#i would do anything to be in that town right now and see all of the reactions of the kids
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Summary: Harry and Gianna are best friends. He's been in love with her for years now, but she's dating someone else and he knows it's time to move on. When Harry finally agrees to go out on a blind date, Gianna reaches out — she just broke up with her boyfriend, and she needs her best friend.
PART ONE
AU, friends to lovers
+18 (explicit language)
7k words
I said to myself that I wouldn't do it, but I'm doing it anyway :D
Harry knocks on the bathroom door once, and then twice. He turns his head to the side and leans in, trying to catch any indication of an answer over the music blasting from downstairs.
It's hard to focus, though. The steady and rapid beat keeps banging from his ears to every corner of his brain, it echoes between the walls, and it seems to shake the ground beneath him. On top of that, even though he's on the second floor of the house, at the end of the hallway, and standing in an empty room, he can't tune out all the shouting, laughing, and cheering. All the people he walked past on his way in feel distant and muffled now, and yet he still can't hear one single thing through the white wood, which somehow makes everything even more annoying.
"Fuck," he whispers to himself, then steps away from the door.
He can still run away. He can still let her know he's busy tonight. He can still tell her that he won't be able to make it because he has somewhere else to go. Because he has someone else to see. Because he's already on his way to the opposite side of town.
He can… He still can… And also he should, right? He should tell her that. Mostly because, for once, it wouldn't even be a lie.
Holy shit.
Isn't it funny that, for the first time in three weeks, he wouldn't be lying to her? That for the first time he actually has plans to use as an excuse to not see her? That finally — finally — he's listened to his friends and agreed to move on?
And isn't it funny that, despite all that, there he is, on a Friday night, ignoring everything and everyone, and standing inside a stranger's house just because she asked him to?
Harry chuckles and rubs one hand across his face. He's so fucking stupid.
Because yes… He can still say no to her. And he should say no to her.
Except…
He shakes his head, and grabs his phone. Who's he even trying to fool? He can't say no to her. Of course he can't. C'mon. It's Gianna we're talking about. His Gianna. His best friend. The one person in the world he would do absolutely anything for. Of course he can't say no to her. Not when she says she needs him.
So… Ok. He needs to focus, instead. He needs to go straight to the point. He can't say no to her, but he can still say a quick hello and jump right into a goodbye. In and out. In a blink of an eye. He can be there for a friend, and still make it to his date.
Yes.
C'mon!
He checks her last text one more time, the one she sent forty-three minutes ago: second floor, last door. hiding in the bathroom. With a sigh, he puts his phone back into his pocket and takes a step forward, then turns his head to the side and presses his ear against the white wood. He lifts his hand in a fist, and knocks again. And again. And again. And again.
First comes some cursing, and then her loud and muffled voice. "Go away!"
Harry closes his eyes and, before he can even register what's happening, his lips have already turned up into a smile.
Gianna's voice is unmistakable. Not because there is something unusual or peculiar about it, but because it feels extremely characteristic of hers. Never too high, never too low. Always enough. It captures everything about her personality: the softness, the certainty, the brightness, the stubbornness, the kindness, the understanding, the annoyance, the reasoning, the confidence, the innocence, the strength, the—
Harry blinks his eyes open, and clears his throat.
He is there on a mission, so again, he needs to focus. Make sure she's ok, and make it in time for his date.
"You're the one who asked me to be here," he points out, raising his voice, but not actually yelling.
And then, it only takes three seconds for him to hear the click of the door being unlocked. He steps back and faces the bathroom, then takes a deep breath and pulls his curls away from his forehead.
Truth is, he hasn't seen Gianna in three weeks, and he can't deny he's dying to be around her again. To see the wrinkles on her face when she smiles, or the sparkles in her eyes when she tells him about something exciting that happened to her.
Fuck.
His stomach feels funny, and he gulps down. He absolutely hates this.
