#girl where was the blue eyeshadow. the lip. even just a baby lash…

[nicollekidman]

don’t know why i woke up thinking about this but the disconnect between margot robbie’s wardrobe and her hair/makeup has been so weird i think that’s the culprit

[peachyteabuck]

trouble looks for me [thorkyrie x reader]

summary: valkyrie has no choice but to break a promise, so you have no choice but to misbehave. thor, well, he’s just along for the ride.

pairing: thor odinson x valkyrie x reader

words: 6,666

trigger warnings: sub!thor, brat taming, spanking, degradation, orgasm denial, creampies, strap ons

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It starts at the restaurant. Valkyrie had been working non-stop to fit in everything she had needed before the end of the fiscal year, leaving you and Thor with her for weeks on end.

In combination with Valkyrie’s strict rules, this also meant you and Thor had touched each other, let alone made each other cum since…Oh god, you can’t even remember…

You’d both gotten a text from her that day, telling you to get ready for a fancy dinner and that she would pick you up at precisely seven.

That left you with five hours to get ready which, to some may have been a lot, but for you…

As with most men, Thor doesn’t take long to get ready – even if it took him a solid forty-five minutes to choose the correct pair of panties (he settles on a baby pink pair with a small, white bow. By the time he was tucking his pristine white shirt into them, you were just finishing up your eyebrows and foundation – let alone had you picked your outfit.

You had narrowed it down to three dresses – a deep blue, thigh-length long-sleeved one with a deep V-neck and makes your legs look superb, a little black dress with tiny straps that leave nothing to the imagination, or a baby pink, floor-length gown with a fitted top that shows off your shoulders and tits and whose skirt flows behind you just as waves recede from a beach at dusk.

(It doesn’t take you long to choose that last one, to say the least. Plus, it matches Thor’s panties. How couldn’t you choose that dress! How!?)

You gingerly place it on the bed as you go back to your bright vanity, placing your numerous eyeshadow pallets and lipstick choices in front of you so you have an accurate view of your make up-related choices for the night. You’ve done looks like this before, played the cute, coy girl many times. Still, you like to make sure everything is perfect – the eyeliner and the eye shadow and your brows and your lips and your highlighter. It all has to be perfectly placed on your face to ensure maximum balance between “totally gorgeous” and “totally fuckable.”

It was ten minutes to the approximate time Val had said she’d pick you up when you’re notified of what could possibly be the worst news ever.

Hey loves, so sorry but a colleague needs some more convincing on a budget proposal. He’ll be joining us tonight for dinner.

You groan loudly, but immediately cease when you receive another text.

That means you both need to be on your best behavior.

You smirk as you go back to adjusting the bracelet Val had gotten you during your vacation to Boca last year. No matter what, no matter who joined you and your lovers, tonight was going to be fun, and whether or not this a blew back in your face was not a problem.

Well, at least not your problem, and at least not now.

You finish getting ready with the fire of vengeance deep in your stomach, jaw set and eyes narrowed as you get the text from Valkyrie saying she was outside waiting with your dishonorable guest (your words, not hers).

You greeted the older man with a curt nod bordering on polite. Luckily, he pays more attention to Thor, moving to shake his hand despite the award angle.

If it were any other context you’d spit in his face, make a passive aggressive comment, something more than all but ignore him as you cross your arms and slump against the fancy leather seating with a small huff. Either Valkyrie pretends not to notice, or she’s too busy allowing Thor to work his patented charms to watch your every move.

Either way, it makes your sour mood that much worse.

The car ride is long, meant originally so that Val could tease you and Thor while she drove (and because all of the closer restaurants may or may not have you banned for life, but that feels like an unimportant detail as you huff and pout in the back of the car). The ride, one you fully expected to be electrifying and fun and full of very unsubtle teasing, is mind-numbingly boring. Valkyrie and the Mystery Man are talking about numbers and other things you don’t care about, the former obviously trying to keep her cool as a man who thinks he knows more than her attempts to explain something she has a master’s degree in. You’re sure that if she could channel you during a particularly bad day to scream and claw at him she would, but no. She’s a professional woman at the top of her field attempting to expertly yield power. For Valkyrie, there is no lashing out; there is no way to regain control once she loses it.

Part of you respects her immensely for this: you acutely know what it’s like to be belittled and demeaned by people who should know better. She’s a bisexual woman of color in a predominately white, male field. Her job is hard, dealing with the men she works with harder. You and Thor listen diligently to her post-work day rants and desire for revenge, help her destress in any number of ways. This part of you wants to snap his neck so he never bothers her again, taking your rightful place as the devil forever keeping watch over her shoulder.

The other part of you wants to snap his neck so that he would leave you and your lovers the fuck alone. Is it too much to ask that you have a nice dinner with Valkyrie and Thor – a dinner where the only thing that could mess with the night’s activities is you!?

As you listen to the man explain what a “tight job market” is again, you wish you could bang your head against the tinted, bulletproof glass so hard you would pass out.

Yes. You think. Yes, it is much too much to ask.

It’s not even thirty seconds later when you get the most magnificent idea. Thor’s not paying attention to you, either, watching the world pass by outside as he thinks about…whatever it is runs through his mind when he’s trying to block out people’s voices.

You wait for the conversation to become loud and thick with tension to strike – knowing neither of the people in the front seat will be paying much attention to whatever it is will happen between you and him. When the time is right, you run your hand over his clothed cock, skin alive with electricity as you feel it twitch.

“You shouldn’t tease me like that,” he hisses low in your ear. “It’ll get you in trouble.”

You just smiled, painted lips twisting into a faux pout and big eyes widening purposefully. “You promise?”

You continue to tease him, sneaking your hand into his pants just to hear his breath hitch. You lean once more, just as your fingers brush over his lace-covered cock.

“I’m getting wet just thinking about you,” you whisper. “Thinking about you coming in your pants before this fancy dinner.”

“If you do that, I’ll cum,” Thor growls lowly, desperate to keep it from Val’s ears.

You smile just as before, leaning close so your perfectly painted lips touch the shell of his ear. “Is that a dare?”

He narrows his eyes at you, trying to remain subtle as Val and the unexpected guest talk about break evens, or something equally boring.

“Seriously, you could get in trouble if you keep doing that!” he whispers, voice pointed.

You just look at him, eyes ablaze with mischief. “Oh, so it’s a challenge.”

Thor just glares at you before turning to look back outside, biting his lip and trying to find a distraction as your hands go down his pants. “Does it make you hard,” you whisper back. “knowing I could do anything I want to you right now? Does is make you hard knowing there’s nothing you can do to stop me?”

Thor’s jaw tenses, but he says nothing back.

“C’mon,” you tease. “Don’t you want to have a little fun with me?”

He shakes his head but says nothing. You huff, baring your teeth a little while you stare daggers into him.

Thor only speaks when Valkyrie’s tone becomes pointed once more, easily covering his own voice. “S-she’ll catch us!” he hisses.

You roll your eyes, fully aware there’s no way either of the people he’s talking about how any interest in either of you. They’re both stubborn, bullheaded, determined to win whatever standoff is happening between the two of them. To consider that they would just turn around to check on you or Thor is ridiculous, to say the least.

There’s no reason they’d look back and see you with one hand down Thor’s pants, the other spread across his thigh; there’s no chance they’d see his eyes screwed shut and his lips barely parted or your wicked grin.

Still, you fun is cut short when the restaurant pulls into view, making you wretch yourself away from Thor while he tucked himself back into his pants and tried to calm the deep blush that had spread across his face. It’s useless, though, because as Valkyrie hands the keys to the valet neither she nor the unwanted guest take a single look at you.  

You roll your eyes as you’re seated at a rounded table in a far corner of the restaurant, you and Thor on one side with Valkyrie and her colleague on the other.

It’s annoying, so annoying. Watching her pay attention to that man, that fucking colleague instead of you. She promised – she promised! – that all of it would be over, that her deadline and goals were going to be met and done and finished and she’d put away her work life for one night to pay attention to you!

(And Thor. But whatever.)

She and the…male…are talking in that tone you recognize from those mind-numbing political dramas Val loves so much. It’s nice, courteous, but fake enough to be sold on Canal Street and threatening enough that it makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up straight.

Needless to say, you don’t like it very much, don’t like it very much at all. You have this indescribable urge to use your perfectly done, almond shaped matte nails to claw into his face – marking him for all to see how easily he was taken down by little ole you.

A similar itty bitty voice wants to fake a medical emergency and order an UberX and to get as far away from him as possible and then fake a slightly more extreme medical emergency every other time you are forced to be around him. There’s just something…slimey about him that you can’t place, like cooked chicken that’s gone bad. It makes you wrinkle your nose each time you have the misfortune of catching him in your eyeline. Thor notices, his face softening as he takes a drink from his glass of ice water.

“You see it, too?” he asks, ducking his head low so to remain unheard by the slimeball in question.

You wrinkle your nose, angling your neck back to whisper in his ear. “I can feel it.”

Thor lets out a small snort before turning back to his first course. You don’t know what he ordered, and don’t care to pick at what Val ordered for you. It becomes obvious halfway through Val’s salad that neither of them – neither of the high powered people in front of you – are paying you any mind. The coworker asks Thor what he does for a living and he’s given the usual lie, that Thor’s a grad student. He doesn’t ask you anything, only giving you a once over before licking his lips and taking a long drink of his expensive red wine.

If you ever wanted to kill someone, right then was the peak of those urges.

It doesn’t take long for you to become a tad more comfortable, a tad of tenseness falling from your shoulders. Almost worse than being uncomfortable, you had become bored. And that, simply, will not do.

The easiest target, Thor, remains unphased by your change in demeanor – either not noticing or choosing not to react. It doesn’t matter his reasoning, you know he’s simple, uncomplicated prey. If the years you’ve known him hadn’t proved that, the incident in the car certainly did.

The next hour or so passes in a blur, the man leaving just before dessert; citing some work emergency or needing to get back to his wife and kids or something else you don’t care to pay attention to (though you do notice he doesn’t offer to pay his portion of the check. Even Valkyrie seems annoyed about that). He’s waved away with a curt goodbye, tense words of rehearsed professionalism exchanged as he waits for his UberX to arrive. It’s uncomfortable to say the least, and you silently rejoice when he finally exits the building.

The second he’s out of sight, though, you’re grabbed by the back of your neck and dragged so your nose touches Val’s.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” she hisses, teeth bared and jaw tense.

You’re stunned by the action, but not enough to not give her a small, wicked smile along with a small, “no.”

Just as Valkyrie’s about to retaliate, the waiter comes around the corner to deliver the dessert menu. She lets go of you immediately, pretending (just as the scrawny waiter is) that no one witnessed the interaction as the waiter begins to rattle off the night’s specials. The three of you choose something different with the same fake smile plastered over your face, one that drops the second he returns to…wherever it is waiters and waitresses go once they’re done talking to customers.

Val turns to you once more, grabbing your knee through the fabric of your dress – a warning. “Just you fucking wait until we get home. If you keep being a brat, you’ll regret it.”

You don’t respond, instead taking a sip of your ice water in a cup that’s one step down from a wine glass. You’re exactly where you want to be, why would you apologize, try to walk back your actions or plead for forgiveness? Now that Valkyrie was giving you the attention you were playing for, there was nothing you felt the need to explain.

The rest of the meal is nice, easy – you all ordered different desserts and pass spoonfuls of each dish between the three of you. It’s nice and sweet, a direct contrast to the sharpness Val had demonstrated just minute before. All three of you continue in your happy little bubble all the way home, cute and smiling and confusing the old heterosexual couples in the restaurant as you sit and leave together.

It all melts away, though, when you get inside the house.

The second you cross the threshold; Val grabs you by the arm and pulls you close to her. You yelp, more in surprise than pain – either way, she ignores you.

“Get your ass in the bedroom and stand at your place, facing the corner, while I wait for you,” she hisses, teeth barred. You whimper when she pushes you away, stumbling up the steps as you scutter off. You fear if you stay or so much as mumble a dissent, she’ll issue a much harsher punishment than the one she’s already planning. Given the anger in her face, you shudder at the thought.

Thor remains just inside the door, hands at his side and awaiting instruction.

Val only turns to him when you were out of sight. He stands there, cock hardening once more in his dress pants while her eyes bear into his.

One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, thumbing over his light stubble. “How are you so well-behaved and she’s like that?”

Thor just gives a small shrug before following the woman he loves up the stairs, trailing behind her as she navigates the prime wood floors despite her high heels and sour mood.

When she arrives in the room she exhales slowly through her nose, not necessarily happy to find you in the place she specified – but at least she hasn’t been disappointed once more tonight.

“Turn around,” she instructs you. You huff and cross your arms over your chest but do as you’re told. “Now, watch what could happen to you if you chose to behave.”

Valkyrie goes to unlock the special drawer at the top of her custom dresser, the solid gold key held on an anklet she wears all day every day. From it she takes Thor’s special collar – the deep blue one with solid white trimmings and PROPERTY OF BRUNNHILDE engraved into a small placard that rests in the center.

Thor accepts the mark of ownership[ with ease and it makes you want to roll your eyes. He’s always one to give in easy, who lives to be dominated. At the first sign of Valkyrie’s dominance, he opens his mouth eagerly for a gag, wiggles his ass for spankings, tilts his neck back to be choked. It’s pathetic, and Val loves it.

“Aw, I’ve barely touched you,” she smiles. “Why are you already opening your mouth, you needy thing.”

Thor just whines high in his throat, pleading up at her as he keeps his position on the floor. He wasn’t asked a question so he can’t respond, can’t speak – all he can do is sit there and hope she takes pity on him and gives him whatever it is he wants, needs.

For now, though, she’s got something more pressing to deal with. She sighs before turning to you in the corner, your nose pressed where the two white walls meet with arms at your side. Below your feet is a light pink mat demarking where you are supposed to be, where Val makes sure you stay when you’re waiting to be punished. If you had done something less bad you might have been able to face outward, but no. Not only had you behaved incredibly poorly, you had dragged Thor into your pitiful little game.

Thor – Val’s golden boy. He’s the apple of her eye, the sun after a storm. Thor’s always good, always perfect; always follows rules and does the right thing and never, ever talks back. He’s always her first pick as a plus-one for parties because he’s so wonderful and charming and can make any man or woman or pet fall head over heels for him. He’s like a fucking golden retriever and you hate him for it.

The worst part about that special, untouched crystal tchotchke of a man is that you’re never allowed touch him, to smudge him with the oil that pools on the pads of your fingers. Each time you see him – all shiny and new like a Tiffany bracelet just out of the packaging – you feel like a child dragged to a fancy art museum, forced to keep her hands in her pockets as adults gaze at timeless works of art.

It infuriates you, and she knows that.

Valkyrie pushes you down to the ground, teeth barred. “Get on your knees and keep your hands behind you, you stupid slut.”

You do as you’re told, bratty façade breaking away.

“Aw, look,” Valkyrie coos to Thor, sarcasm dripping from each word. “Our dumb little whore can follow directions! Isn’t that surprising?”

Thor, always one to follow directions, says nothing in return.

Valkyrie hmms happily at his obedience before turning back to you.

“Are you nervous, baby girl?” she asks. You nod slightly. “You should be. You’ve been a very bad little slut.”

Silently, one hand moves to cradle one side of your jaw, while the other pulls back just to land on your cheek in a sharp SLAP!

You cry out at the sharp pain but still squeeze your thighs together to quell the deep heat in your center.

Valkyrie laughs, lips forming into a sneer. “Just a little pain is getting that little pussy wet, isn’t it?”

Your mouth goes off faster than your brain can process. “I’m still turned on from fucking with your baby boy in the restaurant bathroom.”

SMACK!

Valkyrie slaps the other cheek, speaking over your cries of pain. “If I hit harder, will you be a good girl?”

You cower, too terrified to respond.

“Hm…” Valkyrie hums, unimpressed. “Do you like being punished?” she asks, looking down at you with har arms crossed.

You shake your head.

Val just smirks. “So if I checked right now, you wouldn’t be wet?”

You gulp and cast your eyes downward. Still, she continues.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” she spits. “Do you even know why?”

She doesn’t wait for a nonresponse before continuing.

“It’s because deep down you’re just waiting for someone to put you in your fucking place.”

You gulp, but don’t deny it.

“Stand up,” Val hisses, watching as you struggle to get to your feet. As soon as you’re back on your feet she strips you, taking off your dress and then your shoes, leaving you in your lingerie.

Doesn’t even take the time to notice you matching Thor…she really is pissed.

“Spoiled little slut,” Valkyrie hisses. “You just need someone with a firm hand to teach you a fuckin’ lesson, don’t you?”

You swallow, petrified. “I’m sorry.”

Val raises a single eyebrow, but keeps her arms folded. A small victory. “You’re sorry?”

You nod. “Yes.”

She narrows her eyes. “Sorry what?”

“Sorry-“you hesitate, terrified of saying the wrong thing.

“Daddy,” Valkyrie instructs.

“Sorry, Daddy,” you mumble.

She narrows her eyes once more and you scramble to correct your mistake.

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you say, straightening your back to enable you to look her dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry for being bad, Daddy.”

Valkyrie just hmms, tapping her foot against the hardwood  floor. “You know that alone isn’t going to convince me to forgive you, right?”

You cower away from her, shaking your head. “No, Daddy.”

“Well,” she sighs, looking to Thor – who just gives her a light shrug, just as before. Like most men, he never knows what to do with you. “I’ll just have to take you over my knee, won’t I?”

You gulp. Over the knee always lead to something more – something worse. You’re terrified to find out what that might be.

Val sits herself on the bed, gesturing for you to lay yourself across her thighs. You give her a sneer but do as you’re told, laying your naked body across her legs as you wait for your punishment to officially commence.

She runs her perfectly manicured nails over the supple skin of your ass and back, watching as goosebumps form and a shiver runs up your spine. One hand rests on the back of your neck, holding you in place, while the other ghosts over your center.

When you whine, harsh slaps are laid against your ass, at least ten in quick succession. She ignores your cries as she yanks your head back by your hair as she sneers.

“You brats just love trying to get under my skin, but the moment I tease you, suddenly I’m the bad guy?” Valkyrie laughs while staring down at you. “Don’t act like you’re not getting exactly what you wanted, baby.”

For the first time that night, you bite your tongue and stay quiet.

“So now she wants to listen,” Val smirks. “Now the little brat wants to shut her filthy whore mouth and open her little ears.”

You whimper, curling into her as she continues to spank you until your ass is burning. Tears are threatening to fall from the corners of your eyes when she stops, pushing you off of her and back onto the floor.

“Enough punishment for you,” Val says, turning back to Thor. “I’m gonna focus my attention on someone who actually deserves it.”

The man in question remains in position across the room – him leaning on his heels with hands palm-down on his deliciously thick, bare thighs.

Fuck, what you wouldn’t do to ride him.

Valkyrie cups his scruffy cheeks with one hand, the other moving to run through his perfectly tussled hair.

“You wanna be my good little whore?” she asks, gazing down at his wide eyes.

Thor licks his lips, nearly jumping out of his skin with his red cock bouncing against his stomach. “Yes, Daddy. I want to be your good little whore.”

“And you’re going to be a good boy and do as you’re told. Aren’t you?” she asks, smiling as she watches him fight back a moan.

“Yes, Daddy.”

Valkyrie smiles, cooing. “See? It’s not that hard to be good, is it?” She lets out a faux sigh, tutting. “I don’t understand why some sluts just can’t get it into their dumb little brains that it’s better to behave.”

Neither of you say anything, the silence heavy; you have nothing to say, no retort at the tip of your tongue. Your whole being is zero-d in on Val as she instructs Thor to shed her of her black, lace panties – but not before making him leave a kiss there.

“You’re going to eat me out,” she says, backing up against the wall. “But remember, you’re not allowed to touch me unless I tell you. And good little whores do as they’re told, isn’t that right?”

You can see Thor swallow around his heavy tongue, eyes blown with lust. “Yes, Daddy. Good little whores follow instructions.”

Valkyrie just smiles. “Good boy. You may begin.”

Thor dives between her thighs without hesitation, Valkyrie moaning unabashedly as he licks at her clit, drinking her juices like nectar from a forbidden fruit.

“Is it turning you on?” Valkyrie laughs as you whine from your place across the room. “Watching my boy eat me out against a wall?”

You gulp and nod best you can, desperate to please.

“Good girls don’t like this kind of stuff,” she says, lips curled into a fake smile. “But you’re not a good girl, are you?”

You’re nearly shaking as she moans, pressing her center further against his face.

As soon as he’s given permission Thor throws one of her legs over his shoulder as he spreads her folds with one hand and grips her hip with the other.

“Aren’t you a good little slut,” Val murmurs, pushing Thor’s hair from his face.

He moans, eyes screwed shut. His hand leaves her hip to push one, two fingers into her. “Yes, Daddy, I’m your slut.”

Val’s own screams are broken, loud – he’s excellent with his hands and finds that spot inside of her easily, coaxing her to her peak with ease. As she comes down from her high, panting, Thor looks up from her legs, silently begging for praise with glazed-over eyes.

She grants it to him when she catches her breath, rewarding him with sweet low words that melt like butter on Thor’s golden skin.

“Such a pretty boy for me, aren’t you?” she coos. “So well-behaved for your Daddy, so good at following instructions and making Daddy feel good.”

You growl silently from your place on the floor as praises fall easily from her lips, wishing you could get that same treatment. You know you don’t deserve it, especially after the stunt (or stunts) you pulled tonight. Still, you wish you were the one on your knees, being coddled by Valkyrie as you gave her as much pleasure as she could ever want.

