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#meaning she had her soul yanked out
cindernet-explorer · 7 days
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WolKrile Week - Day 4: Reflections
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thedeadthree · 27 days
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🎶✨when u get this, list 5 songs u like to listen to, publish. then, send this ask to 10 of your favorite followers (positivity is cool)🎶✨
AIRIKA HI TY TYY DEAR this is the cutest thank youu and i hope ur well!! i adore yelling about tunes EEEK 🥀💌☺️
𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐔𝐏𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 — hozier, bear mcreary.
𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐘 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐊𝐍𝐈𝐅𝐄 — charli xcx.
𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐒 𝐕𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐒 — cocteau twins.
𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒 — the crane wives.
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊 — ramin djawadi.
#🦇: airika#carrionsflower#leg.asks#YOU SWEETEST SOUL YOUU ty tyy so much for the ask this was the cutest to do!! 🥀🥹#THE FIRSTT is soooo s/olas coded dragon game really YANKED me back in to thinking about it all the time 🥀🤡☺️#teehee 3 is for a new clown for x*men HEHE 🥀☺️#2 and 3 are also h*elaena hawke vibes too 🥀👁️#i mean i have yelled about the fourth for cy but *screams* ITS SOO VELAENE AND VELAENGWAYNE UGHH it makes me crazy kdjxhxh 🥀💀#i need to give her a formal introduction and her and her beloved (🥀🙄🥴) so soon !!!!!!#and lastly!! the fifth is the closest i think so far to what i think a theme song for irulanne would be?#raised a city elf until found by the sisters (a subset of the mourners!!)#she lost her network of fellow orphans and spies around but as she had magic she gained a new whisper network in the undead as her ‘birds’#its how i would say she learned of v*arric and feanorians interest in taking her on as the rook!!#she snuck out to the rendezvous sooo fast kxjxhxh#i mean they were preparing her to be the next arcane advisor/spymaster (she’s a two for one we love a multitalented girliee)#and maybe even to marry and or have a ‘legitimate’ heir with a monarch#or at least very close by to a/the throne yk? mourner mage with close ties to a throne was their goal 🥀💀😵‍💫#they were VERY into the idea of having a mage on a throne one way or another and so her leaving#is going to be SOO interesting for her to go back 🥀💀#i mean if they try to throw it in her face they gave her a life so many dreamed or something ->#they can take it up with her crow husband or something 🥀🥴☺️ good for her i think!!#but after things went sideways with the ritual i think she had begun to reconsider ditching the sisters oxjxjxh#that’s remedied when she meets luca though HEHE 🥀😌#prodigy orphan with gifted kid burnout meets scion of family prodigy with gifted kid burnout THEYRE SOO <3#ANYWAY LZJXJXH i missed yelling in the tags so i took the opportunity if yall read that im baking u cookies rn 🥀🤧🥹!!!!!#also this almost would be just c*harli bc the way her album has been on a loop for me 🥀☺️😌
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leonw4nter · 9 months
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(Second) Prettiest Fairy Princess
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Dad!DI!Leon x F!Reader
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“Say ‘bye’ to momma!” Leon beams as he holds his daughter, Aurora– or Rory, as you two lovingly call her.
“Bye momma!” the little girl in his arms beam. One hand wound around his neck and the other raised up, a tiny hand waving at you.
You say your own share of byes too, pressing a kiss to your 4 year-old’s cheek before giving Leon his own kiss to his lightly chapped yet still pink lips. You get in the Uber Leon picked up for you, shutting the door and heading to the mall where you will be having a girls’ day with Helena and Hunnigan, your former coworkers. Despite retiring because you were going to become a mother, you still stayed close with the two.
As soon as the car is no longer in his sight, he heads back into your shared home. Rory asks to be put back down so Leon does as she wants, bending down with a slight groan and making sure she’s standing upright before he lets go and bends back up, another groan escaping his mouth along with the faint pops of joints. My age is definitely catching up with me now, he thinks to himself though he doesn’t mind if it’s you he’ll be aging with.
“Daddy! I want to play!” Rory excitedly says as she takes Leon’s hand with her tiny ones and drags him to the stairs, heading for the direction of her room.
“Alright, alright, kiddo. Let’s head up, no?” he asks with a pleased smile. There’s dishes waiting in the sink and laundry waiting to be folded but they all could wait if it means spending some time making his daughter smile. The sight of his daughter’s grin and the gold wedding band that flashes a bright gold beam whenever the sunlight hits it is something his former self didn’t think he could ever experience. Back in ‘98, he was certain that the farthest length of meeting the greatest love in his life and starting a family would stop at dreams and wishful thinking but he was wrong.
He didn’t even realize they had reached the top of the stairs as he almost trips, engrossed in the sweet monologue he had going on in that head of his. His daughter’s tiny arms push him into the pastel yellow and pink room before shutting the door and proceeding to yank out tutus and tiaras from a toy basket.
“Sit.” she sternly says as she points to the carpeted ground right beneath Leon’s feet. Not one to disobey a lady’s orders, he promptly sits down with crossed legs and looks at her with genuine interest. Not too long after, Leon is dolled up to look the part of “a pretty princess for a tea party but you’re only the second prettiest because I’m the first one”, which earns a small laugh from him. Even to himself, he's second to everything because he always keeps his girls at first.
Rory hands him a small mirror so Leon can see the sparkly splash of pink, green and orange on his eyelids as well as the most pink blush he’s ever seen. His lips are the brightest shade of red ever making him look real goofy but if it means making his daughter’s day, he doesn’t mind; she’s the princess and he’s just the jester (and the occasional knight in shining armor). She swiftly puts her own play make-up on, her own lids smeared with different sparkly shades of pink and her lips in the same red shade as Leon’s.
“Your highness, let me get the tea and cookies.” she says in a wonky British accent.
“Alright, my beautiful princess.” Leon says, though he doesn’t put on a fake accent.
“Daddy, no! You’re supposed to also say ‘and please give me the sugar plum tea’! Again!” she says with a hand to the hip, dropping the accent.
“Okay,” he softly mutters with an amused smile. She definitely got the sass from her mother. “Alright, my beautiful princess, please give me the sugar plum tea!” he repeats.
She smiles brightly and excitedly announces that it’s coming right up. She walks out of the room, occasionally coming back in to take some more cups, plates, spoons, and bowls. Wait? Bowls? The princess is putting her heart and soul into this so-called “sugar plum tea”. Because the princess was brought up with manners and polite etiquette, she served Leon some cookies and cakes as he waited, along with a Beanie Baby that her uncle Chris got her (insisting it’s a snack, providing no further explanations). Playing along, he loudly made chomping sounds while she walked out of the room and busied herself with the tea. After a few minutes, she walks back inside with a tea pot and tiny cups filled with water.
“Sorry to keep you waiting, madame. My chef ahem is new to the kitchen so I had to tell him how to prepare tea the princess way,” she apologizes as she sets the cup in front of Leon with a complementary saucer.
With a sharp eye, he looks at the water and sees that there isn’t anything floating on the water; the water doesn’t look cloudy too and it’s impossible for her to have gone downstairs and taken water from the dog’s bowl so he deemed it safe to drink. After all, she did exert some effort into actually “making” the tea. He hooks his fingers in the loop of the tea cup, making sure to emulate the sticking out pinky finger just like Rory is doing before taking a sip. “The water doesn’t have an odd taste. Okay, she definitely wasn’t fooling around,” Leon quietly observes. He gives her a bright smile, complimenting the tea and calling it “the most delightful beverage to ever tickle my taste buds, a true drink fit for the prettiest princesses in this kingdom”, which prompts the little girl in front of him to giggle and start complimenting the “chef” who prepared the “tea” (the “chef” is, in fact, the Djungelskog that Leon got for you when you were 6 months into the pregnancy and very much emotional every time you saw the bear at IKEA’s window or online site). Apparently the chef is French and has worked with Barney and the Little Einsteins, according to her. This entire moment is too silly and wholesome so Leon decides to take a selfie, making a mental note to send this to you later on.
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The tea party carried on for a few more minutes until she got drowsy, prompting Leon to get up and carry her over to her bed. Grabbing a few sheets of wipes, he removes the eyeshadow and lipstick on her face before unclipping some clips from her hair and taking her tutu off. It doesn’t take long for her to fall asleep and Leon picks the toys up, pouring the water out of the pots and cups and wiping them dry before putting them back in the basket. He takes this chance to finally get back at the chores waiting for him but not before he sends the picture to you. Opening the app and choosing the contact named “my Y/N”, he sends a short message asking how you are and detailing the sweet playtime he had with your daughter along with the picture. After an hour or two, he finally finishes doing the chores– even sweeping the floors and polishing the dining table, as well as bathing the dog. He gets in the shower and freshens up, remembering the tender moment hours ago and finding himself smiling wider each time.
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It’s now quarter to 6 and Leon finishes setting up dinner just as the bell rings. He practically skips to the door, his face lighting up with joy when he sees you. He takes your bag and slings it over his shoulder, undoing the strap of your sandals and asking about how your day went. As you step out of them, he takes the heels and places it on the shoe cabinet and puts your bag on the couch. Rory jumps off of the couch, excitedly walking over to you and hugs your legs with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. She tells you about her and her dad’s day, tiny hand gently holding your wrist as she leads you to the dining table for dinner. You were just about to reach over a piece of food and cut it up into smaller pieces for her when Leon places a hand on yours, telling you that he’ll do it.
“C’mon honey, you were out walking all day. Just sit and have dinner, I’ll do it this time,” he softly says. You don’t argue against him, letting him do the cutting. Rory does all the talking, which you are thankful for since your social battery is nearly drained.
Dinner tasted amazing as usual and now your entire family is in the living room, watching The Little Prince on the TV. What Coco does to Leon, The Little Prince does to you; you’ve never finished the movie without shedding a few tears and laying on Leon’s shoulder for some comfort. Though you both know it’s a movie that has you reduced to tears, you still choose to put it on because not only is it genuinely good, it’s a movie Rory loves. While waiting for the movie to finally load, a question pops up in your mind.
“Sweetie, where’d you get the water for your tea from?” you ask. Leon doesn’t mind, probably guessing that she got it from the water bottle you forgot to bring downstairs in the morning.
“I got it from the fish tank!” she beams. Your smile swiftly drops and your head turns to Leon; you swear you’ve never seen the color drain that fast from his face. The movie finally loads but Leon feels slightly off, the food in his stomach making him feel a little odd. He’s that weak for his little girl; he’s a seasoned agent trained to read people by their mannerisms but his daughter’s devious giggling made it past his normally highly-perceptive gaze.
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NOTE - I whipped this fic up right after @agent-dessis-posts asked me if I write dad!Leon and I immediately got that burst of motivation. There was this book called "Make A Wish" that I read around mid-November and the dad matched ID/DI!Leon's description so the whole time I just pictured that version of Leon whilst reading and it was AMAZING (the dad in the book is a single dad to a nine year old which made it even more amazing for me). Anyways, you guys seem to really like my fics which I appreicate a lot so thank you so much!!! I'll post the directory to my blog soon, I'm just making things look cuter :)
The heart dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).
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luna-ainsworth · 2 months
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You ever think that Edwin's death would become kind of an urban legend around the neighborhoods of St.Hilarion, and at some point there must have been thrill seekers who came to the now abandoned boarding school and tried to see if they could summon him?
The first time that happened, it was a slow night at the Dead Boy Detectives office, a case had just been concluded, Edwin was reading a book aloud while Charles relaxed next to him, fatigue slowly ebbing away with Edwin's soothing voice when suddenly, Edwin started to radiate a strange green light that quickly grew in intensity until it was too blinding to look at. Charles closed his eyes, his hand instinctively raised up to shield him from the extreme brightness. He heard himself calling for Edwin still, seeking a response, an explanation. The light vanished as suddenly as when it came. The air is quiet, too quiet and uncomfortable for Charles to continue looking away. He turned around for Edwin.
Edwin was gone. Charles began to panic.
They had spent all these years together solving supernatural mysteries and running away from Death. The cases didn't always draw to a successful close, yet they had never failed to escape from her.
Maybe this time they weren't so lucky.
But something wasn't right. Charles paced himself through the panic in his mind. If Death did come for them, shouldn't she haven taken them both?
Charles was still in the office, no blue light in sight.
Blue light, Charles repeated to himself. The light that got Edwin was green.
The gears in his brain are turning. He began to search the entire office book by book to find one that wrote about supernatural lights and their meaning.
It dawned on Charles that Edwin was summoned by an occult ritual. Which meant it was possible that Edwin was being trapped somewhere.
Without delay, Charles grabbed his backpack and headed to the mirror to search for Edwin. He had no idea where to start, but he would turn the whole world upside down for Edwin if he had to. He guessed he would figure it out along the way. After all, he too, was a detective.
It was right when Charles already in front of the mirror that Edwin emerged from it. Charles couldn't help but to yank Edwin into a tight hug.
Edwin told he was summoned to their old boarding school. The people who summoned him, he said, were a bunch of curious young boys and girls who, firstly couldn't see him at at and secondly, they clearly had no clue what they were doing, for the place they did the summoning was the same place where Edwin was sacrificed to a demon in Hell. The whole situation made him shudder, the horror of that faithful night an aching scar in his soul, not to mention the possibility of things going south during the summoning and those young people would suffer the same fate as him, Edwin too would get dragged back to Hell one more time. Lucky for them and for Edwin as well, no demon was summoned, but one of them had accidentally broken the salt circle that was confining Edwin in, just enough so that he can slip through and quietly escape through a mirror in the rest room. Edwin explained he didn't want to encourage them by making a fuss and thus made his presence be known.
The second time it happened, it was both of them that get summoned. The destination was that attic where they first met years ago. They came to an agreement that this time they should make a fuss, because the living apparently wouldn't just let them rest in peace. Before getting here they were very much engrossed in their own peculiar little concert, with Charles singing some of his favorite songs from the 80s that Edwin couldn't quite get the meaning, and Edwin humming the classical pieces that were popular back in his day.
And so they carried out some paranormal activities just to give those annoying people a proper scare. Charles and Edwin wrapped up the incident when the last of them scrambled out of the attic and fled from the building.
Back to the office, Edwin decided to conduct a thorough research on anti-summoning spell to ensure the same ordeal wouldn't happen again in the future.
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jubileemon · 6 months
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Orihime's Powers and Representation
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Orihime's power in regards to her characterization. Orihime is an idealist. She exists in a very violent world, yet refuses to fight unless she's under really terrible pressure. She used to see Ichigo as her Prince Charming, her Knight in Shining Armor, until she realized that is simply wasn't the case. The girl was pretty much living in her own little fantasy world to cope with her HUGE troubles, which is why yanking her out of it and making her face a reality so stange to her own left her so distraught. So what do her powers do exactly? Reject reality.
Also in regards to Orihime, the reason why Loly and Menoly hate her even more after she uses her Reality Warper powers to bring them back to life. is more complicated than just being two ungrateful sadists. To start, Hollows/Arrancar/Espada as a whole are beings that are born when souls don't cross to Soul Society and stay in our world, becoming corrupted with supernatural energies. And here, two Arrancar girls (Hollows who have removed their mask and gained Shinigami-like powers) have witnessed how a lowly human has the power to undo death, pretty much messing with everything they know about their own existence. What is a crowning moment for Orihime, in the view of these two girls (and especially Loly, who had a better look at all of this than Menoly since she was horribly mutilated by Grimmjow yet she was not dead) is like catching view of an abomination, which explains the whole "she's a monster" deal.
Hollows, beings that are born from death, despair and fear, are being faced with a being who can literally rewrite reality so that events do not occur. Taken in this context, Orihime is less like an angel of mercy to these two and more like a God from their perspective. A being whose nature and abilities are so alien that they outright defy explanation. Considering this, its understandable that they would react less than pleasantly to what happened to them.
Further to the above point on Orihime's character in relation to her powers — there's a very specific reason why Orihime actually used to be useless on the battle field, and it's not any kind of limit on her power. It's been heavily alluded to that Orihime's power is pretty much limited by her own imagination. Naturally, when it comes to helping people, her healing powers can reverse pretty much anything. However, think about who Orihime is. She wouldn't hurt a fly if she could help it. She can take down random Hollows like that mook that was attacking Tatsuki in the school because it's monstrous in appearance, and they'll hurt more people if she doesn't attack. Place a humanoid enemy in front of her, and will take her a while to see that she should consider them an enemy, and she simply cannot attack them unless it's really needed. This is why Tsubaki's power will always be the most limited of her set.
Actually, about Tsubaki... think about the Shiten Koushun aka Shield of Four Heavens' Resistance. How is it formed? Via adding Tsubaki to the Three God Reflection Shield, thus making him turn a defensive barrier into an offensive weapon. Tsubaki is the weakest of the six Rikka spirits as well as the one who's less like her, personality wise; and the ones forming the Reflection Shield (Hinagiku, Lilly and Baigon) are relatively similar to her in character. This means that, if she wants to join the battle effectively, Orihime must accept to use Tsubaki yet not by simply sending him off towards the enemy (like many of her haters want her to), but by integrating him to the side that she dominates the most. Only by using Tsubaki in combination with Hinagiku, Lily, and Baigon can she draw his attack potential... mirroring how Orihime must now fight alongside Ichigo, Chad, and others if she wants to not stay behind. Also, when was the Shiten Koushun seen first? When she and Ichigo were attacked by Ginjou. Who was actually a humanoid enemy (more exactly the formwr Substitute Shinigami, but we didn't know that back then, and neither did she). This means that Orihime either is working on the issue mentioned above or has already gotten past behind it.
As for her Santen Kesshun (Three God Reflection Shield)? It too, is not the fragile thing it seems to be. It is specifically stated to Reject an attack and its consequences. It stands to perfectly good reason that it doesn't matter if the shield shatters instantly or not — another can always be thrown up. What matters is that whether the shield shatters or not, it genuinely DOES reject the attack that hits it.
Furthermore, it actually makes a ton of sense that it shatters so easily, too. Orihime's powers are a form of reality warping, after all, being what Aizen calls "the Rejection of Events"; she's essentially the Queen of Retcons. When her base shield blocks an attack, it also retcons that attack out of existence. But then, that raises the question... if there was never any attack to block, then why would she even make a shield in the first place? The reason it shatters isn't that it's fragile; it's the shield disappearing in a Puff of Logic because the attack it was meant to block suddenly never existed in the first place.
As for her Santen Kesshun (Three God Reflection Shield)? It too, is not the fragile thing it seems to be. It is specifically stated to Reject an attack and its consequences. It stands to perfectly good reason that it doesn't matter if the shield shatters instantly or not — another can always be thrown up. What matters is that whether the shield shatters or not, it genuinely DOES reject the attack that hits it.
Furthermore, it actually makes a ton of sense that it shatters so easily, too. Orihime's powers are a form of reality warping, after all, being what Aizen calls "the Rejection of Events"; she's essentially the Queen of Retcons. Logically, when her base shield blocks an attack, it also retcons that attack out of existence. But then, that raises the question... if there was never any attack to block, then why would she even make a shield in the first place? The reason it shatters isn't that it's fragile; it's the shield disappearing because the attack it was meant to block suddenly never existed in the first place.
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PR STUNT - Gojo Satoru
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Synopsis: After crashing the Met Gala, publicist Y/n set her celebrity client Gojo Satoru on a charming PR stunt with the daughter of the CEO of a fashion brand to patch things up. Uncooperative, Y/n has to step in and pretend to be her in a romantic photoshoot.
Word count: 1.1k of pure comedy and fluff.
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“Okay now hold hands.” 
His hands met the clammy palms of Ms Beaumont’s and Satoru positively wanted to die.
I’m too rich to be forced to do this, Satoru mentally groaned.
He was a poor tortured soul, forced to enter into a publicity stunt after he accidentally crashed the met gala.
“I didn’t mean to show up drunk and half naked!” He wailed. 
Y/n, his publicist of five years, was giving him hell.
You were absolutely done with his shenanigans. You and his pr team decided to force him through an eight month long publicity stunt with the daughter of a major fashion brand.
“It’s to make people think that you appreciate and respect the fashion industry.” You explained, giving him a seething glare. He pouted. “I do appreciate the fashion industry! Whatever I wear, I still look hot!”
You stared at him, unblinking, wondering how in the world you ended up with such a client.
Leaving the room with laptop in hand and much needed coffee in the other, he called out in a hurry. “Everyone thought that showing up shirtless was a stylistic choice!”
So there you guys were. You were overseeing a very fake looking photoshoot in which Satoru and Ms Beaumont were strolling through central park, looking very much in love.
Well, Satoru kept refusing to even touch Ms Beaumont, and Ms Beaumont was glued to her phone screen.
“Okay, this isn’t working.” The photographer was pissed. You all were - you were only keeping it together because Ms Beaumont and Satoru had enough money combined to buy a country. The photographer sat Ms Beaumont down on a bench and cornered her, while a makeup artist was touching up Satoru.
