert is Pudding.

Is knowledgeable on pressure points and their bodily functions.

A cult has sprung around her calling themselves 'Messiah's Shadow' which she is unaware of. They believe she is the physical incarnation of Hydaelyn's wrath as the Crystal Mother, and that she will destroy all the world's evils to liberate humanity from its ignorance into higher lifeforms. She is worshiped as a god in their eyes, second only to Hydaelyn and above the Twelve pantheon. When she does hear rumors of them she is disgusted.

#hc

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perpetuelledaydreaming · 3 years ago

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Hiyaaa✨ R u accepting requests? I loev love love your writing so much!! If you are, I would like to request a Billy H imagine if that’s okay? The is latin and that has never bothered her in Indiana, people have called her mean names but never in school. She and billy are dating and Carol is obnoxious all the time but one day takes it too far by calling her a racial slur or like something that really insults her and is way out of line. Everyone notices and reader just fights it out, Billy tries to hold her back and you can decide whatever else! Hope it’s okay and hope you are taking requests!! Have a good day✨

so this request has been on my inbox forever and I wanted to thank the person who sent it because it has been one of my favorite works.

***

MALA SANTA

billy hargrove masterlist

words: 5.8k

summary: Billy is the best nurse someone could ask for and instead of telling him that violence is not the answer you should give him some classes. Honestly, he’s just surprised that you are as unhinged as he is, oh and racism is not tolerated here.

warnings: violence? but like deserved violence? although violence is never the answer. Oh and slurs.

“Go fuck yourself”, you spat as you finally turned to your left, arriving at your street in Hawkins, Indiana.

You spun quickly on your heels, hearing the laughs of the boys that had been harassing you for about five minutes getting farther and farther while they drove carelessly. You huffed and cursed them mentally as you walked through the nicest neighborhood that Hawkins had, silence settling in as you walked towards your house while you listened to your Walkman, you hadn’t really gotten used to the silence of the neighborhood, it seemed so far from what you usually knew.

It had been a couple of months since you had arrived in The States, yes, the United States, not America as many of the people liked to call it.

Your mom had decided to move to USA after there had been a great job offer for her over there and she didn’t even have to think about it. Your mom, your sister and you were the tightest family you knew, especially since you moved a lot because of her job. You were originally from Colombia but throughout your life, you had lived in Peru, Chile, Argentina, Uruguay, and even a few couples of months in Spain (which wasn’t Latin America, but the culture was rather similar)

And you loved it.

The rest of your extended family lived in Peru and Colombia, so you came back there always. Plus, you had friends all over the Latin countries, who still wrote to you and you manage to sneak a few calls everyone in a while to update them on your life, although letters were the main form of communication for you since international calls were rather expensive.

It was simple, the culture that you had grown up with was something else. The warmth of the people, the food, the laughs, the dances, the traditions, the parties. It was something that you were proud of, not many people were proud of being from Latin America and you sometimes you weren’t proud either with what was happening in your country at the moment, but there was so much more that people didn’t know about it, more than the problems.

But an opportunity was an opportunity, traveling was traveling, and your mom decided to take it.

After a couple of flights from Bogotá, to Miami, to Chicago, and then a car drive to Hawkins, you landed in a pretty big and spacious house in one of Hawkins’s most exclusive neighborhoods. It had been a whole shift in your life, you remember watching movies about High School here, “Pretty in Pink” or “Ferris Bueller” and it was nothing like you had known before. The environment was similar to what you usually watched in movies, but the bullying was bad. People in Colombia could be mean, but usually studying in an all-girls catholic school throughout your life didn’t mean a lot of hardcore bullying. On the contrary, there was pettiness, a general phenomenon of body dysmorphia (which sucked), and which girl was the one that knew the guys from the all-boys schools but other than that, it felt like there was somehow a sisterhood when you got older, which you appreciated.

Nonetheless, you had never seen the bullying as you had seen in Hawkins, the pettiness of catholic all-girls schools could never reach what you had seen over there, especially when it came to racism. You were fortunate, you hadn’t experienced any racism in your life but then you arrived at Hawkins.

“Can you call Pablo Escobar?” “I love me some narco chick” “Can you go clean up my house?” “You don’t understand me?” “Want me to talk slower?” “Go back to your country! Beaner!” “how much to sleep with the spicy Latina?” “do you actually live-in houses? Not the jungle?”

Things that you hadn’t even imagined.

You had tried to ignore them, to not let them upset you since part of you knew that it wasn’t worth it and that they were just ignorant and you wouldn’t want to waste a second with them. Another part of you knew that it was better for Billy’s sake.

When you came to Hawkins, you didn’t expect to fall in love with a small-town boy, not that Billy was since he came from California, but at the moment he fitted the stereotype. Your goal was to graduate, go to college in New York or in Europe, travel, meet new people, open-minded people, someone open-minded that liked to travel and learn like you.

But then, Billy crashed into your life and there was no going back.

Billy had seen you the first day you arrived at school as you climbed down from your car with your sister and he wasn’t able to take his eyes off from you. He had followed you relentlessly throughout the day, trying to introduce himself and see if he could get you to accept a date with his charms but you knew better. You were cautious and you simply spoke what you thought was necessary, your thoughts weren’t on dating but on getting out of school with good grades and a ticket to somewhere else. Billy wasn’t the type to get rejected or cut short by a girl, but there was something about you that simply enticed him, maybe the accent or the way you laughed in the hallways, or how you would be the first one to raise your hand if the teacher asked you something or when you would call out someone for shitty behavior, you seemed so different and there was warmth inside of you, a warmth that he didn’t know before and that made him feel safe. Therefore, Billy didn’t give up, he tried the next day, and the next week every day and he kept it up for a while until one day he walked into the school with a bouquet of flowers -something that everyone knew was unusual for him- and actually had asked you out in his Spanish, which wasn’t great but you had seen the effort he put into it. That night you went out with him to dinner and then drove around Hawkins listening to music, you showed him Miguel Bosé and he almost crashed when you started singing the soft songs in Spanish and at the end of the night, he asked for a kiss at the front of your door.

He seemed so genuine and small and kind after that whole night that you basically pulled him by the collar of his shirt and crashed your lips against him.

After that, there wasn’t much to do. Billy was unconditionally in love with you and you were in love with him. And the relationship went smoother than something ever could, Billy never indulged in the spicy Latina stereotype, he tried to be the perfect boy in front of your mother and your sister, who accepted him fully and treated him like part of the family. Although it was harder for his family, Max and Susan loved you instantly and loved how smart you were, Billy’s dad was apprehensive at first, especially with the different stereotypes he had in mind about Latin people but he seemed relieved when he knew that you were first of the class. Your relationship was everything that you had imagined in movies and more, none of your ex-boyfriends could compare to how lovely and caring Billy was with you, how much attention he put into everything regarding you, how he helped you every time you needed, how he would praise you on how smart you were and how such a good girl you were when he had you in bed, he was loving and perfect and both of you were happy.

But you still felt the annoyance at your relationship, most of the girls and even some boys at school felt like you had tamed the bad boy that everyone wanted or wanted to be. For boys, it was almost a homoerotic behavior that guys wanted to hook up with you almost to prove their buddies something, but when realized that you were confident and that you had Billy as a boyfriend, they felt insecure, and then they would start treating you like shit. For girls, it was mostly because everyone wanted to hook up with Billy and only a few had the chance, they fawned over him, and seeing him with someone new and for a real relationship made them jealous. You had become Queen of Hawkins without even trying and it anger some, especially Carol, Tina, and Tommy.

But you tried not to mind them, avoiding hanging with them while you were at school or parties, and making your own group of friends, including Steve Harrington who was one of your neighbors.

Nonetheless, the harassment and racism grew with time to the point that the confidence and strength that you had started to waver a little bit.

“What’s on your mind, baby?”

Billy’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts as you turned on your bed to face him. Billy liked to climbed into your bedroom at night, although your mom loved Billy and didn’t see anything wrong with his unbuttoned shirts, having your boyfriend sleep in your bed wasn’t very “de una niña bien”. So he usually sneaked in around eleven and go out at four in the morning back to his place, he didn’t mind that he didn’t get much sleep, it was worth it to feel you around while he wrapped you in his arms.

“Have you heard anything about me?” you asked Billy softly as you turned to face him, you almost felt like crying when you saw how pretty his electric blue eyes look with the light of the moon.

Billy frowned as he heard you. “Like what?”

You sighed, knowing that there was no way that Billy would remain peaceful if he knew how people were treating you at school and you preferred that, you preferred to be bullied rather than have Billy punching someone’s teeth out.

You’d been working with Billy to change his aggressive side; you had told him about your father and that you had sworn to yourself to never be like him or end up with someone violent or aggressive. You’d learned from your country that if you didn’t remember your story, you were condemned to repeat it. So, Billy promised to be better and he had, he had stopped being aggressive and violent with other guys at school, he never got into fights now, only to stop them. You were so proud of him and happy that he had made the changes, instead, he started channeling the anger into talking to Hopper, who had taken him in after a little incident he had at a party and after a little bit of convincing from you. He had made so much progress as he learned to handle his feelings, he seemed to be getting better and you’d become jealous at some point even because of how well he could let it out in a normal way while you still had a habit of being quiet with things and keeping them to yourself.

Like you were doing right at the moment.

“Nothing,” you shuddered as you looked down at Billy’s necklace and played with it against his naked chest.

“What happened?” Billy said standing up on his elbow while watching you intently, you could feel the concern in his eyes but you shushed him, and pulled him back to bed, giving him a soft peck on the lips. He melted at your touch with a sigh.

“I’m okay, I swear.” you lied between kisses while you smile as Billy deepened the kiss. Billy was always so rough with everyone but you, he was always so soft with you and loving, that you sometimes felt like your heart was going to burst out of your chest. He started to hover over you and you could feel the jolt of anticipation running through your spine when he chuckled for himself as he saw your shinny eyes with the light of the moon.

But he stopped for a moment, nudging his nose against yours.

“Are you sure that you are okay?” Billy asked one more time as he settled between your legs and locked his gaze with yours.

