#the only reason I could think of him not writing in rose is bc of not wanting to dredge up a storyline that’s already closed

[noellefan101]

Your First Date-Genshin pt 3

Characters: Lyney, Freminet, Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Alhaitham x gn reader

Summary: Your first date with them,

Warnings: lyney flirting, tea

Note: omg im finally done, i really liked writing these tho, ye thats all i have to say school literally destroyed my brain, love you

Lyney

he would definitely preform a TON of magic tricks during your first date, both romantic, some are just pretty to look at and then there´s the brother-you're-just-embarrassing-yourself magic tricks

: said ever so kindly by Lynette

wouldn't make your date as public as his shows, since he wants to share the moments and magic tricks with you only

(+ Lynette, Fremi and "father" if she asked him so, but yk, they're only made for you)

after he had given you more rainbow roses than you could ever count to, he set out some homemade goods, like cookies, a cake, cupcakes(whatever you lik)

(in which he definitely didn´t spend a few days learning to make)

overall 10/10 (if you dont ask lynette, she had to leave bc of the amount of secondhand embarrassment(she was there at the start)) and it was enjoyable for u.

Freminet

yes, you would be underwater for your first date, but if you really don´t like it(yet)he can just take you some other time

^^but he would prefer to show take you on your first

[and yes, Lyney and Lynette (+his other siblings at home)did bet on when he would finally confesses and take you on a date]

he would let you wear his diving helmet if you really wanted to, but he would also just wear it if he felt embarrassed, or wanted to tell you a story (most likely abt pers)

he aslo ended up showing you a few of his mechanics(robots?)

and showed you some works in progresses other people haven´t seen, other than him and pers ofc

Wriothesley

he would drink tea with you in his office

^^maybe Sigewinne baked you something too,

but you mainly drank tea and just talked the whole time

(bro likes tea so much, someone pls make him shut up abt it)

well other than showing you and talking about his (absolutely massive) tea collection (and cake/bakery(sry))

if he´ll ever let you talk, ofc he will(its a very unfunny joke), he´ll listen to you for as long as you´d want to talk

you also laughed a little when he told about how melusines and stickers dont work well

and he liked seeing and hearing your laugh, so he might go for a date number two

Neuvillette

he would take you out to a fancy restaurant or he would just sit and talk with you somewhere more private

but maybe include a Melusine passing by here and there, checking on you both or for some work-related reasons (that they then put off, just a little, when seeing you both together)

i imagine that you would try some different types of water with him, by his request, and tried your dam best to find a difference.

but he would also get you any kind of drink, dessert or food you´d like

all in all its pretty easy bonding with him, and he just likes being beside you and spending time with you

Alhaitham

he would take you to a quiet cafe where you could sit in peace, since he doesn´t like loud places and want you two to be alone for the most part

he would pay 100% he doesn't even give you a chance to try and pay for anything (he´s nice when he wants to be)

he definitely brought a book with him to read(+ one for you) and would either let you talk while he reads a "little", or he would just read out loud so you know what kind of books he likes

he´s not good at doing any kind of romantic things, but he did try and do something

that including:

taking you out on the date later in the evening so he later could show you the stars, and point out some constellations

asking your friends (and maybe family) what you like food-wise, so he knows what kind of place he should have in mind when picking the place of your date

thank you for reading i don´t think i´ll make any more of these, but if you want it i´ll do it, luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

[jeankluv]

greetings! can you make a fluff gojo satoru story wherein on a random rest day, while smiling fondly at a busy satoru, admiring how amazing he is—being the strongest and all—you felt a pang in your heart as you thought of the big responsibility and burden he carries along with it. thinking how he never asked to be born with these heavy responsibilities wherein single mistake could cost a lot of lives. despite displaying his playful demeanor most of the time, you acknowledge and embrace his vulnerability and struggles. you praised, admire, praise, sympathized and praise him again. just gojo being reminded the reason why he loved you.

just a small plot i thought of inspired by the quote "it's his first time living too" while listening to mr. loverman, hehe. may i request kisses too. *heart hands* thank you!

I love when I get requests like this bc I love to write Gojo in this kind of situation 🥺

In fact I wrote a one shot, not long ago, similar to the request but only posted on ao3, you can check it here. But anyways, I wrote another one shot with your request, I hope you like it and enjoy it.

Let me be the strong one | Gojo Satoru

Words: 1,3K

Summary: The higher-ups had sent him on several missions in a row, without letting him rest, without letting him teach, they had simply thrown him into the field and let him fight on his own. Now for the first time in three weeks you saw him rest.

Tags: fluff, angst, domestic fluff, establish relationship, Satoru needs a hug, Satoru best boy, gn!reader, no use of y/n, pet names (honey, my love, ‘Toru), canon universe but spoilers free

jjk materialist

Your heart burned every time you saw him enter the door, sometimes almost falling to his knees due to the accumulated fatigue that his brain and body carried on top of him.

Gojo Satoru was the strongest, considered by many a God, someone superior. After all he was the one who had brought balance to the world with the simple birth of him. The one born with the six eyes and the infinity.

Sometimes you wish you could take it away from him, to be able to take away infinity and the six eyes, that he could live without that burden on his shoulders, without that duty that he never asked for. That he didn't have to hide his gaze behind a dark bandage. You wanted to take it away and just have it be Satoru. That he could rest and enjoy the things he liked.

You sat in the armchair that was on one side and watched how his chest rose and fell calmly and how his face was illuminated by the rays of the sun that filtered through your window, making his hair and white eyelashes stand out even more.

You loved that man so much, you were crazy in love with him and you have been ever since your high school years. You were not a special grader, you weren’t even that strong, so when your feelings for him started to surface when you were both 16, you felt scared. He was on another level, one you would never reach. At least that was the facade that Satoru showed to everyone, but as time and years passed with him, only you and him shared those sleepless nights where Satoru would knock on your door and wait for you to make room for him in your bed, to simply being hugged to each other and feeling your warmth intertwine with each other. Those moments had only caused you to fall more in love with him.

Luckily those feelings were reciprocated when you were 20 and now 8 years later they had not stopped growing.

“I can feel you observing me.” Satoru spoke with his eyes still closed.

“You should keep resting.” You whispered.

He sat on the couch and stretched himself up. “It’s okay, I had enough rest already.”

“‘Toru…” You said, feeling your heart ache.

“Honey, I’m really okay, don’t worry.” He smiled at you.

“You don’t have to be strong in front of me, you know?” You moved next to him. “Let me be the strong one for you. Let me take your pain too.” You whispered.

“You don’t have to take anything from me because there is…”

“I know you ‘Toru, and because I know you, I know you are not okay.” You cupped his face. So please let me take care of you, let me be your shield, even if it’s just for a moment.” He smiled sadly and then rested his head on your chest.

“I’m tired…” He whispered. “So tired. I love to fight and to face challenges but it’s tiring. Sometimes… I would like not to have this responsibility on me. From the moment I was born, I was already assigned a role, before I even cried for the first time, I was already the strongest, without asking for it.” You ran your fingers through his hair, trying to let him know that you were with him. “I never felt like I had a childhood, so when I entered the school and met you, Suguru and Shoko, I felt like being the strongest wasn't the important thing and that I could be me when I was around you.”

“‘Toru…” You whispered with a sad look.

“But then everything went down…” He said. “I couldn’t save everyone, I couldn’t prevent their deaths, I couldn’t…”

“Satoru, that’s not true…” You cupped his face making him look at you, his blue eyes were filled with tears. “You protected so many people and saved so many too.” With your thumb you caressed his face. “'Toru, you really are amazing, you are strong, yes, but above all that, you are a good person, full of love, who loves his students and wants the best for them.” You smiled. “But you are also human, and you need to rest and be taken care of. So please let me take care of you my love.”

Satoru didn’t say anything else, instead he laid his head on your legs and let you take care of him as you had asked him. A couple of minutes passed when you noticed how his breathing was calmer and how his eyes were completely closed and his mouth slightly open. He had fallen asleep. After carefully placing Satoru on the couch and tucking him in with a cozy blanket, you made your way to the kitchen with a purpose in mind: to prepare something special for him. Cooking had always been therapeutic for you, and in that moment, you felt it was the perfect way to show your concern and affection for him.

When the sweet aroma of the freshly baked cake filled the kitchen, you felt a wave of satisfaction and anticipation. You knew the gesture would be a pleasant surprise for Satoru, and you hoped it would bring him some joy.

Suddenly, as you focused on the oven, you felt two arms wrapping around you from behind. A warm smile spread across your face, knowing that Satoru was there with you, sharing the moment.

“You left…” He whispered.

“I wanted to make a cake for you.” You turned around to see him. “How are you feeling?” You touched his face.

“I am better.” He closed his eyes as you touched him. “You know I love you so much, right?”

“I know.” You smiled tilting your head. “And I love you too.” You kissed him.

“Thank you my love.” He kissed you back. “For understanding me the way you do and for loving me as Satoru not as Gojo Satoru, the strongest.” He smiled.

“For me, you are just my dear ‘Toru, my silly boyfriend who wants to act cool in front of his dear students, the one who loves to eat sweets and go to different places in Tokyo so he can eat all of the sweets in the world and likes to take pictures of those sweets, so then he can fill my phone with those pictures. My ‘Toru, who despite everything, always takes the responsibility, even if it’s too heavy for him, who will blame himself for things he can’t control, the one who wants to change this shitty society so the future generations can have the childhood he never had.” You smiled, getting emotional. “That’s the man I love, who loves me passionately and has never let me down.”

“Every day I am grateful for having met you and having fallen in love and continue to fall in love with you.” He hugged you, hiding his face in your neck. “Don't ever leave, please…” He whispered against your skin, before leaving a delicate kiss.

“Never…” You caress her back gently. “Oh!” You gasped when you started to smell it. “‘Toru the cake!” You stepped away from him and turned off the oven. Carefully removing it from the oven, you placed it on the counter. “It burned…” You whispered, looking at the burnt cake.

You felt Satoru approach you and place a kiss on his cheek. “Let's do another one, this time both of us together.” He smiled at you.

You nodded and kissed him, and it was at times like that where you wish you could take all of Satoru's problems, burdens and responsibilities off his shoulders, and throw them away, where they could never reach him.

[lowaltitude]

Imperfect Storm | Billy Hargrove

- Stranger Things

- x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫ ❪ adult aroace virgin attempts to write smut ❫ ❪ Altitude ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Billy Hargrove x AFAB+FEM!reader, in which there’s nowhere to escape. OR in which unexpected downpour and the start of a hurricane locks down Hawkins High trapping studious and rebellious together for hours.

𖥻 established relationships. bffs with steve bc im lazy. i could not for the life of me think up a reason from them to be fighting, sorry. a lot of plot and scattered corn with a p. light choking.  15,729 words

───── ❝ introduction❞ ─────

In the small town of Hawkins, Indiana, amidst the echoes of adventure and whatever we were told to believe was really going on in the mysteries of the lab, I navigated the familiar corridors of Hawkins High School with an air of quiet determination. Clad in the same hoodie I think i'd worn to school every other day this week I blended seamlessly into the background. The simple jumper embraces me, shielding me from both the chills of the hallways and enigmatic pull of the township.

Behind my glasses, my eyes observe the world around me with a mixture of curiosity and caution, silently analyzing the dynamics that play out around me. The crowds in the halls split into their cliques and leave me feeling left behind as the gather into their little groups and start chatting.

Billy, the embodiment of rebellion and unpredictable predictability, strides through the halls with a seemingly magnetic presence. His confidence and smoldering gaze are s stark contrast to the usually reserved demeanor of people in Hawkins. In his presence, I am simultaneously drawn to his charismatic energy and apprehensive of the unknown depths beneath his charismatic facade.

As I delve into my locker, mentally seeking solace, I find myself lost in thought. Attempting to unravel the mysteries of my own life. It is within these moments of quiet introspection that my thoughts of Billy begin to infiltrate my mind, disrupting the careful equilibrium i've cultivated.

Though our paths rarely intersect, our lives have briefly intertwined during multiple chance encounters, and although they usually resulted in tense exchanges and snarky comments, something stirred within me- A curiosity that transcended the boundaries of my studious world. As I peered past his tough exterior, I could catch a glimpse of vulnerability in his eyes, a flicker of a troubled soul that yearned for understanding.

In Hawkins, where extraordinary occurrences seemed to intertwine with the mundane, I had managed to find myself cautiously navigating the uncharted territories of the heart.

As Billy swaggered into the bustling halls of Hawkins High, his eyes scanned the crowd for a potential target to amuse himself with.

As I stood by my locker, lost in my own thoughts, a sudden jolt shook me from my daydream. I stumbled forward, my belongings slipping from my grasp and clattering to the ground. It took me a moment to realize what had happened—Billy, the epitome of arrogance, had deliberately knocked into me.

Anger flared within me, and embarrassment tinged my cheeks. It seemed that Billy took delight in humiliating others for his own amusement. The laughter that escaped his lips only fueled my frustration, intensifying the need to show him that he couldn’t simply walk all over people.

I swiftly knelt down to gather my scattered books and papers, my mind seething with defiance. I refused to let his actions break my spirit. As I rose back to my feet, I met his gaze head-on, a fire burning in my eyes.

───── ❝ fight❞ ─────

"Billy, I can't help it notice your constant need for attention. It's like you thrive on pushing people's buttons and causing unnecessary drama."

His eyes narrowed, and a cocky smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. "Oh, sweetheart, just trying to keep things interesting. Can't have this boring town lull me to sleep now, can we?"

took a deep breathe, attempting to suppress the surge of anger that threatened to consume me. "You know, not everyone finds your reckless behaviour captivating. It's exhausting, Billy. It's one thing to be confident, but it's another to treat people like disposable playthings."

He leaned in, his voice dripping with dosain. "Well, maybe you're just too uptight, never willing to take a risk. You think you're better than everyone else don't you?"

My temper flared, and I met his gaze with unwavering intensity. "No, Billy, I don't think I'm better than anyone. But unlike you, I don't go around hurting others just to fill a void inside me. Maybe if you too a moment to look beyond your own ego, you'd see the damage you're causing."

Billy's expression hardened, his words laced with bitter edge. "You don't know a damn thing about me. You don't know what it's like to fight for every scrap of happiness in a messed-up world."

I shook my head, my voice filled with frustration. "And what about everyone else? Do their feelings not matter? Your actions have consequences, Billy. You can't keep treating people like collateral damage in your personal war."

He scoffed, his voice now full of derision. "Spare me the lecture, sweetheart. Not all of us can hide behind our books and pretend like we have it all figured out."

My patience waned, replaced by a resolute fire. "I don't pretend to have it all figured out, but at least I strive to be better. I won't stand idly by while you leave a trail of broken hearts, i highly suspect a lot of STDs and shattered friendships in your wake."

The tension between us was palpable, the air heavy with unspoken resentment. We stood at an impasse, our words and emotions colliding in a tempest of heated argument. It was a clash between two forces unwilling to yield, each defending their own perspective with unwavering determination. As the echoes of our confrontation reverberated through the halls of Hawkins High, the rest of the student body seemingly silent, a lingering animosity hanging in the air.

The hallway fell into a hushed silence as the door swung open, revealing Mr. Thompson, a stern and no-nonsense teacher known for his unwavering discipline. His eyes scanned the crowd, settling on Billy Hargrove and me, both still tinged with the remnants of our heated argument.

With a voice that brooked no dissent, Mr. Thompson spoke, his tone laced with disappointment. "Mr. Hargrove, Miss Y/N, I trust you are both aware of the disruption you caused with your altercation. Such behavior is not befitting of the students I know you are capable of being."

Billy leaned back against the metal locker, an air of defiance lingering around him. "Look, teach, she started it. She always acts like she's better than everyone else."

Mr. Thompson's gaze hardened, his stern expression unyielding. "I will not entertain excuses or attempts to shift blame, Mr. Hargrove. Both of you played a role in this unfortunate incident, and as such, you will face the consequences."

His words hung heavy in the air, the weight of our actions pressing down upon us. I swallowed hard, understanding the gravity of the situation. "I apologize, Mr. Thompson. My behavior was out of line, and I take full responsibility for my part in the argument."

The teacher nodded, his tone firm yet fair. "Acknowledging your mistake is the first step, Miss Y/N. However, understanding the impact of your actions is equally important. Disruption within the school community undermines the learning environment for your fellow students."

Billy shot a defiant glare in Mr. Thompson's direction, but the teacher remained unfazed. "As for you, Mr. Hargrove, this is not the first time you have found yourself in a situation like this. It's time to recognize the consequences of your actions and learn from them."

The weight of Mr. Thompson's words settled upon us, the realization of our transgressions sinking in. We were about to face the repercussions of our heated argument— A lesson that would extend beyond the confines of the classroom unfortunately.

With a measured tone, Mr. Thompson concluded, "Both of you will serve detention after school today. It is an opportunity for reflection and understanding, a chance to contemplate the impact of your choices. I expect better from you both moving forward." As the halls emptied and the weight of our detention loomed.

───── ❝ detention❞ ─────

The detention room was heavy with unspoken tension, a sterile and somber space, its walls adorned with faded motivational posters. Billy Hargrove and I sat in stony silence, our gazes locked in a battle of wills. As we awaited the passage of time, a silence settled over us, broken only by the occasional creak of chairs, the heavy rain hitting the windows or distant footsteps in the hallway.

Unable to bear the silence any longer, I broke it with a voice sharpened by resentment. "You know, Billy, I never expected much from you, but I thought you would at least have the decency to apologize."

Billy's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with a flicker of defiance. "Apologize? For what? Standing up for myself? Or for not letting you walk all over me with your self-righteous lectures? You’re the one that should be grovelling and begging for me to accept your apology."

The words stung, igniting a fire within me. "You think this is about me wanting to control you? It's not, Billy. It's about treating people with respect and recognizing the consequences of our actions."

He scoffed, his voice laced with bitter sarcasm. "Oh, spare me your moral high ground, sweetheart. You act like you've never made a mistake in your life."

My temper flared, my voice rising in defiance. "I never claimed to be perfect, Billy. But at least I try to learn from my mistakes. You, on the other hand, continue to hurt people without a second thought."

His eyes flashed with anger, his voice dripping with venom. "You think you know me? You think you understand a damn thing about what I've been through?"

The room crackled with the intensity of our confrontation, the boundaries between us growing sharper with every word. We were two opposing forces on a collision course, our anger fueling the flames of resentment.

"I may not know your entire story, Billy, but that doesn't excuse your actions," I retorted, my voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "Hurting others won't fix whatever pain you're carrying."

His gaze hardened, his voice a low growl. "You don't get to play therapist, Y/N. You don't get to pretend like you can fix me."

My heart raced, my fists clenched in frustration. "I never said that I have all the answers, but I refuse to let you continue down this destructive path without saying something. You're capable of so much more, Billy. But until you face the truth and acknowledge the pain you're causing, you'll remain trapped in this cycle of anger and hurt."

Silence enveloped us once again, the weight of our words hanging in the air. Anger still simmered beneath the surface, but a glimmer of vulnerability shone in Billy's eyes. It was a fleeting moment, easily masked by his hardened facade, but it was enough to sow a seed of doubt within me.

The storm outside was taking a treacherous turn. The distant rumble of thunder grew louder, and rain pounded against the windows with an unrelenting force.

Breaking the silence, my voice quivered with a mix of trepidation and sincerity. "Billy, I want to apologize for the things I said earlier. I let my anger get the best of me, and I didn't consider the pain you might be carrying."

Billy's guard softened, his gaze meeting mine with a flicker of surprise and appreciation. "I... I appreciate that, Y/N.”

There was a pause, a shared moment of introspection as we grappled with our own inner turmoil. I reached out tentatively, my hand finding Billy's, my touch a gentle reassurance amidst the remnants of our conflict.

"I've seen glimpses of a different person beneath your… tough exterior, Billy," I admitted, voice filled with genuine concern. "There's more to you than the asshole that parades himself around this school."

“Y/N, I-”

Suddenly, the shrill wail of sirens pierced the air, signaling an imminent danger—A tornado.

We exchanged startled glances, their previous animosity momentarily forgotten as the gravity of the situation sank in.

As the tornado siren blared its warning, panic gripped the halls of Hawkins High School. Remaining students and teachers scrambled to find shelter, seeking refuge in designated safe areas.

Their footsteps quickened, driven by the urgency to reach safety. My hand instinctively grasped the doorknob, twisting it desperately, only to be met with resistance. Billy stepped forward, trying to force the door open with all his might, but it remained stubbornly shut. We were trapped, confined within the detention room's four walls while the storm raged outside.

Frantic thoughts raced through my mind as the tornado siren continued its relentless call. Time seemed to stretch, each passing second intensifying our worry. We pounded on the door, our voices blending with the howling wind outside, hoping to catch the attention of someone who could free us from these confines.

But the chaos of the storm swallowed the cries, leaving us stranded in a place where punishment had transformed into something far more sinister.

Together, we faced the daunting prospect of weathering the storm from the confines of the detention room. The previous conflicts and animosity were pushed aside by the shared predicament we found themselves in. In this moment of vulnerability, I, overwhelmed by the situation, instinctively sought comfort and found solace in the proximity of Billy.

Trembling, I pressed closer to him, seeking refuge in his presence. Billy, taken aback by the vulnerability displayed before him, was unsure of how to respond. Awkwardly, he tentatively wrapped his arms around me, his touch uncertain yet gentle, trying to offer whatever comfort he could muster.

His voice, usually laced with defiance, softened as he spoke, "Hey, it's gonna be okay." His words held a glimmer of reassurance, though they were foreign on his tongue.

Finding solace in the sincerity behind his words, I nodded against his chest. The storm's fury continued to unleash its wrath, yet within the confines of his embrace, a bubble of comfort formed—a shelter against the chaos outside.

Despite his initial hesitation, Billy recognized the importance of providing support in his own way. He began to stroke Y/N's back with gentle motions, a silent gesture of solidarity.

"Sorry," I mumbled, my voice laced with embarrassment, as I gently pushed away from Billy's embrace. My cheeks flushed with a mix of emotions, and I hastily wiped my nose on the back of my hand, trying to regain composure. Avoiding his gaze, I looked down, my focus shifting to the ground beneath us.

Billy, ever the composed one, noticed my unease. With a gentle touch, he reached out and brushed off a speck of dust from his shirt, as if to show that the minor incident hadn't fazed him.

Billy took a seat on the floor, his back leaned against the door, his hands resting on his knees. A somber calmness settled over him as he watched the storm brewing just outside the windows. His gaze traced the dark clouds swirling in the sky, their ominous presence mirrored in the intensity of his eyes.

There was a sense of introspection about him, a contemplation that matched the turbulent energy of the storm. As the thunder rumbled and the rain battered against the windows, he seemed lost in thought, his thoughts perhaps wandering through the labyrinth of his own emotions.

I couldn't help but be drawn to his stillness, his silent observation of the chaos outside. His composed demeanor in the face of the tempest fascinated me, revealing a depth that extended beyond his tough exterior. In that moment, he seemed like an enigma, simultaneously a part of the storm and yet untouched by its fury.

Sitting beside him, I watched his profile, his features softened by the dim light that filtered through the darkened room. There was an air of melancholy around him, an unspoken weight that he carried. I yearned to understand the depths of his thoughts, to be the solace that anchored him amidst the storm.

───── ❝ the calm❞ ─────

As the storm raged outside, Billy and I found ourselves engaged in a conversation that embodied the essence of teenage banter.

Billy leaned in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If you could have any superpower, what would it be? And don't say something boring like 'the ability to study all night'."

I chuckled, playfully rolling my eyes at his remark. "Alright, impatient. If I had to pick, I'd go with telekinesis. Imagine the possibilities! No more reaching for the remote or dealing with heavy backpacks. I could be the ultimate multitasker."

He nodded, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Telekinesis, huh? That's a solid choice. I'd probably go with teleportation. Think about it—no more long commutes, instant travel to any corner of the world. Plus, I'd never be late for detention again."

As the thunder rumbled in the distance, Billy leaned closer, his tone filled with curiosity. "Alright, what's the most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to you in school? Come on, I know you've got a good story."

I smirked, playfully nudging him. "Well, there was this one time in sophomore year when I accidentally walked into the boys' restroom. Needless to say, I made a hasty retreat."

Billy burst into laughter, his infectious mirth filling the room. "You sure know how to make an entrance, sweetheart."

As we continued swapping stories and playful jabs, the detention room transformed into a hub of energy, where we could momentarily forget our worries and simply enjoy each other's company.

A low, distant rumble of thunder echoed through the air, as if nature itself was growling in anticipation. The wind intensified, howling and gusting with an almost primal force. The trees bowed and thrashed, their branches caught in a frenzied dance, struggling against the impending tempest.

I watched in awe as the atmosphere transformed before my eyes. The sky, once a tranquil blue, now displayed a multitude of shades—shades of gray, indigo, and charcoal, swirling together in a chaotic symphony. The sun, now hidden behind a thick layer of swirling clouds, cast an eerie, ethereal glow over the landscape.

Bolts of lightning streaked across the darkened sky, illuminating the swirling mass of clouds with their electric brilliance. Each flash was followed by a deep, rumbling clap of thunder, reverberating through the air like the growl of a mighty beast. The sound seemed to vibrate within me, a reminder of the power and unpredictability of nature.

Raindrops fell, at first sporadic and gentle, then growing in intensity. They splattered against the windows, creating a distorted view of the world outside. The rain seemed to move in waves, driven by the ever-growing ferocity of the storm.

As the tornado formed in the distance, a funnel-shaped cloud descended from the heavens, its dark core swirling with an ominous intensity. It seemed like a monstrous entity, a force of nature unleashed, ready to wreak havoc upon the land.