Val clears her throat one last time before speaking again, legs still a little shaky. “Now, I’m going to tie you up so you can sit there, dripping, while I give my good boy whatever he wants,” she tells you, getting out the rope.

You whimper as Thor moans loudly, holding your wrists out obediently as she walks over to you.

There are times you want to push and push – but the threat of being tied up and discarded into a corner while Thor gets all the glory while you’re denied or punished (or both) further whips you right into shape. Somehow you had missed stopping at the edge, had jumped off the cliff with no parachute. So you accept your fate, wait as Val bends down to tie your wrists.

“It’s a little too tight,” you whine, flexing your hands.

“I know,” she tells you plainly. “I don’t want you running off like last time.”

By “last time” she meant one of the first times she had ever tried rope play (not only with you, but in her life). As many inexperienced riggers have undergone, she looked up mid-orgasm to find that you had wriggled your way out of your bounds and were able to get yourself off. She was mad at you, of course – wouldn’t let you live it down despite how long it had been since that night.

She was mad at herself, too, though. Valkyrie is not a woman who enjoys feeling as if she has failed, especially when it comes to you and Thor. The sight of you writhing freely on the plush carpet in pleasure instead of tightly wound while a vibrator was placed just out of reach was something Val had thought about for weeks before she had found a night with enough time for the precise execution she felt necessary.

All three of you were sitting on the floor of the bedroom. She had Thor hold you as she followed the instructions she had memorized, eyes trained on the rope as she weaved intricate, functional patterns over your skin while she tied a vibrator in place. You struggled the whole time, but Valkyrie didn’t mind. She liked it quite a lot, actually – always revels in how your will to fight never ceases but your ability slowly surrenders to whatever bonds or complex mental game she had set for you.

She was fucking Thor with the new dildo she’d bought for his birthday when she heard something she knew she shouldn’t: you, moaning. Not whimpering, not whining, but moaning. Without regard to how Thor felt about the matter she pulled out so she could see why you were making noises associated with unfettered pleasure instead of merciless teasing.

She found you, fucking yourself against the vibrator with eyes rolled to the back of your head.

Valkyrie shudders at the thought, at failing once more. For her, falling short has never been an option – in academics, in her professional life, and, now, with you.

So she checks the ropes, then rechecks them, before leaving you on the floor alone once more, allowing her to return to her other, more obedient lover with the security of knowing your arms and legs are bound.

Thor watches the woman’s every move, still on the floor but holding infinitely more freedom than you do. His eyes are glued to her form, watching her like trapped prey watches a predator as it awaits its impending death.

Then again, is Thor prey? Is he the one tied up, awaiting judgement day? Or is he the sweet little pet of some apex predator who sees the ocean floor she prowls as a playground.

“What do you want, baby boy?” Valkyie asks, trailing her perfectly painted almond-shaped nails against his chiseled chest.

Thor gulps before answering. “I, I want you to ride me, Daddy.”

Without further discussion, Val grabs him by the collar and pushes him onto the bed, practically devouring him as her lips meet his. When she pulls away Thor chases her – and is met with Valkyrie’s firm hand pressing him back onto the sheets he had changed that morning.

You can see his eyes – the helpless, dazed that washes over his face as he realizes his pinned to the sheets.

“You want me to ride you, baby boy?” she purrs, teasing him.

Thor nods and stutters out a small “please,” pulling his head back to expose his neck.

Valkyrie just chuckles, moving to bite bruises into the tender skin there, still avoiding the place he wants her the most.

The man under her moans lewdly, fingers digging into the sheets with knuckles going white.

Valkyrie lets out a small laugh when she moves away – finally able to take in the most beautiful sight she’s ever seen. This is that art piece in that museum you were bemoaning earlier, the thing she made sure you’d never damage.

When she aligns his aching cock with her center you nearly explode, desperately wishing you could be riding Thor’s face or groping Val’s tits or something that isn’t you being unable to touch either of them.

The ache between your legs only worsens as you watch Val grind her hips, as you watch Thor’s large hands grab everywhere he can.

“You want to come inside me?” she asks, breathless as she fucks herself onto your shared lover’s cock. “You want to eat your cum from inside my pretty pussy?”

Thor groans, eyes screwed shut. “P-please, please I want to-“

“Shh,” she coos, “It’s okay, baby boy. It’s okay, just do what you wish. This is your reward.”

Thor nods, whispering a slurred “thank you” before fucking into her harder, using everything he can find inside himself to chase the ultimate pleasure.

“C’mon baby,” Val coos. She’s close, you can tell by her strained voice and God all you want is to be up there, kissing her or rubbing her clit or doing anything to help her feel pleasure.

But no – you just have to watch as her stomach contracts and Thor whines at the feeling of her orgasming pussy on his close cock, babbling as he comes with a deep groan; his whole body tensing as his eyes screw shut and mouth hangs open. Even from your shitty angle on the floor you can tell how beautiful he looks, how beautiful they both look as they come together. You’re both jealous and remarkably happy – wishing you could be up there with them but thankful you’re so much as allowed to watch the other two people in your relationship.

It doesn’t take long for them both to dissolve into an overstimulated puddle, each of them trying to catch their breaths as you await the next stage of your seemingly-never ending punishment. It comes after what feels like forever, when Val nudges him to move over.

Thor lets out a frustrated groan but rolls over, leaving room for what the woman on top of him plans to do next.

Valkyrie moves to grab a toy and its matching harness from its special drawer in the walk-in closet, where each dildo is arranged in ascending order by size and girth with the harnesses. It was one of the chores Thor was made to do the morning after along with changing the sheets and restocking the water/snack minifridge that remained in arms reach of the bed. Valkyrie prefers a tidy home, one where she knows where everything is because everything is in its place.

Being the hurricane of a woman that you are, though, these moments of bliss are minuscule and fleeting – days full of shopping for clothes and trying dessert recipes you’d found online and annoying Thor by moving things just out of place.

It’s one of those little things you do that drives Val insane, one of the things that drives her to fuck you as hard as she currently wants to.

When she’s got the toy snug against her skin she stalks over to your place on the bed. You’re forced onto your back, knees forced to your chest to allow the woman on top of you easy access to your dripping center.

“Aw,” Val laughs. “You get so wet for me, don’t you?”

You nod, trying to give her your best innocent doe eyes. “Y-yes Daddy.”

Her smile reaches her temples as she enters you at an achingly slow pace, keeping you bent in half as she watches your face like an eagle watches a muskrat, as she watches your eyes roll to back of your head and you whine for more. “I know exactly what you want, princess. Know exactly what you need-“

She grunts as she begins to fuck into you harder, reveling in the sounds of your dripping pussy each time the toy bottoms out. It’s loud and pornographic, mirroring the depth of your moans.

“I-I-“ you stutter. “D-Daddy p-please!”

Val just smirks, reaching one hand out so she can snap to grab Thor’s attention. With no words exchanged between the two of them, he grabs the large cordless vibrator and switches it to the highest setting before handing it off.

Even if they were speaking, the screams that erupted from you as the toy was pressed to the most sensitive part of you would drown them out. Your loud babbling and the tears flowing from your face only push Val to fuck you harder, not letting up even as you squirt once, twice onto the covers – soaking the bed and your thighs and Val’s toy and her thighs and probably the mattress. She only pulls out when you beg in the broken voice she loves so much, when you finally give into her demands and apologize.

“I-I-“ you whimper, some last part of you holding out. Val knows this, knows she just as to wait one more moment before you’ll finally give in.

Still, she gives you a little nudge off the edge of the cliff. “C’mon love,” she murmurs into the sweaty skin between your shoulder blades. The contact makes you shudder, and she knows she’s got you right where she wants you. “It’s okay, just tell me what’s on your mind.”

You swallow what little spit is left in your dry mouth as you desperately attempt to speak clearly. “I, I’m sorry, Daddy.”

She smiles wide, kissing your temple. “I forgive you.”

You lay there, twitching, as Val pulls out the thick toy from your dripping center. Somehow you find it in you to choke at the empty feeling, to reach a hand out in a pathetic attempt to bring her body back to yours. It doesn’t work – Valkyrie has to put the toy in the bathroom for Thor to clean later and needs to grab water and a snack for the both of you. Still, you make small, sad noises as she walks from your shaky line of sight.

Thor does his best to comfort you, draws a lazy hand across your sweaty stomach and draws random patterns on your bare thighs. “She’ll be back soon,” he tells you breathily. You know he’s right – Val always returns back to you whether she’s traveling to the kitchen or Dubai. That doesn’t make it any easier to hear the patter of her footsteps become quieter as she leaves, though.

It feels like an eternity when she returns, holding a tray with a pitcher of ice water, cups, forks, slices of strawberry-vanilla cake Thor had made after you requested it oh-so-sweetly a day prior, had given him puppy eyes and jutted your bottom lip out. Val places the tray on the floor in front of you and him, pulling you into her lap as you two eat in silence. Only occasionally does she steal a bite from either of you, leaving kisses on random bits of skin while telling you how good you two did, how proud she is of both of you.

When you’re both finished Val puts it all aside on her nightstand, allowing you and Thor to lay down with her.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me next time?” Val asks as you snuggle into her side. Thor wraps himself around you, large body warming yours. His arms, thick as your head, are long enough rest on Valkyrie’s hips.

You leave a kiss on her bare ribs, smiling. “Not a chance.”

[pagingevilspawn]

Spin The Bottle

i’m just gonna come out and say how much i hate this one shot already because it’s seriously bad. i had it planned to be like super cute, but you guys get this so... enjoy. chapter one of LYIALG will be up on Thursday! 

a high school au one-shot

____

Josephine Wilson sat on the edge of her best friend Stephanie Edwards' bed, watching as she pulled shirt after shirt, skirt after skirt, pair of pants after pair of pants out of her closet, scattering them across the room as she threw them behind her aimlessly. It looked like a scene of out every young adult movie starring a late twenty year old trying to be sixteen. A total cliche.

"Ugh I can't find it!" her friend exclaimed frustratedly, huffing as she turned back to Jo with a pout on her face.

"Find what?" Jo asks, more focused on picking at the skin on her nails than her friends fashion moment. Damn cuticle, it wouldn't go down without it hurting like a bitch.

"My sparkly black top? You know that one? The one with the sequins and the v-neck..." she trails off in hopes that her best friend would know what shirt she was taking about.

Jo stands up immediately, looking through the closet closely and carefully, not making a huge mess like Steph.

She emerges a few seconds later, holding the hanger the top was on in her right hand with a small smirk on her face. The other girl's jaw drops wide open when she sees the item. "How?!" she exclaims. She'd been looking for the top for at least twenty minutes.

Jo just shrugs her shoulders, though it was probably due to the fact that she didn't flip the closet inside out while trying to find it. Turns out throwing clothes everywhere created and even bigger mess and wasn't helpful in the process of finding lost clothes.

Steph takes the shirt from the brunette, saying 'thank you' so many times Jo lost count. She didn't really see the big deal, it was literally just a shirt after all, but to Steph is seemed like life or death, so she took the gratitude.

The darker skinned girl shimmies out of her shirt before slipping the tank top over her head, adjusting it before turning around to face Jo, smoothing it down as she smiles. "Whadd'ya think?" she asks, spinning around.

The girl lets out a loud wolf whistle, showing her approval. She smirks, looking her friend up and down. "Jackson is gonna lose his shit." she says, referring to Steph's boyfriend, a senior named Jackson Avery, also known as the only reason they were going to the party. Having your best friend date someone a grade older had some serious perks (mainly getting into senior parties, but there were probably some other advantages too).

And she wasn't lying, Steph looked seriously hot in her figure hugging v-neck and ripped black jeans. She'd done simple makeup, but her bold red lip really stood out and made her whole outfit complete.

Snapping Jo out of her thoughts, the curly haired girl studies her, "What are you wearing to the party?" she asks, pinning back some of her baby hairs with a clip as she turns back to her mirror.

"This." Jo says, referring to her dark blue jeans and flannel she currently had on. It was comfy, and it's not like her latest foster family gave enough shits to buy her clothes that hadn't been hand me downs or from dingy thrift stores. Or enough shits to buy her clothes or give her money for them period.

The other girls face curls up, "No."

Jo quirks a brow, "No?"

"Nope, c'mon." she says, dragging the brunette back to the closet. "We're going to a senior party and you wear flannels every day. Tonight, you are gonna show off that fine ass figure of yours." Steph says adamantly, tutting at whatever clothes she didn't approve of as she flicked through the large closet.

Jo shakes her head immediately, making her almost get whip lash from how many times her head went back and forth. "No way Steph. I'm fine." She didn't want Steph's clothes. She didn't want any kind of charity or special treatment. Just because she couldn't afford 'party clothes' didn't mean she couldn't go to parties.

As if her friend read her mind, "It's not charity Jo, it's me begging you to play dress up with me." she smirks, referring to what the two did ever since they were little girls. They would steal Steph's mother's heels and prance around in them, taking bits of jewelry and piling it on their necks, arms, and fingers. Then, they would steal some of Mr. Edwards' shirts and use them as dresses for the royal ball. She misses those times, when all their worries were focused on which of their stiffed animals would be the prince to escort them during their first dance.

How could Jo say no to dressing up? For old times sake, if anything.

So, she lets Steph rummage through the closet once more, giving her full control. Jo couldn't put an outfit together for shit. Ask her a math problem, that was her area of expertise. But fashion? It'd be as useful as asking a brick wall. Actually, a brick wall might be more helpful.

Not too long after, the girl returns with a deep red, slightly ruffled tube top and black ripped jeans similar to her own.

"No way!" Jo exclaims once she sees the top. Sure, it was cute as hell, but seriously, how many times would she need to pull it up throughout the night? Nothing was more awkward looking then watching a girl pull up her top from under her armpits.

Because that was definitely attractive.

"Yes way!" Steph claps back, tossing the items directly at the brunette as she struggles to catch them. Oh yeah, another thing she was terrible at, sports.

"Pleaseeee," she begs, giving Jo her best puppy dog eyes, that she knew she couldn't resist.

Jo opens and closes her mouth, looking more and more like a fish every time she did so. "I don't have the right bra." she argues back lamely, but it wasn't too far from the truth. She'd seen most girls wear either a strapless or lacy bra underneath. She had neither.

"It's padded on the inside. You don't need one." the other girl argues.

To Jo that sounded even more uncomfortable, but she wasn't going to put up a fight now. It wouldn't be of use anyways. Steph would win either way, especially if she used those damn eyes again.

Steph was like her sister, so how was she supposed to say no to her sister?

Jo grumbles something inaudible before making her way into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. She slips off her shirt and bra, sliding on the red tube top, thanking the universe that her and Steph were the same size, so it wasn't to big nor too small. She shimmies on the jeans, once again thankful that both her and Steph were size 2's. She honestly hated belts with a passion.  

She pats down her outfit a few times, straightening out any crinkles, making sure that she didn't smudge any of her makeup as she pulled the top on. She honestly couldn't do makeup for shit, but she was proud of the minimalistic look she was able to pull together, which consisted of a cheap foundation and concealer, some nude eyeshadow, mascara, blush, and that was it. She was much more focused on trying to save for college than pay for makeup.

When she walks out of the bathroom Steph squeals, making Jo plug her finger's with her ears. The girl could squeal, she'll give her that.

"You look hot Jo." Steph says.

"Yeah yeah. Are we gonna get going, because i'm pretty sure we're already twenty minutes late." the brunette says, combing her fingers through her hair as she glances at the clock, which read 10:27. The party started at ten. Definitely late.

"Let me do this one thing," Steph says, dragging Jo to her vanity and sitting her down on the chair. "Eyeliner." she says, holding up the small tube of black liquid eyeliner.

"Fine." Jo huffs, closing her eye's as she feels the makeup get placed on first her eyelid, then the corner, letting Jo know that her friend was doing a wing. She was glad Steph was practically the queen of eyeliner and only needed to do it once because she wasn't sure how much patience she had in her to sit around. It'd been a rough Friday and all she really wanted to do was drink a beer and maybe make out with a hot guy.

After she opens her eyes she barely has time to say anything before she feels smearing on her lips, letting her know that Steph was putting lipstick on her. She doesn't remember agreeing to it, but again, sisters.

When she gets a chance to look in the mirror she sees that her lips were now a baby pink, the creamy lipstick was smooth and had a nice smell (a huge advantage in her book) and her eyeliner was done to perfection. Thank god for Stephanie Edwards.

The two smile at each other, "Ready?" the darker skinned girl asks just as Jo is about to leave the bedroom.

"Jacket!" she says, slapping a hand to her forehead, barely noticing how a cropped black jean jacket was heading her way before she ends up getting hit straight in the face.

Jo mumbles a thanks as she slips the jacket on, immediately feeling warmer now that her arms were covered. They pair walks down the stairs, saying a brief goodbye to Mrs. Edwards with a wave as they head out the door, making their way to Steph's car.

Steph slides into the driver's side and Jo into the passengers, blasting music all the way to the Avery house, a large white McMansion that already had a multitude of cars parked outside it. The girls get out of the car and walk up to the house, where they can hear techno music blaring from inside. They knock on the door, thinking it would be pointless until none other than Jackson himself pulls it open, greeting them both with a wide smile, jaw nearly dropping to the floor once he sees his girlfriend.

"Might want to close your mouth Avery, wouldn't wanna catch flies." Jo teases, patting the man on the shoulder twice before making her way to the kitchen and grabbing an unopened beer from the fridge. She pops off the top and takes a long sip, immediately feeling relieved as the liquid slides down her throat.

She leans against the counter, sipping on her beer as she watches the party move around her. She wasn't really a party girl. She'd rather spend her nights studying and reading than in crowds, but she had a total of three tests that day and she felt like letting off some steam, and what better way to do that than hang at Jackson Avery's house?

But seriously, partying really wasn't her scene. Sweaty bodies grinding on each other with their alcohol soaked breaths never seemed to be of much interest to her.  She makes small talk with Lexie Grey, one of her closest friends as they watch their surroundings, complaining about school and whatever comes to mind.  

She's not sure how long they talk for, but she assumes that it's been awhile because before she knows it, Steph is dragging both her and Lexie by the arms up the stairs. "Spin the bottle!" she says, tipsily tripping as she makes her way up the steps.

The other girls exchange glances, but turn back and enter the room Steph was dragging them into, finding to be filled with seniors Jo recognized for the most part. Meredith Grey, Cristina Yang, Derek Shepherd, Owen Hunt, Callie Torres, Mark Sloan, Arizona Robbins, Alex Karev, and Jackson Avery sat in a circle, a single beer bottle in the middle of them all.

"I didn't think people actually played this game..." Cristina mumbles, loud enough for everyone to hear, making them murmur in agreement. Jo took a seat next to Lexie, who was next to her boyfriend Mark. She felt a bit out of place, but decided to suck it up. If the game was as entertaining as they made it seem in movies and TV shows then why not enjoy it.

"Shush Yang. Just for that you're going first." Jackson smirks.

The raven head's mouth drops open, groaning before mumbling things incoherently under her breath before speaking up, grinning devilishly. "Fine, but one rule..." she looks around the circle. "You gotta make out with your person." she bites the inside of her lip.  

"Unless you feel completely uncomfortable with it." she finishes, knowing that she wouldn't really want to make out with a certain person she called Evilspawn.

A few people give cheers of approval while others moan. This was going to be interesting. She spins the bottle, the cluster of students watching it spin around and around before it lands on Meredith, her best friend.

The guys of the group cheer loudly (mostly Alex and Mark) as the two make their way to each other before crashing their lips together, laughing as they make out sloppily, much to the amusement of the others. Even Jo had to admit that watching the two women struggle to keep a straight face was quite amusing.

Maybe this game wouldn't be so bad after all.

____

So far the group had been playing for about thirty minutes and things had definitely gotten interesting at moments. When Derek landed on Mark the whole room bursted into laughter, Meredith and Cristina pulling out their phones to video the moment. The two men cringed, scrunching their faces up as they straightened their posture before pressing their lips as far out as they would go, only getting a small peck when their lips touched, but that was enough for them to wipe at their lips furiously and start trying to cleanse their mouths with beer. Men.

It was Arizona's turn and she watched the bottle spin around when it eventually lands on Alex, making him try to hide a chuckle, knowing she was a least hoping for a girl.

"I won't kiss you Robbins if you don't want me to." the man says sincerely, making Jo look up from her fingers, a bit surprised. The Alex Karev she'd heard about was a complete ass.

Arizona shrugs it off, her blonde hair bouncing. "Nah, there's a first time for everything right?" she smirks. "You know Karev, you'll be the first guy I've ever kissed." she says, making him nod.

"Can't say you'll be the first girl i've ever kissed." he retorts, making her smack his shoulder.

"Shut up. Okay. Be nice." she reprimands him, leaning forward without warning and capturing her lips on his, holding it for five seconds before pulling away.  

Alex raises his eyebrows, he was expecting a peck, but that would work too. "So?..." he trails off.

She shrugs her shoulders, "You're a good kisser." she licks lips. "But girls taste better." she smirks, earning a round of applause and laughs.

Alex chuckles and spins the bottle not longer after Robbins takes her seat, Jo watching it spin around and around until it lands on... her? She hadn't been landed on yet, so it was a bit of a surprise.