You knew that it would come out eventually and that you would have to tell him what had been happening at school but right now you didn’t want to ruin the moment or how well he had been doing with his past trauma. People picking you didn’t seem worthy enough reason to bother Billy, plus you hated to be a damsel in distress. You believed you were the opposite.

“Yeah,” you lied once more and connected your lips to him with a smile, he tasted like vanilla and root beer. “Now, if you’re thinking what I’m thinking, I’m going to need you to be very quiet”

Billy’s low chuckle against your lips almost made you whimper against him as you rolled your hips in anticipation. “I think that it’s a you problem baby, not mine, I’m just trying to do my work right,” he said as his eyes shined devilishly and he started to kiss his way down your body.

…

You were a little bit tired from the night before and the fact that Billy had woken you up in a hurry since your mom had decided to wake up at 5:00 a.m. and he hadn’t parked the Camaro in its usual spot, but rather close to your house which meant that your mom could see it and recognize it, and you knew that your mom -as accepting and open-minded she was- she had still had old-fashion quirks, such as: not sleeping with boys until you graduate. So, Billy naturally was in a hurry as he heard the steps on the hallway and had decided to bolt out of there as fast as he could. He had almost fallen on the floor as he put on his tight jeans and your heads had clashed as you tried to kiss him goodbye while he climbed down the window.

Therefore, you weren’t really in a good mood at the moment. You had tried to dress up nicely with a mini skirt with flower print and a tight sweater that revealed a bit of your abdomen, high knee socks and some converse had been the outfit. It was supposed to make you feel better and for a moment it did, but it didn’t shake off the tiredness that you were feeling or the anxiety that you had to run into your bullies again, or the way that you wished for a little release with Billy as soon as you could.

So, when you first got to school you had agreed with Billy to meet during lunchtime for a really needed make-out session in his Camaro and you were actually hoping for that. So, you tried to hurry as you quickly thanked Nancy for her notes and you made your way through the hallway to your locker, you were already late and you really needed Billy to take the edge off.

But then you heard the known nasally voice behind you.

“Hey y/n, what are you getting out of your locker?” Carol’s voice made all of the hair in your arm stand up but you tried not to mind as you tried to change books as fast as you possibly could to avoid her.

You decided not to answer, part of you understanding that to these kinds of people any attention is good attention, and none hurts them the most. It had been this way since the harassment had begun and today you didn’t need anything more on your plate.

But then you felt her hand on your shoulder and then her words hit you.

“Hey you little coke camel, I’m talking to you!” Carol screamed at you with a smug smirk drawn upon her face, laughing with Tina and Tommy behind her. A couple of kids in the back laughed too and some stared at the clear scene that she was making, but no one said anything.

And you saw red.

Before you knew it, you had slapped Carol as hard as you possibly could, she stumbled back from the sheer force of the slap and she placed both of her hands on the damaged cheek, it was red and you could tell that it might even bruise a little bit. Time seemed to slow down as everyone in the hallway stopped whatever they were doing to watch you and Carol intently, silence washing over the hallway while people were waiting for what would come next.

But you could only hear your breathing as you watched your hand and felt the tingly sensation on your palm from the slap, it was red as well from the force you had put on it. It somehow scared you how strong you had been and you were already thinking about how to say sorry and run to Billy’s car but before you knew it you felt a strong set of hands pushing you against the lockers.

Your body smashed against them and you hissed as you hit your back, probably knowing that it would bruise. You raised your head to see how Tommy was standing closer to you with a glare and how Carol took you by the shoulders and pushed you again against the lockers.

“Bitch!” she yelled at you, glaring deeply and red face. She looked crazy and even you flinched a bit but when you realized the situation that you were in, that this was past normal bullying and if you wanted to continue to be on top of the class, good girl with no problems you had to get out of there.

“Puta! ¡Fuck you!” you screamed at her and quickly pushed her away, making Carol fall on the floor, hard. Tommy and Tina went right then to help her as you closed your locker and grabbed your backpack, you knew that it would be better if you could simply leave now. You tried to give a step but before you knew it, someone pulled you from your backpack, making you almost fall but you turned around to see Carol, her dilated nostrils, heavy breathing, red face -almost as red as her hair- and almost bruised cheek.

“You fucking bitch! I’m going to send you back to fucking Mexico,” she screamed at you once more as she tried to push you to the floor but you didn’t budge.

It felt as if something had snapped in your mind. It seemed like the fear of getting in trouble washed away and you remember how in your family, you were always taught to stand in your ground, to not be afraid.

“I’m from fucking Colombia, ignorant slut and I would love to see you try,” you yelled back, and before Carol would react you had pushed her to the floor again and started to fight her.

Billy was, to put it as simply as possible, annoying as hell. He hadn’t slept much and almost fell down the second floor of your house when he was trying to sneak out, he almost missed first period since he didn’t hear the alarm and at the moment, he was craving you. He had managed to steal you for a minute as you changed classes, caging you between his arms against the lockers, he stole a kiss from you that left him breathless and both of you agree to meet in the parking lot at lunch. Billy was sure you said 12:15 pm on the Camaro but you were nowhere to be found and he was getting desperate with every second that passed.

And then, Billy saw Steve Harrington running towards him like a crazy man through the parking lot, people kept staring at Steve and how disheveled he was. Billy wasn’t a fan of Harrington but he knew that Steve was one of your closest friends, so when he saw the face of desperation on his face, Billy walked to meet him as close as he could.

“It’s y/n,” Steve breathed out, as he took Billy by the arms and started pulling him towards the school. “She’s…” Steve continued but had to stop to catch a breath. Billy was getting a little bit desperate so he shook Steve’s handoff.

“She? What Harrington, come on” Billy growled at Steve, he felt his heart going a mile per hour as well as his mind. Were you hurt? Have you failed a test? Did you faint because you didn’t have breakfast? Was a guy hitting on you? Billy tried to imagine any possible scenario that could cross his mind, not that he was right.

“She’s going at it; she has Carol on the floor,” Steve finally breathed out and Billy spun on his heels and started to run to the school.

Billy didn’t even know he could run as fast as he had done with those tight jeans. But as soon as he heard what Steve had said, he was more than worried. He knew that Carol wasn’t new to fights, Billy could see how her chest puffed out when she told stories about how she had kicked a girl’s ass when she had tried to flirt with Tommy and Billy, with how much effort you had put onto him being better and your story, thought that you weren’t ready to face Carol.

But as he pushed his way through the crowd that had gathered around you and Carol, and when he saw you, he realized that you weren’t exactly the one in trouble. In all honesty, Billy wanted to say that he was in shock when his eyes fell on the scene in front of him, he wanted even to say that he was a little bit turned on by what he was seeing but mostly he was scared and somehow pleasantly surprised by you.

Carol was down on the floor being pinned down by you as she screamed obscenities while people that surrounded you were chanting and screaming for someone to win. You were honestly hoping for her to get scared but she wasn’t backing off, even after you had tried to leave the fight multiple times. She had managed to scratch your arms and back, and even tried to scratch your face with her long nails, you were pretty sure she had scratched your cheek and you were bleeding a bit but after that, it seemed to be game over for her. You had effectively managed to keep her down, even kicking her in the stomach when she was trying to hover over you. Then a blow or two to her face, as you tried to make her feel a little bit groggy which would be enough for her to stop but she didn’t seem to give up as she tried to snatch your hair to pull you down. Therefore, when Billy found you, you had Carol pinned down, your white converse over one of her wrists while you were trying to control her other arm and pinned it down with your other knee. You finally managed to do it, while she was preparing to spit at you but before she could do it, you threw another punch that this time drew out blood from her nose and then you felt a tight grip on your waist and it lifted you quickly.

You felt confused as you fought against the tight hold on your waist, you thought it might’ve been a teacher but it was way too strong, your mind immediately went to Tommy who was there watching, panic invaded you as you screamed and tried to pull the arm away.

“Let go!” you shrieked and they finally let go and then you turned around. Those electric blue eyes were watching you in a way you’d never seen before. You felt your stomach turning inside of you and the guilt on your shoulders felt like too much, you wanted to run away or hide from Billy. You face down and then you watched your hands, they were covered in scratches and your knuckles were blody, they were already getting purple.

This was the last thing you wanted Billy to see you in, you’d been preaching to him about self-control and how rage and violence were not the answer but there you were, punching another girl square in the face in the middle of the school. Either way, Billy didn’t give you much time to react either. He quickly took a hold of your body and without much effort, he threw you over his shoulder. You squealed at the movement but felt a little bit at peace as Billy’s cologne surrounded you and held you by your legs.

People started to shout “boo” towards Billy and you as you left the circle, Billy quickly took your backpack and walked away. But as he turned, you could see Carol on the floor crying as Tommy and Tina started to help her. She was clearly in shock as she tried to avoid that the blood coming from her nose would taint her pink clothes, her face was in the worst shape with a couple of bruises and cuts, part of you thought that it was enough and another part of you thought that she deserved a reminder.

“Call me another fucking racial slur again and I’ll send you to the hospital, perra,” you shouted towards her while pointing your middle finger at the crowd, some cheered but you could feel Billy shaking his head against your legs.

Billy took you out of the school as quickly as he could towards the Camaro. You wished you could say something as he carried you but you felt so exhausted from the adrenaline that had been rushing through your body that you decided to stay silent as Billy finally placed you on the front seat of the Camaro and then closed the door as he turned and then entered the car on the driver seat. Silence washed over you, you felt like you weren’t able to look at Billy, but you shyly turned to him when you felt his piercing gaze on you.

When your gazes finally met, you couldn’t help it both of you burst into laughs, your stomach hurt as laughs filled the Camaro and you cover your face with embarrassment but you couldn’t keep the giggles down.

“I didn’t know you could fight!” Billy exclaimed between laughs as he watched you with wide eyes and a Cheshire cat smile.

You shook your head, feeling your cheeks getting read as you sated at his electric blue eyes. “Yeah, grow up with a little sister and a cousin who teaches you how to hit more effectively and that’s it,” you tried to say nonchalantly.

Suddenly the giggles started to die down as Billy’s gaze fell on your hands, only then as you followed his gaze did you realize that you were shaking. He quickly held them, lacing them with his bigger hands and you looked at him with almost tears in your eyes.

