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bookshelf-dust · 1 year

Text

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?”

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make.

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes.

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table.

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around.

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.”

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment.

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down.

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro.

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money.

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way.

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are.

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?”

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy.

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up.

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch.

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment.

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge.

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.”

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her.

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say.

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is.

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice.

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation.

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek.

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it.

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together.

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale.

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win.

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door.

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do.

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do.

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger.

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side.

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him.

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him.

“Besides what?”

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself.

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless.

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again.

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it.

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there.

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims.

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom.

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…”

You and Billy.

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room.

Sharing a bed.

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall.

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything.

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them.

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh.

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that.

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you.

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether.

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him.

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win.

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back.

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby.

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”.

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.”

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips.

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind.

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them.

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one.

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.”

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out.

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card.

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger.

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can.

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask.

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.”

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass.

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder.

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions.

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either.

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing.

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way.

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you.

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in.

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you.

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own.

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this.

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side.

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined.

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?”

“Yeah.”

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?”

“Yes.”

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before.

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him.

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.”

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck.

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break.

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous.

It’s just me.

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean.

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed.

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them.

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop.

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look.

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in.

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on.

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction.

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble.

“Sleep okay?” she asks.

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.”

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up.

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet.

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says.

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.”

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.”

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being.

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water.

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down.

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool.

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water.

“Whatcha doin’?”

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you.

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does.

“Okay.”

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do.

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.”

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see.

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say.

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water.

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with.

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest.

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child.

“You motherfucker!”

You get him back, and he’s laughing.

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder.

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water.

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating.

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so.

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it.

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it.

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them.

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks.

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat.

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you.

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy.

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this.

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.”

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again.

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content.

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up.

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before.

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro.

You’re healing him. You.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

5K notes · View notes

supernovafics · 10 months

Note

Hi I was wondering if you could do a next part for just a feeling where reader does let it show that she doesn't feel comfortable about vanessa and steve and that she's jealous and you could add whatever else you'd like but also if you could include steve canceling the date with Vanessa (him not gonna see her again/anymore)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 3.3k words

warnings: explicit language, (slightly)jealous!reader, smoking weed (reader and steve), some angst

summary: in which the kids stay over at your and steve’s apartment for the night. when it’s long after midnight and the kids are asleep in the living room, you find steve sitting out on the fire escape. a late night conversation full of honesty ensues, and it manages to bring up more questions than answers

author's note: thank uu for the request !! i was already in the middle of working on this when i got it lol so some stuff is a lil different. hope you enjoy though🫶🏾

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1985

Somehow in the five months of you and Steve living in your apartment, a sort of “tradition” quickly managed to form where once a month the kids would stay over for a night.

They’d set up camp in the living room; Max and El always got the couch, while the boys spread out their sleeping bags on the floor.

It was a proper sleepover, and why it was happening at your apartment instead of at any of their homes still confused you and Steve a little, but neither of you really minded; you both really enjoyed spending time with the group of teens.

Tonight was a little different, though. While you and the kids were playing a particularly heated game of Uno circled around the coffee table, Steve was out on a date. With Vanessa.

It was only their third date, but those always felt pretty defining to you, and at this point you were just waiting for him to tell you that things were serious with her, or getting there.

Steve hadn’t really talked about her that much to you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that was more your fault or his. You definitely hadn’t been as adamant with asking questions about how things were going as you’d been with other girls he had gone on dates with.

Vanessa was in one of your classes and over the last few weeks she told you more than enough about her and Steve, even though you never asked; how great their first date getting dinner at some restaurant had gone, their second date to the movies, and their long phone conversations that would happen practically every other night.

You did not need to hear all of that from him too.

But still, you expected him to tell you something about what was going on with him and her.

If you were going to solely take Vanessa’s words for how things were going, which you kind of were since she was the only one you heard anything from, you would believe that everything was sunshine and daisies between them, and it was only a matter of time before he was telling you that he had a girlfriend.

The last time the two of you had a conversation like that was when he told you about Nancy. It was only two years ago, but it somehow felt like so much longer. That conversation— which happened one night at Steve’s house; his parents were gone like usual and yours were too busy to ever notice you sneaking out and biking twenty minutes to his house almost every night— went perfectly fine because you were getting into your own relationship then too, so the timing felt ideal to say the least.

If only things could be that serendipitous this time around.

Because you weren’t sure you’d be as excited when he told you now. Not when you could barely remember the last time you went on a good date, and you hadn’t even managed to find anyone to simply have a crush on lately.

Other than the fact that you had hated most of your classes this semester, you were glad that it had finally ended yesterday because it also meant that you’d, hopefully, see completely new people in your classes next year.

If Steve was about to get into something serious, maybe you could too.

It still didn’t fully make sense to you why you felt so affected by it this time around; why you were still feeling jealous for reasons that felt simultaneously stupid and completely valid.

You figured that ultimately you just didn’t want things to change.

“Your turn,” Dustin said, bumping your arm and pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, my bad,” You responded as you placed down a card and then El went.

“What were you thinking about?” Lucas asked.

“Um, nothing, really.” You shrugged. “Just school stuff.”

“How is college?” Will asked. “I think you’re the only person we know that’s in it right now.”

You thought about your answer for a moment. “In order to make sure you guys stay inspired and excited to go to college in four years, I will respectfully decline to answer that question.”

Max laughed a bit. “So, what you're saying is, it sucks.”

“Technically, I didn’t explicitly say that. So none of your parents can hate me or call me a shitty influence,” You responded. “Anyway, though, are you guys hungry? I should probably order the pizza now.”

“Great subject change,” Mike said with a laugh.

“Thank you,” You smiled as you got up from your spot on the arm of the couch, which had been entirely uncomfortable but worth it so that the kids were comfortable. “You guys can skip my turn for now. And I will be taking my cards with me because I don’t trust any of you to not look at them while I’m gone.”

“Good choice,” You heard Dustin say as you walked toward the phone in the kitchen.

You ordered three pizzas— a pepperoni, cheese, and one that was half of each— from the place that you and Steve would always go to that was only five minutes away. You were saying a quick, “Got it, thanks,” to the guy on the other end of the line who had just told you that the pizza should be delivered in about thirty minutes, when the squeaky front door opened and in walked Steve. The kids’ chorus of Hi’s and Hey’s were immediate and Steve smiled back at them and said a quick “Hi” of his own before heading into his room.

That very short interaction gave you no indication on how the date went; if Steve seemd happier than when he had left earlier that evening or if he was the same. But, you wanted to know what happened tonight. You felt like you needed to know, and surprisingly you actually wanted to ask him. If something big had happened, you knew that he would have to tell you sooner rather than later, but you’d rather just get it out of him now.

Maximizing on that small surge of courage, you gave his door a quick courtesy knock before walking in and closing it behind you.

“Hey,” You said as you sat down on his bed. “How was your date?”

He was pulling off the blue short sleeve Polo he had on and slipped on a T-shirt that you immediately recognized because you had gotten it for him a couple Christmases ago. It was a dark green shirt that had a tree and a bear on it and said “Yosemite National Park” across the top. You found it at a thrift shop and thought it was cool even though neither of you had been to that park or even to California.

Steve met your curious gaze. “Long story short, we won’t be seeing each other again.”

“Oh,” Was all you could say at first because hearing that answer completely confused you. You also felt like a complete asshole for immediately feeling relieved by his words. “Oh, um, okay… Can I have the long version of the story?”

“Maybe later,” Steve said, and for the first time in a long time, it was actually hard to read your best friend right then. He didn’t look sad, but there was something about his words that kind of felt sad. “I’d much rather just play Uno with you guys right now.”

“Okay,” You said with a nod. You were still so curious about everything— your mind was already cooking up a plethora of potential scenarios of what could’ve happened between him and Vanessa tonight. But, you decided not to push him further on it right then. “I hope you’re also in the mood for pizza and watching Ghostbusters. It was pretty much a unanimous decision by the kids.”

He smiled at that. “That’s honestly not surprising.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You weren’t entirely sure why you couldn’t sleep.

It wasn’t because of the kids making noise, like what would usually happen, because they all knocked out around midnight; right after raiding the freezer and eating pretty much all of the ice cream you and Steve had in there.

Maybe you were hungry again. You didn’t really think that was it, but you’d rather just go with that thought process than continue to lay restlessly in your bed.

You got out of it and wrapped the throw blanket that sat folded across your desk chair around you before walking out of your room. You tiptoed around the boys and their sleeping bags scattered around the living room and headed to the kitchen counter where the pizza boxes were; you hoped there was a stray slice in at least one of them.

Before you checked any of the boxes, something outside the large window that led to the fire escape managed to catch your eye. The Christmas lights that you and Steve strung up a week ago around the railing of the fire escape were shining brightly like they did every night. But, unlike every night, right then, Steve was out there sitting on the old metal stairs.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you went over to the window, once again maneuvering around the kids and their sleeping bags, and then opening it wide enough so that you could step out onto the fire escape. When you smelled what exactly was happening out there, you quickly closed the window behind you.

“I feel very offended that you didn’t bring me out here for this,” You said to Steve, eyeing the joint between his fingers as you sat down next to him. After immediately getting hit by the cold night air, you were glad that you had a blanket wrapped around you, and you gave some of it to Steve.

“I didn’t wanna wake you,” He said, grabbing the end part of the blanket that you slung around his shoulders and adjusting it.