As I watched the tornado continue to gather strength, my heart pounded with a mix of fear and fascination. The storm's fury was a stark reminder of our place in the universe, a humbling experience that left me in awe.

"Truth or dare?" Billy's voice cut through the air, pulling me away from my initial skepticism, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

I scoffed playfully, playing along with the game. "Dare," I replied, ready to accept whatever challenge he threw my way.

His eyes sparkled with mischief as he leaned in closer. "Draw something inappropriate on the whiteboard," he suggested, his voice laden with amusement.

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress a smile, and reluctantly rose from the floor. Picking up a black marker, I uncapped it and sketched a crude representation of a penis on the whiteboard.

Rolling my eyes but unable to suppress a smile, I got up from the floor and reached for a black marker. With deliberate strokes, I crudely sketched a crude representation of a penis on the whiteboard. Billy's laughter filled the room, his teasing comment echoing in the air.

“It’s a bit small, don’t you think?” He jested, unable to contain his amusement.

Glancing at the drawing, I raise an eyebrow, a smirk forming on my lips. “Oh, really? Well, I suppose it’s yours then,” I retort, playfully taking a seat beside him, reveling in our shared banter.

Billy’s eyes widen momentarily before a mischievous smile dances on his lips. “Oh, sweetheart. It definitely is not,” he quips, the implication lingering in the air between us.

Interrupting his suggestive smile, I shift the focus back to the game. “Truth or dare?” I ask, deliberately ignoring his playful demeanor.

Billy ponders for a moment, his gaze meeting mine with a newfound curiosity. “Truth,” he finally decides, a tinge of vulnerability seeping into his voice.

With a casual shrug, I meet his request with nonchalance. “Tell me a secret,” I challenge, my curiosity piqued.

I see a flicker of contemplation in Billy’s eyes, a momentary vulnerability that captures my attention. “I… I think this game is stupid,” he confesses, his tone filled with a hint of reluctance.

A burst of laughter escapes me, and I playfully grumble, pouting as I lightly swat him with the back of my hand. “Come on, Hargrove,” I retort, a playful glint in my eyes. “That’s not a real secret,” I tease, finding joy in the lighthearted exchange between us.

"I love when you say my name," he confesses softly, his voice laced with sincerity.

I raise an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "Billy is your name, not Hargrove," I remind him, a hint of mischief coloring my tone.

He closes his eyes, savoring the words as they linger in the air. Tilting his head back slightly, a contented sigh escapes his lips. "God, I love that," he admits, a faint smile playing on his features.

A mixture of curiosity and affection fills me as I gaze at him, captivated by the rare vulnerability that shines through. "Your own name?" I inquire, wanting to understand the depths of his feelings.

His smile grows wider, his eyes sparkling with a newfound lightness. It's a smile I've never witnessed before—a genuine expression that reaches his eyes. It's a departure from the usual smirks and cocky grins that often adorned his face.

With a teasing glint, he responds, "Only when you say it."

In that moment, the room feels charged with an unspoken connection—a mutual understanding that extends beyond words. Billy's admission reveals a layer of vulnerability, a longing to be seen and appreciated for who he truly is. And in return, I find myself drawn to the authenticity behind his smiles, cherishing this newfound glimpse into his soul.

As the tornado's fury rages outside, within the detention room, a tender understanding forms—a recognition that behind the tough exterior and troubled past, there is a person deserving of acceptance.

The air between us hums with unspoken emotions, the room fills with an electrifying tension. A charged atmosphere enveloping us, our eyes locked. There, in the midst of the detention room's confined space, a fleeting moment of clarity washed over me, and I couldn't resist the overwhelming urge to bridge the remaining distance between us.

Closing the gap, I reached out, my fingers gently cupping Billy's cheek. The room fell silent, the sounds of the storm outside fading into the background, as our hearts beat in unison. With a mixture of trepidation and longing, I pressed my lips against his, capturing the essence of that tender moment.

Time seemed to stand still as our mouths met, a fusion of uncertainty and desire intertwining in the embrace. The sensation was electric, igniting a fire that had smoldered beneath the surface for far too long. In that brief exchange, our souls spoke a language words couldn't convey.

Billy, initially surprised by the unexpected kiss, soon melted into it, responding with a passion that matched my own. His hands found their way to the small of my back, pulling me closer, deepening the connection.

When our lips finally parted, we remained locked in a breathless moment, our eyes lingering as if searching for something in the depths of each other's gaze. The storm's turmoil outside seemed distant, inconsequential compared to the whirlwind of emotions we experienced within that single, stolen kiss.

A radiant smile spread across Billy's face, a genuine expression that mirrored the warmth filling my own heart.

Our eyes remain locked, reflecting the fire that still burns within. It's a pivotal moment—an awakening of desires.

As the heat between us subsides slightly, I tentatively reach out, my hand trembling with anticipation, seeking to caress the contours of Billy's face. But just as my fingers brush against his skin, he gently catches my hand, his touch firm yet tender.

Time seems to suspend as Billy's eyes search mine, his grip on my hand a gentle yet deliberate restraint. The intensity of the moment is palpable, the unspoken words echoing between us.

My heart pounded in anticipation, and my breath hitched as I felt his gaze fixate on the sensitive curve of my neck.

A mixture of excitement and vulnerability coursed through me as Billy leaned in, his lips lightly grazing my skin. Each gentle kiss sent an electric jolt through my body, awakening every nerve ending. It was an exquisite torment, a sweet agony that left me yearning for more.

I shivered, surrendering to the intoxicating pleasure of his touch, as his lips continued to explore the contours of my neck. The warmth of his breath against my skin sent waves of desire cascading through me, intensifying with each tender press of his mouth.

The sensations overwhelmed me, causing a soft gasp to escape my lips. In that moment, I lost myself in the exquisite pleasure, my body responding to his every touch. It was a delicate dance of passion and vulnerability, a symphony of sensations that bound us together in an intimate connection.

Time seemed to stand still as Billy's kisses grew more impassioned, each one leaving a trail of desire in its wake. My senses were heightened, the world around us fading into insignificance. In that intimate exchange, I felt seen, cherished, and desired.

As I surrendered to the pleasure coursing through me, the room became a sanctuary—a place where worries and responsibilities dissolved, leaving only the intensity of our connection. Billy's lips on my neck were a testament to the depths of our desires intertwining.

Amidst the storm's raging chaos outside, our bodies entwined, the sweet caress of his kisses on my neck brought solace and an indescribable intimacy. It was a moment where the boundaries between us blurred, where our desires and emotions melded into one.

With a mix of strength and tenderness, Billy's arms wrapped around me, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. I gasped, caught off guard by his display of power and the rush of exhilaration that surged through me.

With purposeful steps, Billy carried me across the room, our bodies pressed close together. Gently, Billy set me down on top of a desk, our eyes locked in a fiery gaze. The smooth surface was cool against my skin, heightening my awareness of the intimate connection we were about to explore.

Billy stood before me, his gaze filled with a mix of desire and vulnerability. With a slight smirk playing on his lips, he reached for the buttons of his shirt, his fingers deftly undoing them one by one.

His hands paused momentarily, allowing me a moment to appreciate the sight before him. A hint of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his usual confidence shining through. With a deliberate slowness, he shrugged off the shirt, letting it fall to the ground, revealing his bare chest in all its glory.

Steady hand, he reached out, his fingers grazing the fabric of my shirt. His touch was gentle yet purposeful, tracing a path along my skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. With a gentle yet determined pull, he started to lift the shirt upward, exposing the skin beneath.

───── ❝ the storm❞ ─────

As my shirt slipped off, a rush of vulnerability and desire washed over me. Billy's eyes traced the lines of my exposed flesh, a mixture of reverence and hunger in his gaze. His touch was both careful and passionate, his fingertips grazing my skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

His hand reaches up my throat, until it reaches my chin, grabbing and running his thumb over my full bottom lip. I part my lips, drawing his thumb into my mouth and sucking.

“Y/N,” he whispers, closing his eyes, his jaw clenching as he grinds his back teeth.

He pulls his thumb from my lips, his fingers flying to my jeans as he fumbles with the button and rips them from me.

His eyes fall to my underwear. “Okay” He rasps, his fingers rubbing through the material.

“Oh” I breathe, pushing my arms behind me and wrapping my fingers round the edge of the desk unit.

“Legs up,” He orders and I do as he says without thinking, widening my legs for him, his eyes falling between them. Swirling his fingertips over me, his spare hand moves up around my throat as he wraps his fingers there, holding me in position.

His fingers slip into the side of my panties, rubbing slowly before gliding his fingers through my parted lips and plunging two fingers deep inside of me.

“Fuck,” I whisper.

His fingers slip out of me, before tugging on his own pants, kicking them down his legs. “You clean?”

I nod, “Yeah, are you?”

“Haven’t been with anyone in a while, but yeah.” I feel shocked and confused by his admission, but don’t let him see it.

He strokes himself in long, slow strokes then pushes his thick tip at my tight opening. “You’re mine from this moment on, do you understand me?” He rasps, his eyes levelling with mine and I nod.

Billy’s voice resonates with authority and possessiveness as he utters those words, his intense gaze locked with mine. The weight of his declaration hangs in the air, and for a brief moment, my mind races with conflicting emotions. I want to surrender, to fully embrace this connection that has ignited between us, but a lingering trace of hesitation remains.

“Yours.” I whisper, my voice tinged with a mix of excitement and fear. My eyes roll in the back of my head as he slowly pushes his thick cock inside me, the burn caused by him stretching me taking my breath away.

“Y/N.” His grip around my throat tightens as he watches his cock slip in and out of me with ease. “Fuck, you feel so good.” His jaw is tight, his teeth gritted as he fucks me slowly.

“Billy.” I whisper moan, looking between us as his thick cock pulls to the tip, then slips straight back into me.

My heart races under my skin when my gaze lands on the classroom door, the school hallway lies quiet and still, devoid of the usual bustling energy that fills its space during the day. My eyes widen and Billy winks at me, smirking.

“Look at you” he moans, his thrusts speeding up. “You’re such a naughty girl, sweetheart.”

The pet name that so often bothered me now felt like a reward, slipping off his tongue it brings my orgasm close. I clench down, tightening around him.

“You like that, don’t you?”

I nod, mewling as his voice floats through me, his cock hitting that spot.

“I think you can take more,” he whispers, his head turning to the door then back to face me. “Do you?” he asks.

I nod eagerly, letting my eyes watch as he fucks me.

He smiles, looking down between us as he pulls his cock to his tip, then places two fingers at my opening, resting on top of his arousal coated cock.

Without warning, he pushes back into me, my mouth agape as my eyes roll in the back of my head.

“Fuck yes,” I pant. Uncurling my white knuckled fingers from the edge, I reach between my legs and rub my swollen clit.

Billy laughs a little, amusement evident in his voice. “You’re so greedy” he grits, as he fucks me harder,

My fingers rub faster, matching his thrusts into me. Billy grins at me, his eyes hooded as he slows his thrusts into me to a torturous pace.

“God” I rush out, ignoring the urge to moan out after that.

Billy continues at the slow pace for a moment then picks up the pace again, fucking me hard.

“Fuck,” I whisper, my eyes glassing as tears threaten, the pleasure ripping through me.

“Did anyone fuck you like this?” I see Billy’s veins bulging and throbbing at his question and I shake my head. “Good, no one will.” He grits, pulling his two fingers out. My orgasm teeters as he pushes his cock deep into me.

“I’m going to come,” I whisper, tears rolling down my cheek at this overwhelming fullness that I feel. I tilt my hips up so his long cock rubs on the spot I need.

I can no longer resist the magnetic pull drawing me toward him. With a mixture of hesitation and longing, I close the remaining distance between us, my lips pressing against his in a bold and passionate kiss.

His response is immediate, his arms encircling me, pulling me closer, as if he too craves this connection. The kiss deepens, becoming a fierce exchange of desire and emotion.

My eyes roll, my back arches and I come hard, my orgasm splintering me in two. I swear I see stars, my ears ringing as the relief swarms me.

“Such a good girl,” He chokes, fucking me in short, hard thrusts, “I’m going to come,” he whispers.

I pant, he pants, his face edging towards me in an electrifying instant, our lips collide in a passionate fusion. It’s a dance of fire and vulnerability, a symphony of sensations that overwhelm my senses.

Our kiss deepens, a mingling of passion and tenderness. It’s as if time suspends, leaving only the intensity of our shared moment. Our lips move in perfect harmony, fueled by a hunger

A symphony of moans escapes my parted lips, blending with the intoxicating atmosphere around us. I lose myself in the intoxicating taste of his mouth, surrendering to the whirlwind of emotions that swirl within me. In that moment, nothing else matters but the heat and urgency of our connection.

His touch is electric, his hands guiding me closer, holding me as if afraid to let go. Fingers tangle in my hair, creating an anchor in this storm of desire.

Each brush of his lips against mine sends waves of pleasure coursing through me.

───── ❝ fear ❞ ─────

The tornado emerges on the horizon as a monstrous force of nature, its destructive power evident in its towering funnel cloud. It's a swirling vortex of darkness, a tempest that devours everything in its path. The winds, furious and relentless, whip through the air, creating a deafening roar that reverberates through the surroundings.

As it approaches, the tornado leaves a trail of devastation in its wake. Trees are uprooted, their branches tossed like twigs in the ferocious gusts. Debris becomes airborne, propelled with alarming velocity, transforming everyday objects into deadly projectiles.

The sheer magnitude of the tornado is awe-inspiring and terrifying. Its darkness stretches towards the heavens, a menacing presence against the darkened sky. It seems to command the atmosphere, bending it to its will as it spirals relentlessly forward.

The swirling mass engulfs the landscape, obscuring visibility with a dense cloud of dust and debris. Its raw power is palpable, an unstoppable force of nature that demands respect and humility.

Inside the school, the building shudders under the onslaught of the approaching storm. The air pressure fluctuates, causing windows to rattle and doors to creak. The sounds of destruction outside are muffled by the solid structure, yet the vibrations serve as a chilling reminder of the chaos unfolding just beyond the walls.

As I cower with Billy, a sense of vulnerability washes over me. We cling to each other, seeking solace and protection in our shared fear. The tornado's proximity amplifies the urgency, the desperate need to find shelter and hold on to hope amidst the chaos.

Through the windows, I catch glimpses of the swirling mass, the dark tendrils reaching out like ominous fingers. It's a sight that commands both awe and terror, a stark reminder of the immense power of nature and our own fragility in its presence.

The tornado rages on, its path cutting through the land with merciless force. It serves as a testament to the indomitable forces of nature, leaving behind a trail of destruction that serves as a somber reminder of its might. In its wake, lives are upended, and the true strength of the human spirit is tested.

I can't help but succumb to a vulnerable admission. With trembling words and a sheepish tone, I confess my deepest fear. "I'm... scared," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking the words aloud would make the fear all the more real.

Billy's gaze softens, his eyes reflecting a mixture of understanding and concern.

"I know," he responds, his voice gentle yet filled with an unwavering determination. "It's alright to be scared."

His words offer a glimmer of comfort amidst the chaos. I find solace in the fact that I'm not alone.

As the tornado's howling winds continue to pummel the school, we huddle closer, seeking shelter in each other's embrace. Billy's arms envelop me, providing a sense of protection against the outside world. In the safety of his presence, I allow myself to lean on him, to release the weight of my fears.

The deafening roar of the tornado intensifies, its monstrous presence drawing ever closer, a surge of adrenaline courses through my veins. Despite our attempts to find comfort in each other's embrace, the fear within me intensifies, threatening to overwhelm my senses.

I can feel the vibrations reverberating through the walls, the tremors of the approaching storm rattling the very foundation of the school. The once-distant sounds of destruction now grow ominously near, a chilling reminder of the tornado's relentless pursuit.

The windows tremble under the assault of the wind, and shards of glass occasionally shatter, scattering across the floor like glistening fragments of chaos. The air becomes heavy with debris, carried on the gusts that infiltrate the building, serving as a grim testament to the tornado's destructive path.

In the midst of this swirling chaos, I cling tightly to Billy, seeking refuge in his presence. His strong arms provide a sense of security, anchoring me to the present moment, even as the world outside seems to be spiraling out of control.

The tornado's wrath looms just beyond the school walls, a relentless force that threatens to consume everything in its path. The air grows thick with anticipation, our breaths shallow, as if awaiting the inevitable impact.

In the face of this impending danger, Billy's grip tightens, his unwavering strength serving as an anchor amidst the storm. His gaze meets mine, his eyes filled with determination, and I draw strength from the unwavering resolve in his expression.

"We're going to make it through this," he assures me, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding us. His words resonate deep within me, stirring a flicker of hope amidst the fear that threatens to consume me.

As the tornado's monstrous presence engulfs the school, we brace ourselves, both physically and emotionally. Time seems to slow, each second stretching into eternity as we steel ourselves for the impact.

Exhausted from the harrowing ordeal, our bodies intertwined as we succumb to the weariness that envelops us. The tumultuous events of the storm have taken their toll, and we drift into a deep, restless sleep.

───── ❝ hope ❞ ─────

As the hours pass, the storm finally subsides, its wrath replaced by an eerie calm. The once-fierce winds now whisper faintly outside, their power spent. Slowly, consciousness begins to stir within us, like emerging from a foggy dream.

Then, as the tempest finally subsides, we are abruptly awoken by a profound silence. The deafening roar of the tornado gives way to an eerie stillness, broken only by the distant sound of emergency sirens and the occasional creak of a damaged structure.

Opening our eyes, we survey our surroundings, a scene of devastation unfolding before us. The once-familiar corridors are now marred by broken walls, shattered windows, and debris scattered haphazardly across the floor.

It’s a surreal sight, the aftermath of nature’s wrath. Yet, amidst the chaos, there is a glimmer of hope. We’ve made it through the storm, emerging on the other side battered but alive.

With the shattered glass on the detention room door, Billy reaches through and deftly turns the handle from the other side. A glimmer of relief washes over us, knowing that we now have an exit from the confined space. Though the windows are broken and the path to safety is strewn with debris, we realize that any open window will suffice, as the glass practically no longer exists.

"Be careful," Billy instructs, his voice laced with concern as he surveys the scattered remnants across the hallway. Taking my hand in his, we proceed with caution, navigating through the remnants of the storm's aftermath. The floor is littered with shattered glass, fallen ceiling tiles, and splintered furniture, a visual testament to the chaos we've endured.

As we make our way through the treacherous path, a fireman catches sight of us and rushes towards us, his expression a mix of relief and urgency. "I FOUND SOMEONE!" he exclaims, his voice filled with a mixture of triumph and concern. With a reassuring hand, he guides us toward the front yard where other students and teachers who sought refuge in the cellar have gathered.

The paramedics swiftly approach, their trained eyes assessing our well-being. Billy reluctantly releases my hand as the paramedic begins to check on us, ensuring that we've escaped the storm's grasp unscathed. I stand alongside Billy, the weight of the harrowing experience settling in, as we wait to be examined.

In the midst of the chaos and the flurry of emergency responders, a sense of gratitude washes over me. We've emerged from the devastation, finding our way to safety against all odds. As the paramedic assesses our physical well-being, I steal a glance at Billy, our eyes meeting briefly.

"Y/N!" Steve Harrington rushes to my side after the paramedics give us the all-clear. His face is filled with relief and a touch of disbelief. "Dude, I definitely thought you were dead."

I offer a wry smile, trying to lighten the mood. "Nope, just left for dead in detention."

Steve pulls me into a tight hug, a mixture of genuine concern and his signature humor. "I can't believe you almost died a virgin," he whispers, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he laughs to himself.

I feel a rush of embarrassment and look around, catching Billy's widened eyes. I see him trying to conceal his reaction, a flicker of annoyance briefly crossing his face.

"Steve!" I exclaim, a mixture of embarrassment and frustration tainting my tone. I shoot a quick glance at Billy, silently pleading for him to understand that Steve's comment was just typical Steve being Steve.

Steve, seemingly aware of the tension, quickly shifts his gaze to Billy, offering him a small smile. It's a gesture of acknowledgement and perhaps even an attempt at easing the tension in the moment.

Realizing that it's time to move on from the chaotic aftermath, Steve takes charge. "Come on," he says, gently guiding me away from the scene. Together, we leave Billy behind, the crowd engulfing him as friends and admirers gather to offer their support.

As we walk away, Steve's presence provides a sense of familiarity and comfort. His friendship, though at times unconventional, has become a pillar of support in the face of adversity. In this moment, his light-hearted banter serves as a reminder that we have survived, and life goes on.

"Hey guys," I halfheartedly greet Steve's friends, who have gradually accepted me as part of their group. They each offer their well wishes, making sure I'm okay before effortlessly transitioning into a different topic of conversation.

As I glance over my shoulder, I catch a glimpse of Billy, his smug demeanor fully intact as he revels in the attention he receives. It's not long before a girl eagerly throws herself at him, adding to the throng of admirers that surround him.

A pang of frustration tugs at my heart, a mix of envy and disappointment. Despite the connection we had forged amidst the chaos of the storm, it seems that Billy's attention is quickly diverted by others. I can't help but wonder if our momentary bond was merely a product of the circumstances, destined to fade away once the storm subsided.

I turn my attention back to Steve's friends, forcing a smile and engaging in their lighthearted banter. They provide a welcome distraction, reminding me that I have a support system of my own within this circle. Despite the lingering disappointment, I find ease in their genuine concern and acceptance.

Amidst the chatter and laughter, I take a deep breath, pushing aside the lingering thoughts of Billy's sudden shift in focus. I remind myself that friendships take time to develop and that everyone has their own journey. Perhaps Billy's actions are simply a reflection of his own insecurities, his need for validation in the wake of the storm.

Resolving to focus on my own path, I immerse myself in the conversation, allowing the warmth of friendship to wash over me. I appreciate the genuine connections I've formed with Steve's friends, knowing that their support will be a constant source of strength as we navigate the challenges that lie ahead.

While Billy may bask in the attention of others, I find comfort in the knowledge that true friendships are built on more than just fleeting moments. It's the shared experiences, the genuine support, and the unwavering presence in times of both joy and adversity that truly define the bonds we hold dear.

And so, I embrace the camaraderie of Steve's friends, grateful for their acceptance and friendship. As we continue to navigate the aftermath of the storm, I know that I have a place within this circle, even as the dynamics around us may shift. Together, we will face whatever comes our way, united in our resilience and the unwavering spirit of Hawkins.

───── ❝ unwilling ❞ ─────

"I don't really want to go," I sighed, sprawling out on Steve's couch. It had been a week since the storm wreaked havoc on our lives, and school was still on hold as they worked to repair and rebuild.

Steve, leaning against the armrest, nudged my feet off the couch. "Come on, it's a party. You're a teenager," he retorted, a playful glint in his eyes. "Besides, it's to celebrate you."

I let out a half-hearted groan, feeling a mix of reluctance and confusion. "It's to celebrate Billy Hargrove," I muttered, my voice laced with a hint of bitterness.

Steve rolled his eyes, sitting down next to me as he tied his shoe. He had never been a fan of Billy, and I knew I now had to act the same way. Deep down, buried beneath the layers of conflicting emotions, I couldn't deny that I carried feelings for Billy. Yet, it had been over a week since the storm, and he hadn't reached out or even acknowledged what had happened.

"You survived a whole eight-hour storm with him," Steve scoffed, a trace of admiration mixed with annoyance in his voice. "That deserves to be celebrated, whether you want to admit it or not."

"Alright, fine," I relented, sitting up on the couch and running a hand through my hair. "But I'm not going for Billy. I'm going for the people who supported me throughout it all, including you."

Steve flashed a smile, a genuine warmth in his eyes. "That's the spirit," he said, clapping a hand on my shoulder. "Now, let's go show them how strong we are, and have a little fun in the process."

I mustered a smile, appreciating Steve's unwavering support. With a renewed sense of purpose, I agreed to join him at the party. It was at Carol Perkins' house, a name that didn't reveal much apart from the fact that Steve seemed genuinely excited about it.

Steve and I hopped into his car, ready for the short drive across town to the party. As we cruised through the familiar streets of Hawkins, the buzz of excitement filled the air. The music from nearby houses echoed through the night, drawing us closer to the vibrant scene that awaited us.

We arrived at our destination, parking amidst a sea of cars that lined the street. The house before us was aglow with colored lights, and laughter and voices carried on the breeze. The front yard was transformed into a lively gathering, with groups of people engaged in animated conversations, clutching red cups or puffing on cigarettes.

Steve and I stepped out of the car, joining the lively crowd that had gathered. The atmosphere was electric, with the mingling scents of alcohol and smoke hanging in the air. Music pulsed through the speakers, setting the rhythm for the night ahead.

"Hey!" Carol greeted with enthusiasm as Steve walked in, and I followed closely behind him.

"Hey," Steve smiled in response, his charm radiating as always.

Carol, as the host of the party, beamed at us, eager to ensure our enjoyment. "Let's get you two some drinks!" she exclaimed, leading us toward the bustling kitchen. As we navigated through the crowd, Carol exchanged greetings with people along the way, her presence captivating those around her.

Finally reaching the kitchen, my eyes caught sight of Billy, engaged in conversation with a girl as he casually sipped from his plastic cup. He exuded a confident demeanor, drawing attention effortlessly.

"It's the survivors!" the girl practically glued against Billy's chest exclaimed, a wide grin spreading across her face. She gestured between me and Billy. "What was it like? Being in the storm?"

I felt a lump form in my throat, momentarily taken aback by the directness of her question. The memories of the storm still lingered, the chaos and other things vivid in my mind. I swallowed, searching for the right words to convey our shared experience.

"Um," I hesitated, my voice betraying a mix of emotions. It was difficult to put into words what we had endured. The storm had brought us together in unexpected ways, and part of me was still grappling with the complex emotions that surfaced in its wake. "Oh, you know, it was a wild ride,"

Steve, offered a lighthearted smile. "But Y/N is here now, stronger than ever."