“I mean, you know that this isn’t the way right like you’ve told me that,” Billy muttered lovingly as you moved from your seat a bit and laid your head against his shoulder.

“Yeah. A million times,” you whispered back as you stared at the horizon, trying to brush off the guilt from your chest.

“So?” Billy asked but you didn’t answer. You stayed silent, you felt like you had no right of saying something about violence with Billy, not after what you had mentioned and you didn’t really want to get him upset with you about how you had been such a hypocrite. Billy understood and he simply laid one of his hands on your tight and then turned the Camaro on.

You didn’t listen to music on the way and you definitely didn’t say anything, you simply drove silently to Billy’s house as your mind started to run through what had happened and your body started to feel the whole deal that you had gone through. Your back started to ache and you were starting to feel the burning of the cut on your cheek and the scratches on most of your body.

When you arrived to Billy’s house you felt suddenly aware of your state, you must be disheveled and with bruises and blood all over your body. Billy turned off the Camaro and quickly got out, he opened the door for you and gave you his hand so you could walk out but you didn’t move.

“What about your dad?” you asked quietly, as you turned to Billy and stared at him intently but he simply shook his head.

“Out of town with Susan but I don’t know if Max’s in the house,” He answered softly and offered his hand one more time.

You finally gave in and took Billy’s hand as you walked out of the car and he closed the door behind you. You sighed as you stared at yourself in the windows of the Camaro, you were still bleeding a bit but now the blood on your hands had dried.

“Max is not going to say anything,” Billy said as he caught a glimpse of your expression on the window.

“It’s okay, I don’t care if she sees me like this,” you sighed as you walked towards the small house.

“I think she would love it,” Billy said as he closed the door behind you with a slight smirk, you walked into the house and automatically entered his bedroom as if you had been there all your life. You laid in Billy’s bed as you waited for him, he was in the bathroom searching for the first aid kit that Max and Susan had saved for him when he got into any fights with his father.

He entered the room swiftly after that and sat next to you on the bed as he opened the kit and started to get the alcohol and the bandages that he needed. He took your hand so softly that you almost wanted to cry, he was treating you as if you were made of glass and he lovingly started to heal you, it reminded you of the times that you had done it for him and you could understand how you ended up in bed after those.

Billy started meticulously putting some salve on your bruise knuckles while you remained silent as you watch him lovingly. You didn’t know if it was how he was taking care of you or just the fact that you were finally alone and you knew that even after what you had done Billy loved you without wavering.

“They’ve been calling me names,” you whispered to him and he raised his head with a frown.

“What?” Billy asked, his voice harsh and his brows bumped together.

“Your friends, out of the school,” you muttered as you tried to ignore the sting of the alcohol prep pad on a cut you hand on your wrist.

“They are not my friends,” Billy intervened sternly as he shook his head and continue to clean your cut.

“Well, these putos followers that chase you around all day have been calling me racists stuff,” you sighed in exasperation.

Billy stopped with the cleaning and he simply and delicately held your hand softly. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked seriously as he stared at you sternly.

“I just didn’t want to upset you and I don’t need you to fight my battles for me,” you answer back honestly, you’d never wanted to drag him into this even more after you had explained to him that he couldn’t or shouldn’t be violent.

“y/n, I’m your boyfriend. I’m here to help you in any way I can, always” he said, as he lifted your chin and gently dabbed at the cut on your cheek with a q-tip covered in salve. You stared at him contemplatively and you couldn’t help to feel how your heart beat faster with what he had said, always, ringed in your ear as you kept thinking of him and watching him taking care of you.

“Although you clearly don’t need any help,” he muttered with a devilish smile and you smiled back to him. He slowly dropped his hands from your face when he was done and you didn’t give him any time.

As soon as he tossed the used items in the trash can near his bed, you quickly attacked his lips with a hungry kiss, you wrapped your arms around his neck and Billy had no problem picking you up with his arms as you tangled your legs around his hip. You loved him, you truly loved him.

Billy leaned into you, his hands digging into your ass as you gasped and he nipped at your bottom lip. You couldn’t help yourself as you knotted your fingers in his curls and scrunched your shoulders up as you tried to get closer to him. Your lips were hot against his and puffy as you kissed him harder. He turned the two of you around and fell on the bed but as soon as you landed, you quickly pulled away as you felt the stinging from Carol’s scratches on your back.

“Ow,” you muttered.

“What?” Billy asked concerned as he examined your whole body as quickly as he could, he even placed his hands on your cheeks to see if he had made any damage to the patch-up cut on your cheek but you shook your head.

“I think she managed to scratch my back, she has long nails and it took me a second to immobilize her,” you grumbled as you sat up and placed yourself on Billy’s lap. It would take at least two days for you to feel comfortable again in any position that involved your back.

“Well I can’t relate with painful scratches since your nails are not that long but that mouth,” he said with a devilish smile as he sat up and started to snake his hands on your ass, “It really bites hard,” he growled lowly as he pushed your hips to grind on him and you had to bite down a moan.

“Ew, close the door,” Max’s voice snapped both of you from the moment as you turned around to the door where she was.

Suddenly, her scrunched-up nose and disgust on her eyes were replaced with widened eyes and her open mouth, clearly, she was surprised when she saw your injuries.

“Omg y/n, what the hell happened?” She asked as she dropped her bag in Billy's room and stood next to you as you climbed down Billy's lap and stood up before you gave her a small hug. “You look so cool,” She yelled with a laugh as she took a hold of your knuckles.

“She’s a badass,” Billy replied with a wink to you.

***

author's note: I'm, I just ... I'm obsessed with this one. Like I wrote this one like the first part about six months ago and decided to finish this week and I'm just like chefs kiss. I really hope you like it as much as I do.

please, as always, let me know if you liked this, your thoughts, etc. request are always open and any feedback is super appreciated!

thANK YOU!!

***

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its-deputy-caleb · 3 years ago

Note

If requests are still open, could I request a gender neutral teenage reader (around 16) who is a lord. They are the kindest and most passive of the lords but they are also the only lord that every other lord likes.

Heyy, so I loved writing these they were super adorable and i did it a little differently where there’s some general head cannons for everyone and then there’s also some for each specific character! Also the reader is 18 because I just think it’s easier for me to handle, I hope that’s okay. These are gender neutral so enjoy! and sorry for the delay!

General HC’s

Being the fifth Lord certainly didn’t mean that you were at the back of the group.

Although you were younger than most of the lords, having been the last to have the Cadou implanted, you were the favourite in the eyes of not just the other Lords but Mother Miranda adored you, even the villagers love you.

Unlike the rest of the Lords, who’s Cadou allowed them to harm and take life, your Cadou allowed you to grow greenery and plant life everywhere.

You had the ability to restore old forests, letting flowers grow from you palm and giving them to the children in the village.

Amongst the village, you’re by far the most beloved of the Lords. Each week you bring down foods that you’ve grown so that there’s food for everyone, using the roots of the trees to grow tall and protect them from Lycans that may want to enter at night.

Everyone can tell where you’ve been because you’ll leave a trail of grass under your feet with little flowers appearing when you walk with bare feet.

The village hosts a week long feast for you where all the Lords celebrate with you. There’s lots of gifts, dancing and offerings. It’s the only joyful time of the year and even the Lords who seem sour like Heisenberg, Alcina and even Miranda seem to tolerate each other to celebrate with you.

Your domain is surrounded by forests and streams which have all been restored, wildlife now dwelling amongst the canopy.

Your house is in the centre of it all, the heart of the forest in a large oak tree which is hollow and now where you call home.

You’re a literal ray of sunshine in this ever gloomy world and no matter who or what you encounter; they adore you instantly

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina certainly wasn’t happy that the newest Lord was befriending villagers and protecting them as they were her source of food, but that all came crumbling down when she got to know you.

You couldn’t explain it but your beautiful and bubbly energy transferred to people and everyone noticed that Alcina had become warmer towards everyone else.

She saw you as one of her daughters, so sweet and innocent that she felt that motherly instinct to protect you from all the bad in the world.

She loves to braid your hair, watching as flowers grow between the weaves as she pulls it back gently with her long fingers.

Alcina never complains when moss grows on the walls of her castle as she could never be mad at you. She just gets the maidens to clean it off later.

She hates that she often has to stay in the castle with her daughters so you make sure flowers are growing in all her vases and the courtyard is lit up with bright greens for her daughters to gaze out onto.

Everyone at the castle loves you, the maidens, her daughters and especially the Lady of the House as you instantly make the room brighter.

Donna Beneviento

Donna is in absolute awe of you.

She is always so excited to spend time with you and you make her feel loved and happier.

You’re like the younger sibling she never had and she can’t stop smiling when you visit her manor.

Sometimes when you come over for lunch or spend a lazy afternoon over at her house, you open your palm and let a little white flower grow from your palm. You always tuck it behind her ear with a strand of her hair and then grow a smaller one for Angie and place it on her veil.

Donna has a tendency to close herself off from people and often feels lonely but you’re the only one who makes her feel loved.

You show her parts of your forest, places she’s never explored and if she’s scared you simply hold her hand tightly in reassurance.

Once when you were walking through the path leading from your home a deer had stopped in front of you.

Donna was instantly scared of the creature having never seen one before but you gently took her over to it and got her to hold out her hand.

It smelt her hand, it’s doe eyes looking at her before it ran off again and she’d never felt happier since you were there the whole time with her.

She loved getting to explore the woodlands with you, bringing Angie along of course. She felt safe and comfortable with you and she trusted you enough to show her your world which she was captured by instantly.

You make her happy and always manage to lift her spirits up with your powers and you friendship.

Salvatore Moreau

Salvatore loves your powers so much. He’s captured by them immediately and is always so excited to see you grow new things.

He can’t believe that you’d ever want to spend time with him so you always try to cheer him up with homemade meals from things you’ve grown or gifts woven out of wood for him to decorate his home with.

You’ll never forget the way his eyes lit up when you used your powers to restore the windmill that had broken. Using tree branches to make the wind turbine and watching the walls grow green.

The reservoir is no longer gloomy like it used to be but instead there is life all around his land.