The door cracks open, but Gianna barely gives herself enough space to look outside, let alone to give him the chance to look at her.
"Is it just you?" she asks, peeking around him through the tiny gap she's created.
Harry frowns, and snorts. "No, I just met a bunch of strangers downstairs and brought them up here to check on my friend who apparently locked herself in some random bathroom and—"
"Okay, okay." She rolls her eyes and sighs, then steps aside. "I get it."
She hides behind the door, and silently offers him more room to walk in.
Harry shakes his head and presses his lips into a tight line, but shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans and walks forward anyway.
The space is tiny, but enough for both of them. White walls match the toilet, the bathtub, the countertop with the sink, and the medicine cabinet. The only sources of color are the orange towel hanging on the wall next to the sink, the bottles of shampoo on a corner shelf, the yellow shower curtain crumpled on one side of the tub, and a bowl of Doritos on top of the closed toilet lid.
He quirks one corner of his mouth up, but also furrows his brows. What the hell is going on? How long has she been here? And why is she even hiding in the bathroom in the first place?
Gianna closes and locks the door, and Harry jolts.
He turns on his feet, just in time to see her twirling around, too.
She glares at him with a frown on her face and hands on her hips. Her chest moves up and down, quickly and heavily, and her nostrils flare every time she takes a deep breath in. It's easy to notice, because the green overall she's wearing does a great job at hiding everything from her belly to her midcalf, but it isn't covering that much of her cleavage. Nor the soft skin on her shoulders. Nor the smoothness of her arms. And her long necklace — the one she got for herself after her first paycheck — follows the movements of her lungs, and the big, golden pendant is this close to get lost between the swells of her breasts.
Fuck. Heat rushes through his body, and his breath gets stuck in his throat.
He can't make her uncomfortable, though. He can't let her know the thoughts that keep crossing his mind every time he looks at her body. He can't even let her know he (sometimes and unwillingly) glances at her body. Fuck no. He can't be inappropriate.
He can't, under any circumstance, cross that line with her.
He just can't.
He clears his throat and forces himself to focus on her face, then. Taking in her infuriated expression first, and then her puffy cheeks, and then her smudged makeup…
And then her red eyes…
And then her washed-out stare…
He drops his shoulders, then exhales through his nose.
Here we go again…
"What did he do now?"
She opens her mouth, then closes it. And Harry's seen that same reaction so many times before that he already knows she's changing her mind about the kind of answer she wants to give him. That she will somehow deflect the truth. And that she will once again try to protect that fucking son of a bitch.
"I just…" Gianna says, and shrugs. "I just hate him."
Harry stares at her for a moment, then tilts his chin down and looks at his feet. Ok. Maybe not what he expected her to say, but still… He shakes his head and laughs, and the sound comes out of him as humorless and exhausted as he feels.
"Right," he offers, because it's the only thing he can come up with.
Is it possible for him to feel concerned about her, but also extremely annoyed at her? Because he can swear he is.
Gianna's big pleading eyes and cherry pouty mouth have always been some of his biggest weaknesses, but he promised himself he wouldn't do this again. He promised he wouldn't interfere anymore. He promised he would let her go. And he promised he would move on.
"I do, Harry," she insists. "I truly do."
He nods, then takes one hand out of his pocket and rubs one finger under his nose. Whatever. He really isn't in the mood for this drama. Not again. Not tonight. Not when he has finally decided to move on and is supposed to be on a date instead.
"You texted," he says, dropping his arm and lifting his head to face her again. He hides his hand inside his pocket again, secretly wriggling his fingers and trying to get some of his tension off his body. "Thought something happened to you."
She looks away from him, then shrugs. Her hand falls from her hip to hang by the side of her body, and she tilts her chin down, staring at her fidgety fingers.
Harry notices the moment she swallows hard, as if burying her emotions down her throat, and his entire body goes cold.