“I need you to look at Satoru like he is the best thing you’ve ever seen.” The photographer said. He was basically talking to a brick wall - she was scrolling through instagram. “He isn’t though.” She monotoned, bored out of her mind. “Well I need you to pretend that he is!”
She stopped scrolling and looked up at the photographer like he was the dumbest person alive. 
He paused, stepped away for a second, and breathed deep and hard to calm himself down. When he returned, his mouth was pinched and he was borderline crying. “Look, just picture something you love the most, or something that makes you extremely happy. Then picture it pasted onto Satoru’s face. Can you do that?”
He was speaking to her like she was a child. She nodded, yawned, then commented several fire emojis under a shirtless man’s post. 
“Don’t do that.” The photographer had tears streaming down his cheeks now. He shook his head. “You’re in love with Satoru. You can’t be-“ He snatched the phone off of Ms Beaumont aggresively - “commenting on other men’s posts.”
**
Take two was going well. The photographer’s advice was working wonders - Ms Beaumont was actually smiling and looking at Satoru happily (miracle!) and Satoru was holding her hand! (he looked a little frightened, nothing photoshop can’t fix).
The photographer was taking fake paparazzi photos of the two of them. They were taking a casual stroll, and the photographer was taking shots in rapid procession to make it look candid and organic.
Big mistake - he captured the progression of the most funniest thing you had ever seen in your life.
All of a sudden, Ms Beaumont reached up, grasped a clump of Satoru’s white hair, and yanked it as hard as possible towards her.
“OOW!” He yelped.
“GET HER AWAY FROM ME!” He RAN behind the production crew and hid behind his manager, actual TEARS in his eyes. “SHE’S A PSYCHO!”
“Why would you do that?” The photographer screeched.
She shrugged and grabbed her phone out of her bag. “You told me to imagine he was something I loved. When I see a birkin bag, I want to grab it.”
**
Legal action.
Satoru was threatening legal action.
As his publicist, a law suit is just about the worst thing that he could do.
Drunkenly crashing the met gala shirtless and then filing a lawsuit against his alleged girlfriend all in one month is enough to send you into cardiac arrest.
The sun was setting fast. Golden hour was rapidly approaching. Ms Beaumont won’t be in New York City for the next two months - you needed to get those photos.
You took out your phone to check your emails. Dazedly scrolling through sponsorship opportunities, hate mail and fashion companies wanting to sue Satoru, the photographer suddenly placed his palm on your shoulder.
“You know, when you’re bent over your screen like that you remind me a lot of Ms Beaumont.” 
You paused. “..Thank you.”
He earnestly nodded. “You have the same hair colour and height. Good camera angles and a little bit of touching up is all you need to look like her.”
“What?”
He sighed, exasperated. “Look at her.”
Ms Beaumont was taking selfies of her outfit.
“This isn’t working. They have no chemistry and they’re scattered across the globe half the time. Why don’t you just pretend to be her? You resemble her a lot now that I think about it.”
oh no.
**
Your feet were shoved into heels. You hair was quickly straightened. Your entire outfit was worth more than everything you earned in the past two years. 
And Satoru’s arm was firmly fastened around your waist.
He got over the whole hair grabbing ordeal suspiciously quickly, cheering up exponentially when he was told that you were replacing Ms Beaumont. He practically skipped back into position.
You were positioned away from the camera so that it wasn’t obvious that you weren’t Ms Beaumont. Your face was, essentially, stuffed into Satoru’s chest.
Against the hollow click - click of the camera’s shutter, Satoru warmly chuckled. He inclined his head downward, his forehead touching yours rather intimately.
“YES!” The photographer squealed.
“You feel stiff.” He whispered, voice low in the limited space between your lips.
He wrapped his other arm around your waist and gently guided you into a more relaxed position. “That’s better.” He smiled, thickly lashed eyelids slightly lowering. His blue eyes hungrily scanned your eyes, then your cheeks, then your lips.
You were getting madly sweaty.
“Am I making you nervous?” He teased.
Yes, yes you are.
“No.”
You looked away.
“You only make me nervous when you do stupid stuff in public.” You scolded.
He chuckled again and cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to look at him only. “I should do stupid stuff more often.”
“What?” You hissed. 
He laughed harder, more…affectionately?
“I get to spend more time with you when I do.”
You flashbacked to the long, long night of scoldings you gave him at the office the night after the met gala incident.
The sound of the camera stopped, and the photographer looked faint with relief.
“That’s a wrap!” He cried.
Reluctantly, Satoru let go of your face, the memory of your eyes and lips still engrained in his mind.
He watched you scurry off red faced with a smile and a wild, erratic beating in his heart that he hoped you couldn’t feel.
The next eight months didn’t seem so terrible after all.
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lil-bitty-lubdubs · 3 months
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The Basement Series-Septima Pt.1
Part 1
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She awoke slowly, the world coming into her consciousness at snail speeds. Her brain felt heavy as if cotton was stuffed into its membranes. Her vision foggy though every light about her shimmered too bright for her to directly look at. Her strength was sapped, too weak to even raise her head up off the floor…
            Table. It’s a table… or bed,  she told herself. She was too far up for it to be the floor. Where is this? It was a dark room. Windowless. High celling. A basement. She tried to remember. Glove. A black glove covering her mouth. She remembered as fractured pieces of her past her coming into her consciousness. Rag. The glove was holding a soaked cloth. The stench- awful. Then darkness took her.
oh shit! She tried to panic but her heart was slow. Abnormally slow though steady. She turned her head to look around. There was bright earth blinding lights above her but the rest of the room was in shadow. It was a dark, dank place with no windows, no soul. It was the kind of place Bundonians would go to pay homage.
            “Oh God…” she crooned softly to herself, but someone heard.
            “Ah! You’re awake darling.” A man’s voice startled her though her heart only elevated slightly.
It was as if her heart was carrying a wide load behind it reacting too little too late, but the longer she was awake the more the weight was lifting. “Good. I’m glad to see those eyes.” His shadow appeared approaching from the left. That’s when she noticed it. The heart monitor just next to her bedside. She peered at the lines moving and shifting on its screen. She was confused a moment. Then she saw the wires attached to it. She traced them with her eyes from the machine straight to their source. Her chest. She realized she was unclothed save a thin white sheet covering her nudity. Her awakening heart picked up its beat, fear setting in. “What the hell…?”
            “I see you’re beginning to understand the fun we’re going to have together.” The man’s voice was cheerful, calm, and slick as a snake’s skin. He was out of the shadows now. He was not very tall though a bit heavyset, but muscular probably around 35. Brunet. He wore a white lab coat like a doctor would on a bad TV show. He took her wrist gently, pressing in to feel her pulse.
            “What?” She asked. “What do you mean? What the hell are you talking about? “Who are you?” she spoke each phrase louder than the next until she was yelling. “You’re crazy. You’re insane! Let me go!” she whimpered trying to get her other hand out from under the sheet.
            “Oh but you will see …uh…”he looked at a plastic ID card…”Septima is it darling? I’m Cal. Dr. Cal if you will. We’re about to embark on a journey, you and I, and have so much fun along the way. He reached down under the sheet and slid a hand between her legs as she wiggled. “Mmm. Wet.” His eyes glistened lust.
            “Nooo!” she let out a scream. “Don’t you touch me!!” she yelled as loud as she could. He remained unphased. Taking his hand out as he yanked off the sheet uncovering her completely.
            “No!” She screamed again, feeling exposed and vulnerable. This is not going to end well.
            “Now, now, its alright.” He murmured and patted her hand locking his whole palm over her wrist while pulling her arm well above her head, holding it down.
            “Let me go!” She railed. “Stop. Let me GO!” she thrashed weakly.
            The doctor used his free hand to turn a nozzle and a sizzle was birthed into the air. An oxygen mask descended towards her face.
            Septima willed her heart into overdrive and flailed one handed even harder. She tried bringing her legs up to kick him but found they were already strapped to the table. She held her breath as he fixed the mask over her head and attached it with the elastic straps holding it in place with his hand as she tried to claw at it. In the pool she had a 4 minute breath hold. She could probably hold out for 2-3 now with all the energy she was exerting.
            Clearly the doctor was surprised how long she could hold it and began to feel impatient. Perhaps even angry. Good.
            “No. No. No darling Breathe. You need to breathe in Septima.” he urged. She refused.
He turned and grabbed a toilet plunger looking thing with his free hand as he locked her other arm together with the one above her head. He settled the contraption right in the middle of her abdomen, just underneath the ribs. “Breathe in. Breathe in. BREATHE!” He willed her, but she stubbornly held out.
            By now her heart was thudding in her chest right up against her sternum. She could feel the urge to breathe rise up, but it didn’t overwhelm her. Yet. He held out a moment longer giving her a chance to comply before thrusting his weight behind the plunger. It riveted a shock wave of air from deep within her chest all the way up her esophagus. It resulted in what sounded like a grunt as air left her lungs. A significant amount of air, but she refused to take a breath. He thrust again. More air leaked out of her. “Come now darling.” he said through gritted teeth. Yep. He’s angry. That strengthened her resolve. Maybe he’d run out of gas soon. He thrust 3 more times in quick succession though these weren’t as forceful as the first 2. But now, her lungs were empty. The burning in her chest grew every second. Spots danced before her eyes.
She needed to breathe. She had to. AIR. It was all that mattered. She gave up the fight and inhaled. A pure deep, clean lungful of cold oxygen tainted with sweet tasting gas. Relief flooded her chest, her eyes rolled back. She took another shallow breath. Her head already spinning.  But she was still intent on resisting further.  Clearly he knew what she was thinking because he leaned into the plunger contraption again. The breath left her inflated lungs. Too soon!  she screamed inside. She breathed in deeply again mouth open, desperate for air, her resolve failing.
One more time he thrust. By now she was barely conscious though still aware, lungs automatically filling in half bursts. Her body just stopped responding. Her precious heart slowed its rate again. Abnormally slow. It was calm and steady no matter how much she wanted it to kick into gear.
What the hell did he give me? she wondered. “Wrraanmrg…” was all that escaped her mouth.
“Yes. That’s it darling. That’s it. Give In to it! That a girl. Gooood. That’s right. Take a deep breathe. Just give in. Good girl! Yes darling, that’s it! Breathe! Just breathe in.” he crooned into her ear, one hand sliding right between her breasts to feel the surge of her chest rise and fall.  She was no longer in control and she was losing consciousness. She yielded herself to him, no longer caring as his two fingers nestled in to feel her carotid pulse.
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mushroommanstan · 1 year
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A douchey frat guy tries to hit on Y/N, only for her to shoot him down. But he’s PERSISTENT. Y/N tries to avoid him until she meets up with Tenko. Ylthe frat guy is SHOCKED that a babe like Y/N is with a ‘creep’ like Tenko Shimura! He tries to convince her to ditch him, until she finally snaps. Instead of tearing the douche a new asshole, she makes her point by aggressively making out with Tenko instead
“Well aren’t you a pretty little thing?” Some frat idiot slurred into your ear, way too close for comfort. You jerked back, turning around in an instant and seeing this guy who’s obviously trying to look sexy. He had a toothpick in his mouth, a surprisingly well maintained soul patch and some messy slicked back hair.
If you were any other girl, you’re sure you’d be at least a little intrigued. Maybe even attracted. But nah, he picked the worst target for flirts at the party.
“Thanks.” You replied apathetically, pointedly looking away from him and back at the busy bartender of the frat house. Your face was blank, your eyes wandering far from him, obviously not interested. Regardless, he persevered.
“S’ anyways, the other day I saw the stupid retro arcade game in the common area. I don’t usually play that stuff, y’know, it’s kinda for nerds. But-“ he glanced down at your phone, seeing the background having the same characters from the game. “Something tells me you dabble in it.” He continued.
“Anyways I got like, 20,000 points or whatever on my first try.” He boasted, and you had to stop yourself from laughing. Seriously? 20k? This guys trying to brag about a measly 20k? Tenko could get that with his eyes closed. Speaking of which…
“Hey y/n?!” You turned your head, searching for the speaker before your eyes landed on the makeshift bouncer at the door. Behind him, a disgruntled Tenko with his arms crossed. “He-yeah, Shimura over here says you invited him?” He chuckled in disbelief.
You held your forehead, shaking your head in dismay. Of course he wouldn’t be let in, damn it, why didn’t you think of that? He must’ve been waiting for you there for ages. Poor baby, you can’t believe you were so careless after all you’re begging for him to come.
Taking your head shaking as an answer, the bouncer turned back to Tenko, crossing his arms as well. “Alright, nice try man. Go home and… sniff panties or something I don’t know, pervert.” Even from the distance, you could see the hurt in tenkos eyes as he stared at you, utterly betrayed.
No. NO! You didn’t mean that-
“Ugh, what’s that guy doing here? Saying he knows you? What a creep. What say you I go over there and-“
The show-off next to you proposed, but you were already gone, hopped off your seat and dashing towards your sweet baby before the door closed. You yanked it open just in time and cried “Yes! Yes oh my god yes I invited him here babe I’m so sorry!”
Tenko let out a sigh of relief, smiling a little as you pulled him inside gently by the arm. You guided him to the bar where you were originally sitting, all the while gushing apologies.
“I promise babe I’ll make it up to you. Here, I got us some drinks coming it should only be a little bit.” You told him, taking your seat as Tenko took his. He just grunted in response, returning to the aloof brick wall he always became in public. (It just made the intimate moments with him in private where he practically melts under your praise all the sweeter)
The frat guy cleared his breath, taken off guard a bit, then after clearing his throat awkwardly, continued. “Yeah, uh, nice friend there, heh. Um… so, anyways, you wanna make my night and come to my place after this for some “coffee”.” He actually did air quotes for the ‘coffee’, being so unbelievably subtle.
Tenko stiffened at this, staring at you in an almost begging way as his tear-jerkingly vulnerable eyes just dared you to pretend you didn’t know him again. They dared you to confirm his insecurities.
You scoffed, taking Tenkos hand in yours and showing it to the guy. “Yeah, no thanks. I’m taken.” In synchronize, the man frowned as Tenko smiled, his fears put to rest as you pressed a kiss to his forehead.
The man guffawed un-genuinely. “What? This creep? Seriously? You know he steals girls underwear right?-“
“not proven” Tenko grumbled.
“-right, sure, “not proven”. Seriously doll, what’s he got that I don’t!”
“Well, for one thing, deodorant.” You snapped.
Tenko cackled at that, and the guy fumed. Before losing his cool, he calmed himself under a blanket of delusion. “Whatever. Y’know what? ‘Bet this is all a set up. Yeah, bet you paid him or something so you could play hard to get. The bits over babe, heh, you can’t seriously believe someone like you, would be hanging around with someone like that instead of me.”
Now it was your turn to fume. You saw Tenkos lean muscles tense under his shirt, and his mouth opening as he was about to defend your relationship, but you beat him to the punch. In one swift movement, you made the other man speechless as when you grabbed Tenko by the back of his head and pulled him to you, messily colliding your lips.
He let out a muffled yelp of surprise, grabbing onto your shoulders instinctively as you moved into his lap for better access. You sucked on his tongue before infiltrating his mouth with yours, making him moan and his eye lids droop in pleasure.
The rude fellows jaw dropped, along with those around him at the scene. You were sure to go the extra mile in showing them just how much you loved your Ten-ten, theatrically grabbing his hair and pulling his head back, showing off the fresh hickies on his neck amongst all the scars. The deep purple bruises stuck out like a sore thumb.
“Holy shit!” One of the spectators hollered. “Fucking Shimuras getting more action than Davis!”
Ah, so thats his name. Davis. You could tell it was the sleaze-bags name by the way his face flushed red in embarrassment. He grumbled something before distancing himself from the both of you for the rest of the night lest he humiliate himself further.
Tenko had bit of a quiet night after that while you party-hardyied, opting to chill on the couch for a while playing Pokémon Black 2 while nursing on his whiskey. Every so often he’d glance in your direction, making sure you’re not doing something TOO stupid.
And when it was over, he carried you home bridal style. You weren’t so drunk that you couldn’t walk, but you were drunk enough to whine about wanting to be carried home. He didn’t really mind, it was a good workout anyways.
And when you both made it home, he tucked you into bed, kissing your forehead and placing a glass of water along with an Advil for when you woke up. Then, he grabbed his lock picking kit and made his way to the old flirty merty’s house. Davis, right? Yeah, that’s the one.
But don’t worry. He just put an old dog turd on his pillow. A petty, jealous revenge sure, but none the less effective. After all,
You were HIS.
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autisticlancemcclain · 11 months
Text
“Neither of you are getting it.”
Twin sighs come from his laptop speakers. Lance lifts his head up from where he’s smushed it into his pillow to glare at his two best friends who apparently hate him, for some reason.
“I mean, there’s not much to get,” Pidge says. “You’re a big dumb gay loser and this predicament effects you emotionally.” She looks at Hunk as if to ask, right?, and Hunk, who is a traitor of the worst kind, shrugs in agreement.
“I don’t even get what you’re worried about, man. You have consistently been the one to get him the best gifts for years. None of us even try to beat you.”
“That’s the point!” Lance shrieks. “You’re not listening! I had ideas every other year, Hunk! This year I have nothing!” He taps his head aggressively. “There is not one thing in here! Nada!”
Pidge snickers. “Well, that’s not new.”
“Can it, Pidgeon.”
Hunk holds his hands up placatingly before the two of them can really start to go at it. “Alright, alright. Pidge, have mercy on him. He’s suffering. Lance —” he falters. “Dude, you walked into that one. Sorry.”
Lance will concede to that point. He kind of set his own trap. But still, he’s having a crisis, Pidge as his best friend should be going easy on him, so he sticks his tongue out at her.
“I just — ugh.” He takes a moment to fluff his pillows back up before falling backwards on them and throwing a hand over his face. This is a ridiculous thing to be so bothered by, and he knows it, but he is. Bothered by it, that is. He hasn’t been this lost since the first year they were in space.
“Lance,” Hunk says gently, startling him. “It’s August, dude. Keith’s birthday is two months away. You really, truly, do not need to be stressing about it.”
Lance’s eyes trace the long-faded glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling. His gazes unfocuses on the red-orange star that represents Pollux, which has always been his favourite.
“This will be the first time I’ve seen him in months,” Lance says quietly. “I want him —” he swallows. The dryness of his throat makes his voice scratchy. “I want to be perfect.”
It. He had meant to say, I want it to be perfect. Because that’s what he wants — he wants Keith to get here safely and actually be able to stay this time and nothing to go wrong and him to celebrate his birthday surrounded by his loved ones, his friends and family. And — Lance. Wants to be there. Also.
He swallows again. It’s harder this time.
“He’s going to love anything you give him,” Pidge says, uncharacteristically soft. “You know he’s just going to be glad to see you upright and in one piece.”
Lance winces and the strained quality of her voice, the sudden darkness in Hunk’s expression. He knows he’s the cause of it.
It was hard on the team, his death.
He knows it was. That’s why he never talks about it. (They were never supposed to even know about it. When Lance’s soul was yanked back into his body and Allura gasped in relief and hugged him to her chest and sobbed out, I thought I was too late, Lance clamped his mouth shut and kept it that way. When he had rare moments on their long trip home where the adrenaline began to fade and he felt his heart begin to slow, he picked fights. He ran sims. He made stupid decisions. He kept his body distracted and his mind wound so tightly around Red’s that there was no chance for it to slip, to remember what had happened to him, to fade back into that dark and silent place. He kept his mouth shut and kept his quintessence dragged up to the highest level he could bring it.
And when they defeated Sendak, and they had to sacrifice their lions or sacrifice their friend, Lance’s hands shook and he made the obvious choice. And he doesn’t know what happened, when the adrenaline finally faded and the one thing keeping him tethered to their plane disappeared, but he knows when his soul was yanked back into his body, permanently this time, his friends wouldn’t answer his questions or let him out of their sight and all of them had the same haunted look to their eyes. He has never had the strength to ask. But he has been careful with himself, since. He covers his Altean marks — a testament of how much Allura gave of herself to keep him alive — and keeps his feet planted on Earth and out of danger and knows that he owes it to them to keep himself safe.)
“Well, anything I could give him would be better than what you got him last year,” Lance says loudly, beating back the oppressive silence that has fallen over them. It works — Pidge scowls at him, remembering the plant she had got him that had turned out to be highly toxic to any Galra. Hunk snickers at the memory of the bright blue hives that had covered Keith’s skin for weeks.
“How was I to know?” Pidge cries. Hunk and Lance’s increasing laughter only seems to make her angrier “He — ugh! It doesn’t matter, anyway, because you handmade him a leather sheath for his knife so he wasn’t looking at what I was giving him anyway! Shut up! Ugh!”
“It’s true,” Hunk agrees, chuckling. “We should make you gift stuff last. It’s not fair and makes everyone else look bad. He couldn’t take his eyes off that sheath, last year. He still wears it every day.”