The man sends her a crooked smirk as she gets up from her spot relatively nervously before sitting in front of him. Okay no, she was actually really nervous. She didn't know much about Alex Karev other than the fact that he had slept with a good amount of the school and broke lots of girls hearts by not calling them back. He'd kissed a lot of girls, what if he thought she was a terrible kisser?

Shut up Jo-, she's immediately cut out of her train of thought by the man's lips on her's. She was stoic for a split second, before kissing him back, the kiss quickly going from soft to passionate as they feel fire build in the pit of their stomach.

They both forgot everything in that moment, where they were at, who they were. The noise around them faded out until it was just the sounds of their lips moving against each other hungrily, trying to taste as much of they other as they could.

They eventually pull back for air, remembering where they were and that all eyes were on them. Jo blushed at the sight but looked back to Alex, who's eyes were shining with a lust she'd never seen anyone wear before. Alex on the other hand, doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered as he stares at her first in bewilderment, trying to figure out what this girl was making him feel, then smirks, pulling her onto his lap and into another breathtaking kiss. She grips onto his hair as his hands roam her sides.

She knows that this wasn't a part of the game, but she really couldn't care less. Alex Karev could kiss her like that for as long as he wanted.

He knew it was only supposed to be one kiss, but damn, this girl he'd only seen a couple times from the distance was making him want her more and more with every movement that her lips made on his.

He pulls away for a split second, looking at the group who was staring at the pair with wide eyes. "I'm not planning on stopping anytime soon, so somebody take her turn." he mutters gruffly before kissing her once more, slipping his tongue into her mouth as they fight for dominance.

And let me tell you, they definitely did not stop anytime soon.  

[alias-b]

sins of my youth. 017

Billy Hargrove x OC! Evie Fenny~ Also posted to my AO3

Summary: It was common knowledge that Billy Hargrove hated Hawkins. Hated Cherry Lane. Even loathed the strange girl next door. Evie Fenny wasn’t too fond of the chaotic Cali transfer either. An awful high school tradition sparks a chain of events that changes everything, ultimately bringing two frayed souls together.

A/N: New chapter! Sorry, it's late! Took a while to edit this one. Evie's birthday bash comes with a flood of feelings and heavy smut! Billy struggles with his heart when emotions get too real. xoxo

Ask box & Tag list are both open!! Come and chat with me after! :)

Chapter 17: Heart-Shaped Shadow Box

   Monday was strange. News spread like wildfire. Carol Perkins and Evie Fenny had a civil interaction. See it and be amazed. All’s well in the animal kingdom again.

   Order restored. Clouds opening. Roll on snare drum followed by velvet curtains.

   Even the snow was thawing to wet slush.

   It all happened at Tommy’s dented locker near the English hallway’s corner. Evie stopped. Hit her mark flawlessly. Found the light. Flashed a pleasant smile which earned Carol’s lip twitching in response.

   And the crowd went wild.

   “Tommy and I are sitting with you. At lunch. Might want to warn Steve and Heather to put the claws away. We’ll come bearing gifts even. Well...promises of gifts we'll deliver on later. Not school-friendly.” Carol fished for a pack of mints in Tommy’s pocket. This was clearly not up for debate.

   “Consider it an early promise for your birthday.” Tommy had added with a beam of teeth.

   “Sure. Cool. See you guys.” Evie held a book to her chest and continued to her locker. Switching items around before she went back to meet Billy at his. Spotted the faded leather of his jacket and ducked a little to sneak upon him.

   A feline on the prowl ready to overtake the dominant male lion.

   "Did you know you're the only girl around here who doesn't cover herself in that Love's Baby Soft crap? The grown woman perfume gives you away, chica." Billy spoke without turning. Evie's made an annoyed sound and dropped her shoulders, inches behind him. "Not a complaint. I like the thrill of it."

   Blue eyes peered to see her there and Evie got the urge to stick her tongue out as a child would. Didn't want to tempt Billy though. Or did she?

   "Yeah, yeah." Air blew a curl from her face. One shoulder nestled into the locker next to him. “Feels weird today.”

   “You’re not getting into a fight for once.” He remarked, smacking metal shut to lean back against it while the student body bustled along. Eyes slipped down and Evie pouted, straightening.

   "My eyes are up here, Hargrove." Two fingers rose to gesture at them.

   Little extra work put into her eyeshadow and lipstick today. Little extra time picking out outfits that weren't for Fredrick. Can't go wrong with a loud print that looked like it was out of a creepy hotel's carpet. Or a short skirt with her tights. Evie felt especially positive about her body today.

   She didn't eat anything bad this morning. See. She was getting better. She was stopping because she was in control and could stop this sickness at any time she wanted.

   "Sure. I'll get there." Gorgeous lashes batted to knock the wind out of her, but Evie puffed. Billy's gaze lifted, flicking with amusement because she was too easy to rile up. Too easy to get blushing. "Must feel weird," he'd repeated, "no battle."

   “That could be. Farewell badass reputation. I knew you all of two days.” She sighed for dramatic effect and he actually smiled, head shaking before an arm swept around Evie’s shoulders. Pulled her taut and flush into his fire.

   For once, she didn’t look at anyone else.

   Leaned into Billy and walked along as if she was meant to be there.

   As if they didn’t look funny together.

   That was a beautiful thing this morning. Something that made her feel full and in control.

   “Weirded me out when Mona let me in to collect Max and you three were snoring on the pull-out.”

   “Sweet that you carried Max home.” Evie teased. “What a good big brother you are.”

   “Yeah, just when I warm up, she edges off me.”

   “How’s that?” Evie peered up at his face.

   “Don’t know, she hasn’t been her annoying self. Growing up or whatever. Might be all her friends.” Billy only shrugged. “Snappier at me. Quieter. Guess I deserve it. She stays out of dad's way, but he has an opinion on everything she does.”

   “She’s a teenage girl. We all have our moments. I'm sure it's not easy for either of you.” They turned down another hallway. Billy stiffened so she allowed him to change the subject.

   “I did have good luck on my Saturday quest.” He sounded genuinely triumphant. Lips turned into her curls to mutter. "Small victories."

   Around them, lockers shuffled and smacked about. Chattering students moved to let them pass. Evie Fenny on the arm of his royal highness, Billy Hargrove. King. What a lucky girl she was.

   If they held her echoing heart to their ears, they'd probably hear rich ocean waves. Evie wondered if Billy had reached deep within in, if he'd find twinkling sea glass and opalescent shells

   “Yeah, you were gone the entire day, where’d you go?” Evie had laughed and he stunned her with the flippant reply. 

   “Got your birthday present.”

   Evie came to a halt at the corner. Spinning to see him. Billy batted his lashes again, smirking.

   “What? It is the 27th, right? Wednesday?” He winced like perhaps he’d been wrong.

   “How and where did you get that info? And you remembered it?”

   “I have my ways, Evie.” He bit his lip. Scanned her. “Surprised I got you something?”

   A blush damned her to hell.

   “No, I just… A little.” Evie looked away at the trophy case. Saw them reflected and straightened up. Shuffling back. One hand rubbed at her collar. Illusions faded like dying lights. Too easily.

   "Well, believe it, I'm full of surprises."

   “My mom is doing something small at the salon that she thinks I don’t know about and then I’m going to Heather's. Party on a school night. Her parents are out this week so free reign in the mansion.”

   “I might have heard something about that.” Billy shrugged, peering away so she could take him in.

   Freckles stunning and sparkling crystals for eyes. Endless ocean waves under a balmy sun. Evie wondered for a moment if perhaps he was oblivious to how candidly beautiful he was some days. 

   She inched toward him. Forgot their reflection. Forgot the students with eyes that burned. Saw Billy glanced back and froze. Caught. 

   “You ever think…?” Billy gave this squint to study her there. Thought he saw flecks of gold within her eyes. Sparking at him. Drawing a charge. New stars giving birth he might be able to count if he looked deeper.

   “Yes...?” Evie hushed, just barely edged up on her toes. Billy never finished it. "I do."

   "Do? Do what?" He flushed there. Sounding vaguely drunk. Inch back toward her.

   Two magnets pining from a distance. Drawing ever nearer.

   "Think. Long and hard." It came out a saccharine whisper. “I think too much in fact.”

   He gave this dumb, little chuckle. Unable to grasp his thoughts. Unable to share them.

   “I think about things I can’t control and I get so mad.” Evie scoffed. Thought her eyes watered due to the intensity. “I can’t stop even though there’s very little I can control. It's like time and space. I can't... But, I know that, Billy, and I can't seem to stop.”

   Abrupt, she pushed up to her toes. Captured his lips. Just hard enough to make her point explicit. Hard enough to send him all aflutter. Bursting to pieces from every vein. A might wave crashed into them both. Swept them away. She stayed close enough to finish the thought. Made him drink it down.

   "And I think you're made of that same stardust." Evie swooped around him. Left Billy dizzy as the bell rang. She didn’t look back at him. Only smiled to herself and let curls bounce as she slipped off.

   Billy spun on his heel to see her. Left drunk in a billow of honey amber. A smile overtaking his expression. A warm tint in his freckles.

   He could have blamed her eyes with their hold. Could have blamed her hair and the way the light illuminated it just so. Hell, he could have blamed that damn perfume. The concoction of oils and lotions you'd find listed in an old witch's spell. Although, she was from New Orleans, so perhaps voodoo. He tried to rationalize it. Make it purely sexual. Make it rough and tumble.

   Either way, too much became clear. Evangeline Fenny was beautiful and she was going to ruin him. And Billy was going to let her do it. Any number of heartbeats it would take, he was going to succumb. This sin he'd be begging for again and again. This lovely sin that filled his soul until it burst.

   A red hot ribbon would noose his heart and twist out to Evie's own. They could sink and float and be just fine. The thought of being tethered to something tangible didn't have to feel like a cage and muzzle. It could be freeing too. Sprinkled in their signature stardust that gave it an ethereal filter. An iridescent shimmer.

   Even if it terrified him to the core.

** ** **

   Evie didn’t need to prep Steve and Heather for Carol and Tommy’s impending infiltration of their lunch table. More news in the animal kingdom.

   Princess Heather and Duchess Carol caught whispering at Heather’s locker between second and third.

   Truly fascinating. Pan in close for a better look.

   Evie passed them and could only blink. Almost running into Robin on her way to Yearbook.

   Heather and Carol standing close to each other as if they hadn’t been in a nasty fight the week before. Giggling and hushing tones. Carol traded a bobby pin from her hair for an elastic Heather had tucked into a coin purse shaped like a pair of cherries.

   That was a serious transaction in girl world.

   Carol tugged playfully at Heather's tee, hand poised to her lips to whisper before the other girl was nodding. Evie had a thousand questions but decided not to bother. Red hair swept to flick as Carol turned to go. Following Evie because they were in Yearbook together with Nancy and Jonathan. 

   Usually, they sat across the room in opposite corners. Today, they shared a table.

   “Heard the bio classes moved the dissections this year up to March.” Carol made a face and sorted through science club photos. Seated across from Evie to work on some new pages. 

   “I always skip school those days and do some make-up work later. I’ll take the grade hit.” Evie grimaced.

   “I just partner with Tommy, make him do it, and he’ll get us a solid C plus.” A shrug. Their teacher flicked on some hippy music they liked to pass the time. Lazy class. “Do a bunch of shots after.”

   “Yeah, I can’t even handle being in the room.” Evie stacked some finished sections aside. “How are things between you and Tommy?” 

   Carol peered up briefly between making little notes. Blew a pink bubble and popped it.

   “He’s still my number one slice. I don’t know, I thought he’d get weird about the whole thing. Kinda shocked me.” She mused, shifting pictures about. “I did say he’s gonna marry me one day. Pretty sure. I mean we’re plenty stupid and we fight. But, we’re allowed.”

   “Good, that’s...good.” Evie felt eyes blaring holes. Stared at the page she was reworking.

   “Feels like you got another question in there, Fen.”

   “I don’t know.” Shoulders hitched higher. Evie tucked some curls back and smacked her mauve lips.

   They sat in silence under dim fluorescent lights for a few minutes. Carol paused to apply a fresh layer of gloss in her tiny compact. Flashed the mirror at Evie’s eyes to bug her.

   “Hey.” One hand swatted aimlessly when she was blinded. Carol snickered, slapping the mirror shut.

   “You’re really into him aren’t you?” A head tilt. “Billy.”

   “Things...shifted after the dance. He asked me out. Then, I asked him out. We sorta went out together. Nothing official. I don't know what's a date and what isn't with him. I don’t. As I said, I don’t think he does girlfriends. I don’t think I'd make a very good girlfriend either.”

   “Not with that attitude." A scoff. "Have you asked?”

   “...No.”

   “You’re overcomplicating it because you have major, major trust issues, Evie.” Carol deduced easily. Too easily. Evie sat back. Opened her mouth to protest and shut it. “Billy might have issues too. But, if a guy screws up and spends two months following you around trying to make it right. Not really sleeping around. Obviously it’s crossed his mind. Just quit dragging and ask him. You might like the answer.”

   “I don’t know, sometimes I think it’s supposed to be like a fairy tale. Without all the...ugh.” Evie cringed at herself. Nails tapping the rhythm of a new song she was working on at home.

   “Make the fairy tale happen. Be like Cinder-fucking-ella. Cinder-Evie.” Carol leaned in to roll her eyes. “Evie Fenny wants romance in Hawkins. Some of us can’t even get cable, you know.”

   Evie snorted. Peered up so both of them laughed. Tension fluttered.

   “Just slam him into a wall and ask. Billy will respond to that." A wink before she got sultry. "Lick his balls or something. He’ll probably get the hint. Boys aren't complicated.”

   “Oh, god.” Evie was still giggling silently. Tried to keep it down under the music playing as students went to go develop some photos. Nancy and Jonathan saw the two and couldn’t help whispering. Odd sight. “I kinda have already.”

   “No, shit?” Carol bit her lip. "Evangeline, you absolute harlot."

   “I mean,” Evie blushed, “we’ve done stuff. Just not gone all the way.”

   “Look at you. Ugh, I know he’s good in the sack. I just do. Tommy and I even talked about it cause we’re like that. We hinted inviting him in once at a party and he was too busy mooning over you at that time.” Carol fiddled with a purple gel pen. Played coy. Tongue in cheek. “Tommy’s not bad, we get a lot of practice in though.”

   “Billy...he puts cologne or something...down there. Makes the taste weird.”

   “Uh.” Carol groaned. “You know, I bet Tommy picked up that trick from him cause he started doing it after Billy rolled in. I fucking knew that Cali boy would be a bad influence.” A sly look followed. “Evie Fenny is getting it. And she could be actually getting it if she weren’t a damn coward.”

   "I am." Evie covered her face.

   "Just..." Carol shrugged and tugged one of Evie's hands down by the wrist. Voice low. "Just think about how good it'll be when he's undressing you. Kissing your neck. And those hands. The thing he might whisper in your ear... Look at you blush."

   She released Evie with a light laugh, continuing.

   "Don't make it rocket science. Ask him. Get the orgasm you deserve, Evie. That's my motto."

   “Not terrible... We get heated and during times I’m actually about to tear his clothes off, we keep getting interrupted. It’s like some evil force is against us. I don't know, I still get weird when he touches my body and I'm trying to stop.”   

   Carol only flashed her teeth.

   “Maybe your luck will improve. Burn some more incense.” 

   Evie only hummed in response. They mulled over pages again. Traded images to find the perfect shots.

   “Gonna ask you something, you don’t have to answer because it’s stupid.” Carol’s voice dimmed. Eyes unable to raise for the first time as she tapped her nail. “Do you, like, miss him at all? You know who.”

   Evie blinked at her.

   “That’s not stupid... Ah, sometimes. I don’t think it’s exactly him I miss. Maybe just the good times we did have. Talking. Feeling important and indispensable to someone. The times he held me or gave me things or included me in his life as if I could actually fit. Maybe it was wrong and fake, but he saw something in me and he wanted that to love him back. I’ll bet it did if anything.”

   “Oh.” Was all Carol said, nodding. “Did he put those bruises on you last week? Tommy saw you.”

   “Yeah,” Evie cleared her throat, “and Billy found out. He’d picked up some stuff beforehand. I tried to end it and Fredrick didn’t want to and then he got scared. Tried to scare me which got violent. But, Billy, ah...beat the shit out of him.”

   “I think Tommy would have done the same...if he had a chance. He talked about it. Jumped right into macho man talk when I...when I told him. Looked like he might cry when I told him how long it really went on. He believed me and my own mother didn't.” Carol exhaled a sharper breath.

   "She didn't want to hold the blame," Evie piped up. As if she knew the horrible truth of motherhood and life and what colors should never go together. How some women weren't meant to be mothers and some women weren't meant to be daughters either. "Some mothers...they can't handle the fact that maybe they brought the monsters home. They were blind. Not all of them manifest under our beds, they get put there by people we trust."

   "Miss Mona have bad boy luck?"

   Evie peered aside.

   "You could say that." She paused and had this brief moment of repetition and ferocity. Repeat something. Believe it. Harder each time. "My father though, he loves me. More than anything. He'd be here right now if he could. He would. I made him so happy." This almost manic smile tugged her lips desperately. Carol saw a flash that resonated, but Evie snuffed it. "I bet Tommy is doing what he can to support you, even if he's a little lost about it."

   “These boys. Acting like they can chase all our demons away or something. Scared when we try to do the same for them.”

   “Right. Our demons aren’t remotely tackled, they’re mildly concussed.” Evie agreed. Softer eyes lifting again to meet Carol’s across the way. “I guess trying is what matters most though.”

   They both seemed to accept that gentle sentiment.

** ** ** 

   Mona Fenny was terrible with surprises. Always giddy and singing along to music to drown that out. Bopping against the wheel as she drove Evie into the salon. Parked around back, smiling bright.

   “You go on first, baby. I gotta get some bags out of the truck.”

   “Oh, boy.” Evie pushed out. Mona plucked her from school early that Wednesday. Made her gussy up a little extra. Red sweater dress with a black belt. Gold glitter over her smoked eyes. Red lip to match. Pretty patterned lace tights and boots. Green bomber pulled close, she trudged inside. Through the backroom and out into darkness. 

   Lights flicked to blind her. Spots dancing.

   “Surprise!” A chorus of sing songs. Music picked up. Dolly Parton of course.

   Evie plastered a smile and gawked as if she hadn’t expected it. All the salon ladies. Heather. Susan and Max. Claudia offering a cake decorated with pink and periwinkle buttercream flowers. Candles dancing.

   Evie closed her eyes and made a wish she held close to her heart before blowing them all out in one go. This one would come true.

   “Thank you, ladies.” Evie peered around at the salon decorated in gold streamers.

   “Lets get some cake passed around now. I’m sure these girls have some excitement planned.” Mona clapped her hands and ladies dispersed. “We’ll do gifts and our dinner this weekend. You’re eighteen and you don’t want to spend the night at your mother’s salon.”

   She kissed Evie’s cheek and licked her thumb to wipe the pink print aside.

   “Thank you, mom,” Evie felt something heavy in her gut, “I love you.” Mona was trying so hard to make this nice for her. One day. Then she'd disappear back into her slinky dresses. Into her work. Into those adult parties. Into another man's arms. Away from Evie and whatever glimmer in her daughter's soul was so frightening.

   “I love you. Go sit. We’ll bring the cake over.”

   Evie crossed to Heather.

   “You pack a bag? We’ll take you to school tomorrow.” She bounced in a seat when Evie nodded. “Sure you don’t want to do anything else tonight? We could see a movie.”

   “Nah, a bonfire. Roasting marshmallows. Chinese take out and wine. I just wanna hang out with my friends. Plus, it’s a school night.”

   “Ah, let loose a little. For your birthday.” Heather shrugged as slices of cake were sorted around. Max sat alone in the corner, picking at her piece when Susan left to go to Mona and chat.

   "One sec, Heath," Evie went to Max and sat down. Slow as if she'd scare the younger girl off. “Hey.”

   “Hi. Uh, thanks for having us. My mom keeps telling Mona you guys have made us feel welcome here and all.” She pulled the sleeves of her grey hoodie lower. “She gave Mona some gifts for you to unwrap later. I hope you like them.”

   “Yeah? I'm sure I will. We like you. Can’t wait to open those also.” Evie scanned her. “I had fun, you know, at the sleepover. We should have more.”

   “You don’t think I’m a dumb little girl?” Max peered up. Finally took a bite. Odd to see a growing teenage girl so disinterested in a heavily frosted cake.

   “No, you’re smarter than most of the kids at school.” Evie wondered briefly who could have put that thought in her head and made it stick. Didn’t take long to figure out who. Mad Max was being slowly worn down.

   And she was so small here. So fragile and thin. Evie couldn't help picturing a shadow looming over Max's red hair. The tiny amount of force it'd take to knock her off her feet. Neil in a drunken stupor gunning slowly for the other fresh target in his house.

   “You can come over any time. I have a lot of movies and Blue likes the attention. She's a needy little thing.”

   Max pressed her lips. Gave this small half-smile.

   “Thank you. I'd like to hang out more. I'm only friends with one girl around here and she's being homeschooled until next year."

   “Can I hug you, just as a thank you for being one of the coolest girls I know?”

   Surprise etched.

   “Okay.” Max practically threw herself into Evie’s arms the moment they set the cake aside. Thin fingers bunched up the fabric of Evie’s dress so she cupped the back of Max’s head and held her.

   “It’d be cool to have you as a sister. We could team up on Billy. My skateboard and your roller skates. I saw a pair hung up in your room.”

   “I mean, we could still do that now.” Evie laughed. Tipped Max’s chin up. “You’re gonna be okay.”