His words served as a gentle reminder that we had emerged from the storm with a newfound strength. It was a subtle redirection of the conversation, allowing us to navigate the topic with a touch of optimism.

The surrounding people’s attention shifted from me to Steve, intrigued by his playful response. As the conversation continued, I took a moment to collect myself, reminding myself that it was okay to feel a mix of emotions.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around the lively kitchen, the hum of laughter and music filling the air. Despite the lingering unease, there was a sense of camaraderie among the partygoers, united by the shared experience of surviving the storm. As the evening unfolded, I knew there would be more conversations, and more reflections. And as I raised my own plastic cup in a silent toast to resilience, I embraced the uncertainty of the night, ready to navigate the intricacies of the party at Carol’s house.

The girl turned her attention back to Billy, her flirtatious demeanor unwavering. "Babe," she cooed, her voice dripping with sugary sweetness, causing me to snap my attention back towards them. "I really like this song. Let's go dance."

Billy furrowed his eyebrows, a trace of annoyance flickering across his face as he took another sip of his drink. "I don't dance," he replied curtly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Undeterred, the girl forced a laugh, attempting to brush off his resistance. "Yes, you do," she insisted, her hand balling his shirt in a feeble attempt to pull him towards the dance floor.

In a moment of defiance, Billy swiftly pulled her hand off him, his gaze steely. "And I'm not your 'babe'. Fuck off," he snapped, his words dripping with a mixture of frustration and defiance.

A stunned silence fell between them, the girl taken aback by Billy's unexpected rejection. As she stumbled to find a response, I couldn't help but feel a surge of satisfaction.

I watched as Billy turned away from her, his attention shifting elsewhere. His eyes met mine briefly, a flicker of recognition passing between us as the girl retreated, nursing her bruised ego.

Steve threw his head back, a wide grin on his face as he finished his drink. "Do you want to play beer pong?" he asked, his excitement evident.

"I've never played, Steve," I admitted, a mix of curiosity and apprehension in my voice.

Steve's smile only grew wider as he responded, "No worries! We'll be a team. Tommy!" he called out, scanning the crowd. "Beer pong? Me and Y/N versus you and..."

Tommy Hagen, his cup in hand, made his way into the somewhat crowded kitchen, his eyes searching for the source of the invitation. "Hargrove," his tone carrying a hint of challenge.

"Yeah, sure," Billy agreed, casually throwing back the remainder of his drink. Without missing a beat, he headed towards the back yard, Tommy following closely behind.

Steve interlaced our fingers, ensuring we wouldn't be separated in the sea of people. Together, we slowly weaved through the partygoers, making our way to the table set up in the back yard. I watched as Tommy filled the plastic cups with alcohol, his movements fluid and precise.

Billy's gaze briefly flickered towards our intertwined hands, a subtle tension radiating from him. In a quick motion, he averted his eyes, unwilling to dwell on the sight.

As we joined the others at the beer pong table, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. The air was filled with a blend of anticipation and friendly competition as we prepared to face off against Tommy and Billy.

As the game commenced, laughter and cheers filled the air, mingling with the pulsating beat of the music. We threw ourselves into the game, reveling in the friendly banter and the thrill of each successful shot.

In the midst of the playful competition, I stole glances at Billy, our eyes occasionally meeting in brief, unguarded moments.

───── ❝ unwavering ❞ ─────

Steve and Tommy stood on the sidelines, their eyes fixed on the final ball I held in my hand. With determination in their voices, they offered words of encouragement. "You can do it!" Steve cheered, his voice filled with unwavering support.

But Billy, leaning casually against the table on the opposite end, couldn't resist taunting me. His laughter rang through the air as he dismissed my chances of success. "No, you can't," he taunted, his voice laced with playful arrogance. "Sweetheart, you're gonna miss it. Just give up and let me win this."

I took a deep breath, blocking out Billy's teasing remarks. With a focused gaze, I bounced the ping pong ball, sending it soaring through the air. Time seemed to slow down as it descended, its trajectory aligning perfectly with the last cup in front of Billy.

A moment of silence hung in the air, followed by a collective gasp from the onlookers. The ball found its mark, landing with precision and sinking into the cup. Tommy groaned in defeat, while Steve erupted into jubilant celebration.

In the midst of the commotion, Steve embraced me in a tight hug. As we basked in the victory, Steve's voice cut through the noise. "How's the normal teenage experience going?" he asked, a hint of mischief in his tone.

I shrug, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. "I don't think I love parties, but this one is okay," I replied, my words carrying a sense of lightheartedness.

Steve guided me back inside, his hand resting on the small of my back, leading me away from the beer pong table and the lingering sight of Billy surrounded by his admirers. The pulsating energy of the party filled the air, as people mingled and conversations buzzed around us.

But before I could process it all, a girl stepped forward, a flirtatious smile playing on her lips. "Hey, Steve. You look really great tonight," she said, her fingers absently toying with the hem of her shirt.

Steve returned her smile, and I felt a twinge of discomfort at the sight. Not wanting to be a mere bystander in his flirtations, I decided to make my way to the kitchen, in search of a respite from the lively crowd.

As I stood by the sink, filling my cup with cool water, a voice interrupted my thoughts. "Hi, Y/N, right?" a boy asked, catching my attention.

I turned to face him, trying to place his face. "Yep, that's me," I replied, my voice friendly and polite.

“We had English together last year, remember?”

I racked my brain, desperately searching for any recollection of our past encounter. But the truth was, I drew a blank. "Oh! Yeah, totally," I replied, offering a quick smile and a small nod, hoping to mask my lack of memory.

"I think you're, like, really brave for managing to stay strong after what you went through," the boy remarked, taking a step closer to me.

I smiled appreciatively at his kind words, grateful for the acknowledgment. "Well, I wasn't alone,"

He chuckled, a warm sound that echoed in the lively atmosphere. "But you and Billy don't exactly get along," he observed, his eyes sparkling with curiosity. "I don't think I could have gotten out of that detention unscathed like you."

A soft laugh escaped my lips, a blend of amusement and understanding. "You never know, sometimes the people you least expect can surprise you," I mused, my gaze meeting his with a touch of optimism.

"So, you having fun?" he asked, a playful grin on his face.

I nodded "I was. It's been quite a night."

He chuckled, teasingly. "Steve ditch you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Is he like your boyfriend now or something?"

I let out a laugh, shaking my head at the suggestion. "Ew, no," I replied, a touch of amusement in my tone. "Steve and I have been best friends since like Kindergarten."

Billy entered the kitchen, his gaze fixated on the boy I was engaged in conversation with. There was a subtle tension in the air as he approached us, his eyes narrowing in an unspoken challenge.

The boy in front of me joined in on the laughter, the sound filling the space between us. "So, there's no boyfriend then?" he inquired, curiosity glinting in his eyes.

Billy's presence beside me was palpable, his intense gaze fixed on the boy as he approached the sink next to me.

I shifted slightly, feeling the subtle brush of Billy’s arm against mine as he reached behind me to fill his cup with water. The proximity sent a shiver down my spine, a mix of excitement and trepidation coursing through me.

As I turned my attention back to the boy in front of me, I couldn't help but notice the curiosity gleaming in his eyes. His question lingered in the air, and I felt a playful smile tug at the corners of my lips.

"No," I replied, my voice carrying a hint of amusement.

Billy cleared his throat, drawing our attention to his presence as he leaned against the counter beside me. His piercing gaze locked onto the other boy, sizing him up with an intense scrutiny. He took a deliberate sip of his water, his lips curling into a faint smirk.

The boy, seemingly unfazed by Billy's imposing aura, mustered up the courage to ask, "Would you want to go out sometime then? With me?"

Caught off guard, I glanced around, feeling a slight twinge of awkwardness. The weight of the moment seemed to hang in the air, and I searched for the right words to respond. “Oh,” I stammered, my cheeks flushing slightly. “Yeah, maybe.”

As the words left my lips, I sensed a shift in the energy between Billy and me. A silent tension enveloped us, as if the unspoken connection we shared danced on the precipice of something more. Billy’s expression remained inscrutable, his gaze holding mine for a fleeting moment before he turned and walked away.

Left standing there, my attention returned to the boy in front of me, who seemed content with my response.

“Awesome,��� the boy grinned, his excitement palpable. “So should I, like, call you?”

I offered a smile. “Obviously not right now, but I’ll see you around,” I replied, slowly starting to leave the kitchen.

But before I could make my way through the crowd, the boy took a few steps to follow me. His enthusiasm was endearing, but my mind was elsewhere. “Do you want to dance or anything?”

“No, I actually have to find Steve,” I explained, my voice barely audible above the pulsating music. “Make sure he isn’t passed out or whatever.”

As I turned to make my way back into the heart of the party, I found myself engulfed in a sea of people, the noise and energy enveloping me. It was then that I felt a hand brush past my waist, sending a shiver down my spine. A familiar breath tickled my ear, and I turned to find Billy standing there, his presence commanding my attention.

His words, laced with a mixture of intrigue and mischief, sent a jolt of excitement through me. “You excited for your little date?” he whispered, his voice filled with a hint of playfulness.

I could feel my heart race in response, a surge of conflicting emotions swirling within me.

With a playful smile, I leaned closer to Billy, allowing myself to be caught up in the electrifying atmosphere of the party. “I guess we’ll see,” I whispered back, my voice carrying a touch of mystery.

Billy’s hand wrapped around my wrist, his grip firm yet gentle. I held my breath, anticipation coursing through me as I waited for him to speak. “I thought I told you,”

Before Billy could utter another word, Steve’s voice cut through the noise of the party, calling out my name. The moment shattered as I turned my head in Steve’s direction, momentarily distracted by his presence.

Billy's jaw clenched, his eyes refusing to waver from mine as he released my wrist. A mixture of frustration and longing crossed his face, evident in the way he huffed and ran a hand through his hair. Without another word, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the swirling sea of partygoers.

Steve finally reached me, his presence providing a sense of grounding amidst the whirlwind of emotions. He took my hand, his touch comforting as he pulled me away from the chaotic scene. "I've been looking for you!" he exclaimed, a mixture of relief and concern in his voice. "Let's take a break and sit outside."

I allowed Steve to lead me towards the door, but my gaze kept turning back, trying to catch a glimpse of Billy amidst the crowd. There was a part of me that yearned for closure, for answers to the unspoken connection between us.

As we stepped outside, the noise of the party faded into the background, replaced by the soft breeze and the distant sound of music. Steve found a quiet spot, and we settled down, the weight of the evening's events settling upon us.

Even as I tried to focus on the present moment with Steve, my mind kept drifting back to Billy. I couldn't shake the feeling of unfinished business, the lingering questions that remained unanswered.

I found myself torn between the familiarity of Steve's friendship and the magnetic pull of Billy's enigmatic presence.

“How’s your night been?” I asked Steve, a playful smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “What happened with that girl?”

Steve’s face lit up with excitement as he shared the news. “We’re going out tomorrow night!” he exclaimed, unable to contain his happiness.

I let out a dramatic sigh, teasing him gently. “Finally!” I exclaimed, feigning exasperation. “I thought you’d never make a move on anyone.”

Steve pouted playfully, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Hey now,” he protested, his tone mockingly hurt. “You’re the only girl my parents like. You’re stuck with me for life.”

“Yeah, I’m okay with that,” I replied, a playful smile curling on my lips. “As long as I’m not forced to be the next Mrs. Harrington.”

Steve chuckled, his eyes shining with affection. “I love you, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he teased. “The only way we’re ever getting married is if we’re both unhappy, stuck in Hawkins, and still single at the ripe old age of 35.”

We shared a lighthearted laugh, knowing that our futures held so much more than the small town we called home.

I gazed out at the street, the aftermath of the storm evident in the fallen trees and debris scattered along the pavement. The cool breeze brushed against my skin, providing a refreshing respite from the muffled sounds of the ongoing party.

Steve's voice broke through my reverie, his question drawing my attention. "You ready to go home?" he asked, concern lacing his words.

I tilted my head playfully, eyeing him. "Are you sober enough to drive?" I teased, knowing Steve's tendency to indulge in a drink or two during social gatherings.

A mischievous grin appeared on his face. "Do you need me to recite the alphabet backwards?" he retorted, a hint of mock seriousness in his tone.

Chuckling, I pushed myself up from the spot where I had been sitting. "I have to use the bathroom first," I informed him, gesturing towards the house. "I'll meet you at the car."

Steve nodded, his eyes following me as I made my way back inside. Finding my way through the lively crowd, I navigated towards the bathroom, grateful for a moment of solitude amidst the vibrant energy of the party.

I closed the bathroom door behind me, shutting out the chaos of the party, and I took a moment to collect myself. Placing my hands on either side of the sink, I leaned forward, my eyes fixed on my reflection in the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, I let the weight of the night wash over me. The exhilaration, the uncertainties, and the tantalizing possibilities that lay just beyond the horizon. With renewed determination, I straightened up and met my own gaze in the mirror.

I reached for the door handle, my hand poised to open it and rejoin the party outside. However, before I could grasp the handle, the door swung open, revealing Billy standing there, his expression filled with a mix of anger and frustration. He stepped inside, closing the door behind him, effectively trapping us in the confined space of the bathroom.

My breath caught in my throat as I met his intense gaze. The air between us crackled with tension, and I could feel the weight of his words before he even spoke them. “I’m real fucking mad at you,” he stated firmly, his voice laced with a raw intensity. he reaches his hand forward, wrapping his fingers around the base of my throat.

“Why is that?” I challenged, my voice laced with a mixture of frustration and determination. My eyes blazed with heat as I locked onto his.

His response came as a whisper, yet it reverberated through the room. “I told you, you’re mine,” he declared, his voice filled with a mix of possessiveness and vulnerability. “Or did you forget?”

“Maybe,” I retorted, my voice filled with a mix of defiance and playful challenge. “Are you going to have to remind me?”

A mischievous grin danced across Billy’s lips, and he closed the distance between us, stepping towards me until my back was pressed against the cool surface of the kitchen sink. His proximity sent a thrill coursing through me, and my breath hitched in anticipation.

In that moment, the world around us faded into the background as his lips captured mine in a passionate and all-consuming kiss.

The intensity of his touch sent shivers down my spine, erasing any doubts or hesitations that lingered within me. Our lips moved in perfect synchrony, a dance of desire and longing.

As our kiss deepened, the outside world ceased to exist. There was only the heat of our connection, the intertwining of our breaths, and the shared exploration of unspoken desires. The sound of the party faded into a distant hum, drowned out by the rising tide of passion between us. I surrendered myself to the intoxicating pull of Billy’s touch. The heat of his lips against mine, the possessiveness of his embrace.

“Are you okay Y/N?” I hear Steve’s voice, his fingers knocking on the door.

I heard Steve’s voice outside the bathroom door, his concerned tone breaking through the haze of passion that enveloped me. Billy pulled back slightly, his body still pressed against mine, as he placed a few sloppy kisses along my jaw and collarbones. The sensation sent a shiver down my spine, heightening the desire that pulsed between us.

I struggled to compose myself, my voice slightly breathless as I responded to Steve, “Yeah, I’m okay! Just be a minute!” My words came out in a rushed whisper, my mind still clouded by the intensity of the moment.

“Okay, I’ll be in the car. Hurry up” Steve’s voice faded into the background as Billy suckles at the perfect tender spot on my skin and I moan softly.

Billy’s lips found their way back to mine, his kisses carrying a mix of urgency and longing. I couldn’t help but respond, my own desire intertwining with his, as our lips met in another passionate embrace

As I reluctantly pulled back from Billy’s intoxicating kiss, my mind momentarily drifted to the world outside our passionate bubble. “I have to go”

Billy groaned in response, his lips seeking mine once more as if pleading to continue. In that moment, I found myself succumbing to the allure of his touch, momentarily forgetting everything around me.

But reality had a way of sneaking back in, and I gently pushed against Billy’s chest, creating a small space between us. “Steve’s waiting,” I reminded him, my voice filled with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Steve’s name hung in the air like a fleeting reminder of responsibility.

A flicker of frustration danced across Billy’s face, but he quickly composed himself. His breath brushed against my skin as he muttered, “Don’t think about him when I’m touching you,” his words laced with desire and possessiveness. His lips found their way to my collarbones, planting a series of fervent kisses, igniting a fire within me that was hard to extinguish.

The sensations overwhelmed me, and for a moment, I was lost in the thought of what could happen tonight. But the knowledge that I couldn’t keep Steve waiting tugged at my conscience, and with a heavy sigh, I reluctantly disentangled myself from Billy’s embrace.

“I have to go,” I whispered, my voice filled with a mix of longing and regret. I brushed a strand of hair away from my face, my eyes locked with his for a fleeting moment, conveying the unspoken desire and unfinished emotions between us.

Billy nodded, his eyes holding a mix of longing and disappointment. With a final lingering kiss on my lips, he released me, allowing me to make my way back to the reality awaiting me outside the secluded space we had shared.

As I closed the bathroom door behind me, leaving Billy in the temporary sanctuary of our shared desires, I returned to the vibrant atmosphere of the party. The sounds of laughter and music filled the air, mingling with the fluttering butterflies in my stomach.

Outside, Steve awaited me in his car, his impatience evident as he drummed his hands on the steering wheel. I slid into the passenger seat, a small smile playing on my lips. "That took forever," he groaned, playfully expressing his frustration.

I rolled my eyes, a hint of amusement in my voice. "Oh, come on. It wasn't that long."

He chuckled, shaking his head in mock exasperation. With a twist of the ignition, the car roared to life, carrying us away from the lingering echoes of the party. The drive back to his house was filled with comfortable silence.

As the familiar sights of Hawkins passed by, I couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and uncertainty. The memory of Billy's touch still lingered. But for now, as Steve maneuvered through the familiar streets, I leaned back in my seat, allowing the cool night air to brush against my skin.

As we approached Steve's house, I couldn't help but steal a glance at the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of my reflection. The spark in my eyes, the trace of a smile on my lips, and the memories of the stolen moments with Billy were reminders of the whirlwind that had enveloped me.

As we stepped out of the car and made our way into Steve's house, a heavy sigh escaped his lips, drawing my attention to my best friend. Concern etched across my face, I reached out to him. "What's up?" I inquired, my voice filled with genuine curiosity.

Steve's shoulders slumped, his gaze fixed on the ground. "I feel like an asshole," he admitted, his voice laced with self-blame.

Surprised by his confession, I searched his eyes for answers. "Why?" I questioned gently, hoping to understand his turmoil.

"When the sirens went off, I didn't even think about you," Steve confessed, his words heavy with regret. "We got to the cellar and locked the doors. Nobody noticed you and Billy were gone."

I listened attentively, a mix of understanding and compassion flooding my heart. I reached out, gently placing my hand on his arm. "Steve, it's okay. We lived," I reassured him, my voice filled with reassurance.

His eyes met mine, a glimmer of sadness reflecting in their depths. "And if you didn't? Y/N, I can't imagine a world without you," he confessed, his voice choked with emotion. "Seriously, if they had pulled out your body, I'd..."

I placed a comforting hand on his cheek, my touch meant to convey understanding. "Billy actually protected me," I interrupted softly, wanting to ease his guilt. "He made sure I was okay. We talked and slept through most of the storm."

Steve's eyes widened in surprise, his expression a mix of relief and concern. "I wish I could have been there with you," he whispered, his voice filled with genuine regret.

Squeezing his hand gently, I offered him a small smile. "It's okay, Steve," I reassured him, my words filled with sincerity. "You couldn't have known what would happen."

Steve nodded, a mix of gratitude and sadness in his eyes.

───── ❝ unknown ❞ ─────

Steve parked the car in front of my house, and we both sat there for a moment, a mixture of excitement and nerves filling the air. He turned to look at me from the driver’s seat, his eyes searching for reassurance.

"Are you sure this shirt isn't ugly?" he asked, a hint of insecurity in his voice.

I couldn't help but gasp in surprise. "I brought you that shirt," I exclaimed, remembering the day we went shopping together and stumbled upon that particular piece.

He didn't say anything, just stared at me with a mix of gratitude and surprise.

"No, Steve," I reassured him. "You look great. Go enjoy your date. Just make sure she doesn't realize how much of a dumbass you can be sometimes."

A smile played on his lips as he nodded. "I'll call you later."

"I don't need the details," I teased, rolling my eyes playfully.

He waved goodbye and drove off, leaving me standing in front of my house wearing one of Steve's old shirts and a pair of shorts. I watched as his car disappeared down the street, feeling a mix of happiness for him and a tinge of loneliness.

Just then, the sound of a car engine caught my attention. I turned and saw Billy parking his blue Camaro a few houses away. My heart skipped a beat as I watched him step out of the car, his presence commanding attention.

I took a deep breath, adjusting my borrowed shirt, and made my way towards him.

“Hey,” I greeted Billy as I approached him, a mix of anticipation and nervousness swirling inside me.

"You weren't here last night," he observed, his eyes scanning me for any signs of explanation.

"No," I replied, raising an eyebrow. "I stayed at Steve's."

Billy's expression flickered, a hint of surprise and something else I couldn't quite decipher. He glanced away momentarily before meeting my gaze again.

"Steve's, huh?" he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of skepticism.

I shrugged, not wanting to delve into the details. "Yeah, we just hung out, talked, and watched some movies. Nothing special."

Billy's eyes lingered on me for a moment longer, as if searching for something beneath the surface. He seemed torn between curiosity and restraint, his usual guarded demeanor wavering.

"Well," he finally said, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Guess I'll have to make up for lost time then." A playful glint danced in Billy's eyes as he asked, "Are you going to invite me inside, or do I have to settle for fucking you in my car?"

I smirked, enjoying Billy's playful challenge. "Well, if you're offering, I wouldn't mind the car," I replied with a teasing glint in my eyes.

Billy raised an eyebrow, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Is that so?" he responded, stepping closer to me.

Before I could respond, he leaned in, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. The intensity of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through me, igniting a fire that had been smoldering between us

As the kiss deepened, I could feel the hunger and desire building between us, a magnetic force pulling us closer together. The touch of his lips against mine was both passionate and tender, a perfect balance of raw emotion and restrained longing.

Eventually, we pulled apart, our breaths mingling in the air. Billy's eyes bore into mine, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. It was a silent invitation, an unspoken question hanging between us.

I smiled, the answer clear in my eyes. "Why don't we take this inside?" I suggested, my voice filled with anticipation.

Billy nodded, his grip tightening around his keys. "Lead the way," he murmured, a newfound excitement dancing in his eyes.

As I entered the house, Billy followed closely behind, the anticipation between us growing with each passing moment. I called out, hoping nobody would be home to answer. The absence of any response confirmed that we were alone, adding an extra layer of excitement to the air. “I guess it’s just us”

“Good” Billy responded quickly, pressing me against the wall, a surge of heat coursed through my veins, intensifying the desire between us. His hands explored my body with a hunger that mirrored my own, igniting a fiery passion that consumed us both.

Our lips met in a desperate kiss, a collision of lips and tongues that spoke volumes of the untamed desire we shared. Each touch, each caress sent electric shocks through my body, awakening every nerve ending. I melted into his embrace, surrendering to the intoxicating sensations that enveloped us.

Billy’s touch was both gentle and possessive, his fingertips tracing delicate patterns along my skin, leaving a trail of tingling sensations in their wake. The heat between us grew, fueling an insatiable hunger that seemed to consume us entirely.

As our bodies moved in sync, the rhythm of our desires matched perfectly. Moans and whispers filled the air, mingling with the sound of our racing hearts.

"Where's your bedroom?" Billy asked between kisses, his voice husky with desire.

"It's right over..." I started to respond, but my words were interrupted by a yelp as he effortlessly picked me up, his strength evident. The excitement in his eyes only intensified my own anticipation.

"Tell me," he demanded, his voice laced with a mix of command and desire.

I quickly directed him to my room, my heart racing as we made our way there. The anticipation grew with every step, each one bringing us closer to the privacy we both craved.

As we entered the room, Billy wasted no time in locking the door, ensuring that we were completely alone in our intimate space. The click of the lock echoed through the room, sealing us away from the outside world.

He gently placed me down on the bed, his touch sending sparks of electricity through my body. The hunger in his eyes mirrored my own.

“You makes my heart thump, my cock hard and my mind dirty. The things I want to do to you should be considered a sin.” Billy mumbled, his gaze fixed on me as I lay on my bed. His words caused a warmth to spread across my cheeks, a blush that betrayed the mix of emotions swirling within me.

Billy shifted his position, his body now hovering above mine, his strength carefully balanced to ensure he didn’t overwhelm me with his weight. As he settled into this new position, his hand gently traced the curve of my bottom lip, his touch eliciting a shiver that ran down my spine.

His gaze locked with mine, his eyes filled with a mixture of desire and tenderness. The touch of his hand on my lip was both electrifying and gentle, a delicate cares.. His fingers traced the outline, as if memorizing every contour, every detail, igniting a fiery longing within me. I felt my breath hitch in anticipation, my heart pounding with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

“I want you, right now” I whisper, my lips hovering over his as I grabs the hem of Steve’s shirt, “but I need to get this off.” Billy nods. It’s bad enough I’m about to fuck my best friend’s enemy again, but I don’t want to fuck him with his clothes on.

I lift the large shirt over my head, discarding it to the floor and he dives forward, lips on my neck as he licks, kisses and sucks on my soft skin. My hands are in his hair, pulling his lips from her skin so I can sink my lips over his in a slow, torturous kiss before I pull on my bottom lip with my teeth.