Gianna isn't happy, and she hasn't been for such a long time. And at the end of the day, it kills him to see her like this. It kills him to see her so sad. It really does. He wants to take her pain away, he wants to hold her, and he wants to protect her. And yet he can't. Not how he would like to, at least. And he doesn't know how to help her anymore. He doesn't know what else he can do. Or what else he can say. He's already tried everything and, to be honest, he feels as if he has completely run out of options. As if he has failed her.
He's powerless, and he's useless.
And he's also really fucking lost.
"I hate him," she finally says, glancing at him and repeating herself. Ignoring his attempt to change the subject.
And for a moment, Harry can swear he sees a flicker of certainty inside her. He sees it, and he feels it.
Maybe…
Yeah. Maybe she finally means it. Maybe this time is actually different.
Maybe she finally realized that fucking son of a bitch isn't worth a second of her day and she's finally going to—
No.
Harry looks away.
He'll just never learn the lesson, will he?
"I mean it."
"Right. Ok, then."
"Ugh," Gianna grunts, then clenches her teeth. "Stop saying that!"
"Saying what?" he asks, walking to the bathtub.
"Right," Gianna mimics.
Her attempt to imitate his voice and accent is endearing, and as he sits on the edge of the bathtub, he also purses his lips to hold back a smile.
"It's truly annoying," she adds. "Especially when you say it like that."
He places his elbows on his knees and tilts his chin up, looking at her.
Her arms are crossed, and she is glaring at him again.
Harry shrugs. "Like what?"
Gianna shakes her head and looks away—first at the floor, then at the sink. It takes her a moment to sigh and shrug, and when she finally speaks, her voice is only a weak whisper. "Like you don't believe in me anymore."
And just like that, Harry's entire body softens.
He didn't mean to make her think that. He didn't mean to hurt her or to be mean to her. He didn't mean to make her sad. He just… He just can't understand the situation. He just doesn't know what to do about it, and he also doesn't know how to bring it up to her anymore.
There is nothing in the world he wishes more than for those words to be true. For her to actually hate that fucking guy and leave him for good. So of course he wants to believe her, and he would if he hadn't heard the same story countless times before. But what good getting his hopes up for nothing, once again, would even do?
"Gi…" Harry says, stretching one arm to poke her knee. She flinches away, and he sighs. "Gi, c'mon, look at me."
"No."
He leans forward, stretching both of his arms now. When he still doesn't reach her, he lifts his bum a little and groans, then finally grabs her waist and pulls her closer. "Just come here."
Gianna doesn't fight him, letting him guide her until she is standing in front of him and in between his knees. Still, she doesn't look at him, keeping her arms crossed under her chest and focusing on the yellow curtain to his left, instead.
Truthfully speaking, her stubbornness is usually one of the traits Harry enjoys the least, because it tends to make her act like a grumpy, annoying little girl. On the other hand, it is also one of the things he envies the most about her, because it drives her forward to achieve whatever she wants — like when she plays it in her favor to get interviews or exclusive content for the magazine she works at.
Besides, Gianna isn't perfect, Harry knows that. And he doesn't expect her to be. So he humors her childish behavior sometimes. Like right now, when he's determined to bury himself inside her eyes. Tilting his chin up, dropping his head back and straightening his back just to look at her. Searching for her sight even if she won't give in and share it with him.
"Gi," he calls, as careful, soft, and tender as he can be. "Hey… I'm sorry, ok?"
She bites her lip, and shrugs.
And because she's also old and mature enough to act like an adult, he doesn't hold himself back from trying to put some sense into her.
"You gotta understand where I'm coming from, yeah? We've been here before, and—"
"I know, but—"
"No, you don't know, Gi. So let me say this."
She sighs, but peeks at him through the corner of her eyes and nods.
It is more than enough for him, and he gives her a half-smile, placing the tip of his fingers on the side of her knees—just to hold her somehow, just to make sure she won't run away from him before he can explain himself.