“You can always wake me up for this,” You told him as you pushed yourself even closer to him so that you both were nicely huddled within the throw blanket. “And for anything, really.”

He smiled at you. “So, whenever I find a spider in my room, I can wake you up to kill it for me?”

“I’m not even going to dignify that question with an answer because you already know that Eddie is our designated bug murderer,” You told him with a small smile before taking the joint from him and bringing it to your lips.

Things became quiet aside from the random street noise below, and it stayed like that for a bit. It was freezing out, and the thin blanket actually wasn’t providing a lot of warmth, but you didn’t mind the goosebumps starting to rise on your skin right then, especially your bare legs.

You turned your head a little to look at Steve. “Can I finally get the full story now of what happened tonight, or do I still have to live in suspense?”

At first, he didn’t say anything, and you almost thought that he still wasn’t going to tell you everything. But then he took a quick drag of the joint and then started speaking. “We got takeout from this burger place that she likes and then went back to her apartment to watch a movie. After the movie we were talking and she asked if I thought that what we’ve been doing could lead to something serious because that’s something that she wants right now. And I told her that I’m not looking for something serious right now, so she said that we shouldn’t see each other anymore.”

You weren’t sure what you thought Steve was going to say, but it wasn’t necessarily that. It didn’t sound like the dramatic and abrupt ending that a part of you expected to hear about. The way things ended between them made sense to you— they wanted different things. In your head, that was probably the most civil way things could end between two people.

“Oh, okay,” You said with a nod. “You seemed so weird earlier, like kinda sad, so I fully thought you were going to tell me something really bad happened. But, that doesn’t sound too bad.”

Steve looked away from you then. “It’s just… I kinda feel like shit about lying to her, though.”

Your eyebrows furrowed as you passed the joint back to him. “What did you lie about?”

He was quiet for a long moment and you wished that he was looking at you so you could read his face. “For the most part, I do want something serious. But, I just couldn’t really… see that with Vanessa. I couldn’t picture any sort of a “future” with her.”

“Oh,” You breathed out. You fully didn’t expect to hear him say that, and it was easy to tell how bad he felt about that brutal honesty. “Don’t feel like shit. It’s good that you lied.” You lightly bumped your knee with his so that his eyes met yours again. “If you had told Vanessa that you do want something serious with someone but that someone’s not her, it would’ve just hurt her more.”

“I just don’t get why I couldn’t see it, y’know. And that’s the most confusing part about everything,” He said with a shake of his head, and it was you that felt the need to break the eye contact this time around. “She’s great and things were going really good. Us being together and having something serious would’ve made sense.”

“I think that sometimes the stuff that feels like it should make sense just doesn’t end up feeling right,” You said, your gaze solely focused on a car driving below and you couldn’t help but wonder what the driver was up to this late at night, or early in the morning, depending on how one looked at it. “And I know that was probably the most cryptic and fortune cookie kind of answer, so I’m sorry.”

He laughed a bit. “No, I think I understand what you mean. Kinda.”

You gave him a small smile as he gave you back the joint. You took a slow drag from it and then exhaled out into the freezing Winter air.

You weren’t entirely sure how much time had passed over the next few moments. All you knew was that you were nicely high, and all too quickly the cold didn’t bother you so much anymore because of that, and you suddenly felt the need to let out your own version of brutal honesty.

You closed your eyes and then let out a breath. “I’m sorry.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed at your words. “For what?”

“That your date went bad. That I’m kind of relieved that it did.”

You knew that you would’ve told him that eventually. It was hard keeping secrets from him, it had especially been hard not telling him how you’d been feeling the past few weeks. And it felt easier to say it all now because your mind was a little fuzzy and felt a lot less chaotic.

Steve was quiet for a second, letting your words linger in the air as he took another drag. “Why are you relieved?”

You sighed, already knowing that your next words would be somewhat of a lie. “I don’t know…”

He lightly bumped your knee. “That’s not true.”

“I was kind of jealous and really annoyed about you going out with Vanessa,” You said and then sighed again. “Because… It’s just… Things are so much easier when it’s just me and you, I think. When neither of us are in relationships.” Your eyes were still closed and you were leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder as you spoke. “And I know we both want to find someone, and eventually have something serious and long-term and whatever. But, that doesn’t change the fact that when it’s just you and me… it’s really fucking nice.”

“I agree. Completely,” He said, voice soft.

The sigh you let out that time was one of relief. “Good. It’s nice to know that we’re both selfish and clingy in this friendship and just wanna keep each other for ourselves.”

You were only slightly joking with your words.

“In that case,” Steve started. “Maybe we should just date then.”

You let out a giggle as you finally opened your eyes and lifted your head before taking what was left of the joint away from him. “Okay, and I think that’s enough weed for you tonight. I think it just killed all of your most important brain cells.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding,” He told you and poked your side, which only made you laugh harder. “But, you’ve never thought about it before? Not once?”

“When I’m drunk and high, yes. At least, I think I do. Most of the time I can’t fully remember,” You answered, your giggles finally subsiding. “But, when I’m sober, no. I never think about it.”

Steve laughed at that.

“What?” You asked as you placed the small bit of what was left of the joint on the ledge of the window.

“I think I’m the same way. I only think about it when I’m so fucking drunk, or high like right now.”

You thought about his words for a second. They felt funny to you just like he thought, but they also felt like something different too.

“Is it weird that we do that?”

His gaze left yours for a moment. “I don’t know. Probably. Maybe.”

Maybe you two should’ve talked about it more; what that all meant, if anything. But you didn’t say anything else because it was easier to just convince yourself that all of what was said just then meant nothing, instead of even thinking about the slim possibility that maybe just maybe it could actually mean something.

So, you kept your mouth shut instead of asking a potentially friendship altering question, and you hoped to God and the universe and whatever else was out there that you wouldn’t be able to recall this part of the conversation in the morning.

“It’s snowing,” Steve said, and you were so grateful for the abrupt subject change because of his observation right then, and you hadn’t even noticed that it was snowing until he mentioned it.

It already seemed to be coming down a fair amount and you smiled at how pretty it looked. You had always loved snow, and you especially loved it even more after you met Steve because you then finally had someone to have snowball fights and build snowmen with.

You wiped away a snowflake that landed on your cheek. “The first fall of snow on the first day of Winter. How poetic?”

“Very,” Steve nodded. “Hopefully it’s not too bad by the morning. The kids will be annoyed if they can’t go to the diner for breakfast. And then we’ll sadly get stuck with having to cook them something.”

“Do you think that they just use us for free food and rides?”

“Oh, yeah, definitely,” He didn’t hesitate to answer. “Wanna go inside? I think the cold is making my high wear off too fast.”

“I would say yes, but I think my ass is now permanently frozen to this stair.”

Steve looked down. “Woah, shit, I didn’t even notice you were wearing shorts.”

“Wow, such a bad friend. You didn’t notice my suffering?” You said sarcastically with an overdramatic shake of your head. “And to think that I came out here to be a great friend and make sure you were okay and not wallowing out here alone. I even let you use some of my blanket.”

Steve laughed at your dramatics as he shrugged the blanket off of his shoulders and fully wrapped it around you instead. “Come on, let’s go inside. You can use the heated blanket that my mom got me last Christmas, if you want.”

“Aw, maybe you are a good friend,” You said jokingly.

He playfully rolled his eyes at you and stood up. “I just know that if you get sick, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

You smiled at him as he started pushing up the window. “You know me so well.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington series #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x fem #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things series

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waltzingwithyourenemyattheball · 1 year

Text

PICK A CARD: THIS MESSAGE WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE

Left: 111; Right: 333

Disclaimer:

🪈 Take what resonates and leave the rest

🪈 Disclaimer in highlight applies here

🪈 Thank you for letting me read for you, it has been a pleasure

🪈Personal readings are paid only.

🪈No one is allowed to copy my work under any circumstances.

✨111✨

You live life in defined stages, set in their ways, dislike change. Anal personality, structured, to-do lists that must be crossed off and any step out of the system creates irritation. You are doing something you don’t want, to get something you don’t want, simply because you once decided. You are being told to embrace partnership, learning how to dance would help, choose a dance style in which it involves two people going in a rhythm like salsa. This will help with adaptability and flexibility which you really need. Tightness in body will be gone to. You take the road taken while yearning for adventure, you think, but you never act. hesitant energy due to defeated mindset: first the world defeated you and now you defeat you. You need love, you like love, you crave love and affection but darn it if you show this. You crave intimacy. You like to seem tough. You want softness. A go-getter. Someone who says they don’t have time for love and will focus on their career. A free thinker who doesn’t like changes. Theme of love life: opposites attract like rebel meets high school sweetheart, princess and the frog, forbidden romance. Loyal to a fault. MAIN MESSAGE: Embrace partnerships especially romantic, it will change your life. Don’t rush but embrace, go out on dates, meet people, BE VULNERABLE. Now listen carefully: there is no shame in wanting to be loved, it’s the most human thing to feel. Work on this and many of your problems will vanish, like literally be banned from your life.