Billy moves away from me, pulling at the string of the shorts and tugging them down my legs. My hands find his broad shoulders as I sit up and balance herself, removing one foot at a time. Billy throws them to the side before his eyes glide up my body, taking every inch of me in until his eyes finally land on mine. My eyes fluttering as I blink, chest rising and falling fast.

Billy tugs my legs forward so i’m sat on the edge of my mattress before pushing his lips against my inner thigh, trailing soft kisses against my hot skin.

“Y/N” He whispers, looking up at me through his lashes, “You’re mine.”

I cant help but nod my head, shallow pants leaving me.

“Good,” He groans, lifting his lips and pressing them on my other thigh, hooking a long finger in the side of the scrap of material and pull it to the side, exposing me. Sinking his teeth into his bottom lip, I watch him fall back on his knees as he reaches for me with his other hand and pushes my lips apart, sucking in a breath through his teeth.

“Billy,” I whisper, as he lifts my leg and place it over his shoulder, then tap my inner thigh of my left leg asking for me to spread out a little.

“Remember what I said before the storm?” He let his eyes find mine. “I said I like it when you say my name. Now sweetheart, I want you to show me how good my name sounds coming off your tongue whilst you cum on mine.”

“Fuck,” I whisper, as he swipes his tongue through my parted lips, flicking it against my clit then gliding it down, swirling and teasing before his back on the clit, sucking and nibbling. His fingers dig into my sensitive skin, spare hand skimming up to my bare stomach and holding me in place to stop my wriggling.

He buries his tongue deeper, trailing a hand to my other thigh and lift it over his left shoulder, then grip to my waist as he holds me where he wants me.

Slowly grazing his fingers under her ass, he lets them trail down behind me and tease at her opening, edging the tip of two fingers into my soaked pussy which causes my hips to buck forward, as his tongue laps across my sensitive area.

“Oh, Billy,” I pant, fingers finding his hair as I tug at the root, pushing him deeper.

Edging a little further into me, I feel him curl his fingers as he rubs my g-spot then slowly begin pumping in and out, matching the strokes of his tongue.

“Please Billy, I need more,” I begs, and he lifts his mouth from me, so he can look at me, fingers still fucking me.

“Then come,” He smirks, throwing a wink at me as he lurches forward and sinks his tongue between my lips again, sucking on my clit.

Billy teases with a third fingertip causing me to whimper as he slowly slips it in. I constrict around his fingers, pelvis tilting up slightly, giving him better access.

“I knew you were greedy,” He whispers between tongue strokes.

“Billy,” I moans, feeling him tilt his head to the side slightly and press his tongue flat against my clit “Shit,” I cry.

“Are you going to come for me?” His fingers fuck faster, harder.

“Yes, so fucking hard,” I cry again, fingers knot in his hair. I clench tightly as I grind down on his fingers, hips rocking back and forth slowly and I start to lose control.

I screams his name, pleasure lacing my voice. I feel Billy slide his tongue to her opening, lapping up as the wetness coats his fingers. He pulls away, watching as his fingers continue to fuck me, arousal coats his hand, a few drips running down his wrist and he smirks up at me.

“Enjoying this, sweetheart?” He asks in a raspy tone as he slowly moves my legs down and they tremble in his tight grip. I nod slowly, hazy from the orgasm that ripped through me. I reach between her legs and starts swirling my fingers over my clit.

He keeps his eyes focused on my pussy but just as I gets into it, I make myself stop, reaching for his hand and slipping his fingers out. I lifts them to my lips and sucks the three of them clean whilst keeping my eyes pinned on his. “Oh fuck,” Billy moans as pleasure ripples through him.

I grab his chin, fingers tight as I grips, and pulls him to my feet. Billy towers over me, causing my hand to drop.

“Now it’s my turn,” My fingers run under the waistband of his jeans, then hungrily tug them down his toned thighs. I feel my eyes widen, glazing with delight as I looks from his cock to his face, and smiles.

“I want you to take all of me,” Billy grips a fistful of my hair, tipping my head back so she has no option now but to look at him. “Do you understand? Every, single, inch of me.”

I nods eagerly, licking my lips.

“Good” He croons, stepping forwards as he pulls me towards him. My hands wrap around his girthy length as I purse my lips at his tip. My tongue swipes across, licking the precum away then hollowing my cheeks as I take him to the back of my throat. My body lurches forward as I gag, slipping me from her mouth. “Take it slow…”

I hear Billy choke on his own breath as I push my mouth down my cock, stilling when I get to the base and this time, I don’t gag.

“Shit,” He sucks in a harsh breath, and I slip him in and out of my mouth then twirls my tongue at his tip, I flatten my tongue and run it down the underside of his cock.

“Y/N,” Billy grits out, head tipping back as he grabs a bigger fistful of her hair, mouth slipping down his. “I’m going to explode,” He moans, moving my head up and down, teeth gently grazing along the sensitive skin. I pull him from my mouth, then spits on him. Rubbing my thumb over the tip of his dick. “Fuck. Open your mouth.”

I do as he says, sitting on my knees, eyes on him as, waiting with open mouth. I watch as Billy fists himself, keeping eyes locked on me.

His jaw clenches, head falling forward as pleasure consumes him. I just kneel up, taking him in my mouth as he wraps a hand around the back of my head, holding me there as he gently fucks my mouth. Saliva runs down my chin, my moans pushing Billy to continue.

“I’m going to come,” He grits, hips thrusting fast, cock slipping in and out of my mouth sloppily.

His eyes roll in the back of his head as I suck the life from him, lurching forward spurting down the back of my throat.

“Fuck!” He roars, a shiver blankets him causing him to shudder. I fall back, wiping the corner of her mouth before standing. Pulling me her towards him, Billy wraps his arms around me. We just stand for a while, completely forgetting where we are, just lost in this moment.

And in the aftermath, as our breaths mingled and our bodies trembled with the intensity of our shared release, we lay intertwined, our hearts still racing in the aftermath of our fiery encounter.

───── ❝ exposition ❞ ─────



School returned to its normal routine a week later, and during that time, Billy and I hadn’t crossed paths. The absence of his presence left a lingering sense of anticipation and curiosity within me.

Walking through the familiar hallways, I couldn’t help but steal glances, searching for that familiar mop of dark hair, those piercing blue eyes that had ignited a fire within me.

Billy sauntered into the hallways, his presence commanding attention as his eyes locked with mine. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips. However, before I could fully revel in that moment, my view of Billy was interrupted by the boy from the party, who had approached me.

“Hey, Y/N, how are you?” he greeted, trying to engage in conversation.

I offered a polite smile, my mind still lingering on the enigmatic boy who had captured my attention. “Um, fine,” I replied, trying to keep my focus on the present as I opened my locker.

The boy seemed eager, perhaps misinterpreting my friendliness. “I was a little nervous to call, so I was hoping we could just go for dinner and a movie tonight after school.”

I hesitated, my thoughts momentarily shifting to the secret moments I had shared with Billy, the secret connection that still lingered.

“Oh, sorry,” I began, my voice gentle yet firm, “but I’m actually not interested.”

His expression faltered, a mix of surprise and disappointment evident on his face. I felt a pang of guilt, understanding that I had inadvertently led him on.

“But you…” he started, his voice tinged with frustration as he reached out and grabbed my arm.

“Please don’t touch me,” I firmly requested, pulling my arm away from his grasp. It was a clear boundary that needed to be set, a reminder that my consent and personal space were to be respected.

I could feel Billy’s gaze on me as I shut my locker, determined to create distance between myself and the boy who had approached me. With a resolute stride, I made my way down the hall and into an empty classroom, seeking solace in the familiar walls and quiet atmosphere. I sat on a desk near the front, my eyes fixed on the door, silently hoping that Billy would follow.

A minute later, the door cracked open, and I held my breath as Billy slipped inside. There was a mixture of curiosity and concern in his eyes, as if he had sensed something amiss and was now seeking answers.

Without uttering a word, I gestured for him to join me. He closed the door behind him, the sound of it sealing us off from the outside world.

Billy took a few tentative steps toward me, his expression filled with an unspoken question. I met his gaze, my eyes reflecting a myriad of emotions, a mix of uncertainty and longing.

Billy positioned his hands on either side of me. I could feel his touch, his fingers lightly brushing against my thighs, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Yours,” I whispered, my voice barely audible in the intimate space between us.

A smug smirk danced on Billy’s lips as he leaned in, closing the distance between us. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, a merging of desire. His hands explored my body, tracing tantalizing paths, leaving a trail of electrifying sensations in their wake.

But just as the intensity between us reached its peak, the sound of the bell echoed through the classroom, signaling the end of our stolen moment. With reluctance, Billy pulled away, his eyes locked with mine, both of us left craving more.

“We’ll continue this later,” he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of promise and frustration.

Copyright © 2023 Altitude. All rights reserved.

[strongheartneteyam]

Realize where you belong.

Pairing: neteyam sully x female!human!reader/female!dreamwalker!reader

Chapter 7

CW: a good amount of angst, reader finally is letting neteyam in and realizing how she does truly love him too, physical contact, neteyam suffering while holding back from mating w/ reader, mentions of sex, yearning, sexual language, reader and neteyam acting like a cute couple, playful flirting, reader is more vulnerable with neteyam, a lot of fluff, reader feels guilty about the way she's been treating neteyam. Tell me if I'm missing something important!

Sorry for taking long to update, my angels 🥺🤍 unfortunately I'm going through a tough path in my personal life rn and bc of that I fell on a horrible depressive episode that I'm still on. So, my motivation to do stuff is very low at the moment and as I have to deal with my adult responsibilities that I can't run from bc nobody can, rn the best I'm able to do is focus the tiny bit of energy I have onto getting them done. I won't be able to update my fanfics as fast as I used to for some time. Can't say how long, it's not under my control currently, sorry :( But I LOVE writing, it's a great escape for me, from life problems and stuff, so, I really do not plan on stop writing fanfiction. I promise! Don't worry too much. Some of the upcoming chapters of this fanfiction, for example, are already saved on my Google Docs. I'll take longer but I won't stop updating. Anyway, I'm a tiny bit (ok maybe much more than that lol) insecure about this chapter but I hope y'all like it. Seeing your comments about the fic would make me incredibly happy. I'm needing some serotonin right now 🥲 Thanks for reading my writings ♡

Not proofread. Sorry if some parts are a bit messed up. I'll proofread it as soon as I can <3

Chapter 6

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You gave me roses and I left them there to die

So this is me swallowin' my pride

Standin' in front of you sayin' I'm sorry for that night

(...)

It turns out freedom ain't nothin' but missin' you

Back to December (Taylor Swift)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

You inclined yourself slowly and sheepishly in Neteyam's direction, still feeling guilty for the way you had been treating him before. Neteyam sensed your self doubt and quickly swept you off your feet, taking you inside his arms, so he could finally get the hug he had been dying for, so he could finally feel your small body against his bigger one. His big hands were now under your thighs, securing you in place against his warm body. That closeness, his touch… it all felt incredibly good. You cursed yourself for pushing him away and postponing that moment. To think you could have felt that before and you didn't… "Stupid girl" you thought.

You were now really far from the ground but you felt safe. Now you knew Neteyam would always protect you. He would not let you fall and get hurt. He was not and had never been a threat to you. There was not and there never was any reason for you to be afraid of him.

"Oeyä yawne…" (my beloved) "You feel so soft and tiny… Eywa… Nga yawne lu oer" (I love you) His voice was choked with emotion as he held back tears of joy while he hugged you as tight as he was able to - without hurting you - and you rested your head upon his shoulder. Your nose was hovering over his neck and you sniffed his skin, smelling his natural, cozy scent. It was intoxicating, drawing you in, making you wanna stay like that forever. 

You breathed in deep and relaxed inside his huge arms that held you for the first time but still strangely felt like home, like you had felt them around you a thousand times already. If you believed in past lives - which you didn't - you'd explain this odd but amazing feeling as you having found your soulmate again, in this current life. There was no fear of Neteyam inside of you anymore. You only yearned for more and more of him, only a burning affection kept your whole being warm, just like his massive body did too.

"There's still something I need to ask of you, if this is gonna work out between us." You said, breaking the hug for a while to look him in the eye

"Say it, yawne."

Neteyam was still so utterly happy that he did not even seem to be shaken by that, which he could have been

"You know why I pushed you away. First of all, finding out an alien double your size has been stalking you is freaking unnerving." You still gazed into his eyes, wanting him to pay attention to your words "Second, you acted like a creep. At least compared to the way human guys act around girls they're interested in. I don't really have any experience dating na'vi boys, you know?" You choked a little as you were trying hard to hold back laughter

"Ouch…" Neteyam playfully pretended to be extremely hurt by your previous statements. He chuckled "In my defense, I'd say my instincts are to blame, not me, exactly." You gave him a death stare, but in a playful manner too "When I saw you, I knew you would be the perfect mate for me and I had to make you mine. Everything about you rubbed me just the right way."

You smiled. He was being silly and so sweet. You just could not resist it.

"By the way, when did you see me for the first time?" 

Neteyam seemed to get shy after that question. You wondered why.

"I fell in love with you while you were in your Avatar body, yawntu. That's when I first saw you." Neteyam looked up at you again, smiling but showing no teeth

"You what?" You questioned him, a bit shocked but you could not bring yourself to be mad at him, though. Imagining him hiding behind trees and up in branches to watch you silently seemed adorable in your eyes, now. 

And yes, you knew it sounded crazy, to find someone who used to literally stalk you adorable, but nobody said that anything that was happening to you right now made any sense. Not even you would try to.

"How did I never notice you were around?" You shook your head in disapproval of your distraction back in the forest.

What if it had been a na'vi who did not trust you a single bit to even let you Dreamwalk freely, without grabbing you by the arm and taking you to the Olo'eyktan and the Tsahìk? Some na'vi hated humans to that point. And, as you always said and always would say, you had a great empathy towards them and could imagine yourself feeling the same way if you were na'vi. You could never bring yourself to judge them as harshly as way too many humans did. You knew they were not the villains of the story. But still, what if that na'vi tried to hurt you? You felt tense at the thought.

Neteyam noticed your uneasiness and tried to calm you.

"Don't worry, yawne. I'm a great warrior. A big part of being a good warrior is being really focused on one's mission and knowing how to get by as unnoticed as possible. So many other humans in their Avatars and even many, many na'vi wouldn't notice me, either."

Neteyam still wanted to call those other humans "demons in false bodies" but he was not going to. He knew it would hurt you and make you feel like he was talking about you too. But he was not. Whenever he had called you "demon", it never meant the same thing as it would mean if he was talking about any other human. But he knew it would be hard for you to understand. So he promised himself that he would never call you "demon" again. After that eclipse night when the both of you were talking in front of your bedroom window, he realized how much it hurt you when he called you that. He hated himself for bringing you pain. And his heart hurt so badly when he thought about the possibility of you pushing him away again. It made him want to hold onto your small, frail body tightly and say "Please, don't leave me! I can't be without you again… Please…"

"If you say so… I still think I should've been more careful, though." You say, still feeling a little nervous and thinking that maybe you had not been the best student when attending to your classes about na'vi behavior and that maybe you didn't pay enough attention to warnings they may have given about being mindful of your surroundings when Dreamwalking 

"I promise it's okay. It was not your fault, yawntu. I'm just good at what I do." His smile clearly showed he was proud of being a good warrior

"Ok, then." You smiled back at him and the both of you laughed a bit.

Suddenly, he stopped smiling and his gaze dropped to your lips, that were not that far from his own lips, if it wasn't for that damn oxygen mask. You felt like he wanted to kiss you. The moment was awkward but in a good way. He could not kiss you with the mask on, so, instead, he smiled at you once again and looked down at the floor, bashful.

You touched his huge, gorgeous face and he looked up at you again "So, about what we were talking about before… Just try to be a little less… upfront about what you feel for me. I mean… sexually. I love that you want me this much because I want you too, Neteyam. A lot, actually. You're… really freaking hot." He smiled, blissful, and his cat-like eyes sparkled as he heard that, his ears perking up. "But you're a bit too much, at times. If you could just tone it down a bit…" Neteyam looked a little ashamed and insecure, so, you rubbed your thumb on his soft skin, to reassure him you still longed for him too "At least while I get used to your na'vi nature, it would be great. Please, try to understand me… It's a whole new world I'm just now discovering. But it doesn't mean I don't love you and don't want you and it doesn't mean you should feel insecure." You smiled gently, showing no teeth. 

Neteyam looked a bit sad again after you finished your sentence and you totally understood why. In his na'vi mind, you were practically rejecting him. That was who he truly was, animalistic and a bit too much to your human standards. He must feel like who he is was not enough or good in your eyes.

"Hey" You cupped his face again "I wanna do something. Just let me take this mask off, first." You wanted to reassure Neteyam of your feelings for him by giving him a kiss.

"Yawne, no! You can't breathe without it. You could die really fast! I'm not gonna let you do it."

"So you don't want a kiss, Neteyam Suli? I thought you'd want it, judging by the way you have been stalking me and by our interaction that night, outside my bedroom's window." You teased him and his face lit up

Neteyam gave you an excited smile. The way his full lips curled up as he quickly pondered about the pros and cons of your offer was so beautiful, almost hypnotizing.

God, you really were in love with that na'vi boy, weren't you? There's no going back now. He's holding your heart in his big, weird but cute, alien hands.

"I guess if we make it quick-"

"Shut up, Neteyam." You interrupted, chuckling playfully "I know you're dying to feel my lips on yours. Just help me take this mask off already." It was a bit hard for you to take the mask off while holding onto his shoulders. You knew he would not let you fall but still you wanted to still feel a bit of control and keep holding onto him too.

Neteyam got surprised by your boldness, since he did not see it coming, and he could only think about how freaking amazing it would feel to finally taste your lips, so, he did as you asked - leaving the mask hanging on your neck by the strap it had - and you rapidly held his big pretty, blue face, brought your lips to his and placed the most tender of kisses there, pressing your mouth against his mouth softly but with so much care, trying to let him feel how much you desired him too. His lips were velvety, warm and so incredibly good to kiss. God, you did not care that you were risking dying from lack of oxygen. You wanted that alien boy so badly.

Neteyam's still tense demeanor soon turned into a calmer one as he kissed you back. His hold on you got tighter as he felt your sweet soft lips on his. He felt so incredibly hungry for you. How could he not be? Your kiss was the most delicious thing he had ever felt in his whole life. You both shared saliva and wet each other's lips with each time your lips parted only slightly and came together again. Your soft skin made him want to squeeze you and never let you go again. Neteyam wanted to cuddle with you, wanted to wrap his tail around your small body in a possessive way to let you know you're his and that he would take care of you, hunt food to feed you and protect you from anything that could ever hurt you.

It was getting harder and harder for him not to lay you on the ground and press his body against your tiny one and make love to you right there but he knew that, thinking rationally, that was not a good idea at all, as the both of you were just outside a laboratory full of humans and you two could easily get caught and be in danger.

Even though Neteyam craved your body insanely, now even more than before, as he was finally feeling you close and tasting your lips, he was trying to take it as slow and gentle as he could because he wanted to respect your limits instead of scaring you away again. He understood you were human and your race acted in a very different way when it came to relationships. He still thought it to be a dumb way to lead things but it was you who was asking him to act differently and he loved you with his whole being. He could not bring himself to say "no" to that request. He knew it would be temporary and you soon would give into the na'vi that lives inside of you when it came to mating too. For you, Neteyam could wait. He knew things would soon change for the better. You were now in his arms, as the two of you kissed. You were no longer afraid of him. That was everything he needed at that moment. Things were already so much better.

Neteyam noticed you were having more and more trouble breathing, so he got worried and quickly put your oxygen mask back on.

You gasped for air and breathed in so much oxygen once you had your mask on that it might have been funny to watch, though Neteyam did not laugh. On the contrary, he seemed way too serious, way too worried about your safety. You wanted him to relax a bit.

"See how much I love you? I risked dying just to give you a kiss." You tried to speak normally but what came out of your mouth was a hoarse whisper instead, as your lungs were still in need of more air. A weak smile was adorning your lips as you struggled but still managed to let out a frail chuckle

"Don't say that, oeyä tawtute, please." Neteyam told you, trying to stay serious but still letting out a chuckle as well

"See the sacrifices I make for you, Neteyam?" You tried to seem mad at him at the beginning, only to start laughing shortly after, now that you finally had enough oxygen in your system to be able to let out an actual laugh, even if it still sounded weaker than your laughing would sound in another situation

He smiled big and teased you "Skxawng." (moron)

"But you love me." You closed your eyes while smiling, full of yourself

"I do." You opened your eyes to look at his face "More than you think, yawntu."

Your heartbeat accelerated intensely and you blushed. Neteyam found your blushed cheeks adorable. He looked at you so intensely, like he was holding the most precious thing in the world in his arms.

Neteyam knew he had just fallen even harder for you now that you both had kissed. He could not wait until he could be alone with you in a safe place and get to explore your body with his hands and kiss you all over. He almost got hard just thinking about that but he tried his hardest to whoosh that away. Neteyam was scared that feeling his bulge would be too much for you at that moment, specially since he knew he was much bigger than the human males you were used to. You might feel uncomfortable because of that difference and the sudden intimate feeling of his hard big cock against you and want to get out of his arms. Neteyam did not want that to happen. He needed you there a bit more, he was not ready to let you stand on your feet yet. And he was so afraid of you not wanting him close anymore, he was so afraid of perhaps ruining what you both had now. It was far too special for him. He could not let his sexual instincts ruin that. The time would come when you would let him in completely, when you would grant him permission to be inside of you and show you how much he craved your pussy, how much you messed with his head and awakened his most intense desires. Until then, he would wait and take baby steps. For you, he was capable of waiting for ages, though he hoped so strongly it would not take long.

༊⁀➷

Taglist:

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@xylianasblog

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[panandinpain0]

Yo so like, r u ok writing for Peter Parker?? If so, could you write a Peter x Male Reader where the reader is both a charmer and peter’s ultimate hype man (sorry Ned). Around prom season, Peter asks the reader for help to ask his crush to the prom, and the reader is sadge bc he thinks it’s MJ. Slight chaos and maybe some nervous gay boy stuff ensues??

Roses

Yes, I'd love to write for Peter Parker! (And because you brought up Ned I'm assuming it's Tom Holland's Peter.)

Also, I'm in love with this prompt <3

@@@

Requested by: Anon

Peter Parker x Male!Reader

---

Peter was at his locker, talking to Ned about his Lego death star, when (Y/N) approached his locker. Peter closed it and raised his eyebrows at (Y/N), while Ned jumped in shock (neither had seen him approach but Peter's spidey-senses- or should I say "Peter-Tingles"- came in handy).

"Are you guys planning a Star Wars marathon without me?" (Y/N)'s jaw dropped with a betrayed look on his face, hand to his heart. "What happened to the brotherhood?"

Ned snorted and Peter laughed, turning to walk down the hallway.

"We were gonna' invite you anyways, (Y/N), we always do," Ned reassured, giving in to his teasing.

"Good. So, whaddya' say, Pete? Star Wars at your house this Friday?" (Y/N) asked, putting his hand on Peter's shoulder and smiling at him as they walked.

Clearing his throat quietly, Peter nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like a plan."

"It's a good thing too, because I need help studying for this chem test coming up, and I was wondering if you'd help me?" (Y/N) asked him, hand still on his shoulder.

In truth, (Y/N) was barely getting by in chemistry for a reason. It's not that he wasn't smart enough or that he wasn't putting in the work- it was that he was sat next to Peter and couldn't stop looking at him. Trying to goof off with him in class was one of (Y/N)'s favorite pastimes, and what got them in trouble the most.

This gave him an excuse to beg Peter desperately for help with his homework, therefore getting to spend more time with him. It was a solid plan in his mind.

"For sure! Studying and then Star Wars, sounds like the perfect Friday," Peter said back, always too nice (or too love-struck) to say no to (Y/N).

Ned looked between them, realizing they were doing the smiling-at-each-other-for-too-long thing, and coughed to get their attention.

(Y/N) and Peter both looked over at him and Ned smiled, "So, got any dates to prom yet?" It was meant to be a joke, the three of them in the "nerd" clique, even though realistically they were all very attractive and much more than just nerds. (Considering one of them was the web-slinging super hero, they were much more than just smart.)

"Nope," (Y/N) and Peter said in unison, laughing together.

"What about you, Ned?" (Y/N) asked back, and Ned shook his head like it was a joke he was even asking.

"Who'd wanna go out with me?" Ned asked a bit glumly, thinking he was the unattractive one in their friend group.

"Well, I have an idea." (Y/N) winked at him and pointed down the hallway. A girl named Darla, who they'd gone to school with since elementary, noticed she'd been caught staring and blushed, turning back to her locker quickly.

Ned stuttered for a minute, his face heating up. "No, she must've been looking at one of you-"

"Dude, she's been in love with you since the eighth grade!" (Y/N) insisted, moving between Peter and Ned and throwing his arm over Ned's shoulder. "I bet you twenty bucks that if you ask her out she'll say yes."

Shaking his head in doubt, Ned stuttered again, before giving up.

"She'll probably be asked out by the captain of the football team or something- that's always what happens with the cheerleaders."

"Oh, come on buddy. You've got a chance, you're the only one that doesn't see it," Peter insisted.

"She knows me because I help her with her calculus homework..."

"Just try. If not, what's the worse that can happen?" (Y/N) asked nonchalantly.

"I'll get humiliated."

"Or she could say yes," Peter countered.

"Fine, I'll do it if you guys leave me alone about it."

"That's all I ask." (Y/N) held his hands up in surrender. Then he turned to Peter and they fist bumped.

Once they got outside Ned split off, going his own way home while (Y/N) pulled out his skateboard. Happy waved from the limousine at Peter, letting him know that he was here to take him to Tony.

(Y/N) let out a low whistle, looking at the limo. "Nice ride, Parker. Perks from the internship?"

