#maybe i see a green light flashing in my favorite movie that screams coming of age because theres a giant green spotlight flashing in me
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broke-on-books · 2 years ago
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My fuckin apologies to everyone who had that monster of a post dropped on them this fine Friday. I will now proceed to take a shower and plan for tomorrow like a responsible person and pretend my whole world has not being totally wonderfully shattered and rush off to watch a kids movie from 1979 like I truly desire to
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ashintheairlikesnow · 4 years ago
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*busts in the door* ANTONI SUFFERING PROMPTS? may I offer any combo of 8: pour salt in my muse’s wound(s), 5: drug my muse, and/or 23: trip my muse for my favorite ashtray 😍
One Two Three Four Five
CW: Burns, salt in wound, cigarette smoking, internal and external dehumanization, pet whump, emeto mention
"Sssshhhh." His whimpers have gotten too loud again, and there's a hand in his hair, rough petting that feels more like another kind of violence, opening new wounds. It's Quiet One crouched in front of him, head tilted, eyes sparkling in the graying darkness as dawn comes closer and closer. "Hold still. There we go. Good boy."
A shiver of pleasure runs down his spine, the simple pure sense of doing what he is trained to do, made to do. Made for, what he wanted, to make up for whatever sins are buried deep inside his ruined memory.
"How do you know all this shit, anyway? Not just the movie. They didn't get into half this shit in the movie." Deep-Voice is back in the wrecked kitchen, going through cabinets with doors that hang off broken hinges.
The ashtray is in what was the living room, his hands tied behind him with his own t-shirt, ripped to long strips. He's sweating, even in the chilly empty room, sitting up but slumped over. They've tied one bit of his shirt around his neck with a little bow.
A droplet of sweat runs down his collarbone, dips over his chest, finds a new burn and the ashtray hisses, biting on his lower lip to kill the sound until he feels blood burst free of him again. How many times has he bitten his lip tonight?
Lookout sits over by the front door, miraculously still intact right down to its frosted glass panels. He keeps looking outside and then back, chain-smoking, one cigarette after another even after his face seems green around the edges. There are five from him, five new circles of pain for the ashtray to focus on.
Three with his eyes sparkling, two with a growing uncertainty. Then Lookout went and threw up outside in the bushes someone had once carefully landscaped along the front of the house. He had to be convinced to stop panicking over DNA, Quiet One had to lecture him on not listening to the fucking true crime podcasts any longer.
They're not gonna test your goddamn puke, asshole. Besides, does that look like somebody who's gonna call a fucking detective? Get back in here.
Now Lookout sits by the door, and the butts of the cigarettes he has already finished lay scattered around his shoes.
"My uncle," Quiet One says, using the ashtray's hair to lift his head again, looking over the glazed, empty obedience written alongside the suffering, worn openly on his face. "Works for WRU. They're not supposed to talk about it, sign like the world's most ironclad NDA, but he tells me stories sometimes."
"Ron?" That's Lookout, voice shaking. He looks like he wants to throw up again. The ashtray blinks at him, dazedly. How can he look sick when the ashtray is the one whose skin is burning for his crimes? "Ron works for-"
"Hey! What the fuck did I say about names?" Quiet One rolls his eyes. Deep Voice comes back in, shoes crunching on glass and rocks and bits of crumpled paper and everything else that's been dragged in here over time. He crouches next to Quiet One, holding out a thick cylindrical... something.
The ashtray's eyes can't focus enough to understand.
"Look what I found," Deep Voice says, softly.
Quiet One grins. "Oh, yeah. Do it, man."
Deep Voice flips open a little metal thing along the cylinder's lid, and the ashtray's eyebrows furrow, confused. His thoughts move slowly, fighting through deep water.
He realizes what it is just as Deep Voice tips the canister of salt and pours it over the new constellation they've made on his stomach, reaching out with his other hand to rub circles, pressing the grit deeply into the burns.
The ashtray's back arches, every muscle locked, choked sounds coming from a throat that won't open enough for a scream. Quiet One keeps a hand in his hair to hold him still, watching with bright avid eyes, glittering with fascination as he looks at the veins in the ashtray's neck standing out, the blood smeared along his chin from his lower lip.
"Jesus Christ," Quiet One says, softly. "You're fucking gorgeous, buddy, you know that?"
"What if he gets, like, infected from this?" Lookout asks, hands shaking so hard he drops the lighter when he tries to light up again. "And like. Dies?"
"What if he does?" Quiet One shrugs one shoulder. "Sucks to be him, then, I guess." His eyes move over the ashtray's face, watching with intensity as Deep Voice pours salt on another set of burns, listening to the ashtray's hitched sobs, watching the tears track through dirt down his cheeks. "Fuck, man. Those cheekbones. I can see why some old fucking perv wanted you."
It wasn't for his cheekbones. The ashtray would tell them if he could remember how to speak. It was for his crimes, it was because he had done something so terrible he would give anything to escape it. It was because he had to pay for what he'd done. It was because-
Abruptly, Quiet One lets go of his hair, letting his head fall back down, chin nearly to his chest. "Hey. Get over here with the lighter, man."
"Why?"
"I want to do one more. I'm tired, I want to go to bed. Come on."
The ashtray catches Lookout's soft oh thank god as he gets to his feet and shuffles over, dropping the pack of cigarettes and the lighter into Quiet One's waiting hands.
"What the fuck, dude?"
"What?"
"You smoked like the whole damn pack! This shit costs money, you fucking baby."
"Fuck off, I'll buy you more. Just. Finish it up, I want to go home, too." Lookout looks away, out the broken windows towards the street. "People're gonna be fucking waking up soon. Let's get out of here."
"Yeah, yeah. Asshole."
Quiet One turns back to him, using one finger to tip his chin up, almost gently. The ashtray looks back at him, blank but for the pain. It fills his body, the throb of each individual new mark joining the itching aches of the old. The oldest scars are so faint they hardly mar his skin, the newest are bright red burns, skin buckling and bubbling under heat it isn't made to withstand.
"Pozhaluysta," He whispers, lips barely moving. "Pozhaluysta, Mr. Davies, ostanovites'."
"Mmmn. That's Russian, isn't it? Sexy. One more, pet. Think you can handle one more burn for me? Take it quiet and we'll leave. Can you do that for me?"
The ashtray nods, frantically, in desperate need for it to end. He can go back to his room, with the bars on the windows, and sing himself to sleep. He can go back to his room.
"Good boy."
The ashtray stares at the little red circle of light as the cigarette is lit, the flickering flame. The click of the lighter as it shuts again, the smoke blown into his face. Familiar and wrong, this smoke is bitter and acrid and Mr. Davies always smelled sweet and almost herbal when he smoked, the deep clove smell in the ashtray's clothes, his hair, lingering on his skin.
They untie his hands from behind his back and the bow from his neck, Quiet One rubbing at the deep red marks left behind, thumb moving back and forth over the ashtray's Adam's apple, breathing softly. "Shit. God, I wish I had one of these for mine."
"Well, unless you discover a shitload of money, you'd just be stealing. Or... like, committing a bunch of fucking felonies."
"Yeah, yeah. If I clean up a bit I bet my uncle could get me in at WRU. I heard they have a handler there who fucking killed like four people before he got the job."
"Jesus Christ, dude, seriously?"
"Yeah. Peters or something. My uncle doesn't fuck with him. Nobody does. Said he's fucking gross but he gets Employee of the Month like all the time. I could be gross for money."
"Man, who wouldn't be gross for money."
"Ha, right? All right, let's finish this shit up." Quiet One sighs, looking back at the ashtray. "You were a good fucking time, man. Enjoyed the hell out of this. Here we go. Stay quiet for me now."
Quiet One presses the cigarette into the inside of the ashtray's wrist, right in the center of his barcode, the one place that Mr. Davies never touched.
The ashtray bites his lip until it bleeds, whining deep in his throat as new tears fall, but he doesn't scream. He's quiet.
He's good.
He can be good.
"There we go." A ruffle to his hair and Quiet One stands, Deep Voice following almost immediately. Quiet One relights his cigarette and walks to the door, where Lookout moves outside before them.
Quiet One is the last to leave, looking over his shoulder at the ashtray still sitting on the ground, slumped over, in the ruined house. He lifts up his cell phone, turns on flash, and takes a photo.
The ashtray flinches at a sudden blinding light he barely registers as what it is, and Quiet One and Deep Voice laugh.
Lookout is already out by the street, bouncing on his toes, looking back and forth like he expects sirens any second.
"Maybe we'll see you again sometime," Quiet One says, and then they leave, their voices and laughter fading along with the crunch of gravel under their shoes, until the only sound left is the ashtray's ragged, uneven breathing.
He doesn't know when he gets to his feet, or how. He pulls the sweatshirt back on and leaves the shreds of his t-shirt behind. The front door is open, and when he stumbles outside, the sky is pink along the edges of the horizon.
The ashtray moves down the sidewalk, and he doesn't know where he's going, or what he'll do when he gets there.
He ends up standing, swaying a little, next to a stop sign in a place that looks familiar but he doesn't know at all. The pre-dawn light has everything slightly eerie and unsettled in his mind, shapes crashing into each other, puzzle pieces that don't quite fit.
A hand touches his back and he spins around with a gasp, staring down in terror at a short elderly woman with dark brown skin and thick hair a blend of silvery white and black pulled no-nonsense at the nape of her neck.
She looks up at him, her own eyebrows knitted. "I said good morning. Did you hear-" She goes quiet, and her eyes move over his face with too much understanding.
She knows.
Everyone knows what he is. Everyone has always known. It was a mistake to believe he could be safe anywhere outside the four walls of Nat's home. It was a mistake to think he could build a life that might involve leaving here, living on his own.
Everyone will always know.
Antoni swallows, and shudders as it makes the fresh burn on his throat ache and throb in reminder. He struggles to move his mouth to speak. "M-... Miss Ruth. D-Dobroye utro."
He realizes only then that his sweatshirt is still unzipped, and she can see the line of scars, the new burns and old, and heat rushes to his cheeks underneath the dirt already caking them.
"Oh, honey. What happened to you?" Ruth's voice is low, and she looks to one side, and then the other. Then she sighs and steps back, gesturing. "Come on inside my house, sweetheart. Just me this week, no one else to bother us. Let me patch you up, your people are still sleeping no doubt."
His people.
He is safe with his people, inside the house. But he has never been safe when he leaves. It is too easy to read what he is in every inch of his skin.
"Spasibo," He whispers as he follows her up the steps.
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cherryyharryy · 4 years ago
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i have an idea for a request (it’s totally ok if you don’t want to do it) like an angst-> fluff where one of harry’s songs accidentally gets leaked bc of y/n like she has something on a flash drive and the song is on another and they get mixed up and obviously he’s really mad at y/n and they have a fight he’s super snappy with her but something happens to her like she gets into a really big accidental or something and he forgives her bc he cares about her more tha the leaked song
WC: 2.7k
***
Damage control wasn’t even an option. 
Y/n sat there, staring at Harry’s laptop, numb to everything except the blaring desire to go back in time just two minutes. Two minutes is all she would need to undo possibly the biggest screwup of her life.
And the worst part is that this mistake ultimately doesn’t affect her. At least not in comparison to how it will affect Harry. And his band. And his team. Basically everyone involved with his career. 
Her mind is equally begging for her to shut down and come up with a plan—an excuse—something, Is there anyway this wasn’t my fault?  
She checks the time, her heart sinking to her stomach when she realizes Harry and his team will be back any minute. Any minute and she’s done for.
They’ve only been together for five months, officially. She’s still new to most everyone. She’s that girl Harry’s dating.
“I told you he played in that movie.” Jeff’s voice echoes outside the studio. Y/n closes the laptop and prays for strength. 
“I have him confused with someone else.” Harry bustles through the door, a small crowd of people filing in behind him, back to the spots they left an hour ago. “Hey darling,” he greets, “finish your paper?”
Y/n’s frozen, morbidly wishing he had found out about his song leaking on his own so she wouldn’t have to tell him. “Uh, almost.”
He kisses the top of her head and hands her a cup of frozen yogurt. “Your favorite.” 
“Thanks.” She sets it on the table she’s sat at while Harry pulls up a chair beside her. “Aren’t you guys still working?”
He waves in the direction of his band, “Mitch’s gotta fix his guitar.” He snickers, and slides his laptop out from under y/n’s hands. “Had a bit of an accident in the car.” 
Y/n’s head tingles with what must be nerve damage, her place in this world, her place in this room, decreasing in value as Harry opens his computer.
“It’s gonna melt.” He nods to her yogurt.
“I’m not hungry.”
He furrows his brow. “You alright?”
“Mhm.” She looks around the room, everyone busy getting back to work, light chatter passing among them. “Uh, actually, I uh, I have to tell you something.” Y/n tries to swallow the lump in her throat with no luck.
“Okay…” He shuts the laptop and gives her his full attention.
“Okay, um—”
“What the fuck!?” The room freezes as everyone turns toward Jeff. “Harry someone’s got a hold of your song!” 
Harry scrambles to his manager, complete shock on his face as they both stare down at Jeff’s phone. “Fuck.” They start to play a video, the sound of a girl screaming, with Harry’s unconsented voice playing in the background, fills the room. “How the hell did this happen?” He’s gritting through his teeth, neck red, veins bulging in his hands as he rips the phone out of Jeff’s hand. “HOW? Someone answer me!”
Y/N considers keeping quiet. Playing innocent. What good will it do to confess anyway? It’s not like it’ll undo what she’s done.
Sarah chimes in from across the room, “It looks like it happened half an hour ago. That’s when this video I’m looking at was posted.”
Y/n’s staring down at her lap, holding her head up with her fingers pressed into her temples when Harry slings himself back into the chair next to her.
“All that work, all that fucking work,” he nearly growls, “for some cunt to spread my unfinished song around for a buck.”
Y/n peers up to the room, a completely different picture compared to five minutes ago. Now there’s talk of lawyers and pressing charges while everyone shuffles around. Jeff slams the door as he steps out with his phone to his ear, and y/n knows she can’t claim denial, it’ll only make things worse.
“Uh, Harry?”
“What is it?” He doesn’t look at her, eyes glaring at his phone while another video plays of a group of people reacting to his song. “Glad they fucking like it.”
“Harry?”
“What, y/n?”
She shrinks under his gaze, mouth dry as she forces her confession out. “I uh, this is all my fault.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m so, so sorry. And I’ll do anything—I know I can’t fix it—but...”
Harry’s tongue presses against the inside of his cheek, his eyes narrowing in on her as a morbid silence forms a little bubble around them. “Go on,” he whispers with grit, “finish what you were gonna say.”
She stutters, desperately trying to figure him out. “I’m just sorry. It was an accident.”
“An accident? How did you even manage to do this?”
“I—”
“Do you have any idea what this accident means, y/n?”
She reluctantly shakes her head no.
“How the fuck did you do this?”
“I—I don’t know...I was taking a break from my paper, and, I don’t know Harry.” She’s in tears now, warm and salty as they spill down her cheeks. Her mouth wobbles around another apology, but no sounds make it out.
“Fix it.”
“What?”
He stands up, yanking his laptop off the table, pausing to glare at her one last time. “I said, to fix it.” With that he storms across the room, slinging the door open just as Jeff reenters.
“Harry, your attorney—”
“Forget it.” He turns around and points his phone towards y/n silently sobbing in the corner. “She’s gonna handle it.” He takes one step out into the hall and stops, spinning on his heels to face the studio. “Don’t speak to me until you do.”
Mitch’s guitar that was fixed and propped against the wall, crashes to the floor when Harry slams the door. 
Chatter passes around the room one more time, only now everyone seems to be in agreeance—that girl never should have been allowed in the studio, and maybe, Harry should break up with her.
***
Early morning rain fell outside Harry’s apartment. It was still dark, street lamps burning through the fog in the city below. His home fills with coffee as he pours his fifth cup; the prior four never offering more than a few sips before he had abandoned them somewhere, the counter, mantle, bookshelf, because he can’t talk without his hands.
Y/n sits on his couch. It’s velvet and pink and too big for one person. She hated it the first time he invited her over. If he breaks up with her, she’s going to tell him how ugly it is.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do.” She’s exhausted. She hadn’t hesitated to drive over when he finally responded to one of her hundreds of texts in the week since the mishap. But now she regrets it. They’ve been going in circles with the same argument for the past four hours. She’s convinced he invited her over just to be mean. She sighs, rubbing her temples. “I said I was sorry. You know that I’m sorry. And you know that I never, ever in a million years, would have done something like this on purpose.”
“I’m allowed to be angry with you. I have every right to be.”
“Do you, though?” She straightens up on his ugly couch and looks at him leaning against the doorframe that leads into the kitchen. “Aren’t you a little tired of hating me? God Harry, everyone else in the whole world has moved on except you.”
“It’s not everyone else’s song, is it? It’s not everyone else’s months and months of hard work. It’s not everyone else’s unfinished art? Nobody else is having to deal with a girlfriend that is so careless, so thoughtless, that she actually managed to leak my song!”
“Stop raising your voice at me!”
“You had no business snooping around my computer anyway! I told you you could work on your fucking paper, not to go prying around my personal shit!”
“You know what,” she scoffs, shooting up off the couch, “this argument is so pointless. You didn’t want me here so we could talk. You just wanted to torture me because you’re mad that people don’t love your stupid song.”
“What the fuck did you say?”
She brushes his shoulder as she passes by him, and a drip of his coffee spills onto his hand. He curses, and follows her into the kitchen where he lays his final cup down on the island.
“You’re being a baby because people aren’t fawning over you like they usually do.” She shrugs and slings her bag over her shoulder. “It’s not your best song, Harry.”
The veins in his neck strain against his flaming skin. His cheeks are sucked in, and if he bites down on the skin any harder he’ll puncture his face. “Get the fuck out.”
“I was already leaving, dumb ass.” She strides by him once more, practically feeling the heat steaming off his body. When she gets to the front door, she pauses with her hand on the knob. “Your couch is hideous, by the way. Just because you’re rich doesn’t mean you have to buy shitty looking stuff.”
When she slams the door behind her, the apartment shakes, and cold coffee spills from each cup.
***
It’s nearing five a.m. when y/n backs out of the complex. Her wipers race across the windshield, but do nothing against the downpour wreaking havoc in the city. She does her best to stay on what she assumes is her side of the road, swerving to the right each time headlights blind her.
“Shit.” Nothing is open, and she can’t even see where it would be safe to pull over to let the rain pass. But her home isn’t that far, and traffic isn’t too bad. 
She comes to a stop at a red light, only to realize she missed a left turn she should’ve made a minute ago. “Damn it. Fucking hell.”
As soon as the light turns green, she spins the wheel to make a U-turn, and if it hadn’t been for the rain, and her own clouded mind, and Harry’s voice echoing in her ears, she might have seen the truck who didn’t even try to avoid her.
***
It’s the headache from hell that wakes her up. And it’s the sterile smell of hospital that jogs her memory. And it’s a nurse not much older than y/n that says something about you’re lucky to be alive. 
She’s poked and prodded and asked a thousand questions before her IV is adjusted and a pill to ease one of the many pains scratching her body is handed to her in a small plastic cup. A police officer repeats half of this process, and somewhere in the mess of her reality, she learns that the other driver was sending a text to his wife when he plowed into her car. He’s at home and she’s here. Lucky to be alive.
She made calls to her mom and friends, and even managed to type out a decent email to her professors for her upcoming absence in class.
When she automatically pulled up Harry’s name on her phone, the last text he sent, the one inviting her over so he could make her more miserable than she already was, sat there in all its taunting glory.
What is she even supposed to say? Hey, I know you hate my existence right now, but I’m lying here in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around my head. It’d be cool if you stopped by.
It’s not long before the sun pops up and reminds y/n of just how early it is. The clouds part, and it’s like it had never even rained, like it had never even been dark for hours, and if she closes her eyes, y/n can pretend that the past week hadn’t even happened.
***
 “How are you feeling today?” The nurse checks y/n’s IV, humming after her question.
“Just sore. Ready to get out of here.”
“We’ve started the paperwork, so shouldn’t be too long. Who’s coming to get you?”
Y/n blinks, feeling stupid she hadn’t thought this far ahead. She doesn’t even have a car anymore. The nurse looks over the computer monitor, waiting for a response.
“Uh, my friend.”
“Awesome. Dr. Kirby has to come check on you one last time before you leave. I’ll go see if he can stop by now, if you want to let your friend know.”
As soon as the nurse is out the door, y/n scrambles to turn her phone back on, and once it is, her lock screen is filled with missed calls and unanswered texts.
She’ll respond later; gives her something to do in the car to occupy her in front of Harry. 
She can’t call him. Harry’s not a monster, although the past week doesn’t exactly prove her case, but she knows he wouldn’t refuse to come get her. If anything, he’ll be annoyed she didn’t tell him about the accident sooner. But she’s too emotional to deal with hearing his voice.
She types out a text recounting her last 24 hours, along with the name of the hospital. He immediately reads it, and a moment later he’s trying to call.
To: Harry
I’m too tired to talk rn
She lies. And it works.
From: Harry
I’ll be there as fast as i can
***
“Baby?”
Y/n cracks her eyes open, irritated she never quite fell asleep. Confused as to why Harry’s calling her baby. Angry that she cares. And the next words out of his mouth are ones she’d been predicting.
“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve dropped everything. You’ve been here all alone, shit. Are you okay? What hurts?”
He’s hovering over her, fidgeting, unsure if he can touch her.
“I’m fine now. Just sore. And tired.”
“Fuck I can’t believe this, I—”
“The doctor already said I can go. I’m not allowed to walk out on my own, so, you need to let the nurse know you’re here. She’ll take me down in a wheelchair.”
“Baby I’m so sorry-”
“No, Harry. You would still be busy hating my guts right now—”
“Hate you? I don’t hate you?”
“Well you did a great job this week making me feel otherwise.”
Harry sighs, gripping the bed frame and dropping his chin to his chest. When he looks back up he has tears brimming his eyes. “I’m sorry,” his voice cracks. “I know I’ve been an ass this week. I—you were right. I took out my anger from no one lovin’ the song on you.”
“Well it’s not no one. A lot of people did. And it’s unfinished anyway. You wouldn’t enjoy a meal if it was only cooked halfway.”
He nods, but y/n knows he’s only accepting her words because of the situation.
“You mean so much more to me than a leaked song. I’m sorry I treated you like shit. And that I—I made you think I hated you. You have every right to hate me.”
“You annoy the hell out of me, but I don’t hate you.”
His lips twitch, but a few tears slide down his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” She takes his hand off the rail and smoothes her thumb across his knuckles. “You can make it up to me by getting me out of here.”
“I can do that.” He kisses the top of her head and hits the remote to call for the nurse.
“You can really kiss me, y’know. I’m not gonna break.”
He’s hesitant, but slowly lowers his head to press his lips to hers. He’s timid, and his lips are still damp from tears, but it’s more relieving than either of them would ever admit.
The nurse ends their moment when she pops in the room, pushing a wheelchair in front of her. “Hi, you must be y/n’s friend.”
“Friend?” He peers down at y/n, suggestion lacing the word. “Care to explain?”
“Not really, I’m so tired.”
“Mhm.” He clicks his tongue, supporting her arm as she swings her legs off the bed. Once she’s standing and steady, he tucks her hair behind her ear and bends down so his mouth can graze her lobe. “Since we’re just friends, I guess you’ll have to sleep on my ugly couch.”
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kanerallels · 3 years ago
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Ok ok eeee!!! I'm so excited! Okay, how about a Kanera princess and the frog au?! I was thinking the scene where they turn into frogs (or should it be lothcats?) Aka when she has to kiss him and then the line "how did I get down here, and how did you get all the way up there?" Until they have to fly away on ballons at the party? (Maybe Chopper can be the dog and Hera's just like "My dog just talked?!") Lol I'm so excited cause I know how good you are at AUs, congrats on 111!!😍
Heck yes my favorite Disney movie let's GO!!!!