COMMENT ‘111’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

✨333✨

*If all this isn’t happening currently, it means you must make it happen* NEW BEGINNINGS. All the conflict and shame is in the past, all the cold wars, all the over analysis, complaining and gossiping, all the plans are out the window. It is a fresh new start. ‘Beautiful’ by NCT might be relevant for you. You have worked hard to save relationships, biting your tounge and all to the deterioration of your own happiness. No more. You are done. You are done in a good way. ALL YOUR focus and all you energy is being invested in changes, changing decor, moving homes, letting go of the stuff in your house that doesn’t bring you joy, a de-clutter. It’s like moving into a new environment where no one has a pre-concieved notion of who you are, so you can begin anew. You can be who you want to be. You are being told to not rush the process, it might already be at a good velocity, learn from your past but not let old experiences get in the way of making new ones. LEAVE THE BAGGAGE. CUT CORDS. It seems like you are moving away from family and siblings for some of you. A year from now, it’s a different story, a good one. CHANNELED PHRASES: new home, relief, reminiscing past as simply past with no negativity. You are a hard worker and it will be rewarded and I know you are tired of hearing the word patient, but you will be rewarded soon. Fight for your place in the world, don’t let people walk over you. Remember Energy flows where attention goes, if you constantly keep replaying the past in your head like a cassette and its like asking ‘Why won’t the music stop when I hit replay’, its because you are replaying it, and harbouring resentment. LEARN TO FIGHT BACK. Don’t show the other cheek, and make do. Make the best of the situation but that doesn’t mean you let go of your rights, please communicate your desires and work towards it, instead of running away from conflict. COMMENT ‘333’ To claim this! 🌙DM for a personal tarot reading🌙

EL TAROT

#pick a picture #pick a pile #pick an image #pac reading #pick a card reading #ask response #pick a photo #pick a card #free tarot #pac tarot #life #change life #channeled message #channeled reading #guidance

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l0lita-luv · 18 days

Note

Omgomgomgomg, okay but what about reader just being sooo dumb in love with Ellie? Like they can't stop looking and appreciating her cus look at herrrr. Randomly telling her always how pretty she is with this lovesick eyes while being clingy as fucckk.

Maybe she's trying to focus on something but she looks way too beautiful for reader to ignore it.

Btw I love ur acc, love all fluffy stuff <333

Omg I love this idea! Tysm for the support :) @isaybruuuuuhhhhhh

Lovesick

Ellie Williams x Love sick reader

Fluffy!

warnings- use of y/n-reader is not specified as a fem or masc-short :(

You can’t seem to focus on anything because of Ellie!

Ellie absolutely loved the attention you gave her, and of course you enjoyed giving it, but when you’re trying to focus on something not so much. You find yourself staring at Ellie any time she sits near you or even walks by you! “You’re so pretty Els…” you say it by now without even knowing! Ellie only chuckled and came by next to you, “Thank you baby but I think you need to focus.” Ellie tells you in a soft voice, you nod and turn your attention back to your work.

You had actually managed to finish but you missed Ellie dearly! You got up from your chair and made your way over to Ellie who was sat on the couch watching some comedy cartoon, “Ellie…did I ever tell you how much I love you and appreciate you?” you question, “I think you’ve said that about five times today y/n/n.” Ellie states. You nod and sit next to Ellie immediately clinging onto her, she smiles and gave you a kiss at the top of your head as you look up at her with those lovesick eyes.

After the episode finished she got up and you were quick to follow her, you grabbed her hand clinging onto it as you followed her to the kitchen. “Y/n, what do you think we should have for dinner today?” Ellie questions you, “Whatever you want Els!” You respond quickly staring at her, “You’re so pretty…” you state once again, “Thank you y/n/n.” She responds smiling at you.

Ellie ordered some food from an Italian restaurant and you both waited for the food to arrive.

After you both finished eating you cleaned up as Ellie helped you, “Can we go to bed now? I’m sleepy.” you ask Ellie, “Sure!” Ellie responds going forwards the bedroom, you follow close behind going into the bedroom.

You open your drawer and take out some pajamas as you take off what you had on before changing into what you had just grabbed, Ellie did the same as you went into the bathroom taking your toothbrush into your hand followed along with your toothpaste. You put a dollop toothpaste on the toothbrush and start brushing your teeth as you see Ellie coming into the bathroom to do the same. You both finish and climb into bed holding each other closely. “I love you Els.” You whisper softly, “Love you too y/n/n.” Ellie responds in the same tone.

wc-340

#l0lita luv #ellie williams x female reader #ellie willams x reader #ellie williams #ellie tlou #tlou #fanfic #oneshot #fluff

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withonly-sweetheart · 1 month

Text

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all.

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible.

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.”

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be.

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings.

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask.

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him.

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.”

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart.

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression.

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away.

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there.

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding.

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin.

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric.

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea.

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last."

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance.

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched.

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish.

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear.

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.”

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone.

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable.

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob.

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

#leon kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #leon kennedy re2 #re2 leon fanfic #leon kennedy fic #leon scott kennedy

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sophierequests · 2 years

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i have a request, my love! nikolai lantsov x reader

y/n is the sunshine-y, sweet person who literally brightens up any room. and she caught nikolai's eye and he tries to make his move but everytime he tries to talk to her he finds himself... well, unable to get proper words out. he can't string together a single sentence. y/n picks up on this and teases him ('cause he's obviously known as a flirt) and makes it a bit harder before she finally asks him out herself

you take my breath away

Navigation┃Main Masterlist┃Request

Pairing: Nikolai Lantsov x f!Reader

A/N: *screams because this is such a cute idea* Omg omg omg, I LOVE THAT IDEA, EL! Nikolai being nervous and flustered >>> Thank you sm for the request, I loved writing it! I hope you enjoy reading this <333

Summary: What happens to the oh so charming Nikolai Lantsov when he starts crushing on a someone that - quite literally - takes away his breath?

Genre: Comedy, Fluff

Word Count: 4.4K

Warnings: Mention of sword fighting, pining, oblivious!Nikolai, slightly suggestive ending if you squint, Zoya being an icon

“Zoya, I really don’t think that all of this,” he ambiguously gestured at the array of files in front of him, “is as good of an idea as you think it is.”

The Squaller groaned, hauling the papers towards herself again. The two of them had been wasting their time in his sitting room for hours on end, flipping through files and files of eligible royal women that could become Nikolai’s future wife. It was hell - for both of them - but Ravka needed a queen. So as king, it was his duty to find someone that could rule alongside him.

If he would be completely truthful, he already had someone in mind. Someone that was roughly his age, not promised to anyone else and of royal blood. Meaning, that someone would tick all of the necessary boxes.

You were one of the rather newer Ladies at Ravkan court. Your parents were a duke and duchess who he didn't necessarily remember meeting. Yet, ever since he first laid his eyes on you, he was absolutely smitten with you. You'd be an excellent choice. He really liked to think that. You got along with everyone you interacted with - at least to his knowledge -, you were kind, well-spirited and utterly lovely. You were a literal ray of sunshine, and he couldn’t get enough of you. It was almost like you were born to be a queen - his queen.

Everything seemed to be so perfect. The only issue was that he couldn't even get out one word before his brain went into shutdown when you were around. He had tried and tried to strike up a conversation with you, only to fail miserably. It was as if all of his usually flirty demeanour had been stripped off of him, and he was left with the confidence of an insecure stuttering teenage boy. He had been with countless women before but never had he been left this helpless.

The first time he attempted talking to you, was probably already enough of an embarrassment for you to never give in to any of his advances.

Nikolai had just finished another terribly draining conference and, as much as tried to get his mind off of all things political, he still had another dreadful load of paperwork waiting for him once he reached his sitting room.

He has been so lost in thought, that he didn't register the other person that was coming around the corner. And with both of you not paying any real attention to where you were going, you ran straight into him at full speed. But before he could - quite literally - knock you off of your feet, his arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you steady. It took you a minute to break free from your daze when you noticed who you were currently staring at.

"Oh Saints! Your Highness! I'm so incredibly sorry. I should have watched where I was going." You apologized profusely, taking a step back to give him a bit more personal space.

"Don't apologize, it's fine!" He started grinning like a fool after he realized who he was talking to. Your hair looked slightly out of place - probably a side effect from almost toppling over - but somehow, you still managed to look absolutely magnificent. His heart couldn’t help but skip a beat while he watched a faint blush rise to your cheeks.

And when a wide smile began to grace your lips, he almost thought that he would pass out. In a treacherous motion, he could feel that his own cheeks started to warm up now. How he hated this.

"Oh, thank you, Your Highness! I have just been so lost in thought that I didn't watch where I was going."

"Please, it's call me- I mean, please call me Vas- Nikola! Nikolai. Please call me Nikolai." Well done, he couldn't even introduce himself correctly anymore.

"Alright Nikolai," you let the name roll over your tongue slowly as if you were trying to savour its taste, "I'm not one for titles either, so feel free to call me Y/N." He wanted to answer, to say or do pretty much anything else, instead of just gaping at you as if you had grown a second head.

You had expected him to offer you a cheeky comment or a flirtatious smirk in response, but the cogs in his brain still seemed to process your words. It was odd, and not at all what you had expected. You had heard stories about the smug and cocky Ravkan king, who was never too shy to hand out brash compliments or whisper promiscuous promises into the ears of any young woman that would give him more than one minute of her time. The man standing in front of you seemed to be anything but that.

Before you could open your mouth to break the uncomfortable silence, a voice calling out his name and the clicking of heels could be heard coming from the corridor right next to him.

"Nikolai? Nikolai! Did you forget that we still have some correspondence to take care of today?" A slightly agitated Zoya came into view, eying you from head to toe, however, still giving you a polite nod.