The snow melts away to reveal lush green fields which reflect the water beautifully and the petals of trees fall into the water, floating on the light.

He loves to see you and always gets giddy when you visit him, watching as he jumps for joy when he sees you at the front gate.

Karl Heisenberg

Karl will NOT admit it, but you’re the literal ray of sunshine in his life, getting excited when he sees you walk through the gates of his factory.

Hes always smiling to himself when he sees moss, flowers and vines throughout the metal benches and grates of his factory but will deny it if anyone asks.

Sometimes when he’s welding away at metal he won’t hear you come in, and only realises it when he takes a break and sees you curled on the floor with three lycan puppies in your arms as you create sticks from your hands to play fetch with.

Karl is very protective over you and hates when you’re at family meetings because Miranda wants to use your gifts of growth and healing to experiment on you further. Wanting to see if you could potentially grow new limbs or heal others not just the natural world.

One time he walked into experimenting rooms ready for another trial on a potential solider when he notices the Soldat had green leaves coming from his wounds and his torso was wrapped in vines. He couldn’t help but smile at your little additions and made a note in his designs to make all his Soldat’s with your touches to them, deciding that they looked better with them anyway.

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg x reader #donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #salvatore moreau #salvatore moreau x reader #resident evil headcanons #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #resident evil #RE8 #asks #prompt

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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years ago

Text

little dove

loki x reader

description - Loki acted so caring around you, more so than anyone else in his life. He loved to take care of you, especially when you had a long day, and he got teased by some of the team for it.

warnings - fem reader, cute loki and pet names, implications of gender fluid loki?, reader gets picked up, slight implications of a nsfw theme the night before

word count - 1900

A/N - this is a pretty plotless blurb but i just love this man, i have been obsessed with the new series and just wanted to write anything about him. i will inevitably be writing for him more so please end me now. there are no spoilers for the new series and it takes place in an AU after new york but pretty much otherwise out of timeline. all the avengers live at the compound together, endgame didnt happen and no i wont talk about it.

MASTERLIST

Loki was not someone who was overly friendly. To most of the people in the compound, he was courteous at best. That rule, however, was bent occasionally. The only exceptions were you and his brother (some of the time). He had been smitten with you the moment he saw you though he would never admit it. You were bubbly and light and the exact opposite of him. You were so friendly and kind that it almost made him want to be the same.

You were kind to him, which he was shocked by. Most of the people in the compound tolerated him but they were never caught being too nice. You, on the other hand, were friendly to him the day you met him.

You weren't an Avenger, you weren't really even a fighter. You were a genius in the medical field as well as the unofficial caretaker of everyone on the team. You made sure that they all ate, they didn't overwork themselves, that they were getting enough sleep every night because they were your closest friends. Everyone listened to you. You had this power over them all that they just wanted to make sure you were happy and that meant they wanted to do what you asked of them. They tried their best to take care of you as well.

When you met Loki and were very nice to him, he expected some ulterior motive. He assumed that there was something you wanted or that you would gain his trust and then humiliate him later. So he kept his guard up. This was proved wrong over the months to come. He noticed that you were that kind to everyone and you were just happy to be around other people. He let you in over time.

You became the only person who he opened up to, even more than his brother. You would keep him company even when he lashed out at others and when he was filled with guilt. You forgave him for his past without question and opened up to him as well. It took probably 3 months for Loki to realize that he was in love with you.

He couldn't believe himself. In love with a midgardian? What was he thinking?

But it was undeniable and uncontrollable. He just couldn't help himself. You would read to him and watch movies with him. You would braid his hair when he was stressed and would teach him how to cook when he asked. You were just everything to him. It took him a long time to confess. He was terrified that you would reject him. You could have had anyone you wanted, why would you choose him?

When he did confess, you were thrilled and he couldn't believe it. You kissed him and he thought he could die happy right then and there. He had never felt this much love for anyone besides his mother.

You continued to break his walls down and he fell deeper in love with you every day. He didn't, however, change his behavior towards others very much. He had grown closer to the team, having regained some trust from them all. He was no longer aggressive and he tried very hard not to lash out. Most of that was out of his own desire to be trusted. He realized that he was going to have to make his life work to remain with you and he slowly learned that most of the people in the compound weren't actually as awful as he might have originally guessed. That didn't mean that his personality changed toward them though. He was still slightly cold and short. He wouldn't smile too much and he was what some might call grumpy most of the time.

That only changed around you and everyone noticed. Loki got teased for it constantly and he couldn't care less. He just wanted to make you happy and he had no regard for what anyone thought of your relationship.

He was waiting patiently in the common area of the compound on the couch. Steve and Rhodey were sat on the couch watching something that Loki didn't recognize or care for, it was some kind of reality TV. When he heard the elevator door open he looked toward the door and you were walking towards him. A grin spread over his face and his posture relaxed. He could hear the men on the couch scoff at his sudden change in demeanor. When you got close to him he picked you up and pulled you to straddle his hips on his lap and immediately began kissing all over you. You buried your face in his chest and he kissed your hair.

"How are you, my love?" He mumbled sweetly and you hummed. "Long day?" he questioned and you nodded in affirmation. "Lets go get you some food then, yes?" He asked lightly and you hummed happily. He picked you up and you clung to him, arms and legs wrapping around him. He carried you with ease toward the kitchen. It shocked you sometimes how much he could lift and how easily he lifted you but you had to remind yourself that he was indeed a god.

"How come you never treat us that way?" Rhodey called from the couch and Loki grumbled a bit.

"Oh I'm sorry did you want me to pick you up and make you some tea?" He asked sarcastically and you giggled from where your face was pressed into his chest. He smiled at the fact that he had gotten you to laugh and he set you on the countertop. He tried to pull away to make you some food but you did not let him leave you, still holding on to the front of the shirt that he was wearing. "Do you want to talk about your day?" He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead lightly. You gazed up at him lovingly and his heart skipped a beat.

"I'm just tired. People are annoying and I didn't exactly sleep much last night." You winked at the last part. He smirked at your comment.

"I'm sorry, my love. I was under the impression that you enjoyed what we did last night but I would be happy to give you plenty of time to sleep tonight if that's what you would prefer." he teased and you punched him lightly in the chest.

"Okay fine you're right, I like getting kept up." You confessed. You paused for a moment and his eyes remained on you as he waited patiently for you to continue. "I was mistaken for an intern again today. You would think that after over a year of working here that people would recognize my name and my work but today there were some new investors walking through the facility. When they came to look at my work they started to talk to one of my coworkers and then turned to me to ask me to get them a coffee order while they waited for the doctor to arrive." You grumbled, your mood now sour at the memory. Loki frowned and he felt his anger begin to take shape inside of him. His eyes flashed green for a moment.

"Would you like me to go and teach them a lesson? Perhaps just to mildly terrify them?" he asked, fully serious. That cheered you up plenty and you chuckled. Loki knew that you were laughing because of the absurdity of his statement and the fact that he was dead serious but he was just happy to see you smile again. "I will never understand the midgardian obsession with gender roles. Though I suppose my own identity is more fluid than most asgardians as well." He confessed and you brought your hand to rest on the side of his face. He leaned his head into your hand as he beamed at you. You loved when he compared his home to yours. It reminded you just how powerful he was and that he still chose to spend his days with you. There was suddenly a flash of green before he held his hand out to you, now holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. When you gasped and moved to grab them he slipped from your grasp to move towards the refrigerator.

"Hey that's not fair, you tricked me." You pouted at him, now grumbling that you couldn't hold him anymore.

"Little dove, I cannot make you food when you hold onto me. When I am finished cooking then you can stay with me for as long as you would like." He promised and you nodded solemnly. He quickly pressed another kiss to your cheek before moving around the kitchen to prepare you waffles as he often did when you were having a long day. You observed the beautiful flowers in your hand and watched him as he moved around the kitchen, a million times more comfortable than he had been when he first moved into the compound. You talked contentedly with the people passing by as well as the man who was diligently trying to improve your mood. Occasionally one of the other team members would walk by and laugh a bit at how caring he was acting toward you, all of them just happy you were content though. Eventually Thor stopped by while Loki put some batter into the waffle iron and sliced some fruit.

"You know, this is the happiest I have ever seen him." He stated simply, a smile in is voice.

"It's the happiest I've been too." You responded with a small grin.

"The last time I saw him open up to someone the way that he opens up to you was on Asgard with our mother. She would be happy to see him being so vulnerable again." He patted your back and walked away as tears started to come to your eyes. The brothers would talk of their mother sometimes and Loki often mention the fact that he believed she would have loved you, if not for your own personality then for what you did for her son. You wished that you could meet her.

You were suddenly taken out of your thoughts by someone handing you a plate of waffles and sliced up fruit with a little container of syrup on the side. You looked up at Loki and nearly cried right there. You put the plate aside for a moment to reach out and pull him into a crushing hug. He was a bit startled but responded quickly, a hand going to the back of your head and his fingers brushing through your hair soothingly.

"Did something happen, my love?" He asked softly and you sniffled a bit.

"Just love you and I'm very thankful for everything you do for me." You got out and he affirmed to himself that he would die for you in an instant.

"I love you too, darling, but I slaved away at those waffles and now they are getting cold." He teased and he kissed your hair gently. You took a deep breath before pulling away, looking up at him with love. You smiled and then hopped off of the counter. He walked with you over to the dining table where he sat next to you and serenely waited as you ate, the food lifting your spirits a bit and easing your anxiety of the day. You planned on spending the rest of it with the man next to you as well as every day after that.

#loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x reader imagine #loki laufeyson #thor #thor ragnarok #thor imagine #marvel imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #the avengers #avengers imagine #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #fluff #loki fluff #loki x reader fluff

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mischief-tea · 2 years ago

Note

I'm being honestly curious here and not trying to be mean or derogatory about this. Since you're allergic to corn, how difficult is it for you to find things tray don't contain some form of corn?

Incredibly. I am deeply grateful that I am not as sensitive as some people I know of in that I can still buy a limited number of known products at grocery stores and tend to be able to avoid bad reactions to airborne contaminants as long as I keep my exposure brief (eg perfume section at the store? Hold your breath and walk fast you'll be fine in a minute. But more than 15 minutes in a room with popcorn? Tachycardia.)