Pairing: Hera Syndulla/Kanan Jarrus
Word Count: TBD, I'm on mobile
Tags/Warnings: G (for green. It's the green, it's the green, it's the green that Kanan needs...)
In the dressing room of her best friend’s bedroom, Hera changed out of her stained brown dress and slipped into the shimmering dark blue dress Omega had provided her with. In the other room, she could hear Omega chattering excitedly about the charming Jedi who’d shown up-- Kanan Jarrus, the apprentice of the deeply respected Depa Billaba. He’d swept Omega off her feet almost immediately, although from what Hera had heard, the young man had quite the reputation for such things.
Hera couldn’t focus on her friend’s words, though. In her mind, she could only replay the moment when she’d heard that she’d been outbid for the ship she was trying to buy. With it, she’d be free, to explore the galaxy by herself, not dependent on anyone.
But tonight, she’d gotten the news from the salesman himself-- they’d handed it off to someone with more money. She could still hear the man’s condescending words echoing in her ears-- a little woman of your… well, species, would have had her hands full trying to run a ship on her own. You’re best where you’re at.
Best where I’m at? Hera thought, frustration boiling through her veins. Working two jobs, sacrificing any semblance of fun or enjoyment just so she could save enough, scrimping and saving and making so many hard choices, and just when she thought she’d had a chance? It was all gone.
She stepped into the main bedroom as Omega was saying, “You know, I was starting to think that wishing on stars was just for babies, and crazy people.” She paused as Hera came into view, and a smile crossed her face. “Well, aren’t you just as pretty as a magnolia in May?” Taking a silver-and-blue headpiece from the chest of drawers in front of her, she brought it over and placed it on Hera’s head, saying, “Seems like only yesterday we were younger, dreaming our fairy tale dreams-- and tonight, they’re both coming true!”
Hera couldn’t bring herself to correct her friend, and Omega was so excited she didn’t even notice Hera’s silent demeanor. It was only seconds later that she swept back out into the party, leaving Hera alone in her room.
Reaching into the pocket of her stained dress, she pulled out the flimsi advertisement for a VCX-100 ship she’d found when she was little. Her mother had always encouraged her in this dream-- her father was a little more skeptical. Still, the memory of Eleni Syndulla holding her close as she excitedly talked about the ship she’d own one day was enough to make tears prickle in Hera’s eyes.
Moving out onto the balcony, she stared out at the Rylothian landscape, determined not to cry. But she’d been so close. So kriffing close, and she’d lost it all again. It was hard to imagine attempting this again, after how hard she’d work the first time-- and now she had to start over?
Releasing a shaky sigh, Hera blinked away her tears and lifted her gaze up to the sky. Her eyes landed on one of the stars-- the brightest one, that her mother had always told her and Omega stories about when they were little. A star you could make a wish upon, and it would always come true.
It was just a story for children. But in her current emotional state, Hera was about ready to believe anything.
Her gaze darted around the balcony. Finding it empty, Hera muttered, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.” All the same, she lifted her gaze to the star and internally made her wish. Please. Please.
She closed her eyes for just a moment, then opened them, knowing nothing had changed. Wishes only came true in stories. Hard work was the only thing that would ever get her anywhere.
As it turned out, something actually had changed. Hera’s gaze drifted to the left, and her eyes went wide at the sight of a frog perched there. She wasn’t exactly a fan of frogs, if she was being honest, although she had nothing personal against them.
Remembering one of the other stories her mother had told her and Omega, a small smile tugged at Hera’s lips. “So what now?” she said, directing the comment at the frog. “I suppose you want a kiss?”
“I’m not about to say no to it,” the frog said with a smirk.
Hera wasn’t exactly proud of how she reacted next. But coming face to face with a frog that sounded like a grown man who thought he was more charming than he actually was? That was too much for her. Letting out the closest sound to a scream she’d made in years, she stumbled backwards and crashed into a shelf full of Omega’s things.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” the frog said, hastily hopping towards her. “I didn’t mean to startle you--”
He cut himself off with a yelp as he leapt to avoid a book from Omega’s shelf. And then a holodisk. The tooka doll Hera threw actually hit him, although it didn’t make much of a difference. Leaning his forearms on it, he remarked, “You’ve got a strong arm, Princess.”
Hera responded by grabbing the vibroblade Omega’s brothers had given her, and the frog’s eyes widened. “Please don’t--”
He dove out of the way just in time as the knife embedded itself point first in the wooden floor, and jumped up on top of the chest of drawers. “Okay, I feel like we got off on the wrong foot. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Kanan Jarrus, Jedi--”
Hera slammed a cup she’d found over him, neatly trapping him. “--Knight,” he finished. “What the kriff?”
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Hera snapped. “How would you like me to react to a talking frog??” And then his words caught up with her. “Wait. Jedi Knight? If you’re the Jedi Knight, who’s that down there charming Omega?” she demanded, releasing the cup without thinking.
Kanan immediately shoved the cup off of him with a grunt, letting it roll free. “How would I know?” he pointed out. “All I know is one minute, I’m a dashing Jedi Knight, handsome, excellent dancer, I might add--” Hera rolled her eyes extensively-- “and then I’m stuck with these.” He thrust one webbed foot in her direction, wobbling towards her dangerously, and Hera grabbed a book nearby in defense.
“Wait!” Kanan all but shouted, his eyes going wide. “Wait, wait-- I know that story! The one with the frog who used to be a prince-- what’s it called…?”
“‘The Frog Prince’?” Hera deadpanned.
“Exactly!” Kanan waved for her to hand over the book, almost toppling over under the weight. He managed to get it settled against the mirror, and flipped it open. “I used to hear this story all the time in the Creche. This-- this is it! This is the solution!” Turning towards Hera, he said, “You-- must kiss me.”
“Excuse me??”
Moving to his feet, Kanan directed her a charming grin that probably worked on most women when they were not incredibly irritated by him, and he was also not a frog. “Oh, don’t worry, you’ll enjoy it. All women do.”
“That’s revolting,” Hera told him flatly.
“I doubt you’ll be saying that soon,” Kanan said, his grin widening as he leaned forward-- and then the sac under expanded out, and Hera jerked back in alarm. “That’s new,” he assured her.
“Look, I’m sorry,” Hera said, which was only mostly a lie, “I wish I could help you. But I don’t kiss frogs, and I certainly won’t kiss you.”
“Wha-- you literally asked me back on the balcony!” Kanan protested, the alarm on his face growing.
“It was sarcasm!” Hera snapped. “And I certainly didn’t expect you to answer. There’s absolutely no way I’m kissing you.”
“Come on-- look, not only am I incredibly good-looking, but I’m with the Jedi Order,” Kanan pointed out. “I can make sure you’re rewarded handsomely for this. Surely there’s gotta be something you want, some wish we could grant?”
Despite herself, Hera’s eyes flicked to the flimsi poster for the VCX-100 that had gone flying across the room in the kerfuffle. But this was stupid. It was just a ship, she didn’t need it that badly.
Yet even as she thought the words, she knew it wasn’t true. It was more than a ship for her, it was freedom. It was a dream she’d had for as long as she could remember. And if there was a way to attain it…
“Just one kiss?” she asked, wavering.
“Unless you beg for more,” Kanan said, smirking.
That decided it. If it was only to get rid of this pain in the neck, Hera would do it. “Deal,” she said, nodding.
The frog instantly puckered his lips, closing his eyes, and Hera reeled backwards. It was just… gross. The idea of pressing her lips against those of a decidedly slimy looking--
She pushed that thought out of her mind, replaced it with the image of the VCX she’d own after this, and lunged forward to kiss the frog.
The moment her lips met his, greenish light flashed over them, and Hera felt it engulf her. Everything went black.
She didn’t know how long later her eyes slid open, but when they did, she was enveloped with some kind of blue fabric. Shoving it off of her, she looked up and saw a wide-eyed Kanan staring down at her. Except he was still a frog.
“.......kriff,” he whispered.
Uncomprehending, Hera blinked hard. “You look remarkably like a frog. Still. Aren’t you supposed to be handsome? But why are you up there? And what am I doing down here, with all this--”
She glanced down at the pool of fabric, seeing the green of her skin against it. But there was something different about it. Something off with the texture and the feeling of it.
Also, she was missing a finger.
Hera jerked to the side and caught sight of herself in a mirror. The face of a frog stared back, and she let out an undignified shriek. “What--” With a leap that was entirely instinct, she flew to the top of the dresser and crashed into Kanan, bowling him over. “What did you do to me?” she demanded, staggering to her feet.
“Easy-- don’t panic,” Kanan attempted to calm her. “It’s not so bad.”
“YOU TURNED ME INTO A FROG! WHAT PART OF THAT ISN’T BAD? I’M COVERED IN SLIME!”
Catching hold of her hand, Kanan said soothingly, “No, no-- it’s not slime. You’re secreting mucus.”
That was the last straw for Hera. She narrowed her eyes in a death glare at Kanan, and his eyes went wide just as she tackled him across the room. They crashed into a cushioned stool, bouncing up, slamming against a shelf, then down again and landing on a precariously balanced sniper rifle of Omega’s. Before Hera could act on the many threats she had boiling in her head, a book toppled off the shelf and landed on one end of the rifle, catapulting both her and Kanan out of the room, over the balcony and into the party below.
They plummeted towards the band below, landing on the drums. The drummer, a big male Togruta, instantly went after them with his drumsticks as they both dove away from him and attempted to make a break for it.
Hera heard the other band members start a faster song to match the renewed tempo as she and Kanan went flying through the air and landed on the nearest person. Unfortunately, it happened to be Omega. And it was less landing then falling down the back of her dress.
She started hopping around frantically with yelps of shock. As they were jolted around, Kanan remarked, “You know, for a costume ball, you’d think they’d be a little more welcoming!”
“This is not the time for jokes,” Hera snarled.
As Omega toppled over, the two of them managed to escape out of her voluminous hoop skirt, just in time to hear Hunter, Omega’s father figure/brother, shout, “CHOPPER! GET THE FROGS!”
Karabast. Hera caught sight of Chopper-- the tame vornskr that Hera had befriended-- jerk his head up, then bolt towards them. Next to her, Kanan grabbed her hand. “Run!”
As he leapt from the skirt to the nearby buffet table, flying past the shocked Kanan-lookalike, Hera snapped, “I can’t run, I’m a frog, thanks to you!”
“Then hop!” They landed on the buffet table, Hera almost slipping off the edge. Kanan hauled her up quickly and the two of them started hopping frantically down the table as Chopper came flying after them, scrabbling at the tablecloth. “Down!” Kanan shouted. “Down, you kriffing monster dog!”
Chopper did not listen, partially because he was not a dog, and partially because he was Chopper. Kanan and Hera kept going-- straight towards a pair of guests. One of them brandished a fake sword that looked a little too sharp, and swung at them viciously. At the exact same time, the man next to him, wearing a boga hat, ducked, and the sword severed the top of the hat. The hat dropped on top of Kanan and Hera, effectively covering their vision.
The next few minutes were a haze of chaos-- shouting and yelling and a lot of running. Finally, the boga hat came off of them, and both Kanan and Hera went flying forward, tangling in the strings of a bundle of balloons.
Hera frantically tried to disentangle herself as she spotted Chopper still charging towards them. “Wait! Chopper!” she shouted.
Kanan had other ideas. Grabbing the string of balloons, he jerked them free. “Going up!”
As the balloons zipped up into the air, Chopper lunged for them, and Hera shouted, “Chopper, it’s me, Hera!”
“Hera?” the vornskr gasped.
Before Hera could react to that, Chopper plummeted back to the ground, and they continued upwards.
“Chopper just talked,” Hera managed as Kanan grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up so she could grab onto some of the balloons. “The vornskr talked.”
His voice irritated, Kanan said, “You know, if you’re going to let every little thing bother you, this is going to be an even longer night!”
As they flew away from the party, Hera shot Kanan an unseen glare. The sooner she got away from this pain in the neck, the better. She had a bad feeling that wasn’t going to go as well as she hoped, though.
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cuquitalocita · 4 years ago
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all you do is pine- percabeth
AN: i didn’t really like the ending to this one but i wrote something finally! also i just love modern percabeth can’t you tell? 
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~~
“Uh… five?” Annabeth throws her pencil down in frustration, the sound echoing around the almost silent library. Across from her, Rachel bites her lip to keep from laughing and the look Annabeth sends her has the girl pulling Annabeth’s paper to her side of the table. 
“Ah, I see what you did. That’s a six A, not a nine.” Annabeth glares at the red ink now covering her paper and curses her dyslexia for making college so much more difficult than it should be. Annabeth had handled high school just fine, moving across the country a few times, but other than that, no issues. But freshman year of college was kicking her ass. 
“How am I supposed to pass this class if I can’t even read the problem correctly, to begin with?” Annabeth complains. The heads of her friends at the tables around her turned to her, offering sympathetic glances saying they understood how awful their dyslexia could be. 
“Maybe you can just light Professor Brunner’s classroom on fire,” Leo supplies from where he sits next to Calypso doing physics homework. His girlfriend slaps the back of his head.
“That’s arson, Leo,” she reminds him. 
“So what?”
“So it’s illegal, genius.” The voice of her best friend has Annabeth sitting straighter and Percy drops into the seat next to her, looking perfect as ever with his messy black hair and green eyes. “Last I checked you can’t vandalize a classroom.”
“How would you know Jackson?” Annabeth pipes up. “If I remember correctly, senior year of high school you vandalized Mrs. Dodd’s room.” Percy grinned at her, the memory flashing through his eyes, and the two burst into laughter. 
If there was anything that made college easier, it was having her best friend next to her to suffer through it all with her. She and Percy had grown up together, living in the same neighborhood since middle school and being best friends ever since. Annabeth couldn’t be more grateful that they both managed to get into the same college.
She just wishes she wasn’t in love with him.
Never in a million years could Annabeth have predicted she would fall for her annoying, clueless neighbor. Yet here she was- hopeless. 
Annabeth turns, sticking her nose back into her math textbook to keep him from seeing the red that now dots her cheeks. She catches Piper’s eye from the table next to her and the girl raises a brow. Annabeth shoots her a warning look and Piper sighs audibly.
“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I’m over this. I’ve gotta meet Jace for date night- so see you around losers.” Piper leaves Annabeth with a knowing pinch of her shoulder and she grips her pencil tighter.
“We’re out too,” Leo and Calypso say grabbing their bags and standing up. “Date night waits for no one.” The library quiets down until it’s just Rachel, Percy, and Annabeth. Annabeth glances up to see Rachel and Percy looking at each other, a meaningful look in both of their eyes as if silently speaking to each other, just like she and Percy often did themselves. 
Annabeth bites down on her jealousy. 
“Oh gods,” Rachel mutters. “I’m late to tutor Octavian.” All three of them visibly grimace at the mention of the blonde idiot and Rachel scurries out of the library.
“Well,” Percy sighs. “Looks like it’s just us again Wise Girl.”
“What’s changed?” She smiles down at her paper. At that moment a text appears on her phone from Hazel.
>> Hey, can’t make movie night tonight, Frank just surprised me with dinner and a movie!!
>> Aw, that’s so sweet :) No issues, next time for sure
Annabeth groans and places her phone down. Percy shoots her a questioning look from behind his laptop screen. 
“There go my plans for tonight. Hazel’s out.” Annabeth glances at the clock, figuring it was time to return to the apartment she shared with Piper to finish up some homework. 
“Hey, why don’t we do something?” Percy’s voice is awkward when he asks and Annabeth can’t help but think how he sounds just like he did when he was twelve. She turned to him, her curls bouncing in her ponytail behind her. “We haven’t had a movie night since this semester started. Everyone’s out on date’s so let’s have a friend’s date. We can even order takeout.” Percy levels her with a kind smile and Annabeth tried not to melt on the spot. 
“I’d love to Percy, I really would. But this project is kicking my ass and-”
“Come on, Annabeth,” he whined. “Pleeeeeeeeease? I’ll even fight the spiders in your apartment for you.” Annabeth’s resolve had cracked at please but she smiled anyway. 
She rolls her eyes affectionately, hoping this wasn’t a mistake.
“Come over at six, Seaweed Brain. And don’t even think about coming without food.”
~~
Percy shows up late, unsurprisingly, and Annabeth is in front of the TV with a physics textbook in her lap when he walks in sporting the key to her apartment she had given him months ago. 
Annabeth opens her mouth with a quick insult but Percy cuts her off.
“Before you say anything about me being late- I brought you pretzels.” A box of chocolate-covered pretzels falls into her lap a moment later and Percy collapses onto the couch next to her soon after. Annabeth tries her hardest not to lean into him or inhale his scent. It’s easy to think that seawater would smell disgusting. Like seaweed and dead fish. But Percy’s always made it smell good.
“So what are we watching?” Percy asks as Annabeth flips her page. Before she can grab her pencil again, Percy’s hand is over hers, ripping it away and chucking it across the room. Annabeth gapes at him.
“What the hell, Percy? I was using that.” Percy shrugs, opening a bag of popcorn he brought and shoving some in his mouth. 
“Not anymore you’re not. Movie night, Wise Girl. Remember?” Annabeth arches a brow and a slice of satisfaction courses through her as he turns a slight shade of gray in nervousness.
“You do realize I’m a forensic science major right?” That as well as architecture. “I could kill you and hide the evidence. No one would ever find the body.” Percy grins, visibly relieved that she’s joking, and relaxes his shoulders. He grabs her textbook from her lap and places it on the ground, grabbing her hand that held the pencil and lacing his fingers through hers instead.
Annabeth shoots him a questioning look and pushes down the blush that’s threatening to pour over her cheeks. 
“Gotta make sure you don’t grab that pencil again.” Percy shrugs, putting their hands on his lap as he turns his attention back to the television. At this point, Annabeth is trying her hardest not to combust. So instead she rolls her eyes and puts on Finding Nemo, Percy’s favorite movie. With as much as Annabeth claims to hate it, the way Percy voices each of the characters every time he watches it makes her laugh. 
Percy doesn’t say anything as the movie starts, not even to ask why she’s playing a movie she doesn’t like, and the two friends drift into a comfortable silence. 
Halfway through the movie, Annabeth is itching to get off the couch. Percy has started playing with her fingers instead of just holding them now, and Annabeth doesn’t think she can handle this much longer. So as Percy is voicing Squirt’s voice cuter than even the original actor can, Annabeth stands up, taking her hand away from Percy’s and ignoring his frown, and grabs her phone, pretending someone’s calling. 
“It’s uh… Luke,” she stutters out. Annabeth runs out of the room before she can register the look that flashes over Percy’s face at the mention of the boy from her physics class. The door to her room is slammed shut before she hears Percy’s response and Annabeth hangs her head in her hands. 
“Gods, Annabeth! What’s wrong with you? This is Percy!” 
Yeah, the Percy that you’re in love with. 
So Annabeth pulls herself together. She walks over to her bathroom and splashes a bucketful of freezing water over her face.
“Pull yourself together, Chase.” 
When Annabeth walks back out of the room, Percy is on the phone talking to someone. Annabeth realizes he hasn’t heard her door open and she can’t help but lean against her door frame to watch him for a moment.
He really is handsome, she can’t help but notice. He had gone from a cute kid to a handsome guy, and it was starting to keep her up at night.
“I don’t know Rach,” he was saying, and Annabeth fought down the swell of jealousy in her chest. She liked Rachel- she really did. What she didn’t like was how interested she seemed in Percy. The looks Rachel would shoot her when she was talking to Percy didn’t help either. “I just-”
“Percy, I swear to all the gods. If you don’t make a move soon-”
“I can’t just make a move Rachel. She doesn’t feel the same way and I’ve ruined years of friendship.” Rachel sighs from across the line and Annabeth doesn’t think she’s breathing. When Rachel speaks again, she’s clearly frustrated.
“Percy, Annabeth is hot. You have to have noticed that by now.” She states it as a fact and Annabeth holds back a snort. And then she realizes that the conversation is about her. Percy and Rachel are talking about his feelings for her. Annabeth thinks she’s going to faint. 
“Yes, Rach. I know she’s hot.” The statement sends a blush to her cheeks and Annabeth fights to stay silent as she watches her best friend squirm. 
“Right, and sooner or later, other people are gonna start noticing too. If you don’t say something soon, she’s going to move on, and you’ll really lose your chance.”
“She’s already gone,” he sighs defeated. “I think she’s into that guy Luke from her physics class.” Annabeth wanted to scream. Did he really think she liked Luke? What a Seaweed Brain. 
“God Percy, you really are an idiot, aren’t you? All you do is pine over this girl, and if you haven’t realized she’s pining just as hard for you, I don’t know what to tell you.” 
“Rachel, she’s my best friend. She would never-”
“Like you back?” Annabeth’s voice shocks him so much that he hangs up the phone and drops it on the ground. “Think again, Seaweed Brain.” Annabeth tilts the corner of her mouth into a small smile and comes to sit next to him on the couch. 
“A-Annabeth!” he stutters and Annabeth loves the blush that appears on his cheeks. “You- I- when did you- wait what?”
“You’re not seriously saying you didn’t know I’m in love with you.” Annabeth thinks she might be blushing, but she really doesn’t care anymore. Her best friend likes her back. 
“You’re what? But I’m in love with you.” Her heart stutters in her chest.
Annabeth’s laugh brings a grin to Percy’s face and she can’t help but brush a kiss to his cheek.
“Funny how that works, huh?”
~~
“Person A and Person B are friends and neither of them have a date for Valentine’s Day, so they decide to order takeout and watch a movie together. At some point, hidden feelings are revealed.”
~~
yeah i love them... 
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wtfevenismypage · 4 years ago
Text
Observer Not Profiler PT.3
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
Summary: You’re similar to a profiler, but you can tell almost anything about a person just from a single glance. What they had for dinner, if they took a bath or shower, their name, favorite color, if they lie, even if they’re good in bed. You’ve been running from the government ever since you got caught hacking into their systems and since then you have been diagnosed with Extreme anxiety, anxious tics, and paranoia. But now the BAU need you’re help in Identifying killers.
Warnings: maybe a curse word or two, mentions of death, anxious/nervous ticking, tic attacks
A/N: Hey all! Here’s part 3! Remember that requests are open! So is the taglist, however I may be closing the taglist in a few weeks! thank you for reading!
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You never knew you were scared of being on private jets until Dr. Spencer Reid rolled along.
“Statistically, Private jets crash more so than commercial planes do. The rate is commonly expressed as the number of accidents per 100,000 flight hours. The accident and fatal-accident rates declined again in 2015. In fact, the fatal-accident rate fell below one to 0.84, meaning there was less than one fatal crash per 100,000 flight hours.”
You think he was trying to make you feel better, but it only made you even more terrified.
“I would like to join the Bureau!”
Emily smiles happily, she knew that getting to know you would be a blast, and your people reading skills would come in major handy.
“That’s wonderful!”
Garcia yells out before wrapping her arms around you, it makes you freeze at first, but the hesitation wears off and you hug her back before shaking hands with everyone else.
When you shake Dr. Reid’s hand, you linger for a second, barely a second, before shaking hands with Hotch.
“This is going to be difficult, you’ll need training.”
You nod, shaking his calloused hand firmly.
“Of course sir, I’m willing to go through all of the training in the world for this.”
He smiles, but barely, only noticeable if you were looking (which you are) and you feel ecstatic at the small gesture. 
“Well, we have a jet to catch, so let’s hurry up. wheel’s up in thirty.”
The first few weeks of training were intense, you were physically trained by Morgan, he got you into shape and gifted you with a subtle six pack that you could see if you squinted hard enough. 