"Uh, yeah. Yeah, Mr. Stark sends Happy to pick me up when its more urgent." Technically it wasn't a full lie, he'd usually only get picked up by Happy if it involved emergencies.

"Well, drive safe. Text me if you need anything, or just if you're bored." (Y/N) pulled Peter into a hug, patting his back and putting down his skateboard.

"See you tomorrow!" Peter patting him back before watching him skate off, looking back to Happy. As he approached the door opened, and his jaw dropped as he saw Tony.

"Was that your boyfriend?" he teased, glasses at the end of his nose.

"Oh! Mr. Stark, I didn't know-"

"Hop in kid, we've got places to be."

...

Knocking on the Parker's apartment door, (Y/N) played with the colorful box in his hands.

May opened it, smiling when she saw who it was.

"(Y/N)! It's such a pleasure to have you, Ned and Peter are in Peter's room." May pulled him into a hug and (Y/N) returned it, smiling at the comfort he got every time he was welcomed into their home.

"Thanks, May. Here, my mom made you those cupcakes you like." He held out the box and May gasped, her smile getting brighter.

"Oh, that woman..." she shook her head in amusement. "Tell her thanks! Now I've got to make her that pasta she likes so much."

(Y/N) laughed and patted May's shoulder before making his way to Peter's room.

"Happy Friday boys!" (Y/N) announced as he walked into his room.

"You said that this morning," Ned commented laughing as (Y/N) slung his backpack to the floor.

"No, this morning I said 'It's Friday'. This time it's happy," (Y/N) corrected with a smirk, sitting down on the floor with Peter and Ned.

"Don't forget, it's not just Star Wars it's also studying," Peter reminded with a laugh, pulling his books out of his backpack.

(Y/N) let out a dramatic groan, clearly joking, because he didn't mind what he did as long as he got to hang out with his friends (especially Peter).

About half an hour into studying, Ned left to use the bathroom and Peter and (Y/N) started talking.

"You've asked people out before, right (Y/N)?"

"Yeah, why? You got someone in mind?" MJ was (Y/N)'s first guess. (Y/N) had seen how he looked at MJ and wished it was him instead.

Peter, on the other hand, was only thinking of (Y/N). He was extremely handsome and charming, always jokingly flirting with Peter- but no matter how smart he was, he was oblivious to Peter's obvious attraction to him.

"Uh, yeah, I do. I was wondering if you could help me ask them out to prom? Just like, give me tips or something on how to impress them..." Peter nervously chuckled as he trailed off, scratching the back of his head.

"Oh, sure! But I'm not sure there's much I can say to help. You're a really great guy Peter, and anybody would be lucky to have you. I know everyone says this, but just be yourself and depending on the reaction you get it'll tell you if they're the right person for you or not." (Y/N) shrugged, not really sure what else to say.

Peter nodded, trying to figure out how to impress (Y/N). "Should I get them flowers? Or make one of those 'promposal' signs?"

"I always thought those signs were kind of tacky, but if you think they'll like it then I think you should go for it. And I think the flowers are a nice idea..." (Y/N) tried to give him a smile, but he didn't think it looked very confident. It hurt, not knowing if he liked (Y/N) back- but it hurt worse knowing he liked someone else.

"Okay. Okay, I'll bring them flowers. What kind do you think I should get?"

Just then, Ned walked back into the room, stopping hesitantly in the doorway as if he'd interrupted something.

"Hey, Ned," (Y/N) greeted, smiling at him.

"What's up?" Ned asked, still not sure if he should sit back down or not. He considered making an excuse about asking May for snacks or something, but they weren't giving him any clear signs that he wasn't welcome in the conversation.

"Just talking about asking people to prom," Peter responded with a shrug, going back to his homework.

"Peter was wondering what flowers he should get for his crush," (Y/N) gained back some confidence with the joke, nudging Peter playfully.

"Oh?" Ned asked, eyebrows up as he retook his seat on the ground, looking between the two. He noticed their behavior and realized it was going to be weird for a while- and that he couldn't say anything. He held back a sigh at that thought.

"Yeah, what kind do you think I should get them, Ned?" Peter asked as (Y/N) started twirling his pen in his hand.

"Who're they for? Everyone has favorite flowers, right?" Ned thought aloud, looking through his notes.

"I say roses. Everybody likes roses," (Y/N) concluded, nodding as he talked.

The boys went back to studying (and eventually Star Wars).

...

Monday morning's were always rough, and prom was that Saturday so everybody was buzzing (much to (Y/N)'s annoyance).

Closing his locker with a yawn he turned to walk to his first class, chemistry with Peter, just to be jump scared by said boy.

"Woah! Peter, hey. Gave me a heart attack," (Y/N) mumbled as he clutched his chest, his breathing ragged.

"Sorry! Didn't mean to..." Peter looked sheepish as he gulped down his nerves.

"Are you okay? You look really... sweaty." That's when (Y/N) noticed the roses in his hand and his mood dropped. "Oh, you must be nervous to ask out your crush, huh?"

Peter nodded, taking in a deep breath.

"Yeah. I just hope he says yes." And he held out the flowers with a almost scared looking smile.

"(Y/N), will you go to prom with me?"

His jaw hit the floor, eyes wide with confusion and shock. He never thought in a million years Peter would ask him out, much less over MJ, who was watching from her locker next to his with a smirk.

Truth is, Peter knew that MJ and (Y/N) shared an art class and were friends, so he asked her for advice. That's what led to the awkward study conversation, and the roses in front of (Y/N)'s face.

"Wait- what? Really?" (Y/N) asked, searching Peter's face for any hints of a prank or deception. "You're shitting me, right Parker?"

Peter just shook his head, heart racing a mile a minute.

"You said roses, so I got you roses. I'm sure if you knew I was meaning you you'd have said another kind of flower but I couldn't figure out how to ask you what your favorite flower was without giving myself away-" Peter rambled, fumbling with the paper around the bouquet of roses.

(Y/N) put his hand on Peter's fumbling one and smiled at him, "I'd love to go to prom with you, Peter. I love the roses- and I'm so glad you didn't make one of those stupid poster boards."

The boys broke into somewhat relieved laughter and Peter pulled him into a hug.

That's when they remembered that they were in the middle of a highschool hallway. Everybody was staring at them, and both of their faces were shades warmer than before.

Ned, always the loyal friend, stepped in.

"Darla!" he all but shouted through the hallway, everybody's attention going to him. He was holding a singular tulip in his hand and was sweating bullets. "Will you go to prom with me?"

Some kids started laughing, but they turned into gasps as Darla nearly squealed as she nodded her head, her curls bouncing with her movement.

"Yes, Ned! I'd love to!" She hugged him, while he just stood there in absolute astonishment. His original plan was to pull attention away from his best friends by being humiliated, not by pulling the most beautiful and talented girl in the school.

(Y/N) started clapping and hollering, Peter soon joining him.

Then the bell rang, and everybody started going to their classes.

...

"I still can't believe that happened," Ned whispered from Peter's carpeted floor, staring up at the ceiling in amazement.

Peter and (Y/N) sat on his bed, putting together the Lego death star shoulder to shoulder. They'd steal looks at each other every once in a while, blushing at their newfound romance.

When they watched a movie with May later that night they held hands and shared a blanket, and all May did was smile at them when she noticed.

---

Yippee!!!

Not as chaotic as I'm sure you were hoping, but I thoroughly enjoyed writing this.

Thank you anon! I hope you liked it.

-Author Max <3

[dododrawsstuff]

Pairing: Chevalier/ Melinda (OC)

Word count: 1800 ish, idk remember the exact number

CW: it's pegging, basically PWP (with feelings)

The writing is bad, I'm not a writer, you have been warned 🫵 and I did not revise it, bc I can't read what I write without cringing

MDNI

The day couldn't pass any slower, Melinda thinks to herself. She feels almost impatient after exiting the foreign affairs room, where Chevalier must still be busy writing on documents. She wanted to give him some of the sweets she had baked earlier (with the guidance of Yves, they turned way better than her previous attempts) “I hope they are to your liking” she finally speaks after he kept looking at her without touching any of the sweets placed in front of him, she almost felt her heart drop at the thought he hated them so much he wouldn't even taste one, but as she observed him, she understood the meaning behind his gaze, he wanted her to feed him the sweets.

“You could've asked” she mumbled as she picked one from the pile and brought it to his lips. She watched as he finished the entire thing and her chest flooded with a warm feeling, gosh, he looked so cute, and it was praise enough to her baking skills that he finished the entire sweet.

Their tender moment was interrupted as a soldier entered the room to report something Melinda didn't really paid attention. But just as she was turning to leave and let him work, her eyes widened when they caught a glimpse of his neck that he exposed to her by pulling the high collar of his shirt slightly down, exposing the gold choker he was wearing. She covered her cheeks with her hands to hide blush and bolted out of the office.

Just remembering that scene that happened earlier make her heart almost jump out of her chest. Melinda knows what it means, of course she knows, they agreed on that code after the first time she pegged him. If Chevalier was in the mood to be topped by her, he would wear the gold choker she picked for him. Of course she could refuse when she wasn't in the mood, but how could she refuse him in any way? Especially when it was a rare chance of seeing him expose a more vulnerable side to her, the expressions he made, reserved for that moment, only for her eyes to see, the way he hugged her as if he never wanted to let her go, the way his cock twitched slightly when- Melinda cuts herself off before she becomes overwhelmed, she can already feel the hotness on her cheeks.

The rest of the day passed both in a blur and in slow motion, and finally, the evening came and she knocks on the door to his room. She enters after hearing hearing an affirmative and feels the gush of hot air on her face as it tries to leave the room, the scent of roses so characteristic of him fills her nostrils, a scent that she has come to love and represent security to her. Now it also filled her with desire, desire for him, his warmth, his firm embrace, the lovely expressions meant only for her.

Chevalier appears out of the bathroom door with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his skin glistening with some water droplets he didn't bother to dry in his rush to be done, so uncharacteristic of him. “He looks beautiful, but again, when does Chevalier doesn't look beautiful?” Mel thinks to herself.

Only then Melinda notices the golden accessory on his neck, how she didn't see it before baffles her, but she doesn't pay much mind to it. Without thinking, her body takes her closer to Chevalier, until they're so close she can feel the heat radiating from his body and his scent is the only thing she can smell.

“Did you have a tough day?” As she makes the question, her hand cup his cheek, which he promptly nuzzles slightly, her eyes soften and she feels butterflies in her stomach. “Do I have to have a reason to desire my beautiful partner?” He teases her, making her blush.

“N-no no, not really… it's just…” she stumbles over her words, unable to properly convey what she means, but he knows, Chevalier always knows, so he only chuckles and kisses her lips gently as if telling Melinda he understands what she wanted to say.

Mel promptly responds to the kiss and deepens it, invading Chevalier’s mouth with her tongue. She feels slightly proud when he groans in a low voice. She can already feel his hard on pressed on her lower belly through her dress and his towel, feeling a little brave, Melinda grabs his ass and is rewarded with another groan. They stumble to the bed in the middle of the room, still kissing, and Chevalier lays down with his legs parted so he could accommodate Mel between them, the knot of the towel that was hugging his waist undone by their movements, exposing his erection to the cold air of the night. Beautiful, with a bit of pre cum leaking from the pink tip, she almost wants to change plans just so she could feel his length fill her up.

“We can do that if you want” He brings her back from her thoughts, seemingly reading her mind, as he always did. “No, today is all about you” she smiles at him and pecks his lips “I won't let you lift a single finger” she whispers in his ear and makes a trail of kisses from his ear to his collarbone. He only huffs in response, a smirk present in his face. She knows Chev’s enjoying it by the way his breathing is just a tiny bit more irregular than normal, the way his cock twitches when she suck a little harder on his neck and most of all, the heat in his eyes as he looks at her.

“You can mark me all you want” even when he’s the bottom he still manages to tease her relentlessly, this time by tilting his head to give Melinda more access to his neck while smirking at her, almost as a challenge that she responded by intensifying her attention to that area. Gosh, Chevalier would never say it out loud, but he loved when Melinda felt confident enough to act like this.

After a while of marking his neck with kisses and even some bites, she grabs a little vial, on the drawer of the nightstand, with a viscous substance that resembles modern lube and pours a generous amount on her fingers, the substance felt cool in contrast to her feverish body. When she brings her index finger to Chevalier's entrance, it twitches slightly due to the coldness of the lube, she circles her fingers around the ring of muscles, almost massaging it. She can see the way his cock leaks, a small puddle of pre cum forming on his belly, and Melinda stares at him, face slightly flushed, hair disheveled, his eyes burning with heat, she can tell he wants her to enter him already, but she’s too busy trying to burn that image into her memory.

After what feels an eternity to Chevalier, she finally inserts a finger in his hole, his eyes close and a satisfied sigh escape his lips. Once Melinda makes sure he is comfortable she starts to move her fingers, searching for a specific spot. She knows she have found it when Chevalier's face contorts into a frown, his hands gripping the sheets and his legs parting a bit more. Then she keeps focused in trying to find that place with as much precision as she can manage.

She inserts another finger and then another, still focused in pleasuring him as much as possible, his reactions -subtle if it was someone else there observing them, but major for her, after spending so much time together with him, trying to absorb as much information about him as possible- that she almost misses when he says “it's enough”

“What?” She replies, after realizing he told her something “It’s enough” he repeats “fuck me already” her cheeks feel hot after the direct and shameless word he said, but she moves to grant his wish, she could tease him, she ponders, but not today. He groans when her fingers are removed from him, his hole clenching around nothing as she reaches for the same drawer the vial was stored in to take out a strap on - the dildo significantly smaller than his cock, small enough not to hurt him when they first started but enough to reach all of his good points to the point of his curling his toes and arching his back.

After fumbling in her haste to put on the strap, she pours a generous amount of lube on the dildo and lines it with his entrance, then she enters him slowly, agonizingly slow in Chevalier’s opinion, which makes him hug her waist with his legs and forces her to be completely inside him in one thrust. A throaty moan leaves him as his back arches.

“Chev! Why did you do that!?? What if I hurt you?” She tries to move to get the strap out of him, but his legs keep her in place “Do you seriously think this would hurt me? I’ve dealt with worse pain” he says nonchalant

“Doesn't mean you're not feeling pain, I- I don't want to hurt you!” She replies frantic, but his chuckle makes her stare at Chevalier dumbfounded “Are you still afraid of that? I told you, you’ll never hurt me” he cups her cheek and kisses her lips, her expression and contracted shoulders relaxing. “Thank you” her voice soft, almost a whisper. After recomposing herself she begins to move, trying to hit his sweet spot in every change she has and succeeding most of the time, judging by the way he’s grabbing the sheets so tightly his knuckles are white and by the low moans escaping him whenever she hits his prostate in a particular way.

Melinda uses her hand to masturbate Chevalier and after that it’s not long until he comes undone, him cum reaching his belly and chest, she continues thrusting into him as he’s climaxing, finally pulling out of him with a wet sound. Then she takes the strap out and leaves it on the floor besides the bed -she could clean it up in the morning- and using the towel on the bed to clean Chev up before climbing in the bed again and laying with her head on his chest, his scent calming to her.

It happens so fast that Melinda doesn't even have the time to process it, but when she notices, her back is pressed on the bed and Chevalier is between her legs, a smirk on his face “Now, I think it's my turn, Meli”

It would still be a long night for them, Melinda though.

[lucky-clover-gazette]

prince's gambit highlights & annotations

chapters 5 & 6

indented text is from the book. some quotes have commentary, some do not. some comments are serious, and some are definitely not. most of them will only make sense to people who have read the series. and, like, there are spoilers. so please read the books first if you're interested!

also: part of the reason i'm doing such a close reading is to study cs pacat's style, especially in terms of how she does romance and erotica. there are "craft notes" that might seem weird, like i'm being redundant or restating something rather than analyzing, but those are more things that i want to remember/take away from the writing!

i'm going to tag these longer posts with "sam reads capri" in case anyone wants to read them all at once.

this is a google doc i wrote with overall content warnings for the captive prince series. it's not perfect, but i do think it's important to include.

Laurent glanced at their surroundings, and said, ‘It’s the wrong terrain for an ambush.’ ‘The town isn’t,’ said Damen. For good measure, he took hold of Laurent’s horse’s bridle. ‘Consider alternatives. Can you entrust the task to someone else?’ ‘No,’ said Laurent. He said it as a calm statement of fact. Damen forced down his frustration, reminded himself that Laurent was in possession of an able mind, and that therefore his, ‘No,’ had a reason behind it other than pure stubbornness. Probably.

i love this entire passage! damen taking control of laurent's horse is great

‘This doesn’t suit me,’ he said, meaning that it didn’t suit him to wear them. ‘No. It doesn’t. You look like one of us,’ said Laurent.

well this definitely helps laurent with his evolving self-delusion and cognitive dissonance. also i like how damen's pov specifies that he is not calling himself unfit for the clothing physically, bc he's hot enough to wear anything, it's more of a figurative unfitness

‘The Prince has business away from the camp,’ said Damen. ‘He plans to return mid-morning. He wants you to captain the men as usual while he’s gone.’ ‘Whatever he needs. How many men is he taking with him?’ ‘One,’ said Damen. ‘Good luck,’ was all Jord said.

jord, immediately assuming that the one man is damen:

Vistas of endless ridiculousness opened up before him.

Laurent was considering the women. He was far from wide-eyed, but there was a certain quality to his gaze. For Laurent, Damen realised, this experience was wholly new and highly illicit. Compounding Damen’s sense of the ridiculous was the sudden acute awareness that he was accompanying the chaste Crown Prince of Vere to his first brothel. From elsewhere in the house, you could hear the sound of fucking.

damen you’ve seen the court of vere, why the fuck do you think laurent would be flustered by this. is it the heterosexuality?

You’re sitting so far away,’ said the blonde. ‘Then get up,’ said Laurent. She got up. The brunette rose too, and made for Laurent. The blonde came to sit beside Damen.

not the blonde going to damen and the brunette going to laurent 😭

‘Unlace his jacket,’ said Laurent. The blonde looked from Damen to Laurent. Damen looked at him too. Laurent had dispensed with his own woman wordlessly, perhaps with a single dismissive flick of his fingers. Elegant and relaxed, he was regarding them without urgency. It was familiar. Damen felt the moment when his pulse kicked in, remembering the love seat in the garden bower, and Laurent’s cool voice giving explicit instructions: suck it, and, tongue the slit. Damen caught the blonde’s wrist. There was not going to be a repeat performance.

“do it yourself coward”

it is interesting, to get some insight re: how damen feels about the garden scene. he seems to regard it as less of a personal violation, and more of an insult or annoyance. it might even be something he’s intentionally avoiding BECAUSE he knows how much laurent’s instruction turns him on.

the use of “performance” is interesting here, too. damen’s reactions in the garden had been real, and he knows they would be real here again. but he seems to assume that to laurent, it’s all just an act. which at this point, i think it pretty much is, although… i’m not quite sure what this specific gesture would have gotten laurent, if damen had allowed it. is it possible that laurent genuinely wanted to do damen a favor by getting him laid? or was he just “yes, and”-ing the situation on damen’s behalf, for fun?

‘The plaster’s old,’ said Damen. ‘Here.’ He took hold of the grille, and gave it a tug. Bits of plaster rained down from the edges of the window, but it wasn’t enough to detach the grille from the frame. He changed his grip, braced his stance and put his shoulder into it. On the third attempt, the whole grille came away from the window. It was surprisingly heavy. He placed it carefully on the floor. The thick carpet muffled any sound, as it had done when he had moved the chest. ‘After you,’ he said to Laurent, who was staring at him. Laurent almost looked as though he was going to speak, but then he just nodded, pulled himself through the window and dropped soundlessly into the alley behind the brothel.

another rare early instance of obvious laurent attraction. i think he is smitten by damen’s irreverent blunt efficiency, as well as the display of raw strength. seeing this, laurent might be thinking to himself, “he could have snapped me in half this whole time, but he hasn’t.” kind of foreshadowing of the “i could have done this...” line in book 3.

anyway, laurent’s attraction here seems to consist of 1) respect for damen’s competence, 2) intrigue regarding his usual restraint, and 3) physical attraction to big hot strong guy. #3 is the one i personally have the most trouble analyzing, and i’d bet laurent would be equally confused by that aspect of his own reaction. but he’s definitely feeling Something here, whether or not he’s able to understand or verbalize it. he can’t even manage to make the expected snarky comment!

‘Here. Take this,’ said Laurent when they were half the town away, tossing Damen his coin purse. ‘It’s better if we’re not recognised. And you should do up the collar on your jacket.’

when exactly do you think laurent came up with the role reversal plan? was it before or after damen ripped a metal grate off a wall with his bare hands?

whatever the case, he’s preparing for it now. damen will just have to play along.

Anyone seeing a young blond man of noble birth is going to guess it’s you.’ ‘I brought a disguise,’ said Laurent. ‘A disguise,’ said Damen.

did he only make this specific disguise plan after damen agreed to come with him? if not, was he just going to pretend to be an unaccompanied pet????

After no more than a brief, dismissive glance at Laurent, the innkeeper gave Damen his full attention, greeting him respectfully. ‘Welcome, my lord. Will you and your pet require lodgings for the evening?’

(the noise i made when i read this for the first time…)

every single uncomfortable, indulgent detail about veretian pets in book 1 justifies itself in this moment.

some disorganized thoughts:

from the moment they left, laurent knew this is where they were heading. and he intentionally did not inform damen of the role he would have to play. there might have been a slight strategic advantage to keep damen in the dark, but i also think laurent just figured it would be funny to make it a surprise. a little treat, to get himself through the horrors.

if laurent was asked to examine WHY this specific arrangement is a fun treat, he’d probably jump out of a window to escape the question. (damen, too, but for different reasons.)

like, there… really is no strategic reason for laurent to be a pet here. he could have disguised himself and damen in plenty of other ways, but laurent chose this specific bit for them both. interesting.

i'd like to think that laurent would eventually unpack this choice. i’m sure there’s plenty of fic exploring the idea of him roleplaying as a pet, relinquishing his authority, and reclaiming his sexual identity in a controlled environment. maybe he and damen can do it on purpose, without the high-stakes mission to justify the act.

craft note: this subversion is incredible, in terms of characterization, plot, romance, and sexual tension. the perfect payoff to nicaise’s earring, the focus on pets in book 1, and laurent’s affinity for “performance.”

as i begin close-reading chapter 6 of prince’s gambit, i remind myself that this is meant to be rational and eloquent literary analysis.

'I want your best room,’ said Laurent, ‘with a big bed and a private bath, and if you send up the house boy, you’ll find out the hard way that I don’t like sharing.’ He delivered the innkeeper a long, cool look. ‘He’s expensive,’ said Damen to the innkeeper, by way of apology.

And then watched as the innkeeper sized up the cost of Laurent’s clothes, and his sapphire earring—a royal gift to a favourite—and the likely cost of Laurent himself, the face, the body. Damen realised that he was about to be charged three times the going rate for everything. He decided with good humour that he didn’t mind being generous with Laurent’s coin.

i’m obsessed with how quickly damen commits to the bit with good humor. i wonder if it surprises laurent, even delights him to have such a willing scene partner

Why don’t you find us a table. Pet.’ Enjoying the moment. And the sobriquet.

“A sobriquet is a descriptive nickname, sometimes assumed, but often given by another. A sobriquet is distinct from a pseudonym in that it is typically a familiar name used in place of a real name without the need for explanation; it may become more familiar than the original name.” (Wiktionary)

damen is enjoying the sobriquiet. he is enjoying calling laurent “pet.”

craft note: i can’t do this. i don’t know. something something, role reversals and subversion. there.

Being the best table, it was occupied. Laurent emptied it with what appeared to be a glance, or a word, or the simple fact of his approach.

okay so what do we think this was. like, he’s not using his prince privileges here. he’s being perceived as essentially a very expensive prostitute. it happens quickly, it couldn’t have been a long con. what did laurent say or do, subtly enough that damen couldn’t make it out, to empty an entire table of people???

The earring was not a discreet disguise. Every man in the common room of the inn was taking the time to have a good look at Laurent. Pet. Laurent’s cool-eyed arrogance proclaimed that no one could touch him. The earring said that one man could. It transformed him from unattainable to exclusive, an elite pleasure no one here could afford.

has anyone ever drawn laurent in the “i am a luxury few can afford” sweater

But that was an illusion. Damen sat down across the table from Laurent on one of the long benches. ‘What now?’ said Damen. ‘Now we wait,’ said Laurent.

previous line “… no one could afford.” there’s a sort of double meaning here, i think, when damen says this is an illusion. what he means, consciously, is that laurent’s entire act is an illusion. but what i can imply, from the following action and dialogue, is that damen IS that one person who can touch laurent—the real laurent, behind the disguise. damen sits with him unceremoniously and speaks to him like an ally, not a pet.

their dynamic drives me fucking insaneeeeeee

Then Laurent rose and made his way around the table, sitting himself beside Damen, close as a lover. ‘What are you doing?’ ‘Verisimilitude,’ said Laurent. The earring winked at him.

nothing sexier than vocab

‘I’m glad I brought you along. I wasn’t expecting to have to tear things out of walls. Do you visit brothels often?’

i ask again: was laurent planning to do the pet thing without damen???

‘Not brothels. Camp followers?’ said Laurent. And then: ‘Slaves.’ And then, after the satisfaction of a pause: ‘Akielos, the garden of delights. So you enjoy slavery in others. Just not in yourself.’

get his ass laurent

Damen shifted on the long bench, and regarded him. ‘Don’t strain yourself,’ said Laurent. ‘You talk more,’ said Damen, ‘when you’re uncomfortable.’

i love this moment so much. damen is not giving laurent the satisfaction of his attempted blindsiding. if he's going to join laurent in this, they are going to commit to the bit as equals. laurent teases damen for his discomfort and damen teases him right back.

between the brothel and this scene, damen is correcting the dynamic he and laurent shared in the court and gardens of arles. it’s not that he refuses to play the game—but now, he insists upon playing with equal advantage.