Pidge mutters something in her hand that sounds suspiciously like “he couldn’t take his eyes off of someone,” so Lance ignores her in favour of whining again.
“Yeah, well, there’s no point this year because I’ve got nothing. I started making that sheath in June. I started making his jacket from two years ago in March. But this year I didn’t have any ideas and now I don’t have the time, even if I do come up with something. ” He sighs, defeated. “It sucks. I’ve hardly seen him outside of a computer screen and I’m only going to see him less, and I can’t even give him something to remember me by.”
“You’re talking like you’re never going to see him again,” Pidge points out. “There would be way less pressure if you just — saw him more, dude.”
Lance scoffs. “Yeah, right. Lemme just pack up and run off to space with him. Boom, all problems solved.”
He blinks.
He sits up so fast he very nearly brains himself on his bed frame.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. He looks over at his friends, who are smiling widely. His heart pounds.
Holy shit.
“I gotta go,” he shouts, scrambling to grab his laptop.
“Goodbye, Lance,” Hunk says, rolling his eyes fondly.
Pidge makes a crude gesture at him because she’s the worst. “Bye, gay pining loser!”
He slams the laptop lid shut and holds it tightly to his chest. Everything, finally, starts to click into place — Lance smiles; small at first, but quickly his mouth spreads so wide his cheeks ache, and his eyes practically squish shut.
He knows what to do.
———
On the morning of October 23rd, he is stressing.
“You’re embarrassing,” calls Allura, from where she‘s been lazing on the couch and eating pineapples for the last three days.
“I regret asking for your help,” Lance grunts, struggling to lift a sack of flour. He side eyes her. “Especially because you’re supposed to be helping, Miss Superstrength.”
Allura snorts, shoving another chunk of pineapple in her mouth. “I am helping. If I wasn’t here you would have talked yourself out of this several times over. You’re welcome!”
“Ugh,” Lance says, because she’s right and he knows it. “I’m not letting you lick the spoon.”
“What? Hey!”
He does let her lick the spoon. Because he has no discipline. But to her eternal credit she does actually help, too, and in more ways than just picking him up and physically shaking him out of his many freak outs, and he has a lot of them.
He’s been planning this for weeks. There are so many aspects, so many moving parts, that it’s just — stressful. Trying to put together a party that balances all the people who want to come together and celebrate Keith’s 25th with every single time constraint and restoration effort and even Keith’s own discomfort with too much fanfare is…a lot. Plus all the actual stuff that goes into hosting people at a party — Lance absolutely would not be able to do any of this without Allura’s help. She is, after all, his best friend, even though she drives him crazy and always has, in more ways than one.
At eleven thirty, when all the (tasteful, despite what his siblings had insisted was too boring) decorations have been set up and most of the food has been prepared, Allura clasps her palms to his cheeks and says, “Lance, breathe.”
Lance looks at her with wide eyes and says, “I’m cancelling everything.”
“You’re not.”
“I am. I can’t do this. What was I thinking? This is — cringe. Ridiculous.” His chest shakes on an inhale. “What was I thinking, ‘Llura?”
She hums thoughtfully. Her thumbs trace his cheekbones, wiping away the makeup that covers his Altean marks, making Lance twitch but not move.
“You were thinking,” she says quietly, “about how long it has been since everyone has been on the same planet.”
He swallows. “Yeah.”
“And how much we have all missed each other.
His shaking hands come up to grip her wrists, breath shuddering as he exhales.
“Yes.”
“And. Maybe. How much you miss Keith.” She pulls her hands away from his face and wraps them around his hands. “How much you miss the stars, even.”
“I’m scared,” he admits.
She squeezes his hands. “When has that stopped you?”
———
It’s three thirty and there’s still no sign of Keith.
Shiro and the rest of the Atlas crew, including Hunk and Veronica, arrived arrived sometime around one. The Holts came in right on their heels. Kolivan, Krolia, and a few other Blades Keith has kept up with over the years showed up a few hours ago. Lance’s family has been here the whole time, and Coran and Romelle came with Allura. Everyone that Lance had invited to come is here.
Except the one person Lance actually wants to come.
“Lance,” Shiro greets, somehow sensing his anxiety like the guru goody goody he is and popping up next to him.
Lance smiles anyway. He’s missed him too much to do anything else — he hasn’t seen anyone on the Atlas since their last restock, ten weeks ago.
“Hey, Shiro.”
“You freaking out?”
“Yeah.”
“Good. I’d be shocked if you weren’t, you walking Xanax advertisement.”
That startles a laugh out of Lance, and he shoves him, grateful for the distraction. Shiro grins wide and throws an arm around him, guiding him away from the front door — where he’s been biting his nails and staring at the sky in anxious hope for the last twenty minutes — and back to the rest of the party, ducking under flailing limbs and the random football that someone has brought out for some reason (Marco, probably).
“He’s gonna come, you know. He’s been excited about it since you invited him. I have received no less than nine hundred and twenty-two texts about it. It’s all very sweet and embarrassing. He’s coming, Lance.”
Lance huffs. “Unless he’s dead or maimed somewhere. I did some quick stat evals and there’s at 37% chance he was attacked on the flight to Earth and is bleeding out as we speak.”
Shiro stops them. He blinks at Lance several times. He sighs.
“You actually need to see a psychiatrist. Genuinely.”
“Nah.”
Shiro flicks him on the forehead, but the fond smile stays affixed to his face. Soon Lance finds himself relaxing, tucked under Shiro’s arm. He’s probably right — he usually is. Keith is chronically late, just as a person. Lance even told him the party started at ten just to make it more likely that he’d show up before everyone left. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be places — he just struggles with the concept of time passing, and also gets distracted a lot. (There are a lot of people who need Keith’s help, after all, and he’s a bleeding heart if Lance has ever known one. All humans are wired to respond to calls for help, but Keith seems almost attuned to them. If Lance thinks about his crooked smile and kind eyes for too long he gets physically nauseous.)
As Lance’s watch ticks its way to four o’clock, a light streaks across the sky, and before Lance knows what he’s doing he ducks under Shiro’s arm and starts running. He flings open the back gate and slides down the sandy hills, barely managing not to trip on rocks and pits in the sand where children have dug little pools. He doesn’t bother to slow as the aircraft makes its fiery descent, confident the pilot will not hit him, and by the time he makes it across the beach his bare feet burn and he’s stepped on a sharp shell and lost his jacket somewhere near the house. But it doesn’t matter, because the craft lands and seconds later the door flings open and Keith comes sprinting out, still clad in armour, hair long and thick and braided back, and he runs at Lance at full speed and they collide at the top of a sand dune and Lance leaps into his arms and Keith loses his balance and they go tumbling down, laughing, Keith’s hand on his waist and Lance’s fingers clutching tightly at his shoulders.
“You made it!” Lance shouts, smile wider than he ever thought capable.
Keith laughs again, full-bodied and relieved, crooked incisors on full display and long neck pulled back as his head rests on the ground.
“I know! I’m late, I’m sorry, I lost track of time and —”
“You always lose track of time,” Lance says warmly. He traces a strand of hair that has loosened from Keith’s braid, brushing it off his forehead and tucking it behind his ear. He stays where he is, half-pinning Keith into the sand, knees on either side of him, re-memorizing the curve of his grin and the indigo of his eyes and the scars on his face and the softness of his gaze. Suddenly his chest aches, painful in the best possible way, and his stomach pits and swirls and butterflies flutter wildly in his abdomen. Heat zaps up his veins and sparks through his arteries. The slowly setting mid-autumn sun casts golden light on Keith’s face and Lance is reminded, again, how breathtaking things are outside of Earth.
“Happy birthday,” he breathes, choking on the words.
Keith’s eyes crinkle. His hand comes up to cup his cheek, thumb pressing gently on the gold Altean marks. They curve perfectly around the shape of his fingerprint.
“I missed you, Bluebell.”
Someone huffs. “Yeah, and he nearly killed us trying to get here. Some kind of leader you are, Captain.”
Keith flushes, gently pushing Lance up so he can get up and glare at Ezor properly. “We were fine!”
“We crossed nine hundred million lightyears in two days!”
“I took a shortcut!”
“Through weblum mating grounds!”
Lance punches his friend in the shoulder. Keith pouts at him, wounded.
“You flew through weblum mating grounds?!”
“It was fine!” Keith defends. “It wasn’t even an issue!”
Acxa scoffs incredulously. “We were chased by fourteen weblums at once, Kogane.”
“But did you die?”
All three of Keith’s crew roll their eyes. Keith crosses his arms smugly. Lance loves him so fiercely that it hurts.
“Keith!”
With what Lance can only call divine instinct, he has enough forethought to throw himself out of the way before a five foot nothing blur throws herself at Keith’s person and sends them both crashing to the ground, significantly more painfully that Keith and Lance’s whole thing. Keith groans loudly, but Pidge doesn’t even give him half a second to complain, dragging him back upright and hugging him properly. Keith, softie that he is, hugs her back immediately, smiling into her hair.
“Hey, Pidge.”
“Happy birthday, loser! Birthday beats!”
She, immediately, starts to let him have it, impervious to Keith’s yelps. He attempts to squirm away, but Zethrid, lover of violence and also loud supporter of Pidge in general, firmly clamps onto his shoulder to allow Pidge to assault him in peace.
“That was twenty-six!” he says in outrage when she finishes.
She smiles pleasantly. “You were late.”
Hunk, thankfully, chooses that moment to jog over, carrying an ice pack because he’s an angel and also a genius.
“Figured Pidge would come in fists swinging,” he jokes, leaning down to hug Keith tightly. “Happy birthday, man. It’s been too long.”
“It’s been two weeks,” Keith protests, but he looks like he agrees.
It doesn’t take long for the rest of the party to flock over, despite the fact that it would be much easier for everyone to just wait for Keith to walk over to them. Lance isn’t surprised — it’s not like he could wait, after all. When Keith is around, people gather. Such is the way of the world.
He smiles at the crowd of Keith’s loved ones, and especially at the bewilderment on his face. It’s been years, but Lance knows that he still gets surprised when he’s reminded how big his family has gotten. It’s nice to see that reminder written all over his face. He edges out of the smattering of people and starts to head back to the house, figuring he might as well start setting up the table to get dinner started now that Keith’s here. Most of it is already cooked and keeping warm in the oven, but he figured it would be best to wait until everyone was ready to —
“Hey, Lance, wait up.”
He startles when a hand wraps its way around his wrist, relaxing when he recognises the calloused fingers and leather-covered palm. Keith jogs over the rest of the way now that he has Lance stopped, falling into step next to him.
“What’re you doing?” Lance asks, looking at him urgently. “Go say hi to everyone!”
Keith shrugs. “I’ll get there.” He flashes another smile at Lance and it’s crooked and familiar and Lance is weak in the knees. “I started an argument about human versus Altean time measuring systems. Everyone is now picking sides. They won’t notice I’m gone for the next ten minutes at least. I’m all yours, Sharpshooter.”
Lance resists the urge to bury himself in the sand and die of mortification. There’s actually no physical reason for Keith to look the way that he does. It’s — too much. The smouldering eyes and sturdy shoulders are one thing, but with the whole — grin and hair and wide hands and fucking — everything else; it’s too much. It’s a lot. Keith should maybe — wear a mask, or something. Or a hood. Or be more of a klutz, just so he’s humbled slightly.
“Oh,” Lance croaks, trying desperately not to focus on the way Keith’s hand is still holding onto Lance. “That’s — cool.”
“Cool.”
“Cool.”
Blue, Red, if your spirits are still kicking around somewhere, send help, he prays at the heavens.
Apparently they are, because the heavens do indeed provide.
The air in front of the sparks and warps, flashing blue so bright Lance had to squeeze his eyes shut. He hears a loud bark, and opens his eyes again just in time to catch the ball of fur and floof that throws himself into his arms.
“Kosmo!” he cries, pulling away from Keith in his haste to hug the space-wolf tightly. Kosmo yips in delight, covering Lance’s face in dog slobber as he wiggles around in excitement. “Oh, buddy, I was wondering where you were! Mwah! Mwah mwah mwah!”
“He saw the crowd on the descent and got nervous,” Keith explains, scratching Kosmo’s fur fondly. “He was hiding in the back, huh, buddy?”
“Like father like son,” Lance teases. He adjusts the big dog into his arms so he’s half on his shoulders, panting right next to his ear and giving him gross slobbery kisses every three seconds.
“I do not hide from crowds,” Keith huffs. “And he can walk, Lance. Don’t baby him. He’s always spoiled after he hangs out with you.”
“You do so. And of course I spoil the little baby!” Lance coos, scratching under his chin. Kosmo howls in excitement, tail thumping hard against Lance’s hip. “Who’s the bestest boy? Who is my favourite in the whole big universe? It’s you! Yes, Kosmo-baby, it’s you! Good boy!”
“He’s not your favourite,” Keith grumps.
“Yes he is! Oh, yes he is!”
He coos over Kosmo for the whole walk back to the house, only setting him down when they make their way to the kitchen. Keith grabs the dog gently under the ear when he finally stands on his own, bending down to look him straight in the eyes.
“Kosmo,” he says quietly, angling himself slightly away from Lance, “remember what we Talked About.” He stares at the wolf for several moments. “You know. About the — thing.”
Amazingly, the dog seems to bark in understand. Keith nods in satisfaction, patting him on the head. “Good. Go do.” With a poof Kosmo disappears again, leaving just the two of them in the kitchen.
Lance pouts. “Aw. I wanted to spend more time with him. I haven’t seen him in months.”
Keith looks affronted. “You haven’t seen me in months!”
Lance turns away to hide his smile, busying himself with the food. “Eh.” He waves an oven-mitt-clad hand dismissively. “I text you all the time.
“You’re a bully,” Keith pouts. “You’re being mean to me on my birthday.”
“At the party I put together for you, dweeb. Don’t you pout at me.”
In response, Keith inserts himself into Lance with the guise of helping him plate and pouts harder.
“Bully,” he emphasizes.
Lance flicks him on the nose. Keith catches his hand and holds it hostage between two of his, rubbing his thumb along the bump of Lance’s wrist. Lance considers screaming.
“Help or get out of my kitchen,” he manages instead.
Smirking, Keith does, loading garlic knots onto a plate and stealing several, thinking he’s slick. He’s not — Lance notices, but it’s Keith’s birthday and Lance also ate like six already, so he lets it slide.
They have everything ready to go in under five minutes, loading up as much as they can carry and heading outside to set it all out. Everyone else is back by the time they get there, and Hunk and Shiro scramble to come help set up. Very quickly the party is in full swing, people eating and laughing and wishing Keith a thousand happy birthdays. Keith has always claimed to hate attention and crowds, but he’s — glowing, really. His smile doesn’t leave his face. Maybe it’s that he’s older and maybe it’s that he knows everyone. But more likely it’s the easy confidence that’s grown in him over the years, sprouting from the knowledge that he is good and he is kind and he is loved, and trusting everyone who assures him this is true. Lance remembers when he hunched his shoulders and scowled at anyone who looked at him too long. Now he smiles when someone calls his name.
There’s no rhyme or reason to the party. Lance had attempted to plan it, but given up quickly — he knows his people. They’ll flutter around something until inspiration hits and they’ll flutter around something else. The only constant has been food and loading Kosmo up with affection.
As the sun begins its journey below the horizon, someone — Adam — forces Keith into a random lawnchair and says, “Open your gifts, gremlin.”
Immediately, everyone else clambers to grab their gifts and gather around, ignoring Keith’s protests of “I’m twenty-five goddamn years old, I don’t need gifts, you people waste your time and money —” and arguing over who goes first.
Adam goes first. Obviously.
Despite Keith’s grumbling, he’s very obviously touched. He gets a range of things, from a fancy knife from his mother (again) to a framed photo from Shiro, with he and Adam grinning widely at a camera as a young Keith snores in Shiro’s lap. Keith starts bawling some time around gift number three and never really stops. Lance tries to hand him tissues, but after he uses up an entire box decides to let him be a big emotional dork in piece.
“Is this a crystal from the first Balmera we ever visited,” Keith sobs.
Hunk smiles, amused. “It is.”
He makes his way over to Keith’s lawn chair and hugs him tightly for several minutes, muttering something and pressing dozens of kisses into his hair. Keith holds him tightly. Lance himself cries on several occasions, but he’s not alone.
“I just love everyone so much,” Keith blubbers.
“Here we go,” teases Allura, but she’s the one to shoo everyone out of his space to give him a break. “Take a few minutes, darling. Gather yourself. Let me know when you’re up for company again.”
Keith nods at her gratefully. Kosmo makes his way onto Keith’s lap and plants himself there, curling up and laying his head on Keith’s knees. Lance sits on the lawn chair next to Keith, offering him a glass of water that he accepts gratefully.
“I do this every year,” Keith laments, attempting to dry his eyes.
Lance pats him delicately on the hand. “Don’t worry. It’s charming.”
Keith sniffles. “It’s embarrassing.”
“Yes.”
Lance is the only one who hasn’t given Keith his present. Well, and Allura, technically, since she’s part of it. Part of him wants to do it now, get it over with. He even finds the words for it, but then Pidge hollers something about cake, and Keith, who has the biggest sweet tooth in the entire universe, brightens, looking at Lance hopefully, and Lance swallows it down.
“Go sit at the table,” Lance orders. “I’m doing candles and you’re blowing them out.”
“That’s babyish,” Keith protests stubbornly.
“No candles, no cake.”
“Ugh.”
Keith gets up and goes to sit at the table, Kosmo pattering after him.
Smiling to himself, cheeks redder than he would like, Lance ducks back into the kitchen, digging around the cupboards for the candles he bought the other day and carefully pulling the cake out of the fridge.
It’s chocolate-chocolate-chocolate-chocolate. Quadruple chocolate. It’s chocolate cake with chocolate custard and chocolate frosting covered in chocolate decorations. What it is is sugar on a platter, and Keith will devour it. Lance spent more hours than he’s willing to admit on making it. If anyone questions him even a little he is going to die on the spot.
He carefully sticks twenty six candles — one for wishing — on the top of the cake, lighting twenty-five of them. Everyone is already sat down by the time he walks back outside, and the second Coran sees them he starts singing loudly, and everyone else is quick to join in. As much as Keith tries to roll his eyes about the truly startling amount of flame on his cake, nothing he can do can hide the obvious excitement that lights up his face upon sight of the chocolate monstrosity. He takes a deep breath and blows out the candles when the song ends, extinguishing all but one. Immediatey, a ripple of teasing snickers and ooooooou’s fill the air.
“One candle left! You’re gonna get a boyfriend this year!” Pidge shouts, looking directly at Lance.
Both Keith and Lance flush up to their foreheads.
“Cut the cake!” Allura shouts, because she is a true ally and Lance loves her.
Grateful for the distraction, Lance does, nudging Keith out of the way when he tries.
“If you cut the cake then you can’t get the first slice, dorkbrain. Sit down. Let me.”
He does let Lance cut the cake, which makes Lance feel touched for some reason. God, Shiro is right. He needs a psychiatrist. He hates it when Shiro is right.
He’s very smug to receive dozens of compliments on his cake, highest of all from Keith, who scarfs down his first piece in literal seconds (thirty seven, to be exact). He has several more. There will be no leftovers.
But Lance knew that.
It doesn’t take long for people to start milling about again; finishing their dessert and picking at the various fruit trays and chatting and watching the last rays of sun disappear. Lance twitches nervously, stealing glances at Keith, until Allura walks up to him, pinches him on the shoulder, and says, “Get your quiznak together.”
And Lance grumbles, “Yeesh, woman. Alright,” and forces himself to walk over to Keith, who is spinning some hugely exaggerated story to Nadia and Sylvio.
“Children,” Lance says when Keith finally takes a breath, “Tío Lance has to talk to Keith about boring adult things. Go harass your Tío Marco, it will be fun.”
“Quieres tiempo a solas con tu nooooooovioooooo,” the twins singsong in unison, and then run away cackling. Lance flushes bright red and considers pelting strawberries at them like the little shits deserve.
“What was that?” Keith asks, bewildered.
“Probable cause,” Lance mutters darkly.
Keith snorts. “Please don’t murder your niblings.”
“That’ll be my gift to you. Not committing homicide on your birthday.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Well, not really.”
Keith raises his eyebrows. “You mean…” He gestures vaguely at everything. “This isn’t already my gift?”
Lance shrugs.
“Lance, come on! This is more than enough. It must have taken you weeks to prepare.” He shakes his head, looking at Lance with soft, kind eyes. “You always do so much for me.”
Lance shudders, weak under Keith’s gaze.
“I like to.” He pauses. “I miss you. Always. It — fills the time, to do things for you.”
Keith reaches up and brushes some sand from Lance’s hair. He lingers, after, tracing his fingers along the shell of his ear, resting his hand against Lance’s neck. Lance closes his eyes, leaning into it, letting himself have this affection he’s craved like nothing else for months.