"I should better get going. I didn’t mean to keep you from your work, Nikolai. Enjoy yourselves!” You gave him one last smirk before turning on your heels and continuing your way down the corridor.

“Thank you!” He didn’t even know what exactly he was thanking you for. “Have a great evening!” Zoya stifled a snort when she heard that.

“Nikolai, it’s not even time for lunch yet. The poor girl will think that she’s the one going crazy.” She remarked, her eyes drifting from watching you leave to Nikolai’s still mildly flustered state. She’d definitely remember this.

“Why don’t you just marry Lady Y/L/N? She fits the criteria, she probably doesn’t plan to strangle you in your sleep, and you seem to have found quite the liking in her. That’s probably the best choice you have.” Zoya exclaimed, falling back into her chair as she continued to stare Nikolai down.

“I can’t.”

“And the reason for that is…? You need to give me more than that. I may be extremely lucky to have this many talents, but mind reading sadly isn’t one of them.”

“Keeping secrets isn’t really one of your many talents either, Zoya.” Nikolai averted his gaze, thinking that looking through another mountain of profiles would be way more comfortable than having to explain why he didn’t think that courting you would be possible.

“Lantsov, you’re not getting any younger, and you’re sure as hell not getting any prettier, no matter how long you’re trying to postpone this. Just tell me, and we can move on!” She was seconds away from tossing his royal ass out of the window but getting thrown in prison for the murder of the literal king wasn’t too desirable.

“I’m certain that she believes me to be an absolute fool.” The young king sighed, hiding the embarrassment on his face with one hand.

“Many people do. It would surprise me if your future wife wouldn’t think of you as such.”

“No, no, you don’t understand. I can’t even formulate one coherent sentence whenever she is around, and it is driving me mad! Whenever I attempt to make a move on her, every single logical thought abandons the ship and leaves me gaping like a fish on land.” He mumbled defeatedly. “She has to assume I’m just looking for an excuse not to be around her.”

This time, Zoya didn’t hold back the laugh she had been holding in. She didn’t know what she expected, but this definitely wasn’t it.

“Won’t you look at that? Ravka’s Sweetheart gets all hot and bothered in the presence of a girl he likes.” She took a sip from the glass of wine she was holding before returning her attention to a sulking Nikolai. “She’s the most suitable choice, Nikolai. Keep on pursuing her, until you’re one hundred per cent sure that she isn’t worth it. And maybe she thinks your nervousness is endearing? That would be a bit pathetic, but that seems to be your type.”

Apparently, Zoya also seemed to have a gift for clairvoyance, because her last two statements held more truth than she had envisioned.

You had picked up on Nikolai’s odd behaviour whenever he was around you quite soon after that first hallway encounter. At first, you thought that there had to be something wrong with you. How else could it be explained that you were the only girl at court he just couldn’t hold a conversation with? But soon enough you realized that it wasn’t apprehension, but genuine fluster that made him act like this. And it felt terrible admitting it, but you enjoyed using this information against him.

It had been three days since your last brief encounter with the king, and your mind was putting your quest of teasing him on the back burner. That was until you silently crept into the library of the Grand Palace, only to find him hunched over a heap of books, occasionally taking notes or letting out a huffed breath.

“Nikolai?” You mused, sauntering over to him with an innocent smile on your lips. The blond had to do a double-take when he saw you appear from behind the shelves. Saints, someone should really open a window.

“Lad- Y/N!” He gave you a strained smile, slyly straightening his back and smoothing out his sleeves. Did his hair sit properly? Did his breath smell? Did he-

“What are you doing here this late?” You leaned against the desk opposite Nikolai, your upper body slightly bent over the table, very visibly accentuating your cleavage. You really would be the death of him.

He haggled for the right words to say, but everything inside his mind screamed at him to abort the mission. He wasn’t ready to talk. Not when the two of you were completely alone, and you looked like a literal Saint.

“Reading.” He forced out, immediately regretting that he even opened his mouth.

“Oh?” You asked quizzically, rounding the table to stand beside him, giving yourself a better look at the books in front of him. One of your hands rested on the backrest of his chair - dangerously close to touching his neck or playing with his hair - and the other hand laid on the edge of the desk. “What are you reading?” You could have just turned the book around to see for yourself, but you were set on toying with him for a bit.

“Ravkan and Fjerdan poeti- political relationships.” He had to stifle a cough after he felt the soft breeze of your breath hit his neck. You were close. Very close.

“Care for some company?” Nikolai’s eyes met yours as he considered the possibility of having you stay here. He would probably get nothing done, but he had the chance to finally make a move. That’s what he imagined, at least.

“Gladly.”

“Very well then.” That’s all you needed to hear before pulling out your own novel and sitting down in the chair right next to him.

As he had already suspected, he couldn’t even get through one page without allowing his eyes to wander towards you. And whenever he caught himself doing so, he had already forgotten what he had read only mere seconds before. He knew that you were quite literally just trying to read your book, but even that simple gesture made his heart beat a thousand times faster.

“Oh dear!” You uttered after taking a quick glance at the grandfather clock in the corner. “I’ve been in here for almost three hours! I should really leave you alone now, Nikolai. I still have a few duties to fulfil.” A faint chuckle left your lips, as you finished speaking, watching the man next to you gawk at the clock in disbelief. Three hours had passed, and he had neither finished any of his work nor managed to ask you out. Maybe he should allow Zoya to kill him. He supposed that death would be more welcoming than whatever little spiel fate had concocted for him.

There were two more instances of you absolutely giving him hell. And oddly, both of them included a territory that he should’ve had the upper hand in. The training grounds.

Nikolai wasn’t too keen on wasting any thought about sparring or other physical activities today. But staying inside the Palace would result in Zoya berating him about finally choosing a wife, so he preferred prancing around with a sword for a few hours.

However, his attention was promptly seized by hearing a burst of loud wholehearted laughter coming from the direction of the archery area. Without thinking, he allowed himself to take a look at whatever was going on over there.

He watched you talking to one of the archery instructors, a wide smile on your face as you excitedly listened to her while she explained something to you. You looked like some sort of mythical creature out of a folksong and he couldn’t help but smile at that thought.

Something inside him told him to move and before he could even start considering all of the negative outcomes of that thought, he already began walking towards you.

“Your Highness!” The woman next to you gave him a curt nod as she noticed him approaching. You felt a grin tug at the corners of your lips as you saw who she was greeting.

“Good afternoon, may I ask what is going on here?” Nikolai tried his best to not let his gaze wander over to you. He was sure that if he’d spend too much time looking at you, he would lose his capacity to form sentences again.

“I was just about to teach Lady Y/L/N how to properly shoot an arrow. She seems to be rather interested in the craft, but I sadly don’t have too much time today to show her everything.” The teacher rasped, letting her fingers run over the wooden part of the bow.

“As I mentioned earlier, I can also come back another ti-”

“I could show you.” Both of your gazes instantly flicked over to the young king, who was currently cursing himself for not being able to just shut up. Now he had to run with it.

“Are you sure?” You asked softly, raising an eyebrow to underline your question. “You don’t have to. I assume you’re terribly busy.”

“No, I, uhm, I insist.” He reassured, taking the bow from the instructor and signalling to her that he would take over now.

Only when he thought about what he was actually supposed to do, he started to realize what he had gotten himself into.

“Archery is a delicate skill.” He began, handing you the bow and arrow. “Everything stands and falls with how adept your aim is.” You took the arrow and adjusted it on the bowstring, imitating the posture you had seen many times before. Nikolai stood behind you, carefully monitoring your moves, whilst also trying not to get overwhelmed by your closeness. “Try to, you know, uhm, aim. Aim for the heart, I mean.” Saints, he sounded stupid.

“Like this?” You asked smugly, leaning back a bit closer to him and roughly pointing the arrow in the direction of the training puppet’s chest.

“No, you need- you have to-” He took a deep breath, stepping even closer to you now. “Look.” Both his hands found their way to yours. One helped you steady your grip on your bow, while the other corrected your aim ever so slightly. Your skin felt like lightning underneath his fingertips, and for a moment, he was glad that he could simply visualize his thoughts without having to embarrass himself by being a stuttering mess.

He pulled the arm that held onto the arrow back a bit, permitting you to shoot. However, he completely underestimated your proximity, especially the proximity to your elbows. Whether that was because of his lack of archery mentorship experience or simply because he was too focused on you was something he didn't want to answer. As soon as you let go of the arrow, your elbow flew back, right into his chest with full force, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Nikolai!” You yelped, cringing at the sight of the violently coughing blond behind you. This was not how any of you had hoped this would turn out. "Saints, are you alright!?"

“Good shot." He choked out as you hastily dropped the bow to help him stand. Against all odds, the arrow had gone straight into the centre of the target, however, you had other worries to tend to.

"Did I hurt you?" Your hands held on tightly to the fabric of his sleeves, fearing that one measly blow might have managed to knock the air right out of him.

"Fine. I mean, I'm fine." He sputtered, admittedly distracted by the feeling of your hands on his biceps. Your touch was practically scorching his skin without even having to make skin contact. He was definitely going insane.

"We really should stop making violence the climax of our interactions."

This wouldn't ring true, of course.

The next time you ventured down to the makeshift training grounds a few days later, you were met with the sight of Nikolai and Tolya practising their sword fighting skills. You kept an eye on them for a while before actually venturing down to the men.