Hotch trained you to handle a gun, which you kind of sucked at. Every time you shot it, you jumped five feet in the air and had a mini panic attack, which Hotch had to help you out with.
Emily, Rossi, and JJ made you into a pretty damn good interrogator, which made you smile every time they complimented you.
You were shocked when you learned that you actually did need lessons in profiling, you needed to learn certain behaviors at crime scenes when you couldn’t see the unsub. Reid helped you in that regard. He also told you all sorts of fun facts, which you happily listened to, you loved learning new things and you would even insist upon hearing the facts sometimes.
You and Penelope had races against each other to see who could get into what faster, so far you two were tied.
Today is the day though, your first day as an official member of the team. Surprisingly, you still couldn’t say the word profiler without spiraling, and you’ve been having anxious tic attacks all night and all morning.
As you walk into the doors to the big office in the early early morning, your wrists slam together twice, making you wince and rub them, feeling the bruises from last night scream in rage.
“I’ve gotta learn to stop that...”
You realize you’re the first in the office, so you just take a quick seat to try and ground yourself, but it instead spirals into a tic attack as you take in what’s finally happening after all of these long and torturous years. 
“Y/L/N. You alright?”
You turn to the cold voice, seeing Hotch standing at the top of the stairs. You thought you were alone, you hoped you were, but if anyone was going to be at the office, you weren’t surprised it was Hotch.
“Oh, sorry sir, I’m just having first day nerves! I feel like I’m back in middle school...”
He flashes you an understanding half-smile, walking up to you and patting your shoulder.
“Don’t worry too much, everyone here is already obsessed with you, you’ll fit right in.”
You smile, trying to act like you were okay,but when your fist harshly collides with the side of your head, you sigh and clutch the now bruised spot.
“Well, the others should be here soon, your desk is right there, next to Reid’s.”
You couldn’t stop the pink heat that bum-rushed it’s way onto your cheeks, trying to avoid Hotch seeing by moving to your new desk an sitting down, subconsciously clapping your palm against the desk.
“Wowie. I’m all official and everything huh?”
You smirk before the door clicks open, people beginning to enter the once-empty office space and making your nerves go through the roof once again.
That is, until Derek and Reid walk in with Garcia chatting about something random with Emily laughing at her.
“Hey Y/L/N! How’s the day so far?”
Derek asks, sitting on your desk. You immediately swat him off with a fake pout painted across your lips.
“Hey, I just got this space, I’ll be d-damned if I let some-some sweaty man sit on it.”
They didn’t miss your nervous stuttering, but in the short time the team had known you, they knew you hated when your tics were the center of attention, so they simply gave sad smiles and moved on.
“We have a new case, Y/L/N, I’ll give you a moment to adjust, round table in ten.”
Hotch walks away, back to his office before Garcia plops down on your desk. Derek notices how you don’t shoo her off and throws a whole fit.
“So you kick me off but not Penelope?”
“Is Garcia a-a sweaty m-man? I don-don’t think so!”
You all laugh before they sit down, Reid sitting next to you and logging into his computer before setting his stuff down.
“You ready for your first case?”
Reid asks, you shrug in response, a nervous smile plastered on your face.
“I g-guess we’ll find-find out.”
Your wrists slam together again, making you hiss in pain a bit, Reid looks concerned and takes one of your wrists in his hand, gently brushing one of his long, slender fingers over your bruised nerves.
“Well a better question, are these going to heal correctly?”
He asked with a sudden seriousness that you didn’t particularly enjoy. 
“Well I don’t know Mr. Genius, why don’t you tell me?”
He looks up at your sarcastic words and smiles a bit, cheeks being brushed with a bit of red as he answers.
“Well they won’t heal properly with your tics, if anything they could get worse, the veins in your wrists will actually get really damaged and it could affect your entire nervous system, you might want to get it-”
“Spencer, as much as I love listening to your rants, and I do, I don’t love listening to the ones about my health being in danger.”
He smiles and discontinues the topic, letting you take your wrists out of his gentle grip and returning to your computer.
“Alright everyone, let’s get to the round table.”
-
-
-
-
-
Throughout the entire case, you stick close with Reid, he made you feel safer than the others somehow. He didn’t say anything about you being with him the entire time, he just accepted the helpful points you gave him. 
One night, you two were up all night trying to find a connection, laying out on top of a desk, listening to Mozart (he insisted) and trying to make a connection between the victims.
You had gotten so excited when you finally made a connection you started jumping up and down with Spencer, holding his hands happily as he joined your silly theatrics.
He seemed to be the only person that can relax your anxiety, even just standing around him helped slow your tics. You didn’t know why he relaxed you, he just did. 
On the jet back to the BAU, the two of you shared earbuds to listen to classical music, you had left your headphones back in Oregon so Spencer offered his left earbud.
Even back at the offices when you were working with Penelope, he brought you green tea, telling you it would still keep you awake but it wouldn’t make you as jittery or paranoid as coffee would.
As soon as he left, Garcia started looking at you weird, giving you googly eyes.
“What?”
“You like him don’t you!?”
Your jaw drops, eyebrows furrowing down, your cheeks get all rosy. No way! You didn’t like him like that, you just enjoyed his company.
“No I don’t! You’re finally going crazy huh?”
“You totally do! You’re getting all blushy and everything!”
“I don’t like him like that! I’ve never liked anyone like that, why would it start now huh? It wouldn’t. I don’t like him.”
She gives you a doubtful look, but drops it, letting you spin around to another computer while sipping on your freshly hot green tea.
The next day, you take the elevator up with Spencer, Derek, and JJ, JJ and Derek were talking about some show, while you listened to Spencer ramble about how unrealistic the show was.
“But Spencer, Dr. Who isn’t very realistic, but you still love it don’t you?”
“Well yeah, but I’m immediately biased to Dr. Who for my love of it, with any other movie or show, I don’t hesitate to point out faults.”
You chuckle at that, Spencer’s passion for Dr. Who was unmatched for anyone else’s love for any show. It’s insane. 
“Okay before pretty boy goes on about Dr. Who for hours, let’s escape.”
The doors open, allowing you and the other team members to walk in. Your desk was still fairly empty, not even a plant there to accompany your computer, you were still holding onto your runaway life, whether you admit it or not.
“Y/L/N, I need to talk to you. My office now.”
“What was that about?”
Panic bubbles to your chest, Hotch’s tone was too assertive, too aggresive. It was scary.
“I don’t know...”
Taglist: 
@imsuperawkward @ithinkilovetruecrimetoomuch @l0ve-0f-my-life @hopebaker @thatonezesty13 @nightlygiggless @aberrant-annie @holybatflapexpert @spencerreidisbootiful @april-14-blog @jackryan-plz @ajwantsapancake @lightswriting @emilouu @yourmisosoup @lizziebritish @101donuts @rainsong01 @pretty-boy-genius @squirrellover1967 @gublerstyles @delievia @boxofsparklingmuses @annestine 
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ihearthes · 4 years ago
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Farmers’ Market
Author: @ihearthes Pairing: Harry x y/n Rating: Fluff Word Count: 2.8k
Summer Feeling Challenge sponsored by @helladirections
Vibrant yellows, pinks, greens, and red catch my eye as I take in the variety of fruits and veg in front of me. Wow. How is it possible to have this much beautiful fresh produce in one spot? Placing the essential ingredients for my favorite salad in a basket, I approach the counter. Having ridden a bicycle to the market, I’m fairly confident it will all fit in my knapsack for the return to my flat. 
Hearing his voice causes my entire body to freeze. Well, not completely because my heart is like a wild animal trying to break free from captivity. Regular beats, steady, but louder than my friend Steph had been at his concert in Philly. 
“Hi, I’m looking for some kale, and you don’t seem to have any,” His voice is as deep as the grooves in one of the gravel roads back home in Springfield, and the shiver that travels up my spine is a violent and silent storm. 
Shit. Had I taken the last of the kale? Maybe I can surreptitiously put it back so he doesn’t notice? Wait just a doggone minute! Why the fuck should I give up my kale? Just because he’s my favorite musician in the whole world and he’s somehow standing at the very same green-grocer’s as I am? That makes zero sense. 
A statue, I debate my options. 
Buy my produce and leave before he notices me. But then he might realize that I’ve taken the last of the kale. 
Put the kale back and choose spinach instead? My strawberry salad will taste lovely with spinach. But it truly is best with kale. 
Wait until he leaves and hope he doesn’t spy the kale in my basket? Suddenly, I’ve got the urge to pee. What if he’s here for a long time? 
Put on my sexy voice and offer to share my kale salad with him? This option causes me to smirk while my tummy resembles a popcorn popper with kernels scattering in every direction. Stepping to the counter, I quickly throw my items at the woman while he’s engaged in conversation with a different clerk. 
“That’ll be £14.35,” the woman says, and I withdraw a £20 note, quickly passing it to her, holding my breath that I can escape before he approaches. Not daring to look backwards, I squeeze my change in my fist as I rush to fit in with the crowd strolling the Parliament Hill Farmers’ Market. It’s not until I’m at the end of the stalls and near my chained bicycle that I slow down, breathe, and risk a glance behind me. 
“What did you think? He was going to chase you down and tackle you for the kale?” Steph screams at me through the phone. Naturally she had been my first call as soon as I arrived back at the flat my company had rented for the duration of this London business trip. 
“I didn’t know, Steph! It’s like sixty degrees out there, and I’m sweating like I’ve just run a marathon in ninety-degree heat.” Removing the items from my knapsack, I wash them, laying them out to dry on a towel. Using my fingers, I pull my shirt away from my chest and shake it to allow air to flow better. 
“You’re the only person I know who can meet Harry fucking Styles on her first trip to the farmers’ market! And you’re deffo the only one who would turn and run away! How did he look? What was he wearing?” Her words are BB pellets like my brothers used to shoot at cans back home. 
My words are quiet and stutter as they emerge like a new butterfly from a cocoon. “I didn’t look.”
“WAIT JUST ONE GODDAMNED MINUTE! What do you mean? How could you not look?” Her volume has increased to the level that I might need to remove my Airpods so as to not damage my ears. Then her voice lowers. “What if it wasn’t him?”
Shit. I hadn’t considered that. “No. It was definitely him. Come on. How many times have I listened to his voice?”
“Maybe it was just the British accent.”
“Steph, I’m in London. Everyone has a British accent. I’m telling you. It was him.”
My best friend sighs. “Okay. I believe you. The fact that he was right there, though, and you didn’t say or do anything…” 
“I got the hell out of there. What do you mean I didn’t do anything?”
“Maybe you’ll see him next week. Will you talk to him?”
A soft smile crosses my lips. “Nope. Come on, Steph. You and I have always had a pact that we wouldn’t bother him if we saw him in the wild, and I’m sticking with that.”
----------
“My boss and his wife are coming by tonight, so I want to put together a fruit and cheese plate.” I tell the vendor at Bath Soft Cheese. “Can you give me some suggestions?”
“Oh. I can!” A voice next to me says, and I’m a rigid piece of lumber. What are the fucking odds? Shit. 
“Thanks, Harry,” the gentleman at the table says. “I’m going to help this couple.” With that, I’m left alone. 
Carefully, I swivel my neck to make sure I’ve not lost my mind -- or the plot as my colleagues might say. But no. It’s him. Definitely him. 
I drink him in. Wearing a hoodie with his own name over the heart and a pair of shorts that are more for walking than jogging, Harry (fucking Styles!) points towards one of the cheeses sitting on the bed of ice. 
“This one is a vegetarian cheese, and it’s my sister’s favorite. Best paired with thin apple slices because they make the cheese with apple cider. So delicious.” He glances at me, and I feel faint from the deep green of his eyes. Fuck. Up close and in person, they’re brilliant. They shine (Shine! Step into the light! Shine! So bright sometimes!), and I have to blink so that I can nod. 
“Awesome. Thanks,” I move to take the cheese. 
“Oh, but this one,” he points to the next one over, “is their Bath Soft, and it’s best served with grapes.” Harry Styles, explaining cheeses like he’s an expert cheesemonger, makes me smile. “Personally, I wouldn’t serve a blue cheese to guests unless you know they like it. So many people take offense to blue cheese.”
“Right? I love blue cheese. Especially in a salad. It’s got that bite to it,” I blurt out, and then clamp my mouth shut as I realize I’ve started to relax in his presence. Which is downright stupid as I might inadvertantly disclose something incriminating. Like how many of his concerts I’ve witnessed live.
“Yes! I’ve got this great kale salad recipe with blue cheese and walnuts!” His excitement is the same as that of a puppy spotting a treat; tail practically wagging the whole backside. 
From deep in my belly I feel the giggle build up, and I fasten both hands solidly over my mouth in a pathetic (and useless) attempt to contain it. 
His joy is contagious, though, and I can’t help myself. “Does it have a balsamic vinegarette? Because I have one that’s so good I can eat it every night for a week. Oh. Never mind. That’s the recipe I have with candied pecans. Not walnuts.”
Holy shit. I’m actually standing in a farmers’ market in London discussing recipes with Harry Styles. Perhaps I’m going to pass out? Or maybe I’m hallucinating? Or dreaming? 
“Candied pecans? Sounds yummy. There’s my friend. Gotta go! You can’t go wrong with those two cheeses I mentioned! And maybe treat yourself to some blue cheese too. Just for you.” He winks with his right eye and flashes the dimple my way before he disappears.
----------
My third week in London, and I climb onto my bicycle a full two hours before the usual time I had traveled to the farmers’ market the last two weeks. My license plate should read “Determined to Dodge” because it’s freaking me out a bit that I’ve seen Harry twice in the same place. And they say lightning doesn’t strike twice. Ha! I’m making sure it doesn’t strike thrice. 
“I’ll take the plain goat’s cheese,” I instruct the vendor, and after money is exchanged, she hands it to me and I move to place it directly into my backpack. After nearly a month, I’ve got the hang of this farmers’ market shopping, it seems, and I’m pleased to have arrived with a set shopping list for the first time. 
“Yum.” Harry’s voice comes over my shoulder, and I’m startled enough to nearly drop the damn cheese. HOW IS HE HERE? “What’s your plan for that?”
“Um,” I bite my lip. “Goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini.” Feeling emboldened, my lips continue speaking as though this superstar and I are friends, “I’ve been debating the two beekeepers, but I don’t know which has the better honey.”
Today he’s wearing a pair of blue jeans that fit wide on his hips along with a peach button-down shirt and a newsboy cap. “Oh, then I think we should definitely go have a taste at each. My lady?” He holds out his crooked arm, ready for me to take it like we’re in a 1940’s movie. 
What’s even crazier is that I follow his lead and add, “Lead the way, sir.” It’s ridiculously silly. And so much fun. His playful side makes me feel charmed, less like a fan and more like an acquaintance. At the first beekeeper, we each taste the regular blossom honey. 
“Oh, that’s fantastic,” I whisper as I slide the wooden stick across my tongue. 
“Hey, you can’t give in yet. We’ve not tried the other one. We’ll be back,” he says over his shoulder to the vendor as he escorts me away. “Maybe,” he adds once we’re out of hearing, drawing a giggle from me. 
Holy shit. I’m relaxed around Harry Styles. What is happening to me? Boundaries! I need boundaries. 
“Oh, my!” I breathe as we arrive at the Local Honey Man’s booth. “There’s too many options.”
Knowingly, Harry nods. “Indeed there are. So maybe we need to back up. You’re doing plain goat cheese on what kind of crostini?”
“You mean what bread am I using? Oh, I was thinking either a thinly sliced sourdough or a baguette.”
“Mmmm...excellent choice. I can recommend some bread next. What fruit are you planning to use?”
His question makes me laugh involuntarily. The great performer and entertainer Harry Styles is asking me what fruit I want on my crostini? Why?
“Well, I’m thinking it’s that time of year for peaches or nectarines. Either of which would be amazing.” Placing a finger to my chin, I survey him. Fuck. He looks so wonderful. Fresh. Friendly. Not at all like a celebrity. Just a normal Joe -- or Harry -- that one might meet at a farmers’ market on a Saturday morning. As I observe him, I feel myself starting to shed some of the barriers between us. He’s just like me, I think. A food connoisseur. Someone who enjoys the local atmosphere. 
“Oh yes,” he pauses, smacking his lips. “I can taste that now. Okay, so with that combination, I would recommend either the lemon zest infused honey or the British Borage Honey. Personally, I think the cinnamon honey might overpower the flavor of the goat cheese.”
“You know what? I think you’re right. My goal is for all of the local flavors to come through, so perhaps going with a non-flavored honey is the best decision. Thanks, Harry.” And then I freeze again because I know I’ve let my tongue get away with a horrible slip by saying his name. Wanting to cry, I bite my lip and turn to the vendor. With tears in my throat, I ask, “I’ll take a jar of the British Borage please.” 
The merchant wraps it quickly, handing it over in exchange for my money, and I nervously twist towards Harry, expecting his glare over my rudeness. It’s almost like he’s oblivious. As I place the jar of honey in my bag, he grabs my hand. 
“Let’s check out breads!” 
Running behind him, I’m puzzled by what had just occurred. Shouldn’t he be upset? Freaking out? Wondering if I’m a stalker?
“Here’s my recommendation,” he says as we stop at a stall with a sign reading ‘The Flour Station’. They’ve got a wonderfully tangy sourdough baguette. If you slice it thin, then layer on the goat cheese, honey, and finally the peaches, it will be a perfect meal.”
When I request the baguette, the owner nods and wraps it for me. As he hands it over, I turn to Harry and extend my hand. “Thank you for your help, kind sir. I’m confident this will be the most amazing meal.”
Staring at my hand suspiciously, he ignores it. “Nearly lunchtime,” he announces. “Any chance you’ll join me for some Indian food?” With his head, Harry gestures towards the Mumbai Mix stand. 
As I consider the implications, my head starts to move from side to side. Never meet your idols. That’s what the voice in my head whispers. 
“Please?” His eyes take on a look that is as close to begging as I’ve ever seen in any human. “Look. I’ll be honest. These days I don’t meet many fans who would go out of their way to avoid me like you do. Most want to move into my house immediately. It would be nice to extend our time a bit. After all, it’s just a meal in the middle of a crowded London farmers’ market. How scary can it be?”
Blinking, I carefully think about my response, but instead the words that escape are “You knew I was a fan? For how long? And how did you know I was avoiding you?”
“Fair questions. Place your order, and we can talk about the answers over lunch.”
Now my curiosity has been peaked. At the vendor, Harry requests the Dosa Wrap while I order the samosas, and we step to the side while they’re being prepared. 
“That first time.”
“Last week you mean?”
“No, the first time. You remember. At the green-grocer’s.”
My face likely flames red. “You saw me? You noticed me? I didn’t even so much as look at you.”
His hearty laugh makes me tingle. “Noticed you? Of course. You’re gorgeous and golden and stunning. And your American accent grabbed my attention. Why did you run?”
The giggle starts at my toes and bursts forth like a bird flying from a cage. “Um...because I’d taken the last of the kale.”
Resting his hands on his knees, Harry chuckles loudly, drawing the attention of other patrons. As the restauranteur hands over our plates, Harry carries both to a nearby table. 
“And last time? You jumped a mile when I suggested helping you with the cheeses.”
Burying my face in my hands, I groan. “Harrrrrrrryyyyy. Before I came to London for work, I made a promise to my best friend that if I saw you in the wild, I’d leave you alone. So it was quite awkward that you were the one who approached me. And holy hell! How did you know I would be here today at this time? I came early so I could shop before you arrived!”
He picks up his wrap and takes a bite, chewing carefully. Taking guidance from him, I gingerly grasp a samosa and tear into the dough, immediately savoring the potatoes and spices inside. 
“Mmmmm,” I murmur, and my tongue flicks out to rescue a bit of flavor still on my lips. 
“‘In the wild’?” he inquires, and I’m confident the blush now covers my entire body. 
“You know. Like if I saw you at a show or a public event, it would be different. Then I could fangirl and ask for an autograph or a photo or whatever. But at the market, you’re not working. You’re just like everyone else -- shopping.” 
Knowingly, he nods. “I appreciate that. Truly. Not everyone respects my private time. So thank you. But the truth is…” There’s a pause, and I nervously nibble at the samosa in my hand, worried about what he will say next. “...once I noticed you, I couldn’t ignore you.” Clearing his throat, he smiles in a friendly manner. “How did your boss enjoy the cheese and fruit plate?”
“Wonderfully,” I respond, “But not as much as I enjoyed my kale salad with blue cheese, blueberries, strawberries, and candied pecans.” A smile tilts my lips upwards, possibly exposing my own dimple. 
“I’m sure,” he murmurs, “I’d love to taste it sometime. Care to make it for me?”
“Hmmm,” I playfully consider his request. “Are you confident you’d prefer that to goat cheese, honey, and fruit crostini on sourdough baguette? It’s all local.”
A/N:  Thanks for reading. Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this. 
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thequeenkrys15 · 4 years ago
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Can I Kiss You
This one goes out to Miss Sofia, aka @chrisdiels-babygirl 
I am your actual secret admirer from the CNCO Valentine Grams, and I have to say being on this journey with you has been fun and interesting. Like I said before, you deserve the world, and I hope this fic does it for you. 
Before you start this read love, please know that I have never done this before, so if it’s not to your liking please tell me and I will gladly make modifications.
Pairing: Christopher Velez x Sofia!Reader
Word Count: 4000+
Warnings: Smut, 18+, minors DNI, protected sex (no glove, no love) fingering, slight oral, tooth rotting fluff and google translated spanish
And shoutout to @flamediel for bringing us all together on this Valentine’s Day. The world needs more love!
Anyways, Sofia honey, this one’s for you!
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It was one hot summer day in Miami, FL, and you were enjoying the weather by relaxing on the beach. You layed out on the sand in your favorite one-piece red swimsuit while sipping on a raspberry lemonade. “Everything is just perfect” you thought, as you slowly closed your eyes. You were about to take a short nap on the beach before a volleyball came out of nowhere. It crashed into you, spilling your drink everywhere. As you were trying to clean yourself up, you saw a man appear out of the corner of your eye. “Lo siento. I am so sorry. Are you okay?” You were caught off guard by his accent, but he would not be getting off that easy. You were about to tell him off when you finally looked up in his direction, and the wind was knocked out of your lungs for the second time that day. He had pale skin and the most tattoos she had ever seen on one person. His facial structure looked like it was carved from marble. He was as beautiful as you were stunned. But, you refused to give him the satisfaction of your shocked state. “Your volleyball spilled my drink all over me.” As you explained her distressed, you caught the stranger looking over your body a second too long, as if he was checking you out. “My bad about that, me and my friends were playing a little game. If you want, I could buy you another drink?” You were starting to think that maybe this accident was in your best interest. “Well, it would be a nice start. And your name is?” Before you received an answer, another gentleman, much taller, called out to your stranger, “¡Christopher! ¿Que haces?” Who you presumed to be Chris, then threw the volleyball at the taller gentleman and said “Me voy a poner al día más tarde” as he waved the man off. He then turned back to you, “Call me Chris, and you miss?” he asked for your name as he reached for your hand. “Sofia, my name is Sofia”. “That’s a lovely name Sofia” he said as he kissed your hand. “Now let’s go get you that drink.” As you walked away, you could not help but think “He has the most beautiful brown eyes I’ve ever seen. And that is how an unbeknownst love affair began.  