“I miss you, too. Constantly. Sometimes you’re all I think about, up there.” He sighs, and Lance can hear the tired, enticing smile on his face. “Wish you were watching my back again, Sharpshooter. No one else does it quite like you.”
Lance forces his eyes open again, although he can’t bring himself to meet Keith’s eyes. He traces the crooked line of his nose, instead, the tilt of his thick brows.
“You going back tonight?”
“Nah, I’ll stay a couple days. I’ve got nothing pressing for another week.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him, chants the Allura that lives in his head.
Give me a goddamn second, he snaps back at it.
“Uh, Allura and I have been. Working. On a project.”
Keith tilts his head. “Oh?”
“Yeah, she’s here a lot. Obviously.” He gestures to his Altean marks, which he has just remembered are uncovered. He’s fine — all systems are running and he is a-okay. But his situation was a little different than Shiro’s. A little more Frankenstein. Lance depends on quintessence heavier than anyone else — he’s probably fine to make his own and live his life, but…he’s always struggled with depression. And Allura worries. So she wormholes to Earth regularly to hang out and make sure he’s not too low.
They have a lot of time to scheme, the Blue Paladins of Voltron.
“Obviously,” Keith agrees. Unlike everyone else, he doesn’t avoid looking at his marks; doesn’t wince when he’s reminded of them. The only change in his eyes is a look of determination, a renewed intensity in which he watches Lance. It’s a little bit intoxicating.
“I love Earth,” Lance says quietly. “It will always be my home. I will always want to come back here. I want to die here.” He finally meets Keith’s eyes. “But.”
Keith’s eyes are wide. The hand still resting on the curve of Lance’s neck twitches, slightly.
“But?” he asks, breathless.
“I’ve been helping her organize plans for a castleship. A little smaller than the old one, but — you know. Similar. It’s something to do. I’ll feel better knowing you guys are together, up there, fighting as a team together. There’s the Atlas, but it’s not the same. It’s not Voltron.”
“Oh.” Some of the excitement dims from Keith’s expression, although he takes great care to keep the smile firmly on his face. “That’s great, Lance. I miss the castle too. It’ll be a little more stable, and missions will —”
“And I’m coming with you,” Lance blurts.
Keith freezes.
“To space. Permanently. Um, mostly. I still want to come back to Earth and see my mom and everybody but you know. I miss everybody. I’m lonely. And being a farmer is actually super duper boring. No offense to farmers, but I want to shoot shit again. I even miss training, which is crazy, because I hate training —”
“Lance,” Keith says, and Lance says “Yeah?” and then he’s being pulled forward and Keith’s other hand comes to rest on his hip and he is being kissed.
“Oh,” he breathes, eyes fluttering shut and words fading from his brain. His hands slide into Keith’s hair without his conscious thought, and he tilts his head and lets Keith devour him as the butterflies storm in his stomach and kisses Keith back like he will get all the breath he needs from Keith’s lungs. His head spins and his knees go weak and Keith smells like pine and sandalwood and his lips are chapped and his hands are calloused and it’s the most wonderfully strange mix of foreign and familiar, bexause Lance knows all these things, but he has never known them in this way.
“Finally!” someone shouts, and soon there are wolf whistles and catcalls and Keith’s smile is pressed against his and Lance can feel the press of his crooked incisors against his bottom lip and he could live off the sensation.
“Happy birthday,” he whispers, half-drowned out by the noise of their teasing friends.
“Exactly as I wished it to be,” Keith whispers back, and then kisses him again and again and again.
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velarisnightsky444 · 1 month
Text
Scorched Shadows: Part 8
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Eris x AzrielsSister!Reader
Summary: Y/N is the younger sister of Azriel. She has shadows just like him, and is also a spymaster for Rhys. When she meets Eris, she initially hates him, but after a bargain is made between them, things begin heating up.
cw: smut, intercourse
Series Masterlist
Part 7 || Part 9
»»————- ♔ ————-««
Year 5
A year had come and gone, and you were still stuck under the mountain.
You rarely saw Rhys, and it was even more rare that you found yourself able to speak with him. He spoke into your mind at times, telling you when it was safe for you to seek him out.
Because of Rhysand's unique position, he was able to keep you safe. Without him, Amarantha might've already ripped your wings off of your body simply for her own entertainment. She chose a person to torture each night, the decision usually random.
You felt guilty about the things Rhysand was doing to protect you. You knew it wasn't just for you; he was also protecting your family and your city. But you still hated what he had to do.
The only other person you allowed yourself to speak with was Eris. The two of you found each other almost every night, a way to relieve your stress and anxieties.
You told yourself it was simply a distraction, and that it would never have happened if the circumstances were different.
The only time you really saw Rhys was during the parties Amarantha threw every night. And while it was hard for you to stomach watching her torture some innocent soul, it was worth it to see your brother.
You were wearing a short black dress, one that clung to your curves. You weren't used to wearing such revealing clothing, but it seemed most did when attending her parties.
A hand wrapped around your wrist, and you couldn't quiet the slight squeal that left your lips as you were dragged into an empty room off of the corridor.
You were pinned to the wall by a strong figure, one that had become far too familiar for your liking.
Eris's lips met your neck, his kisses hungry and rough. He lazily threw up a ward with his hand, ensuring that nobody could walk in, or hear you.
You whimpered as you bit your neck, his tongue soothing it over. He hummed against your neck in approval of the sounds leaving your lips. He loved when you made noise for him.
His hand gripped at your underwear, yanking them down, and you unbuckled his pants, pulling him out.
"Hands above your head," he instructed.
You lifted your arms up, and he pinned them against the wall with one hand.
He took his cock in his other hands, dragging it up and down your folds. You moaned, resting your head against the wall.
"Please, Eris," you whispered, desperate for him to be inside of you.
He sunk into you, and you let out a guttural moan. A soft chuckle left his lips as he pressed his forehead against yours.
His hand gripped your rear, lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, his body holding you against the wall.
A loud whine left your lips as he fucked you deeper. Your wing twitched at the feeling, hitting him in the head.
"Ow," he muttered, wincing, though he didn't stop his pace.
"Didn't mean to," you assured him, barely able to get the words out.
Eris let go of your wrists, allowing you to place your hands on his shoulders. He began rubbing your clit, knowing you couldn't get off without that. You hated how well he'd gotten to know you body.
"Harder," you pleaded.
"You are insatiable," he scoffed, but obliged. You only mewled, biting down on his shoulder to muffle your sounds.
You pressed your wings against the wall, and Eris delivered a particularly hard thrust that had you crying out.
"Gods, Eris, I'm so close!" you exclaimed, your grip on him tightening.
"You'll hold it until I cum," he said.
You whined, but obeyed. Over the last year, you discovered that obeying him was always the best decision if you wanted to cum.
Eris stopped rubbing your clit, which made it easier. He delivered a harsh smack to your rear, which made you squeak. But you could tell by the way his cock was twitching inside of you, he was about to finish.
"Cum in me, Eris," you begged, squeezing your eyes shut.
He released inside of you with grunt, and your pleasure immediately followed. Your whines and moans filled the room. Eris delivered one last thrust before pulling out of you.
"My hair is ruined," you complained as he set you back on the ground.
You tugged your underwear back up, smoothing down your dress as he buckled his pants back up. You began combing your fingers through your hair.
"I'm going to smell like you now," you grumbled. "And if I talk to Rhys--"
"You should've thought of all this before you let me fuck you," he chuckled. "But here." He waved a hand. "My scent is gone."
You didn't bother thanking him. You just turned on your heel, leaving him alone.
As you walked into the throne room, the sound of gut-wrenching screams filled the air. You winced, pouring yourself a glass of wine.
Today's victim was a young male, who looked like he was from the Dawn Court. He had wings, like yours, but feathered.
Amarantha had him tied up on his stomach, a wicked smile on her face as she plucked the feathers from his wings. You shuddered, hoping that his wings weren't as sensitive as your own. You couldn't imagine how intense the pain was.
"Don't think about it too much," Rhysand said into your hair.
You glanced up, seeing him standing beside Amarantha's vacated throne. His face was a mask of unphased boredom, but as he entered your mind, you could feel the disgust and fury that filled him.
"Are you okay?" you asked him. "I haven't been able to speak to you in a month."
"I will be fine," he said to me. "Have you stayed out of trouble?"
"Yes," you lied.
You could never tell him what trouble you'd gotten yourself into with Eris Vanserra.
"Knowing you, I don't believe that for a second," he mused.
You snorted, taking another sip of your wine, and trying to drown out the screams.
"I miss you," I admitted quietly.
"I miss you, too, YN."
»»————- ♔ ————-««
Scorched Shadows Taglist: @the-sweet-psycho @hnyclover @lilyevansstudygroup @esposadomd@fxckmiup@lilah-asteria@a-court-of-mischief-and-madness@sourapplex @when-you-cant-think-of-anything @i-know-i-can @mp-littlebit
Eris Taglist:
Comment to be added to the Scorched Shadows or Eris taglists!
»»————- ♔ ————-««
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mylifesjustacarousel · 2 months
Text
the sorcerer and the apprentice - prequel
pairing: james hook x gn!reader (requested)
summary: you’re the child of merlin, and there is no one you despise more than james hook. but feelings are changed when a prank gets played.
type: angst, a bit of teasing
CW: bullying
WC: 700
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
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There were definitely ups and downs to being the child of Merlin, the principal and founder of Merlin Academy. But, right at the moment, there were definitely more downs. You were very content with your life. You got to connect with your father and expand your craft while living on the beautiful campus that he had worked so hard for… and then there were the VKs.
The VKs, also known as the Villain Kids, were a nasty group of kids. They were run by Uliana, the younger sister of the infamous Ursula. She harassed anyone who even looked in her direction, trying to prove that she could be more than Ursula ever was. The group was comprised of four other members; Maleficent, Hades, Morgie le Fay… and James Hook.
You hated James Hook.
The way he teased you, the way he taunted you. If you hadn’t any self control, you would’ve turned him into a frog the first time you had even met him. He was cruel and mean, and you couldn’t imagine how anyone would ever want to be friends with someone like him.
Up, down, swish, and flick, you thought to yourself as you waved your wand. You were sat in the courtyard, peacefully practicing your magic by yourself. Well, at least you were peacefully practicing your magic by yourself. “Hello there, darling!” a voice came from behind you, snatching your wand out of your hand. You turned around immediately, your face red with pure anger.
The VKs were all standing there, Hook dangling your wand in front of your face with a laugh before handing it over to Uliana. You stood up, wiping the dirt off of your knees, “Give it back, Uliana!” You reached for the wand, but she held it higher than you could reach with her tentacle.
“Give it back, Uliana!” she mocked, the VKs all laughing and snickering behind her, “What’re you gonna do, goody two shoes? Run off and tell daddy?” One of her tentacles wrapped around your ankle, pulling your feet out from under you as you came crashing onto the ground. “You’re spineless, you’re weak. I could crush you in a minute.” she spat, throwing your wand at you with a dark laugh before she started to walk away with the rest of the VKs.
I’ll show her spineless, you thought.
You quickly shuffled onto your feet, gripping your wand in your hand. Up, down, swish, and flick. Uliana yelled, being practically knocked onto the floor. When she rose, she was covered in what looked like porcupine quills. Spines. The rest of the VKs backed away from her, not wanting to get pricked. You giggled, “I might be spineless, but now you’re full of them.”
Hooks eyes were burning a hole through your soul, but not in the way that they usually did. No, this was different. His eyes seemed angry, but there was an impressed grin slowly making way into his face. He didn’t think you were capable of something like that, and it intrigued him more than anything.
“I will destroy you!” Uliana screamed, beginning to charge at you. Hook stopped her, putting his hooked hand out in front of her, “No, I think I’ll actually take care of this one.” Morgie reached to put a hand on Uliana’s shoulder, wincing as a quill got stuck in his hand. Uliana huffed, stomping away with the rest of the VKs, leaving you there with Hook.
You grimaced as Hook walked towards you, the same grin still on his face. “I’m quite impressed, darling,” He hooked the tip of his hook under your chin, “Maybe you could teach me how to do that.”
Blushing, you grabbed his hook and yanked it away from your face. “Wasn’t to impress you, Hook. I don’t even want you in my life, and I definitely don’t want to teach you how to do anything.” you spat. He snorted quietly to himself, “Oh, you’ll come around, darling.”
“Never. Get lost, Hook.” you mumbled, sitting back down with your wand and your spell book. He started to walk away before turning back to you.
“I’ll see you around, y/n. Can’t get rid of me that easily.”
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a/n: i hope you enjoyed, sorry it’s a little short! if you have any requests, my ask box is open! <3
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justice4billiam · 2 months
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So I know everyone's always talking about nsfw with Billy and that's great but what if a girl just wanted to be his bsf? She (forcefully) move dhim in with her and she gets him Christmas presents, and she bakes and cooks for him and just loves him like soulmates, but not romantically??? You think he'd like this???
Now that I've dumped my Brain on you hi I'm Lillie <3 you don't have tow rite this tysm!
Billy Hargrove x PlatonicFem!reader
Word count: 6,083
Warnings: Nothing too bad. Just Billy being Billy. So, cussing but maybe even a little less of himself actually.
Author’s Note: GURL, I am so sorry. I held onto this for SO long and I didn't mean for it to be over 6k words lmao I am so hard on myself when it comes to writing but I decided to just let it free. Nice to meet you, Lillie. ❤️ I hope you like it.
Platonic Soul...Whatever
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“Get in here,” you snapped, yanking your best friend into the living room by the scruff of his jacket.
He’d been holed up in the spare room, hiding out like an antisocial pussycat.
Billy huffed, his eyes rolling, clearly pissed at the night you’d planned. But he kept his mouth shut, letting you drag him in without a fight.
You were in the middle of having a housewarming party for the new apartment you moved into last week and the whole gang was there much to Billy’s dismay.
“What’s going on?” you asked, keeping your voice low to keep it just between you two.
Billy was always weird at the get togethers, but he had been getting better at it. Friendly even. But today he was different. Something was eating at him, and it was worrying you.
“And don’t give me ‘nothing.’ I’m not dumb.” You shot him a look that meant business.
He scrunched up his face, lips pressed tight, and looked at you like he was weighing his words.
“It’s nothing,” he said at last. “Just… the usual crap back home.” He shuffled his feet, looking anywhere but at you.
“Billy…did he—” you started, your eyes scanning him for any sign of trouble.
He shook his head quickly.
“No, not this time. But I gotta head out early tonight, okay?” His blue eyes were hard when he looked at you.
To anyone else, it might look like anger, but you knew it was something else. Sadness. And it looked all kinds of wrong on him.
You wanted to dig deeper, but now wasn’t the time, not with everyone else around.
You gave him another once-over, didn’t see any harm, and nodded.
“Alright, Hargrove.”
He let out a sigh of relief, probably glad he didn’t have to spill it all.
You noticed his hand twitch toward his pocket, then drop. He remembered the no-smoking rule in your place. You couldn’t help but smile.
“Alright,” you said, fixing his jacket and giving him a pat.
“Go have your smoke. When you’re ready, come back in.” You winked, letting him know it was cool.
Billy’s head shake was subtle, his face drawn tight. “But, its colder than balls out there.”
It was early December, and the chill was just setting in—nothing compared to what was coming. But Billy always had a thing against the cold. You almost laughed, suddenly thinking back to last winter when he’d ended up ass-first in a snowbank outside your old place.
The guy never gave a damn about rules, but here he was, actually listening to you for once.
You sighed, half-exasperated, half-resigned.
“Fine, light up in the spare room, but for God’s sake, open the damn window.”
He gave a snort, that smug look taking over.
“Cheers, darlin’. The fine women of Hawkins will be singing your praises for saving my… assets from frostbite.”
Classic Billy, always with a line.
“Ewe, dramatic much?” you muttered, rolling your eyes as you headed for the kitchen.
————
As it grew late, the place began to clear out. Nancy and Jonathan, along with their group, were among the first to leave.
You couldn’t help but feel an excitement for Nancy and Jonathan—they’d just spilled they were heading to Emerson College in Boston after the summer.
Nancy’s grip was firm, her eyes like deep pools in the dim light.
“You sure you won’t come with?” she pressed, searching your face for a sign.
Jonathan was all half-smiles and shrugs as he stepped up beside her.
“We could hide you in a suitcase,” he joked, his arm finding its home around Nancy’s shoulders.
You let out a laugh, a short, sharp sound.
“I’ll stick to my own bed, but thanks,” you shot back, catching Billy’s eye for a moment. He was leaning against the wall, a silent lookout.
You weren’t about to ditch without Billy. He was anchored here until Max was done with high school.
That was the unspoken rule between you two. Max was in the dark, but you and Billy had spent a night diving deep into that conversation—his fears of leaving her to deal with Neil alone.
Billy and Max’s relationship had gotten better since that October at the Byers’.
They still snapped at each other like firecrackers, but that was just their way. You’d grown to love having them around.
Max was like the scrappy little sister you’d picked up along the way.
But Billy was different.
He was your solid ground, your constant. You didn’t need to spell things out for him; he just got it. He could dial down your stress with a glance, and you could temper his anger without a word.
It reminded you of something you’d read in a dog-eared book that you checked out from the library: platonic soulmates.
That was the label for what you had with Billy—no bullshit, no fuss, just an unspoken understanding that ran deep.
Billy scoffed at the soulmate idea, brushing it off as a load of crap. But when the book you’d been quoting mysteriously disappeared after that heart-to-heart, you didn’t need three guesses to know who’d snagged it. You let it slide, settling the library fine without a word. It was a small price to pay for the bond you shared with your so-called platonic soulmate.
“The offer’s open,” Nancy reiterated, her voice trailing off as she and the others made their way out.
Mike and Will managed half-hearted waves from the doorway, while El gave you a tight squeeze around the waist before moving on to Billy.
He tensed up, his eyes darting to you in a silent plea for rescue as El’s arms wrapped around him.
You stifled a chuckle. El was the only one brave enough to tackle Billy with affection.
Maybe it was her history with real monsters that made Billy’s temper seem trivial. Or perhaps it was her upbringing with Hopper, another man known for his temperament.
Billy cleared his throat, a hint of discomfort in his voice.
“Okay, don’t need all that,” he mumbled, gently disentangling himself from El’s embrace and stepping back.
His expression grew even more puzzled when El simply beamed at him.
Max stepped in, her arm around El, guiding her towards the door.
"Yeah, El, don't you know?" Max exclaimed, looking over her shoulder at Billy, mischief twinkling in her eyes.
"He's like the Grinch or whatever." She continued, her hands waving about as they walked to the front door.
"He doesn't want to be hugged and cared for because his heart will grow too big for his body, and if you haven't noticed, he already has to worry about falling over with all that hair on top of his head." Her smirk was infectious.
Billy shot Max a flat, unamused look, but you and Mike couldn’t contain your snorts of laughter, which you tried to mask with a cough as Billy’s gaze turned to you.
El, puzzled, studied Billy’s unruly mane and then glanced at Steve’s voluminous hair in the kitchen.
“I don’t see any problem,” she commented innocently.
‘If anyone should be worried, I think Steve would fall over first.’ She glanced between Max, Mike, and you, her eyes wide with uncertainty.
You rolled your eyes as you watched Billy smile smugly as Steve turned toward them upon hearing his name.
Steve looked over, his eyebrow raised in question.
“What’s this about my hair?” he asked, his hand automatically fluffing his locks.
Mike, clearly over the day, rolled his eyes.
“Let’s go, El,” he said, taking her hand and leading her out after the others.
“See ya,” Will murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he followed behind, giving a small wave to the remaining group before disappearing into the night.
You caught a glimpse of his downcast eyes and wondered what could have made him so down.
Steve exhaled a weary breath, the kind that’s been through too many late nights and too early mornings. “Gotta head out,” he said, a half-hearted grin on his face. “New job at the Hunting & Camping store starts tomorrow morning.”
Your eyes narrowed, a quick glance thrown to Steve, then to Robin, who was playing cards at the kitchen table with Lucas and Dustin.
“What about Family Video?” you asked, your voice edged with a hint of suspicion, but it was Robin you were counting on for the truth.
You also worked at Family Video, but whispers of Steve quitting hadn’t reached your ears.
The thought alone was enough to unsettle you. Work with him was one of the few highlights in a job that could often be boring. You really hoped he wasn’t; you genuinely enjoyed working with your two close friends.
Robin didn’t even look up from her cards.
“Don’t worry, he’s still with us,” she called out, her voice steady over the clatter of the game.
“Royal flush!” She stood up, her shout a victory cry.
“Deal with it, boys!” she taunted, pointing at the boys who just shook their heads in defeat.
Lucas was all frustration and disbelief.
“How does she always pull this off?” he muttered, throwing his hands up in surrender.
Dustin’s chair scraped loudly as he stood, his face a mix of annoyance and admiration.
“She’s got some kind of magic or she’s cheating!” he accused, his finger jabbing in Robin’s direction.
Robin’s laugh was sharp and bright.