It was as if Nikolai could sense your presence because as soon as you stepped closer to the platform, his gaze met yours. This brief distraction gave Tolya enough time to deliver one heavy swing to the base of his sparring partner's sword, disarming him in the blink of an eye.

Nikolai stared at the discarded sword and then back up at the Shu man in front of him. He rarely ever lost these kinds of duels, especially not because of some minor mistake like losing his focus. Things such as the size or competence of his opponent didn't matter substantially, since he had the advantage of being quick on his feet and the knowledge on how to outsmart the majority of his competition. Only losing because you were around seemed to be another act of fate telling him that he wasn't able to function properly when you were around.

"Lady Y/L/N." The mountain of a man greeted you happily, curtly shaking hands with Nikolai before walking off to bother his sister and her wife.

Again, the king seemed to have a frog stuck in his throat. He just couldn't get a word to leave his mouth. Instead, he continued to ogle at you with a hint of humiliation flashing over his features.

This time barely anyone could really blame him for that though. Your usually bright and well-put-together wardrobe, consisting of colourful dresses or professional-looking robes, we're now replaced by the suitable training attire one would expect a Lady to frown at.

Unable to string a coherent sentence together, he raised his eyebrows, vaguely motioning up and down your body with the hope that you would understand his unsaid question. Saints, he really felt stupid.

"Cat got your tongue, Nikolai?" You laughed, skipping up the stairs to face him properly. If your eyes weren't trying to deceive you, you could have sworn that he was blushing when you approached him. "Or did my utterly enchanting appearance simply take away your breath?" He gave you an unintelligible answer before just nodding in defeat.

“It’s just that, uhm, Lady- I mean, it’s just not wh-” He attempted futilely, but you were quick to cut him off.

“I know, I know. This flattering article of clothing is not really what people would expect me to wear. But I thought it would be nice to get some training done, or else my joints might begin to rust.”

“Training?” Nikolai blurted out, utterly bewildered. It wasn’t entirely unusual for the women at court to receive some sort of self-defence training - not all royal men were as decent as he was - but it was pretty unlikely for them to indulge in actual combat training.

“I used to sword fight with my older brothers whenever I had the time to do so. I’m not particularly good at it though.” That was a slight lie. You didn’t necessarily look the part, but in reality, you were talented when it came to dealing with a sword. However, that was a fact you’d rather keep to yourself, not wanting others to see you as brash or brutish.

“Oh.” He grinned, a new idea on how to get over his nervousness popped into his head. Maybe a nice little training session would do your relationship some good.

“Oh?”

“Do you, uhm, want me to- Would you like me to train with you?” He internally patted himself on the shoulder for finally managing to string together one mildly coherent sentence. And he could pat himself on the shoulder once more when he noticed the playful nature of your expression.

“If you dare.” You teased, picking up the discarded sparring sword off of the ground.

Both of you readied yourselves - you giving him a short bow before taking the position across from him. With the motion of a hand, he signalled to begin, being quick to do so.

His first move was bold, way too bold for it to actually be effective. You parried his blow with an agile countermove, warding him off strongly enough to force him to take a step back. This dance continued for a while longer, with only a few attacks actually coming from you, while you were mainly busying yourself with fighting off his advances.

There was one move you weren’t able to fight off.

He had only retracted his hand for a split second before he sprang forward again, a fierce blow disarming you immediately. However, that wasn’t the end of it. You could’ve still reached for the weapon, but he quickly blocked that move with his own, putting the unsharpened blade to your throat and pulling you against his chest. None of that was done with any real force, but his brashness still managed to catch you slightly off-guard.

You didn’t let allow him to bathe in his supposed victory any more than needed. If he wanted to play dirty, so could you. You cocked your head to the side just enough to face him. He was already slightly overwhelmed by you being pinned against his chest, so you knew that any sense of flirtatiousness coming from you, would make his brain go into shutdown.

It took you one cheeky wink to make him gape at you again. So without thinking about it, your foot slid behind his, abruptly bringing it forward to make him lose balance. He stumbled for a moment before clumsily falling backwards, however, also taking you down with him.

With a groan coming from Nikolai, you tumbled right on top of him, staying on his chest for a second to catch your breath. When you dared to open your eyes, your face was only inches from his. If either of you had decided to be especially bold, you would have probably finally put each other out of your self-imposed misery. However, neither of you dared to do so.

You barely saw him the following week. Which shouldn’t have been such a bad thing if the failed training session from the week prior wasn’t so engrained in both of your minds. You wanted to see him. No, you needed to see him. It was time to end your teasing spree - even though you did thoroughly enjoy it - and make the first move. Because Saints know whether Nikolai would ever have it in him to ask you out himself.

“Nikolai?” You cracked open the door to his sitting just enough to look inside. His eyes snapped to meet yours, the previous tiredness vanishing from his chestnut-coloured eyes. He gave you an inviting nod, and you accepted his offer gracefully.

“Lady Y/N- Lady- I mean-” He cut himself off, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking a deep breath. “Listen, I’m sorry, this, this is starting to get embarrassing. It’s just that-”

“I know.” You stopped him in his ramblings, only leaving him with a confused expression.

“You know?” He took a sharp breath, suddenly feeling as if a rug had been pulled from beneath his feet.

“You haven’t been that subtle over the last few weeks, so yes, Nikolai. I know that you have feelings for me.” You watched as his face went through at least a hundred emotions, ranging from relief to shock.

“Wait,” He paused, his brows furrowed and mouth slightly agape. “You were aware of my feelings the entire time?”

“That’s what I’m implying.” Now he genuinely felt like an idiot.

“You did all of that teasing on purpose?”

“Well, I wouldn’t really call it teasing. I was just waiting for you to make the first move.” You gave him a playful wink, sitting down at the edge of his desk right in front of him in a last act of riling him up. “But I figured that I didn’t want to wait until I’m old and wrinkly, so I might as well take matters into my own hand.”

“Take matters into-” You didn’t allow him to finish, instead pressing a brash kiss against his lips. This could either go terribly wrong or terribly right.

Thankfully, Nikolai was ready to answer this question. All of a sudden, all of his nervousness seemed to have vanished into thin air. With a swift move, he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you off the desk and into his lap whilst returning the kiss with even more urgency. He didn’t regret not making the first move now. At last, there were no words left to be said.

“Does that mean that I can finally stop wasting my time looking for your future bride?” Zoya called into the room, almost causing you to fall off of his lap. “I suppose they won’t be needed anymore.”

Taglist:

Grishaverse in general: @yesshewrites1 @dal-light

Nikolai Lantsov: @ell0ra-br3kk3r @kaye-here @maximoffgxrl

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone #grishaverse #grishaverse x reader

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vivid-ink · 1 year

Text

'The Love Shack' Part III - Blurring Lines - Teaser Snippet

Relationship: Neteyam(23) x fem!Omatikaya reader(21) x Lo'ak(22)

Author's Note: Hello my lovelies! As promised, here's a little teaser snippet this weekend of Part III of 'The Love Shack'! 😘 The whole of Part III will be uploaded next weekend. I'm already 6.5k into composing it & it's shaping up to be toe-curling already. This teaser post is also a test for my taglist (which I'm so blown away by the size of! Thank you to everyone for all your support!!) 😊

Part I - The Proposition HERE Part II - Three is a Perfect Crowd HERE UPDATE: Part III now available HERE

Part III Summary: You've spent weeks now, meeting with Neteyam & Lo'ak at the old outpost to play... You enjoy them both, but your feelings for Neteyam are becoming trickier to navigate. And unbeknownst to you, Neteyam is finding it difficult to share you... He wants you all to himself, away from his brother and away from other prying eyes...

Neteyam’s lips scored a heated path down the side of your neck with his lapping kisses. His massaging hands had moved from kneading the muscles in your shoulders to trail over your collarbone, drifting lower until his calloused palms met your hardened nipples.

Slick from the bath oil, you leant back against him while he gently massaged your breasts, his lips nibbling at the delicate points of your ears now. You’d never realised how sensitive your ears were, but they were definitely an erogenous zone for you. Every nip and kiss to the soft skin there made your legs weak and your core pulse.

You could feel the solid length and weight of his erection pressing insistently into your lower back like an unspoken invitation to you of the bodily ecstasy it could bring you. Neteyam verbalised his invitation, nonetheless, in a rumbling purr, “Play with me tonight. Here. Just you and me.”

Your thighs gave an involuntary squeeze together, the ache in your pussy growing so intense it felt hotter than the water of the hot spring you currently stood in. You felt Neteyam clasp your jaw with one hand, tilting your head back and twisting your face so he could plunder your mouth with his lips and tongue. The velvet sweep and suction of his kiss ensured that whatever hesitation you had was promptly abandoned.

However, you couldn’t help a sassy retort from leaving your lips, “I don’t know. You don’t have any of those sex toys here tonight to rock my world.”

Neteyam bent his knees slightly, bringing his hips in line with your bottom, and he reached down to reposition his cock so it could slide between your thighs and against your slick folds. His chuckle was dark and his voice was full of sensuous promise in the most sinful of ways, “Oh paskalin, you and I both know that I don’t need any of those toys to have you screaming my name tonight.”