It has been two years since that moment at the beach, and in your mind, it has been the best years of your life. Never has you ever thought that you would meet someone who would one day become the light of your life, but you are happy to know that it’s Chris. Chris cherishes you like the queen you are and makes sure he tells you every second of every day. Chris first started off with morning text messages, to let the lady in his life know that he was thinking of her. Then it continued with hanging out on your spare time, later turning into actual dates. Every date you would have Chris would bring flowers. It got to the point where you had to tell him to stop because you were running out of vases. After every date when he walked you to your doorstep, he would ask, “Can I kiss you?”, because he is ever the gentleman. In order to take things slow, he would kiss your cheek, and then as your dates went on, he would move to your lips. As your relationship progressed, Chris made an effort to make more time for his special lady. You knew he was in a band, and sometimes things came up, you never held it against him. But if he did have to miss a date, he always made sure to make it up to you in a huge way. After two months of dating, Chris decided to introduce you to his band members that also doubled as his best friends. You went to a barbeque hosted by one of his bandmates, Richard. It was a full-blown party when you two arrived. As you made yourself comfortable, Chris went to go round up all the boys so you could meet them. You recognized the tall one from the beach, Zabdiel. Then you met curly haired Joel, along with a green-eyed fellow named Erick. And finally you shook the party host’s hand, Richard, who had an impressive set of tattoos himself. They greeted you with open arms, asking you questions about your life, and if Chris was causing you any trouble. Immediately they knew you were a good girl for Chris. 
You two did not sleep together until you were three months into the relationship, because both of you had been with people who did not protect your heart and you wanted to be sure. It was after a movie night at your place, watching “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. The night could have been written in a movie script alone. You two were on the couch, laughing about a memory you told him. The laughs died down, and both you and Chris stared into each other’s eyes. As you both start to lean into one another, he asks “Can I kiss you, Sofia?”. The second you nod your head, because you are at a loss for words, he crashes his lips to yours. It was soft at first, you two just relishing in being in each other’s presence. But then the kiss grew heated, as he licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance. You accepted, tasting the oreos he had earlier on his tongue. Chris then placed you on his lap, your legs straddling over his. With his hands gripping your waist and your hands holding the sides of his face, both of you fought for dominance in the kiss, with Chris eventually winning out. You pulled away from the kiss first, your lungs gasping for air, but that did not deter Chris from trailing kisses all the way down to your collarbone. “Take me to the room” you said breathlessly. “You sure nena?” You nodded quickly, never being surer of anything in your life. He picked you up, and walked you both to your bedroom, as he continued to pepper you with kisses. Once he made it to your room, he kindly sat down on the side of your bed, with you still in his arms. He began to move your shirt up your torso, stopping momentarily to see if you’d object. When no such words came, he lifted your shirt over your head. He peppered kisses over your collarbone and began to suck hickies into the mounds of your breasts. “Tan hermosa” he said into your cleavage. You moaned, for he was doing wonders for your body, nipping at your skin while licking away the pain. He made quick work of your jeans and then tossed you on the bed. For a minute he didn’t move, just stared at you with lust and admiration in his eyes. You were starting to feel self-conscious, until he said something that made your heart soar. “You are the most radiant woman I have ever had the pleasure of calling mine.” He made quick work of his clothes as well, until both of you were left in your underwear. “Soy tan afortunado” he whispered as he crawled over you. Your tongues battled it out as you began to kiss once more. You were so enraptured by his mouth that you don’t see what his hand is doing until it reaches beneath your black underwear. You gasp, as you feel Chris’ hand move over slit, collecting your juices. “Estas tan mojada nena”. Once he moves his finger to your nub, your hips buck into his hand, asking for more. Chris starts to draw patterns on your swollen nub, living for the reactions your face is making. “¿Quieres más nena?” he asks as he draws figure eights on your pearl. You nod, but that’s not enough for him, he wants to hear the desperation in your voice. “Use your words nena.” “Yes Chris! I need more!” He then slid his index finger into your heat, massaging a part in your channel that made you see stars. He added a second finger, and then a third as he saw your face contort in pleasure. You were a mess, holding onto him for dear life as the coil in your belly was threatening to break. Chris could see it, that you weren’t going to last much longer. “It’s okay Sofia. Let go. Cum for me.” At the sound of his command, you came with a scream, your body buzzed and jolted, as you saw nothing but a white flash in your eyes. You were absolutely spent, as Chris asked if you had any condoms. You pointed to your nightstand since you were still coming down from your high. As he pulled his boxers down, stared at his shaft in complete and utter shock. You said to yourself “This man has the most exquisite dick you have ever laid eyes on”. He rolled himself into the contraceptive and proceeded to take off your underwear, as he laid on top of you. “¿Puedo besarte?” he asks again. You nod frantically, connecting your lips, as you feel the head of his cock enter your tight channel. You hiss as your walls tried to stretch to accommodate his size. Chris held onto your hips as he pushed in, stopping frequently to make sure you were okay. Once he was fully seated, you felt a little discomfort, he was bigger than the usual guys you dealt with. He cooed in your ear, whispering how you were doing so well and how he feels so good being inside you. After waiting a minute, you tell him to move, and when he does that first draw back, your eyes rolled into the back of your head. He felt better than you could have ever imagined. He sucked on your neck-shoulder juncture, as he began with slow strokes, sending you to the moon over and over again. You held onto him tight, not wanting any space between your bodies. Once he got into a rhythm, he started going faster, so fast the headboard was banging against the wall, surely waking the neighbors. He angled his hips to find your g-spot, and he knew he found it when you started wail. “Right there Chris! Don’t stop!” You started to feel that coil in your stomach tighten again, and Chris knew it too. He tilted your head towards him and made you look into his eyes. “Look at me Sofia, I want to see your face when you fll apart. Cum!” The look in his eyes, plus his command, was enough to send you spiraling. You thrashed off the bed, as your orgasm came in waves, and Chris helping you ride it out for as long as possible. As you were coming down from your high, Chris hit his climax, sending after shocks to your body as he spilled his seed into the condom. He fell on top of you, your breaths mixing together. After he was able to compose himself, he retreated to your bathroom to grab a small towel to clean both you and him up. He threw away the condom, and as he scooted into bed behind you, he snuggled you into his side. You laid there, with a blissed out look on your face. Chris couldn’t help but stare, knowing that he was the reason for your intoxicated state. It was in that moment that he knew, he was in it for the long haul. “¿Puedo besarte?” he asked. You looked at him with a lazy smile, and kissed his lips, before you both drifted off to sleep.
 After that moment, your relationship with Christopher skyrocketed, being filled with fun memories and laughter. After seven months of dating, he told you he loved you. It came out of the blue, both you and him sitting on opposite ends of his couch while watching “American Horror Story”. Both you and he were on your phones, not really paying attention to the TV. As Chris looked at you, he realized his feelings, and decided to make them known. When he said, “I love you”, you thought you hadn’t heard him clearly, but he repeated it clear as day, confidant in his words. After hearing him repeat his declaration, you didn’t hesitate to say it back. After a year of dating, he flew both of you to your favorite restaurant in Wisconsin called the Hairy Lemon. To this day he still doesn’t understand the name choice. But he doesn’t care, as long as it makes his special lady happy. It was your one-year anniversary, and both of you were looking spectacular, him in his black silk button up shirt, and you in your red loose-fitting jumpsuit. Chris could never stop staring when you wore red. The two of you sat down at your booth, engaging in meaningful and meaningless conversation, as you waited for your food. After you were done eating, Chris ordered from the dessert menu and waited for the waiter to leave. “Sofia, I have a gift for you” he said as he placed a velvet box onto the table. You opened it, and inside was a house key. “Christopher is this what I think it is?”. He reached for your hand. “Sofia, when I come home from being on the road with the boys, all I want is lay down in bed and sleep with you by my side. And I can’t do that if we live in separate apartments. Most of your stuff is over at my place anyway, and I just don’t see the use of us living in two places. I want you to move in with me.” Words cannot express the emotions that were running through you, so much so that all you could do was nod your head yes. Little did you know he already had movers at your place getting your things. 
The next two months were filled with late nights and lazy mornings. Moments where you were laying in bed, tracing his diamond tattoo were priceless. On your birthday he gifted you with a new car, a Red Ford Focus RS MK3 to be exact, which he just happened to know was your dream vehicle. Now you weren’t new to Chris granting you with extravagant gifts, from dresses to shoes to jewelry. But you were a bit wary from accepting a gift that was hundreds of thousands of dollars. “Christopher, no puedo aceptar esto. I can’t accept this baby. How would I ever pay you back?” This cause Chris to jump into action quickly, gently moving you to sit on the steps. “Okay first, gifts are not made to pay people back, you simply smile and say thank you.” He handed you the keys and waited for a reply. “Thank you, Christopher.” “Good, and second, I actually wanted to talk to you about that. I don’t want you to work anymore.” You stared at him in pure shock. “Dejame explicar. I see you come home stressed from the job every day. You always say that your boss is always rude, and the customers are disrespectful. I know that you are a strong-willed woman, and you don’t need me financially, but Sofia, I just want your days to be filled with happiness and fun times. I want to take care of you. Let me.” You started to think about it, how life would be like. “So, you want to become my sugar daddy?” Then he gave you his signature grin, “If that’s what you want to call it. I just want my lady to be happy.” As you mulled it over, the idea began to be more and more appealing. “Alright, I’ll quit this weekend. How about we celebrate by test driving my new car? As you both got into the car, Chris looked over at you, admiring his stunning girlfriend. “Sofia, can I kiss you?” “Like you even have to ask.” 
Since then, your life has been nothing but blissful. You can go wherever you want, see your friends whenever you wanted to, and the best part is, you got to come home to the man of your dreams every day. Life was great, but Chris was determined to make it better, starting with Valentine’s Day. It is now February 4th, and Chris is at home waiting at home with a candlelight dinner prepared. You walk into your shared home after hanging out with some friends. To say you were shocked was an understatement, you were completely in awe. “Chris, ¿Que es esto?” “Siéntate hermosa.” He leads you to the table. “Every day that we have spent together, you have brought a new light into my life, and I just want to show my appreciation.” “Chris, you already pay my bills, you bought me a car, and you keep money in my account, what more could you do?” you asked in disbelief. “How about a two-week getaway?” You were confused. “Sofia, do you remember when we were staying up late the other night just talking about random things, and you gave me your top five places to visit in the world?” You slowly nodded your head. “¡Vamos a hacerlo! I’ve already packed our bags. Baby, I want to take you on a five-stop tour of all the places on your list for Valentine’s Day.” You could have just started balling as the tears welled up in your eyes. “Chris, you do so much for me already, why would you do this?” You tried to hide your face away, but Chris wouldn’t let you. “Because I want hermosa, and I will always want to. Porfa Sofia, let me do this for us.” You nodded your head yes as you cried into his shoulder. He made you look him in his eyes, “Can I kiss you?” You said yes as he kissed your tears away. 
You were scheduled to leave on Saturday, February 6th, so that you could have your first love nest be in Italy. You flew first class, of course, even joined the Mile-High Club. You landed in Pisa, Italy, and it was as beautiful as you imagined. Each day was spent the same way: Chris would order breakfast in bed, you would try to get ready for the day, he would coerce you into staying in bed by erotic measures, eventually you two would leave and see the sights, you would either have dinner in the room or at a nice restaurant. But the night always ended with you two being entangled in the sheets. 
This went on for the next three days, until you had to leave to catch another flight, this one flying to Athens, Greece. You made sure to tell Chris that you wanted to see more of Athens, and not be held up in the hotel room again. He heard your request, but how was he supposed to listen when a gorgeous woman like yourself was laying right beside him, enticing him with those eyes. He would shimmy his way you’re your body, pulling apart your thighs. You kept telling him that you didn’t have time, but once his tongue hit your bundle of nerves, all bets were off. The Parthenon Temple could wait.
 You stayed in Greece until it was time for your next stop, Bora Bora. It would also be where Valentine’s Day would be spent. Of course he woke you with breakfast in bed, the pancakes shaped as hearts to express his love for you. After you ate, you took a shower together (getting more dirty than clean) and dressed yourselves for the day. You first began with an island tour, so you could see if there was anything extra that you wanted to do before you left. Then he surprised with jet skiing. When you came back with your red swimsuit on, Chris asks, “Isn’t that the same swimsuit you were wearing when we met?” You can’t believe he remembered. “Yeah, how’d you know?” “It’s my favorite one.” After the jet skiing activity, the two of you decided to go back to your hut to take a nap, because you had been exploring your countries since your trip started. Once you walked through the door, you two hit the bed fast. Two hours past by before Chris woke you up to get ready. You decided to wear a red bodycon dress since it was Valentine’s day and you wanted to play with Chris a bit. When he saw you in that dress, it was like he had been slapped in the face by your beauty. “You know, we could just have dinner here,” he said as he approached you, slyly putting his hands on your waist. “No papi, I want to show this dress off,” you say as you slip out of his grip. A car came to pick you up and take you to a fabulous restaurant. You requested a table outside so you could watch the ocean waves. As you ate, you stared at Chris, thinking “how did I score such an awesome person?” and you knew he was thinking the same thing. Chris then pulled a giftbox out of his pocket, and inside was a silver necklace with a diamond encrusted “C” as its charm. “This to show everyone that you are my girl” he said. You blushed, he is so possessive, but you kind of like it. “¿Puedo besarte?” You kissed him passionately. 
Your next stop in your five-part tour was Chris’ hometown in Ecuador. You would get to visit his stomping grounds and see where he grew up as a kid. You were staying in Yenny’s home, her taking a liking to you in your past interactions. Chris pulled out all of the stops when planning this trip, he wanted to make sure it was extra special. He let you meet some of his old friends and took you to his favorite eateries. He seemed so relaxed in his home country, you fell in love with him more and more. As the trip was close to ending and you were packing up for Dubai, Chris started acting strange. You tried asking Yenny, but she just chalked it up to him being homesick. On your last day in Ecuador, Yenny threw you two a going away party. All of Chris family and friends were there, but he still seemed nervous about something. As you were mingling with some of his friends, Chris cut the music off and stood on top of a chair. “¿Puedo tener la atención de todos?” You looked on in confusion, as Chris hopped off the chair and started walking towards you. “Sofia, since the first day I met you, I knew you were going to be mine, and I’m thankful that the volleyball hit you, because it led us here.” He had tears in his eyes now. “I love to sing, but I know that my mission in life is to continue to put a smile on your face, every moment of every day, for as long as I live. Sofia, you have entered into my life, and now I will never let you go.” He bent down on one knee. “Will you do me the honor of becoming Mrs. Sofia Velez?” He opened the box and in it held a five-carat diamond engagement ring. You had your hand over your mouth, all you could do was cry. You bent down with him, placed your hands on the sides of his face and whispered “yes” in his ear, cradling him in your arms. You both stood up, the engagement seeming so surreal as he put the ring on your left finger. You hugged Yenny, her enthusiastic about her having a new daughter-in-law. You heard his friends and family congratulate you both as the two of you headed inside. You two headed inside his room, holding each other. “I can’t believe this is real. You are going to be my wife” he smiled. “And you are going to be my husband” you exclaimed. Christopher looked down into your eyes, “Hey Sofia”, he whispered. You looked up at him with all the love you had in your heart. “Can I kiss you?” You crashed your lips together without a second thought. Guess your Valentine’s trip turned into an engagement trip. Next stop, Dubai!
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justcallmefox89 · 4 years ago
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Truth or Dare Part 9 - Diavolo’s Ending
The Demon Lord’s castle is in an uproar and Mammon steps up to hold things together.  The Devildom gets a visit from two unforeseen visitors who have the ability to change the course of fate.
Written from the perspective of a female OC
NSFW - threesome, guy on guy, penetrative sex, anal sex, unprotected sex, shower sex.........filth.  It’s just smutty, smutty filth.
TWs - discussions of death and dying
Mood List:
Jonathan Young - A Whole New World (cover) Max - Lights Down Low Jarryd James - Do You Remember The Killers - Smile Like You Mean It Hozier - Almost
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I feel nauseous and my head is pounding.  
Too much Demonus, not enough water.  I am never going to The Fall with Asmo ever again.  Never. 
A strong pair of arms surround me, holding me up.
“Fuck off Asmo.....this is all your fault,” I say, slurring.
“I assure you my darling, I am not Asmodeus and this situation is in no way his fault,” a voice behind me says, light and airy, tinkling like wind chimes swaying in the breeze.  
I recognize that voice.
“She’s right,” another voice chimes in.  “This is a situation borne of your own stupidity.”  A pause.  “Took courage though. You must have a pair of brass balls on you, human.  You get that from my side I’m sure.”  
A sardonic chuckle.
Low and husky, this voice sounds a lot like mine.  But there’s something else.....something darker, dangerous.  Something that brings to mind prey running through a forest at twilight, being pursued by something shadowy and quick and ominous, leaves and grass rustling as something runs for its life.      
I blink, blearily trying to focus, when a face pops up right in front of mine.
“Holy motherfucking fucking fuck!”  I yelp and stumble back.  
The face frowns, and when I look a little closer I realize I’m gazing into a pair of green eyes that look startlingly like my own.  I don’t know the owner though.  This woman’s long chestnut hair is held back from her face in a series of braids, her skin streaked with decorative lines that have been painted on by something chalky and blue.
“Language,” the voice from behind reprimands me softly.
“Sorry,” I say automatically, turning around.  
I know you.
Her skin is pale, like mine, but she has soft, dove grey eyes and flowing white hair.  White hair like........ like Mammon’s.
“Where’s Mammon?  Where’s Diavolo?”  I ask, whipping my head around, realizing I’m in Diavolo’s study.  
Everything looks hazy and out of focus, like a soft watercolor painting.  I see a group of men huddled around something on the floor, and breathe out a small sigh of relief when I hear Mammon and Diavolo speaking, although I can’t make out what they’re saying.
I face the pale woman again as the dark haired woman looks on impassively.
“Lilith why are you here?  Is it safe for you to be here?” 
The other woman snorts.  “We’re not in the Devildom, child.”
“Then where are we?”  I ask, panicky.
“A....purgatory of sorts,” Lilith answers carefully.
Purgatory?  But that’s for .................flames.....Mammon screaming.  Blood.  Skin burning.  Pain, so much pain.  Oh shit.
“I died?”  I swallow hard.  “Then the ritual didn’t work.”
The dark haired woman scowls.  “You’re not too far gone for us to help you, but you’ve sure pushed the limit of what we can do.”
“Oh fuc-”
“Arianthi!”  Lilith fixes me with a stern look.
“Sorry,” I mumble, avoiding her eyes.  “So I’m just a little bit dead?”
Lilith nods.  “There’s still enough time to for us to send you back.” 
A sound from far off in the distance drifts towards us.  Something that sounds like wood creaking and groaning, waves pounding against rocks.  And an unearthly haunting melody, underscored with eldritch screams.  It’s beautiful and terrible all at once, and I fight the urge to clap my hands over my ears.  My eyes dart around the room, searching for the origin of the noise.
“We don’t have any more time Lilith, we have to go.  NOW!”  The other woman hisses.
“I know Morrigan, I know.”  Lilith grabs my shoulders and bends down so we’re eye to eye.  “We can’t help you anymore after this. The Demon King is powerful, but he isn’t invincible.  And soon, even he won’t be able to deny your place in the Devildom hierarchy.”  
She flashes me a secretive smile.   
“You’ve drawn attention from other powerful beings though, so be on your guard.  Mammon will protect you, stay close to him.”  She kisses my forehead and gives me another smile.  “I’m proud of you.  Both of you.  Tell him that.”
I nod and she moves away, Morrigan stepping into her place.  She cocks her head to the side and looks at me curiously.  
“We don’t know each other, but you’ll learn of me soon enough.  You’ve always been one of my favorites; the first one of mine to wreak such chaos in hundreds of generations.”  She smirks at me.  “You’re entertaining, I’ll give you that.” 
The noise from earlier sounds like it’s getting closer.  She takes my hands in her own.  “Diavolo is a fine demon and he will be a wonderful ruler.  You chose well.  Be good to each other.”  
She presses a her lips to my forehead then roughly shoves me back.
WHUMP.
Shiiiiiiit.  Pain.  So much pain.  All the pain.  
“No, no, no, no,.......not again baby, please not again.  Come back....”  Mammon
“Solomon do something!”  Diavolo.
“I’m trying, I’m trying!”
My eyes don’t want to open and my body is sore and stiff.  I’m restricted, feeling claustrophobic.  I jerk and try to struggle free of whatever is holding me.
“Oi!”   
I try to stretch and blink my eyes rapidly until they stay open.  My clothes are in tatters, and the smell of fire and ashes surrounds me.  I try to breathe in but my chest constricts, my lungs unwilling to take in oxygen.  
“Arianthi?!”
Two pairs of arms tightly wrap around me, sandwiching me between two powerful bodies.  I can see Barbatos and Solomon over Mammon’s shoulder, their eyes wide.   
I heave to one side, breaking the boys’ hold on me, and roll up onto my knees. My back and legs feel leaden, and it takes all my effort to stay upright.  I try to say something, but end up coughing, trying to force stale smoke from my lungs.
Diavolo drapes his coat over me and Mammon rubs my back soothingly, urging me to relax.
“I got ya baby,” he murmurs reassuringly.  “Get it all out.”
Diavolo motions for Barbatos and gives him a series of whispered instructions.  Barbatos nods several times, then rushes out of the study, turning back to look at me one last time.  
I let out another harsh, hacking cough.  
“The fuck did you do to me Solomon?”  I mutter.  
Diavolo kneels and pulls my hair back from my face, easing some on my claustrophobia.  
Solomon barks out a surprised laugh.  “It really is you,” he says delightedly.  
“Of course it’s me, you fucking cut rate Harry Potter.”  I’m swaying on my hands and knees, exhausted.  “What happened?  Why is everything so heavy?”
Mammon helps me up to my knees and leans me against his chest.
“Are you real?  You’re really back?”  he whispers, hesitant and hopefully.
I nod, grateful to have him holding me upright.
He stays silent.  Uncertain.
“I was the one who kissed you, our very first time,” I begin, speaking slowly.  “We sneaked out after Lucifer did his room inspections that night.  We started at The Fall but we wound up at Hell’s Kitchen so you could play cards.”
Mammon’s heart is pounding in his chest, getting faster and faster with my every word.
“We had been there forever.  I was ready to go home.  But you were drinking and you were winning so you wanted to stay.  We made a bet on the next game.  If you win, we stay and you get a kiss.  If you lose, we go home and I got to pick a movie for us to watch together on our next movie night.”
Mammon’s fingers are stroking my cheek, listening intently to each low, labored word.  Diavolo kneeling next to me fades away; it’s just us two in this moment.  
“You lost.  It was raining outside and we had to run back to the House of Lamentation..... you were bitching and moaning the whole time.”  I grin at the memory.  “We couldn’t get in when we got home.  Lucifer figured out we were gone and locked us out.  I was cold and wet and tired of you bitching so I finally asked....” 
 I stop to cough.
“Ya asked me if I would shut the hell up if ya gave me that kiss I was asking for earlier,” Mammon picks up the story.  
“And you looked at me and said, “Maybe”.”  I croak out a laugh.  “So I pushed you against the door and kissed you.  We just stayed out there, kissing for I don’t even know how long.  Until Lucifer let us in.”
Mammon looks down at me, his eyes shining with unshed tears.  “It really is you,” he whispers.  
“Told you so.”
He gives me a soft kiss.  “Don’t ya dare ever do somethin’ like that again.  Ya ain’t allowed to leave me ever again.”
“How long was I out?”  I ask.
“You weren’t out baby.”  His voice breaks.  “You were gone.”
“No,” I shake my head.  “I saw you.  I was here.  I  - AH!”  
A blinding pain sears up my spine and it feels like someone has stuck their finger into a bundle of raw nerves.  
I look over my shoulder and see Diavolo touching my back delicately with one finger.  “Dia stop!”
The pain is so intense that the corners of my vision start to go dark.  I feel a heavy weight pulling me backwards, and something soft and fluttery tickles the back of my neck and waist, while something muscular and thick wraps around my left leg.   