"We've been through this thousands of times, and I fucking hate when you still stay with him every single one of them. Because I hate the guy."
"I know sometimes you don't like him, but—"
"Gi, no. Listen to what I'm saying. I don't like that guy from work who chews too loudly and makes boring jokes. But Miles? I'm telling you I fucking hate him."
Gianna drops her shoulders, and her arms fall to her sides.
"Harry…" She dips her chin down and draws her eyebrows together, finally fully looking at him. "But that's… I mean… He's my boyfriend."
A new kind of heat flushes through his body, and Harry tenses.
Is she being fucking serious right now?
Is she actually going to defend him?
Is she going to stand up for him or something?
He closes his eyes for a second and clenches his jaw, taking a deep breath and trying his best to keep himself together.
He can't do this anymore. He can't keep running in circles. He can't keep dodging the truth just to protect their friendship. Mostly because, at this point, he isn't really protecting any of them anymore.
"I know," he says, blinking his eyes open and meeting her gaze one more time. "I know he is. But you're my best friend and I love you, and I hate the way he treats you. I hate that we can't see each other without it turning into a fight between you two. I hate that he won't support the things you love. I hate that he's always tricking you into changing your mind about things. I hate that you're always sad because of him. I hate that he's always making you cry. So yeah, Gi… I know he's your boyfriend, but I hate him. And I'm not sorry for that."
For a long moment, there's nothing but silence between them. Music and people are completely muffled by the walls and the closed door, almost making it easy to forget there is even a party going on out there.
Harry sits there patiently. Watching her. Waiting for her.
And Gianna watches him back. Attentive. Curious. Puzzled. Thoughtful. Scanning him with those beautiful, big, meaningful eyes. Standing right in front of him, between his knees. So close that, if he faced forward, he would only need to lean a couple inches to kiss her body. And she smells heavenly, too, like she always does when she's wearing that same perfume — fresh, captivating, sexy.
The woman of his dreams, embarrassingly as it may sound. And embarrassingly as it may be.
"Is that…" she murmurs, so quietly she really doesn't mean for anyone but him to hear. "I mean, is he the reason why you've been avoiding me these past few weeks?"
He closes his eyes for half a moment, then looks back at her. "You noticed, huh?"
"You thought I wouldn't?"
"I don't know." He shrugs. "Wasn't trying to make it obvious."
"Well, it sucked, okay? One morning I even cried listening to you on the radio."
Harry tilts his head, and pulls the corners of his mouth into a smile. "No you didn't."
She rolls her eyes, holding back a smile of her own. "Trust me, I wish it was a lie."
"Ugh." He dips his head down for a moment, rolling his shoulders before looking up again. "'M sorry, Gi."
"Yeah…" She crosses her arms once again, pressing them against her stomach and clenching her hands into fists. "I'm sorry, too."
She looks away, and he taps the tip of his fingers on the back of her knees. Already missing her undivided attention.
"What happened, Gi?" he carefully asks. "How long have you been hiding here?"
"I… I don't know. An hour? Maybe more…"
Harry sighs. "Gi… C'mon."
"I know."
"You see how insane it is, right?" he asks, staring directly at her just to observe her reaction. To make sure he isn't pushing too much. To make sure he's actually helping her, and not making it worse. "Hiding in someone's bathroom for over an hour while he's out there throwing a party for people half his age?"
She closes her eyes, then bites her bottom lip and nods.
She knows.
She actually knows.
Whatever happened this time, it finally woke her up. It finally made her see it.
He drops his shoulders, scanning her face.
Then why is she still here? Why does she keep waiting around for him? Why does she keep putting herself in this position? Over and over again? What is so special about this fucking guy that is worth all the pain he constantly puts her through?
And most importantly, what is it going to take for her to finally realize that she deserves so much better than to be treated like… This?
What can he do to help her? What's left for him to try? If he's run out of ideas, if he's said everything he could say to her, what difference can he still make?