   It seemed to resonate. Heather joined them as they ate their fill of cake. Evie unwrapped a couple small gifts. Jewelry and craft supplies. Fabrics she’d wanted and makeup. 

   Heather whisked her away to Loch Nora after some farewells. They practically bounced into the big house. Ordered a ton of food before they got the fancy fire pit out back started so it’d be ready later.

   The doorbell rang.

   “Steve!” Evie perked after answering. Let him squeeze her in a hug. Practically plucked her from the floor which earned a surprised giggle.

   “Got you something, it’s small.” He smiled sheepishly and offered a little box. “You’re a tough girl to buy jewelry for even if you wear a bunch. You know that, Eves?”

   “No, I’ll wear just about anything.” Playing coy, Evie gave an endearing sway.

   “You hardly take the music note necklace off and I’ll never find earrings better than the ones you make.” He swept a hand through gorgeously styled locks. Cracked a pleased grin. "I notice things."

   “Ah. Fair.” Evie poked his chest. Heather waved when she came in from the back. “My dad got me this necklace from one of his trips. Sometimes, I’ll change it or wear something with it.” She touched the gold chain.

   “I found this at a fancy vintage joint,” Steve explained as she opened it. An ornate brooch. Stunning sun and moon. Soft expressions attached with two looping chains. Decorated in shimmering opals.

   Evie stared at it. Had this panicked thought about the one Fredrick gave her. The glittering ladybug.

   The one she swallowed that had not come out yet.

   “Do you like it?” Steve broke into her thoughts. Evie blinked and shook her head to smile.

   “It’s beautiful, thank you. I’ll pin it on my coat now.” Evie kissed his cheek and bounded off. Left Steve there to blush a sweet, dewy pink.

   More doorbells. Clicking incessantly until Steve groaned and opened it. Billy followed by Tommy and Carol coming up the path from another car.

   “Password?” Steve played his bratty self.

   Billy cocked his head and charged in to put Steve in a headlock. Messed his hair up while he got slapped at as Tommy cackled on the way in.

   “Jesus, Holloway, I forgot about your digs here. Bigger than Harrington's place. No offense.” He waltzed by with Carol on his arm. Left Steve and Billy to wrestle.

   “Hey, boys! Not on her birthday.” Heather got between them. "I agreed to this very strange joining of two groups out of love and friendship. We're all cutting the shit now."

   “He started it.” Steve shoved off and reached to ruffle Billy’s curls. Got a hard swat for it. "We're still burying the hatchet." Beating up creepy teachers brings boys together, he figured.

   Evie liked all of them, that was good enough for Heather.

   "Dick." Billy jabbed back.

   Tommy peered back at Steve. Old times. New surroundings. New mindset. The other boy shrugged at him, lighthearted.

   Evie poked her head around the corner. Blinked in surprise.

   “Hey, all… No wonder Heath ordered the entire menu.”

   “We come in peace, Fen.” Carol removed her coat and Tommy presented a couple of bags.

   “Also, we brought the wine and weed. As promised at that first lunch.”

   “I just said to get wine...but, I won’t complain. We can only smoke it outside. The smell will linger and my dad won’t like it.” Heather winked, coming to take the items. “Thank you, guys. We have food coming. Movies. S’mores for the fire pit.”

   “Look who's trying to behave on her eighteenth.” Carol winked. She shared this look with Heather that Evie didn’t notice. Billy stared at her. Watched nervous hands smooth out her dress. “Hargrove, didn’t you bring the lucky lady a gift? Be a gentleman and present it.”

   “Left it in the car.” He cocked his head, signaling for Evie to fall in stride next to him. Without her coat, she clasped her hands behind her back and followed him back outside. Down the stone steps.

   "Still weird?" Tommy came to Steve, hands in his back pockets.

   "Honestly, yeah." He nodded as Carol went after Heather out back. Both of them plotting.

   "Does suck about the princess. We know you liked her and all."

   "Ah, she's happier with Byers. Things happen. Guess it's part of growing up."

   "How about we drink a bunch tonight and start some shit over?" Tommy clapped Steve's arm, earning a cracked smile.

   "I'd like that."

   Outside, Billy and Evie crossed to his Camaro.

   “Glad you guys came. Might be boring, I said nothing too exciting.” She puffed cold air. Billy opened his trunk and fished for something wrapped in newspaper.

   “We...didn’t have fancy wrap so I used the Sunday cartoons. Only part of the paper I can get my dad to let go.” He winced, handing it to her.

   “No, I love the funnies.” Teeth etched at her lip. Evie met his eyes to open it.

   “It’s a little fragile.” He warned. Evie peeled the paper away and blinked a couple times.

   A thin shadow box with a tarnished black frame. Inside pinned was a luna moth. Dainty specimen all glowy in moonlight.

   “Whoa. How-?”

   “I found it in this old antique shop up in the city. Hidden way in the back. They had a bunch of them, different bugs. I don’t know, it made me think of you.” He explained. Too delicate like he might shatter. Evie ran her fingers along the frame. An object of wonder and curiosity. “Kinda strange and pretty...and you’re damn strange and pretty.”

   She gave this breathless snort. Snapped out of it. Looked up at Billy’s eyes with this vulnerable sort of expression crossing.

   “I really love it. Thank you.” Evie took his chin and kissed him. Felt that same sensation whirl that made them both dizzy.

   Billy pushed his forehead into hers. Brushed their noses and dropped aside. Let his head rest on her shoulder. She smelt the blond hair and felt it tickle her neck. One breath hitched.

   “Let’s get back. I’ll put this in my bag so I can hang it up at home.” 

   Evie held it close as they walked along. Not looking at each other or touching. They wouldn’t be able to handle it. She figured this gift is what her heart had always looked like. A deep, dark shadow box with a pretty moth fluttering inside behind glass. Waiting to be seen and admired. Waiting to flit out and feel the wind and sun.

   Going inside, she wondered if Billy had known that. If he placed their stars just so because he knew how they fit together.

   Tension sprang through laughter over take-out boxes. Trading and gorging on food while a horror flick played before them. The Funhouse. Seated on the floor around the coffee table against the sofas and chairs. Odd gathering of souls.

   Tommy was a squirmer. Kept hiding in Carol's shoulder. Steve felt himself looking around. He had his friends back and more. This could be nice again. He hadn't been social since everything fell apart with Nancy. Befriending Heather and Evie was a good start.

   Billy’s leg bumped Evie’s and she gave this blush like someone caught them being obscene. Settled into him for the last half of the movie when they were full and the night rose outside. Billy felt a spark as Evie hid in his chest at a jump scare. Chuckled to himself to play it off.

   Evie Fenny watched horror movies for a living, she just needed a reason to play dumb and get close to him. But, she wasn't gonna admit that. Being tucked under his bicep was too good.

   “Psst, hey.” Evie said in his ear. Billy slid his eyes to see the TV light play on her expression.

   On the expensive screen, a rat-like vampire snarled. Mutated and warped with saliva on his fangs.

   “Hm?”

   “That’s you.” She hitched a squeal when he pinched her side. Pulled in closer by his arm.

   Carol and Heather were still shooting each other looks. Mugs of cheap red wine got passed around. Bloomed cherries in everyone’s cheeks and mouths. 

   They gathered around the fire outside. Roasted marshmallows and lit up joints. Heather’s family had a fancy pit built into the ground and a stone seating circling it. With most of the snow gone, they all bundled up. Carol draped into Tommy as they shared a smoke.

   “Steve, eat this one. I made it special.” Evie flashed a crooked, devious smile. "For you."

   “I don’t trust you.” He laughed, opening his mouth before she stuffed it in. Marshmallow fluff covered his lips until they cackled. Steve pushed a fresh one back at her that melted chocolate over her mouth. Evie giggled and caught Billy staring as she licked her lips. Wanting to lap it up himself. 

   "Did I get it all?" Evie faced him, breaking the moment. Billy reached up with his thumb and swept it under her bottom lip. Saw her tongue shift like it might jet out before he pulled away and licked the pad.

   "Now, you did," he winked.

   At that point, Tommy and Steve caught on to Heather and Carol's little knowing looks. Took some eye-fucking to get there but they made it.

   Heather was pleasantly blazed. Leaning back with her feet up on the stone. Sighing. Evie puffed and passed a smoke back to her. Started to blow out before Billy angled her face at him. Inhaled some of the pot to enjoy it.

   "Tommy, who supplies your shit?" He hummed.

   "Hill Valley, they supply all the locals. Stoner who gave it to me swore it made you fucking time travel, I think he was right."

   "Go back in time and stop this asshole from beating my keg record." Steve snatched the joint next, gesturing to Billy. Only got a rough laugh in response.

   “So, we’re all fucked. But, I have rooms. Lots and lots of guest rooms.” Heather mused. “I’m so rich and popular, guys.”

   “We had no idea.” Carol faked a gasp. “Prissy drunk.”

   “This is so weird.” Evie rubbed her cheek, lulled into Steve so he put the smoke between her lips with two fingers. Let her inhale it before she puffed out. “All of us, I mean. It’s weird. Life sucks and we’re just like...friends now.”

   “It’s like we wasted all that time on stupid shit when we could have been doing this.” Carol decided with red eyes. Everyone nodded in response.

   Evie fell the other way and put her head on Billy’s shoulder. Slowing, they stared at the flickering fire. Smoke rising to purge whatever was here before.

   "We still gonna share a lunch table after this? Acknowledge each other?" It was Steve who spoke up.

   "Nowhere else to go." Billy reached out to take the joint from him and finish it. That was agreed upon too. Wasn't the worst sentiment at this hour.

   They came down from the wine and pot. Simmered. Put the fire out and trailed back into the house. Watched half of another movie before they started to split off.

   Steve passed out on the biggest couch so Evie covered him in a blanket. Stopped Billy and Tommy from drawing on his poor, sweet face. Gave him a kiss on the temple for good measure.

   “Think it’s time. Midnight. Happy Birthday, Evie.” Heather mashed her into a tight hug. They all left Steve to snore and wandered upstairs. Changed and washed up.

   Billy disappeared down the hall to one of the bathrooms. Evie emerged a bit later from Heather's room rubbing her nose.

   “Tommy and Carol can use this room." Heather was in the hallway gesturing. "Steve’s on the couch. Hey, Eve, you want to use the third floor? Sheets are fresh. The birthday girl should get the best and biggest guest room. Right, Carol?”

   "I couldn't agree more, Heather. We left you something special on the bed. It was too big to wrap."

   Snickering followed.

   “Sure...sure…” Evie ruffled her hair out, not listening. "Night."

   “Enjoy your present,” Carol gave this little sing-song. Arms crossing as she watched Evie climb the steps. Waited until she was gone to plant a slick high-five on Heather. “Idiots.”

   “Totally.” Heather went off to bed.

   Evie pushed the door open and jumped a mile at the same time Billy spun, dropping his shirt.

   “Oh, sorry, they said…” It dawned that Evie had just been tricked. “They told you to sleep here?”

   “Yeah, Heather said...oh.” He clicked his tongue and smiled, head shaking because he had to look away. It was all too good.

   Evie pressed the door shut and planted herself against it. Locked it idly. The snap sparked Billy to attention.

   “I’ll be having a little chat with them about this. It's...um...” She scanned him in his jeans. Saw muscles twitching under flesh. Wet her lips.

   “Yeah, I’ll be getting down on my knees to fucking thank her.” He marched over. Kissed Evie hard against the doorway then brought her flush into his frame. Hands trailing down the curve of her back.

   She hitched a gasp and got one arm around his neck. Felt about to turn the lights down. Moonlight spilled in. Full and bright. 

   Billy’s hands were under her shirt. Bunching it up. Palming her bottom. Tracing the lace edge of her underwear to playfully snap it. They stumbled around toward the bed. Evie on her toes pulled him down for more kisses. Felt like no amount would be enough.

   “Not a motel, but I think we can make this work.” Billy got pushed into the plush covers. Sat up to let Evie climb into his lap. They looked at each other. Stilling.

   "Is this okay?" She mumbled and he only nodded.

   Breathing deep until hearts pounded in perfect sync. Evie cupped his face. Opened her lips against his until Billy gave this visceral moan.

   Fingers slipped under the tee again. Squeezed her breasts. Hurried the fabric up so he could taste her skin. Evie shuddered and tipped her head back. Grinding into him. Pulling his hair because he was ruining her already.

   Because Billy Hargrove was about to be her beginning and end.

   Because she was fine with that.

   “Evie...” Billy groaned. Fingers pushing into her flesh. He sucked little flower petals into her chest. Tongued her nipples to hard, rosy buds. Evie felt one hand wander down into her panties. Cried out at the two digits that slipped against her experimentally. "Yeah?"

   “Y-Yes. Like that. You feel so good, Billy.” She attacked his neck. Kissing and nipping until his legs shook. She would ruin him just as well and he'd already tried to make peace with it.

   Billy brought his fingers up to suckle them. Shifted to wet her nipple and lick the arousal off. Two strong hands, turned them to throw her into the mattress. God, his muscles. Evie felt him crawl up her body. Hovering to just look at her with spun gold spilling around his neck and crown. 

   Felt more intimate than anything they’d done. Just looking. Taking a body and soul in.

   Billy started pulling her shirt off. Going for her panties to toss the flimsy fabric aside. No resistance followed. She wanted him to look. Wanted to be seen. Maybe it shouldn't have felt so incredible.

   Eyes watched her surrender there bathed in the moon. Evie rubbed her thighs together. Covered her breasts with her arms. Billy’s chest heaved. Mouth sweeping down to kiss her until the resolve melted. He pinned her wrists playfully and kissed down her neck, stopping to inhale that perfume.

   "You're pretty." Lips nudged her insecurities up and away. "So pretty."

   Billy brushed dark curls from her shoulders and cheeks. Began to peck soft kisses everywhere he could. Mapping her face out. Every so often she found his lips to steal one back. A soft breath grazed her ear.

   “Lemme see you, too.” Evie got a hand free and cupped him boldly. Billy jolted into her palm. Moaned. Beautiful beyond words. He let her push his pants down and stroke him. Gazes melted together and he stopped her only to toss his jeans aside, up on his knees to breathe even.

   Evie pushed up only to marvel at him. Reluctant hands lifted. Smoothing down the hard contour of his chest. The line of those hips. She wanted to map him out as well.

   "You're beautiful." She brushed her mouth against his hip. A true Eros.

   Billy combed his fingers into Evie's hair, tilting her face up so he could curve over for a lengthy kiss. Moaning when she praised him. Wordless with her simple touch. Explored all the exposed honey skin. Counting little freckles. Billy nuzzled his nose into Evie’s, pressed their heads together, and breathed her in. All of her. 

   “Gonna eat you out.” He nipped down her chest, pushing her back into the bed. Evie tensed on instinct but nodded. Wanting it. Saw those lashes flutter before he buried his mouth into her mound. 

   She cried out into her palm. Spine arching so his taut arms wound under soft thighs. Held her hips to adjust. Spread her open for his tongue. Devoured her shamelessly. Pornographically.

   Billy liked to make noise. Like to force it out of her too. He flicked his tongue inside. Lapped up toward her bundle to tease and cradle it. Slight stubble made red swatches on her tender skin.

   What did she like? What made her pray for mercy?

   It left Evie to twist around. Hands grasped for the sheets. She gave him her voice willingly. Gave him every beat and sigh and pulse. Billy made this obscene suckle against her. Crawled up with slick lips so Evie pulled him into her frame. Kissed those pink lips. Licked into his mouth. Tugged at gold locks and ran her hands along his back.

   Billy was nudging between her legs before Evie shifted so they were on their sides. Shocked him with a murmur.

   “I want to be on top first.”

   “What?” He actually laughed lightly. Pecked her mouth. “No, no, sweetheart. I’m on top.”

   “I called it first and I'm the birthday girl.” Evie pouted. Pushing him on his back playfully. Billy came up on his elbows. Brow furrowed.

   “You’re serious. But…” He sounded breathless when her hand smoothed down to stroke him. Persuading. “But, I’m the man. It’s our first time. The man’s supposed to be on top the first time.”

   “Says who? You’re so cute when you say dumb things, Billy.” Evie taunted, kissing his cheek. “There’s no rule. Maybe I wanna be the man...if you really wanna put it that way. You’ll get a turn. Maybe. You might convince me.”

   He smiled when she winked at him. Evie kept up her persuasion. Swung her leg over his hips. Kissed up his neck because she knew it would make him into putty. Billy could only shudder.

   Evie let her weight rest against his frame. Snuffed out every voice that told her she couldn't be desired and sexy. Billy moaned at the feel of her too. All of her. Grasped fleshy hips and ran his hands up sloping curves. Evie pressed into his chest, curls spilled over her shoulders.

   “I might really die if I don't feel you soon.” Billy just marveled up at her. Cupped her breasts until Evie sighed into his touch. A blush spread over her cheeks. She captured his mouth in response.

   Eyes met and she gave this little nod so he followed it. Muscles tensing. 

   “I want to feel you, too.” Evie licked her lips so they adjusted a bit together. She came up and gave him a few slow pumps. "Do you really wanna feel me, Billy?" His shaft pressed flush into her folds. Hips rocked slow. Torturing.

   Looking clouded, he nodded and tried to find some words.

   "Fucking, please. Evie." He tilted his head back. Chest heaving. “You, uh, took your pill?”

   “Like clockwork.” Evie shuddered. "I want this. You."

   Billy looked down and gave her thigh an encouraging squeeze, biting his lip as she positioned him. Starting to sink down. They both cursed aloud. Went tight after a shared quake. Evie mounted him. Let him fill her all the way up with her hands flat against his chest. 

   “That’s it. Fucking perfect.” He was muttering while she whimpered quietly. Massaging her hips so she’d relax. “You don’t have to move yet. Feel so fucking good. Look at me, Evie.” 

   She did. Darkening eyes peeking through a curtain of curls he moved aside.

   “I got you, Angel. I got you.” Billy lifted for a kiss. Bucked slightly inside her so she gave this experimental rock into him. Mouths brushed together and he whispered. “Fuck me.” 

   He begged that. Begged for her. Only her. Evie pressed him back down. Tilted her head aside at the feel of him pulsing. Started to move with some fervor. 

   Fingers squeezed her hips. Left marks guiding her into his thrusts. Both of them sinking fast. 

   “Mm, Billy.” Evie arched there against the moon and stars. Let them fill the room with her voice. She hitched a cry when he gave her ass a playful swat. Urged her to go faster. Billy wiggled and came up a bit. Pulled Evie all the way down and drank her moan into his lips.

   He held her there, biceps flexing when his hands went around her back so he sat up fully. Teeth nipped at her chest and he undulated up inside her. Took some control back.

   "H-Hey..." Evie was slipping fast. Mouth parting while she clung to his shoulders. "I'm the man."

   "It's your birthday," Billy mumbled into her throat. "Little worship is what a pretty girl deserves on her birthday. Don't you think so?"

   Fingers pushed between her spread legs. Worked her until a cry muffled into the crook of his neck. Evie curved into him. Clung. Rode him harder.

   “So good.” Billy managed again. “Pretty, pretty, pretty.” He pulled her hair. Exposed that creamy throat to his mouth once more. Tormented her until Evie’s resolve melted so he could flip them over. Another cry echoed. Hips pushing with force deep into her. She gripped his shoulders, legs curling around his hips. 

   “Billy, please…” Evie mewled under him. “More.” She tucked some blond hair aside sweetly. Both of them slicked and wanting. Connected utterly. 

   Billy was so ample with her body, chasing her fears away with his hot touch and lovely kisses. He hovered over Evie. Pulled out and looked down to where their bodies met. Loved the sight of himself disappearing inside. One hand brought her thigh higher for a better look.

   "Flexible girl. I'll keep that in mind."

   Evie fluttered around him. Reached down and touched their mixed arousal. Played with herself while he watched and started to find his pace. She licked her digits of their slick. Let him have a taste after. Billy laced their fingers and came down to watch her eyes.

   Panting. He really began to pound into her until the bed was rocking with them. A filthy sound of skin slapping together with each thrust joined their gasps. He didn't care if this whole damn neighborhood could hear them.

   “Love the way you squeeze me.” Billy’s thumb was back against her. Tormenting perfect little circles that had her whining. Evie had this out of body moment like she was watching herself writhe on the bed. Billy Hargrove fucking her stupid. Praising her. Touching her. Uttering nasty things about how she was all his now and he could spend forever making her feel so good. “Gonna come inside this sweet, little pussy after I make you quake. You wanna come for me, Evie? That’s my fucking girl.” 

   “Oh, fuck...fuck, I can’t stand you.” She tightened around him. Eyes rolling back. Relishing his touch so he sped up. “I’m right fucking there, Billy, don’t stop. Stay with me. Stay…” She cupped his face. Found those drunken lips.

   “Don’t have to stand, I,” he shuddered, “I got a perfectly good face you’ll be sitting on later.”

   Cheeky little shit.

   Evie actually laughed. Thrilled. Pulled him all the way against her body, arms under his and around his taut back. Billy stopped all the dirty talk to whimper.

   She felt so good. He didn't know it could feel this good.

   “I’m yours, Billy,” Evie decided at last with a flutter of glowing moths escaping the heart-shaped shadow box carved into her chest. Happy. She so wanted to be his. Mouth against the shell of his ear. “All yours.” Her thighs shuddered and he felt her entire body lock. A graceful arch went through it. “I’m c-coming.” Evie managed so he stroked harder. Made her gush around his cock with the sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Kept thrusting to draw it out as she squeezed him too tight. Chanting cries of curses mingling with his name. All sin.