I’m panting, on my hands and knees, waiting as the pain starts to level out.  “What was that?  What just happened?” 
Diavolo and Mammon snap to attention, Diavolo helping me up and Mammon arranging his coat so all my important bits are covered up.  The minute Diavolo lets go of my arm I start to fall, dragged backwards by an unfamiliar weight.
“I got you princess.”  Diavolo picks me up and I cling to him like a baby koala as he strides out of the study and up to our bedroom, Mammon following us. 
“Solomon, go ahead and stay in your usual room for the time being.  We’ll need to talk after we help Arianthi get cleaned up and we all get some rest,” Diavolo orders him. 
Diavolo is moving so quickly I can’t catch Solomon’s reply.  He doesn’t stop until we’re standing in front of the full length mirror in our bedroom.   I slide down to the floor and turn to face the mirror, Mammon on my right and Diavolo on my left.  
“Oh my dark lord,” I breathe.  
Mammon and Diavolo are grinning like idiots.
“Hang on baby, we got ya,” Mammon says.  He gently presses his hands between my should blades and massages softly while Diavolo bends down and carefully unwinds something from around my leg. 
Large, black feathered wings fan out behind me, matted and bloody, and a long tail coils behind me, thick and muscular, covered by black leathery skin.  My green eyes have taken on a golden sheen, mirroring Diavolo’s.  Mammon and Diavolo stand and return to my side.  
“We did it,” I whisper.
“You did it princess,” Diavolo murmurs.  “You came back all on your own.”  
He pulls me into a hug, careful of my new wings and the tender skin of my back.  
“l thought I lost you,” he whispers, kissing my forehead.  
“I told you a long time ago that I was tough,” I whisper back.  
“I’ll never doubt you again princess,” he says with a low chuckle.  
I look back into the mirror and wince.  I’m covered in blood, ashes, and various other substances I don’t care to think about.
Mammon’s arms snake around my waist and he kisses my cheek.  
“Don’t worry baby, we can stay here and clean ya up right.  Love on ya some.  Take all the time in the world,” he murmurs suggestively, smirking over at Diavolo.  
“Wait!  They were there!”  I grab Diavolo’s arm.  “Did you guys see them?”
“Hey, breathe princess.  Breathe for me.”  Diavolo rubs my shoulders, large hands warm and comforting.  “Who are ‘they’?”
I look back and forth between Mammon and Diavolo.  “Lilith and this other woman.  They sent me back.”
Mammon goes rigid at the mention of his sister.  “Lilith was there?”
I nod rapidly.  “She said I was in some sort of purgatory and I was only a little bit dead, but there was enough time for them to send me back.  I could see you in the study but it was all fuzzy.  She said that Diavolo’s dad was ‘powerful but not invincible’.”   
I stop to suck in some air.  Diavolo looks troubled and Mammon looks gobsmacked.
I take Mammon’s hand.  “She said you would always protect me.  And that she was proud of you.  She wanted me to tell you that.  That she was proud of you.”
He tears up, carefully folding me into his embrace.  He sniffles a little as I hug him tightly.  
“Arianthi?”  Diavolo asks quietly.  “Who else was there?  You said two women were there.  Who was there besides Lilith?”
I twist in Mammon’s arms to face Diavolo, staying firmly in Mammon’s embrace.  “I didn’t know her.  Her name was Morrigan.  I’ve never seen her before.”
“You’re sure her name was Morrigan?”  Diavolo asks, studying me carefully.
“That’s what Lilith called her.  Do you know her Dia?” 
“I never knew her.  She’s older than my father even.  I wasn’t even sure she existed to be perfectly honest,” Diavolo says, baffled.  “I’ll have to go through some books in the library tomorrow to make sure, but from what I remember of the old stories she was a very powerful demon.  The ancient Celts worshiped her as their goddess of destruction and war.  There’s been no mention of anyone seeing her in...............forever.”
“So sayin’ this Morrigan was the one with Lilith, why would she care about our girl?”  I can hear the confusion in Mammon’s voice.
“She said I was one of her’s.  She said that more than once Dia.”
Surprise spreads over Diavolo’s features.  “What else did she say?”
I close my eyes, trying to think back to Morrigan’s exact words.  
“She said I was entertaining and the first one of her’s to cause so much chaos in generations.  She said I was one of her favorites.  That you were a fine demon and you’ll be a great ruler.”  I smile.  “She said I chose well.  And that we need to be good to each other.”
When I open my eyes I see Diavolo staring at me intently.  He starts to laugh, tears forming at the corner of his eyes.
“What’re ya laughing at?”  Mammon sounds irritated.
“If she truly is one of Morrigan’s it means that Arianthi is descended from a demon as well as an angel.”
“What?!”
“Ow Mammon,” I frown, rubbing my ear.  “Too loud.”
“Sorry baby.”  He gives my ear a soft kiss.  “Ok, so our girl has demon and angel blood.  So what?”
I chew on my lower lip, thinking.  “Do you think she might have been lying about who she was?  Lilith would have known if she was lying right?”
Diavolo frowns and scrubs his hands over his face.  “I don’t know princess.  I really don’t know.  We’ll figure it though, I promise.”
I shuffle from side to side, itchy and ready to be clean again.  I don’t know what else to say.
“Alright.  That’s enough.  We’ve been awake for too damn long and Arianthi needs a shower. Hell, we all do,” Mammon says, taking charge.  “C’mon.  Inta the shower with both of ya.”
Mammon leads us into the bathroom, shutting the door softly.  He gathers me close and kisses me, gently pulling Diavolo’s coat and what’s left of my clothes away from my body.  
I hear Diavolo turning on the shower behind us, warm steam and the scent of vanilla wafting towards us, and the sound of his clothes softly hitting the tile floor.  Mammon puts his hands on my hips, backing me towards the shower, lips never leaving mine.
I stop moving when I feel Diavolo’s body at my back and his hands run over Mammon’s on my hips.  Mammon breaks our kiss long enough to shuck off his clothes, then gently urges Diavolo and I into the shower.
This shower is now officially as close to heaven as I’m ever going to get. 
A glorious artwork of glass and tile, with multiple shower heads, and more than large enough to fit all of us comfortably.........perfection.
I stand under the spray of water for a few minutes in silence, rinsing the worst of the blood and vomit from myself.  
“Who’s going to tell me what happened after everything went dark?”  I finally ask, as gently as I can.  
Mammon and Diavolo switch places, Mammon moving behind me while Diavolo faces me.
“What’s the last thing you remember?”  Diavolo asks, pouring some body wash into his hands, and then passing the bottle over my head to Mammon.
“Fire.  You two in front of me.  My skin was......burning.”
He stays silent as he runs soapy hands over my arms and chest.  “We tried to get to you but the fire kept us back.  It wasn’t natural.....it burned us when we tried to get through.”
I jump as I feel Mammon’s hands on my wings, long dexterous fingers cleaning and smoothing feathers, tucking them into place.
“Shhhh baby,” he says quietly.  “I’ll have ya all clean and feelin’ better in no time.”
“By the time the fire was low enough for us to get to you,” Diavolo pauses, his jaw clenched.  “You weren’t breathing but you were......”
“Lookin’ normal again.  Not burned.  Like nothin’ had happened,” Mammon says curtly, finishing for him.  His touch becomes rough for a second, and he immediately softens as I flinch.  “Sorry baby.”
I look down at my arms and legs; my skin is unmarked, not even a scratch.  I look back up at Diavolo in confusion.
“Barbatos heard the screams.  Solomon started looking for another ritual, one to bring you back.......” Diavolo trail offs.  
“How long was I gone?  It couldn’t have been that long.”
“Too goddamn long,” Mammon grunts behind me as Diavolo answers, “About twenty minutes.”
I start gnawing on my thumbnail anxiously.  
Dying twice in one year isn’t a good track record.  
A tapping sound echoes against the tile drumming in beat with the thoughts running though my mind.
“Arianthi?”  Diavolo holds my face in his hands.  “Calm down.  You need to breathe princess.”
“I’m calm, I’m totally calm,” I respond quickly.  
“Baby?”  Mammon rubs my shoulder and then points down.  My tail is tapping out a staccato beat on the tile floor of the shower.
“Oh.”  I make a conscious effort to slow my breathing and relax my body.  My tail - god how fucking weird is that - slows, then finally stills.  “Is that how it always is?”
“Yeah,” Mammon answers, continuing to preen my wings.  “It’s just another body part ya learn how to control.  Ya get used to it after a while.”
“How do I put them back?”
Diavolo shrugs.  “It’s not hard.  Relax and try to clear your mind from everything else.  Then just picture your human form.”
“Give me a few more seconds back here.”  Mammon tucks the last few feathers into place, smoothing the barbs down.  “Alright, give it a try baby.”
I close my eyes, concentrating on the steam and the noise of water hitting tile.  I picture myself like I was before the ritual, when I was truly happy, tucked safely in bed between Mammon and Diavolo.  There’s a moment of sharp pain, and then the extra weight on my back and shoulders vanishes.  
“Ya did it!”  Mammon says proudly, kissing my neck.
I turn in his arms, lacing my hands behind his neck.  He surges forward and presses his lips to mine.  He licks along my lower lip, then gives it a harsh nip.  I open my mouth, eagerly allowing him access.  His tongue strokes mine and his hands slide over my waist and down my hips, moving to caress my ass.  
Maybe it’s the rush of being a newly turned demon, or maybe I’m just happy to not be dead, but I need to feel his body against mine.  His warmth makes me feel alive, his mouth against mine sparking a familiar heat low in my core.  I just need.
Diavolo presses against my back, cock hard and firm against my ass.  His hands run over my sides, reaching forward to stroke Mammon’s cock.  Mammon moans into my mouth, his hips rutting forward against Diavolo’s hand.  I card my hands through his hair, tugging his head to the side and kissing his neck.  
We spent a few minutes teasing and touching, reaffirming our connection to each other.  Reassuring each other that we’re all together and safe.  Diavolo suddenly pulls back, surprising me and Mammon.
I feel Diavolo’s eyes on me and I turn around to face him.  “What are you thinking about Dia?”
His eyes cloud over and he flushes with shame, looking guilty.  
“I should never have pushed you to do that,” he whispers.  “I was so afraid of losing you that I didn’t think about anything else and you......” He chokes up.  “You died.  That was my fault.  I was so sure I was right that I willingly put you in danger.  I killed you.”
“Oh Dia, no.  Don’t do that.”  I step into his arms, wrapping my arms around his waist and laying my head against his chest.  “I agreed to it.  I took that risk.  And it worked out.  I’m here and I’m fine,”  I try to reassure him.
“Because someone else interfered and brought you back,” Diavolo challenges me.  
I stay silent, unable to argue.  Mammon hugs Diavolo, leaning his head against his shoulder, offering silent comfort.  
“If that hadn’t happened and Solomon couldn’t figure out a way to bring you back.............”  Diavolo’s voice is bitter and filled with self-loathing.  
I don’t know what to say.  What he’s saying is true but oddly, I’m not angry about it.  
I’m not dead, I’m strong enough to live through whatever his father may throw at us, and I get to stay with Diavolo and Mammon without worrying about old age, or any of the other dangers that come with being human in the Devildom.
“Diavolo.  Shut up,”  Mammon commands.  Diavolo looks down at him in confusion, stunned into obedience.  “I’m still not happy about the heavy handed way ya went about it, but it ended up bein’ the best decision.  Arianthi’s here and she’s fine.  Better than fine.  I just wanna enjoy the fact that our girl is safe and she’s here.  And she’s like us now.....We don’t have to worry about losin’ her ever again.”  
Mammon sounds exhausted.  “I just wanna enjoy havin’ both of ya with me.  We can figure everything else out later.  Can we just focus on lovin’ each other for a few hours instead of all this other bullshit?  Get some damn rest?”  
I’m very conscious of the fact that we’re all still naked, slick with water and steam from the shower, and I’m eager to forget the last 12 hours.
Is that all it’s been?  This night has gone on forever.
“Mammon’s right Dia,” I murmur, running my hands over his chest and down his stomach.  
“We just pulled off something totally insane.”  My hand strays even lower, stroking his cock.  “Let’s celebrate a little bit, show how much we love each other.”
“Fuck princess.”  Diavolo chuckles, moving his hands under my thighs, lifting me up and pressing my back against the wall of the shower.  The cool tile is soothing against the tender skin of my back, and Diavolo is careful to not be too rough with me.  
“You two present a very powerful argument,” Diavolo says, smirking at me.
I wrap my legs around his waist and wiggle against him.  “Wasting time Dia.”
The head of his cock brushes against my clit, and I buck my hips against him, urging him to hurry.  He gives a low grunt and slowly lowers me onto his cock.  I’m slick with arousal, ready for him without any of our usual prep.  I moan as his cock stretches me, burying my face into his neck.  
Encouraged by my noises of enjoyment Diavolo thrusts up into me, eager but cautious, not wanting to hurt me.  I snake a hand up the back of his neck and into his hair, giving it a sharp yank.
“Faster,” I whisper into his ear, softly biting his earlobe. 
I look over Diavolo’s shoulder and see Mammon standing behind him, running his hands and mouth over Diavolo’s back.  He marks him with love bites, lowering his hands to massage Diavolo’s thighs.  
Diavolo shudders at his touch and moves his hips faster, rutting up into me hard when Mammon slips a slender finger in his ass, teasing and stretching, preparing Diavolo for what’s coming next.
Diavolo groans with lust.  “Mammon.........Arianthi....” he pants.
Mammon sinks his teeth into Diavolo’s shoulder, adding a second finger, never losing his rhythm.  “Better fuck our girl a little harder than that, she’s not making enough noise.”    
Diavolo obeys his command and I cry out, the sound echoing off the tile of the shower.  
“Fuck!”  I whimper, clinging tight to his shoulders, as his cock pounds into my pussy at the perfect angle.  
My legs tighten around his waist as I cum, pussy clenching around his thick cock, urging him to cum with me as Mammon finger fucks his ass.
“Nah,” Mammon teases, stilling the motions of his hand.  “You’re not cummin’ yet Diavolo.”
Diavolo whimpers, rutting into me.  “Please....please don’t stop now.”
“Let’s move to the bed,” I murmur, kissing him and biting at his lower lip.  “Let us take care of you Dia.”
Diavolo reluctantly releases me while Mammon turns off the shower.  The short trip to the bed seems to take forever; Diavolo is tense with lust and the stress of the past day, and he keeps sneaking touches and kisses from us until Mammon slaps his hand away.  He pushes Diavolo onto the bed, keeping me by his side.
“Bend over,” he growls, pushing me forwards a little.  “Hands on the mattress.”  
I obey while Diavolo looks on in confusion.  Mammon runs his hands down my spine, stroking slowly, before moving his hands a little lower to arch my hips until they’re just so.  Diavolo looks on, biting his lip, while Mammon slowly thrusts his cock into my pussy, inch by inch.  His makes a small whining noise, watching Mammon fuck me, eyes dark with lust and impatience.  
“You think he’s waited long enough baby?”  Mammon mutters, his hips moving excruciatingly slowly.  
I consider Diavolo, taking my time and smirking, while I enjoy the feeling of Mammon’s cock.  “Yeah.....yeah I think so.”
Mammon slowly pulls out, caressing my ass.  “Give me a kiss then get up there with him,” he demands playfully. 
I turn and give him a deep kiss, teasing him with my tongue.  
“So bossy tonight baby,” I murmur against his lips.  “I didn’t know you had in you,” I tease.
“Neither did I,” Mammon chuckles darkly.  “But I’m gettin’ into it.”
I climb up next to Diavolo and we both restlessly wait for Mammon’s next commands.
Mammon tosses Diavolo a pillow.  “Put that under your hips,” he says, moving between Diavolo’s legs and hooking them over his thighs.  Mammon looks at me and jerks his head towards Diavolo.  
“Ride,” he says with a smirk.
I giggle and move to straddle Diavolo.  
I like this side of Mammon.  Really, really like it.
“Holy fuck,” Diavolo whispers as I sink down on his cock.  
I start to move my hips, pulling off of him completely, then slowly taking his thick cock all the way back in my pussy.  He moans, then jerks suddenly, and I look over my shoulder to see Mammon, stroking his cock while he finger fucks Diavolo’s ass.
“I wanna fuck ya Diavolo,” he growls.  “Only if you want it.” 
Diavolo nods helplessly, throwing his head back against the pillows as his large hands grip my hips.  
“Words Dia,” I tell him playfully.  “Use your words.”  
I tease his nipples with my fingertips while I ride him, relishing his eyes on me.
“Yes,” he gasps.  “Yes, I want you to fuck me Mammon.”
Mammon makes an intelligible noise deep in his throat.  I look back again, watching him remove his fingers from Diavolo’s ass, then gently thrust his cock into Diavolo’s hole, stretching him slowly and thoroughly.  Once he bottoms out, he holds himself still, giving Diavolo time to adjust.
“This ok?”  Mammon asks, waiting for a signal to move.  
“Fuck yes,” Diavolo hisses between his teeth; torn between moving his hips up to meet my mine as I ride him, or pushing them down to meet Mammon’s thrusts.  
Seeing him so uncertain, a writhing, whimpering mess, and feeling the aftershocks of Mammon’s rough thrusts and his harsh breathing against my back as he fucks Diavolo drives me closer to my second orgasm.  
Mammon’s hand comes down hard on my shoulder, limiting my movement, and forcing me to grind down against Diavolo, taking his cock even deeper in my pussy.
Diavolo’s hand slides down his stomach to the point where our bodies meet, and he uses two calloused fingers to tease and rub my clit.  I moan and bite my lip, rolling my hips faster.  Diavolo thrusts up into me sloppily, close to his own orgasm.
Mammon gives a low laugh, still fucking Diavolo while he watches both of us come undone.  
“That’s right baby...... I wanna watch you cum while you ride him.  Diavolo I wanna feel ya cum inside our girl, feel this tight little hole of yours clench down on my cock while I got it buried deep in your ass.”
His words push me over the edge and I cum, taking Diavolo deep for the last time, my pussy twitching and spasming around his thick cock as I cry out his name.  
I feel Diavolo shudder, warm cum spurting into my pussy over and over.  I fall forward, bracing myself against his chest while I give him a deep kiss.  I hear Mammon let out a guttural moan, and feel the telltale tremors of his hips moving roughly and slamming his cock into Diavolo’s ass one last time as he cums.
Diavolo whines in protest when Mammon and I finally move off of him, making grabby motions at us.  “Come here.”
We lay down on each side of him, cuddling into him, and he wraps an arm around each of us, pulling us as close as possible.  
“That was a fantastic suggestion Mammon,” Diavolo sighs, kissing him softly on the lips before turning his head and kissing me as well.  
Mammon and I rest our heads on each side of Diavolo’s chest, smiling gently at each other.  
I love you, he mouths at me.
I love you too, I mouth back. 
“Let’s get a few hours of rest,” Diavolo murmurs, already sounding sleepy.  “We are going to have one hell of a conversation with Solomon and Barbatos when we wake up.”
Mammon and I mumble our agreement, eyelids already fluttering with exhaustion. 
“I love you Arianthi,” Diavolo whispers.
“I love you too Dia.”
“Mammon?”  he says hesitantly.
“Mmmm?’
“You’re very special to me.”
The last thing I see before I drift off to sleep is Mammon’s shy smile as he responds.  “You’re special to me too Diavolo.”
Something rouses me from a deep sleep.  I look around the bedroom blearily; it’s completely dark.  Diavolo is still sleeping next to me, Mammon snoring softly beside him.  
I sit up and tilt my head to the side, listening carefully.  I hear a raised voice from the lower floor of the castle and the sound of several pairs of feet thudding up the stairs.
“Dia!”  I start shaking his shoulder.  “Dia wake up!  Someone’s here and I heard Barbatos shouting.”
“Barbatos doesn’t shout,” Diavolo mutters, pulling a pillow over his head, never even opening his eyes.
“Dia wake up and listen!”  I snatch the pillow away.
He blinks, giving me a dirty look before hearing the footsteps.  They’ve reached the top of the staircase now.  He props himself up on one forearm, reaching back to shake Mammon.
“Whaddaya want?”  Mammon grumbles, his head popping up over Diavolo’s shoulder.  His messy hair is haloed around his head and his eyes are barely open.
“Listen!”  I whisper. 
“That’s not Barbatos,” he says, eyes widening as he hears the commotion in the hallway now.
“Definitely not.”  Diavolo looks serious.  “Out of bed.  Get dressed quickly.  Whoever it is I’d rather meet them when we’re not naked.”
I pull back the blankets, ready to get out of bed, when the door to our bedroom flies open, slamming loudly against the wall.  I throw a hand up in self-defense, scooting back towards Diavolo.
Diavolo throws one arm around me, pulling me to him and pushing my head into his chest, his other hand reaching out for Mammon.  After a moment he gives a loud roar of outrage that vibrates in his chest, quickly followed by Mammon yelling, “Oi!  The fuck are you doing here?!”
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let-me-write-shit · 5 years ago
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Like We Used To: 12
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A/N: *WARNING* SMUT!!!!!!!!
I’ll put **** at the beginning and end of it so you can skip if you want. This chapter makes me soft and suuuper sappy. Give me your feedback. What do you want these two crazy kids to get up to? Any clue where you think this is headed? I’d love to hear your theories and input.
Don’t forget to like it!!!!
[Read Previous Chapters Here]
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CHAPTER TWELVE
The first morning back home was pretty grey and it looked like it might rain. Today was Elizabeth’s last official “day off”. Harry still hadn’t called her, and all she wanted to do was eat, watch sappy romantic comedies, and mope around all day. She decided to put on ‘Crazy Rich Asians’ and plopped on the couch with a bowl of popcorn and a cup of tea under a warm throw blanket when her doorbell sounded. ‘Weird. I don’t remember ordering anything’ she thought to herself, dragging her feet to the front door and pulling it open. Her mouth fell and he stood there in shock.
“Is that my hoodie you’re wearing?” Harry smirked, wearing casual black jeans, a white t-shirt, and sunglasses. He had his duffel bag hanging on a shoulder, a guitar strapped to his back, and carried two large brown grocery bags.
Elizabeth looked down, realizing that she was still wearing his hoodie, suddenly feeling a bit self conscious of her sloppy appearance. She stepped to the side allowing him to come in, slicking back some loose hairs that strayed from her messy bun and stammering, “What the hell are you doing here? How did you know where I lived?”
He stepped in and set his stuff down by the front door as she closed it, hanging his sunglasses on the side of his overnight bag. “I had to call Lewis for your address as soon as he got off the plane. You said that we needed time apart to think about what we really wanted out of this.”
“Yeah?”
“Well...I thought about it.....”
“Harry, it’s only been twenty four hours,” Elizabeth laughed.
He chuckled, “Yeah well that was enough time for me. I already know what I want. More time with you. So I thought that if you weren’t going to come with me, then I was going to come to you.”
She looked down at all of his things, “And how long do you plan on staying here? A month?”
“There’s more bags in the car.” he laughed, “I’m off until Saturday morning then I fly out to LA for a week to do some press. So I plan on spending the next four days trying to convince you to come with me.”
Elizabeth looked at him incredulously. This man was out of his fucking mind! Still, she couldn’t help but be slightly impressed with him and the amount of effort he had put in. She decided that she would entertain his crazy idea. It was only four days, anyway.
She gave Harry a quick tour. The kitchen overlooked the dining area and living room. Her bedroom wasn’t huge, but it did have a balcony, and the second bedroom was converted to an office/reading room, though she hardly used it for that because she always wound up taking her work to the living room. She had done a lot of decorating since moving in a month ago, trying to make her home feel more cozy now that she was living on her own. Her place wasn’t big, but she was proud of it.