A lot of people fail to realize how contaminated our entire food system is with corn. Globally, but especially in the United States and since it has grown in popularity, China and South Korea (possibly Vietnam and Thailand as well from what I hear but I'm less familiar with the cuisine and common imports/exports)

Medical is particularly difficult to navigate because so many pharmaceuticals come suspended in what are typically corn byproducts (vegetable glycerin, cellulose, various alcohols etc) or along with preservatives or thickeners (most commercially produced citric acid, ascorbic acid, xantham gum) which are produced using a corn medium.

I am not equally sensitive to all of these things but they do cumulatively impact my ability to tolerate further exposure without a severe reaction.

Anyways, I read a lot of labels and have cut certain foods and medications out of my life entirely for my own safety. But I can mostly fake being normal outside of medical settings and having to just keep it out of my living space. Others with less or more severe corn allergies will have wildly varying stories of how they handle it.

Hope this helps answer your curiosity!

#allergies #life stuff #medical #corn hell #food

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

The Only Woman

Pairing: (Henry Cavill!)Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Requested: Yep - “Hello Ma’amMay I request a Sherlock Holemes x Redaer?That when they were younger she was BSF with Sherlock and Mycroft. And all of the sudden they disappeared and never wrote to her a letter or nothing. And she got closer to Enola and when Edoria disappeared she reunites with Sherlock and Mycroft and Reader is Mad and Sad that he left without saying nothing. She always was in love with him and at the end she finds out he also was in love with her! And lots of fluffThank You so MuchAnonymous (she/her/hers)”

Summary: Basically just the request

Warnings: Probably some swearing, some 20th century misogyny, pining, fluff, angst, denial, all that fun stuff, probably ooc Sherlock but we vibe with it because he’s soft af

A/N: My first full length Sherlock fic! I should mention that my requests aren’t actually open right now, especially not for full fics but I was inspired by this request and so decided to make it into a full one! I hope you guys enjoy, please remember to reblog, comment or send an ask letting me know what you think and if you want to see me write more for Sherlock (and Henry and his other characters for that matter) in the future!

Y/N had been essentially another resident of the Holmes household her whole life, having been introduced to the family through the two boys - Sherlock and Mycroft, whom she had run into while out playing in the woods. Her family lived in the house nearest to the Holmes residence, technically making them neighbours.

Sherlock and Mycroft didn’t exactly do ‘friends’, that much had been clear even to Y/N’s young mind after meeting them. She was a year and a half younger than Sherlock and yet she still knew more about interacting with other people than he did. Not that either of the Holmes boys had ever seemed interested in other people, they had their brains to keep them occupied, and when they failed to find entertainment in learning, they had each other.

Despite this, they took a shine to Y/N when they found her playing make-believe on her own in the woods and insisted that she come over to have dinner with them and their family.

Mr and Mrs Holmes had gone out of their way, following that initial visit, to make Y/N feel as welcome as possible at Ferndell Hall. At first this was simply because they were astounded that their sons had actually made a friend and seemed interested in maintaining this friendship, but then it was partially as a result of the somewhat turbulent relationship that it became clear Y/N had with her family.

Eudoria in particular had ensured that Y/N knew she could always come and visit, that there was a spare bedroom that could be set up should she require it, which Y/N only began to take advantage of as she grew up and the rows with her parents over her future became more frequent.

However, it was always Sherlock that she was closest to. While she considered Mycroft a friend, and he had grudgingly returned the sentiment, they had never clicked in the same way that Y/N had with Sherlock. Occasionally Mycroft would storm off midway through a game, frustrated by Sherlock’s intelligence which so trumped his and Y/N’s, or he would simply decide that he was ‘above’ having friends.

Sherlock never much minded Y/N hanging around though. Truthfully, now that she was grown, Y/N looked back at their years of friendship and couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps his reason for tolerating her company was because she gave him the awed reactions that he secretly desired from his intelligence.

She had fond memories of her childhood with the Holmes. At Ferndell she never felt the need to pretend to be a young lady ready to be married that her parents so desperately wanted her to be, even as a child. Mr Holmes encouraged her to continue her studies beyond what her Governess would teach her, and Eudoria actively tried to teach her all that she could, going so far as to teach her alongside her sons on occasion - Mycroft wasn’t exactly fond of that, though Sherlock appeared to enjoy her company.

And then there was Enola, a surprisingly timid child considering the family that she had been born into - though Eudoria was convinced that her shyness was a trait that she would soon grow out of. Enola adored Y/N.

While Sherlock and Mycroft paid their little sister no mind, too caught up in their own lives to acknowledge their baby sister’s, Y/N was fond of Enola. Having grown up in a male-dominated household with only brothers for company, she had always wanted a younger sister.

It was Mr Holmes’ death that changed everything.

Not long after his death, Y/N was saying goodbye to her two closest friends as they left for Boarding School. Y/N had promised to write to them and had been encouraged to do so by Sherlock, who seemed thrilled by the prospect of their continued communication and Mycroft had also seemed somewhat in favour of the idea.

Y/N wrote to the brothers for a year after they left. Her letters to Sherlock in particular were long and full of detail about both her life, her parents continued attempts to interest her in marriage and her attempts to further her education, as well as the lives of Eudoria and Enola.

After a year of these letters, however, Y/N had yet to receive word from either brother and thus, with a heavy heart, she had halted her letter writing and turned her mind away from the Holmes brothers.

Eudoria had ensured that Y/N still knew that she was welcome whenever she wanted to come over, however, and so Y/N’s life at Ferndell continued even with the absence of the boys she had considered to be her closest friends.

Y/N had been the first to be informed that Eudoria had disappeared, Enola having ran over to her house the day of her sixteenth birthday in a state of distress, imploring the older woman to help her. They had agreed that it was best for Sherlock and Mycroft to be contacted at once, with Sherlock’s career, Enola had been certain that her brother would make himself indispensable.

Y/N had been less keen on writing to the Holmes brothers, dreading having to see her old friends again, still far more hurt than she could care to admit about their silence following their departure. Every time in the past week that Enola had brought up the topic of her brothers, Y/N had been quick to change the subject.

A decision that she was coming to regret now that she approached Ferndell to find an automobile parked outside of it. Y/N bit back a groan, aware that its presence more than likely meant that Sherlock and Mycroft would be waiting inside.

Y/N didn’t knock before she entered, she never had as she had basically been a part of the family over the past few years.

She could hear the low mumble of voices coming from the drawing room, which were becoming steadily louder and Y/N’s expression dropped into a deep frown as she stepped towards the room, recognising Enola’s voice, breaking with emotion, even through the closed doors.

Before she could place her hand on the knob, however, the door was flung open and Enola rushed out, crashing into Y/N, who almost dropped the bags she was holding.

“Enola?” Y/N breathed, her hands gripping onto the young girl’s shoulders, steadying her.

“Y/N!” Enola embraced her tightly, though not before Y/N caught sight of her face, flushed red and eyes shining with tears, her expression the picture of distress.

“What’s happened? What’s wrong? Why are you… in your undergarments?” Y/N asked in a rush as Enola pulled away. The teenager wiped fiercely at her face, clenching her jaw.

“My brothers are here…” Enola seemed to struggle with herself for a moment before shaking her head. “I wish to be alone.”

With that, Enola pushed past her and shortly after Y/N heard footsteps on the stairs. Y/N looked back to the door to the drawing room and caught a glimpse of a man holding a book, chestnut curls falling over his forehead, his brown eyes just visible, his brow furrowed as though he were frowning.

Sherlock was recognisable immediately. His eyes moved over to the door, away from the chair Y/N knew to be facing him in the room which she assumed seated Mycroft, and his book lowered, his head raising and his lips parting in slight surprise - an expression that Y/N had never seen on him in the entire duration of their friendship.

Before he could say anything, however, Y/N turned on her heel and walked towards the kitchen.

“Good morning, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said from where she was kneading bread dough on the kitchen counter.

“Morning, Mrs Lane - I see that Enola’s brothers have arrived.”

“Yes, they got here yesterday,” Mrs Lane confirmed as Y/N placed down the bags of food she had bought and began to unpack them into the pantry. Knowing how overworked Mrs Lane had been, staffing the house alone, particularly since Eudoria’s absence, Y/N had taken to doing the food shopping for them.

“Enola seemed very upset,” Y/N said, unable to conceal her worry.

“Yes - Mr Mycroft has been less than impressed by both the state of the house and Enola herself.”

“Why?” Y/N demanded, her frown deepening, the beginnings of anger festering in her stomach.

“He doesn’t think Mrs Holmes did a good job of raising her,” Mrs Lane looked equally disgusted by the words even as she spoke them. “He wishes to send her to a finishing school to turn her into a proper lady.”

“But can’t he see that she’s happy here?”

“I don’t think Mr Holmes much cares,” Mrs Lane admitted.

“What does Sherlock think of all of it?”

“He has been rather silent on the matter, Miss Y/L/N,” Mrs Lane said, shaking her head and sighing. “I fear Enola has been rather disappointed by the brother she so idolised.”

“She said she wished to be alone for a while,” Y/N said, leaning on the counter and rubbing her forehead, wanting to ease out the deep concern she was feeling for the girl she had come to think of as a sister. “I’ll try and talk to her in a little bit,” she decided and Mrs Lane nodded her approval.

Y/N ventured out into the garden half an hour later, figuring that that was ample time for Enola to think it over for herself. Y/N knew exactly where the Holmes daughter would be, she knew that Enola had a favourite tree in the garden where she would go, should she want to get away from the house for a little bit.

What she wasn’t expecting was to find Sherlock walking back from the direction of the very tree Y/N knew Enola to be hiding in. He looked deep in thought, but there was no denying the very slight smile that lifted the corners of his lips.

Y/N allowed her head to fall, her eyes on the ground, hoping against hope that there was even the smallest chance that Sherlock may not notice her.

“Y/N - it was you I saw,” there was an edge of something like delight in his voice as he spoke and Y/N wanted to look up, to see his expression, to confirm that he was smiling as he acknowledged her.