   All his.

   Billy couldn’t even warn her. He held out as long as he could and began to fuck release inside her. Both of them wrapping tighter around each other. Still trying to rock through it like they were lying on a warm beach being caressed by sweet ocean waves. Evie sagged, out of breath as he collapsed against her body. Still rutting like an animal to finish himself. 

   Gasping, Billy came up to pull out. Watched his own release sink out of her. So fucking hot, he couldn't help pushing it back in. Evie tensed. Overstimulated when he pressed dainty kisses to her tummy and chest. 

   Blue eyes came up to meet her brown ones and something broke. Shattered. Flooded out. They both locked in to feel it. Billy looked at her and the sensation consumed him utterly. Betrayed him. He stared and couldn’t look away. Frozen. Ruined. Evie blinked up at him. Spread open and hair splayed. Reached up to caress his jaw with her brow furrowing.

   “Billy, you’re shaking.” She swallowed to catch her breath. Eyes searching him. She tipped his head forward to kiss his warm temple. Lingered with sweet promises. Both of them on fire and slicked in glowy dew. “I got you.”

   He still trembled so hard. Unable to stop. Let Evie bring his head to her collar so she could pepper more kisses into his hair and comfort him. 

   Billy stared out at nothing. Floated in this sort of subspace while Evie brought him back down to touch the Earth. Gentle as she could. They held each other there. Evie still kissing him. Petting him delicately and humming in his ear. Idly, he let his fingers whirl into her curls.

   “Are you alright? Billy?” She tried again. Massaging his shoulders while he listened to her beating heart. Something wet splashed against her neck as he shuddered. Sniffling once.

   “I just…�� He came up. Let awareness flit back. Got near silent. I think I’m happy. "I'm fine." The feeling spread a cold under his bones. "You?"

   Billy cupped her head for a lazy kiss. She smiled up at him.

   “I'm okay. Better than okay.” She soothed again. “I got you.” Naked, they wound around each other. Got under the covers and laid twisted together.

   “Evie.” Billy choked on air. Chest sinking. He had to let one truth out. Just one, he owed her that much. And it ached. “Gotta tell you something.”

   “Yeah?” She sunk into his chest. Held. Evie braced like it might hurt her too.

   “You know you're... You're the best thing about this place.” Billy squeezed his eyes shut. Let her hold him tighter in response. Let Evie give up some of her warmth to him because he needed it and she just liked to see him happy and safe.

   “I didn’t know it could feel like that.” She began, fingers making shapes into his chest. Evie opened her heart. Let him admire it. "Billy, I want to be more with you. Like...Like a girlfriend. This sounds silly. You don't have to say anything. I just...I don't want to run from you because you make me happy. I think I might make you happy too. We're... You were right about a lot. The stars and all. Despite everything, I think we were supposed to find each other and it feels good. I want to be yours-"

   Billy tilted Evie's chin up. Hushed the truths with his lips. Nuzzled her so she'd relax back into him. He couldn't reply. The syllables wrapped around his throat and choked him. And Evie trusted him. So, she didn't ask for them. That made it ache more.

   Placing her head upon his chest when they shifted again. Billy went very still. Stared at the ceiling and wiped his eyes as she dozed. Fingers combed into her hair to coax her off to an easier slumber.

   Billy just laid there. Felt numb. Felt too much. Couldn’t look down at Evie nestled into his body. 

   He stayed there two hours. So still. So lost. So found. 

   These sensations that tried to drown him. They were creeping like dark gossamer veils over his eyes. Unable to be near Evie, he eased out from under her. Rubbed his eyes. Felt like she seared his skin down to bone and marrow.

   He knew it was wrong. Knew it might hurt her. Would hurt her.

   She let him into her heart and he was running. Eros fleeing Psyche the moment she held that candle to his being and saw him for what he was. One speck of wax dripping hot upon his flesh. Blinded by that light, he probably didn't see her crying there after him. Selfish boy.

   Billy thought he would be sick. Tremored there. He just couldn't stop it. Couldn't explain it either.

   And he just couldn’t be near her anymore. Fuck.

   But, he promised. He promised her. He wanted to keep it and instead scrambled to dress. Empty eyes still staring at nothing. Billy finally peered back. Scanned Evie comfortable on the bed. He could have gotten back in. Woken her and told her that he wanted to be all hers too.

   “I’m sorry.” He whimpered.

   It hurt. It hurt too much. Billy actually had to rub his chest. Tried to numb. Tried. All this time they spent together and now he just couldn’t be near her. She broke him. Billy felt himself climbing too high. Up toward the stars. Falling to pieces.

   Aimless steps brought him outside. Into the freezing cold. Away from Evie’s touch and amber perfume. Away from this girl who gave him exactly what he wanted and it was just too much. He couldn’t hold it. Didn’t want to see it shatter before him.

   So, Billy got into his Camaro and drove off. Far away as he could to the edge of Lover’s Lake. Up a hill so he could see the quiet city before him. Evie would wake up. Feel the change that he promised he wouldn’t give her. 

   Fuck. 

   “Fuck!” Billy crumbled aloud. One fist pushed into his teeth. Quivering until the tears fell hot. Huge and wet down his flushed cheeks. Unable to stop the flow, Billy dropped his head. Began to sob louder than he ever had in his life.

   Because this would break her in turn. Validate everything horrid she thought about Billy Hargrove. Because he should have stayed in that bed mapping more kisses down her spine. Instead, he convinced himself that they weren't made of the same stardust. They couldn't be.

   Evie's heart-shaped shadow box was hung too far from reach amid untold galaxies and when Billy rose to admire it, his wings melted like Icarus before him because that's what he deserved. That was always what he knew he deserved.

   All he could think about was his mother in that tub. Neil's boot squelching his back and the meaty wack of a belt. It wasn't possible for him to be something that could be tangible and loved. Evie had been right. Stars were placed in a certain order and that couldn't change. He'd been stupid. Hopeful.

   He was the coward. This got too real and he couldn't just let himself have it.

   And what made it heavier was the pure thought of Evie waking alone to confirm her biggest fear.

   "I'm sorry." Billy kept chanting these words that were so often too difficult for him. They wouldn't stop this time. "I'm sorry..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Local boy crushed under the weight of his own emotions. Eeeep, I finally let them do the deed. Someone make them a 'congrats on your sex' cake. Please if you enjoyed leave words below or chat with me in my ask!! Thank you all so much!!

TAGGED:: @80sbxtch @nottherightseason @orxhidshavana   @alagalaska​ @alongcamedolly @kellyk-chan @10blurredsmoke10 @charmed-asylum @unmistakablyunknown @lukespatterson

[bellatrixobsessed1]

Chunky Bracelets

I was gonna only do half of this today but then I finished it.

Summary: Icy reflects on her past; decidedly, it is better to do the victimizing than be the victim. 

Self-harm mentions.

Sometimes the face reflected in the glass isn’t the one she wants. Sometimes the face in the mirror seems unnatural, like it shouldn’t be. And maybe that’s because it is. It was different some time ago...a long time ago now.

Icy rummages through her drawer and finds her favorite eyeshadow, her mascara, and her eyeliner. She draws it on thick and winged, accents her lashes, and adds a soft tint to her lips. Sometimes she chooses black or a deep navy blue, but today she is feeling for something lighter. Something like first frost on the grass. She fixes her hair into it’s high ponytail and accents it with diamonds, some faux and some real.

Her work is done. She is nothing like she was back then.

And she should be glad for it. There was nothing to like about her back then. Not her weird interests, not her awkward personality, and certainly not her looks--the way she dressed, her unkept, unwashed hair. Those ridiculous glasses and those painful braces.

She taps her eyeliner pencil against her chin; she could probably make it work now. The outfit anyhow. She thinks that her style of dress wouldn’t have been so terrible had it not clashed with whatever the hell had been going on with her face and personality.

Chunky studded bracelets clamped over blue and black arm warmers that fit too loosely around her arms paired with a ridiculously oversized muscle tank top--she can’t remember which band logo it had boasted. Ripped skinny jeans--they would have been anyhow if they weren’t so baggy on her--tucked into studded combat boots.

Yes, she could make that work now. But they didn’t sit well with braces, and glasses, and tangled hair. They were worn even worse on someone who stuttered through every conversation. Someone who rambled on about stupid things like snowglobe collections, famous brooms used by famous witches, and bands that no one else cared about.

She runs the comb through her hair until it is silky and immaculate. Until she has worked any trace of that person out with the knots. She doesn’t think about that person often. She tries to think none of her at all. Even still, after so long, and even in private solitude, it brings color to her pale cheeks.

Icy had been such an easy target, she doesn’t blame the lot of them. She wasn’t their favorite; their favorite was a short chubby girl with awful hand-eye coordination and a habit of stumbling over her own feet. But she was a good second.

They had many names for her but mostly she was a poser. A wannabe. An abomination to the punk-rock scene.

And her lyrics were just as absurd. Solstice had made that clear enough when she snagged her notebook and read them all out loud.

“Sing for us, Icy!” She shouted. “We want a concert!”

She did. She isn’t sure what she thought she would accomplish. Maybe she thought that she would have been a phenomenal singer, that she would have showed them all. And maybe she would have if she hadn’t been red-faced and anxious. Her song was shaky and off key.

She never sang again. Never wanted to.

For a time she unclasped the studded bracelets and swapped her skinny jeans for plain blue jeans. She traded her tank tops for oversized plaid sweaters in a soft baby blue. Somehow that made things worse. And of course that did. She was no longer a wannabe but a full blown dork. She supposes that at least the style had fit the person.

She picks through her closet for something to wear. She isn’t sure if she wants to go for the pastel goth aesthetics or something darker, something old school--batcave maybe. But then she’d have to break out the hairspray and style it all over again.

She transferred schools after that year. When they started throwing things at her and crafting little ornaments to hang in her hair she had requested the transfer. Her requests went ignored until she got careless--until her sleeve fell back and they found the scars.

She runs her fingers over them. Where they would be if she hadn’t tattooed over them. If she can’t see them, then they aren’t there. If they aren’t there then she never had a reason to put them there. If she never had a reason to put them there then she was never anything but suave and cool, smooth and confident.

The school that she was transferred to was smaller. Private. It wasn’t even in her home realm. She tried many styles then; one week she was preppy, the next she tried for something more sporty, and the week after that was whatever everyone else was wearing. And then she settled on simply being a punk-rock poser again. At least that took little effort and acting. There is something poetic about that, she knows.

She settles for pastel goth today, it goes well with her hair. She holds the dress against her body. Her elegant, slender body. There is a soft shimmer to her skin. Her skin has always had a shimmer to it. She studies the mirror again. Her cheeks are sculpted just as elegantly, her eyes are framed with makeup instead of glasses. Her hair falls over her shoulder in long, groomed waves. She has a pretty face. She likes to think that it is well earned.

She has earned her right to look down on the frizzy-haired and the bespectacled. She has earned her right to mock fareries that are too fat for their wings and witches that are skinnier than their broomsticks. She has earned her right to torment those who need to get themselves together.

She is glamorous. She has status. She has earned her right… And yet she feels hollow. Fake.

It is a nagging and persistent itch that is ever present each time she opens her mouth to let one of those loathsome pixies know that they are weak. She is fake. It is all a lie.

She tugs her dress on and steps out into the hallway.

“Oh perfect, you’re just on time!” Stormy greets.

“We were just reminding Mirta that she doesn’t belong here.” Darcy adds.

The girl is cornered. Icy rolls her eyes. The girl makes it too easy. Laughably easy. She is wearing Lucy’s arm warmers. She squeezes her eyes shut and covers her ears with her hands. Her fingernails are painted in an alternating red and black.

“She doesn’t need the reminder, she already knows.” Icy shrugs. “Don’t you, Mirta?”

“Y-yes.”

Icy rolls her eyes. “Then what are you doing here? This is a school for witches not, whatever the hell you are.”

“She’s a fairy in a witch’s clothing.” Stormy remarks.

“A poser.” Darcy comments, quirking a perfectly penciled brow.

A poser… Icy folds her arms over her chest.

She doesn’t think much of it throughout the day. She doesn’t think of it at all, really. Not until she makes it back to the dorm. And then she doesn’t stop thinking about it.

And the more she thinks about it, the more she thinks that she had made a mistake. She isn’t sure which kind or when exactly she had made it. But when she stands in front of the mirror and scrubs her eye makeup away, she is damn near certain that she has.

Sometimes when she stares for too long at her bare face she sees an awkward girl with glasses and braces and messy hair. And sometimes when she stares for much too long, she misses that person. That kinder person. That lanky girl with the arm warmers, studded bracelets, and oversized shirt. That stupid girl who--rather poorly--played the guitar in a stupid garage band.

“Hey.” Darcy leans in the door frame. “We’re going to the bar. You coming?”

“Let me reapply my makeup.”

“We still have to get ready too.” Stormy shrugs.

Icy wanders back to her closet. To the very back of it; he tugs on the arm warmers, clamps on those chunky studded bracelets. For old time’s sake, she tells herself.

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.14

Hunk drove a very hyper Pidge home. Letting her mix flavours had been a bad idea, Pidge talking the whole drive home so fast that Lance was surprised she was managing to drink her slushies in between her words. Promising his best buddy he’d fill him in the following morning, Lance felt a little awkward as he let him and Keith into his empty house. His beloved bronco wasn’t back yet, Shiro extremely lucky Lance didn’t have his phone number to hound him about taking care of his baby girl. Hovering at the base of the stairs, both men stood their awkwardly. Lance feeling weird as he knew he needed to say something, but wasn’t sure what that something was. Playing it safe, he opted for an apology. Keith’s life had been thrown in turmoil, just like Lance’s, and the man clearly missed his brother, something Lance couldn’t make better for him. Maybe if they’d met when in college, he and Keith could have been friends. Keith’s anger clearly stemmed from trauma, his repeated fixation on thinking he’d been turned very clearly said that. Lance had the feeling is had something to do with whatever happened to Shiro’s partner, but he wasn’t in the position to pry.

“Hey. I’m sorry we dragged you out. I know I was kind of a pushy, and you can probably put that down to my people pleasing personality, but I hope some part of tonight was enjoyable. It’s no easy, or fun, being on the outside, but Hunk and Pidge are good people. I’m not just using them to blend in, it was never like that. They’re both special to me. I know we’re like strangers and it’s awkward as hell living together, but I think after tonight I like you a little more than I did. I don’t think you’re a fundamentally bad person, and I’m not going to push you to talk to me. I guess what I want to say is, that I swear on Blue I’m not in the habit of hurting people. That doesn’t mean much coming from a vampire, because honestly, most of us are huuuuuuge douche canoes. But as long as you’re under my roof, I’m going to treat you like an actual human being, and not as “Keith the hunter”. I don’t know how many times I can apologise for being what I am, but I’m too much of a coward to off myself. I thinking part of my emotional growth was stunted from being turned... and, well, yeah. I’ll let you head to bed or whatever. If you can’t sleep, help yourself to whatever. I would prefer you stay out of my office for the sake of my clients, but I know you can get in there anyway... yeah... anyway, I’m headed up to bed... I’ll see you in the morning”

Lance’s undead heart leapt when Keith opened his mouth, only to fall when Keith closed his mouth and looked away. He’d probably said too much again. He was trying so damn hard, and he wasn’t exactly sure why it even mattered. Until Shiro came back, both he and Keith were left in limbo... Lance still kind of hoped that Shiro leaving Keith with him meant the older hunter wasn’t about to come for his head in the middle of the night, and that some time apart would make it easy for Shiro to see his brother was very much the human idiot he’d always been.

“How old are you?”

Lance nearly dropped the remnants of his slushy in surprise. Strawberry hadn’t been the smartest choice. Pidge had teased him about looking like a vampire for having red around his lips, and all over his teeth. Honesty was best when dealing with people in trauma

“I’m 44. In human years”

“Okay”

That was it. The limit of Keith’s vocabulary for the night. The hunter trudging towards his room, leaving Lance to walk up the stairs to his own. Stripping down and changing for bed, Blue let out a rumbled purr as she came running into his room and leapt up onto his bed to wait for him. He really must look like the lamest vampire Keith had ever met. Just a lonely vampire and his cat, living in the middle of nowhere. It was a good thing Lance didn’t mind being lame.

*

Lance’s dreams were horrible. He’d woken half a dozen times unable to escape the feelings flowing through his body. His teeth hurt, cutting into his lip as he huddled against his bedhead. He felt flushed with fever, arm aching as if he’d broken it. The skin had healed over the wound, but it itched so badly Lance wanted to scratch until it bled. Shivering and sick, he’d fallen back to sleep around dawn, waking with a throat feeling as though clogged with his death soil. Blue hadn’t left him, though that might not have been her choice given the door to his bedroom was closed, instead of slightly open so Blue could come and go as she pleased.

Showering only made Lance feel worse, he couldn’t get the temperature to cooperate and nearly tore the tap handle off it’s fitting trying. He ended up feeling like soggy cardboard, all wet and useless, as he towelled off and peered in the least cracked slither of mirror left. Today was definitely a day for make up. No amount of blood was going to bring back colour into his dulled skin. Being the youngest, he’d spent many a time as his older sister Rachel’s model. Mami had beaten her arse red on more than one occasion when Rachel had tried using nail polish as eyeshadow... his sister not the most skilled person to be giving anyone a make over, but his other sister Veronica had grown out of all of that kind of thing by the time Rachel had gotten old enough to be right into all frilly girly things, leaving Lance to be her victim repeatedly. After he’d turned, all of that had stopped. Initially his Papi would gently send everyone away from him, until his Mami took him by the ear and reminded him that though different, Lance was still their baby boy. When he’d been older his Papi apologised, but he never knew how good a vampire‘s memory was, that those days still stayed with Lance no matter how many years had passed. Today was not the day to be looking like a movie extra in a budget film, his whole face felt choked as he smeared his foundation on, before giving his lips a quick coat of waterproof lipstick, though humans had never really got the recipe for that right. Continuing his morning routine, he dressed as nicely as he could shirt wise, then opted for sweats on the bottom. It wasn’t like his conference call was going to be worried about his lack of proper attire when his shirt looked professional enough.

Coming downstairs, Lance darted through to his office, teeth aching all over again as he opened a bag of blood, messily drinking down the contents like he hadn’t been fed for days. Coran had said to expect a low, but this was nearing ridiculous. He wasn’t in any fit condition to entertain Keith with half hearted fighting, let alone provide legal representation to the clients trusting him in. Spilling blood across his laptop came as the final straw, Lance sinking to the floor where he balled himself under his desk, to scared to call Coran, and too scared to sit up and human. Instead he remained hidden there until his laptop started to ring, letting him know he’d spent a good three hours wallowing rather pathetically.

Before the family court, the matter took all of 15 minutes. Lance speaking smoothly, as he bounced his left leg, hands digging into his sweats hard enough that his nails had ripped through. Things would have been different if he’d known he could jump in his car and straight up to Platt, instead of this horrible feeling like he was a prisoner in his own home. The little voice in his head mocked him for not being able to pick up his phone and call Coran, paranoid over how Keith would act if Coran came running because he couldn’t keep his shit together. He didn’t want to die. Not while his Mami still lived. He didn’t want to break her heart, or prove the rest of his siblings right. He didn’t want Coran to be hurt, not that he thought Keith had the power to take Coran down... it was just... sometimes words left a wound that even the deepest blade was left dull in comparison. Keith was lashing out, hitting that target without aiming, like being caught in a spray of bullets. Coran didn’t deserve that with all the good for Lance and those like him. For Keith’s sake, Lance needed to keep all this shit secret. The hunter had signed up for his head, not his sob story.

Leaving the office, Lance headed into the kitchen. Keith at the kitchen bench trying to figure out the coffee machine. Dropping the pod in his hands, the hunter picked it back up without saying anything, but he didn’t need to. Lance knew how weak and pathetic he was, he could see it reflected in Keith’s brilliant eyes. Wordlessly he went to the cupboard, pulling out a can of wet food for Blue, Keith taking half a step away from him as he did. It stung. The not so covert action rubbed him the wrong way, not that he’d say so out loud. Pulling the ring tab back, Lance stubbed his toe on the counter as he reached for Blue’s dish. The act bringing tears to his eyes as he finally broke. Sinking down to the floor, he was showing Keith the most shameful side of him that he humanly could.

“Do you take sugar in your coffee?”

The question hung in the air, Lance’s face hidden behind his hands as he wept.

“Lance, do you take sugar in your coffee?”

Keith had said his name. Without any malice or prompting... he didn’t understand why

“I take three usually”

Why was Keith talking to him?

“Shiro says it too many, but I like three. You seem more like a one person”

“A one person”. Keith, who didn’t even think of him as human, was there in his kitchen calling him a person

“Am I really so useless that you’re wasting time on me?”

Lance regretted the harsh tone in his words. Wiping at his teary eyes, he looked up at the hunter to find him looking down on him

“Well you’re practically an animal, but... I think maybe I don’t hate you as much as I should”

Laughter bubbled up, Lance not blaming Keith for stepping back as his tears turned to laughter

“You can go fuck yourself if you’re going to be like that”

Lance’s laughter sobered, the vampire sniffling loudly. Okay. Keith was acting “Keithy” again, he could understand that

“One. Two if Pidge and Hunk are here”

Keith took a moment before a silent “oh” of realisation formed on his lips, turning back to the coffee machine as he tried to fit the pod in properly

“I... I have nightmares too”

Lance cringed. Asleep he hadn’t been able to consciously hold back. Keith had probably heard him screaming the house down, now taking pity on his undead arse

“I heard you calling for someone... friends or something. You we’re really fucking loud”

“I’m sorry”

“Who were they?”