There didn’t seem to be any judgment from Harry as he complimented her designing capabilities, heading back to the living room. He grabbed one of the brown bags that he had brought, and carried it over to the couch, pulling out items.
“So, when I got in my car to leave yesterday, I found these,” Harry explained, showing the box of plastic spoons they had bought at the grocery store the night of the dare, “So I obviously had to stop and pick us up some ice cream,” he took out two personal size containers of chocolate ice cream and two of his magnum white chocolate ice cream. “And I also got some oreos, and some ingredients to make some pasta tonight for dinner because I know pasta is your favorite.”
Elizabeth beamed at him, shaking her head and joking, “I either must have been really good in bed, or you just really want your hoodie back.”
Harry’s dimples deepened when he laughed, “I told you, I wanted to spend more time with you….and you were really good in bed.”
She blushed, “So what’s in the other bag?”
“Oh, that’s for later,” he smirked.
Elizabeth eyes him suspiciously before they decided to eat some of their ice cream for lunch and continue watching the rest of the film. Hours had passed and all they managed to do was make a mess with the popcorn and talk throughout multiple movies when the sun finally started to set. They had taken the ingredients that Harry had brought to make chicken mozzarella pasta with sun-dried tomatoes to the kitchen and start the prep. Her kitchen was pretty small, so it was a tight squeeze, but they managed to make it work with lots of laughter.
It had stopped raining by then, so they decided to take their dinner out to her balcony to eat because her flat sat up on a hill and they were able to get a nice view of the city from there. It was one of the main reasons she decided to move there. It was pretty romantic with the string lights and candles lit. They ate and talked about the dreams they had when they were kids, comparing it to where they are now. Harry seemed humbled by the success he’s had. Even Elizabeth was happy with how her life had turned out. She’s had her fair share of struggles, but seemed to be on an uphill climb when she had her career change.
They had long since finished dinner and were leaning each other on the patio couch when Elizabeth finally remembered, “So what was with that other brown bag you brought?”
Harry grinned and stood up, “Stay here. Don’t come in yet,” and slipped back into her room, closing the sliding door and blinds so she couldn’t see.
She heard his footsteps disappear and then reappear. After about ten minutes and a lot of rustling around she noticed her bedroom lights go off, but a slight glow was noticeable through the blinds. 
Finally, the door slid open and Harry’s head popped out, “Ok, stand up and close your eyes.”
She did as she was told, giggling, “What the heck are you doing?”
Elizabeth felt his soft hands grab hers and he slowly led her inside, the soft scent of spices and florals filled the air. Her eyebrows furrowed when he finally whispered, “Okay, open.” Her eyes fluttered open and she let out an audible gasp. Lit candles and rose petals scattered the entire room. 
She turned to Harry, stunned, and whispered, “Why?”
He smiled lovingly at her, “You were unimpressed the first time I brought you to my room because I didn’t have candles and rose petals. So I made sure I didn’t make that mistake again.”
“Harry,” she breathed, getting emotional.
“Look,” Harry said, taking her hands and leading her to the edge of the bed, “I know this weekend has been...kind of a whirlwind. And I know that you’re still a little hesitant to trust me after what I did last time, which I understand. But I’m just trying to show you how much you really do mean to me. And I understand that it’s still too early to have any labels on us so, in the words of you, maybe we can just take it slow and have fun?”
Elizabeth collected herself and looked into his green eyes, transfixed. How is this boy even real? It’s not possible for someone to be this perfect. Suddenly she felt herself being filled with exhilaration and she said, “Harry Styles, if you don’t kiss me right now…”
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He flashed a quick smile before crashing his lips onto hers. As they slid further onto the bed, they both hastily started ripping their clothes off of themselves, tossing them wherever. Elizabeth pushed Harry down on his back and his hands by his head as she trailed kisses from his lips, lightly biting his neck, and down further towards his chest and his waist. When she finally reached his stiff cock. He lifted his head to watch as she lightly ran her hand up the length before taking a firmer grip, pumping. She smirked up at him and let her tongue glide from his base to the tip before letting a wad of her spit fall onto it for lubrication and taking him into her mouth.
Harry grunted and threw his head back as she took him further into her mouth, pumping the base with one hand while the other hand massaged his balls. He forced himself to grab himself out of her and roughly flung her around so that she was now laying back onto the bed. He fixed her legs on either side of him and bent down, tongue circling her nipples, tracing his tongue down to navel, and then her clit, lifting her legs onto his shoulders. He flicked his tongue on her before taking her into his mouth. His tongue trailed the length of her pussy and he sucked on her clit as she moaned. With every moan, he gripped onto her ass harder, pulling her even tighter to his mouth. The stubble around his lips massaged the lips of her pussy which made her grab a fistfull of his hair and squeeze.
“Fuck me,” she begged.
Harry lightly bit her thigh sitting up straighter, her legs still on his shoulder, and taking hold of his penis. He pressed it to her pussy, circling her clit. She was wet enough to lubricate his tip and he slowly slid inside her, forcing her to breathe in hard. Harry began to pump faster in and out of her, harder and harder, gripping onto her legs that rested on his shoulders, kissing them when her back arched in pleasure. 
“I’m almost there,” Elizabeth squeaked.
This made Harry pump faster and harder, panting, “Cum for me.”
Elizabeth tensed up and held her breath before letting out a scream, body shaking. Harry took this as a sign of her finishing and quickly pulled out, flipping her over onto her hands and knees and pushing himself inside of her, doggy style. He pushed her head down towards the bed and grabbed her hips, pulling her into him, going deeper inside her. 
“Fuck, Lizzy! You’re so sexy,” He whimpered, watching her ass ripple every time he collided with her.
“Harder!” Elizabeth begged.
He felt himself near climax, “I’m gonna cum.” 
He pulled out and Elizabeth quickly, wanting to taste him, spun around and took him back into her mouth, tasting her juices on him. She quickly bobbed her head onto his cock and felt it throb as he filled her mouth with cum. He let out a grunt, holding onto her hair for support before releasing it and collapsing on his legs. Elizabeth swallowed and wiped her mouth, falling backwards onto her bed.
*****************************************************
“Wow,” he breathed.
Elizabeth laughed, “Yeah.”
After a minute to catch their breath, Elizabeth got up from the bed, went to the bathroom to relieve herself, brushed her teeth, and grabbed the pack of oreos from downstairs before taking it back to her bedroom where Harry was now sitting up on her bed. She only just noticed that her balcony doors were still open and she laughed again.
“Well, the whole neighborhood could probably hear that,” she tossed the pack of cookies on the bed, crawling beside him, both of them still naked.
He ripped the pack open and shoved a cookie in his mouth, “It’s only 10 PM on a Tuesday.”
Elizabeth bit into a cookie and chewed before saying, “Just to warn you, I have my alarm set for 7AM because I have work in the morning. I do have a few online meetings but I’ll take it to the office.”
“It’s okay, I’m a morning person anyway.”
Elizabeth grimaced, “Ew. The worst kind of person.”
They shared an entire sleeve of oreos again before putting it to the side and getting under the covers, deciding they should go to bed. Elizabeth nuzzled into Harry’s neck and he held her, stroking her arm and he whispered, “I’m glad I came back,” before they fell asleep together.
KEEP READING
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writinginthedarkwood · 5 years ago
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BNHA Black Eyed Kids. Denki Kaminari x Reader.
Hey I know I should have posted this during spooky season, but really, in this house, It’s monster boy season all year round!!
*** To my followers waiting for another alien fic, it’s coming I promise! I’ve got two in my drafts!***
You were in your favorite t shirt and flannel pajama bottom combo when the door bell rang. It’s a cold, fall night. The kind where the air was heavy and crisp at the same time, nipping at your exposed ears and the tip of your nose. It smelled like damp, decaying leaves in your neighborhood. It was rare you had your parents house completely to yourself, you didn’t tell them when saying goodbye at the airport that you were nervous because well, you weren’t. You explained repeatedly that you would be fine on your own, but after that horror movie on Netflix you couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
You sat frozen, snack half way to your mouth when it first rang out. Your heart beat started to pick up, why would someone come by after dark? “Yeah that’s definitely a serial killer.” You saw your front door from your spot, it was locked tight. Nobody could get in right?
The door bell rang again.
“Come on dummy, it’s not a serial killer. It’s probably just the neighbor, or a late night package delivery.” Your mom orders a ton of stuff online, it’s not an impossible idea.
You slipped on your pair of slippers with the bunny ears, and padded over to the door.
You opened the door just a crack.
It was... a boy? He looked about your age. He wore a black leather jacket and a band tee underneath it. His hair was jagged and bright, but most of his face was covered by a thick pair of black sunglasses. “Hey Y/N!”
“Denki?” You hadn’t seen your friend in a long time. Years actually.
You opened the door a little farther, suddenly feeling embarrassed about your outfit. “I’m so glad you recognize me! I was worried you wouldn’t know who I was.” He flashed you a bright toothy grin. “What are you doing here?” You squeaked out from behind the crack in the door.
“It’s been awhile, I thought maybe I could just drop by.” He looked over your head an peered into your home. “Are you... by yourself?” He ran a hand through his hair as he asked you. “My parents are on vacation...” You opened the door a bit further and leaned against the frame. “I’m not sure I should uhm, invite you in...” He laughed a bit and you displayed a silly smile, grateful he wasn’t making this too awkward. “No, no I get it! Completely, I mean it is kind of late...” He trailed off a bit. “I just uh, I was driving nearby and stopped for gas. This is embarrassing, but I accidentally locked my key’s in my car.” You couldn’t tell much about his facial expression from behind the shades. It’s so dark, how can he drive with those things on? “And my stupid cell phone.” He looked down at the ground and bit his lip. “I knew you lived around here, and I was hoping I could uhm, borrow a phone.”
Your cell phone is charging in your bedroom, and your land line your parents insisted on keeping hung in the kitchen. “Oh, of course. I mean, I can’t leave you stranded.” You weighed the options over in your head, I mean you know your family would flip if they found out you had a boy in the house without permission, but I mean come on. Your getting older now, and they always taught you to look out for others. “Sure let me grab my phone real quick...” You turned to leave him their on the porch but he called out to you. “Hey would you mind if I stepped inside? It’s kind of cold, and it’s pretty dark.” He smiled warmly at you and something twinged at your heart strings. It was a long time ago, and you two were pretty young, but you always had something for Denki. He was funny, out going and adorable. You wondered where he had gone, rumor had it he got accepted into a prestigious school but, you hadn’t really heard anything else about him. “Yeah uhm, come on in. Let me grab my cell phone.” You opened the door for him and stepped aside. Denki crossed the threshold and smiled, taking a deep breath. “Thank Y/N, it’s so warm in here.” He put both of his hands in his pockets and lingered by the door. You walked away, heading for the stairs to your room. Denki closed the door behind him and locked the bottom lock, and the chain. He helped himself to looking through the items in the living room, picking up your can of cola and taking a sip. He smirked at your paused Netflix queue. “You really shouldn’t be scaring yourself with such silly things Y/N...” He sat down on the couch and felt the fabric of your favorite childhood blanket. “So cute...” He muttered under his breath.
Your feet were light on the stair case, but Denki heard you coming anyway. “Here! I unlocked it for you.” You smiled, and handed him your smart phone. “Cool, I’ll just text my friend to come pick me up.”
He typed into your phone and you sat down beside him. Your nerves got the best of you, you had quickly thrown a bra on and fixed your hair a bit before coming back down. Even tying your over sized shirt to sit right over your hips, you almost didn’t add that detail, but at the last second decided to do it. If he was going to wear his sunglasses to look cool, you could at least try and look cute right?
“So how have you been?” He put his arm across the back of the couch. His fingers gently brushed against the back of your head before resting on the back cushion.
The two of you engaged in small talk for a minute, but soon you were talking and joking like you did when you were little children. Denki said something funny enough to make you snort laugh, your face blushed terribly. “Oh don’t be embarrassed. That was cute.” He smiled and the two of you got quiet for a second. You hadn’t realized it’d already almost been an hour. Denki leaned in closer to you, his lips parted. You felt your eyelids flutter close and your airway tighten. You leaned to close the gap, but something falling over upstairs startled you and you jumped. “What was that?” You asked quietly, your eyes wide. “It was probably nothing. You alright?” He touched your hand and you settled a bit. “It sounded loud, like a person.” You tried to laugh, but the air came out whispy and cracked. “I can check it out if you want.”
“Don’t be silly, you’re right it was nothing.” You listened to the quiet of your empty home. You didn’t hear anything else. You two started to talk again, the mood lightening back up. You looked over Denki’s shoulder and noticed something rush by the window, something tall. A shadow? Or was that a person?
You gasped and grabbed onto Denki’s hands. “Somebody just walked by the window!”
“What?” He looked and saw nothing, but stood up off of the couch anyway. “Okay let me take a look around, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
He walked across the living room and peered out the window. You could see the side of his face better, he narrowed his eyes. “I think I see something.” He turned to you and crossed his arms. “Are all the doors locked?”
You played with your fingernails on the couch. “I can’t remember if I locked the kitchen door.” You thought about calling your parents and spilling everything. Begging them to hop on the next flight home. You reached for your phone and realized you didn’t know where it was. “Come on, let’s go look.” You nodded your head and grabbed onto the back of Denki’s jacket. He lead you through your home to the kitchen and you couldn’t help but kind of cower. He left you by your kitchen table and examined the glass sliding doors. “Looks locked to me.” He jiggled the door handle and it hardly budged. “Are there any other doors?”
Your jaw dropped open and you screamed a gut wrenching, raw screech. A boy with vibrant green hair, was staring at you intently from the window with a terrifying smile. His eyes were cold and dark, void of any pigment they were glossy and unblinking. He cocked his head to the side and tapped on the window with a finger. “D-denki!!” He rushed over to your side and hid you behind him. outstretching his arm across you like a seat belt. His finger hardly pulled away from the glass before pressing it back down, the window cracked and burst, glass flying in a spread across the kitchen floor. He gripped the side of the ledge and started to pull himself through without a word. You felt frozen, your feet glued to your spot behind your childhood friend. He was calm, took a deep breath and started to push you farther away. He realized you weren’t moving and firmly gripped your hand. “Run.” He said without any fear in his voice, confident and prepared to keep you safe from the sudden intruder. He pulled you into the hall, running past all of your family photo’s and the decorations your mom filled the space with. He stopped in his tracks and you screamed again, cowering behind him with tears stinging your panicked eyes. A girl with tinted pink skin and twisted horns sat causally on your couch, she stared at you with the same glassy black eyes as the boy in the kitchen. She was helping herself to your popcorn. Another boy was crawling through your living room window by gripping the glass and hooking onto the wall like a spider. His black hair sat flat against his head and his smile was wide. “What a nice place you got!” He called out, hanging upside down on your ceiling now. Some type of sticky material shot out of his elbows and attached itself to the T.V. remote he pulled it back to himself with a laugh. “What the hell is happening!?” You shouted and the girl giggled. Denki pulled you to the stair case and shoved you onto the carpet incline. You tripped a bit but quickly pulled yourself up by the railing and ran as fast as you could towards your bedroom. 
You flung the door open and gasped. A boy with bright red hair sticking straight up off of his head was laying on your bed reading your journal. Your lamp was laying on it’s side on the ground, the light bulb broken. He looked up at you with sharpened teeth and the same horrible, emotionless eyes. “Hey! What are you doing!?” You felt less afraid for your life and more embarrassed at your invasion of privacy. You rushed to the side of your bed and tried to rip the diary out of his hands. The boy quickly grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to him. “No need to be rude Y/N! I’m just trying to learn more about you is all.” He opened his mouth and let a slobbery red tongue fall out of his mouth, his top teeth grazed your wrist and you screamed, his drool fell in drops onto your bed sheets. Denki grabbed you by your waist and yanked you away from the monster. The two of you rushed to the hallway.
The house shook, you almost fell to your knee’s but Denki helped hold you steady. You looked down the stair case, your front door flew across the floor and you heard it shatter against the wall. “Did something just explode?” Your ears were ringing and your entire body was shaking. “We need to hide!” Denki pulled you into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, locking it. You sat down on the floor against the bathtub and hugged your legs in the dark. “I don’t understand what’s going on.” You wanted to cry, you could probably fall out of the bathroom window, you know you would fit even though it’s sort of small. But it’s a straight drop to the ground, and you’re sure you would break something. Denki sat down beside you and put his arm around your shoulders. He held you against his chest and rubbed your back. “Do you have any idea why you would be targeted like this? Did anyone know about your parents being gone?” He asked in a whisper. “No! I mean a few of my parents friends maybe, some kids from school knew I was coming home for the weekend but-” You tried to keep your voice low but controlling your tone was hard. You were shivering, it was getting freezing in here. “I’m just glad you’re here...”
You thought for a moment. He’s been gone for years, he never sent you a message, nobody had heard from him in so long. It was like he died, you had even mourned him secretly. You thought you’d never see him again, and then suddenly he showed up on your doorstep.
“Denki...” You hardly managed to speak his name. “Wh-who did you message to uhm, come pick you up?”  You whispered to him and he held you a bit tighter. “Maybe they’ll be here soon and they’ll call the police...” You hoped and prayed to anything that might be listening. You begged the universe to let this suspicious feeling be wrong, that this was all a coincidence.  “You know, I was wondering how long it would take you to put things together.”
You swallowed hard. His fingers traced over your arm and he brought his face closer to yours. He took a deep inhale, his lips dragged across your jaw. You put both of your hands on his chest and pushed him off of you. You scrambled away and flipped on the light. You gripped the door knob but instantly pulled away, it was frozen solid, the metal was so cold that if you held onto it any longer you would surely get stuck to it. “I really missed you so much. Being away from you was starting to get to be too painful...” He held his arms out like he was welcoming you back to him. “Denki please, what’s going on...” You whimpered and he took his glasses off. His facial features are as sweet as you remembered, but everything was wrong. His skin was a bit more pale, he had deep purple bags under his eyes like he hasn’t had a good nights sleep in years. He once had vibrant yellow eyes to match his electric personality, but they’ve been replaced by gleaming black orbs. “Just take a deep breath baby, everything will make more sense soon.” You couldn’t do anything but shake your head no, you wanted to sink into the door, but it was covered in a thick coat of ice. Denki pulled you back to him and pressed your back against your sink. “No, no no what are you-” Denki held you by your hips firmly and kissed your cheek. He flashed you a bright smile filled with wicked teeth. Your stomach was a confusing mixture of fear and butterflies. His fangs grazed against your neck, he kissed right over your jugular. “P-please d-don’t kill me..” You cried out, your hands gripped the sink counter with white knuckles. You hated that you had a terrible urge to embrace him. “Shh, shhhh baby. You won’t be dead for long. You’ll come back as soon as the last drop of blood leaves your sweet neck, you’ll come back and you’ll be with me.” Tears finally fell over your eyelids and you let out a choking sob. “We’ll never be apart again”
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spookysweet-heart · 5 years ago
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A Spooky Night With You
Request: “You're like my new writing hero. Maybe planning/spending Halloween with Lydia, please? Like, if you'll do matching costumes and what they are, what you'll do together the night of (movie night, party, school dance, whatever you think would work for you best honestly), things like that? Preferably for a female reader?”
Pairings: Lydia Deetz x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Beetlejuice! The Musical!
Warnings: None
A/n: Let’s kick off this spooky season on this blog with something scary(ish), something sweet, and pretty gay. Hope you all like it! (Collage was made by me!)
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      “(Y/n), C’mon we’re gonna be late!” Lydia shouted up to your bedroom window.
Popping your head out your window you looked down at your girlfriend and waved off her concern. “I just need to get my bag and I’ll be right down!!”
Ducking back into your room you double-check your face paint one more time and grab your bag rushing down the staircase. Giving your parents a quick wave goodbye you bolt right out the door smiling wide when you look over at Lydia wearing her black and white outfit and matching Skull make up. She decided to do her whole face while you only did half of yours. 
Lydia held up her finger, as you got closer to her you held up yours and intwined your fingers together like a pinkie promise. Smiling at each other you couldn’t help but giggle at how silly the act was, You couldn’t help it either since you two agreed to do that instead of actually giving each other kisses while you both were wearing facepaint.
Taking her hand in yours you two started to walk to school. It was pretty fun walking by the little kids when they would look over at the two of you with amazement and sometimes terror in their eyes.
Once getting into the school you two looked around at everyone’s costumes and complimented some of them while getting compliments on your own.
The day went on as usual and nothing out of the ordinary. So it was pretty nice to just see everyone being spooky and having fun. Especially Lydia, You know Halloween is her favorite Holiday and seeing her light up at everything creepy and spooky was so cute since it was rare the rest of the year.
At the end of the day, you were hanging around Lydia’s locker when someone came up to the two of you. “Hey, are two going to Amys Halloween party tonight?”
Lydia smiled and shook her head. “No, we’re gonna be giving out candy at my house.”
“Your house? Isn’t it haunted? Are sure any kids would show up?”
“I’m pretty sure they will, kids love all spooky things so why not get a thrill of going to an actual haunted house?”
“That’s true...maybe we’ll stop by before to party for a bit if that’s okay?” 
“Yeah, yeah that’s fine. We’ll see you later then.”
You both waved goodbye to them as they did the same while walking out of school.
You look over at Lydia and raise an eyebrow at her. “Are you really sure it’s okay for them to stop by? I thought you never wanted anyone else from school at your house?”
“It’s Halloween, might as well let Beej have some fun too right?” Lydia gave you a knowing smile and took your hand leading you out of the school, and on the path to her place.
---------
Setting up the two huge bowls of candy on the two chairs on Lydia’s porch, you were quick to slap Beetlejuice’s hand away from the bowls. “Why do you want any of the candy? You can’t even eat it anyway.”
“Just because I can’t really eat doesn’t mean I can’t taste it (Y/n).” Beetlejuice placed his hand on his hips trying to intimidate you. 
“Yeah, no. why did you want the candy?”
“...I wanted to chuck it at the kids nearby.”
You sighed and shook your head. “You can do that with the last of the candy at the end of the night, not in the beginning.”
“Fiiine.” BJ grumbled and floated back into the house passing Lydia as she was walking out.
“Is he still bummed about not being able to do anything till it’s actually nightfall?” She looked over at you while you fix one of the scarecrows. 
“Yeah, but you told him about the plan right?”
“Of course, He’s just excited and bummed cause he wants to start now.” Lydia giggled and sat on one of the chairs.
“Should’ve seen him right now. He wanted some of the candy just so he can throw it at some of the kids nearby.”
 Lydia rolled her eyes and shook her head before smiling at all the decorations. “It looks great out here.”
You smiled as you got the scarecrow to stand upright on its own. “How are Adam and Barbara?” You smiled over at Lydia and took a seat next to her.
“They’re doing great, they’re decorating the attic and keeping an eye out for kids so we can be ready.”
“So what did you tell Beej to do when the group comes?”
“I told him to go wild if there are no kids around.” You smiled getting excited to see what will happen later.
Hearing the attic window open you and Lydia looked up to see Adam smiling and waving. You both waved back and he shouted down, “There's kids coming! They’re rounding the corner now!”
“Thanks, Adam!!” Lydia yelled back and grabbed her candy bowl getting ready.
----------
The night went one without a hitch, passing out candy and taking a few pictures with the kids that also had skull costumes.
Most of the candy was gone and it was getting pretty dark. You walked into the house and got your sweaters giving Lydia hers as you sat back down outside with her.
Barbara poked her head out the window smiling at you two. “There’s a group of teens coming our way! Are they your friends?”
“Yeah! They said they were stopping by for a bit!” You smiled up at her as Lydia opened the front door. “Hey Beej! Get ready!!”
In an instant, Beetlejuice was at the door grinning from ear to ear. “This is gonna be so fun!” He giggles and hides in the shadows when he sees the group of teens approaching the house.