***~~~***

Taglist so far: @teymars @eyweveng @leaveitbythewave @luvteyams @akiras-key @bajbr @qcswrites @reggiesslut @neteluvr @savvysscandles @dasaniix @emery-333 @vintaqestar @live-laugh-neteyam @itssomeonereading @strawberry-vamp0 @clairevoyancee @delacruzyari @bluecooki3 @aalex561-blog @frustrated-kitten @innercreationflower @wolf12thsworld @wheneclipsefalls @iameatingmyhair @ele-sme @investedreader @oasiswithmyg @daeneeryss @pandorxxx @anonka01 @hunbomb @pandoraslxna @adrianarose7 @sunghoonmyluv @notnat02 @getthisoverwith33 @simp4myself @spicymayyo @animehoe1-800 @daddysmurfslefttoenail @iman-lu @creepytoes88 @flyingspacewhale @neteyamswifesworld @lostress101 @nilsavatar @cloudyw1ndzz @itsjazzsworld @solemnlover @asweetblueberry2 @blue-slxt @slutforderekhale @swaggygurlbae @clairevoyanceee

Please let me know if I've got your tag wrong (some of them won't work 😔) Anyone else who'd like to be added to the taglist, leave me a request in the comments and I'll add you. 😊

UPDATE: Full Part III now available HERE

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sevscig · 8 months

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movie night? -loserbestfriend!ellie ❤

hope y'all enjoy<33

I'm so bored so ima write loserbestfriend!ellie and reader, this isn't proof read or anything, but light smut, not much, it's also just kinda implied. But lmk how I did baby'ssss<333

cw. Making out, uhh I think that's it

652 words in all!

You and Ellie have been best friends for years, well since you guys were fourteen. Teasing her to the point of her not even being able to look in your direction was the funniest. Ellie was like a lost puppy when around you, always following you, listening to you rant about the same thing over and, over again. She did it because it was you though, and she was helplessly in love with you, and has been since you guys were fourteen. You were just too stupid and clueless to notice it.

You guys had just gotten back from patrol, and you were ranting about your patrol with Jesse yesterday for the fourth time today, and she was listening to every detail again. "And He just kept bugging me, and making stupid jokes. He's so annoying, that's why him and dina have been on and off for the last year." You snapped throwing your shoes in the corner of the room as Ellie chuckled quietly behind you, "Are you laughing at me you ass? " You groaned throwing a pillow at her to which she just accepted her fate.

"You still up for movie night today orrr are you gonna third wheel dina and jesse again?" You hummed, moving around your room, Ellie wasn't paying attention to anything that was coming out of your lips, she was more focused on your lips. Imaging what they would feel like against hers, against her skin. She was so lost in thought she didn't even realize how flustered she was making herself, she looked like a fucking tomato. "You aren't even paying attention." You grumbled throwing a pair of socks at her, " uh-yes? Yes I am, I was paying attention. " she stuttered out, rubbing her arm nervously, because she definitely wasnt paying attention.

"Oh really? What did I say then?" shit The only thing she heard was... "a movie?" She guessed nervously, to which you jumped over to her, sitting on her lap, fuck, you were close. "I said, Are you still up for movie night today, orrr are you gonna third-wheel dina and jesse again?" You whispered, smiling cheesily at her, that stupid grin. She swallowed hard, trying not to think so much about the fact that you were on her lap, she could feel the heat of you on her thighs. "oOh-right, yea yea, our movie night. Hmn, I'm staying here tonight, so sure." She mumbled quietly, as if she spoke any louder, she would scare you away.

She wasn't sure where to put her hands, did she put them in your waist? Your hips? You know, maybe it was best to keep her hands at her sides. You were looking at her differently; you never looked at her this way before, it made her feel...small. "You're so pretty els." You whispered putting a piece of her hair behind her ear, you were teasing her right? "T..thanks, but I feel like you're teasing." She whispered, you guys were so close she could feel your warm breath against her lips, she knew she was red as a fucking tomato again.

"Is this teasing?" You whispered breathlessly leaning into her, your lips grazed hers, they slotted together perfectly. She wasn't sure what she was expecting from you, but it definitely wasn't this. Her hands made their way to your hips, squeezing gently as you deepened the kiss, your tongue making its way into her mouth as you explored, your hands tangled in her hair, and every time she squeezed your hips, you tugged on her small bun, earning a groan to ripple through her throat.

Clearly, the movie was long forgotten about.

AHHH!? HII, IDKK IF THAT WAS GOOD, SO YALL WANT A PART TWO?? (wwith smut of course.) I was nervous about posting my last piece of writing but THANK Y'ALL FOR THE SUPPORT!! LOVE Y'ALL MWAH MWAH MWAHHH!!!<<<333 ❤❤❤

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elsfavor1te · 2 years

Note

some short hc’s maybe of ellie x reader being in a MESSY situationship… constantly trying to be seen with other people to make the other jealous, late night calls, all that. love your writing 🤍

BLURRED LINES.

warnings: collegeau!ellie williams x fem!reader. messy friends with benefits situation. ellie is mentioned as being possessive and toxic but i don’t think she really acts toxic, jus a little possessive. 18+ smut! strap is mentioned, (r receiving). jealous!ellie, jealous!reader, mutual pining, fluffy ending with a bit of angst if you squint, lmk if i forgot anything!

this was fun to write, thanks for the ask anon. <333 (just realized you said short… i hope this is okay😭.

what happened between you and ellie was supposed to be a one time thing. you got high together and fucked, so what?

then one time became two.. and two turned into whenever you both felt like it. of course you both agreed not to catch feelings for the other (as if that shit ever works out).

you didn’t have feelings for her though, you don’t think. and you’re almost positive ellie doesn’t have feelings for you. she’s just—possessive and a toxic asshole.

a possessive and toxic asshole who knows how to make you needy with just a glance.

anyways as it does when anyone is in a friends with benefits relationship in the history of like forever, lines got blurred.

it started with little shit like bringing a plus one to a shitty college party that you knew she’d be at. you’d always deny it if anyone asks but you loved seeing that little glint she got in her eye when you were grinding back against someone in the middle of someone’s dingy kitchen, stepping on the occasional red solo cup.

you knew it made her jealous (if that’s the right word to use?) from the way your conversations went the next time you texted her, wanting to hook up.

‘you free tn?’

‘that bitch with the purple hair not fucking my girl well enough? come over.’

you loved when she called you her girl. it made your stomach erupt in butterflies and your mind swirl in silly ‘what ifs’.

that night when you did come over, ellie was different. not in a bad way by any means.

the way she had your ankle up by her ear as her purple strap pounded you into the mattress was nothing short of heavenly. she’d bend down to whisper in your ear, folding you like a fucking pretzel in the process. “she can’t fuck you like this, hmm?”

you would just moan, back arching into her at the new angle. you never had sex with that girl but if it kept you getting fucked like this? ellie never had to know that.

“answer my fucking question.” her hand would slap your thigh, leaving it burning before she’d soothe her hand over it.

“no- fuck,” you’d whimper, looking up at her with big glassy eyes. “just you els. no one can fuck me like you can.”

she’d be satisfied with that answer.

———

other times it’s the occasional late night facetime. you’d be up already, working on assignments because you’re never caught up.

“hey els. what’s up?” you’d speak into the phone, propping up your phone on your laptop so she could see you.

you looked a mess, messy bun, tank top hanging off of one shoulder and no bra. to ellie you were the prettiest like this— or alternatively when you had just cum and had that relaxed glow as she cleaned you both up.

“nothin, can’t sleep. wanted to call and see if you were awake too.”

your eyebrows furrow, “you always seem tired lately, you okay?”

“m’fine,” she’d laugh gently at your expression. “you worrying about me, sweet girl?”

“mm,” you hum. “just need to make sure my booty call is fully rested.”

it was your turn to laugh now at her faux shocked face. “jus kidding. you were my bestfriend before the whole sex thing of course i worry about you.”

ellie’s would swear her heart tried to jump out of her chest when you said that. “come over.”

“el, i have so much work to do before my class tomorrow.”

“bring it. no sex i promise, just me nd you like before. you can sleepover when you’re done.”

you didn’t need much convincing other than that, starting to pack your stuff into your backpack. ellie would make you stay on the phone as you walked the 3 minutes to her dorm room. she would ask if she could come pick you up instead, then you could walk back together but you denied so she had to settle for this.

———

your heart would clench painfully when she posted one of her usual photo dumps but somewhere buried in there’s a picture of her smiling with some girl kissing her cheek. she looked happy, and her cheeks were that pretty pink color. you would try and think if you ever made her smile like that.

unbeknownst to you, ellie threw that picture in just for you to see it. to throw out some feelers to see if you felt the same way as her, if you’d approach her about it. in reality that was just her friend dina, completely platonic relationship considering shes with her other friend, jesse.

what she didn’t expect was for you to ghost her for a week and a half to the point where she had to show up at your dorm. her eyes would be low and red, needing the courage in the form of weed.

when you opened the door, you’d kind of freeze, not expecting her to be on the other side.

“why are you ignoring me?”

you took notice of her high state, “you’re high.”

“no shit. i’m always high. why are you ignoring my texts?” she would step around you and into your dorm room.

“yes that’s fine, just come in.” you muttered under your breath. “i’m not ignoring you..i’m busy. you know how much i procrastinate. and you’re not always high. don’t say it like that.”

the truth was that you were scared, ridiculously so. after seeing the picture you started to wonder if ellie was out of your league, sure you’re bestfriends and sure you’re having sex but that’s it.

that lead to the realization that you wanted more. you wanted more than casual sex and the occasional hangout. you couldn’t tell her this though. being her bestfriend, you’ve seen the way she breaks hearts, you didn’t wanna be just another girl to her.