Instead, she chose to ignore him and attempted to continue walking.

“Y/N!” Sherlock called, and reached out a hand to gently take hold of her arm, pulling her ever-so carefully back to stand in front of her.

“Mr Holmes,” Y/N returned his greeting, lifting her head to watch his features fall into a slight frown.

“I wasn’t aware that you would be here,” Sherlock said, his eyes searching hers.

“I was always welcome at Ferndell,” Y/N responded stiffly. “Now I must go and speak with Enola,” she said, turning ready to leave him.

“Y-” Sherlock cut himself off from saying her name. “Miss Y/L/N,” he corrected, and Y/N risked a glance at her old friend over her shoulder, seeing his brow crinkled in confusion, an expression that she had rarely seen during their childhood.

“Yes, Mr Holmes?”

“How have you been?” Sherlock was floundering, that much was obvious. All the articles about him that Y/N and Enola had read, all her memories of him from her younger years had always portrayed him as being calm, collected, ready with his words. Seeing him now, in this state of uncertainty, caused by seeing her for the first time after so many years, it brought her a sense of satisfaction.

“Fine thank you, now if you’ll excuse me,” she didn’t give Sherlock a chance to respond, walking away from him as quickly as possible, though she could feel his eyes burning into her back as she left him behind.

Enola was sitting on the grass at the base of the tree, her back pressed up against it, her sketchbook balanced on her lap but her eyes were glazed over and looking at the scenery rather than at the pages.

“Can I join you?”

The teenager started, her eyes widening in slight shock but then she relaxed as her eyes landed on Y/N, who she offered a small, tired smile and nodded her head. Once Y/N had seated herself on the ground, Enola scooted over to rest her head on her shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“I’m glad to see you’ve put on clothes now,” Y/N finally broke the silence and the younger girl laughed a little.

“Apparently my proportions are incorrect,” Enola informed her.

“Yes, I often find myself thinking that,” Y/N teased and Enola giggled again, playfully elbowing Y/N in the side. “Are you okay?”

“I don’t want to go to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School for Young Girls.”

“Finishing school is the worst,” Y/N agreed.

“I remember when you went,” Enola murmured. “Mother said you hated it.”

“I did,” Y/N confirmed. “I begged my parents every holiday to not send me back, I think I even asked your mother at one point to adopt me so that I wouldn’t have to go,” Y/N chuckled at the memory, shaking her head. “It was a source of great amusement for my brothers.”

“Mine too,” Enola said darkly. “Mycroft is an utter pig, you know.”

Y/N laughed again at the choice of words.

“Family reunion didn’t go quite as planned, I take it?”

“I didn’t have a hat or gloves,” Enola sighed.

“So off to finishing school?”

“The only logical course of action,” Enola agreed, her tone biting. “You were friends with them, weren’t you?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, wary of where this conversation was going. “But I stand no chance of changing their minds. Mycroft was always stubborn, even when we were children, and I haven’t seen them since they went to boarding school.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, I wish I could help,” Y/N said, her heart aching for the young woman.

“It’s okay,” Enola murmured. “I was just wondering, though… Sherlock was talking about me as a child - you must have known me at the same time as him, yes?” Y/N nodded her confirmation. “I think I have more memories of you than him or Mycroft.”

“I spent a lot of time with you,” Y/N shrugged.

“He said that I used to drag a pinecone around with me.”

Y/N couldn’t help herself from laughing as the memory struck her.

“Oh yes - a little pinecone, wrapped in wool that you dragged around on a string because of Queen Victoria’s spaniel. Called… Dash? I think?”

“That’s what Sherlock said, yes,” Enola straightened up, a slight grin on her face. “So it’s true?”

“Yes, you were rather obsessed with the thing,” Y/N confirmed, still chuckling a little. Silence fell between them, comfortable and thoughtful.

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

“What were my brothers like growing up?”

Y/N thought hard before answering, her mind going back to her childhood.

“They were fun,” Y/N said at last. “They both knew that they were smarter than me, and I think that that was at least part of the reason they kept me around. Sherlock would teach me things - things that my Governess wouldn’t have thought I ought to know…” Y/N trailed off. “They were kind,” she admitted at last. “Albeit a little aloof at times, a little arrogant, they were always kind to me. I think Sherlock could tell immediately that I was unhappy with my family, and that was why they brought me to Ferndell,” Y/N confided.

“Mycroft was kind to you?” Enola asked, staring at her wide-eyed.

“He didn’t know any better until he went out into the world,” Y/N replied, smiling a little.

“I won’t let him send me to Miss Harrison’s Finishing School For Girls,” Enola stated defiantly.

“No,” Y/N agreed. “I don’t think that you should.”

///

Y/N was reading outside when the maid came to see her.

“Miss Y/L/N, there’s a Mr Holmes here to see you,” Freya spoke, her eyebrows raised just a tad in a teasing way, indicating that she thought it was a romantic house-call. Y/N frowned in return.

“Mr Holmes?” She repeated. “Not Enola?”

“If it’s Enola then she’s certainly changed a lot since I last saw her,” Freya said. “Mr Holmes is in the drawing room.”

Y/N closed her book and stood, following the maid inside, through the house and into the drawing room. She pushed the door open, still confused as to why either of the Holmes brothers would feel the need to make a house call to see her.

Sherlock was standing in the drawing room, his back to her as he stared at the painting hanging above the fireplace. She closed the door as quietly as she could, but the soft sound caught the attention of the detective anyway. Sherlock turned and offered her an unsure, gentle smile.

“Good morning, Mr Holmes,” Y/N said, bowing her head just slightly towards him. She thought she saw Sherlock’s smile falter just a tad before he returned her greeting. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m afraid I bring some bad news,” Sherlock said, walking away from the fireplace. Y/N stepped further into the room and indicated a chair. “Thank you,” he said as he sat down, Y/N seating herself in the armchair across from him. “Enola has run away.”

“Is that really all that surprising?” Y/N sighed, though his words did immediately cause her to worry for the young girl.

“Were you aware of what she was planning?” Sherlock asked.

“No. It just doesn’t surprise me.”

Sherlock looked at her for a long moment, seemingly analyzing her expression and finally he gave a slow nod of his head.

“So I take it that she hasn’t contacted you at all?” He asked.

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday when I left Ferndell,” Y/N confirmed, attempting to keep her features as neutral as possible.

Sherlock frowned at her, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Even if she had, you wouldn’t tell me, would you?”

“No,” Y/N admitted, shrugging her shoulders. “But you can’t blame me for that. We both know that Finishing School is not where Enola’s time would be best spent. Besides, from what she told me Miss Harrison seems a foul woman.”

She thought she saw Sherlock’s lips twitch as though he wanted to smile, but then he schooled his expression into one of neutrality again.

“You know, there was a time when you would tell me everything,” he reminded her.

“And there was a time that you found me utterly insufferable for that,” Y/N countered, her words sounding like she was spitting venom at him.

“I never found you insufferable,” Sherlock said, a chuckle in his voice.

“Is that so?” Y/N mused, quirking her eyebrow at him.

“Perhaps a little slow at times, but I wouldn’t take that personally,” she hated how teasing he sounded, as though nothing had changed since he left. Sherlock clearly picked up on the anger festering in the pit of her stomach and spoke again before she had time to lash out. “But I never found you insufferable.”

Y/N made a noise conveying how unconvinced she was by his words and she stood from the chair.

“If that’s all…”

Sherlock’s eyes flashed with something similar to disappointment before he, too, stood and adjusted his suit jacket slightly.

“Yes… that’s all,” he said. “I thank you for your time.”

Y/N nodded and watched as Sherlock crossed the room to stand in front of the door, reaching out a hand towards the doorknob. Before he could turn it, though, Y/N was hit by a sudden wave of concern.

“Mr Holmes?”

The man paused and looked back at her over his shoulder at her.

“You… if you find her, or here anything… could you let me know? She’s only young… I worry about her.”

Sherlock bowed his head in a sign of consent.

“I will keep you updated, I promise.”

“Thank you… Sherlock.”

Just as Sherlock had promised, he kept her updated on the situation with Enola as best as he could and she received letters from him every other day, even if he had found no new leads.

On the days that he had nothing new to report, his letters were filled with updates about his own life, general musings, his theories about both Enola’s whereabouts and other, unofficial cases that had caught his eye.

In short, they were the most un-Sherlock-like letters that Y/N could have ever imagined receiving and every time the post came she felt her heart lift in hope that there would be another one for her.

The only letter that Y/N had replied to, however, was one dated about a week and a half after Enola’s disappearance, in which Sherlock told her that he had asked Mycroft to pass over his duties and to make Enola his ward, filing Y/N in on the details about what had happened with Enola and the case of the missing Maquis. Sherlock had also let her know that he had attempted to make contact with his sister via newspaper and that she had indeed come to the meeting spot but had been disguised.

From the tone of that letter, it had been clear to Y/N that Sherlock truly cared for his younger sister, and that he knew that she would be capable of taking care of herself despite the worry that he so clearly felt over her.

After having received a response from Y/N after that letter, Sherlock had implored her to keep replying, but Y/N had not. She was afraid of falling into the same trap that she had when they were kids - of allowing herself to get too close to him, to feel something for him, when it was never going to go anywhere.

Y/N had allowed her heart to be broken by Sherlock Holmes once before, when she was too young to truly understand matters of the heart. She wasn’t going to do it again.

About a week after receiving the letter recounting the tale of Enola and Tewkesbury, however, Y/N got another surprise in the post. A letter from Enola herself, detailing Y/N with much of the same information that had already been given to her by Sherlock, though with more detail and far more reassurance that she truly was safe and secure and comfortable in her newfound lodgings in London.

In the final paragraph of the letter, there was a plea from Enola, imploring Y/N to go and visit her in London - she had attached a date for the following week and the address of a cafe that she said she thought Y/N would appreciate.

And so Y/N found herself boarding a train the next week, ready to meet Enola in London, agreeing to stay with her for a couple of days so that they could properly catch up.

Just as she was settling into the carriage, the train about to leave the station, the door slid open again and a familiar face appeared.

“May I join you?” Sherlock asked, a somewhat nervous smile on his face. Y/N returned it and nodded her head.