“Hey, Lydia, (Y/n). Hows the night going so far?” Hannah, one of the main girls smiled over at the two of you.
“Good! The night has been pretty good. We’ve had a bunch of kids come by so far.” You smiled back at her and waved to the rest of the group. 
One of the other girls smiled back and asked. “So everyone here knows your house is allegedly haunted.”
“It is.”
“It just kinda looks creepy. If there are ghosts here can we see them?:”
“I’ll do ya one better girly. How about a demon?” BJ was suddenly by the girl's side causing her to scream.
One of the other girls raised an eyebrow. “You’re probably just some creep in a costume.”
“Costume? I’ll have you know these are my actual clothes.”
“We should get going…we’re going to be late for the party”
Beetlejuice smiled at the girl who was genuinely scared. “So soon? I thought you girls would wanna come hang out with us. I hoped you wouldn’t mind that I brought a couple of friends with me.”
“F-friends?”
“Fellas...It’s Showtime!” with the snap of his fingers, Beetlejuice took out all the lights as purple and green replaced the bright yellow ones. The girls felt strange like they were being surrounded, Shadows popped up around them only to be revealed as clones of the first man.
“Wh-whats happening?!” Shrieks and screams could be heard but Beetlejuice wasn’t done yet.
“Don’t go away just yet girls! You haven’t even said hello to our dear friend Sandy!” With a motion of his hand, the girls looked into the doorway and they were shocked to see a giant black and white snake slither its way to them.
Frozen and shaking each girl held on to one another for dear life. One gasped as the snake lifted her head above them. There was a pause, pure silence. None of the girls dared to move. Beetlejuice gave Sandy a wink and that signaled for the Snake to open it’s mouth revealing rows of teeth and little Sandy inside hissing at the group causing them to scream at the top of their lungs and bolt out of there as fast as they could.
Beetlejuice and his clones laugh in unison until in a flash they’re gone leaving you and Lydia bursting with laughter in your seats petting Sandy. Beetlejuice goes over and takes a few candies from one of the bowls making his way inside. “Thanks, Lyds, that was amazing!” 
Sandy slithered back into the house. You and Lydia stayed outside a bit more just admiring the night sky and enjoying the cold air.
“We still have some candy in this bowl.” Lydia smiles and sakes the bowl a bit. “Let’s go get rid of the paint and we can go watch some scary movies in my room for the rest of the night.”
“Please! I’ve been wanting to kiss you all day!”
Lydia giggles as she stands up and takes your hand in hers leading back into the house being careful not to knock over the jack-o-lanterns you two made the day before.
---------
Sighing as you and Lydia settle into her room after cleaning your faces you make yourself comfortable in her bed. Lydia lights a few of her candles, one being a scented candle to fill the room with a pumpkin scent.
Lydia blows out her match and leaves on her desk for it to cool off before she throws it away. “So what should we watch?”
“I was thinking of either Halloween or Trick ‘r Treat, to start us off.”
She smiles as she reached for both movies from her bookshelf. “Looks like we’re watching Halloween first.” putting on the movie Lydia grabbed the bowl of candy and made her way to her bed. “Scoot over babe.”
Scooting a bit closer to the wall you wrapped your arms around Lydia once she got comfortable and turned her face towards you, kissing her and giggling a bit at the fact that she tasted like chocolate.
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tarisilmarwen · 5 years ago
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Hallow’s Eve
(Eeeeeey, it’s ya girl with a BBRae Halloween date as an official apology for all my Whumptober fics this month.  Figured we’d go out with some fluff, a little bit of mild creepy, and Beast Boy being the most precious and considerate of beans.
Enjoy!)
---
"I can't believe you talked me into this," Raven said with a light groan, nursing her temples as they stood in front of the entrance.
"Aww c'mon, Rae!  It'll be fun, I promise!" Beast Boy told her, bouncing on the balls of his feet as they waited in line.  "These guys are professional actors and stage directors!  They go all out!"  He grinned.  "It's honestly almost kind of like being in a horror movie."
Raven raised her face with a withering look.  "Beast Boy, do you remember the last time horror movies and I intersected?"
The changeling gave a full-body shudder.  "Couldn't forget.  But hey," he said, turning his grin on her, "just admit when you're scared this time and nothing will happen, right?"
Raven's hands lifted out in a helpless 'I guess' gesture.  She eyed the entrance to the haunted house, some trepidation beating inside her chest.
It didn't look all that scary from the outside; a rickety wooden facade like the entrance to a dilapidated Victorian mansion propped up around an open industrial door that led into a dark interior.  But her empathic senses crawled with discomfort from the aura of fear that surrounded the place, rising up and flaring with the screams that punctuated the night air.
Sensing her hesitation, Beast Boy stepped closer, sliding a gloved hand into hers.  She looked up into concerned green eyes.
"Hey," he said, all-serious.  "If you want to leave, just give a tug on my arm or something, and we can teleport out.  Okay?"
That did put her a little more at ease.  She exhaled slowly, feeling some of the tension winding out.
It was just a little haunted house.  None of the monsters were real.  No one was actually going to hurt her.  And Beast Boy would be right beside her the whole time.
"Okay..." she agreed softly.
He squeezed her hand, then skipped forward as the line moved.
Raven trailed behind him, tucking her arms under cloak to keep them out of the frigid air.
The haze of fear crowded her head as they got closer, but Raven muttered her mantra under her breath to keep it at bay, keep it from seeping in and infecting her own mind.  She focused on the tingling excitement inside Beast Boy.  He was clearly very eager for this.
She let her mouth quirk into a smile.  His anticipation was a warm patch of light in her senses.  Calming.  Radiant.
Maybe she'd be okay after all.
"Enjoy the show!" the chipper attendant at the entrance said as he took their tickets.
"We'll try," Raven snarked, eliciting a chuckle from Beast Boy.
***
She'd admit it; the work and effort put into this place was impressive.
The 'story', so far as she had gathered, was that they and the six-person group of attendees were paranormal investigators poking around a woman's reportedly haunted family house.  There was an actor playing the 'lead' investigator that accompanied their group from room to room, and a middle-aged woman playing the hapless owner of the house that dropped in on them often, sometimes with an occasional jump scare.
For the first fifteen or so minutes, they wandered from room to room of the house, their lead investigator stopping them to check on cameras and thermal equipment, try a call and response, or just chat with the owner about some of the weird things she'd seen going on in the house.  They lingered in each room until something appropriately creepy happened—usually a loud noise or a tipped or dropped object—and then the investigator or the owner would bustle them to the next room with the pretense of urgently needing to check something out.
It let the suspense and atmosphere sink in, and gave them plenty of time to admire and appreciate the sets.
Raven didn't think it was quite at movie-level quality but definitely in the realms of high-budget stage play.  The warehouse interior had been expertly transformed into an antique Victorian mansion, dust and grime and wear winding through every wall and surface but glimmers of a former majestic glory peeking through.
Beast Boy caught her studying a painted portrait on the wall—ostensibly of the owner's great-grandmother, a youthful-looking woman who looked almost exactly like her granddaughter—and leaned in with a grin and a conspiratorial whisper.
"So?  Whadda think so far?" he asked.
"You weren't kidding when you said they go all out," Raven admitted.  "I'd love to take a backstage tour just to see more of this set construction and propwork."
The changeling nodded.  "Thought you'd like that."
"I'll be honest, though, I kind of thought it would be a little scarier," Raven told him, crossing her arms.  She glanced at him.  "No offense," she added, since every scare thus far had caused Beast Boy to shriek like a little girl and cling to her cloak.
He shrugged.  "Eh, I startle easily.  Don't worry," he said.  "Around the twenty minute mark is usually when things get really crazy," he warned her.
Her heart gave an audible thump, but whether it was fear or excitement she couldn't tell.
She gripped Beast Boy's hand as their group followed the lead investigator to the next room.
True to the changeling's words, the scares started coming hard and fast, strobe lights flashing up on walls, projectors casting eerie images in the air of monstrous faces, actresses in lacy white dresses appearing suddenly in the corner and wailing.
Raven wrung Beast Boy's hand, and he flipped her cloak over his head more than once to cower underneath.  Her pulse jolted and raced, calming and ratcheting up again with a frequency she wasn't entirely sure was healthy.
Azarath Metrion Zinthos... Azarath Metrion Zinthos... she repeated to herself inside her head.
A pair of loud shrieks cracked her hearing and Raven flinched.  The two teen girls in front of them stabbed their arms and danced in place, dodging a pale hand that had reached out from under a table to grab at them.
Their momentary terror flared up in Raven's empathic senses, almost overpowering, but she shook her head, finding her center of calm again and letting the emotion pass harmlessly through her.
From under a corner of her cape, Beast Boy poked his head out, watching her in concern.
"You okay, Rae?" he whispered.
Raven's face relaxed.  "I'm fine," she assured him.  "A bit freaked out.  It's a little hard to concentrate."
He straightened, coming out from hiding.  "Do we need to tap out?"
She held up a hand, forcing herself to take long deep breaths and count inside her head for a moment.
"I can get through this," she insisted.  "Just.. give me a moment."
She pictured the starlit void that was her favorite mental meditation image, letting the other sounds fade away and her thoughts become tranquil.
The lead investigator paused for a moment, shining his flashlight back at them.  Out of character, he asked, "Hey Titans, you good?"
Beast Boy looked back at Raven.  She had her eyes closed, but a moment later she opened them again, looking much more confident.  She nodded.
The changeling flashed a thumbs up.
They followed the group into the next room.  There, their lead investigator conferred urgently with a junior assistant, who'd been taking audio samples of the kitchen.  They didn't get much time with him, however, as just as his dialogue seemed about to reveal something important the strobes flashed and the lights flickered and something or other came out of the darkness and... ate him or dragged him away or something.
Raven paid a quick glance down at her palm, sending dark matter over her fingers to check that her powers were still normal and the actor's disappearance hadn't been her fault.  Satisfied, she almost missed it when Beast Boy started tugging on her arm.  The owner's scream had come from somewhere upstairs and the lead investigator was leading the way, charging up the stairs towards the sound.
Their group thundered heavily after him, stopping short when they reached the upper landing and slowly crept through the first door.
Raven startled at the sight that met them inside, a blurted profanity escaping her.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, to Beast Boy's shock.
"Raven!" he gasped, appalled.
The owner was standing off to the side with a creepy smile, with candles burning on the points of a pentagram circle on the floor behind her.
In a calm voice, she explained how calling them there to investigate the haunting had just been a ruse, that she was in fact the ancient grandmatron pictured on the wall downstairs, and that long ago she had made a deal with dark forces to extend her youth and lifespan.  The deal required ritualistic sacrifices, naturally, and so their group was in fact just the latest round of victims.
Raven's heart raced through the whole exposition dump, feeling things hit a little too close for comfort.
Women in white appeared all around them, boxing them in and coming closer, and the lead investigator pushed at their backs, shouting, "Go!  Go!" and urging them to run the last few rooms towards the exit.
They lost him somewhere behind them, his figure disappearing between two actresses in decaying makeup that grabbed his arms and pulled him away.  Raven's feet pounded in time with her heart as the whole house seemed to rebel against them now, walls shifting, doors slamming in their faces, a vertigo tunnel taking over one of the hallways and making her head spin dizzily.
The teen girls ahead of them were inconsolable now, sprinting as fast as they could with Raven and Beast Boy and the rest of the group behind them.  Raven felt the fear pressing in, pushing at the boundaries in her head.  Her mind ached.  But Beast Boy's hand in hers was gripped tight and warm, and he wasn't afraid, laughing a bit as they ran from the specters and apparitions.
Raven let the adrenaline carry her, let the thrill of the chase flood her senses.  It looked like they were coming up on the back door.  The grandmatron appeared suddenly beside them, reaching out a hand and stretching it towards them.
They put on a final burst of speed as she chased after them, reaching, reaching...
The group spilled out into the open air, a blast of cold night wind hitting their faces.
Shrieking turned into relieved panting and laughing, exclamations of delight rather than horror.  The sudden turnaround of emotions made her stagger, shaking her head and washing in the exhilaration that pulsed around their group.
"That..." gasped Beast Boy between deep breaths, doubled over with his hands on his knees, "...was... awesome!"
Raven laughed shortly, putting a hand over her chest and willing her heart to calm.  "Azar..." she panted.  "That was a plot twist!"
Beast Boy tilted upright.  "Yeah, they've got some pretty good writers on their team.  I really liked the sci-fi alien invasion they did last year."
Raven couldn't reply, feeling the ringing inside her head diminish and the empathic noise levels return to something manageable.  She'd probably have a monster headache in the morning, but it almost felt worth it.
Beast boy nudged her side with his elbow.  "Sooooo..." he drawled.  "Watcha think?"
She puffed out a breath.  "I think..." she said.  "We might still need to keep this kind of thing to a minimum.  But," she added quickly, seeing and feeling the flash of disappointment in the shape-shifter's green eyes, "I had fun."  She turned her face aside, pink heat creeping across her cheeks.  "I'm glad I could share this with you."
He beamed.  "Being scared's not any fun if you don't have someone else to be scared with!  Thanks for doing this with me, Rae.  I know it wasn't easy."
She waved him off.  "I'll be fine if I meditate for a couple hours and get to bed at a reasonable time," she insisted.  "But if I have nightmares tonight I'm blaming you," she warned.
"Fair enough."  He grabbed her hand with a brilliant smile.  "C'mon, let's go do some non-scary activities to clear your head a bit."
"You're sweet," she told him.
"Just looking out for my girl!" he bragged, leading the way confidently towards the hay rides and carnival games bathed in soft jack-o'-lantern light.
The glow seemed to warm her heart as she walked by his side, letting the frigid night air melt her away into a gentle, peaceful calm.
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swiftiesimonriley · 5 years ago
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dark passenger
pairing: stenbrough warning: murder, breif mentions of past abuse and drug use summary: stanley uris has it all. a gorgeous boyfriend, a beautiful view of the atlantic, and his dream job of blood splatter analysist. he’s made a name for himself by helping to put away some of miami’s most deadly serial killers, but what his colleagues might never crack is that he is the most dangerous one of them all. a/n: the dexter! au is here!! let me know if you wanna be tagged!
"Please, please you don't have to do this!" A woman yells out, her cries falling on deaf ears throughout her large home.
Her husband left the night before for a business trip, leaving her alone for the weekend. The last thing she remembers was coming home from work and placing her purse down before the world went black.
She tries to pull against her restraints, to her what looked like plastic wrap, which tie around her chest, legs and lower stomach, binding her to her dining room table. A strap of plastic wrap keeps her head still on the table, only being able to use her eyes to look around her grand dining room.
Whoever was doing this to her covered her whole dining room in the plastic, leaving no inch uncovered.
The sound of heavy footsteps startles the woman, her heart rate accelerating as the figure gets closer.
"Please, I'll do anything! You don't have to do this to me!" She screams, hoping he has some sense of mercy.
"You see, I kind of have to do this," her attacker says firmly, moving to stand at the head of the table so he can look at her face to face.
The first thing she notices are his deep green eyes, which have no sense of life behind them. She shudders as he brings a small blade down and cuts her cheek, using a pipet he had in his other hand to extract some blood and place it on a glass slide.
"Why are you doing this?" She gasps, looking up at him helplessly as he stares back down at her, face devoid of any emotion.
He reaches down to the side table and grabs a handful of photos, flashing them to to the woman, who immediately shuts her eyes.
"Oh so now you're ashamed?" He asks, a few of his golden curls falling down in front of his eyes as he leans over her. "So you weren't ashamed when you killed these men?"
The woman tries shaking her head, only to be stopped by the plastic wrap. "I didn't do anything!" She yelps, tugging at the plastic binding her arms. Her attacker rolls his eyes, showing her the photos taken from the crime scene.
"Roy Beckett, Zach Mauzy, Carson Mckay, Sam Wyatt, you killed these men," he deadpans, flipping through each photo, causing the woman to wince, refusing to make eye contact with the man.
"You did this to them, you lured them in and killed them. You didn't care that they had families or that they had loved ones, you just took their lives away as if they were nothing."
A tear falls down the woman's cheek, mixing with the blood from her attacker's cut, causing a red trail to flow down onto the table. "Crying won't save you now, God knows it didn't save your victims."
The blonde reaches for the small table, ghosting his hand over his collection of weapons before settling for the large butcher's knife. The woman below lets out a deafening scream, only silenced by the wad of gauze being shoved inside her mouth.
"You won't get sympathy for me," he says plainly, playing with the blade in his hands. "I'm just like you, but I have standards."
Before the woman can process his words, the blonde violently jams the knife into her chest, a small, final gasp for air being forced out of her lungs as a pool of blood collects underneath the plastic wrap.
-
"Stanny!"
A young, brown-haired boy comes running full speed towards the blonde, his arms open wide, a toy truck still held in one hand.
Stanley gasps as he picks up the boy, swinging him around in a circle before settling him on his hip, holding him tight in his arms. "What did you bring me?"
Stan chuckles to himself. Alexander always wanted to know if there were presents.
"I brought you and your sister ice cream buddy!" He smiles, watching how the young boy's face lights up at the mention of his favorite treat. "Lia get in here, Stanny has ice cream!"
As if on cue, Alex's older sister Ophelia runs out of her room and straight into Stan, wrapping her small arms around his waist. She had come a long way since the first time they met, having shied away from her dad's new boyfriend, bad memories of the last one still etched into her memory.
"Alright kids, let's get you settled," Stan smiles, leading the two Denbrough children into the kitchen, settling them into seats at the kitchen counter before dishing up their ice cream. Chocolate with rainbow sprinkles for Ophelia and mint chocolate chip with chocolate sauce for Xander.
The blonde watches the kids for a few minutes, before excusing himself. He walks up the stairs, passing numerous family photos and pieces of art, before coming face to face with the master bedroom door, which was closed.
He knocks gently before peering inside, seeing his boyfriend of 6 months, Bill Denbrough, typing away at his computer.
He smiles to himself, noticing the way Bill pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as he edits his latest chapter, his reading glasses perched upon his nose.
The brunette continues typing as Stan sits down next to him, finishing his edits on the second to last paragraph on the page before briskly closing his laptop and shoving it out of the way.
It takes less than 3 seconds for Bill to crawl into Stan's lap, their lips crashing together gently, with Stan's large hands moving to grip his lover's hips.
The pair remain entangled for a few moments before pulling away, with Bill leaning to rest his head on one of Stan's broad shoulders.
"How way your day?"
He could tell him the truth.
How the day started with an officer giving him shit for not getting a blood analysis into him exactly when he wanted it. The feelings inside of him of how quickly he could slice the officer up and clean it up as if it never happened.
He could explain how annoyed he was when his adopted brother, and officer, Eddie wouldn't stop complaining about his hatred of working VICE, how he deserved to be on homicide, how unfair it was that he was stuck in VICE just because the lieutenant "has it out for him."
Or how difficult it was to wait for the perfect time to kill his latest victim. How weeks of waiting and observing had driven him crazy. How hard it was to clean up her place and dispose of her body into the Atlantic, having to sneak out onto his small boat around 3 am with 3 black garbage bags, making sure to dump them far enough out and away from people.
But he couldn't do that.
"It was okay, just a lot going on at work," he breathes out, bringing a hand to run his fingers through Bill's brown locks.
It wasn't necessarily a lie. The precinct had seen a jump in gang-related activity within Miami in the past few months, with officers feeling pressure from the Captain to find the connections between different cases.
This pressure had also been felt by Stan, as one of the best blood analysts within the state, he was called to almost every crime scene to help officers understand the type of people they were up against. It all seemed so simple to him, but having to explain how these criminals used certain techniques to the average detective just gave him headaches.
"Well I know something that could help you," Bill starts, lifting his head off Stan's shoulder so he can lock eyes with him. "The sitter should be here in a few minutes, that will give us some time for ourselves," he says, pressing a few kisses to Stan's neck, causing the blonde to tense up a bit at the sudden affection and attention he was receiving.
It's not that he didn't enjoy this, hell he really enjoys it, but something about possibly having sex with your boyfriend after you have just murdered someone is not really what Stan was looking forward to.
Bill feels the hesitance in Stan, using his fingers to tilt Stan's head so he can look into his eyes, having not have noticed how the blonde ceased eye contact moments prior.
"Sorry if that was too much," Bill stammers, "We don't have to if you don't want to."
Stan nods softly, flashing his boyfriend a small smile, bringing hands up to cup his face. "Thank you baby, I just feel a bit tired, is it okay if we just lay here and maybe watch a movie?"
Bill smiles back, a look of utter happiness in his eyes.
"I'd love that."
Eddie was the one that introduced Stan to Bill.
Just about a year ago, Eddie was the responding officer on a domestic assault call. He remembers rushing to the scene, a small white house in a residential neighborhood just within city limits.
He remembers making his way inside, seeing a coffee table flipped over, its prior contents spilled across the carpet. Chairs were knocked over, items askew and out of place.
He followed the trail of blood upstairs, coming face to face with the man who did this.
Other officers rushed passed him to cuff the man as he shouted extremities, forcing multiple officers to have to drag him out of the house and down to the station.
Eddie remembers opening the master bedroom door, seeing a young man, his face bruised and bleeding, his lip split and eye starting to swell, holding a young boy to his chest. A young girl next to them clenches the phone in her hands. She's the one who called him here.
"Are you here to help my daddy?" The young boy asks, peeking his head out from his father's chest with watery eyes.
Eddie remembers nodding his head, promising no one would ever hurt them again.
Eddie learned the man's name was Bill, and that the man forcibly dragged out of his home was his husband, Jacob Mills.
The pair had been together for a few years, being there for Bill after his long-time girlfriend, and mother of his children walked out on him.
Jacob was there for Bill every step of the way, helping him to raise his two beautiful children, who reminded him of their mother every day. He loved and supported Bill, but over time they began to fight.
At first, it was over small things, like forgetting to sign Ophelia's permission slip, or not being able to make it to a date night. But over time things got worse.
Things started to become physical after Jacob started using.
It started with smoking. Bill didn't mind at first, hell he smoked in high school and college, but he always made sure Jacob didn't bring it around the kids. But then weed and cigarettes escalated to drinking.
There were nights where Bill wouldn't know where Jacob was, or when or if he would be returning home.
When he did return, it was bad.
The first time, Bill waited up that night for him. Around 3 am he stumbled in, slamming the door closed, only to be startled by Bill turning on the kitchen light.
Bill told him that this was unacceptable, how he and the kids were worried sick, but Jacob was too far gone. He just brushed past Bill, muttering something about going to bed, but Bill kept going, telling him that he was scared for him, how he never answered his messages, how he-
SMACK
Next thing he knows, he is on the ground, clutching his now red cheek, with Jacob walking right upstairs and plopping right into bed.
It didn't happen again for a few months.
Jacob always insisted afterward that he was sorry, and that he would never do it again.
But it just kept happening.
The night Eddie was dispatched to the scene was the night Bill decided enough was enough. Jacob was out at the bar with some friends, so he knew he had time. He planned on packing his and the kid's things and getting out of town, probably with his parents, while he filed for a divorce.
He was just finished packing Ophelia's toys when Jacob got home.
The next thing he knew he was on the bedroom floor, with Eddie leaning over him, promising that he would keep them safe.
Eddie kept good on his promise, helping Bill find the right resources and people who could help him, recommending a therapist that Bill could work with to figure out how to plan out his next moves.
Bill was eternally grateful to Eddie for saving them, insisting that if he didn't receive that dispatch, he wasn't sure where he would be right now. The kids got attached to Eddie quite quickly, finding his demeanor quite calming and his jokes hilarious.
Bill and Eddie from then on had standing "lunch dates" where Eddie would check in on him and the kids, making sure that they were okay and if they needed any help.
It was on one of these "dates" that Eddie introduced Bill to Stan.