“I’m not cheating,” she shot back, her hands on her hips, her stance all defiance. “It’s just you two dinguses can’t play.”
A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth.
“Take it easy, you three,” you said, the sarcasm dripping from every word.
You turned back to Steve, your expression softening just a bit.
“Two jobs, huh?” you said, the tease clear in your voice. “Looks like Harrington’s playing the adult card now.”
Steve’s smile was a blend of resignation and a challenge.
“Dad’s cut me off,” he admitted, a hard edge to his voice. “All about ‘earning my keep’ now. So, I’m doing it my way.”
You nodded, feeling that familiar tug of empathy.
Your own parents had given you the boot when you ditched the college route. They couldn’t wrap their heads around why you’d stick around this nowhere town.
Your fingers twisted together, the old sting of ‘failure’ creeping back up. But then there was Billy, his hand finding yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was his silent way of saying, “We’ve got this.”
You looked up, catching Billy’s eyes. They were a clear, steady blue, like the sky after a storm. His smile was quick, a silent conversation passing between you two without a word.
“Well, anyway…” Steve’s voice broke through as everyone started to pick up their stuff.
The goodbyes were thrown around, even Billy’s nod to Steve was surprisingly chill, a small sign that maybe, just maybe, there was some common ground to be found. You clung to that hope, that small nod, as the night came to an end.
After the rest left through the front door, you caught Steve’s arm before he could leave.
“Hey, I gotta tell you, I’m really proud of you,” you said, your voice carrying the weight of genuine respect.
“It’s tough, starting new,” you added, a glance at the nearly empty space to signify you really did get it.
Steve’s smile was quick and sincere.
“Thanks, Y/n. Means a lot, you know? And hey, we’re overdue for that movie night,” he suggested with a playful wink, pulling his jacket closer as a cold draft slipped through the open door.
Your eyes fell on the new TV, with its built-in VHS player—Steve’s housewarming gift to you.
It was a generous thought, but it felt like too much. You’d insisted he take it back, but the bulky set remained, a silent testament to Steve’s stubbornness. He’d assured you it was no big deal, that it was better off here, getting some use.
You acknowledged his gesture with a nod, your face stoic but your eyes hinting at a silent vow to make the most of his gift with endless movie nights.
As Steve’s grin widened, he stepped out into the night, his laughter blending with the voices of Robin, Dustin, and Lucas as they disappeared down the street. You watched from the doorway, the figures of your friends growing smaller in the distance.
Billy’s voice cut in from behind, a dismissive edge to his tone. “Count me out for movie night.”
You turned, a smirk playing on your lips.
“Too bad, Billy,” you retorted, the playful challenge clear in your voice. “You’re coming, whether you like it or not.”
He was about to argue when Max’s anxious voice interrupted.
“We should go too,” she said, her eyes darting around, signaling something was wrong.
A wave of concern washed over you.
“What’s the rush?” you asked, your voice laced with worry. “It’s not even eight.”
Billy’s curfew was a constant shadow, ten o’clock sharp, a little later if Max was with him. You knew the rules too well, had seen the consequences on his skin—bruises and cuts he’d dismiss with a hollow laugh.
But there was that one night, the truth spilling out in the dark, his voice a low rumble at your window. “My dad,” he’d said, the words heavy with unspoken pain.
“Max, get your coat,” Billy’s voice was tight as he flung the door open again. He pulled out his cigarettes, his movements tense.
His hands shook as he tried to light one, and you stepped in, your hand steady, lighting it for him.
“Billy,” you said, your voice low, “everything alright?”
He glanced away, then back at you, a forced smirk on his face.
“Just gotta be home early,” he lied, smoke trailing from his lips.
You nodded, the unspoken words hanging heavy.
“If you need anything…”
He gave a small nod, a silent understanding.
“I know. See you later,” he said, and then he was gone, his figure blending into the night, Max following close behind.
You closed the door, the silence of the apartment heavy around you.
In the quiet, you made a silent vow to always be there for Billy, to stand by him as you had that night he confessed. It was a promise made without words, one you intended to keep.
————
The clock’s red glare read 1:27 a.m., the only light in the otherwise dark room.
The soft creak of the door was like a whisper, but it jolted you awake.
Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you sat up, squinting into the darkness.
The light from the hallway cut a sharp outline around a familiar figure—Billy, the only other person with a key to your place.
“Billy?” Your voice was thick, still wrapped in the remnants of sleep.
As your hand reached out for the lamp, his figure moved closer, a shadow in the half-light.
“Don’t,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, and his hand was on yours, guiding it away from the lamp. His touch was cold, sending a shiver up your arm.
“Are you okay?” The words were barely a whisper, concern threading through them as you climbed out of bed, reaching into the darkness towards him.
He sniffed, a sound so faint you might have missed it if the room wasn’t so deathly quiet.
“I’m…” he started, his voice barely there, then clearer, “No.” It was a stark admission, cutting through the silence.
“Oh, Bill…” you breathed out, your arms finding their way around his rigid form. Your hands rested gently on his neck, and you felt him lean into the embrace, his own arms wrapping around you.
A shuddering breath escaped him, betraying the facade of control he always tried to maintain. His head rested heavily on your shoulder, and you could feel the tension in his body beginning to unravel.
The silence was broken only by his occasional shivers, and you felt the dampness on your shirt where his tears had soaked through.
“We’ll get this sorted,” you said, trying to infuse your voice with confidence as you reached out to touch his cheek.
But he pulled back sharply, a quick intake of breath hissing through clenched teeth.
You flicked on the light, and the room was suddenly too bright, too real.
The sight made you pause—a large, open cut above his eye, blood running down, sticking to his lashes, pooling around his now swollen-shut eye.
He raised his hand, a silent plea for patience.
“It looks worse than it actually is,” he insisted, his voice strained. You noticed his lip, swollen and split, distorting his words.
You stood there, the gravity of the situation sinking in.
This was more than just a late-night visit; it was a cry for help. And you were determined to answer it.
“Let’s clean you up,” you said firmly, ready to do whatever it took to help your friend.
“We’ll figure out the rest after.” The promise was unspoken but as solid as the ground beneath your feet. You were in this together, no matter what.
Billy’s nod, small and pained, told you he understood.
After the long, meticulous process of cleaning him up with the first aid kit, the two of you now sat at the dining table, the silence filled with the soft clinks of the kit being put away.
The tension had eased somewhat, replaced by the quiet understanding that always seemed to exist between you two.
Billy’s face, now cleaned of blood, showed the stark reality of his life at home, but here, in the safety of your apartment, he allowed himself a moment of vulnerability.
You were just about to speak when an urgent knocking on your door cut through the stillness.
You exchanged a puzzled look with him before you got up to answer it, Billy close behind you as you did.
Max stood there, her eyes wide with concern.
“I had to make sure he was okay,” she said, her voice trembling slightly.
Billy’s expression hardened for a moment.
“What the hell are you doing out so late, Max?” he asked, his tone a mix of anger and concern.
Max’s gaze flickered to you before settling back on Billy.
“I couldn’t sleep not knowing if you were… if you were safe,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
You stepped aside, letting her in, and she moved directly to Billy, her small hand reaching out to touch his arm gently.
Billy’s initial irritation faded as he looked at his sister, his eyes softening.
“I’m here, I’m okay,” he reassured her, his voice more gentle than you’d heard in a long time.
The three of you sat around the table, a makeshift family in the middle of the night, bound together.
You watched them, the siblings who had been through so much, and felt a fierce protectiveness rise within you.
“We’re going to figure this out,” you said, your voice firm, catching both their gazes. “Billy’s staying here now. He’s not going back to that house.”
Max’s eyes filled with tears, but she nodded, a look of relief passing over her face.
Billy just sat there, his eyes on the tabletop, his jaw clenched.
You knew he was wrestling with the decision, the weight of years of abuse and control not something he could shrug off easily.
But you also knew that this was the only way forward.
“You’re safe here, Billy. This is your home now,” you said, reaching across the table to place your hand over his. “We’re in this together.”
Billy looked up, his blue eyes meeting yours, and in them, you saw the flicker of hope that had been absent for so long.
He nodded, a silent acceptance of the new reality.
Max stayed for a while longer, until her eyes grew heavy with sleep, and you set up the couch for her to crash on.
As you turned off the lights and headed back to your room, Billy followed.
The room was silent, the kind of quiet that feels heavy, almost tangible.
Billy lay beside you, his body a rigid line of tension and unspoken pain. The darkness seemed to press in closer as he hesitated, then spoke into the void between you.
“Are you sure about this?” His voice was a low rumble, barely more than a breath. “Me living here… and Max. What if something happens when I’m not there?”
The question hung in the air, and for a moment, you let the silence answer. You thought about the weight of his words, the gravity of the decision he was facing. It wasn’t just about him; it was about Max, too, about breaking away from the life he knew, no matter how broken it was.
“I’m sure,” you finally said, your voice a soft but firm counterpoint to the darkness. “You can’t keep putting yourself through hell. And Max… she’s safer with us than she is in that house.”
He was silent, and you imagined you could hear the cogs turning in his head, weighing your words against his own fears and doubts.
“And what about Neil?” His question was a whisper, but it might as well have been a shout in the stillness of the room.
You took a deep breath, feeling the resolve settle in your bones.
“We’ll deal with Neil if we have to. But you… you need to be safe first. We both know if you stay there, it’s only going to get worse.”
Billy shifted beside you, a rustle of movement in the dark. “I just… I don’t want to leave her alone with him.”
“Max won’t be alone. She’s got us, and she’s got you. And she’s always welcome here, anytime. This place is as much a home for her as it is for you.”
There was a long pause, and you felt the moment stretch out, a bridge spanning the gap between fear and hope.
“Okay,” he said at last, the word a small surrender to the inevitable. “Okay.”
You reached out, finding his hand in the darkness, and squeezed it. It was a promise, a vow made without words, that you’d stand by him, come what may.
The night deepened around you, but in that shared silence, a new understanding was forged. You and Billy, against whatever the world might throw your way. Together. And that was enough. For now, it had to be.
————
Your apartment was filled with holiday atmosphere, the first true place you both made your own. The smell of pine mixed with the smell of pasta sauce that was cooking, a new recipe you were trying out in hopes it would become an annual thing.
Christmas was right around the corner, and the excitement was as heavy as the garland hanging on the walls.
Billy was due back any minute from his second job at the auto shop, a position he’d taken up since moving in. The days were long, and the work was hard, but Billy told you he enjoyed the job. That was all that mattered, you supposed.
You had the day off and had spent it transforming the apartment to feel more festive.
Billy’s arrival was indicated by the sound of the door swinging open, his frame filling the entryway as he stepped in from the cold. His eyes scanned the room, taking in the festive transformation with a raised eyebrow.
“You’ve been busy,” he said, a smirk playing on his lips as he shrugged off his jacket, revealing the smudges of grease on his forearms.
“Yeah, but I left the tree for us to do,” you said, gesturing towards the undecorated tree standing in the corner.
He grunted in acknowledgment, a sound that was almost a laugh, and headed for the shower, leaving heavy footprints in his wake. You seized the moment to call Max, knowing she’d jump at the chance to join in.
When we finally sat down for dinner, the table was like a little patch of food surrounded by all the crazy decorations.
Billy’s first bite was met with a nod of approval.
“This is way better than Susan’s cooking,” he declared, the corners of his mouth turning up as he chewed.
Max chimed in, her voice muffled by a mouthful of pasta, “Yeah, beats the hell out of it.”
“If you keep cooking like this, I’m gonna end up fat,” Billy joked, patting his stomach, though his tone suggested he wouldn’t mind that outcome.
“That’s what the exercise equipment’s for,” you quipped, pointing towards the hulking mass of different metals that dominated half the living room.
When Billy first lugged his gym gear into the apartment, neither of you had really thought through where all of it would go.
The living room quickly became a makeshift gym, with dumbbells, a bench, a barbell, and weight plates claiming their spots among the furniture. It was a bit of a mess, but it was a lived-in mess, a sign of life happening in real-time.
You didn’t mind, though. In fact, you found a certain charm in the chaos. With the holidays approaching, you got creative, weaving tinsel and garland through the iron grips of the weights and draping festive cheer over the cold steel of the barbell. It was an odd juxtaposition, sure, but it worked. The living room was transformed into a space that was uniquely ‘you and Billy’—a little rough around the edges, but full of heart.
After dinner, the three of you approached the tree. Billy picked up an ornament, examining it with a critical eye before hanging it on a sturdy branch.
“Never had much use for these things,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of nostalgia he’d never admit to.
Max laughed, reaching for a trinket. “Come on, it’s not so bad. Looks good, even.���
The evening wore on, filled with the clinking of ornaments and the occasional deep chuckle from Billy as he recounted stories from last year’s Christmas you all celebrated together then too.
You noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at the tree, the way his rough exterior gave way to a quiet appreciation for the moment.
It was a simple night, but it was laced with the promise of many more to come.
As you all stepped back to admire the now-decorated tree, Billy’s arm brushed against yours, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience.
“Not bad for our first tree,” he said, and you could hear the unspoken thanks in his voice.
————
The oven’s chime signaled the cookies were ready, a sweet aroma mingling with the crisp winter air that Billy let in each time he cracked the door for a smoke.
He stood in the doorway, a barbell in hand, half-watching the MTV countdown, half-engrossed in his workout.
“You’re letting in a draft,” you said, pulling the cookies out and setting them on the stove.
Billy took a drag from his cigarette, the smoke swirling around him. “Well, if someone would let me smoke inside…”
With a playful roll of your eyes, you walked over to him.
“You know the rules,” you reminded him, standing close enough to feel the cold air he was letting in. “Besides, I don’t want our cookies tasting like smoke.”
He chuckled, the sound deep and warm.
“Wouldn’t want that,” he mockingly conceded, taking one last drag before you nudged him out the door with a laugh, quickly shutting it behind him to keep the warmth in.
You darted away, but Billy was quick, shoving the door open and dropping the barbell with a thud as he chased after you.
His laughter mixed with yours as you ran down the hallway, the playful chase a familiar dance between you two.
You ducked into his room, thinking you’d won, but a misstep had you tripping over something unexpected. Both of you tumbled to the floor, a mess of limbs and uncontrollable laughter.
“Clutz,” Billy teased, but there was no heat in it, just the warm humor that had become a staple of your interactions.
“It’s not my fault, it’s this—” you protested, sitting up to see what had tripped you. In your hand was the missing book, Platonic Soulmates. You turned to him with a triumphant smirk.
“I knew it!” you exclaimed. “You did take it!”
Billy scoffed, trying to maintain his innocent facade.
“Must’ve gotten mixed up with your stuff,” he said, but the sheepish look in his eyes betrayed him.
You shook your head, the smile on your face impossible to contain. Billy sighed, rolling his eyes in mock annoyance.
“Alright, maybe… maybe we’re like platonic… soul… whatever,” he grumbled, finally admitting to the bond you both knew was there.
The laughter had died down, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. You both lay on the floor, the carpet’s coarse fibers imprinting on your skin.
Billy stretched out beside you, his presence a solid comfort as you both stared at the ceiling, lost in thought.
The world outside seemed to fade into insignificance, leaving just the two of you in a bubble of tranquility. It was a rare moment of stillness for Billy.
Then, his voice broke the silence, soft yet carrying a weight that filled the room. “Thank you.”
You turned to look at him, surprised by the sincerity in his tone. “For what?” you asked, genuinely curious.
Billy’s voice was gruff, a stark contrast to the softness of the moment.
“Thanks for stickin’ around,” he said, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if he was addressing the room rather than you.
“Seems like everyone’s always after something. Neil… he wanted me to fall in line. People at school just wanted to ride the wave of whatever popularity I had. And the girls, well, they didn’t look much past the surface, did they? But you… you’re different. You never wanted anything but to hang out. That means something. So, yeah… thanks.”
Billy’s words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. They settled around you, heavy with the weight of a life that hadn’t been kind. You felt a surge of something fierce and protective, a sadness for the battles he’d fought alone.
“You don’t owe me thanks, Billy. That’s what friends do,” you said, your voice low and steady, cutting through the emotional fog.
Billy’s gaze met yours, a silent conversation passing between you. His eyes, a clear blue that had seen too much, held a gratitude that was raw and real.
You both took a moment, a silent acknowledgment of the weight of his words. It was a pause that said everything without a single word spoken.
“You’ve got me, no matter what,” you said, the promise as solid as the ground beneath you.
After a deep breath, you stood up, offering Billy a hand.
“Come on, I baked you cookies,” you said, a gentle nudge towards the simplicity of everyday life.
Billy took your hand, rising to his feet.
“Alright,” he conceded, a hint of a smile on his face. He paused, a playful challenge in his eyes.
“So, about smoking in the house—”
“Nope,” you cut him off with a chuckle, already heading to the kitchen. “Not happening, Hargrove.”
He followed, his chuckle a low rumble that filled the room.
“Worth a try,” he said, the mischief still alive in his voice.
————
Christmas morning broke with a spirited truth that no holiday movie could capture.
The apartment was quiet, except for the soft hum of the heater and the distant sounds of the outside world waking up.
You were determined to share this moment with Billy, to give him a taste of something genuine and heartfelt before the chaos of the party preparations began.
You found Billy still buried under his blankets, his room a stubborn sanctuary of everyday life among the holiday transformation of the rest of the apartment.
“Billy, come on. Just one present before we start the day,” you insisted, your voice cutting through the silence as you tugged at his arm.
His response was a gruff murmur, an indication to his dislike to mornings.
After a bit of coaxing, he relented and followed you into the living room, his body language a silent complaint against the cold that greeted his bare skin.
The room was dimly lit by the soft glow of Christmas lights, the tree standing like a flare of the season’s good spirits.
Billy, hair tousled and eyes half-closed, slumped onto the couch, clad only in his red plaid sleep pants.
You joined him, draping a throw blanket over both of you to fend off the chill. Then, with a gentle motion, you placed a small, wrapped gift onto his lap.
He eyed the present with a mix of curiosity and a hint of that guarded look he always had.
“You didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, his voice still rough with sleep.
“Of course I did. You’re my best friend,” you replied, watching as he unwrapped the gift with hands that were more used to handling tools than delicate wrapping paper.
The keychain, a small silver house, caught the light as he held it up. It was a simple thing, but it was heavy with meaning.
“It represents us finding our place. Our home,” you explained, your voice low but clear in the quiet of the room.
Billy was silent for a long moment, the keychain turning slowly in his hand.
“I’ve never really had something like this,” he admitted, his voice a low rumble. “A place that actually feels like home.”
You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you.
“Well, you do now. And we’re going to make sure it’s a damn good one.”
Billy’s smile was a rare sight, his brows furrowing as if he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the softer emotions.
He stood up, the blanket falling to the side, and shuffled out of the room with a gruff, “Hang on.”
You watched, curious and touched, as he disappeared down the hall. Moments later, he returned, something concealed in his hand.
“Got something for you,” he said, his voice rough around the edges.
“What is it?” you asked, leaning forward with interest as he sat down across from you.
“Just… give me your hand,” Billy instructed, his usual brass demeanor faltering slightly.
You complied, placing your hand in his, feeling the calluses on his palm—a testament to his hard work.
“Close your eyes,” he added, a hint of command still in his voice.
You rolled your eyes but did as told, a smile on your face. “Always so dramatic,” you teased.
There was a pause, and then Billy’s voice, softer now, “Alright, open.”
When you opened your eyes, you were met with the sight of a bracelet made of sea glass on your wrist. The colors were a myriad of blues and greens, like the ocean he so loved.
“You made this?” you gasped, your eyes lifting to meet his. He looked back at you, a mix of pride and something similar to vulnerability.
“It’s from that beach in California I told you about,” he explained, his fingers gently turning the bracelet on your wrist.
“That place was my escape, you know? And now, well, you’re kinda like that for me here.”
You sat up, touched by his words and the sentiment behind the gift. “Thank you, Billy. This means a lot.”
He shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching up in a half-smile.
“Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he joked, but you could tell he was pleased.
In response, you reached out and pulled him into a hug, a gesture that spoke volumes more than words ever could. It was a thank you, a promise, and an acknowledgment of everything you’d been through together.
“Now come on, get ready,” you said, standing up and pulling him to his feet. “You’re helping me with the Christmas party food, whether you like it or not.”
Billy grumbled, a mock scowl forming on his face.
“You just like bossing me around,” he said, but there was no real annoyance in his voice, just the comfortable banter that had become the foundation of your friendship.
“Don’t be ungrateful,” you laughed, giving his arm a playful swat.
Billy’s laughter, deep and genuine, filled the room.
It was moments like these that reminded you why being Billy’s friend was worth every second.