“People who don’t matter”

They didn’t matter but that didn’t mean they weren’t always on his mind

“Nyma and Rolo?”

Lance shuddered at their names. They’d parted so long ago that it didn’t feel fair he should be forced to remember them

“People you don’t want to meet”

“I gathered from your screams. Are they the ones who turned you? Or were they friends?”

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“You say vampires never forget, does that mean you remember what happened with them?”

Lance shook his head quickly

“I don’t want to talk about it”

“So they sired you?”

Lance put his hands over his ears

“Shut up”

“If they did...”

“Shut up! Just shut the fuck up!”

Screaming in anger, Lance hated Keith in that moment for pushing. Nyma and Rolo had been his friends. The keyword being “had”. He was allowed to have things he didn’t want to talk about. Those two were in his past, not is future. Letting his head dropped back, it smacked against the cupboard without enough force to be satisfying. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to break something. He wanted to tear himself out of his own skin. Nudged with Keith’s foot, he shot a look of rage up at Keith, the hunter holding out a cup of coffee

“Drink this. Shiro said he won’t be back for a while, but he was sending someone out to watch over you until he could be”

“I don’t need watching over”

Taking the coffee cup, the handle snapped before Keith had let go completely. Pulling the mug back, the hunter cut his hand on the protruding porcelain at the bottom. Hit by the smell of Keith’s blood, Lance felt all his senses come alive with the need to feed. Both their eyes widened as they met, both in fear over the situation. Keith feared Lance was about to maul him, as Lance feared how good Keith’s blood smelt.

Lance did the only thing he could do. He ran. Keith left staring as he bolted from the kitchen, his hand snapping through the bottom of the staircase railing as the grabbed it to use his momentum to get up his stairs just that little bit faster, tripping in his rush, but pushing himself on faster in the same heartbeat. Reaching his room, he slammed the door behind him, dragging his dresser over to barricade himself in. He hadn’t needed his phone in the office, so left it up on its charge station. Snatching up the device, he copped a glance of his reflection, disgusted at the sight of himself. His hands shook as he unlocked the device, calling the only number he could, Coran. With first ring, he found he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t run to Coran for help. He couldn’t tell him there was something still wrong with him. His phone thrown in disgust where the force shattered the device on impact, and dented the floorboard it’d hit. He didn’t know what to do, but he did know he was a mistake.

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans AU Chapter Seven

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: TeacherxStudent relationship. Slightly Underage reader x adult teacher. An almost-sexual-assault scene. If this triggers you please don’t read. Violence. (just a small fight scene)  Disclaimers: I don’t own CE or you. I don’t condone any relationship of this kind. This is for fictional and entertainment purposes only. 

A/N: Also, can we all just agree that if at any point a woman or anyone else says “no” or “stop”, you have to respect their wishes? CONSENT IS EVERYTHING PERIOD! Word Count:  4, 392 words

Read Chapter Six Here!!

*

(Gif isn’t mine!)

The thing you hated about parties the most was the fact that they never seemed to end.

Well, actually, that was the second thing you hated about them the most. The thing you actually hated the most about parties was having to dress up.

“God fuckin- Margo,” you groan, tugging at the soft fabric of your black cocktail dress.

“What?” She looks at you from the corner of her eye, gaze trained on the road ahead of her.

“This thing is too short.”

Laughing, your best friend shakes her head at your apprehensiveness. “You can not be serious, Y/n. That dress is like, six inches above your knees. Max. And it’s long at the back so...”

You lean back into the comfy seat of Margo’s sedan, grumbling. “I don’t like heels.”

She wiggles her brows. “They make your legs look great, though.”

You can’t argue the point with her any longer and hated to admit she was right. The strappy heels which wrapped all the way just below your knees and off-shoulder dress that hugged your top but spread out at the bottom required a considerable amount of cash from your father's bank account but looked really good on you.

The style was so far from your usual jeans and sneakers minimalist fashion but tonight you actually looked...pretty.

But that was just you. Margo insisted that you always looked pretty. The only difference tonight was that you looked “extremely fuckable.”

Not your favorite choice of wording but fair enough.

While getting ready, you’d asked her to go easy on the makeup (which she did not want to do) in exchange for you to let her do whatever she wanted to your hair.

She’d reluctantly agreed, only applying a thick layer of mascara to your lashes, shimmering eyeshadow to your lids and a pink-tinted lip gloss.

She didn’t do as much as you would’ve thought with the hair though, opting to curl it all instead of the crazy up-do you’d been expecting. The curls were big and loose and sexy. You looked bold and sophisticated and for once you felt good about your appearance.

“So this party,” you start. “How long is it gonna last?”

“Oh. As long as you want it to, baby.” She smirks in that typical Margo fashion that made you uneasy as hell.

“Oh no,” you groan softly under your breath.

Tonight was going to be a disaster, you just knew it.

*

Jenna Miller’s mansion was huge. Huge as in it may actually have been an entire estate.

The music was loud and even as you made your way up the steps of the front lawn, your feet still vibrated with the strong bass of “Pumped Up Kicks” by Foster The People.

You almost hold back a wince at the multiple couples on the literal brink of having sex right then and there. Almost.

Margo, who wore a tight red dress showing off all her incredible curves and monstrous black heels, hugged you to her, puckering her ruby red lips. “C’ mon Y/n. Stop being such a prude. A little kissing never hurt anyone.”

You laugh at her incredulously, pointing to a nearby couple practically dry-humping eachother. “That is not kissing. That is full-on sex.”

She smirks. “You mind now, but I’m sure if it was a certain English teacher kissing you, you wouldn’t mind in the least.”

You flush almost immediately at the sound of Mr. Evans and kissing in the same sentence, gulping a lump in your throat. If only she knew.

“Let’s just go in, yeah?” You rasp, walking in ahead of her.

She mumbles something about you “acting weird lately” under her breath but follows you all the same.

The inside of the house is not much better than the outside, with people drinking and hollering loudly. Some are making out in various places of the living area and most are just dancing like crazy.

You link your arms with Margo almost instinctively, your social anxiety kicking in at the overwhelming sight. I should’ve stayed home watching the rest of the third season of Breaking Bad, you think regretfully.

Margo smiles down at you softly. patting your hand reassuringly. “It’ll be okay, Y/n. Just relax. I’ll be here with you every step of the way.”

The third thing you hated most about parties happened to be that Margo thrived in them. 

Which meant it’d hadn’t even when an hour before she’d gone to get you drinks that she’d been surrounded by a crowd of her other friends, obscuring your view of her except for her head as another crowd of sweaty teens came in, blocking her off completely.

This immediately makes you anxious and you push your way through the crowd but it’s almost impossible. A string of “excuse me’s” and “sorry’s” follow close behind as you practically shove people away in desperate search of your friend, but when you make it to the other side where Margo had previously been in, she was gone.

You look around the immediate premise for her a bit more, but she’s nowhere to be found. You just hope she’ll eventually make her way back to where you’d been last.

You assumed she’d gone off to mingle and didn’t want to interrupt whatever socially-strengthening experience she was having right now. Just because you were incapable of holding a casual conversation with others doesn’t mean you had the right to hold her back from doing so. You were already enough baggage as it was.

So you sigh, throwing yourself back onto the couch you had found in a dark corner. You hoped no one else happened to stumble upon it in the time it took Margo to come back.

Time ticked by torturously by. You watched a game of beer pong going on in front of you and laughed along to some of the stupidities the dares these kids had come up with. Somewhere nearby, a clearly not-sober girl had begun a striptease to the tune of “Partition” by Beyoncé. Guys hollered and you gasped, about to go save the poor girl’s dignity before another girl quickly steps in and takes the girl off the table, giving her her shirt back and using it to cover her as she tugged her away. 

So there you are, bored out of your fucking mind, playing random games on your phone and trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. It's been twenty minutes already when you feel the spot on the couch next to you sink.

Looking over, you raise a brow at who’s decided to sit next to you. He smiles that well-known charming smile of his and you suddenly realize why every girl in your school is in love with him.

“Hey,” James greets you warmly.

James McDaniels. Typical fuckboy. Hot as hell, dangerously charming and your town’s resident golden boy. The son of some big CEO who’d moved from another town down south, everyone believes he’ll make it to play football professionally.

But that’s beside the point. Why was the most attractive/popular guy in school talking to...you?

“Um...hi?” Rather than a greeting, you sound like you’re questioning yourself. You don’t wait for him to respond before you turn your attention back to your phone.

“Want a drink?” he draws your attention back to him, offering you a red solo cup.

You look at the cup then slowly trail your eyes from his hand to his -quite honestly- muscular arm to his handsome face which is pleasantly curved into an eye-blindingly sexy smile.

Immediately, your defenses go up and you shake your head disinterestedly. “No thank you. I don’t take drinks from strangers.”

He chuckles lightly, clicking his tongue. “I didn’t spike it if that’s what you’re thinking. Not that kind of guy, princess.”

His voice is incredibly attractive. Raspy and smooth and he has the hint of a southern accent which somehow makes it all the more attractive.

You finally look at him, putting our phone away in your clutch.

James McDaniels is not your type at all. He’s not dumb per se, but he’s not exactly an intellectual either.

And most importantly, he’s not Mr. Evans...

His eyes were a pretty hazel but they weren’t that gorgeous baby blue that occasionally turned into a deep aqua blue you loved so much. His hair was a dark brown, not a light dirty blonde you always have the urge to run your fingers through. His face was freshly-shaven and didn’t have the hints of a beard you utterly loved scratching your face. And his lips were nice, but they weren't Mr. Evans’s lips.

The thoughts infuriate you. Why are you still thinking about Mr. Evans, Y/n? That was a one-time thing and it was never even meant to happen. It’ll never happen again anyways. He’ll never be able to be with you in the real world. Wake up.

Shocking even yourself, you take the cup from James’s hand with a small smile. “Thanks.” And then you throw it back, drinking its contents in one go.

Immediately, you start coughing erratically, the alcohol burning your throat intensely. James laughs, patting your back lightly.

“Not used to drinking, I assume?”

You smile lightly at him, wiping your mouth. “Nope.” You frown. “What was that?”

He shrugs, downing his own drink easily. He crushes the cup in his hand and throws it over his shoulder. “Vodka maybe? Who even cares? It’s good, right?”

You find yourself smiling lightly, nodding along. “Yep.”

He smirks mischievously. “Wanna get more?”

You nibble on your lip, considering the offer lightly. It sounds fucked up, but for a few seconds, you were able to forget about Mr. Evans and the torture of not being able to ever really have him. You felt...good. Numb. So nothing, really. But that still was better than feeling the pain. You wanted to feel like that forever.

Plus, James McDaniels didn’t seem like bad company. You’d be cautious anyways.

You smirk at him. “Yes, please.”

*

Needless to say, as someone not used to drinking at all, your body did not grow accustomed to the alcohol that was constantly flowing into it fast enough whatsoever. 

It started out casual, but over time you’d become less and less defensive about the drinking, simply craving the feeling the alcohol gave you. The freedom from the memory of Mr. Evan’s lips on yours it offered you.

You were a lightweight and before you knew it, you were drunk.

Everything felt so much better when you didn’t feel like yourself. Even James, who you had no particular interest in became much more interesting with the alcohol. 

He was nice and flirty and over the time you’d spent conversing, he’d slowly moved in closer to you, expressing his interest in you with little brushes on your shoulder and face and legs...

You barely noticed, too lost in the euphoric feeling of the alcohol currently coursing through your system. Your muscles were loose and your smile came easy and you’d never felt so careless and free.

Margo never really made her way back to you but you were too buzzed to give a shit.

“So I fell off the fucking bleachers and landed on my ass,” James finishes his story and you can’t help but snort, quickly falling into a fit of giggles thereafter.

You don’t even know why you’re laughing so much, it’s not even that funny but you can’t help it. 

You calm down enough to ask, “oh my God, you really let that tiny guy shove you like that? For a girl?”

He shrugs with a soft smile, caressing your arm softly then looking into your eyes sincerely. “For the right girl, yeah. Sure princess.”

You can’t help but scoff, downing your tenth to eleventh vodka shot of the night.

“What?” James chuckles a bit confusedly.

You look at him with a grin. “Nothing, it’s just...you’re good.”

He raises a brow. “Good?”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah. Dangerously good. I mean c’ mon! ‘For the right girl, sure’?!” You huff. “That has got to be the cheesiest line I’ve ever heard!”

He smiles in a cute sheepish way that you suspect might also be rehearsed.

“Did it work at least?”

Feeling strangely bold, you smile flirtingly at him, slowly leaning in close enough to have your lips brush slightly. Your chest pressed against his, your finger makes a small trajectory from the sharp line of his jaw to his neck, chest, abs then lower... lower... it stops just above his belt.

You bite your lip seductively, looking into his eyes from underneath your lashes.

“Hm...” you hum softly, watching as his breath falters and his pupils dilate with desire. His lips part and his lids drop halfway.

“No.”

You lean back with a smug smirk on your face, almost bursting into uncontrollable laughter at the look in his face. He looked so disappointed. Your humor grows uneasy, though, when you think you think you see a pissed look flash across his face. It’s gone just as fast as it came and you wondered if you were imagining it when he laughs loudly along with you.

Shaking your head, you get up, slightly wobbling on your own two legs. You giggle at this.

“Where are you going?” James frowns up at you.

You smirk. “Calm down, dad. I'm going to piss, I’ll be back.”

You spin on your heels, almost tripping in the process and make your way to the back patio in an utterly clumsy manner. Truth be told, you just needed to breathe a little. All those people pushing up on you was suffocating. The heat was unbearable.

Stumbling your way outside, you take notice that the place was practically empty and sigh in relief. Silently, you take your phone out of your clutch. Typing quickly, you press Margo’s contact and write her a text message.

To: Bestie❤

Hey, where the hell are you? You better not be drunk cuz I’m hammered and you’re our driver.

You laugh stupidly at the text and it only takes a few seconds before she answers.

From: Bestie❤

Shit. I tried calling you, Y/n! After we got separated I was pulled off to talk and a few minutes later I got a call from my mom that there was a family emergency I had to leave for. I tried looking for you too, but you were nowhere to be found so I assumed you’d left.

I’m soooo sorry, babe!

You frown down at your phone. Crap.

“Shit!” You curse into the cool night but before you know what’s happening, the alcohol seeps into your brain, dismissing any coherent thought you could have. Soon, you find yourself shrugging dismissively and going back into your contacts in search of someone to call to come to pick you up.

“Dad? No, he does not know I’m here and we’d like to keep it that way, thank you very much,” you mumble to yourself. The rest of your contacts are Margo and fast food services and restaurants. 

“Should I call Dylan from Dominoes to come to pick me up?” You snort at your own little joke feeling careless as shit. “Hm...it’s times like these I wish I had more friends.” You sigh, about to give up on when you suddenly stumble across an unexpected contact name.

“Mr. Evans? When did I get his number?” You let out a small confused sound then smirk mischievously, a dumb idea suddenly popping up in your brain.

“Hm, doesn’t matter either way. I can have some fun with this.” You squeal excitedly and without a second thought, press on the contact name and put the phone to your ear, biting your lip to hold back the excitement equivalent to that of a five-year-old child on Christmas morning.

The plan was no plan, really. You just had a sudden urge to call him. To hear him. You felt so brave doing this.

It takes three full rings before he answers, his voice raspy and sexy with sleep.

“Hello?”

You can’t help but laugh, biting your lip even harder to suppress an inexplicable enthusiasm within you.

“What the-” you hear shifting for a second and assume it’s him moving the phone away from his face before he puts it back on, his voice suddenly more alert. “Y/n? What the hell is going on? It’s two in the morn-”

“You’re hot,” you impulsively blurt, immediately covering your mouth afterward.

“What?” You can hear him moving around as you giggle.

“You are. Like, stupid hot. You’re like out-of-this-world hot. I mean, you must know that right? Someone that looks like you do has to know they’re stupidly attractive, no?”

“Wh-”

“And you’re smart. Oh! A-and kind. Actually, you might be the kindest human being I know. It’s kind of funny actually. You are the one person I want to hate the most. But you’re literally impossible to hate.” You giggle. “Impossi-bleh. Ha. That’s a funny word. Impossi-bleh.”

“Y/n, are you drunk?”

You ignore his question, babbling off with a slur in your words. “It’s not fair you know? How can one person be so perfect? And why does that same person happen to be the only one I want but can’t be with?” Your voice grows softer towards the end, cautiously tender. 

He doesn’t respond at first so you continue, your voice strained with pain and utter desperation. “A-and why did you have to kiss me? That just ruined everything, ya’ know!? I was fine with having a stupid crush on my stupid English teacher because I was convinced it’d go away. But then-” you swallow the sudden and painful lump in your throat. “B-but then you kissed me, and that just ruined fucking everything!” You whine like a little girl. 

He sighs dejectedly over the phone. “Where are you, sweetheart? I’ll come to get you.”  

You laugh humorlessly, your mood abruptly turning sour. “See? This is exactly what I’m talking about! Here I am telling you I literally hate how fucking perfect you are and here you are, saying shit like that and being all concerned for my wellbeing.” 

He sighs exasperatedly. “Sweetheart-”

“Stop calling me that!” You find yourself screaming hysterically into the phone, your grip on it tightening before you speak again. “You can’t call me that and assume it means nothing.”

“Okay, okay. Y/n,” he corrects himself gently. “Can you just tell me where you are so I can come to get you?”

You huff into the phone. “James is nice, you know? And cute. And he likes touching me a lot. I don’t really like it, but he brings me drinks so I guess it’s okay.” You giggle, shrugging and disregarding the fact that no one could see you.

“Oh no,” he mumbles worriedly. “Y/n can you please just tell me where you’re-”

“Anyways,” you cut him off. “I’m going to go back to drinking and forgetting about your stupid lips now Mr. Evans. Bye!”

“No! Y-” He tries to protest but doesn’t get to finish before you end the call, heading back inside with a small smile on your face.

That’ll show him, you think triumphantly.

Once you’ve made your way clumsily back inside, a red plastic solo cup is already waiting for you. You grin, walking over and sitting next to James excitedly.  

He smiles lazily and swiftly moves his hand to rest on your knee.

You paid it no mind, opting instead to squeal as “Toxic” by Britney Spears came on.

“I love this song!” You grin excitedly.

James gets up, offering you his hand and motioning to the dance floor where a bunch of people were already dancing. 

He smirks. “Would you give me the absolute pleasure of letting me take you out to dance, princess?”

You giggle softly, shaking your head. “Oh. I can’t dance.”

He raises his brows. “I can’t either.”

You laugh a bit and reluctantly place your hand in his. “Fine.”

He pulls you to him, placing a hand dangerously close to your butt and leading you to the dance floor.

Immediately, you’re squished together with James, the bodies of sweaty drunk teens sliding up next to you. Usually, you’d be gagging with disgust, but you just didn’t care right now.

James wraps his hands around your waist, pushing your hips to move. You look up at him weirdly for a second but your mind is far too fuzzy to even care about what he’s making you do, so you begin to dance as he instructs.

The music was far too irresistible to your intoxicated ears and you couldn’t hold back from moving your hips along to the beat, letting your hair be free in its movement. 

It doesn’t take long and frankly, you barely notice when you spin around and begin grinding on James, brushing your ass against his crotch and kissing his neck teasingly light.

He pulls you close to him, thick arm wrapped tightly around your waist and hips still moving against you.

“I knew behind all that good girl act you put up you’re actually a freak in the sheets, princess,” he rasps sultrily in your ear.  

Something about that doesn’t rub you right, even in your drunk state and you immediately cease your movements, looking up at him. “Let me go, please. I’d like to sit down.”

He frowns. “What? Why? We were having such a good time, princess. I like you and I know you like me.” He leans down, kissing your neck softly.

You don’t like the feeling and immediately shove him away, stumbling back on your unstable legs and heels. “What the hell makes you think that?” You snap drunkenly.

He laughs incredulously, reaching out for you again. “Uh, maybe the fact that you were practically flirting with me the entire night?”

You purse your lips, recognizing how that might’ve looked on your behalf. It’s just...you’d never really felt powerful and sexy and the alcohol gave you the courage you’d never had otherwise to express your sexuality. 

You were still sticking to your plan though. And giving your virginity to a guy like James McDaniels was not your plan. 

“Hey, James. I’m really sorry if I g-gave you any reason to believe this was going to go any further than what just happened.”

You struggle to stand upright and suddenly it occurs to you that James didn’t look all that drunk despite having been bringing you drinks all night.

“I-I think I’m just gonna go.” You point shakily over your shoulder, unable to keep from laughing at the stupidity of, well, you.  

At that moment, the same pissed off look you thought you’d been imagining before comes onto James’s face again, and this time it doesn’t leave.

“The hell you are, you big tease. You’re were the one who started this. And now you’re going to finish it,” he growls, gripping your wrist tightly, his fingers digging into your skin and making it abundantly clear he didn’t plan on letting you go.

You immediately tug at your wrist, shaking your head firmly. “Let me go, James.”

He grins darkly. “No can do, princess. You got me all ready for action and now you’re going to come through whether you like it or not.” 

And just like that, he starts dragging you away toward the staircase where the bedrooms were situated, you assume.