“Of course,” Sherlock entered into the compartment, closing the door behind him and placing his bag onto the overhead luggage rack and taking the seat opposite her. “I wasn’t aware that you were back here?”

“Only for a night - Mycroft demanded my help,” Sherlock explained. “I thought about visiting you, but I was unsure of how much it would be appreciated,” he added. Y/N bowed her head a little, finding herself unable to maintain eye contact with him. “You didn’t reply to my letters.”

“Yes I did.”

Y/N risked a glance up and saw Sherlock’s lips quirk a little, holding back a smile.

“I apologise - you replied to only one of my letters.”

“That’s one more than you replied to of mine,” Y/N pointed out, raising her eyebrows challengingly. Sherlock didn’t even attempt to keep his smile at bay, grinning at her in the familiar cheeky way that Y/N remembered from their childhood.

“I wasn’t aware of how good you were at bearing grudges,” he mused, leaning back in his seat.

“Well perhaps if you’d come to visit you would have realised,” Y/N muttered, opening her bag that rested on the chair beside her and pulled out the book she was reading.

Before she could open it, though, Sherlock’s hand pressed down on the cover, preventing her from doing so.

“I'm sorry, Y/N,” he whispered and when Y/N met his eyes again they were so filled with genuine apology and concern.

“I wasn’t aware that you knew what an apology was,” but she smiled a little, seeing how Sherlock’s eyes brightened

“Well I’ve been attempting to catch up on them as of late.”

“Enola?”

“I have yet to find her to give her one,” Sherlock confessed, leaning back at last. “You’re going down to see her, aren’t you?”

Y/N knew there was no point in denying it, Sherlock was always capable of telling when people were lying. He had always been particularly quick at picking up on Y/N’s lies as well when they were children.

“Yes - she wrote inviting me down last week,” Sherlock nodded slowly.

“Would you… would you let me know that she’s safe - that her lodgings are comfortable?”

“I’ll let her know you asked,” Y/N said instead, her voice quiet and full of understanding.

“Thank you,” Sherlock swallowed hard.

Silence fell between them. The most comfortable silence that had existed between them since their reunion.

“I did miss you, you know.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When I left home - I did miss you. I know you think I didn’t, and it’s understandable, but I did,” Sherlock confessed.

“Why didn’t you reply?” Y/N asked and she hated the desperation in her voice, the plea to understand why so many years had passed in silence. “Why didn’t you come and visit?”

“I don’t have a good reason for why I did - or didn’t - do any of it. And I’m so sorry,” Sherlock sighed but Y/N frowned at him, noticing how his gaze briefly dropped her own as he spoke, how his fingers fidgeted slightly on his lap.

“I know you’re the detective of the two of us, but I know when you lie, Sherlock Holmes,” Y/N didn’t know what made her do it, but she lent forwards and grabbed one of his hands between her own. “Tell me the truth, Sherlock.”

Sherlock studied her hard for a long minute, his eyes sweeping across her face, taking in every inch of her features and there was an emotion that Y/N couldn’t quite place lingering in his eyes.

“Mycroft used to… make fun of me, when we were children. Because he knew how I… how I felt about you. I’ve never quite… understood why he did, he always liked you, even if he never admitted it, but I hated it. I hated Mycroft making fun of me, it made me feel like he was smarter than me…” Sherlock’s cheeks reddened. “I did not mean for that to sound as conceited as it did.”

“To be fair, you were quite a conceited child,” Y/N teased, squeezing his hand and Sherlock chuckled. “But… what do you mean, how you felt about me?”

“You really want me to spell it out for you?” Sherlock asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You said it yourself, I always was a little slow,” she grinned, “at least compared to you.”

Her heart was pounding out of her chest, she could barely breathe from the excitement at the idea that Sherlock was hinting at what she thought he was.

“You have to know by now that you are the only woman who I have ever held a place for in my heart.” He paused, shrugging his shoulders bashfully. “Or you were.”

“Enola?”

“Of course,” he confirmed. He lifted her hand tentatively up, pressing his lips gently against the back of it, keeping his gaze lowered. “I just hope that you know you never left it.”

The rest of the journey passed in a blur, the two of them having the final catch up that had been missing for so many years, everything feeling as though it was falling back into place, just like everything had been when they were kids.

By the time the train pulled into the station at London, Y/N had no desire to say goodbye to Sherlock Holmes, and by the way he loitered with her on the platform, it appeared that the sentiment was returned.

“Where are you headed?” Sherlock inquired. “I know Enola wouldn’t want you to tell me her address, but…”

“I’m actually meeting her at a cafe,” Y/N told him, adjusting her grip on her bag and smiling at him.

“In that case… would you allow me to escort you? London can be rather confusing at times, especially for those used to the country lifestyle,” he suggested and if Y/N didn’t know any better, she would have thought he was blushing a little in embarrassment.

“I would appreciate that yes, thank you Sherlock,” she agreed and Sherlock offered her his arm.

Enola did not seem overly surprised at Sherlock’s presence beside Y/N. There was a slight raise of her eyebrows, a knowing smile on her face and a gleam of amusement in her eyes as she walked over to them, her arms laden with a bunch of yellow roses.

“It’s so wonderful to see you again,” she said, completely bypassing her brother and embracing Y/N as carefully as she could with the flowers in her hands.

“I was so happy to hear from you, I was so worried about you,” Y/N told her, pulling away and examining her surrogate sister for any trace of hurt.

“I promise I’m fine,” Enola laughed, holding out the flowers for her. “I bought these for you, though.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you.”

Enola’s eyes slid over to Sherlock at last, who was standing awkwardly to the side. Y/N could sense how his own gaze was flicking continuously between herself and his sister, clearly overjoyed at seeing her again but also wanting to continue the conversation he and Y/N had been holding on the train.

“It’s more of an apology, actually,” Enola mused. “I’m afraid that something has come up and my assistance is required… elsewhere. Perhaps Sherlock would take my place?” She raised her eyebrows at her brother.

“I-uh-”

“Fantastic!” Enola cheered, hugging Y/N once more and giving a nod to her brother before rushing away.

“Did your sister just set us up?” Y/N asked, turning to face the younger Holmes brother.

“I think so,” Sherlock confirmed. “For what it’s worth, she hasn’t gone far, I believe she has every intention of snooping on us.”

Y/N laughed at that piece of knowledge, rolling her eyes affectionately at Enola’s antics before placing her hand once more in Sherlock’s arm. He reached across her to take her bag to allow her to hold the flowers.

“Well we wouldn’t want to disappoint her, now would we?” Y/N said, nodding towards the door to the cafe, not missing the affectionate smile it brought to Sherlock’s face.

As he held the door open for her, Y/N reached up onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

#Sherlock Holmes #sherlock holmes fanfiction #sherlock holmes imagine #henry!sherlock #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock holmes fluff #sherlock holmes x you #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #enola holmes #enola holmes fanfiction #courts writings

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randomperson351 · 3 years ago

Text

Bittersweet - DH. (Requested - Part 2.)

Summary: After their encounter Stella has begun trying to move on, Derek regrets what he said and Isaac is playing Pack matchmaker.

Notes: This was requested by one of my wattpad people _stellastyless, I hope you like it! If anyone has any requests, you can message me!

Do not repost or rewrite any of my work. Minors and ageless blogs get blocked.

Masterlist

Part 1

"You've literally just made that up."

"I have not, it's literally a fact." Derek mocked Stella at the weekly pack meeting.

To put it lightly, the feelings that had grown between them were bittersweet. What started as a tolerable encounter had turned into picking fights with each other and disagreeing over every little thing they could find.

Scott had merely suggested a different way of fighting the hunters in order to track down who was controlling them when Derek had shut him down immediately. It usually wasn't a big deal, but he was so adamant and angry about Scott even suggesting it that his own pack member, Isaac, had raised his eyebrows at his Alpha's behaviour.

"You didn't even try to hear what he was gonna say dude." Stiles jumped in to defend his best friend and cousin.

"I wasn't asking you for your opinion, Stiles; stay out of it. You're just a human, what would you know?" Derek snapped.

"Hey, that 'human' has actually saved your ass more times than you think and come up with all the plans for the missions you go on; and guess what, they've always worked! Can you say the same with the plans you've made?" Stella questioned him, getting more and more aggravated at Derek failing to acknowledge all the work other people put in for him and his pack, with little to no thanks in return. She especially hated when he thought he could go after Stiles as an easy target, they could easily let him do all the work on his own.

Derek stared harshly at Stella, fixing her with a stern look at her outburst. She stared back unflinching, she'd never been scared of Derek and she wouldn't start now.

"Uh Stella, why don't you come with me to get some more snacks?" Isaac asked, but left no room for disagreement when he grabbed her arm and pulled her through to Scott's kitchen.

"Isaac the hell are you doing, we don't need anymore snacks." Stella said harshly, but Isaac didn't take it to heart. He knew there was something going on, it was kind of hard to ignore the distressed chemo-signals rolling off of her.

"More like what the hell is going on with you? I mean seriously, you stink of pain." He told her, moving to sit down on one of the breakfast bar stools and pulling Stella's wrist so she would follow his lead and sit.

She was silent for a moment, composing herself from the lump that had formed in her throat. After a minute or two, she spoke.

"Something happened between me and Derek." She began, stopping to gauge the reaction from Isaac.

"Well finally, took you long enough." His attempt at humour was not lost, the laugh it elicited from her was a relief from the crushing pressure she felt to cry a few moments prior.

"I really really like him, but he made it perfectly clear that he does not feel the same." Derek's words rung in her ears like a constant reminder.

Isaac must've seen the change in expression on her face because he got up and hugged her tight without hesitation.

"Don't stress Stella, I'm sure he'll come around. He always does, in his own, Derek like way."

Stella breathed out a laugh and disconnected herself from the hug to rub the tears from her eyes. "Thanks Isaac."

Isaac smiled at her, but their moment was interrupted by a certain voice.

"Hey are you guys gonna take much longer, some of us are wasting away in here!" Stiles shouted through to them, making Isaac just turn around and grab some random food from the cupboards and Stella roll her eyes while laughing.