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Text
The Case of The Heart's Whisper 18+
Pairing: Pippa Fitz Amobi x Fem Reader
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Summary: You didn't realize having a relationship with Andie Bell would lead you to become Pippa Fitz Amobi's main resource in Andie Bell's complex life. You also didn't expect to fall for the detective, especially since you're still hanging on the girl who broke your heart.
words:6k
Authors Note: I wrote this piece quite a while ago after reading halfway through the first book, for that matter this story includes many inconsistencies and does not follow booklore in terms of storyline or even timelines. What if reader helps pip with the case and ends up falling in love with Pip? but a bit Andie-coded because I just love her. This was just meant as a fun writer's challenge and is meant to be entertaining. Please also keep in mind this was written before I finished the first book.
Warnings: Past Andie x fem reader, angst, fluff, possessive pip if you squint. Mentions of child abuse, toxic parenting, Andie bell haunting everyone from the grave. Dark pip having the ability to bring me to my knees. This story is not suppose to make sense. That’s about it. Steamy but actual smut is not written. Not proof read. Reader is on her last year in school. Being held back a year for therapy. Cussing.
"What was your relationship with Andie Bell?". You gulped, feeling tears start to brim at just the name. Her name. Images of soft blue eyes and Andie's infamous smirk replayed in your mind like a broken record. Bringing back memories you had flushed away, locked away tight.
Under the watchful glare of Pippa Fitz Amobi, you felt your tongue dry against the roof of your mouth. Her words replaying in your mind, 'what was your relationship with Andie Bell?'
It wasn't that easy. You wish you could have gotten up from your seat in the canteen, where pip laid out her voice recorder, her strong willful blue eyes seeming to crawl over your skin, but not in a predatory manner, you couldn't help but notice the way she was staring at you. It made your stomach flip, your eyes burn, it felt all too familiar, the way her eyes were focused on you. With such intensity.
Just like her.
It had been forever since someone had eyed you like that. Five whole years to be exact.
A deep guttural sound boomed you away from your thoughts and your eyes moved to the boy who sat across from you, Ravi singh. His eyes were on you as well, except you couldn't help but feel like he was judging you. Sitting down with his arms crossed and his dark eyes looking into your soul, how were you suppose to tell him that Andie had been interested in you. That she had personally took you aside after you had stumbled upon Sal and Andie in the canteen, Andie with her usual puppy dog eyes directed at Sal. It had hurt, like a sucker punch to the gut.
All the things Andie had said to you during your studying lesson. It all had been lies. Of course you did nothing, only turned back on your heel, book bag in hand. You heard rushed footsteps next and then Andie was behind you. Her force strong and impatient, "y/n wait!! I didn't mean for you to see that". You had halted, burning red eyes and betrayal filling your veins. You turned on the girl, yanking your hand from under her touch.
"My friends were right about you Andie bell. You're nothing but a cruel mean person who will use anyone for your gain! I should have known the minute you came to talk to me that you had no intention of being my friend! Or whatever the hell you were playing at. Do yourself a favor, get  another French tutor. I'm done."
Cue to the next day, when you were making your usual walk to Kilton grammar l, beanie in hand as the chilly English weather had been harsh at that day, numbing your fingers to the bone. Your father never was one for making sure you were comfortable and safe, his job stopped the day you were born. Despite  your rough upbringing you were usually rather optimistic, everyone always said you were a female version of Sal signh. Not exactly what you wanted to hear, but maybe that was why Andie gravitated torward you. You shook your head, Andie Bell was out of your life. And like life, you watched as a silver SUV parked along side you, Andie bell in the front seat, brows furrowed.
"Get in the car you'll freeze to death" she spoke. You only continued walking, defiant. "I prefer the cold air, it makes my immune system stronger".
You didn't expect Andie to park the car, getting out with a grumble and practically tackling you. If you closed your eyes just enough you could still feel Andie's soft fingers ghosting over your cheeks bones, hot breathe against your ear. "I apologize for what I did. It's just...Sal is my best friend. And perhaps I should have broke it off with him, but it's hard. And then you came into the canteen and I panicked, I'm not use to panicking. I-" Andie's blue eyes had remained still, blush on her cheeks. "I like you y/n. Like a lot. It wasn't suppose to happen at first I really did need help with my French, but then I started noticing things about you. Like how you're always so sweet to others, how you mumble when you're nervous. Or how no matter how much your dad makes you unhappy, you always seem to be shining. Why is that? Is there some sort of secret?".
You remember feeling like you were in the twilight zone. Andie bell was a popular girl, a popular girl with a cruel heart, one who enjoyed hurting others. And yet here she was, helping you up and dusting your trousers. Her eyes warm and soft. Why she liked you, you didn't know. But you wanted to know why.
Needless to say how were you suppose to sit and say that Andie bell had liked you, not to Ravi Singh , that would just make him hate you more. And perhaps you felt guilty. Because his brother had died for Andie bell. And she had been playing games with you.
A soft brush of fingers against your hand made you turn back to the girl, in an act of utter coincidence or an act of kindness, you weren't sure which she spoke, this time to Ravi.
"Ravi would you mind leaving us two girls together? I believe y/n would feel more comfortable giving me her account without others listening in".
At this you watched as Ravi immediately stood up, eying you with strange eyes, before walking out of the canteen, the door's hinges making an utter awful squeaking noise that reminded you of the deer your father use to shoot.
"Andie wasn't like the others".  You didn't recognize your voice as you spoke. It was brittle, far away sounding, pain infused. You watched as Pippa remained speechless, eying you with her soft grey eyes.
"The others?" Her brows furrowed, "other students you mean?".
You nodded, a tear flying past your cheeks and onto your bottom lip, tasting the familiar salt on your tongue. You watched as pip followed the motion, eyes drifting down your lips.
"At first when she came round to me, I thought it was some cruel joke she was trying to play. I had heard about what she'd done to Nat De Silva. People talked. But....when she came round to my desk after French class and asked if I could tutor her I was lost for words". Pippa watched as a smirk filled your lips. 
"Andie bell was kind to me. I don't know why....perhaps she saw something in me others didn't bother to see. And-and perhaps if we had gotten to be around each other more we could have been something. But she's gone now. And no one can bring her back".
"I will"
The words made your eyes find pip's. And you watched as the girl without thought reached over the table, taking your trembling fingers into her own, holding them against her own flushed fingers. Almost like she knew.
"I can't promise you Andie....I cannot simply wave my fingers and make her appear. Although I wish I could....but I can offer you peace. Justice. I can offer you a finalized solid answer to what truly happened to her. I've heard what others said about you and her. You were special to her too y/n".
At that all composure left you. Your body began to tremble and you let the soft sobs rock your body, the all to consuming feeling of grief taking over.
In an instance pip was beside you, bringing you to her chest and holding tightly. So tight you could feel the girls heartbeat, which was rapid and going a mile a minute. Battering against her rib cage.
You clung to her, after all these fives years you had wanted someone to hold you like this, to brush the tears away and say that it gets better. That time can heal wounds, but of course stuck with your father who had no notion of feelings or emotions that was not what you had learned to expect. Instead you tucked it away.
But pippa was kind. She had a sense of ease that seemed to calm your racing heart. And lull you into a sense of comfort. And perhaps, if you were being honest, she had that same energy to her. It was like having a piece of Andie with you, however small it was. Because as much as Pippa reminded you of Andie, she was almost completely 100% different. Where Andie was rough around the edges, pipa was solid, keen on the way she thought, logical. Where Andie was sporadic and lacking sympathy, pip made up for it with her soft eyes and just heart.
In the weeks that followed you found your eyes finding Pip's when you would greet her in the hall of Kilton grammar, her eyes seeming to find yours in a crowd. She was always the first to greet you, smile that pipa smile. What you were not aware of was the fact that pip had been ogling you during lunch apparently.
"What's up with Pippa Fitz Amobi always staring at you?" You blanched. Eyes wide as you eyed your best friend Seth from across the lunch table, your fresh salad you had nicked from the canteen bar forgotten.
"What do you mean? I helped her out with her end of term project a few weeks ago. She's probably just grateful or something. Not many people gave her grace over the topic" you growled out.
Seth, who was not very bright in social cues only began talking yet again. "No I mean, she's always staring at you now. She was in geography and just now when you sat down. I think she fancies you".
You had to chuckle at that, your laughter filling the lunchroom, your cheeks flushed and eyes wide, you immediately shoved Seth, "that is the most stupid comment I have ever heard!! Pippa fitz Amobi having a crush on me! Me Seth! I'm nobody. Seriously what a notion. She's probably got a few more questions to ask me."
"Well I better prepare because she's coming this way".
Your smile vanished, your eyes wide. "What!"
And like clockwork pipa was in front of your table, blue eyes scanning you. "Sorry to interrupt your lunch hour y/n, but would you mind if I asked you to have dinner with my family and I after school? I know it's sudden. I was going to ask Ravi, but I figured I hadn't properly thanked you for answering my questions"
Seth smiled from the brim of his thermos, making your nerves ramp up even more, but you stayed calm, moving your eyes to Pippa's. A small smile formed on your lips as you took in her face, all furrowed lines and nervous fingers behind her back. You half expected her to serenade you with random facts, a sign she was nervous.
"I really would love to pipa" you began, and you watched as Pippa's smile began to grow, her blue eyes alight with something you couldn't understand yet.
"That's wonderful!! My mum is making shepards pie, are you alright with that? I wouldn't want to make something that doesn't sit well with your stomach". Pippa’s nervous rambling was cute to an extent, and you only chuckled.
"I haven't had a decent shepards pie in quite  while, my father isn't a real good cook." You explained, and pipa nodded, before reaching out and taking your hand in hers, your reflex was to pull your hand away, but Pippa's touch was firm, almost gentle as she softly moved your sweater from your Palms, "it's alright, I'll be gentle, no need for a scare" she spoke, directly to you, blue eyes soft as she produced a pen from her Kilton uniform, writing her home address on the back of your palm, the nib of the pen feeling cold against your warm skin.
Seth only remained the smiling idiot he was, wagging his furrowed brows as if to say, 'is that evidence enough?' You only sent him daggers.
Turning back to pip who was on the last letter of her street name, you eyed the canteen, finding little to no teens were sat paid attention to you two. You made a small noise with your throat, watching as pip's eyes flew to yours, a sea of light blue, whispering softly you spoke.
"How's your EPQ going? Have you made any progress? About Andie?" Maybe it was the way her name fell of your lips, or how desperate for answers you were. Pippa's eyes widened, and she spoke fast, "I can't speak of it here. That's partly why I invited you round to my house. I have some more questions. But these need to be answered privately."
Privately?
Pippa must have sensed your apprehension, because she was soon smiling, "nothing to be scared about y/n. If anything your answers have changed my mind about Andie. To an extent. And it will just be us tonight, Ravi is working. I noticed how you clammed up with him last time".
"I didn't clam up, it's just odd having Sal singh's brother eying me like I have some secret I'm hiding from him." You shot back, your confidence seeming to find its way out. You couldn't help but feel that raw feeling weld up in your chest, your teeth gritted out. You felt a flush take over your face as you apologized, your words escaping you. Gosh, here pip was going out of her way to invite you to a dinner, a family dinner that is, where you were probably intruding on, and you had snapped at her.
Pippa only eyed you, eyes flashing over your flared nostrils and wide set eyes,you watched as her eyes remained transfixed to your features, her blue grey eyes darkening just enough as she eyed your flushed cheeks. You would have found that odd, if it were not for your rambling, rapid apologies falling of your lips.  Pip only halted your words, leaning in so close you could smell her perfume, strawberry and raspberry. Your heart raced out of its chest at the way Pip moved to lean over you, her eyes taking in your eyes and your flushed racing chest, the smile that reached her lips was so saccharine that it made your stomach erupt in butterflies. Pip spoke softly against your ear, like it was some sort of secret to be hid from others.  Her words were soft, velvety against her tongue, "I like when you use your voice" she spoke, "it's cute. You look almost like a little puppy, puffing out its chest and barring its teeth. Such a sweet little creature"
From the way Pip smiled victoriously over the way your eyes followed her, almost trance like, you could practically feel Seth's eyes burning holes into you, probably resisting the urge to yell "she's obviously flirting with you!".  Once your brain was cognizant enough to realize that pip had said you reminded her of a dog, a puppy at that. A puppy, the lowest of the forms of dogs. Why didn't she just say you were akin to a baby playing in the sand box? It would have irked you, if we're not for the way that pip stayed eyeing you, a shine in her grey eyes, almost like she was getting some sort of high from teasing you. It made your cheeks flush and your eyes move down to her lips, which were plastered in that smile, the one that twisted your insides in the best way.
You felt your confidence come back to you in tiny spurts, your eyebrows raising, tongue coming to peek out over eager lips, "Who knows Amobi?" You spoke, twisting your lips into a even sweeter smile, your voice taking on a different tone, "I may be a wolf in sheep's clothing, easy on the eyes, soft, sweet, so sweet that you would be blinded by what I could do".
At that you watched as pip's eyes glazed over, her usual pale complexion pink in color. "Is that so?" She began.  "Well I'll just have to see about that. Half past six tonight, don't be late" she spoke, winking at you and walking off. As she walked off, You felt a sudden pang in your chest at your realization. You liked Pippa Fitz Amobi. You had ever since she had held you that day a few weeks ago.  But you never acknowledged it, it felt to odd. Too shameful.  You hadn't had a crush on anyone since Andie, you had stuck to your small group of friends and avoided going out, mostly you stayed in your room, far away from prying eyes and your father, who was too into himself to notice your tear stained cheeks on days you would allow your mind to drift back to Andie.
It almost felt like you betraying her, being here flirting with pip, almost like you had forgotten her for a split moment. Like your pain and anguish had been wiped clean and put back together by the girl in front of you.
Pippa watched you as she sat back with Cara, the way your eyes were downcast, and she felt a pang in her heart, you were still grieving, that part was evident. But if she could just get to know you, the real you she was sure she would be able to help ease the burden. After all Andie and you had been close, close enough that even witnesses and Andie's own friends had stated that Andie had been drawn to you. Like a moth to a flame.
At first pip had found that odd, a girl of Andie's caliber being drawn to you, but as she observed you throughout the weeks she found out two things. first, you we're different than all the other students that roamed these halls of Kilton grammar. You were kind to a fault, the sort of kind that made people smile, and their days brighter. You were a ray of sunshine on a cold dreary day. No wonder Andie had been drawn to you, after all she had been through with her dad, her family life, you had been a breathe of fresh air. A oasis away from the troubles of life. But you were also a mystery, one she couldn't wait to sink her teeth into, to know every little secret you ever had.
"Shall I send off the wedding invitations?" Cara spoke, making pip roll her eyes but steal some of the girls custard, which remained untouched on the girls plate.
"It seems Pip's EPQ is not the only thing she wants to study" seth spoke, and you only rubbed your cheeks in your hands, "oh god! She probably thinks I'm a nutter Seth” you gritted out.
Seth laughed, "after that performance?? Are you kidding me!! If I was a girl I would have fallen for you! I mean, you basically challenged her back. Pip seems like she needs that."
**********
Kilton weather was often dreary, which was why you were partly glad that you had managed to bring your jumper, the air was cold and seemed to nip at your bones. You had snuck away while your father had gone down for bed, his tell tale signs of liquor cans littering the floor and the loud snores indicating he was out for the night.
Not that he minded if you went out, he usually didn't have any notions of where you were, it was a miracle you weren't one of those teenagers who abused that power. You knew many teens who would go wild with the freedom your father gave you. But with freedom came many things, the mood swings, the often vile words that would fall of your fathers lips when he drank too much. You knew he loved you, it was apparent he did, but he never had the courage to say it, never once. You chalked it up the fact that he had never had that himself, your grandparents were the typical Victorian English parents, their idea of affection was a Pat on the back and a job well done.
Drastically different than your mother. Even after years of her being gone you still felt the ache that her face brought. Etched into your memory like a painting that would never waver. Or fade. You hoped. Your mother had been your world, she had been there to pick you up and dust you of, but like everything in life she had withered and vanished. It was a car accident that took her. The icy roads of Kilton still haunted you. So you were on your own. Till Andie of course. Then you felt less alone, less inclined to be alone. Andie wasn't all smiles, she was a girl trapped in a toxic house, where her father would eye her looks, make her feel little than she was. You had understood that to a sense, and would sit and listen as she would talk endlessly about her father.
The Amobi's household was quiet, the house sitting on the edge of town, with a quiet garden in the front that you knew Pippa’s mother had loved to garden in. It didn't surprise you that right as you made it to the door, it opened. Pippa standing in the threshold, a dinner dress on and hair pinned slightly to the side, enough that you couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked. 
Vastly different from her regular Kilton uniform,  although the high knee socks did wonders for her appearance.
You couldn't help but notice how formal she looked, meanwhile you were less than formal.
A blush overcame your features, eying your now less than formal dinner attire. "I didn't realize it was fancy dress" you stated, "that dress looks beautiful on you pip. Even I couldn't make it as radiant as you".
Pippa had smiled, her cheeks crimson. "Oh this? I figured you would like to see me in something more than my Kilton uniform. Please, come in. You'll catch your death out here.".
Immediately you were bombared with checkered paws and a snout that began to lick at your face, all rough tongue and eager sniffs. you giggled, moving to draw your hand through the dogs soft fur. "This must be Barney. I've been told we share a couple attributes" you laughed, and the dog only began to bark at you playfully. The moment was ruined quick enough when pip gently moved Barney, "she's not here to see you Barney".
Pip's mother, Mrs Amobi had been almost overjoyed to see you. She had reached out and had hugged you so hard your bones had nearly popped off. She had knew your mother for years and had even stated you looked just like her. It was a comfort to know.
Mr Amobi had been just as nice, smiling and telling you how lovely you looked, you were thankful that a father had noticed. Josh was next, he had quickly said hello to you and asked if you were Pippa's new friend, to which you had eyed pipa and playfully remarked that was up to her. 
Dinner was pleasant. You couldn't remember sitting down to a dinner like this, where the food was made with love and care, where jokes were passed around and by the end you were filled with laughter and a full stomach. You tried not to notice pippa's eyes which were on you for almost half the dinner. It would have seem of putting to anyone else, but you noticed the way Pip's eyes would watch you as your brought trifle to your mouth, grey eyes zeroed in on the ice cream that stuck to your lips. Or the way she would make a joke, eyes seeming to smile wide when you would laugh just a little harder.  While you had gotten up to help Mrs Amobi with the dishes, feeling like a horrid house guest when she had just smiled and told you to sit your pretty self down. You had been hesitant to, but it was only then that pip crossed the room, moving to whisper something in your ear. Goosebumps arose on your forearms and you only watched as she took your hand in her own, fingers slotting against your own.
"Before you leave I was wondering if you wanted to take a look at my EPQ? It's just- I found some things you might be interested in".
You had agreed, feeling your stomach coil pleasanty as pip's fingers wrapped around your own, her grip soft yet firm, fingers caressing your skin. It made your head dizzy with want, the type that would fill your head and cause you to do stupid, stupid things. Luckily as soon as you passed into the threshold of Pips door your eyes caught sight of the board adorning the girls room. And as quickly as the soft syrupy feeling in your stomach had come it was gone. Vanished just of the sight of the crime board,
you were met with the board, Pippa's writing strewn about and evidence upon evidence filling the space. It shouldn't have made you so emotional, but you couldn't help but bring your hands to your lips. After five years pipa had managed to collect more than enough evidence, something the Kilton police hadn't the courage to do.
"You-you did all this?" You spoke, eyes turning to pipa in amazement.
She humbly nodded, "well Ravi helped me. But I did most of the work. I just felt as if I should show you" pip spoke, moving closer to you, enough that her pinky bumped over yours, the soft feeling of skin against your own making your cheeks flushed.
You eyed the board, taking in the utter dedication that had gone into it, but it was what was written on the board that made your heart stop. Not from surprise, or even grief. But anger. Anger that had grown in your chest for years now.
'Andie's secret older guy?' Written in Pipa's messy yet beautiful handwriting stared back at you. You could feel the way your heart had stilled, the world was quiet. Nothing but the board and pipa by your side.
You knew Andie well enough to know that you were just a pawn in her game. Even if she had told you she was fond of you, made you feel special, made you feel like you were important, said she saw you differently than others, she still had used you.  You were never as important as she said you were. Because it was evident from the board that she hadn't been as enthralled with you as it seemed. She had been secretly out with some older man.
You chucked sardonically, eyes moving to pip's ceiling. "Andie always did love her secrets didn't she?" You whispered.  "I know it's silly, but Andie was all I had left after my mum died. She made me feel like I was the most important girl, she would coo at me and tell me that she thought I was beautiful. And then she'd tell me to tell her she was the most beautiful girl in the world. And I would, without hesitation. But now I'm seeing parts of her I didn't recognize, or perhaps pieces that were always there but thanks to my naivety I just brushed off. I'm- I'm angry. Obviously, that she lied to me, it hurts. The type of hurt that makes your eyes burn and your body numb. But I also know that she's still out there, and even if she hurt me I'm not giving up". The conviction   in your voice was enough to cause pip's heart to stop, hoping that someday you'd talk about her like that. With stars in your eyes.