Eddie's car was in the shop for repairs, repairs that he insisted he do himself much to Stan's dismay, which ended up making the problem worse. This led to Stan becoming his brother's taxi, driving them both to and from work, and any other place they had to go.
Eddie had mentioned that he was going to check up on one of his old victims and that he needed a ride.
Stan agreed, driving the two of them to the small white house. Eddie had insisted that it would only take a few minutes, but after 30 minutes, Stan was getting a little frustrated. He gave it another ten minutes before he got out of his car angrily, slamming the driver's side door shut loudly.
I should be out getting my next victim, not here just sitting out in the middle of some neighborhood. I could be halfway done by now, what the hell am I doing just waiting for-
Just then, the front door had opened and Stan's eyes widened. Before him stood the most gorgeous man he had ever laid eyes on, his smile bringing an unfamiliar sense of warmth and comfort over the blonde.
God, he could look at his smile all day.
Eddie chuckled from his spot on the couch with Ophelia and Alexander, the younger of the two playing with an airplane toy, dragging it along Eddie's arm, claiming that it was the best runway for the plane.
Conversation between the pair came naturally, even out of earshot Eddie could tell something was up there. He swears he had never seen his brother talk to someone that easily and eagerly before.
It was about a week later when Eddie set them up. He told both of them separately that he wanted to go to dinner, arranging a sitter for Bill, and promising Stan that he would do some of his paperwork for him.
But when both men arrived at the restaurant to see no Eddie, they weren't disappointed.
-
The sound of Stan's phone woke him up a few hours later.
The tv was still playing softly, a re-run of a Law and Order episode he and Bill had seen at least 10 times playing as he picks up his phone.
"Stan its Eddie, you have to get down to the 7 Seas Motel right now, you need to see this."
Stan lets out a sigh and assures Eddie he will be there soon before hanging up. He places his phone back down on the bedside table and looks down at Bill, who is currently nestled into his side. He hates to leave, but work calls.
He carefully maneuvers his body as to not disturb the sleeping brunette, pressing a gentle kiss against his forehead before making his way downstairs and out the front door.
It's about a 15-minute drive to the motel.
Stan fidgets with his fingers as he waits at a stoplight, his mind wandering to the previous night.
He watches silently as the blood begins to accumulate underneath the plastic, sighing in relief. The first blow was always the hardest.
He makes quick work with his buzzsaw, making sure to make as little of a mess as possible. Even though he covered the room in the plastic, he still wanted things to be somewhat neat, even down to the cuts he makes.
When he's done, he feels a sense of relief wash over his body, his work finally being done.
Once on the scene, Stan pulls a pair of rubber gloves on from his bag, showing an officer his official badge so he can gain access to the scene.
Several motel guests and onlookers wait behind the yellow tape, craning their necks to try and look at the crime scene.
Voyeurs. Stan thinks to himself, walking a few feet before seeing Eddie leaning up against the doorway of one of the motel rooms. He's dressed in a pair of short, red athletic shorts, just like the ones he would wear when they were kids. 
He wears no top, which could be blamed on the Florida heat, or the fact that he's trying to fit in with the hookers he is working alongside with as an undercover. 
"It's one of the girls who works here," Eddie rushes out, pulling Stan into the small room. "I was asking around about her when some other girls noticed she was missing, but then she turned back up."
Stan notices the pain in his brother's voice. Working VICE is hard, you form connections with those around you, even if you aren't telling them who you really are.
"What sick son of a bitch gets off on cutting up people into pieces like this?"
If only he knew.
Stan shakes his head, promising to talk to Eddie later and telling him to stay safe before walking over to the taped off area around the pool.
A few officers are already in the drained pool, a few taking photographs of what sits at the end of the deep end. He makes his way down the stairs and over towards the end, seeing Richie and Ben already on scene.
"How's your brother doing Stan? Fitting in well with the other whores?" Richie teases, a small smirk pulling at his lips.
It's no secret that Richie has some sort of infatuation with Eddie. Whenever the smaller detective is brought up, Richie cannot help himself from cracking jokes or making remarks about getting with him. It mostly just annoys Stan, but Eddie knows how to stand his ground, but Stan swears sometimes Eddie blushes when Richie talks about him.
In this instance Stan ignores him, moving past the two detectives, feeling his blood run cold when he sees what the detectives have been looking at.
Lying before him is the body of the woman Eddie had mentioned, sectioned into several pieces across the tiled pool floor. But what shocks Stan is the lack of blood. No blood to be exact.
"We think the guy drained her blood before dumping her here," Ben says, "But what he did or is doing with the blood is what's throwing us for a loop."
Stan bends down to get a better look at the body. "These cuts are very precise," he states, "whoever did this has some sort of medical training or expertise to understand how to get clean cuts like this, with no hesitation marks."
Ben nods, taking a few notes on what Stan said before patting him on the back. "You can go since there's no blood we don't need you here."
Stan nods, standing back up and turning toward the black-haired forensic science investigator. "Let me know if you find anything Rich."
Richie nods, making a mental note to check by Eddie's room as Stan walks away.
Stan decides to head back to the station, where he can get a jump on finding his next target. He heads back under the crime tape and over towards his car when his phone starts ringing.
He pauses for a moment to look at the caller ID before picking up.
"Miss me already Denbrough?" He asks with a smile, getting into his car and placing his keys in and starting the engine.
"Stan you need to come here right now, the prison called, they let Jacob out due to overcrowding and he's here right now."
Stan doesn't miss the sense of panic in Bill's voice, and he speeds off before he can get a word out.
Looks like his next target already found him.
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cogentranting · 5 years ago
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Favorite Lyrics From Every Taylor Swift Song
I went through and picked one lyric from each song (except for a few songs where I cheated and picked two) that stood out as my favorite. It doesn’t necessarily reflect all my favorite lyrics because some songs are chock full of great lines and it was hard to narrow down, while other songs it was hard to single out anything (either because the songs aren’t really aiming for lyrical excellence or because the strength of the song is in overall narrative or concept more than any standout lines).  They’re in album order and my overall favorite lyrics are marked with a star*. 
Self Titled
Tim McGraw- When you think Tim McGraw I hope you think my favorite song The one we danced to all night long
Picture to Burn- So watch me strike a match on all my wasted time As far as I'm concerned, you're just another picture to burn
Teardrops on My Guitar- He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do...
A Place in this World- I'll be strong, I'll be wrong, oh but life goes on
Cold as You*- You put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray And I stood there loving you and wished them all away
The Outside- I tried to take the road less traveled by But nothing seems to work the first few times
Tied Together with a Smile- And you're tied together with a smile But you're coming undone
Stay Beautiful- I'm taking pictures in my mind so I can save them for a rainy day
Should’ve Said No- And I should've been there, in the back of your mind I shouldn't be asking myself, "Why?
Mary’s Song- Take me back when our world was one block wide I dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried
Our Song- Our song is the way you laugh
I’m Only Me when I’m with You- I'm only up when you're not down Don't wanna fly if you're still on the ground
Invisible- Like shadows in a faded light Oh, we're invisible
A Perfectly Good Heart- Maybe I should've seen the signs, should've read the writing on the wall And realized by the distance in your eyes that I would be the one to fall
Fearless
Jump Then Fall- And every time you shine, I'll shine for you
Untouchable- Untouchable like a distant diamond sky
Forever and Always- So here's to everything coming down to nothing Here's to silence that cuts me to the core
Come in with the Rain- And I, I’ve got you down, I know you by heart And you don’t even know where I start
SuperStar- When my world wakes up today You'll be in another town
The Other Side of the Door- And don't you leave 'cause I know All I need is on the other side of the door
Fearless- And I don't know why but with you I'd dance In a storm in my best dress, fearless
Fifteen- This is life before you know who you're gonna be
Love Story- I close my eyes, and the flashback starts I'm standing there On a balcony in summer air See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns
Hey Stephen- Of all the girls tossing rocks at your window I'll be the one waiting there even when it's cold
White Horse- Now it's too late for you and your white horse To catch me now
You Belong with Me- And you've got a smile that could light up this whole town I haven't seen it in a while since she brought you down
Breathe- Every little bump in the road I tried to swerve But people are people and sometimes it doesn't work out Nothing we say is gonna save us from the fall out
Tell Me Why- Here's to you and your temper Yes, I remember what you said last night And I know that you see what you're doing to me
You’re Not Sorry- You're looking so innocent, I might believe you if I didn't know Could've loved you all my life if you hadn't left me waiting in the cold
The Way I loved You- Breaking down and coming undone It's a roller coaster kind of rush And I never knew I could feel that much
The Best Day- And now I know why all the trees change in the fall I know you were on my side even when I was wrong
Change- And the battle was long, it's the fight of our lives But we'll stand up champions tonight
Speak Now
Mine- You made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter
Speak Now- The way you move is like a full on rainstorm And I'm a house of cards
Back to December- It turns out freedom ain't nothing but missing you Wishing I'd realized what I had when you were mine
Speak Now- There's the silence, there's my last chance I stand up with shaking hands, all eyes on me Horrified looks from everyone in the room But I'm only looking at you
Dear John*- All the girls that you've run dry have tired lifeless eyes 'Cause you burned them out But I took your matches Before fire could catch me So don't look now I'm shining like fireworks Over your sad empty town
Mean- You, with your switching sides And your wildfire lies and your humiliation You have pointed out my flaws again As if I don't already see them
The Story of Us*- But you held your pride like you should've held me
Never Grow Up- Take pictures in your mind of your childhood room Memorize what it sounded like when your dad gets home Remember the footsteps, remember the words said And all your little brother's favorite songs
Enchanted*- Forcing laughter, faking smiles Same old tired, lonely place Walls of insincerity, shifting eyes and vacancy
Better Than Revenge- She came along, got him alone, and let's hear the applause She took him faster than you can say sabotage
Innocent- Wasn't it easier in your firefly-catching days? When everything out of reach, someone bigger brought down to you
Haunted- You and I walk a fragile line I have known it all this time Never ever thought I'd see it break
Last Kiss*- So I'll watch your life in pictures like I used to watch you sleep And I feel you forget me like I used to feel you breathe
Long Live*- I was screaming, long live all the magic we made And bring on all the pretenders I'm not afraid Long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you I was screaming, long live that look on your face
Ours- Ghosts from your past gonna jump out at me Lurking in the shadows with their lip gloss smiles
If This was a Movie- Last night, I heard my own heart beating Sounded like footsteps on my stairs Six months gone and I'm still reaching Even though I know you're not there
Superman- He's got his mother's eyes, his father's ambition
Red
State of Grace*- So you were never a saint And I've loved in shades of wrong We learn to live with the pain Mosaic broken hearts
Red- But loving him was red
Treacherous- Forever going with the flow But you're friction
I Knew You Were Trouble- Once upon a time, a few mistakes ago
All Too Well**- And you call me up again just to break me like a promise So casually cruel in the name of being honest
22- We're happy, free, confused, and lonely in the best way It's miserable and magical, oh, yeah
I Almost Do- And I hope you know that Every time I don’t I almost do
We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together- We hadn't seen each other in a month When you said you needed "space" (what?)
Stay Stay Stay- All those times that you didn't leave, it's been occurring to me I'd like to hang out with you, for my whole life
The Last Time- This is the last time I let you in my door This is the last time, I won't hurt you anymore
Holy Ground- We had this big wide city all to ourselves We blocked the noise with the sound of, "I need you"
Sad Beautiful Tragic- Long handwritten note, deep in your pocket Words, how little they mean, when you're a little too late
The Lucky One- And they tell you that you’re lucky, but you’re so confused 'Cause you don’t feel pretty, you just feel used
Everything Has Changed- And your eyes look like coming home All I know is a simple name Everything has changed
Starlight- And we were dancing, dancing Like we're made of starlight
Begin Again- 'Cause you throw your head back laughing like a little kid I think it's strange that you think I'm funny 'cause he never did
The Moment I Knew- And it was like slow motion Standing there in my party dress In red lipstick With no one to impress
Come Back... Be Here- I guess you're in New York today I don't wanna need you this way
Girl At Home- I see you turn off your phone And now you've got me alone, and I say/  ... Want to see you pick up your phone And tell her you're coming home
1989
Welcome To New York- Walking through a crowd, the village is aglow Kaleidoscope of loud heartbeats under coats
Blank Space- But you'll come back each time you leave 'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream
Style- And when we go crashing down, we come back every time ‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style
Out of the Woods*- The rest of the world was black and white But we were in screaming color
All You Had To Do Was Stay- Had me in the palm of your hand Then, why'd you have to go and lock me out when I let you in?
Shake It Off- Just think while you've been getting down and out about the liars And the dirty, dirty cheats of the world You could've been getting down To this sick beat
I Wish You Would- We're a crooked love in a straight line down Makes you want to run and hide But it makes you turn right back around
Bad Blood- If you live like that, you live with ghosts
Wildest Dreams- Say you'll see me again Even if it's just pretend
How You Get the Girl- I want you for worse or for better I would wait forever and ever Broke your heart, I'll put it back together
This Love- In silent screams and wildest dreams I never dreamed of this
I Know Places- See the vultures circling, dark clouds Love's a fragile little flame, it could burn out
Clean- Rain came pouring down When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe
Wonderland- Didn't they tell us don't rush into things? Didn't you flash your green eyes at me? Didn't you calm my fears with a Cheshire cat smile?
You Are In Love- And you understand now Why they lost their minds and fought the wars And why I've spent my whole life trying to put it into words
New Romantics*- 'Cause baby, I could build a castle Out of all the bricks they threw at me And every day is like a battle But every night with us is like a dream
reputation
... Ready for it?- Wondered how many girls he had loved and left haunted But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom Holdin' him for ransom
End Game- And I bury hatchets, but I keep maps of where I put 'em Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me
I Did Something Bad- I never trust a narcissist, but they love me So I play 'em like a violin And I make it look oh-so-easy
Don’t Blame Me- Echoes of your name inside my mind
Delicate- Is it cool that I said all that? Is it chill that you're in my head?
Look What You Made Me Do- I don't like your perfect crime How you laugh when you lie You said the gun was mine 
So It Goes... All eyes on you, my magician All eyes on us You make everyone disappear, and Cut me into pieces 
Gorgeous- You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong 
Getaway Car*- The ties were black, the lies were white In shades of gray in candlelight 
  King of My Heart- Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep 
Dancing With Our Hands Tied- Swaying as the room burned down I'd hold you as the water rushes in If I could dance with you again 
Dress- All of this silence and patience, pining and anticipation My hands are shaking from holding back from you 
This is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things- And so I took an axe to a mended fence 
Call It What You Want*- All my flowers grew back as thorns Windows boarded up after the storm He built a fire just to keep me warm Starry eyes sparkin' up my darkest night 
New Years Day*- Please don't ever become a stranger Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere
Lover
I Forgot that you existed- Lived in the shade you were throwin til all of my sunshine was gone
Cruel Summer- So cut the headlights, summer's a knife I'm always waiting for you just to cut to the bone Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes And if I bleed, you'll be the last to know
Lover- There's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear
The Man-  When everyone believes ya What's that like?
The Archer*- I wake in the night I pace like a ghost The room is on fire Invisible smoke And all of my heroes Die all alone
I Think He Knows- He got my heartbeat Skipping down 16th Avenue Got that, oh, I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude
 Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince*- Now I'm feeling hopeless, ripped up my prom dress Running through rose thorns, I saw the scoreboard And ran for my life
Paper Rings- I want to drive away with you I want your complications too I want your dreary Mondays Wrap your arms around me, baby boy
Cornelia Street*- We were a fresh page on the desk Filling in the blanks as we go I get mystified by how this city screams your name
Death By a Thousand Cuts*- I look through the windows of this love Even though we boarded them up Chandelier's still flickering here Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand Paper cut stings from our paper-thin plans
London Boy-  He likes my American smile, like a child when our eyes meet Darling, I fancy you
Soon You’ll Get Better-  I know delusion when I see it in the mirror
False God- And I can't talk to you when you're like this Staring out the window like I’m not your favorite town
You Need to Calm Down- And snakes and stones never broke my bones
Afterglow- This ultraviolet morning light below Tells me this love is worth the fight
Me!- Living in winter, I am your summer
It’s Nice to Have a Friend- Light pink sky up on the roof Sun sinks down, no curfew
Daylight*- I've been sleepin' so long in a twenty-year dark night And now I see daylight, I only see daylight I once believed love would be (burnin' red) But it's golden Like daylight
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robinskey · 5 years ago
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The Duel (Harry Potter x Reader)
Prompt: Could u do something Harry Potter x reader were the marauders are alive and the reader is Harry’s gf and is as good as Dumbledore in dueling. And she was staying at Harry’s house for spring break and (Harry is still the boi who lived) Voldemort attacks them and says something like “if she wins she safe but for now I am going to take the most important thing in ur life” to Harry and he starts crying but then she out duels him and comforts Harry and Jily notices how much they love each other?
A/N: Thanks for requesting, anon! I appreciate the level of detail and thought you put into this prompt. I tried to follow it as closely as I could. Enjoy!
Warnings: None-story under the cut
Spending spring break with your boyfriend sounded like an absolute dream.
Until it turned into a nightmare.
You and Harry were wandering along a cobblestone path one evening, hand-in-hand. Your stomachs were full of pasta from the Italian restaurant you’d just visited. Harry’s parents had offered to pick you up from the restaurant, since they knew you’d be out past dark. It was a beautiful night, though, and you both decided you’d rather walk. Lily and James agreed; after all, Godric’s Hollow had always been an incredibly safe little town. The only exception to that rule happened nearly a decade and a half ago-the night a much younger version of your boyfriend became The Boy Who Lived.
Recalling what could have happened that night sends a shiver up your spine. Harry misinterprets this as a temperature issue and shrugs off his jacket before you can even say a word, wrapping it around your shoulders. Since you don’t have the heart to tell him the real reason for your shudder, you simply thank him.
And that’s when a sudden, eardrum-splitting screech rings out across the street. It sounds like it’s coming from the cemetery.
Of course it is. Every time something creepy happens, it’s always in the cemetery.
Harry looks over at you, panic swimming in his emerald eyes.
“Stay here. I’ll check it out,” he says, reaching toward his back pocket for his wand.
“I’m not letting you go alone,” you say. 
Harry’s lips part in protest, but then another scream rings out. 
“Fine. But stay behind me.”
Harry wields his wand with one hand and clutches yours with the other. You creep among the tombstones, twigs crunching under your footsteps. As you meander deeper into the graveyard, a thick fog forms around you. It becomes difficult to see beyond a few feet, but you can make out a tall silhouette in the distance. 
“Hello? Is someone there?” Harry calls out. 
The figure grows larger. You can hear its heavy footsteps squishing in the mud, louder with every footfall.
“Harry, something’s not right,” you mumble, tugging on his hand to pull him back. He lets go of you and charges forward.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demands.
There’s a flash of red light. Harry’s wand flies out of his hand, and his limp body is thrown the other way. His torso collides with a tombstone.
“Harry?” you scream. 
“Oh, he’s fine-for now, at least,” a deep voice says from beyond the veil of fog. It’s unfamiliar, and yet you feel a twinge of recognition in your chest. Or maybe it’s just panic.
Eventually, the cloaked figure draws near enough for you to make out a face. It’s a sorry excuse for a face-terribly distorted, as though it had once been shattered and then hastily pushed back together again, but all the puzzle pieces never lined back up. Red, beady eyes glare at you from under a black hood. They’re mesmerizing-so much so that you almost miss it when the figure raises his arm to cast another spell. But you’re an excellent duelist-as good as Dumbledore, some even say-so you notice what he’s doing just in the nick of time. You dive behind a tombstone as the first flash of red shatters a statue directly behind the spot where you’d just been standing.
“You-you’re supposed to be dead,” you mumble, mostly to yourself. You hear the soft squish of the earth growing louder as Voldemort trods over it and yell “impedimenta!”, firing the jinx in his general direction before ducking for cover behind a massive oak tree.
“No,” says Lord Voldemort. He gestures to Harry, slumped over the tombstone, too weak to stand. “He is supposed to be dead. And yet, he’s not. Harry Potter has grown up as the Boy Who Lived, while I’ve spent the last decade and a half trying to piece myself back together.” 
Your gaze travels over to Harry. He is kneeling now, using the headstone as support as he attempts to get to his feet. Voldemort follows your line of sight; he snickers as he watches the boy struggle. Voldemort utters a hex, flicks his wrist, and illuminates the graveyard with blue light. Paralyzed, every joint in Harry’s body locks up. You watch in horror as he stiffly falls backwards to the ground.
“The Boy Who Lived barely put up a fight, and he still managed to take everything from me. Incendio!” 
Hot flames lick at your ankles as you somersault away from your previous hiding place. After an “aguamenti” that does nothing but exacerbate the fire, you launch a “stupefy” in Voldemort’s general direction. He dodges it. Voldemort’s booming voice seems to surround you, and the cloak of night has now fully descended upon the graveyard. Confused and disoriented, you begin firing spells in every direction, praying none of them hit Harry. Suddenly, the cloaked figure appears in front of you, his wand pointed directly at your heart.
“Now,” he says, turning his head toward what must have been Harry, “I am going to take the most important thing in your life.” His focus shifts back to you. “Avada-”
“Expelliarmus!”
Green and red collide in an explosion of light. Your ears ring; your heart beats against your ribs. And then, as suddenly as it happens, it’s over. The world is still again, and Voldemort is gone.
You sprint over to Harry so quickly that you almost trip over your feet. In a matter of seconds, he’s unparalyzed and wrapped around you like a sloth. His face nuzzles into your neck, and you feel as water drips on your t-shirt. You run your fingers through his thick curls soothingly.
“It’s okay, my love. I’m here,” you hum. “He’s gone now. Everything is going to be all right.”
“I thought I’d lost you,” he mumbles into your shirt.
“Never,” you say. He’s still clinging to you as though you’ll disintegrate if he lets go, but you gently unravel yourself from his embrace. “We can’t stay here, though. It’s not safe.”
You apparate into Harry’s living room, where his parents are curled up on the sofa together, watching a movie. As soon as the two of you appear, covered in dirt and bruises, Lily and James leap to their feet. They know something’s wrong and start worrying profusely, even though you try telling them that the danger has passed. However, concerned parents are an unstoppable force, and there’s no sense in trying to reason with the Potters. They instruct the two of you to stay put while they enchant the house with charms and protection.
When the elder Potters finally return, they find you and Harry tangled in each other’s arms on the sofa. Your heads tilt together, foreheads touching, as you speak in whispers. Lily and James know they probably shouldn’t eavesdrop, but they can’t help it.
“...I was so scared,” Harry is saying. “I’ve never been that afraid in my life.”
“I know, baby. I was, too,” you say. 
“I felt like a coward. Here’s my girl, fighting off this evil entity, and meanwhile, I’m just laying on the grass, watching.”
A whisper of an ironic smile forms on your lips.
“It’s not like you had much of a choice,” you say. “And besides, it’s not like you would have been much help. We both know I’m the better duelist.” 
“Yeah?” he asks through a chuckle.
“Yeah,” you say, raising your head to press a kiss to his cheek.
He pulls back to hold you at arm’s length.
“You’re a pain in my arse sometimes, you know that?” he says, green eyes glimmering with laughter. 
At this comment, Lily glances pointedly at James. She mouths, Just like us at that age.
“I’m your favorite pain in the arse, though.” You giggle as Harry hesitantly nods.
James elbows his wife, who laughs out loud. He shushes her, but it’s too late. You and Harry notice his parents lurking in the doorway of the living room. Harry’s face burns bright red, but you give a friendly wave.
“Ready for a story, Mr. and Mrs. Potter?”
As dark as the story may be, the mood is a lot lighter with you around. After all, Harry knows everything’s going to be all right, as long as he has you.
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