“so what? you’ve procrastinated all of your life and you’ve always atleast made the effort to tell me you’d be busy for the week so what the hell is it?”

“ellie.”

your name fell from her lips mockingly.

“can we just not? i don’t wanna talk about it.”

she sits down in your desk chair, turning it to face you and pulling you by the backs of your thighs between her legs. “did i do something?”

you look away, fearing that she may be able to look through your eyes and read your mind.

“look at me.” she’d move one of her hands from your thigh to turn your face back to her. the one hand she left on you felt as if it was burning through the material of your pants and making your stomach swirl. “you remember why you said our friendship has lasted so long? because we communicate. communicate with me, babe.”

you gazed into her attentive green eyes, gently biting on your bottom lip nervously as you debate on telling her the truth. you didn’t know if you were ready to lose your bestfriend to something as silly as catching feelings.

you go against the rationality your brain is screaming at you. “i think- i think i’m in love with you.”

your heart drops and your eyes start to well with tears when she doesn’t say anything and just kind of stares at you.

“i know— i know we said we wouldn’t catch feelings and i’m sorry.” your voice breaks. “i—“

you’re cut off by the feeling of ellie’s lips crashing onto yours. at first you’re shocked and kind of frozen in place but then you move, opening your mouth slightly for her tongue to slip in.

“you— you love me?” she asks, her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath.

you nod gently, confused at what’s happening.

“i love you. and i can’t believe you fucking folded before i did.”

————

sidenote, this is so them. reader is blue and ellie is grey.

#mimi writes! ꕥ #mimi answers! ⚘#i loved writing this #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #ellie williams fic #tlou2 #ellie williams x fem!reader #ellie the last of us #ellie tlou #ellie williams x y/n #college ellie williams #anon #ellie williams smut #ellie williams hurt/comfort #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams drabble

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flan-tasma · 6 months

Note

good morning, how are you? I would like to request a kissing session with gaming pretty pleaseeeee i love your writing <333

💖~ Thanks for asking! I've been doing well, and I hope you're having a great day too. Thank you for your nice words too!

Thank you for making a Gaming request! He is so adorable, I just want to pinch his cheeks because he is a great boy and he deserves it.

Warning: Nope now💖, GN!Reader | English is not my native language, so if I have made any mistakes in the translation, I am open to corrections | Content in spanish and english!

Spanish:

Es un amor, es el mejor novio del mundo. Es el más divertido, el más amable y el más comprensivo, por eso es tan genial estar con él. Gaming siempre te trata de manera tan delicada, como si fueras su mayor tesoro y temiera que tu piel se dañe por sus uñas, por lo que siempre te acaricia con la yema de sus dedos cuando te levanta el mentón para dejar un beso en tu nariz.

Siempre inicia así, nunca empieza besando tus labios, en cambio, está dispuesto a besar tu rostro completo antes de darse ese lujo. Puede que te muerda cariñosamente las mejillas, pero solo son sus formas cariñosas de amarte y molestarte: toma tus manos para que no te alejes, te sostiene de la cintura o te abraza, solo no quiere que te vayas cuando empieza a danzar contigo hasta el sofá.

Le gusta besarte cuando va pasando, cuando se despide para ir al trabajo o cuando te saluda en la mañana, te besa la mejilla y se va. Pero para los besos largos que te da, es imprescindible que ambos estén cómodos.

Sostiene tus mejillas luego de besarlas, te mira con amor y fascinación antes de hacer que te acerques más a él, prácticamente acurrucados en los cojines. No importa si su cuerpo es naturalmente más cálido que lo normal, tú no vas a alejarte, ¿verdad? Por eso es que se permite enredarse contigo cuando por fin reclama tus labios, acariciándolos suavemente y con confianza, dibujando una sonrisa cada vez más grande en su rostro.

Se toma su tiempo para adorarte, paseando sus manos por tu espalda y tu cabello cada vez que busques respirar contra sus labios, susurrando cumplidos dulces contra tus oídos, llamándote su pareja, como alguien que aún no entiende cómo pasó, pero que está sumamente agradecido.

Se deja mimar por tus besos y tus caricias, ronroneando entre tus brazos cuando lo abrazas de igual modo y le dejas ser tan mimoso y cariñoso como quiere. Ha tenido un día largo, independiente de si fue pesado o no, ahora solo quiere besarte hasta no poder más.

Es una llama, te calienta suavemente, te atrapa en una casa de madera, pero las flamas no se expanden, no busca quemarte ni abrumarte, no quiere que te dé calor, por lo que te permite abrir las ventanas mientras que le permitas abrazarte con su manto. Es adicto a sentir que le peinas el cabello al mismo tiempo que paseas tus labios sobre sus párpados, puedes sentir que sus dedos dejan arrugas en tu blusa.

Es una chimenea agradable, te permite acercar la mano al fuego y besa tus dedos uno por uno. Tu piel no se chamusca, sino que te deja con el recuerdo de sus besos como un río que cae por tu carne.

Apasionado y cálido, gentil y devoto. Gaming adora besarte, pero su corazón se rinde cuando le devuelves el cariño

English:

He is a sweetheart, he is the best boyfriend in the world. He's the funniest, kindest, and most understanding, which is why he's so great to be with. Gaming always treats you so delicately, as if you were his greatest treasure and he was afraid that your skin would be damaged by his nails, so he always caresses you with the tips of his fingers when he lifts your chin to leave a kiss on your nose.

He always starts like this, he never starts by kissing your lips, instead, he is willing to kiss your entire face before giving himself that luxury. He may bite your cheeks affectionately, but those are just his affectionate ways of loving and teasing you: he holds your hands so you don't walk away, he holds you by the waist or hugs you, he just doesn't want you to leave when he starts dancing with you until lay on the couch.

Gaming likes to kiss you when he passes by, when he says goodbye to go to work or when he greets you in the morning, he kisses your cheek and leaves. But for the long kisses that he gives you, it is essential that both of you are comfortable.

Holds your cheeks after kissing them, looking at you with love and fascination before making you move closer to him, practically snuggling into the cushions. It doesn't matter if his body is naturally warmer than normal, you're not going to walk away, are you? That's why he allows himself to get tangled with you when he finally claims your lips, caressing them softly and confidently, drawing a bigger and bigger smile on his face.

He takes his time adoring you, running his hands over your back and hair every time you seek to breathe against his lips, whispering sweet compliments against your ears, calling you his partner, like someone who still doesn't understand how it happened, but is extremely grateful.

Allows himself to be pampered by your kisses and caresses, purring in your arms when you hug him in the same way, and let him be as cuddly and loving as he wants. He's had a long day, regardless of whether he was heavy or not, now he just wants to kiss you until he can't take it anymore.

He is a flame, warms you gently, traps you in a wooden house, but the flames do not expand, it does not seek to burn you or overwhelm you, it does not want to burn you, so he allows you to open the windows as long as you allow him to hug you with his mantle. Gaming is addicted to feeling you comb his hair at the same time as you run your lips over his eyelids, you can feel his fingers leaving wrinkles in your blouse.

He's a nice fireplace, he lets you put your hand near the fire and kisses your fingers one by one. Your skin is not singed, but rather leaves you with the memory of his kisses like a river flowing through your flesh.

Passionate and warm, gentle and devoted. Gaming loves to kiss you, but his heart gives out when you return his affection

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bookshelf-dust · 2 years

Text

the hurt is good

part i part ii part iii part iv part v part vi

billy hargrove x fem!reader

word count: 2,344

warnings: swearing, smoking, reader is lonely, descriptions of billy’s abuse, mentions of neil

a/n: hi! so i decided to challenge myself with this. i’m making this a multi-part story. i’ve never done anything like this before, but so far i’m enjoying it. i’m not entirely sure where we’re headed, but i’ve got a sort of outline in my head. i’ve also decided to try something else new, and i’ve picked out some songs that you can listen to before you read to get you in the mood—but only if you want of course. this is all a really new experience for me but i have put a lot of heart into this first part. i hope that you enjoy this, really i do. also the title is from a part of hop’s letter to el. <333

before you read, listen to: wheel in the sky by journey and/or (don’t fear) the reaper by blue oyster cult

————

Sitting cross-legged on your bed, you turn the page of the book in front of you, the sound of the paper flipping an audible one.

You lift the hardback, tuck your nose into the center of the pages and give it a sniff. It might be odd to do so, yes, but to you, books are the best smelling thing in the world.

You put it back down, go back to reading.

A knock breaks you out of your fantasy literature-induced stupor.

“Honey? Okay for me to come in?” Your mother’s voice, soft and sweet.

“Sure.” Your voice is quiet when you speak, though just loud enough for her to hear.

Your bedroom door opens enough for your mother to stand just inside, her back against the frame, one hand gently resting on the knob.

You reach for your bookmark, drape it over one side of the pages and then close it.

“Hey, kiddo.” Her smile is easy. You try your best to give her one of your own, but you know it falls short.

“Wendy and I are going out to dinner tonight and then to an art show.”

Wendy was your mother’s longtime best friend, and quite the riot.

“Apparently her new girlfriend is something of an artist.” She gives a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. “Do you think you’d like to tag along?”

You uncross your legs and stretch them out: contemplating. Then you do the same to your back, which makes an obscene crackling noise—enough to make the both of you grimace.