"I'm glad to hear you say that. Because I know this is awfully sudden, but- would you like to be my partner on this case?" Pip spoke, tilting her head and eying you with such soft eyes.
It was different from the flirty Pip from the canteen. Here was just pip, with her soft kind eyes, peering at you with-understanding.
" isn't Ravi your partner? I would hate to intrude-"
"I want you with me" pip has stuttered, eyes wide when she had spoken, but then her eyes calmed and she spoke again, "I want you to help me with this case. You knew Andie better than anyone. And you could be important. Theirs no reason why this case can’t have three investigators”.
You let your eyes fall down to pip's wooden floor. For five years you've wanted the chance to find out what happened to Andie, not just for yourself but her parents, and Becca. The whole Bell family, because even if they had hurt Andie, she had also hurt them in turn. When you meant family, you had no notion of adding Jason bell to the mix.
"Alright" you spoke, lips upturning into a smile.
"I'll help you".  The smile on Pip's lips was reward enough.
******
The first thing you learned about Pip was that she was different from the other girls you'd met. And you had met many, being a tutor at Kilton grammar many had come to you. And they were all the same. The same way of speaking, even the same monotone spirit in their eyes.
But Pip was different. She was clever, well educated. Her brain worked faster than others. Perhaps a touch obsessive, but you would admit that you were also on the edge between obsessive.
"Andie had a burner phone" you spoke, watching as Pip's eyes burned with excitement, Ravi sitting on her chair in her room. It had been a particularly hard day, one that lead with no leads. Till you had spoken, hoping this fact would help. You had remembered seeing Andie silence the phone when you had been studying together, saying something about a Howie Bowers.
Pip's smile was wide and she immediately rushed to you, pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, "y/n you clever thing! We need to find that burner phone. Where could it be?" She thought, back to her usual pacing the floor.
Ravi remained standing a few feet from you, eyes refusing to meet your eyes. Ever since pip had introduced you to the team, Ravi had been distant. You knew he liked pip. Could see it in his dark brooding eyes. To him she must have been a goddess, a girl who thought his brother wasn't guilty, who was going to prove it. Might as well propose.
But lately you had seen their dynamic change. Instead of pip always looking to Ravi, her eyes were on you. You were the one she went to, when her dog had disappeared, when she had cried and cried enough tears you had been the one to wipe them away, to calm her down.
And Ravi knew that. And he hated you for it. And you couldn't help but feel like you didn't quite belong.
You brought that up to Pip during one of your sleepovers, the ones that had become usual now. Usual enough that pip even had designated a drawer that belonged to you. Ravi would complain that it wasn't fair that you got to spend the night, but pip would just smile that smile and say something to make him smile. It usually left you with a bad taste in your mouth.
"Ravi isn't fond of me is he?" You had stated. Pip had looked up from her log entries, halting the recorder that was spewing out a very angry Nat De Silva interview.
Pip's eyes had widened, her lips upturned into a questionable smile. Brows filled with concern more like.
"Where on earth did that come from?".
You had rolled your eyes, moving to lay dramatically on her bed, "you act as if you don't see the way he looks at me. Don't get me wrong he's always been cordial. But-I've seen the way he looks at me. Like he hates me. And everything always had to be a competition for him. Like let's see who can win pip first."
At that Pip's smile was evident as she watched you ramble. Taking in your pink lips, your pale complexion, the way your sleep shirt was riding up enough to reveal your braw straps. Something akin to hunger laid in her eyes.
"And I'm not that type of person" you began, rubbing your tired cheeks, eyes taking in the ceiling.
"I don't like when people have to choose sides. Ravi's making this into some stupid competition, like if your friends with me then you can't be friends with him. and that is not who I am! It's stupid and childish! and honestly I am beginning to think I should drop out, let Ravi and you finish the case. Because I am not-"
"I choose you".
The words had halted on your tongue. Lips dry, you immediately sat up, hair a mess of curls and you eyed Pip, who sat up next to you, laptop long forgotten as she eyed you.
Waiting for your response. Her grey eyes holding so much apprehension in them.
You only eyed her with confused eyes, "I don't want you to have to choose-"
"I don't care. I still choose you over him."
Pip was close now, her form leaning over yours, enough that your heart had begun to race. "I can't help it" pip began, her face now so close to your neck, pip smiled when she caught sight of the way your cheeks flushed.
And without even a warning pip was closing the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss. You only allowed your eyes to close, enjoying the way pip was laid on top of you, the weight of her body making you warm and fuzzy.
Pip kissed like her life depended on it, every brush of her lips was deliberate, very stroke of her finger against your cheeks was soft. It left your head spinning and your lips chapped.
"You taste so good" she spoke, in between kisses, her breathe ragged and eyes wild.
Her hands laid possessively over your waist, fingers gripping your skin softly yet firmly. You don't think you've ever been this turned on before, save for your few moments with Andie.
But pip, with her lips that were unforgiving and her hands that were ticking your sides. You had never thought pip Amobi, the girl who use to ask for extra homework would be this experienced.
Pip's lips moved to your chin, your jaw, your neck. And all you could do was whine in protest.
Again you couldn't help but compare Pipa to Andie, no matter how much you tried not no, to convince yourself that they were different people, you couldn't help it. When Andie had been with you, and she had that look in her eye, that familiar glean, the way her fingers would caress your hands, then up your arm. Andie had always been a hurry. She would pull you against her in the girls toilet, shushing you and then kissing you senseless, to her it was some stupid power move. She would have you say how much you were obsessed with her, and then she would leave you even more turned on, moving to wipe lipstick of her lips in the schools dodgy mirror. She never went far enough with you, and you always wondered why.
She had always been eager, that was fact, but she had never done what pip was doing. Eying you with dark blue eyes, Mapping out every detail of your features, "it's not fair for you to look so utterly ravishing" she had uttered, looking somewhat conflicted as she eyed your lips.
Her delicate fingers moved to hover over your face, swiping delicately a piece of hair that had gotten in the way. The way pip had done it, so softly, had made your arousal burn even more.
Pip sighed, fingers moving to dip bellow your chin, gripping softly, yet enough that your breathe hitched as she lazily caressed the skin bellow your chin.
"What am I going to do with you sweet girl?" she purred, eyes dark. "I could take you here right now on my bed like I've imagined so many times, or I could take you on the floor, though I doubt it would be sanitary. Though I would fancy fucking you on my door. You'd look so cute trying to stay quiet" she drawled out, laughing when your cheeks reddened, she clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, feigning thinking.
Her smile had been confirmation enough that she had come to a conclusion. Her smile somehow looking like a toss between Pervy and downright Sinful.
"How about we start by removing this lovely top? Hmm?" She cooed, lips leaning in to kiss your lips firmly, leaving you breathless and your brain foggy. You only nodded into the kiss, and Pip very cleverly dodged your lips, wiping away the tiny bit of salvia that followed.
It shouldn't have been hot, you knew that. You knew if you were not being controlled by your horny mind you would have been sick, but from the way Pip had begun unbuttoning your night shirt, each button coming undone sending shivers through you. pip remained stoic, but you could see the control in her eyes shifting as the last button was taken of.
"I trust you pip...you can take it off" you whispered, your voice quiet and calm, yet you felt your body buzzing with anticipation.
It was then that your eyes opened, taking in the dark room, chest heaving as you eyes the girl next to you, watching as her chest rose and fell beside you sound asleep. Had all of that been a dream? Your cheeks flushed, the pit in her stomach opening up as you realized.
You were in love with Pippa fitz Amobi, and you couldn’t deny it any longer. You had to confess, for your sanity.
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venuslcver · 6 months
Text
FIRST TIMES ⋆
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pairing: virgin!rafe x bestfriend!reader
synopsis: the notorious outer banks slut, rafe cameron, never seemed to have a first time. at least that's what the people of the town thought.
tw: feminine described character, profanity, alcohol consumption, losing of virginity, unprotected p in v, smut, miscommunication trope, semi-public sex, toxic love (no use of y/n)
any type of interaction including likes, comments, and reblogs is appreciated! but ultimately not necessary. let me know if im missing any warnings!
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contrary to what most of the teenagers on the island believed, rafe didn't become the town slut out of nowhere. there had been theories of who he had lost his virginity to. maybe it was alice— his first-ever serious girlfriend from the 9th grade, or maybe it was mrs. sanderson, his 10th-grade student teacher who of which played favorites with him. she always seemed to have a keen eye on him.
sadly, for you, though it was never any of the above. besides a few whispers for here and there, not a single person would have guessed that it was you who had made rafe cameron lose his virginity.
i mean, everyone had to know that he didn't get his "expert" skills from nowhere. at least that was what every girl in outer banks called it. for years, you had to hear the people of outer banks talk about their "experience" or rather "run-in" with rafe. even a close friend or two of yours. it was enough to make a girl want to stab her own eyes out.
see, no one knew, not a single soul except— rafe and you. if it wasn't for you stopping rafe, he would have shared it with the whole of outer banks. just for rumors to spread like a wildfire.
most girls would have died right on the spot if rafe wanted more than sex and flirting with them. but you weren't one of the girls looking at him from a tiny perspective, i mean, you were his best friend after all.
you both were fifteen, drunk as fuck, while laying out on the open part of his boat. rafe had always seen you in a more sexual way than you ever saw him. not to say that you weren't attracted to him. he had always been known to make a few sexual jokes occasionally. and only a select handful of times did you see him ever gawk at you.
yet, on this day you had seen him look you up and down every chance he got. al though it seemed to be a little out of the ordinary, you shook it off, only holding it in the back of your mind.
so, when he intoxicatedly offered to rub sunscreen on you, like always, you didn't find it weird. starting off like normal, he began rubbing it in on your shoulders, then your back, but this time he slowly began moving his large hands towards the globes of your ass. you had been too intoxicated to speak, along with too turned on.
just as you thought that his horny-fueled actions would stop, he spoke, "i heard that for girls to get'a even tan, their tops gotta be off"
"is that even true?" you thought.
not giving it too much of a second thought, enjoying the attention that he was actively giving you, you shook your head in agreeance. taking that as permission, rafe gravitated his hands over your back, causing goose bumps to appear, before slowly pulling your string bikini top unloose, letting it fall to the sides of you, not being satisfied with the lack of view he was getting of your boobs, rafe pulled at your side, not before spoking yet again, "let me get'your front"
when you flipped around, you could tell by rafe's look on his face that he had only seen boobs in porn, never in real life. not wasting a moment with the opportunity, he yanked at your neck, pulling you into a heated kiss.
covering your boobs as you stood up, rafe guided you into the private bedroom of his new yacht. slowly pulling down your bathing suit bottoms, rafe began laying sloppy kisses down your neck, onto your chest.
wrapping your fingers around his dirty blonde locks, rafe let out a low moan. untying his swimming trunks, you pushed his waistband down, allowing his dick to come out.
pushing you hair out of your face, he spoke with sincerity, "are you sure?"
letting out a verbal "yes", rafe began positioning himself, gently forcing himself in. he began to calm you, "it's ok, baby, i'll be gentle"
slowly fastening his pace, rafe knew that he would come soon, although you seemed to be enjoying it, you weren't as distraught in pleasure as he was. it was a lie if it wasn't said that he was slightly nervous.
"does this feel good?", he asked as he slowly began to rub circles.
"a-a little lower", you said while guiding his hand. his movement seemed to make you fall apart with increasing speed. seeing you fall apart in front of him, caused rafe to become more confident with his actions.
see, rafe thought after what had happened, that you would want something more. but it seemed that you just wanted to keep your friend. taking your rejection to heart, rafe began to become increasingly reckless, starting to do coke. i mean you were the only girl that he was interested in after all. you were his first.
he didn't seem to understand that you never wanted to lose the friendship you guys had after what happened. quickly coming to terms with the fact you could still be his friend while being his girlfriend, you wanted to ask him for a second chance.
but sadly by the time that you had come to the realization, he had already become an unrecognizable person, one that you didn't even want to look at. though that never stopped him from eye fucking you from across the room at a party, all while being completely and utterly coked out
his change in personality never stopped you from reminiscing on how gentle he was, even when he had never done it before. though you never knew he often thinks of that day. hell, out of all people, he would stop doing dangerous shit if you asked.
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justmeinadaze · 10 months
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Children of the Night Part 6 (Steddie X You)
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Warnings: Vampire Steddie/ Daddy Eddie/Sub Steve X Human sub fem reader, SMUT, while drinking blood (nothing new here), holding wrists, lose of virginity (in a flashback between steddie), dirty talk, FLUFF, they love each other, flashbacks of how this Steddie met and their first time together, ANGST, reader and Steve get hurt due to a break in, reader blames herself, Eddie get worried about losing Steve, in flashbacks Steve's relationship with his family is touched on including them kicking him out for his sexuality (the actual fight isn't elaborated on; just the aftermath), mentions of the night Steve thought he lost Eddie.
A good amount of feels in this one so please...enjoy :)
Word Count: 4662
Loud knocking on their door startles you as both men roll their eyes. 
“Do you have to be so aggressive?”, Steve scolds after opening it and allowing the curly haired boy entry. To his surprise, another boy followed behind him. 
“I brought Mike to do some extra digging and help reroute the servers. We need to find out how they found you so we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”, the young man explains before turning to face you. “Hi. I’m Dustin and this is my friend Mike.”
“I’m Y/N.”, you smile as you shake his hand. 
“Cool.”, he beams as they throw their bags down and take a seat at the computer. “Why didn’t you guys mention you made a friend?”
“She’s not our friend. We kidnapped her and she’s here against her will. You know you’re our only friend Henderson.”, Eddie sass as he hovers over them. 
“Ooo someone’s grouchy. When was the last time you ate?”
“It won’t help. This is always his demeanor.”, you tease making the vampire smirk in your direction. 
As they began to work, you explained to them what happened and listened to their feedback with fascination. You had never met kids so young who knew about all these things that you did but it tickled your brain to finally have someone to bounce off your computer knowledge with. Eddie and Steve sat on the bed watching you with small smiles on their faces. They loved seeing you be happy especially the metalhead who could feel the warmth through to his soul. 
“Where did you learn all this stuff, Y/N?”, Steve asked.
“Oh, um, that incident I told you about on the beach? That wasn’t the first time I ran off. When I was a kid and I knew my mom would have some creepy guy over I would stay with a friend whose dad was a computer whiz. That was when computers were much boxier though.”, you grin.  
“Yeah and back then it was easier to get away with the things you’re trying to get away with right now because it was in its infancy. You said, Y/N, they intercepted the traffic but not during the stream?” Dustin nods when you affirm his answer.
“That means they still haven’t found the exact location so the bounce is still working. Maybe we can just reroute that?”, Mike suggests.
“Is there a way we can hide it all together?”
“Um, not exactly. I mean we CAN hide it but not completely.”, the curly haired teenager responds to your question. “This may take us awhile if you three want to go out or something.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, Henderson. Are we distracting you?”, Eddie jests making the younger boys chuckle. 
“Come on, grouchy. Let’s go for a walk.”, you beam.
***
While you and the vampire went for stroll around the neighborhood, Steve offered to go to your house to get a couple more of your things so you’d have a change of clothes and essentials. 
“So, they know all about your adventures in that scary place?”
“Oh yeah. They were handling it alone believe it or not for a while. Mike’s best friend was kidnapped by one of the monsters down there and they fought to get him back along with Mike’s girlfriend who has superpowers.”
“Jesus. There’s so much unknown in this world, huh. Kind of makes what I’ve been through seem so small.”
Eddie’s hand yanked you back as he came to a stop. 
“It’s not though. Don’t invalidate yourself like that, princess.”
“Y/N Y/L/N! Where the hell have you been?!”, your best friend shouts from across the street. 
“Hey Lilly.”
“Don’t you ‘hey Lilly’ me! I have been so worried. I almost filed a missing persons report! Where the fuck have—”
“I’m fine, Lil! Calm down. I’ve just been working a lot and hanging out with my friends. This is Eddie.”, you gesture towards him. 
A sarcastic smile spread across her face before she marches toward him and hits his arm with her bag. 
“I…have…been…worried…sick!”
“Ow! Hey, we told her to double check her phone.”, Eddie defends.
“Oh shit my phone. I’m so sorry. I haven’t checked in a while.”
“Y/N,” she sighs. “You can’t just disappear like that. I thought John maybe…”
“I don’t know where John is. I haven’t seen him since he came by my house.”
“Did you know Arthur’s missing to? Their dad is looking everywhere for them including your house. When he came to talk to me he said every time he goes to your place you aren’t home so… I panicked.”
“Lilly, honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m alright, I swear.”
Your best friend exhales heavily as she wraps her arms around you. 
“If I call you next time, you answer do you hear me?” She smiles as you give fake salute. “If you hurt her I will kill you.”
He flashes her a smile of his own as she turns around and heads back to her car. 
“Should we be concerned about the dad?”, Eddie inquires. “She said he was looking for you and I felt your fear.”
“That entire family scares me but we should be ok.”, you try to comfort him but he still feels your hesitation. “Let’s, um, let’s go home.”
***
As dawn slowly approaches, you and the vampire begin to panic when Steve still hadn’t gotten back from your place. 
“Do you feel him?”
“I don’t. Wherever he is he’s not feeling anything but that could also mean—”
“He’s knocked out. I’m going to my house.”
“Wait! I can run you there faster.”
“No you can’t. The sun is coming up! Just stay here, baby, ok?” Taking the human boy’s keys, you run to his car and speed over to your house. As you park in your driveway, you realize your front door is wide open and you can see your house has been ransacked. “Steve?”
Cautiously you step inside, grabbing a knife from the kitchen and holding it out as you look around. As you turn into your bedroom you find Steve passed out on the floor, bleeding from his chest. 
“Steve?! No. No, no, no. Baby, wake up! Look at me!”
“Y/N?”, he mumbled at the sound of your voice.
“Fuck! Come on. We need to get you to Eddie.” Throwing his arm over your neck, you try to move him but it’s no use. He’s too heavy. “Please, Steve.”, you cry, finally giving up as you grab the phone to call 911. As soon as your hand makes contact with your device, something hard hits your head as the world goes dark. 
***
“There she is. Come on now, Y/N.”, a deep voice urges as your eyes slowly blink open. “There we go. I thought you were never going to come home.”
Taking in your surroundings, Steve is still knocked out in front of you and still alive but his breathing is shallow. You were restrained to your bedframe on the ground with your hands tied behind your back and when your eyes finally landed on your capture, you came face to face with John and Arthur’s father. 
“Good to see you again, Y/N. I see you’ve been busy.”, he gestures towards the bloody boy on the floor. “I guess my son wasn’t good enough for you. Where is he?”
“I don’t know.”
A hand flies across your face and you suddenly feel an anger in your belly you know isn’t yours. You must still have Eddie’s blood in you. Glancing out the window you realized it was almost sundown; you just needed to buy time. 
“Arthur said John was coming her to confront you about you cheating. Then he disappears. Two days later my son goes looking for his brother over here and then he disappears. That’s not a coincidence, Y/N. Where are they?”
“I don’t know.”
He hits you again and once more that anger rises. You can practically feel the vampire fuming as he paces. 
“If I were you, Thomas, I would leave now.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“Because if you’re still here when the sun goes down, then you’ll be reunited with your asshole sons.”
Kneeling by your side, he holds the knife to your throat making you wince as he draws blood.
“What did you do to my kids?”
“It’s not what I did. It’s what they did to me! John hurt me constantly and the last night I saw him he gave me a black eye before he was ripped to shreds. Arthur fucking shot me before he was killed. I’m glad their gone but I feel bad for them having had you as a father!”
The man kicks your side hard causing you to double over in pain. 
“Stop lying, bitch. If Arthur shot you, you wouldn’t be up and moving around like you are.”
Steve’s watch beeps on his wrist and you chuckle as you spit in his direction. 
“Last chance to leave.” The front door crashes open as Eddie skids to a stop behind the man. “Too late.”
Closing your eyes, you listen as the vampire murders your ex’s father before there’s a sudden silence and you feel your binds being cut. 
“Are you ok?”
“Steve... He needs you.”
You both crawl to his side as Eddie lifts him in arms. 
“Steven, you have to drink now, baby, ok?” The boy’s eyes remain closed as his boyfriend shakes him. “No! No, sweetheart, don’t you dare leave me. FUCK! I’m so sorry.”
Lifting him into his arms, Eddie bites into his neck and slurps at his blood as you watch helplessly. After a few moments, he comes off him with a pop and swiftly slices open his wrist, allowing the blood to fall into the man’s mouth. 
“Come on, Stevie. Please, baby.”, he whispered. Abruptly, Steve’s eyes snap open as he clings to his boyfriend’s arm and drinks causing the vampire’s eyes to roll back. “Fuck, that’s it. Good boy. Y/N…can…can you move?”
“Yeah, what do you need?”
“Take his keys and head back to our house. We’ll be right—mmm--there but I need you to get those boys out. I don’t…don’t care if they aren’t done.”