They traipsed back into the living room and took their original seats, Scott and Stiles in individual arm chairs, Stella on one side of the sofa, Isaac on the other and Derek stood up in front of them on the other side of the coffee table.

"Now that everyone has decided to show up again-" Derek pointed a glare and Stella and Isaac- "lets go over the plan. Scott, Isaac and myself will enter through the side gates while Stiles and Stella are on look out in the car, if there's any change in surveillance footage, they let us know from the car. Any questions?"

"Why not spread out and try to go through different entrances?" Stella asked. If they were all to go through one entrance that would be blindingly obvious, especially if the hunters were planning an attack; they'd have all of them right in one place. "There's a clear entrance through the roof, there's only one guard up there for 20 minutes each hour so you've got a 40 minute time gap to get in and get out." She suggested.

"Because that's based on one or two snapshots of the roof. We've been watching and studying how to get in through this entrance for weeks, it's too much to risk trying a different entrance now." Derek explained, looking harshly at Stella as Isaac watched them both carefully.

"But what if you spread out? You and Isaac through the side entrance and Scott through the roof. There's more of a chance of getting in unnoticed than trying to all go in through one way." Stella fought calmly but firmly, not understanding why Derek was being so unfair; this was a glaringly obvious solution that he was ignoring.

"I said no! We decided on the side entrance and that is what we are sticking with, and that is final." He shut down straight away making Stiles and Scott share a look of confusion while Isaac stealthily made his way across the sofa and put his arm around Stella's shoulders, pulling her close to him to comfort her.

Stella leant more into his side and tucked her head on his shoulder, Isaac bending down to kiss her forehead and rock their bodies a little, then sitting back up straight once her scent was back to normal.

Derek knew he was being a little harsh, but he wasn't expecting Stella to just move straight on to Isaac of all people, one of his own betas. He waited for Stella to tell him to get off but when she sunk into his neck and almost curled her body around Isaac's, he nearly lost it. It should've been him that she was snuggling up to, but he messed that up when he told her she didn't mean anything to him.

So you're no different then? Her words rung in his ears the minute Isaac crooked his head and left a soft kiss in her hair, the hair he should've been kissing and would've been if he hadn't been such an ass.

"Isaac! If you don't mind gracing us with your attention, it would be most appreciated." He semi snapped at his beta, stirring both Isaac and Stella out of their little bubble and causing Isaac to bow his head a little at the Alpha tone Derek used. "If you wouldn't mind not gracing us with yours, that would be most appreciated." Stella retorted sarcastically in Isaac's defence. Scott and Stiles stayed surprisingly quiet as they watched the whole affair unwind; since the other three members of the pack were otherwise engaged, they all missed the look of realisation on Scott's face.

"Pay attention, this is important." Derek demanded. His voice came out calm and collected but his thoughts said otherwise. His blood was boiling with anger (at himself) and jealousy at Stella having the guts to date one of his betas right after they slept together. There wasn't even a rebound period!

The rest of the night was mostly smooth sailing, although when Derek and Isaac left to go back home, Derek had to clench his fists to stop himself from killing Isaac who was coated in Stella's scent after being wrapped around her for the whole night.

~~~~Four days later, two days after the mission had gone successfully.~~~~

"You want me to do what?" Stella asked Isaac who had called her out of the blue on a Saturday morning.

"Come to the loft, I need to show you something." He answered, making Stella sigh.

"Isaac can't it wait? And why the loft, just bring it here." Stella whined, really not liking the thought of having to leave her comfortable bed and risk running into Derek.

"No it can't! And it's too big to carry anywhere so get your booty out of bed and shuffle on down here, now." He complained, disconnecting the phone call immediately after so that Stella couldn't argue with him.

She let out a groan and flopped down on her pillow again, just as Stiles entered her room.

"Hey! I'm going round Scott's so call me if you need me." He told her, completely oblivious to her newly woken state.

"Okay, Isaac just called and said he wanted to show me something so I'm going to the loft." She told Stiles, getting up and dressed.

"Alright, have fun." He said, turning around and leaving shortly after. When Stella was ready, she left and drove to the loft. She knocked a few times and waited for Isaac to open the door, but was instead met with a reluctant looking Derek, the one person she was trying to avoid.

He let her in nonetheless and she stood in the section between the sofa and his bed, praying that Isaac would walk in any moment now to disperse the awkward silence growing between herself and Derek.

"You can sit down, if you want to." He offered, gesturing to the couch.

"I'm fine, Isaac should be here soon." She said innocently, but turned to look at Derek weirdly when the breath he exhaled sounded oddly like a rather aggressive growl.

"What is going on with you and Isaac anyway?" He tried to play off coolly. It didn't work. "Excuse me?" Stella asked, raising her eyebrows at the sudden question. "Don't give me that shit Stella, what's going on with the two of you? He is my beta, I have a right to know." He argued.

"Derek, nothing is going on between me and Isaac; even if there was you have no right to stick your nose into his business or mine. He's just a good friend that I get along well with in a purely platonic way, he understands what I'm going through. Not to mention the fact that I'm older than him, that would be a little weird considering he's Scott's friend and still in school." Stella explained, standing her ground and getting closer to Derek the more they argued.

"Really? You seemed a little more than comfortable with him at the pack meeting a few weeks ago." Derek said, using his height and build to his advantage to tower over Stella.

"Oh please, I'm like that with everyone. Except you." Stella sneered.

"Seriously, what is your problem with me? You were perfectly fine a few weeks ago!" Derek said, reminding them both of the night they spent together.

"I like you, you furry asshole!" Stella shouted, not being able to keep it contained any longer. "I like the way you roll your eyes when Scott gets caught in training for hiding in the same place all the time, I like the way you sigh when Stiles' rambling is beginning to get on your nerves, I like the way you didn't even hesitate to give Isaac a home when he had nowhere else to go; I like the way you didn't take advantage of me when I was drunk, I like the way your lips quirk upwards when Scott gets tackled by Isaac. I just like you, a lot; and I haven't felt this way about anyone else in a long time. And I get that you don't feel the same, so stop pestering me about my own life when you don't care!" Stella backed away a little bit and was preparing to leave through the loft door.

"I do feel the same, Stella. I really do. But I just can't do the whole relationship thing again, not after what's happened in the past, I don't want to loose you as well."

"Derek stop pretending. I'm not taking your excuses anymore!" She yelled at him, angry at the fact he couldn't just admit what he's truly feeling. Tears brimmed her eyeline as she turned to leave, swearing off him for good as she hauled the loft door open.

Derek grabbed her wrist out of nowhere and pulled her close to him. "I love you." He whispered like he was scared of the words, eyes filled with genuine love as he searched her face hopefully.

Stella tried to shove him off, still caught up in her anger, but she was no match for werewolf speed and strength. Derek pulled her back down the stairs and kissed her passionately, leaving no room for anymore arguments as he wound his arms around her waist tightly, pulling their bodies flush. Slowly she began to melt into it, shoulders untensing and arms wrapping around his neck; Derek didn't let their lips part for more than a few seconds at a time for air.

Things started to get a little more heated, one of Derek's hands travelling south as Stella reached one hand up and pulled at his hair, forgetting how much he actually liked that from the pleased purr that came out of his chest. Just when things were about to progress even further, the tension was shattered by a certain few pack members.

"I did it! I am the official matchmaker of the pack! Everyone bow down to my genius." Isaac waltzed in (none too quietly) and began throwing something in the air.

Derek had finally disconnected their lips at the sudden intrusion and tugged Stella behind him thinking it was danger, in actuality it was just one of his (very evidently) teenage betas.

"Isaac what the fuck are you throwing around?" He asked, irritated that he couldn't even have a minutes peace with Stella.

"Rose petals, not real ones obviously. They're far too expensive." Isaac mumbled the last part under his breath.

"What is that noise?" Stella asked from where she was squirreled away behind Derek's back.

"Oh god." He groaned. "It's Careless Whisper."

Cue Erica and Boyd entering the loft now with both of their phones hooked up to speakers playing Careless Whisper while Peter walked in after them, looking as smug as he possibly could. Derek released his death grip on Stella and let her come next to him (still tucking her under his arm, for complete and total safety reasons, of course. It totally wasn't because she used the perfume he liked today, no way) so that they could share a wtf look with each other at the sight of the pack.

As if that wasn't enough embarrassment, Scott and Stiles walked in next and laughed at the sight in front of them.

"Now that all is right in the Hale pack, get a room and hook up!" Isaac exclaimed over the music.

Peter and Scott shared a look with each other. "I believe, dear Isaac, that was step one." Peter said, sounding just as smug as he looked.

Stiles looked up with an indescribable expression on his face, eyes flicking between Stella, Derek, Scott and Peter.

"You did what with who now?"

Part 3

#randomperson351 #derek hale #derek hale x female oc #derek hale slight angst #derek hale fluff #happy ending #brief isaac lahey #brief stiles stilinski #brief scott mcall #brief erica reyes #brief vernon boyd #brif peter hale #bittersweet part 2 #do not repost #background erica reyes x vernon boyd

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years ago

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The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think.

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry.

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow.

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street.

“You are mad, and we need to talk.”

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.”

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car.

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name.

Today she was not going to cry.

At least not on purpose.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes.

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.”

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.”

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry.

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses.

“Not a problem. I was in the way.”

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner.

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night.

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it.

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen.

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse.

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult.

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed.

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.”

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.”

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy.

“It’s okay. I’m ready.”

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator.

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time.

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever.

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die.

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life.

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest.

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor.

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden.

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?”

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office.

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.”

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering..

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?”

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?”

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee.

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.”

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.”

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain.

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.”

“She’s relentless.”

“Maybe you’re impossible?”

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?”

“I got you, boss.”

“Thanks.”

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before.

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all.

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science.

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation.

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease.

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life.

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk.

“About what?”

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?”

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.”

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?”

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely.

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate.

“I have someone I want you to meet with.”

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.”

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.”

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now.

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.”

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting.

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.”

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side.

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.”

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating.

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three.

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.”

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow.

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it.

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful.

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top.

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?”

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.”

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look.

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.”

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile.

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.”

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

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