You know how you’ll feel if you go out with your mother and her friend.

You’ll be okay for the first little while, but then there will be too many people. You’ll get nervous. You will probably say something wrong and feel the need to shut down. You will shut down. Your hands will get shaky and you’ll get upset, and by the end of the night you’ll wish you hadn’t gone at all.

You know how you’ll feel if you stay home, too.

You’ll be fine, totally fine, having avoided everything you’d face in the other situation. But you’d be guilty. Guilty because you’re young and you won’t be going out to do whatever or making friends. You’ll feel like you’re failing your mom, who just wants you to experience things.

You decide that leaving your house shouldn’t require this much stress.

“No, I don’t think so,” you finally say. “But thank you for offering.”

You watch your mother as she moves further inside your room, settling on the edge of your bed.

“Are you sure?” She sets her hands on your knees, tapping her fingers, many a ring glinting in the overhead light of your room.

“We could get frozen yogurt. You know, I really think you’ve turned Wendy into a monster after we went last time. It’s all she talks about now.”

That gets a small smile out of you, but brings an ache to your chest.

“I’m sure. Don’t get too crazy, tonight, though. And be sure to let me know about her new partner.”

“Alright. Hug or no? What’s the affectionate meter at right now?”

“A hug is fine,” you say through a quiet laugh.

She wraps her arms carefully around your shoulders, allowing you to squeeze first, that way she can gauge what you need.

“I’ll leave some money out so you can order pizza, okay?” You nod. “Also there’s a pint of the ice cream you like in the freezer.”

“Okay. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, my little honeybee.” With a final pat of your knee and a wink sent in the direction of your book, your mother sweeps out of the room, and a little while later she is out the door.

Alone in the house, you let out an exhale, before heading to the kitchen.

Opening the designated take-out-menu-drawer, you scrounge for the one belonging to a local pizza place. You go ahead and order now, knowing that it might take awhile since the place is in downtown Hawkins.

You realize, setting the phone down, that you don’t know what to do with yourself once you’ve got the chance to do whatever you please.

You retrieve your book to read on the couch until your dinner arrives, not only for a change of scenery, but because you’ll need to be out in the living room to watch an episode of your favorite show in a while anyhow.

You’ve only sat momentarily when you hear it. Hear him. When you hear his music, specifically.

Billy Hargrove lives a few doors down from you, just close enough that you can always hear when he comes home, music blaring—not that differently from the volume you play it at when alone in your car—and doors slamming.

You don’t know him personally, only from school. Only as this pretty boy who’s been in Hawkins a few months.

You know enough that you hate the way people at school look at him. Like he’s an object. Like he’s this foreign being just because he came all the way from sunny California. The way they talk about him. About his ass, or his car, or his little redhead sister.

You know he’s pretty. You’d never deny that. But he’s just like the rest of you, and it bothers you that people treat him—at least from what you’ve seen—like this all-powerful dude.

But you also know enough that you think maybe he doesn’t have the best home life, just from what you’ve seen when you’re not out—which is always.

Sometimes you see him walking up and down the street at various times during the day. Or you hear his car speed off.

Sometimes, though really only sometimes, you see him trailing his sister while she skateboards, either talking or sitting while she goes.

To you, he seems like a loner.

And maybe it’s because you’re one too that you see him that way. That you can see him that way.

————

Outside, Billy cups his hand around his cigarette. It’s seemingly out of habit, since it’s not windy out. His thumb slides along the spark wheel of his lighter once, twice before the flame catches. The tip glows red in the night.

He walks a little further, as he inhales deeply, closing his eyes and soaking it in. He kicks a rock, hard, trying to see if it’ll hit the post of the mailbox a few feet ahead of him.

He watches a pizza delivery car ride by and pull into a driveway. He hasn’t made it very far on his walk. The walk he wouldn’t be taking because it’s pretty damn cold outside.

But Neil Hargrove wasn’t aware that Max Mayfield had joined the Hawkins AV Club, and when there was no Max at home, he took it out on Billy, telling him he was an irresponsible waste of space.

It took Susan getting home with her daughter and explaining the situation for Neil to calm down.

But Billy’s back was aching from where he’d been slammed up against a doorframe, and frankly he wanted nothing more than to get out of the house.

So here he was.

A porch light flicked on as if whoever was inside had been waiting on that pizza. You had been—sitting on the couch and listening for car sounds.

When the delivery guy rings the doorbell you appear, and Billy realizes he knows you. That he goes to school with you. You’re very quiet. He also thinks your very pretty, and he’s never noticed that before.

You look very comfortable; all of your clothes seem to be too big. With the way the yellow outside light hits you, it gives your face a multitude of shadows. Billy thinks about some of the greek statues he learned about in a history class back when he lived in California. About how artists tended to sculpt women with real bodies.

Shit, he thinks. He’s probably staring at you. But you really are very pretty.

On the stoop, you take the pizza and set it on the table just inside the door and then hand the guy his money.

You decide not to be a dick and make sure that he gets out okay. When he backs out, you catch a flash of red out of the corner of your eye.

You wouldn’t be able to see him if it weren’t for the street lights. Billy is looking at you. You smile at him, and to your surprise, he smiles back.

“You okay?” You ask, hoping that your voice carries to him, because you don’t feel like shouting.

You watch him shrug and take another drag of his cigarette. The fingers on his free hand fidget with the ring he’s wearing, and you pretend not to notice.

“You?” He questions in return. Something about the sound of his voice makes you feel warm inside.

You shrug back, and he lets out a breath of a laugh, before you turn around to go inside and he continues with his walk.

You kick the door shut and lock it behind you, thinking about Billy.

That is the most extensive conversation you’ve ever had with him, aside from one a few days after he started at Hawkins High, when he didn’t know where the auditorium was, so you walked him the whole way there. You were pretty sure he’d been embarrassed to have to ask for help, but you hadn’t been bothered at all.

In fact, that exchange outside was the most conversation you’d had with anyone outside of your mother in a while.

Most days you didn’t say a word at school, keeping to yourself, trying to get homework done any chance you could so that it didn’t actually become homework. Sometimes you had to speak with a teacher though, and of course you said thank you when someone held a door—but that was it.

Quite frankly you didn’t know what to think. Part of you hoped you’d see him again. That you’d make a friend.

You hadn’t had a friend in a very long time.

————

When your mother returns home, it is with many beans to spill.

Wendy’s new partner, who you found out was named Stephanie, was, in your mother’s words, “Hot enough to go gay for.”

Your mother had also undoubtedly had some to drink while out and about.

“Also that boy from down the street? Don’t you go to school with him?”

You start fussing with a string on your sleeve. “Yeah, why?”

“Well he was brooding on his porch when Wendy retrieved me, and he’s still wandering around outside. It’s been,” she checked her watch, “three hours.”

You scratch at your nose, thinking.

“I saw him when the pizza got here.”

Your mother hums. “Well, I’m going to go shower the art gallery off of me and then probably stay up too late reading.”

“Okay.”

She smiles sweetly at you, collecting the pile of rings and other jewelry that she’d taken off and set on the counter while talking to you, and then you’re alone again.

You flatten your body over the countertop, bending at the waist and stretching so that your fingers can grip the other side.

You think about Billy out there. He was obviously going through something. And maybe it isn’t any of your business, but you hate the idea of him being alone, wallowing in self-pity. Not that you have any room to talk.

You straighten, walking carefully so as to not allow your socked feet to slip along the floor, and find yourself reaching for your coat.

Shoving your feet into a pair of shoes, you flip on the porch light once again, and make your way outside.

Across the street, Billy is resting against a low wall that has a mailbox set into it.

Looking both ways out of habit, you make your way towards him, stopping a few feet away. He looks up at you, both hands on the brick underneath him. There is a half-finished cigarette in one of his hands. You find yourself wondering how much he’d smoked since he’d been out here.

“Hi.”

“Hi.” He quirks a brow at you.

“You’ve been out here a long time, you know that?”

Billy glances at his watch. “Seems so.”

“Not cold?”

“‘M fucking freezing my ass off out here.”

You try and choose your words carefully, not wanting to push too hard. “Seems like you could solve that problem if you went inside.”

“Are you worried about me or something, Y/N?”

Trying not to think about the way your name sounded leaving his mouth, you admit to your crimes.

“Yeah, actually. You were out here earlier, and my mom said she saw you when she left and when she got home. I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

Something in Billy’s face softens. “Yeah?”

You exhale, your breath leaving a plume of air in front of you.

“Yeah.”

“Well then I guess I better get my ass inside, huh?”

You stuff your hands into your pockets and realize what you’ve got in there.

“Here.” You pull out a little hand warmer packet an hold it out to him.

Billy laughs. It’s a beautiful sound, you think. Charming and hearty. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

————

At school Monday, you make your way to the lunch table you’ve claimed, grass squishing under your feet.

You flip open your book, shove one leg under you.

It’s only been a little while of munching on grapes and forcing yourself to concentrate before you feel a weight drop onto the bench across from you, shifting the old table a little.

You look up. Billy Hargrove looks back.

He throws his bag on the worn wood, slaps a book of his own on top of that.

You’re confused at his appearance, and he seems to sense that.

“I didn’t like the idea of you being alone.”

You feel yourself heat up, and sit on one of your hands because you also feel like you could cry.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove fluff #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove comfort #billy stranger things #stranger things fic #billy stranger things fic #billy hargrove x f!reader #savannah’s fics

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