Nodding, you sprinted out the front door to do what you were told and sped back to their house. 
“We rerouted everything and you guys are up and running again. I wouldn’t worry too much—Jesus. Y/N what happened?!”
“You two need to leave NOW.”
“Are you kidding?! What’s going on? Are Eddie and Steve alright?!”, Dustin shouted. 
“YES!”, you lied. “But we need you guys to go to hotel or home. I promise you I’ll make him call you and tell you everything! PLEASE!”
Hesitating for only a moment, they quickly gathered their bags and you watched as they got into their rental car to drive off into the night. As soon as they disappeared, Eddie flew past you and placed Steve on the bed. 
“I don’t know if it worked. He just passed out while drinking from me. Fuck. Fuck! I should have gone with you or gotten your things for you. Your house is never safe.” Sensing your guilt, he hastily turns around and cups your face. “No, hey. I didn’t mean it like that. This isn’t your fault, sweetheart. Ok? Shit.”, he flinches as he sways and you carefully guide him to the floor. “He took a lot from me. Can you—”
He didn’t even finish his sentence before you ran into the kitchen to find a bag of blood, tearing it open, and bringing it back to him. As he chugs it back, his black eyes scan you over.
“When I feel better, I can heal you to.”
“No, Eddie. I’m ok. I just want you to focus on you two.”
“Y/N, I woke up after 2 months…I don’t know how long it’s going to take him.”
###########
That evening, you looked after them both with Eddie refusing to leave his boyfriend’s side. Removing Steve’s shirt, you used a rag to clean the blood from where his stab wound had been and wiped away the mess around his mouth. All of the previous wounds were gone but his breathing was still extremely shallow. 
Curling up behind Eddie, you held him as he cuddled up into Steve’s nook and caressed his face. 
“Is this what it felt like, baby? When you thought I was gone… I’m so fucking sorry, Steve. You never should have experienced this. It hurts way more than those little fucker’s teeth ever did. Please, come back to me.”, he cried.
The memory of him waking up and feeling alone clouded his mind; the feeling of being lost before hearing his lover’s voice and their song on the little radio. 
“'Cause all I can taste is this moment and all I can breathe is your life. So and sooner or later, it's over…I just don't wanna miss you tonight.”, Eddie sang softly before kissing his cheek. “I love you, Steve Harrington.”
***
The sound of thunder startled you awake and as soon as your eyes snapped open they were met with fangs and black eyes staring down at you. His hair was hanging in front of his face and he was still in just his jeans with no shirt. The man’s cold hands were pinning your wrists to the mattress as he hovered over you bent at the knee straddling your waist. 
“Steve?”
He growled loudly at the sound of your voice causing the vampire beside you to jerk awake. 
“Jesus Christ… it worked.”, Eddie murmured, his eyes quickly taking in the situation before him. “Sweetheart, are you alright?
Steve didn’t move or make an indication that he heard him at all. 
“Baby, I can feel how hungry you are. I can take care of you, ok. You don’t need to feed on her.”
You squeaked when his body abruptly shifted as he leaned down to sniff your neck.
“Steven…”, he warned.
“Pretty girl…smells good. Hungry.”
You tried to control your emotions but you couldn’t help the way your pussy clenched as his long, wet tongue licked a line up your throat to your cheek. Steve and Eddie groaned at the same time driving you crazy. 
“Mine.”
“Ours.”, the metalhead corrected. 
“Hungry.”
“I have food in the refrigerator. You can NOT eat her. She needs to be healed first. She lost a lot of blood yesterday.”
Steve snarled but Eddie wasn’t amused anymore. 
“You don’t talk to me or give me attitude, little boy. Vampire or not I’m still your fucking Daddy. Now, let her go or I swear to God I will punish you.”
The boy’s massive, strong palms ran along your head feeling the slight bump and dried blood that remained there causing him to growl again at a much lower register before biting into his skin and shoving his wrist towards your mouth. 
Steve moaned when your lips attached to him while you drank, his hips grinding subtly against your core. 
“Pretty girl. Hurt.”
“Yeah, Y/N got hurt trying to save you.” Eddie’s eyes fluttered as he tried to control all the intense emotions running through his body right now. He was so relieved that Steve was alive so to speak but he could feel his anger and hunger as well as his desire for you.
Grunting, he forcefully pushed you back against the pillows and glared at his partner with his fury filled black eyes. 
“Who?!”
“Don’t worry, baby. Daddy took care of him.” The boy nodded before baring his fangs and leaning towards your neck, hovering just so before snarling in frustration and squeezing your wrists tighter. “What’s wrong, Steve?”
“Need…permission…”
The metalhead let out a breathy laugh that bordered between pleasure and relief. His boyfriend was still in there, he just needed to coax him out the way Steve did with him many times before. 
“Y/N, princess, are you ok?”
“Yes, Daddy.”, you whimper causing the boy above you to smirk. 
“Ok, my good boy. You can have her but when I say stop you have to listen to Daddy, understand?”
Steve nodded, wasting no time as his head fell back beside your neck and his teeth pierced your skin. As soon as his hands released you, you desperately reached between your bodies to push down his pants and move your panties to the side, groaning loudly as you guided his cock into your body. 
“Fuck, Y/N.”, Eddie moaned. “I wish you…you could feel what he’s feeling. Jesus…”
Gripping the other side of your neck, Steve’s hips slammed into yours toeing that fragile border between pleasure and pain as you clung to shoulder. 
“St-Steve…”
The long-haired boy heard the whine in your tone as tears fell from your eyes. 
“What’s wrong, sweetheart? D-Do you need to stop?”
“Too much, Daddy.”
“Steve, you have to stop now, ok?”
The man growled when Eddie touched him causing him to growl back. 
“Steven!”, you shouted in a firm tone making them both freeze. “L-Look at me NOW.”
Doing as you commanded, he lifted his head and his eyes immediately softened when he noticed the streaks of tears along your cheeks. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you urged him to continue while cupping his face. 
“That’s it, baby. I can’t give…give you more blood but you can take me. I’m…I’m so sorry, Steve. This is my fault.”
His head shook as he blinked rapidly, his black eyes receding and his beautiful honey ones pushing forth.
“No…No, honey. This isn’t your fault.”
Hearing his normal, sweet tone broke you as you wrapped your arms tightly around him and he did the same. 
“Keep going. Please. I need to feel you.”
Leaning his forehead against your own, he steadily began thrusting into you again at a much gentler rhythm. 
“I love you, Y/N. Fuck, I can feel you everywhere. It’s ok. Everything’s alright.”
You both desperately panted into each other’s mouths as he felt your pussy tighten around him as you came, following close behind as you felt him fill you up. 
With heavy eyes, you tried to focus your vision but it was too much as the adrenaline left your body and blood loss caught up with you. 
“Sweetheart, no. Keep your… Baby?! Open…eyes…”
################
Flashes of memories hit you at once. 
“Bill, are you kidding? You can’t stay another week just so you can fuck your whore! We have a son to take care of!”
“Mommy.”, five-year-old Steve coos as she slams the phone done after his father hung up on her. “Everything’s ok. I love you.”
“Hey, dad.”
“What is it, Steven? I’m busy.”
Twelve-year-old Steve twirls the basketball in his hand as he carefully enters his dad’s office a bit more. 
“I, uh, wanted to tell you I made captain of the JV team.”
“Seriously? That’s why you bothered me? Get out of here and come back when you actually have something good to tell me.”
“Like we’re in love? You don’t love me?”
A teenage Steve’s hand falls from the girl’s face as she tells him their relationship is bullshit. It feels like his heart was shattered as he angrily leaves her behind in the bathroom. 
“Ahoy. Welcome to Scoops. I’m your captain Steve. What can I get you?”
“Jesus, that was both pathetic and sexy, Harrington.” The man’s eyes shift up to lock on the metalhead in front of him as his big, tooth filled grin almost blinds him. “Only you could pull that off, pretty boy.”
“Eddie, right? Mumford?”
“Munson.”, the long-haired boy cackles. “I’m surprised you remember that much, sire. It’s not like we floated in similar circles. Plus, you were also an asshole.”
“Yeah.”, he chuckles. “I was. Sorry about that.”
The guitar riff for “Iris” begins to play making Eddie roll his eyes. 
“What? You don’t like the Goo Goo Dolls?”, Steve teases. 
“No and this song is fucking cheesy as hell.”
Turning on the couch to face him more, the man brings the beer bottle to his lips like a microphone as he begins to sing. 
“And I don't want the world to see me 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand When everything's made to be broken I just want you to know who I am!”
The metalhead smiles as he playfully cringes causing Steve to laugh harder before crawling forward and placing a soft kiss on his lips. 
“Woah…”
“Fuck. I’m sorry. Did I cross a line? I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. We can just forget it happened and—”
Ring laced fingers grab his cheeks and kiss him again but much more deeply. 
“What if I don’t want to forget?”
“Wait, Eddie. Wait. Um…”, Steve pants as he lightly pushes at his boyfriend’s chest, his cock getting harder as he watches him struggle to pull his lips away from his own. 
“What’s wrong, baby?”, Eddie asks as he tenderly runs his fingers through the man’s fluffy hair. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
“No, no. I do. I just…I’m nervous. I’ve never…not been with a girl…ya know?”
The metalhead grins at his shyness as Steve’s face blushes bright red. 
“I’ll go slow, sweetheart, ok? If at any point you want to stop just say the word.”
After getting the go ahead, Eddie strokes the lube along his shaft a few more times before lining himself up with the man’s entrance and gradually sliding in. 
“Fuck, Steve. You’re so fucking tight.” Opening his eyes, he scans the man underneath him whose eyes had also been closed but his eyebrows and nose were scrunched together. “Look at me, pretty boy. How are you feeling?”, he asks when he does what he says. 
“S-So fucking good. Hurts a little bit but—Jesus—please don’t stop.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”, he teased, placing his palm behind Steve’s neck as he leaned his forehead on his own. 
“Fuck, Eddie. I love you, baby. Just like that.”
The metalhead’s movements faltered for just a second before grinning down at him and kissing his lips. 
“I love you to, sweetheart.”
“Oh my god, Steve! What—”
The boy pushes past Eddie into the trailer living room, his dripping wet frame from the rain drenching the carpet underneath his shoes.
“FUCK HIM! He thinks he can tell me who to be or who I can be with?! Fuck. HIM!”
Eddie grabs his arms and forces him to stand still as he looks him over. 
“Who the fuck hit you?”, he asked with a tone filled with anger. “Was it Tommy or fucking Jason?!”
“My dad finally caught up with the town gossip.”, he answered sarcastically as he bounced on the balls of his feet. “Said no son of his was going to ruin the Harrington name by fucking a guy let alone the town freak. I told him to fuck off and that you were perfect. He said it was either you or them. If I chose to stay with them I couldn’t see you anymore. I told them I loved you and he hit me. And of course, what does my mom do?! Fucking NOTHING!”
Steve fell to his knees and Eddie sunk down with him collecting him in his arms. 
“It’s ok, baby. Everything’s alright. You can stay here as long as you need to. Fuck your parents. You know Wayne doesn’t care.” 
Eddie pushed his boyfriend’s head into his chest, trying to soothe him as he continued to cry.
“Eddie! Eddie! No, no, no, no.”, Steve panicked as he slid to the man’s side in the upside down. 
“I tried, Steve. I tried to convince him to come through the gate with me. He said he needed to buy more time.”, Dustin sobbed as the earth shook around them. 
“Steve, we need to go.”
“Ok, come on, Robin. Grab one of his arms and…”
The girl looked at Nancy sympathetically unsure of what to do. Even she knew they couldn’t carry him through a gate in the ceiling. None of them had the strength especially after being grabbed by the vines. 
“Steve, come on. We have to go.”, Nancy urged, pushing down the guilt that weld up in her throat. “We can’t stay here.”
“Neither can he. We can pick him up and I can—”
“STEVE! I’m so sorry.”
“Hey Mina.”
“Hey Renfield. Draculaaaaa.”, you jest, smiling widely when you see him smirk. “Thank you boys again for letting me help with your site. I love doing this way more than any other customer service bullshit.”
“I can imagine. I used to work at an ice cream parlor and a video store. I know how crazy customers can be.”
“I hope it’s alright. Since you trusted me with your whole empire I thought I’d be more vulnerable with you both to.”
The little box with your name suddenly illuminated with your face causing them both to sigh at the same time. 
“So…this is me.”, you giggle nervously.
“Pretty girl.”
“Very.”, Steve followed, beaming when you blushed at their compliments. 
***
“There she is. Come on, baby girl. Open your eyes, please.”, Eddie urged as he gently rocked you in his arms, trying desperately to hide how worried he actually was. 
When your eyes met his, he breathed a heavy sigh of relief as he tenderly moved some of the hair away from your face. 
“Steve?”
“I’m right here, honey. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to take so much. This is so new to me and—”
Your lips cut him off as you crawled into his lap and collapsed shakily in his embrace. 
“Let me grab her something to eat.”
“I saw it. I saw everything… your memories flashed before my eyes. You’ve been through too much, baby.” He couldn’t help but smile as he kissed your forehead. “I-I-I felt the love you have for him. How many times you felt like he’s saved you.”
Eddie came back and handed you a granola bar but you just held it in your palm as you sobbed while shifting your focus to him. 
“It’s my fault you almost lost him. You both should just go. Grab your things and leave me and LA behind. I’m going to get you both killed.”
Steve growled loudly as he grabbed your face and forcibly turned you to look at him.
“Y/N, what happened wasn’t your fault. What happened with your ex and his asshole brother wasn’t your fault.” Realizing how he was holding you; he swallowed nervously and dropped his hands to your sides. His body twitched and Eddie felt the emotion as he lightly chuckled. 
“Yeah, do you see what I mean now when I said it aggravates me that you both feel guilty about things you couldn’t control. You two feel it so strongly to.”
“It’s so weird. It’s like I can almost hear her thoughts but it’s a feeling. You…don’t believe me when I say it’s not your fault. You think your mom’s right about you. That you just ruin everything basically by existing.”
As you looked away in shame, Eddie reached out to lift your chin. 
“I get what it feels like to think that. My dad was the same way before he went in but, Y/N, it kills me when I feel you feeling that because—”
“You can’t see how perfect you are… to us anyway.”, Steve finishes. 
Silently, you opened the treat he brought you as you waited for them to take care of you. Watching with studious eyes, Eddie licked his thumb and showed his boyfriend how he heals the bites, marveling when the wound disappears. 
“I always did it while you were both asleep.” The metalhead scooted forward and cupped Steve face in his hands as the shared a passionate kiss. “Don’t you ever scare me like that again, sweetheart. I love you so much, Steve Harrington.”
“I love you to, Eddie Munson.”
Series here
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@chelebelletx @mandyjo8719 @nailbatanddungeon
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cakerybakery · 4 months
Text
“We’re already late, asshole. You can primp later. Heaven is waiting for us.” Adam tried to push Lucifer past the shiny reflection in the Heaven embassy, but the king of hell was dead stopped and Adam couldn’t move him an inch.
Lucifer made sure his eyebrows were perfect and fixed his jacket, “Heaven wants a bad guy, so I’m giving them one. Now be a dear and help me sell it, really look angry and upset I have you on a leash.”
“I am angry and upset you have me on a leash. I’ve been telling you all morning that I hope they make you release me from our contract so I can go back to heaven.”
“That’s it baby, keep it up.” Lucifer teased Adam. He knew Adam didn’t like being chained and teasing him like this was going to piss Adam off even more than normal. Lucifer wanted that. He wanted Adam to tell heaven Lucifer was a monster.
He wanted heaven to make a move against him. So he could remind heaven that he was the big boss of hell and the power he welded as such. Lucifer had grown tired of playing the fool. Especially since heaven was so clumsy at playing the hero.
Lucifer promised himself he would make it up to Adam later.
Adam anger was palpable. Lucifer tongue flicked of its own accord and the taste in the air was delicious.
The doors slammed open, causing everyone in the room to jump. He had not meant to open them so harshly but he didn’t regret scaring the angels present when he spotted Charlie barely controlling her demon form.
He nearly lost control of the situation by reacting. Instead he flicked his hand and let his seat at the end of the table pull out for him. He dropped into it and kicked his feet up onto the table. Lucifer manifested Adam’s chain and yanked him to his side.
Adam stumbled and it took a considerable amount of self control for Lucifer to not react.
“What is the meaning of this?” Some angel created long after Lucifer was banished shouted, slamming the table and pointing at Adam.
“Adam?” Sera’s voice was full of concern for her once priced mortal, though she barely moved. “We thought you died? Lucifer, what is the meaning of this?”
“He forced me to sign a contract, selling my soul to him for protection.”
“Nonsense. Sera, you know as well as I do, I can’t force someone to sign a contract with me. That would make it void, contracts must be signed willingly. However, I can make sure the alternative is, unpleasant.” Lucifer leaned into this more aggressive version of what happened. He did nothing to incentivize Adam into wanting a contract with him, but heaven didn’t need to know that.
“This is unacceptable!” That mouthy angel made demands. “Coercing someone is just as wrong, you demon scum!”
Charlie came to his defence but what she said slipped from one ear and out the next.
Lucifer was bored with that heavenly whiny little bitch. He only had room for one of those in his heart, and Adam didn’t even appreciate it. Which was fine. He like Adam, wild.
So if he wanted to get to the meat and potatoes of this meeting he was going to have to get rid of the salad course. Lucifer raised his hand straight out so from his view it was just to the side of that problem angel. Then snapped his hand closed in a tight fist.
The angel didn’t have enough time to squeak as his body was crushed, as though squeezed suddenly by a large unseen hand.
The angels freaked out, screaming and taking to the air. Charlie sat horrified at what she’d just seen. Adam’s knees wobbled as he instinctively backed away. Sera took the brunt of the blood, having been sitting next to the angel at the other head of the table.
Weapons turned on Lucifer and with a swat of his hand he knocked those who threatened him aside. He touched the table lightly and got up from his seat.
As he walked the length of the table his fingers burned into the tabletop. “Sera. It seems I’ve been away too long if newbie angels think they’re a match for me. Did you forget? You’re in my house.”
He increased his size until he crowded even the vaulted ceilings. Lucifer plucked the unlucky angel up and poured what was left of his golden blood into his mouth. “Delicious.” He dropped the body on the table.
“How?” Sera’s tone was shaky. “How did you- this is trick.” She became more confident with the thought. “Whatever you’re doing, stop. This trickery won’t get you anywhere.”
“I don’t care what heaven thinks of wants. Hand Lilith back over to hell or I will get her myself.”
Sera flew up to his face. “You have no power to do so. This is an empty threat.”
“Have you ever wondered why I allowed the exterminations? Souls make a realm powerful, do they not? Isn’t that what you were afraid of? If hell grew too strong it could take on heaven?” He grabbed her in his blood covered hand, careful not to crush her, and grew even larger. The building broke and he attempted to keep it from crushing Charlie and Adam as he grew. “The exterminators would make hell weaker. But I allowed it because killing sinners allowed me to devour their souls. How many has heaven killed for the last eight or nine thousand years? Close to a billion? And all those souls, all the power within them belong to me now.”
With his free hand, Lucifer reached the seal above hell and tore through it like wet paper towel. He peered through the portal at the gate to heaven.
“You. Fetch me Lilith Morningstar, before I get her myself.”
The angel pressed against the gates. “I am the keeper of the gate and I will not allow-“ he was cut off as Lucifer pressed a claw to his throat and cut off his air supply.
“Go. Now.” He released the angel, please to see he scrambled to do as he was told.
Lucifer shrunk down. Letting Sera go as he did.
With an exaggerated wink at Sera he snapped his fingers and the two of them watched and everything reversed itself.
“You-“
“I.”
“How long have you been able to do this?”
“Centuries. I simply didn’t care to do anything until you lot started threatening my daughter and her hotel. Get back into your place and let’s try this again, shall we?”
Lucifer took his seat once more and as a shaky Sera sat back down in her seat, Lucifer snapped his fingers and restarted things.
“This is unacceptable!” That mouthy angel started again. Then choked on his own breathe. He grasped his chest and shook. A sense a dread overwhelming him.
No one else seemed to notice the time shift. Charlie, ever the good person she was, offered the angel a glass of water.
Lucifer was pleased it worked so well. He’d never actually tried that before to such an extent. At most he would use it to undrop something.
“I think we should begin negotiations, don’t you Sera?”
“Yes, we should.” Sera’s voice held an edge of fear to it that Lucifer relished.
It had been too long since he got to really show off what he could do. Lilith would already be on her way from heaven. Lucifer hadn’t undone that. Charlie would have her mother again. Lucifer was going to keep Adam. Adam would come around eventually, he’d already given Lucifer a couple shy kisses over the last few weeks even if he was being pissy today. And no more exterminations, unless heaven wanted to make him even stronger, just like his baby girl wanted.
It was a good day to be king.
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