An uneasy feeling grips your gut painfully tight. He looks like he means it. 

“James! I’m serious, let me go!” You tug harder to no avail as his nails dig deeper into the skin of your wrist. You yelp in pain. “Someone help!” No one seems to even notice you, too lost in their little worlds. Your panic intensifies and your heart starts racing at an erratic pace. “Please James, let go of me!” He spins around in a fit, gripping your jaw bruisingly tight.

Panic takes over your mind, but you’re weak in your intoxicated state and not a match for the football player’s strength.

“Listen, slut, either you shut your trap or it’ll be worse for you. That’s a promise.” He roughly shoves your face back. 

But he doesn’t get a chance to spin back around and tug you into your worst nightmare before a fist comes crashing down into his jaw.

James groans in pain at the powerful attack, falling on his back with a hard crack.

You gasp, holding a horrified hand to your mouth as the figure, who you now realize is wearing a dark hoodie and sunglasses hiding his identity, straddles James and begins punching the living hell out of him.

Fist after fist strikes the harasser in the face, painful groans and yelps leaving his mouth whilst your aggressive savior only lets out breathy grunts and under-his-breath mumbles when his fists make contact with James’s face.

And although you were thankful to have been saved, blood was spraying on your legs and you knew if this continued, he’d kill him.

James begins picking himself up, though, landing some blows of his own. The stranger barely grunts in pain upon impact, his blows to James becoming twice as powerful as before and pummelling his fists down on him.

People quickly gather around you three, creating a huge crowd of people recording the fight and a string of “oohs” from multiple of them. No one steps in to stop them from killing eachother though.

Suddenly feeling sober, you jump in, gripping the stranger’s bicep tightly in your small hands. “Hey! Hey, stop! Stop it! That’s enough!”

At the sound of your voice, the stranger instantly stops the assault and gets up, gripping your arm firmly without a word. The grip was not enough to hurt you, but enough to easily sweep you out of the house, past the probing crowd and down the front lawn. 

You stumble along in your heels, still trying to make sense of everything that just happened.

“Hey!” You scream at him. “Where- ah!”

But before your still-buzzed mind can place exactly what it is that’s happening, the man is picking you up bridal style.

You squeak a little, wrapping your arms around his neck to stabilize yourself.

“What the hell, dude!? You just saved me from a scum-bag and now you’re-”

“Damn it, sweetheart. We need to get out of here!”

You freeze. You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

“Mr. Evans?” you breathe.

Read Chapter Eight Here!!

***

Hehehe... Told ya’ shit was gonna go down this chapter...

A Special Thanks To:  ( I apologize for those of you I said I’d tag, but didn’t. I’m bad at keeping track of things. So please if you’re not here when I said you’d be, let me know!)

@bombsandsparkles

@meowsekai

@godohammers

@sp2900

@multifandom-foreverx

@missbosstown

@supernaturalyloki

@jungkooksbowlingskills

@spettrocoli

@woodworthti666

@tshollandlove

@weirdvishy

@buckysrcse

@doritoevansxwinterschildren

@superwholockwannabe  

@emmiejames

@rissamonique97

@zofty15

@sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack

@sydneynix8305

@badkatthings  

@pinnedandneedled

@taliarosej00

@lowkey-love-loki

@tomoyaevaans

@dontstopfreddienow

@notbexmader

@celestiial-angel

@primavera-nymph

@littlecherrydoll

@panic-naran

@chljmntgy

@phanmatch

@moonlightimagination

@cap-just-said-language

@covergirl122

And of course my forevers!

@jessikared97

@sherlockedtash88

@lilypalmer1987

@mogaruke

[midoriyasseawolf-blog]

Final reveal for Sal in the prom AU. Finished all the color and little details to his outfit.

Bonus Scene:

Sal would never be able to pay Lisa Johnson back for all her kindness. When Sal had asked her to help him go through his mom’s old gowns and pretty him up, he was sure she’d laugh in his face. Instead, there was a little sparkle in her tired eyes that told him everything. She was excited to have the experience that every mom with a daughter would have where she’d get to help pick out a dress and make her baby even more beautiful.

“What about this one Sal?” Lisa suggested holding up the shimmery off-shoulder black gown with gold detailing flowers with leaves and vines. “I bet we could find the accessories for this one in your mom’s jewelry box and fuss around with the in-seam a bit...”

“Are you sure it would fit?” Sal questioned, abandoning the box he’d been digging through in favor rubbing the material of the chosen gown between his fingers.

“I’m sure I can make it fit you.” Lisa declared. “Whaddya say, Sweetheart?”

“Sure let’s do it,” Sal consented with a half-convincing half-shrug. His face burning with anxiety and embarrassment behind the prosthesis.

“Awesome! Let’s find your mom’s jewelry box then,” Lisa directed, setting the dress to the side.

It was pretty much downhill after that. Once they found everything, they headed back to the apartments from the storage unit. Larry’s mom had Sal try on the dress to find that it actually needed to be taken in. As it turned out, Sal was a bit more petite and certainly less curvy that his mother had been. While Lisa altered the dress, she had Sal shave his legs and rub them down with baby lotion to avoid razor burn. She showed him how to paint his toes to look neat and tidy and finished her work on the dress. Once the dress was ready, they did Sal’s hair. They decided to do a sort of braided bun to one side with a couple loose curls to frame Sal’s face while his bangs were pinned back by a decorative hair pin. There was a larger pin attached above the bun then it was on to makeup. Lisa had seen Sal’s face plenty of times. The first time she saw his face, she cried for him and the pain he must’ve endured. She had confessed that it broke her heart to see what had been done to him. She even apologized for her ramblings and tears when she realized how upset, confused, and concerned Sal was. She didn’t even bat a lash as she applied eyeliner, fake eyelashes, eyeshadow, and lipstick to highlight certain features. With all that in place, Sal slipped into the dress. That’s when it was time for the jewelry, gloves, and shoes. The jewelry was the same black and gold flower motif and the shoes were old fashioned peep toe slip-ons.

Lisa let Sal situate everything as he needed and waited patiently in the living room with her ancient Polaroid camera. She had checked it over a few times and done a couple test pictures just to make sure it wouldn’t fail her. She was so excited that Sal and Larry were going to their first prom. They were juniors this year and next year would be even more special as it marked a whole other place in their lives. She was excited her two favorite boys would be going to prom together. Unlike some people, she wasn’t bothered by same sex relationships. Her philosophy was that what you did in your time, especially in your own home, was your own business as long as no one was being harmed. She felt the same way about people who stated they were the opposite gender as they were born to look- as long as they didn’t force others to be the same way, what did it matter if a boy liked pink and dresses or a girl liked blue and men’s jeans? So when Sal said he wanted to be a beautiful girl and go as Larry’s date, Lisa was ready to make it happen in any reasonable way Sal requested. She thought it was very sweet of Sal. Besides, she’d had an inkling since the first time Larry saw Sal without his prosthesis that the shorter male had developed a very heavy crush.

“D-does this look okay?” Sal stammered, prosthesis gripped tight in his hands as he revealed himself to Larry’s mom.

“Oh, Sal,” Lisa breathed, a couple proud tears escaping at the beautiful sight he made. “You look beautiful, baby.”

“R-really?” Sal questioned, a little light-headed and hazy with relief and euphoria that he could pull the look off. “Do you think Larry will like it?”

“If he says anything else, I’m beating his ass for lying,” Lisa reassured with a loving smile. “Let’s get a couple pictures and then we can take you down to the basement to ask him.”

Once Lisa had taken the pictures she wanted, they left for the basement apartment. Larry was supposed to be ready by then, but anything could happen with that boy. He was a good kid, but sometimes he got ahead of himself or couldn’t keep up with everything and it was hard to tell at times which one would be the case. This time, he surprised them by being all done up and tugging at his suit in the living room. His hair was tightly pulled back and pinned in a masculine (in Lisa’s opinion at least) bun on the top of his head, his facial hair neatly groomed and his black suit freshly pressed with a crisp white dress shirt.

“Woah, who is that?” Larry questioned, looking Sal over as if he were a totally new and different person. His assessment wasn’t entirely wrong. Sal was practically a whole other person like this.

“It’s just me, Larry Face,” Sal insisted, holding the prosthesis in front of his face and pulling it away as if that was the magic key to Larry’s understanding.

“I didn’t even recognize you, Sally Face!” Larry grinned, giving his friend an appreciative once-over. “What brought this on? Did Todd try to set you up again?”

“No, a-actually,” Sal admitted, avoiding eye contact as he fiddled with his prosthesis.

“What made you decide to be a classy lassy over a dapper dude then?” Larry prompted, shoving his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Funny you should ask,” Sal laughed humorlessly.

“Go on, Sweetie,” Lisa encouraged, camera at the ready.

“I actually wanted to see if you maybe,” Sal hesitated, unsure of whether this was a good idea or not. “Maybe you would go with me?”

“Like a date?” Larry clarified. It was his turn to hesitate as he studied his friend’s expression, uncomfortably shifting his weight.

“Yeah, but it could be just friends if you’d rather,” Sal quickly qualified. His chest felt tight and heavy as if it were enclosed around a wrought iron cage full of spastic butterflies. Hyperventilation was just over the horizon as Sal started to spiral into negative thoughts of all the reasons why Larry would say no.

And yet, he hadn’t thought of the simplest reason.

“Actually, Sal, I kinda told Ash that I’d be her date,” Larry confessed, rubbing the back of his neck with his right hand as he avoided looking Sal in the eyes. “We used to have this thing a few years ago. I guess it was kind of a relationship? She thought it might be fun to go together and see where that lead...”

Lisa’s camera sounded off twice before she or Sal fully processed what Larry had said. Instead of getting fairytale ‘he/she said yes’ pictures, her camera was able to pinpoint and preserve the exact moment that Sal’s little bit of self esteem and excitement for prom shattered into pixie dust. It also caught the first hints of Larry’s mounting guilt and desire to back out of the situation.

“O-oh,” Sal breathed, licking some of the black lipstick from his scarred sliver of an upper lip. “That’s good... I, uh, didn’t know you had plans so... No, yeah, I’m happy for you guys.”

“Larry, kitchen, now, please,” Lisa gritted through her teeth.

When he didn’t react fast enough, she yanked him after her by his earlobe. When they reached the kitchen, she slapped him upside the head when Sal turned away. Larry looked confused and betrayed. His mom hadn’t done that to him since he accidentally killed Mrs. Gibson’s pet rabbit when he was younger.

“What the hell, Larry?!” Lisa demanded. “Why didn’t you think to tell that poor boy that you and Ashley were going together?!”

“I didn’t think he’d wanna go together!” Larry defended. “It was all super last minute! Ash offered after Samantha shot me down. I said sure cause I didn’t have a date and Sal hadn’t said anything since we first heard the date for the dance and he said he wasn’t really interested! I figured he wasn’t going.”

“And you never thought to ask if he changed his mind or if you all could go as a group of friends?!” Lisa pointed out, arms crossed over her chest in typical angry mom posture.

“Okay, fine. No, I didn’t,” Larry huffed. “What was I supposed to do? Lie to him about my plans?”

“No! You’re supposed to be his friend and talk to him about his plans too!” Lisa scolded. “You’re supposed to share things with him! That poor boy has had a crush on you since you first saw him without that mask and treated him like a normal human being! Use some sense, Larry!”

There was a knock on the door that made Sal look between it and the two arguing in the kitchen. By the look on Lisa’s face, it was best to leave them be for the moment. Sal made his way to the door and opened it to reveal Ash all dolled up in a deep plum prom gown with some simple detailing here and there. She looked beautiful, even with as little makeup and jewelry as she wore. She was like model, but instead of her modeling the dress it was more like the dress was modeling her.

“Wow, Ash, you... you look amazing,” Sal beamed, pushing aside the tiny shred of jealousy and the larger dose of hurt that roiled inside him.

“Thanks, Sal,” Ash smiled as she joined him inside the apartment. “You look so pretty! What made you decide to swap teams for the night?”

“Oh ya know, just thought I’d try something different,” Sal blew off, rather unconvincingly. “Figured it couldn’t hurt to balance out all the guys in the group.”

“How noble of you,” Ash teased with a warm smile. “Where’s Larry?”

“Talking with Mrs. Johnson in the kitchen,” Sal answered. “I guess he’s in trouble or something?”

“Oh, I wonder what for...?” Ashley mused, looking curious and a bit concerned as they looked over just in time to see Larry get another slap upside the head. “He must’ve gotten into some serious trouble to earn that...”

“I guess...” Sal submitted, wondering if their argument had to do with his rejection.

Lisa caught Ashley’s eye for moment and gave her son a glare and quiet scold before approaching, “Ashley, you look lovely. I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”

“I just got here a moment ago,” Ashley dismissed. “Sal let me in since you two were chatting.”

“Okay, well I won’t keep you three,” Lisa responded. “Just let me get a couple pictures and then I’ll let you head up to join Todd.”

Lisa snapped the pictures and wished them lots of safe fun and good memories. She tried to assure Sal that he didn’t have to go if he didn’t want to, but he insisted it was fine and he wouldn’t want to waste all her efforts to dress him up. Lisa clarified that it wouldn’t hurt her feelings in light of the situation but whatever made him happy was fine with her. Before they left she made Sal promise to call her if he wanted to leave at any point since they were supposedly rolling right into after prom once the dance was over. With all that said, the trio left to meet Todd and his parents in the parking lot for the apartments.

Sal really did try his hardest to enjoy prom and spent most of the dance with Todd, who was an incredible friend. Larry and Ashley did their own thing most of the night but came back every once in awhile. Surprisingly enough Travis was at the dance with some girl from one of their classes. He didn’t look as though he was having anymore fun than Sal was, though. It made sense since everyone in their group had pieced together that Travis was not as straight as he advertised- in fact, he was as opposite as they came. After several attempts at dancing with Todd and a few separate chats with Chug and Maple, Sal wasn’t able to keep up the neutral, happy for everyone façade. He excused himself to one of the empty tables and planted himself in a chair. After a couple minutes, Todd rejoined him.

“How are you holding up, Sal?” Todd checked in, following Sal’s eyes to where Larry and Ashley were giggling about some inside joke as they slow danced together.

“I’m... I’m fine,” Sal insisted, but the hesitation was there.

“You know it’s okay to be upset about this,” Todd reassured him. “Just like it’s okay for me to be upset about Neil not being allowed to come.”

“I hate to sound like a jerk,” Sal prefaced, adjusting his prosthesis straps on his head. “But that’s a little different...”

“You’re right,” Todd agreed. “But the point is that neither of us came with who we wanted and we both feel that hurt. It’s the same basic principle. As much as we enjoy each other’s company, it’s not the same as having that special someone to share that first slow dance with.”

“You’re not wrong,” Sal sighed, fussing with one of the bracelets enclosing his wrists. When he looked back up at Larry and Ashley, his heart shattered. They were sharing a tender and rather long kiss.

“Sal...” Todd sympathized, noticing the shorter male’s breathing stop. “I’m so sorry...”

“I... I...” Sal stammered, struggling to breathe.

Sal shot up from his seat, kicking his shoes off, and darted towards the men’s room. Unbeknownst to him, Travis had been watching off and on. The blonde saw Sal go from indifferent to shattered before the shorter boy could hide his feelings. Sal locked himself in a stall, ripped his mask off, and sank to his knees on the floor. The gown billowed out around him and left parts of his legs exposed to the cool tiles. He felt his breath come in gasps until he was nearly choking on each one. Then came the tears so strangled and violent that he gagged and threw up into the toilet before him. At least none got on his mother’s gown... Sal struggled to right his breathing, finding that the tears wouldn’t stop.

Just when he thought he might have calmed himself enough to be able to step out and rinse his mouth in the sink, the door to the bathroom squeaked open and slammed shut, causing his anxiety to spike. Between the violent tears and crippling anxiety, Sal’s stomach found enough contents within to hurl a second time. There was a knock on the stall door that halted Sal’s sobs and breathing and paralyzed his vocal cords. Todd wouldn’t chase him down like this and there was no way he’d get Larry involved. Chug didn’t know what was going on so it was unlikely that he was on the other side.

“I know you’re in there, Sally Face,” Travis called. “I can see the dress under the stall door. Open up.”

“Leave me alone, Travis!” Sal pleaded, his voice raw and strangled. “Just please, go!”

“Open the door or I’m coming in there!” Travis insisted, his irritation rising. He was trying to be a decent person and Sal was being an ass. “3...2...1... I’m coming in.”

Before Sal could question whether it was a bluff or not, he found himself scrambling to get out of the way as Travis’ head started to duck under the door. The kid was actually going to crawl under the stall door and force his way in... Sal smacked his forehead on the toilet in his rush to collect his mask and put it back on. By the time Travis had fully squeezed himself into the stall and stood, Sal had forced himself between the toilet and stall wall, mask sloppily secured in place. His heart was racing as he wondered if Travis was going beat him up for dressing like a girl or crying like one or... or... what was that look on the boy’s face? Concern? Confusion? Disgust? Irritation? What was it?!

“Are...” Travis sighed in frustration. He’d come this far and now his stupid brain was panicking and blanking. “Are you okay?”

Sal didn’t answer. Was this a trick question? Would he get punched if he said one way or another? There was no escape and with the music, no would hear if he screamed... Sal didn’t like this at all.

“I get it... you don’t wanna answer,” Travis huffed a sigh. “I’m just the jerk that beats you up and there’s no way that’s not what I’m here to do...”

“N-no, that’s not it!” Sal protested.

“Then what is it?” Travis pressed.

“You forced your way into my stall in the bathroom...” Sal hesitantly pointed out. “That’s a little unsettling...”

“Well, you wouldn’t open the damn door!” Travis countered. “What was I supposed to do? Let you puke your guts out until you die with face in the toilet?!”

“I don’t think I would’ve died...” Sal corrected.

“You never know,” Travis argued. “You could rupture your esophagus with all that bile!”

Sal just blinked at the blonde boy in the burgundy tux. What was this all about? Why was Travis so concerned for him?

“Look, I saw how upset you were about Larry and Ashley,” Travis fessed up. “You ran outta there pretty fast and no one else was coming to check on you...”

“I didn’t think you cared about my mental health or feelings...” Sal admitted, sniffling and making himself gag.

“Of course I care!” Travis blurted, mouth agape in shock at what he’d admitted. “Are you okay? Do you need to hurl again or something?”

“If I do, you need to leave the stall,” Sal insisted. “Like now.”

“Why? What’s the big deal?” Travis questioned. “Everyone pukes at some point in their life. So what?”

“I’m not taking off my prosthetic in front of you,” Sal bluntly stated. “No one sees me without it.”

“Why not?” Travis pressed. Why was he being so difficult? There was no way he was that mangled, right?

“Because. Just go, please,” Sal shit down.

“Just take it off,” Travis pushed.

“No,” Sal shot back.

Travis grumbled something incomprehensible and then lunged at Sal. They wrestled with Sal nearly shouting into his ear to stop and let go until finally it happened. Travis managed to unhook both straps and the mask fell into the toilet. Sal looked down in horror and Travis in shock. He didn’t think he’d get the mask off and he was waiting to see Sal’s reaction. He felt awful that it had fallen into the toilet but he was more curious to see if Sal would attack him or, more importantly, if he could see the blue haired male’s face... Sal crumpled to floor once more, sitting right on Travis’ feet. Slowly, he broke down into silent tears of humiliation that grew louder with each breath until he was nearly sobbing.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” Travis apologized, slipping his feet out from under Sal and and kneeling next to him. “I didn’t mean for it to fall in! I’ll wash it off for you! I just didn’t want you to choke or suffocate or anything!”

“Don’t look at me!” Sal sobbed, hands already covering his face as much as he could make them. “Don’t look! I’m a monster!”

Travis had had it as soon as Sal uttered that last declaration. In a couple rough, but careful moves, Travis pines Sal’s hands in his lap with one hand and lifted the boy’s chin with his free hand. Travis’ face displayed his shock and then awe. Sal was beautiful. Gold dust shimmering on his eyelids, supple lips accentuated by the black sparkling lipstick, hints of blush and eyeliner making those baby blues pop... Each scar was flaming red from the heat in Sal’s face and irritation from the tears. His nose was practically half gone and face was concerningly skeletal but somehow that just accentuated his hauntingly beautiful features.

“Y-you...” Travis stammered. “Y-you’re beautiful...”

“W-what...?” Sal clarified, assuming there was some mistake. Surely Travis meant to say beastly...

“You are beautiful, Sal,” Travis insisted, his fingers caressing Sal’s face as he continued. “Your eyes, the contours of your face... your lips...”

“It’s not nice to lie, Travis,” Sal reminded, swallowing heavily in discomfort as a tear ran down his scarred face.

Travis leaned in and kissed the rogue tear away, pulling back, “I’m not lying. I’m done lying, Sally Face. I like boys. I like one very special boy... I... I like you...”

“Nobody likes me...” Sal breathed, brow furrowing in confusion.

“Whoever doesn’t needs there ass kicked.” Travis declared. “Starting with that fuck face, Larry. He doesn’t deserve you. He doesn’t appreciate you.”

“And you do?” Sal skeptically questioned. “After all the times you fought me verbally and physically...”

“I deserve that...” Travis agreed. “But I’d like to prove I deserve you.”

Sal thought it over. He had certainly suspected this could be a thing but he hadn’t been certain before... But could he really like Travis that way? He’d spent so much time pining over Ashley and then Larry... He didn’t actually know how he felt about Travis.