(also: “you talk more when you’re uncomfortable” is a very true observation, and they both know it! after a few chapters of laurent being a boss ass bitch, it’s good to see him slightly humbled. especially when it’s damen doing the humbling.)

‘We’ll try to entertain ourselves. Who’s that?’ said Laurent.

kid in a candy shop behavior

Laurent was watching Volo with the same expression with which he had regarded the women in the brothel.

it’s like he’s playing the sims. like he took his self-made “laurent ofvere” sim to the club in a cunty outfit and now he’s trying to figure out what kinds of entertaining Situations he can provoke.

‘All right. Give me some coin. I want to play that man at cards.’ Laurent rose, leaning his weight against the table. Damen reached for the purse, then paused. ‘Aren’t you supposed to earn gifts with service?’ Laurent said, ‘Is there something you want?’ His voice was sinuous with promise; his gaze was steady as a cat’s. Damen, who preferred not to be eviscerated, tossed Laurent the purse. Laurent caught it in one hand, and took for himself a handful of copper and silver. He tossed the purse back to Damen as he made his way across the inn floor, seating himself opposite Volo.

I LOVE THEMMMM

Charls trusted the Prince to stand firm in negotiations with the bastard Akielon King more than he trusted the Regent uncle.

charls knows what he’s talking about

The Crown Prince was camped at Nesson this very minute, on his way to the border to stand up to Akielos. He was a young man serious about his responsibilities, Charls said. Damen had to make an effort not to look over at Laurent, gambling, when he said it.

incredible writing. 10/10

Laurent took the drink and picked his way back across the room, where he put it, untouched, in front of Damen. ‘Spoils of someone else’s victory.’

thoughtful <3 like when a cat brings its owner something it’s killed <3

Damen said, ‘If you wanted a drink and an old hat that badly, you could have just bought them from him. Cheaper and quicker.’ ‘It’s the game I like,’ said Laurent.

character-defining quote! laurent takes pleasure and pride in the chaos of improvisation. if everything was made simple for him, he wouldn’t be having any fun.

laurent has spent the last seven years of his life starved for enrichment in his enclosure. but he’s not in arles anymore—still a captive prince figuratively, but he’s finally having some fun >:)

He reached over and appropriated another coin out of the purse Damen carried, then palmed it. ‘Look, I’ve learned a new trick.’ When he opened his hand, it was empty, as if by magic. A second later, the coin dropped out of his sleeve onto the floor. Laurent frowned at it. ‘Well, I don’t have it quite yet.’ ‘If the trick is making coins disappear, I think you do have it, actually.’

they’d have this interaction in literally any au. modern, role reversal, whatever. just a cringefail theater nerd and his affectionately teasing prep-jock boyfriend.

(yes, damen is a prep. i’m sorry. look inside your heart and you’ll know it to be true.)

‘What’s the food like?’ said Laurent, his eyes on the table. Damen tore off a piece of bread, and held it like a treat to a house cat. ‘Try it.’ Laurent looked at the bread, and then he looked at the men by the fire, and then he looked at Damen, a long, cool look that would have been difficult to hold if Damen had not had, by now, a great deal of practice. And then he said, ‘All right.’ It took a moment for those words to penetrate. By the time they did, Laurent had settled next to him on the long bench. Laurent straddled it, facing Damen. Laurent was really going to do it. Pets in Vere made a teasing production out of this, flirting and making love to their masters’ hands. Laurent, when Damen brought the mouthful of bread to his lips, did none of those things. He maintained an essential fastidiousness. There was almost nothing of pet and master about it at all, except that Damen felt, just for an instant, the warmth of Laurent’s breath against his fingertips. Verisimilitude, thought Damen.

Laurent ate the bread. It was like feeding a predator, the same feeling. Laurent was so close that it would be easy to wrap a hand around the back of his neck and draw him closer. He remembered the feel of Laurent’s hair, his skin, and fought the urge to press against Laurent’s lips with the pads of his fingers. It was the earring. Laurent was always so austere. The earring reframed him. It gave the appearance of a sensual side, sophisticated and subtle. But that side didn’t exist. The glint of sapphires was dangerous. As Nicaise had been dangerous. Nothing in Vere was as it seemed. Another piece of bread. Laurent’s lips brushed against his fingertips. It was brief and soft. This wasn’t what he’d intended when he picked up the bread. He had some sense that his plans had been overturned, that Laurent knew exactly what he was doing. The touch resembled the first brush of lips in the kind of sensual kiss that begins as a series of smaller kisses, and then, slowly, deepens. Damen felt his breathing change.

He reminded himself forcefully of who this was. Laurent, his captor. He made himself recall the fall of each lash on his back, but thanks to some misfiring of the brain, found himself instead in the memory of Laurent’s wet skin in the baths, the way his limbs fitted together like a hilt fitted to the blade of a balanced sword. Laurent finished the morsel, then rested a hand on Damen’s thigh, and slowly slid it upward. ‘Control yourself,’ said Laurent. And shifted in, until, facing one another on the straddled bench, they were almost chest to chest. Laurent’s hair tickled against Damen’s cheek as he brought his lips to Damen’s ear. ‘You and I are almost the last ones here,’ Laurent murmured. ‘And so?’ The next murmur slid softly into Damen’s ear, so that he felt the shape of each word, made of lips and breath. ‘And so, take me upstairs,’ said Laurent. ‘Don’t you think we’ve waited long enough?’

craft… note…

i said i was going to analyze scenes like this in order to understand how they work and improve my own writing. like laurent, i take pride in committing to the bit.

overall, the eroticism here is in the improv. i’m sorry, but it’s true. "yes, and” is basically dirty talk in lamen. the long pauses, the mutual unspoken challenge, the suggestive performance… it all builds tension towards something exciting and unknown. damen and laurent’s connection, in this scene and the majority of the book, is like a string that they’re both pulling taut—and neither of them has any idea what will happen when it finally snaps.

i think it’s helpful to compare this moment with the garden scene from book 1. that erotic interaction was instructive and detached—laurent was completely in control, and ancel was there, doing something, probably. but here, damen and laurent are both actively and exclusively partaking, and encouraging each other to take it just a little bit further. they are close in a way they’ve never been before, figuratively and literally. they are exploring the space of the unfamiliar scene with good humor, mutual investment, and (from damen at least) unsubtle attraction.

if they weren’t so attracted to each other, it could truly just be an act. a performance. something they can put on to accomplish their mission, but drop as soon as it’s done. but here, i think, is when it becomes clear to damen that he and laurent can’t DO that. this territory is both unpredictable and too close for comfort, whether they’re approaching it ironically or earnestly. there’s no way for them to perform eroticism and remain instructive and detached. they are playing with fire.

damen realizes, when he feels laurent’s breath against his fingertips, that he can’t be normal about this. and he continues to think that, as i recall, for the remainder of the series.

laurent, meanwhile, will take much longer to have a similar realization, because that would mean inescapable attachment—something damen has never feared, but laurent fears more than anything else. like… emotional captivity, almost. (am i suggesting that attachment is emotional captivity? i think i am. hm, okay. anyway.)

with the way that this scene is written, we can see that things between damen and laurent are real. they’ve always been real, and they will continue to be real. the eroticism is in the improv, and we want them to continue “yes,and”-ing each other into a satisfying resolution. but, of course, the story is going to make us wait. and that just makes this scene even hotter.

from my breakdown of the book 1 garden scene:

i think what i like here, is that… yeah, it’s horny. it’s indulgent, easily the most blatant instance of kink we’ve seen so far. but it’s not really what i think frequent readers of this kink genre would expect, or even want to read—it is a subversion, with laurent completely disrupting the basic scenario that everyone else (but damen) in the scene wants to mindlessly enjoy.

how can i replicate this? set up a thing that follows expectations. don’t actually do the thing. do something significantly more insane than the expected thing. do not elaborate on the insane thing, leaving more questions than answers, and move on as if it wasn’t insane at all.

set up a thing that follows expectations = damen is playing master and laurent is playing pet. i think most people would expect damen’s archetype to exercise power over laurent’s archetype in that sort of situation, especially since he’s been denied the opportunity to assert his dominance in previous circumstances. i don’t know a lot about common dynamics in this specific kink space, but i do kind of assume that people would want to see laurent submit, both because of his characterization and physical appearance. and this would be an ideal place to indulge that expectation, characterization and plot be damned, since it can be called an act and stripped of actual consequences.

don’t actually do the thing = pacat doesn’t give an inch of her characterization to provide easy fanservice. the scene is erotic simply by suggestion, and laurent is almost entirely in charge—the instigator and the star of the show. damen, meanwhile, is physically passive and deeply confused by his own feelings and reactions. this is all consistent with their characterization in non-erotic scenes so far. they are acting here, but not as a “normal” master and pet. i don’t think they could be normal, even if they tried.

do something significantly more insane than the expected thing = check. see analysis above.

do not elaborate on the insane thing, leaving more questions than answers, and move on as if it wasn’t insane at all = check. yaoi break’s over, back to the secret mission.

The lobe of Laurent’s ear was pierced through with the ornament of his uncle’s child-lover. It suited him, in the mundane sense that it matched his colouring.

this happens during the bread scene, but i wanted it quarantined. way to harsh the vibe, damen

And there was a man of about thirty with a dark, closely trimmed beard sitting on the bed, who propelled himself off it and onto one knee when he saw Laurent. Damen sat down rather heavily on the chair by the door.

laurent launching into a clandestine business meeting while damen is still trying desperately to fight off the horny. lmao

The man drew a piece of sealed parchment from inside his jacket. Laurent took it, broke the seal, and read the contents. He read it slowly. From the glimpse Damen caught, it looked like it was written in a cipher. When he was done, he dropped the parchment into the fire, where it curled up and blacked over.

context: fuck, i don’t remember what this is. i don’t know. it doesn’t matter. like damen, i'm still thinking about the bread scene

‘I’m the type who takes a great deal of pleasure in small victories,’ Laurent said.

Laurent unpinned the earring. ‘I think we’ll be safe on the road in the morning. The men who followed us seemed more interested in finding him than harming me. They didn’t attack us when they had the chance tonight.’ And then, ‘Does that door lead to the bath?’ And then, halfway to the door, ‘Don’t worry, your services aren’t required.’

laurent drops the act so quickly. at a loss for any logical conclusion about what the fuck just happened, i think damen just decides to pretend he’s equally unaffected

i do wonder how laurent acted as soon as he shut the door and got some priavcy, though. hm.

When he was gone, Damen wordlessly picked up an armful of bedding and dumped it on the floor by the hearth. Then there was nothing to do. He went downstairs. The only patrons now remaining were Volo and the house boy, who weren’t paying any attention to anyone else. The house boy’s sand-coloured hair was a tousled mess. He went all the way outside the inn and stood for a moment; the cool night air was calming. The street was empty. The messenger was gone. It was very late. It was peaceful here. He couldn’t stay out here all night. Recalling that Laurent had eaten nothing but a few fraught mouthfuls of bread, he stopped by the kitchens on his way back upstairs and requisitioned a plate of bread and meats. When he went back into the room, Laurent had emerged from the bath and was half clothed and sitting drying his damp hair by the fire, taking up the majority of the space on Damen’s impromptu bed. ‘Here,’ said Damen, and passed him the plate.

okay, so here’s my read of this entire sequence: damen tries to get some space from his own recently-realized attraction to laurent. he remarks that it is peaceful outside, where he manages to get himself that space. and THEN he immediately tells himself to go back inside, because he can’t stay out there all night—can’t leave laurent alone for too long. he picks up food specifically for laurent on his way back up, sets things up nicely for them both, and greets him as if he never even left at all.

this is a parallel, i think, to the scene where damen abandons laurent in book 1. i just want to get that easy part of the analysis out of the way.

what i really find interesting here, is that it’s almost like… damen’s decision to accept his own attachment to laurent. he accepted his attraction to laurent during the bread scene, but attraction is a passive response. attachment is an active choice.

if attachment is emotional captivity, then this interlude is damen admitting to himself that he doesn’t want to be free. he knows what his heart wants—and unlike laurent, damen isn’t afraid to trust others with his heart. he doesn’t yet believe that laurent would treat his heart gently, which is exactly why he doesn’t give it to him. but privately, i think this is when damen finally admits to himself that his feelings are not only real, but also worth pursuing.

so he “yes, and”s the feeling, goes back inside, and fully commits to the bit, making sure that laurent is well-fed and cared for. if he’s going to do this, he might as well do it right.

‘Thank you,’ said Laurent, looking at the plate with a blink. ‘The bath is free. If you like.’

laurent’s little blink is very cute. and then he tells damen to go take a bath, so he (laurent) can privately process whatever the hell this is all supposed to mean

He told himself that this was no different from two dozen nights together inside of a warfield tent.

… but he knew that he was totally lyinggggggg

When he returned, Laurent had carefully eaten half of everything on the plate, and had placed it on the chest where Damen could get at it if he wanted it. Damen, who had eaten his fill downstairs and who didn’t think Laurent should be able to take over his bed when he had left untouched the vast comfort of his own, ignored the plate and came to stake his claim beside Laurent, on the blankets by the hearth.

head in my fucking hands. i love them so much. no thoughts, just domestic comfort. and they were roommates.

‘I thought that Volo was your contact,’ said Damen. ‘I just wanted to play him at cards,’ said Laurent.

great exchange. damen assumes that laurent does everything for a strategic reason. laurent just wanted to have fun. they’re breaking down their preconceived notions of each other, finally.

After a moment, Laurent said, ‘I don’t think I would have arrived here without your help, at least not without being followed. I am glad you came. I meant that. You were right. I’m not used to . . .’ He broke off.

from chapter 5: “You’re too used to doing everything on your own.” :’)

‘You’re in a strange mood,’ said Damen. ‘Stranger than usual.’ ‘I’d say I’m in a good mood.’ ‘A good mood.’ ‘Well, not as good a mood as Volo,’ said Laurent. ‘But the food’s decent, the fire’s warm, and no one’s tried to kill me in the last three hours. Why not?’

‘I’ve seen your court,’ Damen reminded him gently. ‘You’ve seen my uncle’s court,’ said Laurent.

excellent response for both damen and the reader to chew on

Would yours be any different? He didn’t say it. Maybe he didn’t need to know the answer. The king that Laurent would be, he was becoming with every passing day, but the future was another life. Laurent would not then be leaning back on his hands, lazily drying his hair before an inn-room fire, or climbing in and out of brothel windows. Nor would Damen.

a kingdom or this?

so far, damen has been able to tell himself that helping laurent is a way for him to help akielos—that he will leave laurent, as soon as he feels that his country is safe.

it’s going to get harder and harder for him to believe that, though, from now on. he did not just go back inside for akielos. if he had, he wouldn’t have stopped to find laurent a meal.

the lives in damen and laurent’s futures are just as real as their ruse downstairs. as in, only as real as they choose for them to be. so far, they’ve both assumed their own eventual choices, and each other’s, to be very set in stone. after this outing, i think damen at least begins to reconsider.

‘What really happened to make Kastor send you here? I know it was not a lover’s quarrel,’ said Laurent.

context reminder: he is asking this, fully knowing that damen is damianos. this definitely threatens his own cognitive dissonance. but he still asks, because he is vulnerable and relaxed.

I don’t know what I did to make him hate me as much as this. Why we couldn’t go as brothers to mourn— —our father—

i love damen as a character so much. beneath his determination to conflate niceness with goodness, is the crushing despair of knowing deep down that he can't trust people to treat him in the honorable way he treats them. he’s not angry or spiteful about this, even though he has every reason to be—just confused, and sad, and betrayed.

a younger laurent must have felt this way after his brother’s death and during his uncle’s abuse. but then came anger and spite, because he had no one to trust.

these characters were literally made for each other, like on a construction/craft level, and you can tell. it is really, really well-done.

‘My honourable barbarian. I wouldn’t have picked that as your type.’ ‘Type?’ ‘A pretty face, a devious mind and a ruthless nature.’

i love the mild anachronism of “type” here. also, lol. a rare moment of laurent not realizing his own dramatic irony, because there’s no way in hell he thinks at this point that damen genuinely likes him. also, i’m not sure if laurent sees himself as ruthless at all. he is pragmatic, but i don’t think he considers himself merciless or cruel.

‘Perhaps I . . . I knew she was ruled by her mind, not her heart. I knew she was ambitious, and, yes, at times ruthless. I admit there was something . . . attractive about it. But I never guessed that she would betray me for Kastor. That I learned too late.’ ‘Auguste was like you,’ said Laurent. ‘He had no instinct for deception; it meant he couldn’t recognise it in other people.’

i love it when my previous analysis is further reinforced by the text

And what about you?’ said Damen, after a difficult breath. ‘I have a highly developed instinct for deception.’ ‘No, I meant—’ ‘I know what you meant.’

when he’s relaxed, laurent talks like a total nerd. awkward attempts at irony, defensive self-awareness, and an obvious desire to be the most clever person in the room.

Now, after a night of earrings and brothels, he thought: Why not ask him about it? Laurent didn’t look uncomfortable.

the fact that damen has not only noticed laurent’s discomfort with the topic of sex, but is also considerate and thoughtful about it, makes my heart ache

‘I wondered,’ Damen said, carefully, ‘if you reserved your love for women.’ ‘No, I—’ Laurent sounded surprised. Then he seemed to realise that his surprise gave something fundamental away, and he looked away with a muttered breath; when he looked back at Damen there was a wry smile on his lips, but he said, steadily, ‘No.’

i’m guessing laurent’s thought process went something like this:

me, straight? lmfao i’ve had sex with a man

but that man was [redacted]. shit.

but damen doesn’t know about [redacted], so why does he assume i’m straight?

oh, i’ve got it. in my culture heterosexuality is taboo with the nobility, so damen would assume that i’m secretly straight and hiding it. dumbass. (smiles, because now he gets to call damen a dumbass)

‘It’s not my fault that no one in your country can think in a straight line,’ said Damen, frowning a touch defensively.

not the veretian homonormativity 😭

‘That isn’t why. She would have chosen him even if you’d had royal blood in your veins, even if you’d had the same blood as Kastor. You don’t understand the way a mind like that thinks. I do. If I were Jokaste and a king maker, I’d have chosen Kastor over you too.’

i’m pretty sure laurent means this as both a comfort and compliment. it also helps to reinforce his own cognitive dissonance between damen and damianos.

‘Because a king maker would always choose the weaker man. The weaker the man, the easier he is to control.’ Damen felt the shock of surprise, and looked at Laurent only to find Laurent gazing back at him without rancour. The moment stretched out. It wasn’t . . . it wasn’t what he had expected Laurent to say. As he gazed at Laurent, the words moved through him in unexpected ways, and he felt them touch something jagged-edged within him, felt them shift it a first, tiny fraction, something lodged hard and deep, that he had thought immovable. He said: ‘What makes you think Kastor is the weaker man? You don’t know him.’ ‘But I’m coming to know you,’ said Laurent.

this pulls everything between the lines of this chapter together beautifully. the mutual re-evaluation, the undeniable reality of their connection, a kingdom or this. i would love to know just how many drafts and editing passes this specific chapter went through, to achieve this degree of excellence.

also, a theme from book 1: "there is no honor in obedience."

[evita-shelby]

Pls I need more dad!Jack 🙏 Preferably something about him interacting with his girls, being the protective father. I hope you feel inspired to write this bc I’d love to read it!

Omg your request took life on its own and even included Gina dhdhbd

I hope you like it

Cw: mentions of racism, mention violence and ableism

Papa Bear

1929

He barely had a damn clue what it was to be a dad when he was given partial custody to his teenage niece. He didn’t think he’d be doing much when he started looking for a blue-blooded wife to marry and now Jack likes to think he’s doing a good enough job as a father.

Seven fucking kids.

Three daughters, four sons.

He loves all his kids, but he’s got a soft spot for his girls. Rosie, sweet little Rosemary who is a living testament that the fucking quack who said she should be put away like an unwanted decoration didn’t know what he was talking about.

Rosie’s a quiet little thing with big brown eyes with Jack’s brutal honesty and Eva’s attention to detail. Loves the piano most of out of all other instruments she plays, has a collection of dolls from all over the world threatening to swallow the house and does not like big gatherings or foods that touch each other on her plate.

“Was looking for you, kid.” Jack isn’t surprised to find her playing by herself in his home office. The door had been locked, but he’d taught her how to pick locks just like his old man did before he got his brains blown out when Jack was 10.

She hides here when she gets overwhelmed from all the noise and sensations and anything that shifts out of place in her perfect routine. Now that Gina and her husband were back in the States, it happened more often.

Gina had lost some of her teenage shittyness, but now that Michael had been tossed out on his ass and her position in her own family tainted by his failure in England, her bullying had returned. As if it was Rosie’s fault that she backed the wrong horse by marrying Michael.

It wasn’t the only reason Gina picked on who she perceived as the weakest opponent, Jack knows he spoiled the fuck out of her because she was his only niece and him having kids was a blow to her despite being 16.

“You knew I was here, daddy.” She gives a small smile ducking her eyes as always while she puts down the pen with which she writes the notes to the simple solo he taught her on the margins of his notebook.

They could tell her mood by the song she wrote down or played. Jack prided himself on knowing how to read her mood perfectly despite the placid face she tends to have on.

The song his mother used to play for him was when she just needed space: The Last Rose of Summer.

He used to sing it to her as a baby, to all his girls, but she was his first daughter, his little Rosie. Something that Gina has long pretended she’s not bothered by but shows in her irrational jealousy towards Rosie in particular.

“Gina left already, if you want to come back to your piano and finish your duet with Junior. Your mom was looking forward to it, you know how much she likes Clair de Lune.” That was another song she would write or play when she needed Eva more than him.

His nine-year-old girl perks up at the magic words and leaves his chair talking his ear off at how she and her brother ---her favorite brother in fact--- tweaked the melody for their mother and asked him if he thinks she’ll love it.

“How could she not, kid?” Jack takes off his coat from the girl’s shoulders and puts it back in the coat hanger before they return to the music room together.

1934

Where Rosie is sweet and quiet, Kitty is all fire and chaos.

A bullheaded girl put on this earth to give him an aneurysm. Loves sports, good at everything she sets her mind to, and nothing is ever enough for her.

But he loves his fiery little girl with his dead mom’s auburn hair and that ring of brown at the center of her eyes just like his. Wouldn’t change her for the world.

She is so much like him that he wonders how the fuck his mother managed raised him by her lonesome.

There’s much of Eva about her too, the pout, her wit and inability to sit still.

“Why’d you hit him?” he asks knowing too well that the school principal had been lying her ass about why Kit was getting expelled.

A student, they would’ve let it fly with the right amount of money. Old Pat had paid two hundred dollars in 1910 to keep him from getting expelled from curb stomping an idiot who called him a a potato-digging charity case. He’d done it because he saw a future for him, and that future was Harvard.

Katherine Drusilla Nelson had kicked a teacher in the balls. Jack had been so proud of her and would find a way to spin it for Eva who could not come in, thank God.

“Fucker called me a spic.” The eleven-year-old girl fumed in the passenger seat unaware that they’ll be stopping for ice cream and candy because Jack thinks kicking a bigot in the nuts merits a reward.

Eva would agree.

Eva would make a whole shitshow for the school because God forbid anyone hurts her babies. He would help her, especially now that they are no longer pretending to be fascist bigots after confirming how deluded Mosley and his ilk are in England.

Shelby had jumped ship too, and without their contract and Gina’s own disgust at having to fuck Mosley for information, Jack could tell the rat faced bastard to go fuck himself.

“Did you kick him like mommy taught you?” Jack asks, knowing his Kitten took Eva’s lessons in self-defense to heart. Jack had once been hit with a baseball bat thinking he was an intruder one night, if she’d gone to England with them, he would’ve loved to set her loose on Mosley.

“Yes.” The girl answered with a sniffle.

The little girl gets home happy as a clam and only half-hears her mother’s disappointment at her behavior knowing her dad agrees Mr. Burke deserved all the pain and embarrassment he got at her hands.

1933

Eunice Jane Nelson was something.

A perfect mix of his two elder daughters but a witch like her mother. Named after his Aunt Euni who had been his godmother and himself.

The four-year-old girl had pointed her toy gun and ‘shot’ Michael right between the eyes. Everyone had laughed thinking it was just Euni, Eddie and Laurie playing cowboys and robbers, but the pig-tailed girl had then said in a sing-song voice, “Tommy’s gonna kill you.”

“A crazy like the other one.” Gina had brushed it off refusing to consider her husband’s been marked for death.

“Don’t push it, Gee.” Jack warns as the children are taken upstairs by Eva and the nanny. “Kid takes after her mother, that’s all.”

Eva had not told him how unsettling she’d been as a kid.

Prophetic night terrors didn’t affect your childhood much, his siblings had all been rather normal beyond that. Junior and his other kids weren’t like this, either.

“Easy for you to say, you’re not the one told they’re getting murdered by their fucking cousin by a four-year-old.” Michael said in his wife’s defense. He used to be more tolerant of the kid, said his mom was like that too, but he’d gotten worse after his mother’s death. At any age your mother’s death was guaranteed to fuck you up, Michael Gray and Jack were proof of that.

“You’re under my roof, watch how you talk about my kids, or I’ll do the job myself, Gray.” Jack warned tired of their bullshit.

Michael was desperate to prove himself a big dog. hates knowing he’s still not one of them after five years of pulling his weight in his service.