Maybe…
No.
A thought creeps in, but he doesn't want to acknowledge it. He doesn't want to engage with it.
Although he should, because it is a new idea, and it is something he hasn't tried yet. It includes being honest, not filtering his thoughts just to make sure she won't end up hating him, and stop playing safe. It also forces him to finally take a chance, and to finally stop holding himself back.
It's too risky, though. Especially right now, when she's so vulnerable and still dating the guy.
Ok… So maybe not the entire truth, then? Maybe just the facts she needs to hear to break away from whatever curse that asshole spread on her.
And he can try that. He did it just minutes ago, when he told her how much he hates the guy — and that seemed to work more than fine so far, right?
Yes.
Ok, then.
He slides his tongue between his lips, and rolls his shoulders. And then, keeping his eyes on her, he finally says, "Gi, you deserve a lot better than this."
Gianna doesn't seem to react, although the way her breasts suddenly pop up into his eye-line suggests she's holding all the breath in her chest.
He insists, then — mostly because he knows she's actively listening to him, but also because he can't allow his fucking hormones distract him from what's really important right now.
"You deserve to be treated so much better than the way he treats you."
She stays still, frozen in front of him.
So he places his hands on the back of her knees and gently squeezes her. Briefly, though. Just one time. Just to make sure he gets her attention when he asks, "You know that, right?"
Gianna shrugs, then. And Harry catches the moment her bottom lip trembles. And how her breath quivers when she exhales.
"Hey," he says, squeezing her again. "Sorry, love. Don't wanna make you cry."
He's crossing the line.
He shouldn't touch her like this.
He knows that.
Even if it's an innocent hold on top of her clothes. Even if she barely notices it. Even if it means nothing to her.
Because he notices. He feels her body under his palm, and he feels the way her flesh sinks when he digs each one of his fingertips to get her attention.
And he notices how she fits perfectly into his grip. And now he can't stop thinking how there isn't even an inch of her body he doesn't want to squeeze and feel just like this, but also way, way more.
"I'm not—It's not…" Gianna says (or tries to say).
Harry blinks, and loosens up his craving fingers.
Gianna shakes her head and opens her eyes, looking at him again. "He didn't look for me, y'know? I've been here all this time and he didn't… Not even a text."
Harry doesn't know what to say to that, so he brushes his thumb up and down once. Trying to comfort her. Trying to sooth her. Trying to remind her he is there, and he is listening to her. He is taking care of her.
"Something could've happened to me and he just… He just doesn't care at all."
He repeats the movement of his fingers one more time, and when she still doesn't seem to mind or be bothered by it, he repeats it again. Over and over. Drawing small, tiny circles on the back of her knees.
"'M sorry, love."
"I hate him."
And this time, Harry genuinely believes her.
"Me too," he says, keeping the steady stroke of his thumbs.
"He's just so fucking stupid."
"He is. Most fucking stupid guy I've—"
"And he broke up with me!"
Harry shuts his mouth.
What?
He did what?!
"It was so… Humiliating…" Gianna laughs, painfully, shortly and bitterly. And then the first tear rolls down her cheek, and although she quickly wipes it off, it's like she can't stop the next ones from following the exact same path.
Holy shit.
"Gi," Harry whispers.
She shakes her head and looks down to his chest, or maybe to his thighs, or just to anywhere in between them that doesn't include his eyes. She sniffs once, and, amidst new tears, she finally shares with him the one thing she's been avoiding to face the entire night.
"I don't… I don't even know what I did this time. Honestly… He came early to set everything up, so Crystal gave me a ride and… And then when we arrived he just… I just went to say hello to him… I didn't… He just broke up with me, H… Out of nowhere, and in front of everyone."
Jesus Christ.
There are suddenly a lot of things to unpack.
Too many things to point out. Too many things to ask.
Questions.
Yes.
So many questions.
Hundreds of them.