“I get that you might not like me that way, but maybe you could give me a try,” Travis hoped aloud. “Maybe give us a try...”

“Okay...,” Sal accepted. “I’ll try...”

“Really?” Travis pressed.

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you please clean my prosthesis off now?” Sal requested.

“Right!” Travis scrambled, getting up and helping Sal up.

He rolled his sleeves up and shifted so Sal could squeeze out of the stall and wash up. With a deep breath, Travis plunged his hands into the toilet and fished the mask out. He made a dash for the sink and scrubbed the plastic down with soap and water.

“Did you lock the door?” Sal asked as he dried his hands and spied the lock out of place.

“I figured the fewer people the better for your sake,” Travis owned up, drying off the prosthesis and handing it over.

“That’s really... sweet of you,” Sal commented before slipping his prosthesis back on and choking at the smell of the soap. “What the hell kind of soap is this?”

“Some awful medical grade crap, I’m guessing,” Travis winced, realizing Sal was going to have to smell that the rest of the night.

Sal shrugged, unlocked the door and paused halfway through. A couple guys pushed their way in, ignoring the pair as they rushed to the stalls. Travis was just standing there, admiring how Sal looked in a dress. He didn’t like women, not really, but he wasn’t against Sal in a dress...

“Are you coming?” Sal prompted.

“Yeah,” Travis responded, snapping out of it.

As they made it back to the dance, they spotted Todd with Chug and Maple. Sal waved him off when he looked concerned and the redhead relaxed. Larry and and Ash were grabbing punch from the concession table. Sal just stood and watched the dance floor as a high energy song faded out and everyone cheered. The next song was slower. It was a soft song, Perfect by Ed Sheeran.

“May I have this dance,” Travis requested with a deep bow as if they were in Old England at a fancy ball.

“Yes,” Sal breathed.

He let himself be led to the dance floor. Travis kept his posture and hand placement respectful while still holding Sal close. He twirled and dipped Sal like the shorter boy was delicate and beautiful creature to be revered and praised. Sal was amazed by how gentle and loving Travis treated him. As the song reached the end, Travis began to sing along, locking eyes with Sal.

“Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms. Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful, I don't deserve this, darling, you look perfect tonight. Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms, Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song. I have faith in what I see. Now I know I have met an angel in person And she looks perfect. I don't deserve this. You look perfect tonight...”

As the song drew to a close, Travis dipped Sal back as far as the shorter was comfortable and planted a soft, sweet kiss to the lips of the prosthesis. When Travis pulled him back up, Sal decided this boy deserved better than a plastic face. He unclipped the prosthesis in the dark of the dance floor, blocked one side of his face with it, and stole a kiss from the blonde boy that was so desperate to atone for his mistakes.

“You deserve this,” Sal breathed, both of them tearing up at his words.

Neither of them had ever heard that phrase in a positive context before then. They silently vowed to always remind each other that they do deserve better.

[miachanelparker]

Title: GRWM: Date Night in Hawaii   Involved: Mia Carter Posted: Thursday, April 2nd, 2020 Subscribers: 2,450 Views: 7,908 Likes: 345 Dislikes: 3 Video #: 3 Comments: 3,567 Description Box: 

Get ready with me for a date night with the hubby while we are Spring Breaking in Hawaii!

Watch: https://miachanelparker.tumblr.com/post/611602148480942080/title-intro-to-baby-carter-and-mommy-mcvlogs

Instagram: @mrscarter_ Twitter: @mrscarter_  Facebook: Mia Carter  Snapchat: @mrscarter_

FAQ:

How old are you? 21 How old is your husband? 24 How long have you been married? 1 month How far along are you? 12 weeks Where do you study? University of Houston Where do you live? Houston, Texas

Mia set the camera up in the vanity area of the villa and she smirked at it as she gathered her makeup things and placed them before herself. “Hey guys” she said leaning down into her makeup trunk and pulling out some brushes. “I decided to record a get ready with me while we are here in Hawaii” she said to the camera excitedly. “We came for spring break and our best friends are here with us. We are going to go on a little date night” she smirked as she began the process of filling in her eyebrows on camera. “If you guys didn’t know, my best friend is pregnant as well. So, this little trip has kind of became a little eyeopener” she told him, using the angled brush delicately as she leaned in to sculpt her brows before filling them in once more. “This may be one of few times we can all hang out and vacation together considering we will be new parents and that would get some getting used to” she told him. “So it’s a little me sentimental for me” she chuckled a little as she moved to the other eyebrow.

Mia licked her lips gently before she sat the brush down and she grabbed some Chapstick and rubbed it across her dry lips. She capped it when she was done, putting it back down before she grabbed the brush once more and finished her brow. Mia rubbed her lips together content with their being some moisturizer on them now “anyhow, I just thought it was kind of cool that we get to get a little couples time in and stuff still. My best friend is closer to giving birth than I am. She’s due in July” she told the camera “so this is really like her last big travel” she told them as she moved to grab her concealer and concealer brush. She begins to clean up her eyebrows, both above and below them, sculpting the brow even more on her face. “Hawaii has been amazing so far, I love it here” she told them “I am an island girl” she told them truthfully “I am Haitian” she confessed to them “so I absolutely love islands” she said in creole smoothly before she smirked. She began to massage the concealer into her skin, blending it out. “I think I have fallen in love with Hawaii more than I fell in love Paris” she said to them.

“Although, Paris will forever have a special place in my heart because that is where I married my husband. I just love a good tropical vibe” she told them. “What places have you guys traveled and just fell in love with instantly?” she asked him “you have to drop them below I am curious” she told him softly. When she was done with her brows Mia moved to grab some primer that she loved and she showed it to the camera “if you aren’t on that Fenty Beauty, then what the heck are you on?” she asked him as she pumped the primer into her hand twice and moved to smooth it out over her skin, working it in gently. “And before anyone comments below I have done my full morning beauty routine already, including SPF. Listen people, melanin does not exclude you from the SPF crew, put SPF on people” she told them giving them a knowing look. “It is important, and you should wear it for at least like 10 minutes or so before walking out the door I think they say. So, I put it on during my morning routine” she told them all as she grabbed her brush and Mia began to blend foundation into her skin.

 “I also use the Fenty foundation as well” she told them happily as she continued to work the foundation into her skin. “So, in regard to the baby” she said getting on the topic most people were here for. “I had like a very awkward episode the other day while here. Well really our first night here” she said looking at herself in the mirror before she moved to work the foundation down her neck with the brush. “My ankles swelled, and I was very, very confused. I don’t know why it happened, I googled it and just came to the conclusion maybe being on the plane for as long as I was did it, maybe I ate something with too much sodium beforehand, you know” she said with a shrug. “But it made me put a few things into prospective” she told them all. “Every woman is different, and I think I have spent a lot of time comparing myself to my best friend and in the midst, I am neglecting what my body is telling me” she said pointing to herself in with her brush. “It kind of shook my husband and I up a bit, so I definitely don’t want that to happen again. Not where I am in the pregnancy” she said softly.

 Mia sat the foundation brush down and she moved to grab her concealer that is lighter than the one she used on her brows. She placed it under her eyes, center of her forehead, her chin, down her nose, and above her lip. “So now I know I really need to monitor what I consume” she said to them easily before she closed the concealer and grabbed another one that’s a darker shade than her foundation for her contour. She placed it around her hairline, she chiseled her cheeks, and drew a line against her jawline. At the last minute before she closed the top, she lined the side of her nose, covering the outer unhighlighted region before she picked up her damp beauty blender and began to work “this is damp by the way” she told them idly.

 She pounced the sponge across her face, and she blended the creams out evenly as she said “so I think when we get back to Texas, I am going to do a little research and get a healthier diet going. I don’t eat bad, but I don’t eat 100% good either” she told them. Mia blended out all of her highlighted areas before she pinched the sponge and began to blend out the portion on her nose. After her nose came the contouring, she used the same sponge to blend out the dark areas of her face, making sure she blended upwards in her cheek area. When she was done blending out everything on her face, she moved to sit the sponge down and she grabbed a brush, moving to set each highlight area with a translucent powder and then each dark section with a tinted powder. She set her face fully and she licked her lips slowly before she looked herself over in the mirror and she grabbed a bronzer swirling a brush over her cheek area.

 Mia leaned down and grabbed a highlighter, a blush, and some eyelid primer and she sat them in front of herself. She too grabbed an eyeshadow palette, some lashes, her eyeliner, mascara, lipliner, and liquid lipstick. “I was not going to do an eye look, but I love wearing lashes and liner” she told them, “so that is what I am going to do” she breathed. Mia added some more powder under the bottom of her eyes incase any shadow color fell down. Once she did that, she moved to placed powder under her cheeks chiseling them out to make her face appeal slimmer. Mia began to use some eyeshadow brushes and she began to work them into her lid blending color out smoothly.

“I actually have no clue what I am wearing today, so I have no clue why I just went along with this color” she said to camera as she continued to blend out the color easily. She licked her lips again before she stopped to apply more Chapstick to her lips, she sat it back down and she picked her brush back up. Mia worked within her eyes crease before she moved to the other eye to blend some color out there as well. “I don’t even know if I have anything this color” she breathed softly when she was done blending, she moved to stand up from the seat, holding her robe closed as she walked away towards their clothes.

After a moment, she moved towards her makeup setup and she sighed “I think I have something that I can wear that will work with the look” she told the cameras she continued to work on her eyelids. The most important part about a makeup look as a whole is the blending of it all, so Mia always seemed to take her time with her eyelids. She picked up another brush blending out another color on her eyes, fusing the two and she licked her lips while she did it, tongue pressed against her top lip. Mia watched as Tyler walked past her in the background with nothing, but a towel wrapped around his waist. She eyed him for a moment before she moved to the other eye and began to blend that side out like she’d done the other eye. “What color are you wearing?” Mia called out to him curiously.

Tyler walked out of the bathroom, his body still dripping a bit as he wrapped the towel around his bare waist. He moved for the closet, licking his lips at Mia’s question. “Uh,” he shrugged a bit. “I’m not sure yet,” he told her truthfully. “I’m thinking maybe blue or green,” he shrugged.

Mia nodded her head as she sprayed a flat brush with some setting spray and dabbed some foiled shadow swiping it across her lid. “Okay” she breathed as she built the color up on his eyelid and moved to her other eye, doing to it what she did to the other eye. She shifted in the chair and adjusted her robe a bit as moved to the other eye doing the exact same to it. Once she was done with that, she grabbed her eyeliner and shook it up before she unscrewed the liner and begin to draw out wings of both sides of her eye easily. She had practiced liner long enough to do it easily and without much thought or mistakes. Licking her lips, she sat the liner aside as she moved to open her lashes looking at the camera “these are the Lilly Lashes, Miami style” she said showing them the case before she squeezed some glue onto both strips.

She sat the lashes aside letting them dry down a little as picked up a big foundation brush swiping away the extra powder that rested on her face. After, she grabbed her MAC fix plus setting spray, and she drenched herself with it knocking off the powder residue and melting down everything. Mia found a piece of paper close by and begin fanning her face a little drying the spray down, her eyes closed as she did. Mia sat the paper aside and she grabbed her eyelash curler, curling both eyes before she moved to apply her lashes on both eyes gently, using a steady hand. Once they were on Mia pushed them up a bit, setting them exactly where she wanted them to be and she looked herself over coming alive before the camera. “I love these lashes” she said admiring them fully turning her head as she tossed some braids over her shoulder.

 Mia picked up her mascara and begin to apply it to the lashes, fussing hers and the strips together as she rubbed her lips together. She also applied some to her bottom lashes, before she closed the mascara tube and said “oh” to camera lens. “I started looking into different birthing methods online, and on Youtube” she told them. “I am just curious to know the possibilities that we have and what people think, I know sooner or later my husband and I have to complete a birthing plan” she told them. “And I am just trying to stay one step ahead of everything for the baby” she breathed out softly as Tyler moved around in the background. Mia picked up a brush and she grabbed her phone opening up her pregnancy app and she showed the visuals of what their child looked like currently “here we are right now” she said showing them before she sat the phone down. “We are very close to our second trimester; I am so happy. I feel like time is moving so fast which isn’t a bad thing” she emphasized. “Because I am super excited to know the gender of the baby, I can’t wait for the baby shower experience, and you guys don’t know how ready I am to hold my little baby in my arms” she breathed out with a wide grin on her face. She dipped her fan brush in her highlighter, and she brushed it onto all the high points of her face as she normally did. “I think this is NARS orgasm” she told them.

 “And considering that I will be entering my second trimester I decided that I will look into more avenues in relation to my pregnant. Like some classes and birthing options and stuff” she told them with a shrug. Mia picked up her brown colored lip liner and she begin to line her lips, over lining her top lip a bit to make them appear bigger than what they were. It was something she did that she didn’t truly admit but it was a fact of her routine, she made sure she filled the inside of her lip a bit before she picked up her nude liquid lipstick. She opened the tube and applied the lipstick over her lips, and she rubbed up them together blending the two colors together on her lips and she sat back looking herself over. 

All dressed and ready, Tyler walked into the room, looking at Mia and he smirked. Walking over to her he said, “Aaron and I are ready but take your time,” in a whisper. “Nova is still getting ready too,” he walked a bit closer, leaning in to press a kiss to her forehead. “You look beautiful babe,” he said easily.

Mia looked up at Tyler as he spoke and she nodded her head, shifting in her robe, she smirked. “Okay, I think I’m done” she told him softly as he leaned down to kiss her forehead, she smiled softly closing her eyes. She opened them and said “thank you baby” puckering her lips for him to kiss despite her lipstick, it dried down matte it wouldn’t transfer anyhow.

Tyler smiled at Mia as she said she was done, and he nodded. As she puckered her lips at him, he reached down, gripping her cheeks as he leaned in once more, kissing her lovingly. “You’re welcome,” he whispered against her lips.

Mia smirked as he reached down gripping her cheeks and kissing her lips, she moaned in it softly before he let her go and she nodded her head. She slyly caressed his rock-hard abs through his shirt before he walked away, and Mia moved to spray her face fully one last time before she looked to the camera. “Okay, so I am going to get dressed and I’ll be right back” she said to them.

“Okay” Mia said softly sitting before the camera once more “I am all dressed up and everyone is ready to go” she commented. She stood up and said “this is what I am wearing” she said showing the flowy dress to, she even picked up her mini Chanel bag to show them before she sat it back down. Sitting before the camera once more afterwards Mia said, “This is the makeup look” zooming in a bit “I think I did pretty damn well getting an outfit to match this” she chuckled lightly. “As always you guys” she said clasping her hands together. “Thank you for watching” she said to them happily “don’t forget to like, comment, subscribe, and click that little bell to be notified every time we post a new video” she said to them. “There are Carter cuties down below that can contest to us being hella stupid lit over here and I know you want to join the team boo” she said with a chuckle. “And after you do all those things go ahead and watch this video” she said shifting in the direction of where the last video will sit on the screen. “Go ahead” she said as the video ends.

[nhlhoser]

On The Rocks

 Master List 

         Ice ice baby

  Dancing around the ice on the streets of Toronto is a task in regular shoes but in heels is a fucking mission even when you're a native of the conditions. I've already caught a patch which I scraped my elbow and bruised my right hip and Now limping with a slightly damp trench coat.

 When I get to my destination I officially regret the choice of walking to the event rather taking a cab. My thought process did not include this amount of ice. I live close but it doesn't feel like that now.   

Entering the doors greeted by the security with warm smiles as I hand my invite over. I've been to one other event of this caliber -Black tie. I was a nobody there and I'm still a nobody here. I'm representing my dad's friend of friends company the first time it was for a Fundraising event for sick kids and the guy who I was filling for was out of the country and it would look horrible if no one from his company went and nobody wants to go.

Being a nobody is okay for anxious people like me. There is no attention on or for me in the slightest. I can come and leave and no one would notice but that won't some me from overthinking things like 'what if I trip?' 'Spill something on myself? Or even worse someone else!'

After checking my coat in and inner pep talk I stop by the bar to grab a cocktail that I highly need and will probably finish before I even get into the main hall.

 Passing a lot expensively dressed people I make my way to my table which is rather close the bar and the opposite side of the room from the main entrance.

 "Don't trip" I chant quietly under my breath as I pass the table to my seat. Carefully grabbing a flute of champagne of a tray being paraded around the room by multiple staff members. The more alcohol I drink the calmer I get and is just what I need right now.

  Starting to see familiar faces around the room making all the calm leave my body but I thankfully had made it to my table. My nervous making my grip on the flute almost white knuckle.

   As the room starts to fill meaning more people sitting at my table. All faces unknown to me. The tables beside me also unknown, closer to the stage is where all the NHL players sit with their girlfriends, wives or family.

As the night progresses it just gets boring. Speeches from organizers to everyone that came out directed mainly to the big name players and company heads that sponsor the league. I'm slightly buzzed from champagne and the open bar 20 feet to my left. Slowing down on the alcohol when the food game which like I had expected wasn't what  I had picked but I ate bits to looks the part and push around the rest to look like I ate more. The lady clad in bright blue making her eyes sparkle to my right going on about how luxurious the hall was and the importance of these events.

Bored. I got more bored the less I drank and the more the lady in blue kept talking- to who I'm not sure because honestly think I'm the closest to listen but that's just to be polite and I don't know anyone here.

After a short debate- no debate I knew it was the time I left and as people had started to get up to socialize and network (the purpose of this event) I left my seat, I made sure to grab all my belongings and drink the rest of my now warm drink. Carefully making to the washroom before I left. You can't keep drinking without almost peeing yourself.

   My makeup more I texted the. I expected but I had spray a good half of my setting spray. My blue eyes more vibrant than usual from my dark blue eyeliner and black smoked out eyeshadow and the false lashes framing and completing my look. No lipstick my lips naturally pink.  My dark hair straight falling past my breast and mid back and tucked behind my ear.  My cheeks pink from the alcohol. Time to go.

"Shit shit why did I have to wear white? And why did I have to have the chocolate ice cream?" A short blonde came rushing into the washroom. A dark smudge on her pristine dress. Stunning is the only word to describe the young women probably my age.  After watching her fail attempt of removing the stain I remember my Tide stick.

"Here I always carry this because I'm always clutz spilling things on myself," I said carefully offering her the stick. Her head snaps to me eyes wide. I clearly spooked her but she did take the stick and started to remove the stain with ease. Her shoulders relaxing the more the stain came out.

"Ah thank god! Thank you so much" she goes to give me back the pen by I refuse " it's okay you keep it. You never know what might come your way" I said warmly waving her off grabbing my clutch and heading for the door.

  Out of the door of the washroom and on my way to the exit I'm stopped by the lady in blue who now is accompanied a man who is not her husband. A man a handsome made with soft blue eyes, age lines accenting his features reveling some of his age and perfectly styled hair. Sporting a blue suit and brown dress shoes.

" Ah. Here she is. I thought you had left" almost lady almost. I smile carefully at the duo having no clue what's happening.  'Tread carefully'

"She's what you're looking for! Unknown beauty hell she doesn't even know it. Those eyes piercing! Maybe lose some bulk little too muscled.." she casually starts to point out flaws but then something she liked but all making me mad and confused. I never like being critiqued so blatantly. I'm a tall girl that likes to workout so of course, I have muscle.

As these two keep talking and I'm too polite to leave because I don't want to be rude even though they are rude. My eyes starting to well up with tears out of anger and my lips are pursed.

Stop talking to me!!!

The guy who now doesn't look as perfect as he points out my flaws offers me a card with his details on it. I carefully take it and make my way out of the hall and to the coat check my head down.

"Here's your coat miss" the young teenage hands me my trench and I would have been already gone if the girl from the washroom hadn't stopped me. Please, I can I leave!!! I just want to grab a hotdog and go home.

"I really want to thank you again" she gushed. I nodded and trip side step and leave. But she stopped me. "I just want to know those two uppity asses don't know what perfection is even if it hit them in the face like you should've, " she said seriously well holding me captive with her eyes.

 My confusion made her continue with a roll of the eyes. "When I came out of the washroom I saw your frown and I heard them in detail critiquing your appearance. I followed you. I want to thank you girl!" She finished with a huge grin.

" well, it's not a problem honestly" I grinned her words making me flush red.She sees someone over my shoulder. Her mood getting even happier (didn't know was possible). "I was wondering if you wanted to come an after party with me and my friends" she more informed than asked.

 With wide eyes, I don't want to have any more weird encounters tonight. " Ah I was hoping to go grab street meat and crawl into bed, " I said carefully not wanting to offend her. " I also don't even know who you are and if this is a ploy to kidnap my ass" I joked." oh shit sorry you're right! H, I'm Steph and here come my boyfriend Mitch" she waves someone over. "I heard street meat, " Said Mitch walks over and it's Just any Mitch. it's Mitch Marner --- holy shit.

"Street meat? Is this Marns new nickname or something?" An another voice joins. This voice being Auston Matthews.

I need more alcohol if I'm expected to act normal. I'm just standing wide-eyed.

"We actually talking about hot dogs actually" Steph corrects the tall hockey player with a teasing frown and a laugh.

"Yeah were gonna go grab some with our new friend here. You in?" Mitchell Marner says throwing his arm around his girlfriend.

"Sounds great. Hi, am Auston" his large hand goes for a handshake and I stare like it's a foreign object for a second too long before grasping his hand".

"Amelia" is all I could muster before Steph goes on about how rude she never asked for my name.

In seconds we were out of warmth and into the cold of Toronto going to get hot dogs.

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