Thing is, the boy is not a man, his overconfidence always does him in when the shit gets tough. Gina was just as desperate to prove her place here too, only she knew she could get away with worse shit for being the boss’ niece.

“Oh, goodie, now you’re in papa bear mode.” His niece rolled her eyes like she was sixteen again. “So, what are we gonna do about Tommy Shelby? Or are you gonna wait until he comes after your kids because Michael and I are fair game?”

“You are my blood; Shelby wouldn’t kill you ‘cause he doesn’t want to fuck with me. I can give some protection to your husband while he’s in American soil, like a good old papa bear would, but if he can’t handle his own affairs when the time comes, then he’s shit out of luck, kid.” The gangster doesn’t let her taunts get to him, its more of an annoyance than anything, but serves to get his point across.

He protects his family, even Michael. Like a good old papa bear.

[daydream-believin]

a real stand up guy ba dum tss

summary: you get stood up by an internet man. douxie, your waiter and secret admirer, remedies that jackass’s mistake.

warnings: uh. swearing, alcohol, i’m too lazy to proof, the yooj. oh and doux doesn’t know how to handle this crush without getting slightly into stalker territory sorry. its a red flag but i think its cute. you may not think its cute.

a/n: tumblr was glitching while i tried to post this so idk how many paragraphs i accidentally erased. i mean i tried my best to make that number 0. but anyways if something is off let me know. the challenge for this one is that im not allowed to use italics. which you should know was very hard for me agshjfkgjdjh

taglist: @moppetwithamanbun @alovesongshewrote @blixeon @prismarts @fantasyiswaybetterthanreality @ukuleles-and-roses

okay quick psa i know it’s been years so if you want off the taglist just hmu. also if you were on the taglist and got taken off thats bc tumblr says you don’t exist anymore

uh this was a request. i’m not doing requests tho dont think that. looking back yeah that ask if from march 2022 and this doesn’t even match up to what you asked 😂 im so sorry @rose-writes-shit

you took a peek at your watch. 7:34 o’ clock. letting your head fall into the open palm of your propped up hand, you sighed.

coffee meets bagel boy was supposed to have met you at 7:00.

of fucking course. you let your plucky pink-haired coworker convince you to download a fucking dating app and make a profile, just for the only guy who had actually been interested enough in you to ask you on a real date to stand you up. makes sense.

it’s not like you’ve ever had luck with these kind of things. it’s not like you’ve ever had luck period. your kind might be the black cat of humans.

you’ve spent way too long eating the free bread at a mr. benoit’s of all places. it was the “classiest” establishment in the certain suburban hellscape of california you inhabited, albeit. you took in the scenery for the millionth time that night with a renewed sense of disgust. at least now you had a legitimate reason to hate this place.

your waiter slinked over, and you could tell he felt bad for you with the awkward shuffling gait to the pity grimace on his face.

“so, uh, perhaps more bread?”

you rolled your face towards him, arbitrarily throwing animosity his way with your dead eyes, just because he was there. but soon your compulsive desire to be the funniest pathetic wretch in the room won out.

“i’m considering burning this whole place down right now, actually,” you joked.

he grit his teeth, sucking in a breath, “could i perhaps convince you to do that on a night i’m not closing, instead? tomorrow is my least favorite coworker’s turn, for your consideration,”

“hmm,” you pretended to think, “i’ll do that then, it’s only kind,”

“thank you for your generosity,” he grinned, “now, are you still waiting for someone or?”

-

douxie had been watching you for over half an hour now. not creepily. he swears. he just got a little excited when he saw you come into the restaurant is all.

anddd maybe he might have badgered the host into giving you one of his tables. but again, he was just excited. he’s been looking for an excuse to talk to you for the past three months, after all. forgive him for jumping on the opportunity.

he maybe fancied you. just a wee bit. perhaps a rather large bit. or at least, the version of you he’s cooked up in his head from the way he sees you interact with people at house parties and the things he’s heard from zoe.

but he’s sure he’ll love you. as soon as he gets to know who you actually are. which, hopefully, is about to be sooner rather than later.

he did not anticipate this situation, however. whatever benevolent deity blessed him on this night decided to throw a jar of pickled herring in with the otherwise yummy pastry filled gift basket they left for him.

not long after you arrived at 6:56 pm, not that he marked the time you came in or anything he just happened to glance at the clock around that time, he watched you, how they say, deflate. your demeanor shifted from antsy to sad to downright annoyed.

you were dressed nicely. not fancy, not pretending like this wasn’t a benoit’s. but nice. orderly. like you wanted to make a good impression on whoever it was you were expecting to meet. so either a date, or mayhaps a job interview.

not that you didn’t look nice or orderly on other days. you just weren’t in your hex tech uniform shirt. or in the incredibly casual clothes you wore when he saw you around. you were just. clearly cleaned-up, is all.

whoever it was, it was obvious that they were not coming. doux applauded you for being patient enough to wait this long, but again, they obviously weren’t coming. which, if it was a date, was good for him, but bad for you. very bad for you.

and honestly who does this person think they are? letting you down like this? horrible. disgraceful. this person was a grade A jerk-off. they have to be dead from the neck up to leave you waiting here like this, publicly embarrassing you as you sat at a table set for two all alone at one of the busiest restaurants in town. shame on them.

he was glad you seemed to be in the joking mood, however. and about arson, too. oh, he’s always had a soft spot for arsonists.

he hoped you’ll forgive him for having to do his job. if it was up to him, he’d give you all the bread in the pantry just so you wouldn’t leave. but alas, he had to deal the killing blow.

“now, are you still waiting for someone, or?”

your eyes drifted downward to the empty wineglass in your hand as you swirled it sarcastically as if it were still full.

you sighed, “yeah, no, it’s clear he doesn’t plan on showing,” you looked back up at him ruefully, “i’ll order now. i shouldn’t have waited this long for an internet man, anyway, huh? could’ve made it less pathetic.”

“i don’t think there’s a way to make these things any ‘more’ or ‘less’ pathetic,” he began taking out his notepad, ready to write, “because i wouldn’t call it pathetic at all. getting stood up is a thing that’s done to you, not because of who you are, but because of who someone else chooses to be… unless you stole this guy’s car or something. then it’s your fault.”

you laughed. genuinely.

“no, no, it’s a first date. i haven’t known this guy long enough to steal his car yet. but thanks… that’s. a better outlook than mine. kinder,” you apologized, “… uh, can i have like, the cheapest bottle of white wine you’ve got back there? the whole thing this time.”

“i take it back. that definitely made it pathetic.”

while you shared a laugh, douxie mentally congratulated himself. you had just given him the information that a) you were single and b) you were into men. a good day to be a charming single man, then. he had a chance.

“so are you ordering any real food as well? or did you plan on just having wine and bread for dinner? have to say, i don’t think that’s wise, love.”

“well i suppose i gotta, since, i’ve, uh, eaten three baskets of complimentary bread,” you stumbled over your words for a second there, “and i’m sure it’d make the manager mad if it didn’t, right?”

“right you are. he’s uh,” douxie lowered his voice, “he’salreadybeenonmydickaboutyou so yeah, you gotta. plus i’m just— you should eat something, yeah.”

you awkwardly turned your attention to the menu as you did that thing where you hold it and pretend to look over the menu as you order like you forgot or something, “the duck confit sounds good for tonight, i think,”

douxie snorted.

“no, no, that wasn’t a joke,” you shook your head, smiling fondly, “i actually just like duck, i promise. no sarcasm. i do understand the irony though. i get it.”

he didn’t completely believe you, “well then, one order of duck confit, coming right up. be back shortly, love.”

doux grabbed the breadbasket on his way out.

when he glanced back to throw you a short and unnoticeable but longing stare, as he paused in the kitchen doorway, you were fidgeting with the flowers on the table. he should get that order in now.

-

when your waiter came back with food, he placed two plates down on the table. you looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head as he took the other seat as well.

“what are you—“

“i called in a favor with the owner. i’m still working but, i’ve got a bit of free time now. if you don’t mind me joining you,”

you shook your head in astonishment.

“not at all,” you smiled, still absolutely flabbergasted that this man would do something like this for you, “you’re douxie, right? zoe’s mentioned you a lot.”

“oH—,” he coughed, “oh, uh, she has?“

“yeah,”

he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, “only good things, i pray?”

“oh, sure. sure. good things,” you took a demure little sip of your glass to torture him with the pause implying the contrary.

he swallowed audibly. nervous, then. what dirt did zoe have on him. you watched as he awkwardly shoved up the sleeves of his shirt, perhaps feeling a bit warm now. it was cute.

you’d be sure to ask zoe all about him later. how could you not. this was the most interesting thing to happen all year. and it’s december.

you racked your brain for what you knew of this guy for conversation topics.

“you’re in zoe’s band, right? the lead guitarist.”

his face lit up at the mention of it, “oh, yes. you’ve seen us?”

“once or twice, i believe.”

it wasn’t really your thing, live music. you mostly hung around the back of the bar when you got dragged to shows. you liked loud, sometimes. just not often. it really depended on how your brain was feeling that day.

“well, you’ve gotta come to the next gig, then, at least. i’m sure zoe’s already invited you?” you nodded. “the venue’s holding a wee little music festival, it’s going to be nuclear,”

“ah, that’s fun,” you smiled. that sounded like hell but now that two very enthusiastic wizards have invited you, you don’t have the heart to weasel your way out of it. you’ll bring the “XTREME” ear plugs.

“but yeah, the bands great. i love that i get to play with my mates now. a team that works as well together as we do is rare, so i really appreciate them.”

“speaking of,”

doux hummed inquisitively.

“what’s going on with zoe and that new girly y’all’ve got on the drums?”

“oh,” he paused to take a sip, narrowing his eyes mischievously, “they’re boning.”

you clasped your hands together excitedly, “thank you! you’ve just won me a betting pool.”

he almost had to spit the wine back into his glass,“hhhh. how many?”

“oh, just the entirety of the hex tech arcadia staff.”

“i’m not sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

“which is why you won’t tell her, mr. casperan,” you placed your hand over his with a cheshire cat grin.

well, he couldn’t argue with that.

dinner progressed. alas, you can’t say you lingered as long as you wanted to on conversation. you were kinda rushing things because you felt a little guilty doux was getting someone to cover for him while you had your little date. was this a date. it had to be. as mentioned, he’s going out of his way for this, and you can’t imagine he’d go through all this trouble because he wasn’t interested in you. but then again, you couldn’t believe he was interested in you either.

“do you like cryptozoology?” douxie tried his best to ask nonchalantly while he scratched the bridge of his nose to look a little less interested. he was feeling a bit energized since talking about the band. you had been paying attention to him like he’d been paying attention to you, if only in passing.

“a tad more than the average californian wizard, why?”

“well, later this weekend, i’ve got a job exterminating a goblin infestation in the next town over,”

“snelling?”

“yeah, snelling. the guy i was partnering with told me he was backing out this morning, so now i’ll be going it alone. and im sure you know how fighting goblins alone usually goes.”

“makes it easier for them to gang up on you, yes.”

“see, that’s why i’m asking if you’d be interesting in taking his place?”

“well, i’ve got the weekend off and nothing to do,” he knew that, he got the hex tech schedule from zoe every week(to know how to schedule band practice. and, if he also took a peak at your schedule, it was purely accidental. yeah.), “so, i don’t see why not.”

doux grinned, both relieved he wouldn’t be fighting goblins alone, and feeling clever that he found an excuse to spend more time with you, “perfect, i’ll text you the details? but, oh, i don’t have your number do i?”

you were about to ask why he couldn’t just tell you in person right now, but he said that soo hammy. it took .01 seconds to understand what he was doing. you snorted.

“okay, okay, here,” you held out your hand and he gladly placed his unlocked phone in your hand. you made the contact and sent yourself a text of the first emoji he had in his recents, which happened to be🫀. ah, a goth romantic. you gave him back his phone.

“perfect. thank you, love.” he tucked the phone into his chest dramatically before placing in back into his pocket.

you rolled your eyes fondly, “you know, goblin smashing isn’t exactly my idea of the perfect second date, you might have to turn up the charm.”

“oh, i’m sure i’ll make it worth your while,” he let his head fall into his palm propped up on the table, gaze going soft, “so was this a perfect first date, then?”

you laughed, “hardly. all things considered. but—“

“but?”

“but i’m glad it happened this way. i��ve had a good time, mr. casperan.”

he grinned in agreement, “me too.”

you put your hand on top of the one he left resting on the table, and he took the opportunity to take that hand and gently lay a kiss to the top of your knuckles. he lingered for a moment, eyes shut tight to take in the tenderness of the moment.

alas, he has to go back to work now.

doux pulled out your chair and helped you to your feet. you thanked him as he started stacking the dishes.

“should i—?”

“no, god no,” he chuffed, “i’m the waiter, remember? i work here.”

“oh yeah.”

that reminded you. you shuffled for your wallet, but he stopped you.

“i’m paying for dinner, love. go enjoy the rest of your evening, i’ll text you after i close.”

“you sure?” it didn’t really sit right with you, considering he probably took a pay cut by not working the whole time you were on this little “date.”

“well,” he paused, and placed the dishes back onto the table for time being, “you could leave me a tip, if you know what i mean. just a teeny thing—“

“c’mere,” you snickered as you pulled him down by the lapels to kiss him.

chaste, just a peck. but perfect and sweet all the same.

when you pulled back, you watched as douxie held his eyes closed for just a moment longer than he need to before letting that blinding all encompassing smile bloom across his face.

“well then, a very goodnight to you, y/n l/n.”

[fleuntet]

A Mistake Made For You

Pairing: Miguel O’ Hara x GN!Reader

Summary: Miguel decides no more losses.

Warnings: none, really. just a bunch of angst <3

A/N: not proofread, sorry pookies. if you find any mistakes just ignore them. i’ll probably edit it later since i decided to quickly write this in the middle of the night bc i cannot get enough of angst w miguem

The wreckage was already coming. Screams were undeniable loud, crashes and clatter were crumbling down behind him. And just as fast as it started, “his” daughter was gone from his arms and now all that was left was nothing but thin air.

Looking down, he knew his mistake was coming following him. For what he thought was a chance to return back to his family, to somehow find peace in his life, he couldn’t have it. This was proof of if. The multiverse was more than capable of taking it all away.

Releasing heavy breaths, as he stayed in place, people rushed and pushed beside him. The only thing left he could think of now that his daughter was gone was you. Somewhere, around all of this chaos you had to be here.

And he had to find you.

Before he would lose you too.

Without a second thought, he rushed back to Queens, knowing shortcuts to get there quicker than he would have time.

He knew he shouldn’t be doing this for the main reason he did this, to find his daughter, to be with her, was just the reason that this world was falling apart. Saving the life of “his” daughter without a father has just about broken this world, leaving it on a thread with life.

So running to you to save you? It just seemed as crazy as the last. But he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t. He wanted to find solace in something, anything. Even if that meant the world would tear itself apart.

Swinging and swinging, he finally reached within your apartment. Glitches were starting to become more frequent, more visible as the buildings were falling down onto cars. It was awful the noises that surrounded him. Haunting.

Making it to the window of you apartment, he knocked as hard as he could. Within seconds of no response, he broke the window, sending glass scattering all around.

Going through the curtain, he heard your voice, loud and clear. “Stay the hell away!”

He froze to the sight of you. A knife in your right hand, a firm grip of VHS tapes on your left. He knew exactly what those were — voice memos. The ones he would record late at night when he attempted to explain his situation, updates on his own imposter as your friend, as a father and a husband.

He rose his hands, not sure how it would help exactly but he knew you wound possibly feel more calm with him doing that. Miguel shook his head, his eyes desperate for a chance to speak but your eyes, full of tears showed how much you didn’t want to hear his words.

Letting out a small sob, you inhaled deeply before quietly asking, “Why?”

This broke Miguel’s heart.

Seeing his the man you thought you knew, you thought you loved give you no response, you jolted forward, the grip of the knife becoming tighter and more threatening as your knuckles turned white. “Tell me!” you screamed.

He didn’t even dare to look at you anymore. He was defeated. He lost. What the hell was he thinking? Thinking that a damn wrist watch was going to help him get back to the life he wanted? He wanted it all, and knowing the consequences he still went through with it.

He just wanted to have it that badly. He ached for it. The feeling of being alone was not one he wanted. He wanted to feel happy, he wanted to feel free, he wanted-

Miguel’s train of thought was lost with a sudden earthquake occurring below him. Glitches reached your living room, vases and picture frames becoming more colorful than normal.

The two of yours attention on each other was lost for a brief moment. Your face mortified. Fuck.

“Miguel,” you whispered, your eyes back to him, full of hatred now. “What did you do?” He frowned.

“Miguel, mírame y dime que hiciste?!” Your voice cracking, your eyes hurt, you have never felt such anger like this.

He knew what he had to do. He didn’t like the idea of making the same mistake he was doing right now sign you but he knew he had no choice. He already lost too much. He couldn’t bear anymore lost. One more and for sure he would never be the same again.

So he grabbed your wrist, tearing off the gizmo from his wrist and binding it over yours. You tried to break away from his grasp, kicking and screaming, hitting him in the shoulder but he wouldn’t budge.

And before knew it, you were staring at the picture frame hanged on your kitchen wall of you and Miguel, happy faces you two will no longer have. That was the last thing you would look at before you found yourself blacking out.

[isa-ghost]

Could I mayhaps have some hc!philza headcanons? Could be him in his hardcore, or how his time in hardcorr affects him now maybe? :D

OUGH YES.

So these will be operating off the theory that qPhil is hcPhil with his memory fucked up by the Federation. I'm gonna aim for "pre island, this is how qPhil was" but we'll see what happens as I actually write these LOL

What if I call these Pre-Dilf Edition in the masterlist SKFJSKFJSKFHF

10/10 would read the hardcore deity set I did recently to go with these :D

qPhil headcanons masterlist

He either had a flawless sleep schedule (early to bed early to rise ass mf) or no sleep schedule at all (spending 3+ nights hyperfocused on smth). It made for a very loopy Phil sometimes, which his murder of crows very much enjoyed

This man can fit so much joy and whimsy in him. Everything is awesome, everything is a breathtaking work of art and everything is decades of rich history to uncover. He loves life, he loves the passage of time, he loves teaching the murder about what he finds & restores

That's his main hobby besides being a survivalist, restoration and an informal form of archiving. He sketches the builds, takes notes on the deities, adds his own little touches to each place to make it a little prettier

He could fly for hours. Sometimes he'd fly aimlessly into late into the night, too immersed in sight-seeing and chatting with the murder

He had little altars in Flowerfall, Nether Void & Greater Spawn Islands for OO, BE, and Rose respectively. He'd leave little shiny things, trinkets that made him think of them, offerings like cooked fish or blaze rods or flowers in little offering bowls. Just as a nice, more direct way of giving them thanks for creating something so beautiful and allowing him to restore it to its former glory

He fucking loves swimming and fishing and hanging out at Endlantis, he'd just very aggressively avoid the cave that is EK's tomb. It was extremely haunted, he never got good vibes down there

He sometimes considers making his own remarkable build as a sort of "I was here, I too am a mark upon this history" but looks at his house and is like "mmmmbetter not" (he's an idiot, he could 100% build something cool, just probably not on the scale of the builds the gods have created. He'd probably create it for Goddess of Death, not even himself 💀)

Obligatory gapple addiction mention. It didn't start because of the murder, but he definitely used them as an excuse to further indulge once he started devoting eating one to the crows who'd been in the murder for a year. He never really had a reason to quit, or worry about the addiction, so he never experienced negative effects from it. Gapples aren't exactly harmful, just.. tinged with just enough magic to infect the brain. (He never experienced withdrawal misery on QI bc the Feds wiped his memory so his body had no idea it should be having a bitch fit =) )

Semi-related, he loved the days where he and the murder lacked the motivation and focus to do restoration things so they'd just fuck off in a random direction for ages and go on loot sprees. Nothing more exciting than hunting for more god apples :D

He started out liking fishing. The murder got too obsessed and it became the bane of his existence. But he loves the murder, so he does it anyway. Besides, he wouldn't trade chill talks with them for the world. :')

Btw he doesn't know this but it was equal parts the Ender King & the Feds ripping rifts between the universes that got him caught and taken to QI. EK didn't plan for that to happen, he just wanted to escape to a new reality to find a vessel to come back to power. Which is why once Phil was on the island, EK went "Fuck it, I'll use that asshole since he's not only compatible, but from the same plane of existence"

Mobs never scared him much (except Enderman) despite the fact that they were very dangerous and he's a survivalist. He was practically a mob whisperer, it's how he trapped trophy ones, made certain farms and why he was 99% fearless when farming charged creepers. QI has so many mobs he's never seen in his life that his chill instincts are suddenly like AAAWTFWTF

He never felt truly alone despite being the only humanoid. He felt like Rose was always with him, very rarely OO, and the murder ofc. He could understand them and he'd talk to them all day every day. Not only that, he had pets like Pog and Champ and there were quite a few times he'd humanize inanimate objects, which scientifically helps keep you sane in isolation such as survival. He always felt like he had Something to socialize with

That said, he IS still a bit weird socially on the island. Socializing with humans is way different than crows, other animals, gods, and objects.

Btw Ian is God of Chaos (a lesser god like Goddess of Death) and other mods like Birder, D3 & Wolfy are notably larger or perhaps a different species of corvid that hang out among the murder :D

[johnslittlespoon]

Hello, gorgeous!

First of all, thank you for the joy of reading the first chapter of Tough And Sweet (Like You And Me).

I just have one question: Will future chapters show us Gale’s POV as well? Personally, I’d love to see young, shy Bucky through the eyes of an older Gale.

HIII sweetest human!! <3 no thank YOU for reading omg and for the kind words plsss :')) and for giving me an excuse to talk ab this LOL. tldr: future chapters no, future parts/drabbles yes!!

i was actually so indecisive about this when i started plotting the fic because while i enjoy reading fics with alternating povs just as much as fics without them, i've never written one with them and i wasn't sure if i'd enjoy/be good at switching mindsets like that!

i ultimately decided to stick to john's pov for that reason, but also because i thought as the reader, having to see things through his eyes and only being able to guess about gale the way john does would be more intriguing, especially with john's view of the world/interactions warped and/or rose–tinted by youth, inexperience, emotional dysregulation, etc.

BUT sooo much of what i have written in my drafting doc is from gale's pov because i love picturing this bucky through his eyes too, it's just such a fresh and new dynamic for me to explore as someone who primarily writes mota–verse buckbucky, and what we see from john's pov is so different from how gale sees things of course lol.

like it drives me insane thinking about how this poor man was literally just living his peaceful life, fine with being solo, going through the routine every day of work and then bike club and then home, and suddenly he's got this golden retriever of a boy attached to him like a magnet, and he's being kept on his toes dealing with the bundle of energy, and each day is now unpredictable and as exciting as it is stressful and he has no one to blame but himself lol. and the way we don't get to see the self–restraint he has to have and the struggle to be responsible and do what's 'right' while also dealing with his own feelings, because john isn't aware that's going on inside gale's head!

i could go on and on about his side of things aughghgh so i think eventually i'll end up doing a pretty lengthy oneshot sorta thing of certain events in the actual fic through gale's eyes (kinda what i plan on doing with yadiym for john's pov) bc goddd i have so many thoughts about how all of this would be playing out from his perspective!!! if not a oneshot, then drabbles like this one i hope.

if i had the time and if it wouldn't be boring to read i would honestly just rewrite the whole fic from gale's pov once it's done because with every scene i write, i'm like ooo i wanna dive into his pov and talk about what he's thinking and seeing so BAD but i can't bc we're in john's head </3 i just love analyzing john through his eyes and ik i've yapped ab this so much in past posts but gale does see so much of his younger self in him, that's why he has a lot of patience and takes a liking to him so fast, even if he doesn't realize that right away. :')

at the very least i definitely want to write pwp oneshots/drabbles set in the TAS universe from gale's pov so i can gush over describing how pretty and sweet and mouthy john is LOL i'm sure i'll add the fic itself to a series like with my dog–coded fic so that i can build on the au with oneshots once it's done >:-)

this is such a longwinded response (what else is new!) but you poked the bubble in my brain that's been agonizing over wanting to delve into gale's pov so <3 this is much more rambling than your question warranted but thx JSDKG

[evereverest2]

Terzomega Drabble — Fallen Angel AU

story is below the cut if you want to skip my rant!!

ok i’m a newer tumblr user but it’s time i put on my big boy boots and info dump all my creative thoughts about a random set of characters on a random post that no one will see !!! woo hoo !!

so i’m obsessed with catholic lore deeply interested in celestial/demonic terzomega, and the other day i wrote a little drabble that i wasn’t totally satisfied with but i figured i could post it here and maybe that would give me some more inspo.

my idea is catholic priest terzo/fallen angel omega. as far as terzo goes i thought it would be cute if he was like one in a line of religious men. like his dad was a pastor (priests cant fuck but pastors can😏) and all of he and his brothers became priests, and like he treats it more like a job but he really likes the attention and how ppl adore him. kinda like He Is vibes. maybe he’s a a lil filthy priest who knows :>

i wont get into why i think omega fell bc if i make this into a story i want ✨intrigue✨ but i see him as this greatly wise beast burdened with his own knowledge of the universe, harrowed by his fall, guilty and ashamed and unable to come to terms with it. he obvi fell much later than the other demons. the next step is supposed to be hell, but by some cosmic mistake or decision, he fell into a church, and because of that he couldn’t like, yk, fall through to be a demon bc demons aren’t allowed in churches, so he’s kinda stuck between. id assume at some other point other ghouls try to make him come to hell. ive been really into alpha lately so it would be hot if alpha came, and they had a history bc yk all demons were angels once, and they fought and stuff. yees.

so anyway, i wrote this drabble that i will put below. i wasn’t entirely satisfied with it for a few reason… 1) i didn’t quite have a grasp on either of their characters for this au, partly bc of Little Monster, partly bc i came up with this two days ago and haven’t thought about it since and two 2) i wrote it during a day that i was burnt out w writing so its not up to snuff imo.

so if you got through all that and u make it through the drabble, i would really appreciate any feedback u can give. it’s only 1.4k words, so about a 10 minute read if ur slow, prolly closer to five :> thank u in advance, have a splendid (day/night) time :D

—

“Have a good night, father.”

Terzo waved off the sister, watching the heavy doors swing shut after her in the dim candlelight, deafening the sound of heavy rain outside. He turned to walk up the aisle, all the way up the steps to the altar, ensuring along the way that everything was in its proper place. He smoothed a wrinkle in the corporal, tweaking the positions of the chalic and paten until everything was just so. He looked out at the dark recess and nodded.

Not a hair out of place. All was right and in its proper place.

From the heavens a great shatter sounded, like thunder and splitting wood. Terzo looked up. Through the roof came a great, dark, feathery beast that collapsed to the floor with a reverberating crack of the tiles and pews it landed on. The storm raged on above, rain pouring in from the newly broken ceiling, falling onto the collision below.

The being slowly rose to a stand. A large man with dusky skin, great horns, and black wings, dressed in a stained and drenched robe that hung limply from his impressive torso. He looked up to the hole in the sky, facing the rain that dripped onto his face. With a sweep of his wings he was airborn, only to careen away from the opening and crash down once more. He was like a bird trying to escape its cage, desperately flapping his wings, staring to the sky, unable to fly again. Before him was his own destruction, a ravaged church broken by his falls.

Terzo had quickly dove beneath the altar in his shock, watching him with a mix of disbelief and terror stirring in him like water rolling to a boil, threatening to spill over the pot in the form of a scream.

The winged creature was suddenly still, lying in a shattered pile of wood and tile, breathing heavily. A heavy silence filled the cavernous church forebodingly.

Terzo fumbled for the Bible in his pocket, yanking off his cross necklace. A series of prayers escaped his lips in a whisper, convinced the winged horror was some sort of demon. When it did not suddenly burst into flames from the holy smite of God, Terzo slowly approached the unmoving beast, Bible and cross held before him cautiously. Once he was only a few feet away, he cried out, “In the name of the Lord, begone, foul demon!”

Nothing happened. He repeated himseslf. Not a flinch. The thing just lay there, panting harshly like a wounded animal. He flipped through his Bible, repeating any prayer he could think of. Nothing.

The beast peeked an eye open from lying face down, a black eye with white pupils. Watching him. Terzo, startled, threw the Bible at him. He winced.

“Be… Not… Afraid…” He spoke as through every syllable was painful, a deep, sonorous voice that shook Terzo to his core.

He froze for a long moment, then had an idea. He dashed away to the baptismal font and scooped up a handful of holy water, then ran back to splash it on the creature.

“You are a demon! Go from this holy ground!”

He did not move. From his quivering lips, he spoke again. “I… am… God’s… servent…”

He closed his eye again, saying nothing more. There was something amiss. Despite how he had tried most everything he could think to dispel a demon, and it lie in his church, unaffected.

It was enough to give Terzo pause.

No matter what the terrifying beast was, he was in pain. Not from anything Terzo did, but from whatever had caused him to fall through the roof of his church. Regardless of what was to be done, the winged man could not stay in the church.

“Err, excuse me. How do I… help you?” Terzo ventured.

No response. Terzo thought for a moment. There was no way he could lift him, or even drag him. He was enormous compared to the compact priest, with humongous wings to match.

“Could you walk?” The weak eye opened again. Terzo said, “I will take you somewhere more comfortable, si?”

He stirred suddenly, stumbling to his feet, hunched over and clutching his own ribcage. Terzo, unsure, began walking towards the doors. The beast slowly followed.

He locked the door behind him, trying to ignore that his precious church had been destroyed and how the winged man stared at him intensely. A problem for the morning. He led the creature across the street where his refractory was, his home. Luckily, no one was around to see them in this late hour, and even then, it was pitch black outside. The storm had shorted all the power, including the street lights.

Terzo led him to an empty bedroom on the ground floor, which held a rather small bed compared to some others he had, but Terzo was worried about him being able to walk much longer, let alone up stairs.

“Lie down on this,” Terzo instructed, pulling back the blankets. He hardly made it through the doorway with his large wings, but once he squeezed through he instantly fell onto the bed, making it bounce violently with the weight.

“May I… err… touch you?”

Not even a reaction. He seemed half ready to die on Terzo’s spare mattress.

Terzo pulled away the stained robe from his torso. The fabric indeed obscured a glistening wound sat between his lower ribs. Surprisingly, it was not bleeding as much as he would have expected, but it was concerningly deep.

Terzo hurried in and out with supplies to aid the poor thing. He bandaged the wound carefully, then moved on to examine the rest of his body. He was unable to flip him over, but he undressed him to ensure there were no more deep wounds. He wore no undergarments, and once Terzo was certain he had no other pressing injuries, he drew a blanket over his waist to grant him some modesty.

He gently felt for any broken bones, picking out any splinters he found along the way from his encounter with the church roof. There were bruises, which he could just barely make out on his purple skin, and he slathered them with cream. Given the nature of the fall, Terzo was surprised it was not more injured. He figured it must have been suffering from exhaustion more than anything, though he was no doctor.

After nearly an hour of tending to the strange being, Terzo sat back, exhausted. The man lay breathing heavily still from what Terzo surmised was a nicked lung. Even in unconsciousness, his face was pinched in pain, distress. Sometimes fangs would flash from his lips, as if growling at an invisible foe. He certainly looked like a demon, though something in Terzo’s gut told him not to worry.

That was, until he awoke.

Just when Terzo was beginning to wonder if he should call someone, the man sat up, his arms held defensively in front of him. Terzo stood, stumbled back in fear. The beast froze in place, staring at nothing. He looked down at his bandaged side, then at the small priest who had fallen to the ground in terror.

“No—” he breathed out, then clutched his wound in pain.

Terzo clamored to his feet and said, “You should lie back down, signore.” He very gingerly touched his shoulder, prompting him to lay back once more.

“I—” he huffed, wincing again.

“Do not speak. I think it is your lung,” Terzo awkwardly clasped his hands together. “...Although you may tell me if you are a demon.”

He shook his head, staring desperately at him. “No, I—” he gasped, “fell—”

“Let’s not worry, hm? As long as you do not plan to kill me, you should be resting. Then you may chatter all you wish.”

He opened his mouth, but said nothing. Instead he stared at Terzo with an unreadable gaze, one that made him more uncomfortable the longer he stood there.

“Do you… Eat?” he asked uncertainly. He shook his head. “Err.. Yes, well. I will let you rest. Just… let me know if you need something.”

After another thick pause consisting solely of staring, Terzo left the room. Just outside he fell against the wall, clutching his chest, his nerves jumping from his skin.

What was he doing?

—

ik im annoying thanks again for reading if u have ANY thoughts good or bad just give em to me any way u know how i SO appreciate it ur the best B)

i wrote a smut drabble for this concept LMFAO

[rayroseu]

💚 Malenoa and Levan FanDesign Notes

okayyyy 4th post of me manifesting a reveal of Malleus DNA 😂🙏✨✨

this is based mostly on crowley is levan theory

• • • these are just mainly doodles and rambles ‼️

im. so. so. desperate for more dragons in this game. i hope u guys know that akdjkaksks cuz like,,,,, why did Levan had that eastern dragon title if he aint that....😭😭 I want it bcs its a nice reference to Halloween event!!!🐉💚✨✨

You know!! Like how Halloween event signifies Levan and GloMas signifies Malenoa (i think in terms of their clothing?) and those two events focused GREATLY on Malleus' character ✨✨

( this is my sketch design of him--- i wanted to draw Levan in the halloween costume ✨✨)

I'm really fine with Crowley being Malleus' dad😂 (convinced myself to just cope with it if it came true 😂💥)

as long as the story doesn't write it off as like a silly thing or he's written off as a jerk who left Malenoa for milk (which is most of the memes correlating for this theory lol)

(i doubt TWST will write it off like this they will twist it very tragically for sure 😭 all for their best marketing boy Malleus yk✨‼️)

But uh, Princess Malenoa wouldnt actually fall for some himbo like Crowley right... KJDKAJS

PLUS YOURE TELLING ME CROWLEY USED TO BE A

1. FUTURE KING

2. HE GOT THE APPROVAL OF LILIA??? TO MARRY MALENOA???

3. THE APPROVAL AND SUPPORT OF THE FAE NOBLES AND COMMON FAES TO MARRY THEIR BELOVED PRINCESS

4. THE APPROVAL OF QUEEN MALEFICIA TO HAVE HER DAUGHTER⁉️⁉️

so being normal WAS an option dire crowley😭 what went down bird principal 💥💥

—

(i think Malleus got his expressions from Levan hehe and also his empathetic side who wants to connect with others)

Also realizing that if Crowley is ever a dragon then his masking is on point because the crow mask covers his potential dragon scales and the silly hat can cover his horns lol

and if he's ever truly Malleus' father, i hope he has a tragic/good reason why he let him overblot and the best he could do before malleus snapped was order the students --who are obviously inferior to Mal-- to stop and fight him😂😭💥‼️

—

I realised that since Princess Malenoa is their leader in military, there's a chance that she was also in charge of designing Land of Briar's military gear--

Plus!! We know Malleus designs clothes for Groom Lilia!!

So, that means she's the one who dressed up Lilia's general garments? 🥺✨

Thus, the design I thought of her is like a mixture of Malleus' Masquerade Outfit and Lilia's General Outfit ‼️✨

I put roses on her horns bcs I love the thought she's connected to roses-- its more like a decoration on her headpiece, kinda like what Maleficent wears in the live action.

I think Maleficia and Malenoa are more welcoming in displaying their draconic features rather than hiding it like Malleus. Because that's what you really do as a dragon fae and its more comfortable✨✨‼️

also bcs i think Malleus scales are so pretty (only for him to hide it behind his bangs💔💔💔) like honey... why are you hiding them aaaa (bcs he doesnt want to look more scary right...) 😭 I still hope he actually transforms into a dragon, i dont care if hes going to be so overpowered that we'll need 20 turns to empty out his HP‼️💥💥

I desperately wish Malenoa and Levan are sweetly in love because when the scene comes where both of them perishes its going to hurt real good in my heart knowing they wouldve been the sweetest parents for malleus 🥲😭💔

[fuckin-sick-bih]

I'm Your Rock, Baby. I won't back down.

Fandom: Stranger Things (honestly in my head I was thinking of Tattoo and Florist AU but it's kinky Eddie instead of kinky Steve this time? idk food for thought!) Summary: Steve's been sick and Eddie's been enjoying playing Caretaker. When Steve wakes up from a nap, they watch a movie together and cuddle. CW: cold sneezes, sneezing on partner's neck/shoulder, mention of nose blowing/wiping but really low mess fic for me! Word Count: 1,259 MINORS DNI Author Note: little drabble i did just writing in the tumblr text post thing bc for some reason writing in the tumblr text box makes it easier to write rn? idk, man, don't ask me how my brain works i just live with this traitorous electric meatball

Eddie swayed his hips to the beat of the song as he hand-washed the few items they had that weren't dishwasher safe in the sink, rings sitting on the counter beside him. His phone was softly spitting out one of his current favorites and he was mumbling along, trying to keep quiet so Steve could rest.

Poor Steve had been down for the count the last few days with a nasty cold that had left him utterly exhausted. He scrubbed at the pan he'd made breakfast this morning in as he mulled over the last few days of meds, tissues, sleeping, soup, meds, and more sleeping.

Of course, Eddie was over the moon at getting to take care of Steve. Anytime he got to take care of Steve was a win in his book. His boyfriend was like a walking poster child for hyper independence and Eddie secretly blamed the Harrington parents for that.

Pulling the drain and letting the sink water gurgle down into the abyss, Eddie sighed. He paused his music only to hear sniffling from back in the bedroom. Straining his ears, Eddie swore he heard a catch of breath just before-

"HeNX'T!"

"Don't stifle!" Eddie called out instantly, though his tone was fond as he dried his hands.

As he headed back to the bedroom, Eddie spoke again, "You want a sinus infection? That's how you get a sinus infection." He crossed his arms and admired the sight of Steve sitting up in bed with a tissue folded over his nose.

There was a light blush over Steve's face, skin still lightly tanned from summer. "Sorry. Habit. Snf! What were you doing out there? I thought you fell asleep with me?"

The quiet softness as well as how his voice seemed to grate against his throat, making Steve wince a little had Eddie moving over to the bed to sit with him. "Aw, I'm sorry. I woke up and started cleaning up a little is all. Thought I'd let you sleep as long as you could. Seemed like you needed it. How you feeling now, handsome?"

One of Eddie's hands was coming up to brush Steve's bangs back up out of his face, carding lovingly through his hair as well as pressing to his forehead. "Better than I was, honestly, but I th-hih-! ohh no... heh-ih!"

It was like Eddie's whole world was slowing down as he watched and felt Steve's expression crumple into a pre-sneeze show. His brows rose then collapsed into a pleading sort of pinch while his nostrils flared, mouth hovering open.

"E-ehhddieh-! EhX'TSHH! ID'SHuh! Hh...! ugh d'noh..." Steve collapsed forward, head jerking downward to sneeze towards their laps as his face flushed with color. He was scrambling for a tissue, but Eddie was already plucking and handing him several.

"Bless you, sweetheart, jeez." Eddie leaned forward to kiss Steve's forehead and then the top of his head. "You sure you're feeling better?" He teased, trying not to squirm as Steve blew his nose into the wad of tissues.

A little sniffle came from Steve as he finally pulled the tissues away from his face. "Uh-huh. Just think it's moved to my head. I'm all-" He gestured vaguely to his face and head with a pointed finger and sniffled again. "What's that word you use?"

Eddie made a strangled little sound and rested a hand on Steve's knee. "Stuffy?" He suggested helpfully, praying his boyfriend was searching for a more vanilla term.

"Sure. That." Steve replied with an amused little grin and Eddie knew right then and there that Steve was feeling better if he was getting one of those smiles.

Without warning, Eddie leaned in to press a soft kiss to Steve's lips before pulling back. "Brat." He took a moment to pretend to examine him, going so far as to thoughtfully tap his chin for dramatic effect. "You feel up to watching a movie on the couch with me?"

Steve looked amused at first, but he was quickly looking more and more distracted. "Yeah, I... I think I can manage- that..." His eyes went unfocused as he tried to respond to Eddie's question and Eddie knew pretty quickly what was going on as his eyes flicked to Steve's cherry-red, chapped nostrils that twitched and flared.

"Hiih... IXX'TShhuh!" Steve lurched forward towards their laps again with his powerful sneeze that had tears springing to his eyes. "Ugh, sorry. That might end up happening... more- heh...ihh-hh! ISSHHuh! God, sorry." 

. . .

Twenty minutes later found Steve curled up in Eddie's lap on the couch with Princess Bride playing on their television. Eddie was playing with Steve's hair as his head rested on his shoulder, legs sprawled over his lap.

They were both covered in a blanket and Steve had the box of tissues in his lap, one in his hand which he kept dabbing at his nose with. Eddie was doing his best to pay attention to the movie, but if he was being honest with himself he could quote the whole thing from start to finish just by where in the musical score they were.

So instead he doted softly on Steve who was sleepily watching the movie. Not much energy to do anything else as Eddie pressed soft kisses to his forehead, hair, eyebrows, and even the bridge of his nose once.

Though that had made Steve's eyes well with ticklish tears and his nostrils flared as his breath hitched softly, "E-Ehhddie, that's gonna... huh-! m-make me s-sneeze..."

"Oh, is it?" Eddie practically purred as he lifted a hand to gently tap the pad of his pointer finger against the side of Steve's nose. "Hadn't noticed."

"IHIshhiiew! IXt'Hue!" Steve exploded moments after the tap like that was all he needed to be set off. Eyes watering, bright red nose twitching and shining ever so slightly around the chapped rim. "Ugh, snf! you're a menace, Munson. Absolute snff! menace. Those good for you? Or should I nix the tissues and use you instead?"

A shudder ran through Eddie at Steve's words and he groaned, letting his head tip back. "That's playing dirty, Stevie, and you know it. You can't dirty talk me while you're sick and sneezy." Then came the soft feeling of plump lips traveling over his throat and the subtle brush of a damp nose tip against his Adam's apple.

Eddie would deny at all costs the noise that garnered from him.

It did get Steve to chuckle, though. "Like you tapping my nose isn't playing dirty. You made me sneeze. That- hhh... oh h-hang on... gonna- hihh..."

This time Eddie didn't get to watch Steve's build up, but he could feel it. Every stuttering inhale pressed up against him, the way his fingers curled against Eddie's shirt ever so slightly, and how Steve tucked into his shoulder with a final wavering. "Hihh-ih!" Before finally pressing his face into Eddie's neck and shoulder as he sneezed, "IHHxT'Shuh! Ohh- snf! shit, I forget what I was saying." He admitted, chuckling a little again as he pressed a tissue to his running nose.

Meanwhile, Eddie was getting his heart rate under control and running his fingertips lovingly along Steve's back up and down. "Bless you, pumpkin. Okay, I promise-" And Eddie made a little X over his heart with his free hand. "No more teasing my poor boyfriend's nose unless he asks or he's all better, deal?"

And then Steve gave him a wicked smile. One that only meant one thing. "I never said it was a bad thing, Eds."

[teddypickerry]

Hi idk if you’re requests are open but if so could you write a Nikki Sixx x reader where he confesses that he’s in love with the reader even though they have Ben like fighting. And the reason the have been fighting is because there both in rival bands. Idk man I just thought it was like cute lol

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐀𝐂 !

pairings! nikki sixx x fem best friend reader

word count! 1.8k

warnings! swearing (duh it’s nikki fucking sixx), mentions of sex (again… it’s a nikki sixx fic idk what the fuck you expect)

a/n! i kinda put my own spin on your request, i hope that’s good!! but guys I HAVE BEEN WANTING TO WRITE A NIKKI FIC FOR WAY TOO FUCKING LONG SO KEEP THEM REQUESTS COMING BC I NEED MORE OF MY SEXY ROCKSTAR. also can we talk about that photo???? looks can kill bc i am dead.

being in the rock scene as a woman is one of the hardest things to be conquered. or so, that's how it seemed. you couldn't go one day without being mistaken for some crazed groupie who was trying to sneak into the rehearsals. the rehearsals that were your very own, not some man's.

being the opener for mötley crüe was a new level of difficulty. when nikki sixx had asked you to fill in the position for their first world tour, you'd obliged, this gig possibly leaving you to the stardom you'd always desired. plus more time with the bassist boy who you'd had spent way too much time with in the past few years.

it started in '79 when you had just moved to the city of angels with your best friend who had already lived there a few months. when you arrived, she had a guy in her life who was living off her while in between bands. you thought this classified him as a jackass — or maybe she was just naive, but either way, it was a dick move. he ate all of your food, used all of the toilet paper, and had loud sex with your best friend all night long.

it was less than two months that you lived with the jackass before your best friend kicked him out. she had accused him of cheating which you found insane at the time, only to find truth behind that statement the more you got to know the sleazy bastard.

so, for some reason you found yourself at his band london’s show that same week. he spotted you instantly and ever since then — the two of you became an item. not the kind you think, but the kind that would kill the rest of the world for one another. the kind that had so much unspoken sexual tension but never once acted on it. too scared to ruin the relationship between the both of you. so here you were, nearly six years later, doing your hair to go out onstage to open up for his now national selling band.

"axl rose is a bad kisser, i'm just being honest." hannah, your vocalist, shrugged before applying her red lipstick in the mirror directly beside you and your hot roller set. the drummer snorted from the couch as she sipped on something that definitely wasn't water. "that's why you should have chose slash."

"it wasn't exactly a pick and choose, mila." hannah directed at the girl who balanced sticks in her hands before glancing down at you. "what about you y/n, who'd you fuck last night?"

"i left early. i went to the whisky with n-"

"with nikki," mila and hannah finished for you as you pursed your lips and took out your final curl. the two girls shared a look before their was a slight knock on the door. it opened before anyone could say a single thing though. speaking of the devil, nikki sixx stood their in all his glory. his cocky grin directed on his face, taking up the small parts you could see — his jet black dyed hair taking over the rest. he was tanned, probably because of the months in california he spent before the tour. his tanned and tattoo covered chest was wide opened, a jean vest hardly buttoned over him. he looked perfect, as per fucking usual.

"ladies!" he greeted simply with that grin of his. the two girls turned to face him, your eyes still stuck on yourself in the mirror as you started on your makeup. "nikki, you know we could have been naked." hannah spoke simply as her eyes glossed over you for a second before turning back to him, noticing his eyes also stuck on you. "well i knocked didn't i?"

"yeah, then you bolted in here." mila spoke teasingly as she messed around with her drumsticks. nikki glanced at the both of them for a second before turning back towards you, you not even giving him the light of the day. he knew what this was about, this was the very same reason he came to this dressing room.

it all started this morning when doc had ordered you to his office far too early — 9am. which for rockstar time is like 4am to a normal person. so, you went to his office tired and all, from nikki having you home at 4am rather a reasonable time. he had told you the basics of the rest of the tour and added in, as if it was no big deal, that nikki happened to head to your ex best friend's apartment after he dropped you off. because that's where he was that very morning when doc tried to contact him.

your ex best friend (the one nikki had dated that you roomed with) was a sore subject for you. nikki was the only one who truly knew what happeend. it was about a year after she kicked him out, she had crashed one of his mötley house parties that you were in attendance at. he thought it was hilarious at the time and didn't mind another hot girl in his house. but then when she noticed you, holy shit did she go psycho. you had realized later that she did this because she was jealous of you for nikki taking you under his wing, while she was the one who dumped the now successful rockstar.

there were screams of you being his slut who he would drop days later when he got bored of your "cunty behavior." then her saying something about fonzie and then pouring her drink all over your shirt. this kind of made nikki snap. he just went off, calling her a bitch and making her get out. it was the you finally realized nikki wasn't just some sleazy guy who you liked to hangout with. he was your best fucking friend.

so, the idea of him now fucking around with the girl who screamed in your face wasn't your ideal situation. "tommy has a new drum set he wanted to show you mila. and hannah..." nikki scratched the back of his neck as she finished his sentence. "i'm thirsty i'm gonna go get a drink."

"but you have a-" mila started only to get dragged by the arm with hannah's long fingernails out the door. nikki gave her a gracious smile as she shot him a wink and shut the door behind them. you acted innocent as you pampered the blush onto your face, noticing the man slowly making his way over towards you through the mirror. "y/n, babe-"

"i don't wanna hear it, nikki." you stated while you put away your blush and pulled out your eyeshadow palette. the long haired man sighed and pulled up the bench beside you climbing over it to face you. he was far too close to you, not that it bothered you. it's not like the two of you weren't used to being shoved against one another. but this was different. you knew he had spent the morning cuddled up with her. "pretty girl, i know you don't like carly. i know you can't stand her and neither can i-"

"-then why'd you spend the morning fucking off in her bed, sixx? if you hate her so much then stay away from her." you turned to face him, your faces inches apart. you could feel his breath on you as he sighed, placing his hand on your back. "i'm a sleaze, y/n. she wanted some and i was craving it so i went to her apartment. okay? i'm not proud of it," he dryly chuckled. "but i'm not proud of most of the things i do."

"you shouldn't be," you spoke as you brushed the eyeshadow over your eyelids and nikki bit down on his bottom lip. he couldn't process why this pained you so much, yeah he wished he could take it back but that was him. why did it hurt you? "babe, you're making it real difficult to apologize to right now."

you rolled your eyes before packing up some of your makeup and continuing on with your routine. he sat in silence for a moment while watching you, as if you were his favorite VHS tape that he would rewind a million times. even when he didn't understand you at times — he still was in admiration of you. everything about you amazed him. "stop looking at me."

"you make it so hard..." he paused his sentence in his twelve year old self before continuing, "when you look so fucking pretty." he expressed as he reached his hand toward, messing with the side of your tank top before making eye contact with you in the mirror. "nik?"

"hm?" he hummed as he leaned on his other hand, his eyes still locked on you in the mirror. "why? just, why? i know it wasn't just because you're 'sleazy'. you fucking hate carly and that's always enough to keep it in your pants."

nikki seemed shocked by your words but played it off with a dry laugh. the real reason was deep down and he knew it was there. he didn't want it to be there but it was, his friends reminded him of it every goddamn time you breathed. "cause..." he cleared his throat. "i'm a fucking maniac for you."

your head immediately turned towards him, your eyebrows furrowed as he seemed to have a smile of relief on his face. as if saying that cured cancer. "i've spent six years knowing you, craving you... and i thought for some fucked up reason if i fucked the girl that brought us together, i'd get over you miraculously. i realized how dumb it was the moment she was naked. because the only reason i ever fucked in that apartment was because i knew you were there. god," he paused to laugh and rub his face. "the first time i saw you, i thought carly was shit. you just... god, y/n. i fucking fell for you and i haven't stopped since then."

you couldn't believe your ears, you would have sworn your heart stopped at your best friend's words. your world stopped, that's for sure. probably when you shut him up and kissed him. it was a feeling you've desired for far too long. his chapped lips tasted so good against your own. and his little monologue tasted even fucking better. "even though you have a shit band, i want you to be my girl." nikki mumbled in between the kiss, making you slap his arm as he pulled away. the cocky grin was present on his face. "even though you have a shit band," you smirked. "i want to be your girl, nikki sixx."