But the first one he blurts out is, "Crystal is here?"
Gianna sniffs, rubbing both hands on her cheeks, and nods.
"Angela too?"
"Yes."
Harry frowns. "Well, and where are they right now?"
"I don't know."
He can feel his muscles twitching. The urge to crack his knuckles and run after those two little b—
"Were they there when it happened?"
Gianna nods.
"And do they know you're here? Did they at least try to reach out to you?"
"I don't—I don't know, H…" she murmurs, dropping her arms to her sides and fidgeting with her fingers. "And to be honest I don't care… I don't want to see them… They'll tell me it was nothing… That he didn't mean it… And then they'll say I should forgive him and I just… I don't… I can't…"
Harry shuffles on the bathtub, and suddenly he's awfully aware of how much he'll, sooner or later, regret sitting there for so long. Still, right now, as he leans just a little bit closer to her, that's definitely the least of his worries.
"You can't forgive him, Gi," he pleads. "Not this time. Not after all this."
"I know… I know I can't… I just…"
She shakes her head, and Harry twitches his fingers around her knees. Digging them slightly, begging her not to stop. Not now. Not after all the progress they've made.
"What? Tell me… I'm here, yeah? I'm listening."
She takes one hand to her forehead and rubs the tips of her fingers from one side to the other. As if trying to slide the words out of her brain.
"I'm just… Scared."
"Ok…" Harry tilts his head, searching for her eyes. "Scared of what, love? Of him? Because you know I'll never let—"
"No." She shakes her head. "I'm not scared of him… It's not—Ugh… Look, I don't want to keep doing this anymore, okay? I really don't. But I'm… I'm scared I'll end up calling him anyway… And I know I shouldn't, I know that, but I… I mean, I don't know… I just… I don't know…"
"Ok, just breathe, yeah?" He moves his thumbs up and down again, foolishly hoping his touch will be enough to soothe her.
"I don't want to be that girl," she says, then takes a deep breath in, and lets the air out through her mouth. "I swear I don't."
"Ok… That's—"
"I'm scared I'll be, tho. And I don't want to. I don't—"
"Gi, hey… Listen to me."
She stops talking, and she also glances back at him. The look on her face is so scared, though, that it makes Harry's chest hurt.
He sighs, and asks. "Why would you call him, tho, hm?"
Gianna shrugs.
"If you don't want to… And if you're saying you know you shouldn't… Why are you so scared you'll call him anyway?"
"I don't know…"
She looks away again, and Harry notices that, unlike him, the only way she can get the words out of her mind is if she isn't staring at him.
"It's just what I did every other time before… He'll break up with me, then I'll get lonely at home and call him. And then he'll—"
"Wait." Harry frowns. "Just... Hold on a minute. This isn't the first time?"
She looks down to the floor, and shakes her head.
"How many times did he break up with you?"
Gianna laughs — humorlessly, tirelessly, unwillingly.
"Please don't make me answer that."
Harry freezes for a moment, and cautiously watches her. He examines her. Studies her. Trying to find any of the sparks she's usually radiating off her. Or any traces of joy. Or at least some peace in between everything that's happening. But she's just so sad. And she also looks so ashamed, and so scared, that he just… He can't do it anymore.
Honestly.
It's beyond whatever he can handle right now.
So he squeezes the back of her knees and pushes her closer, then leans in and places his head against her belly.
He closes his eyes, and sighs.
Holly shit.
Harry doesn't want to be dramatic, ok? So he'll never admit this out loud, but this shit physically pains him. It just does. He can't grasp his mind around the fact that getting into fights with her, making her cry, and diminishing her ideas wasn't enough for that fucking asshole. That he still needed to mess around with her feelings, and that he got away with it for so long that she now believes she'll end up crawling back to him no matter what.
He also hates the fact that he never knew "breaking up" was a common thing between them. That Gianna wasn't just forgiving all the childish and fucked up things Miles did, but that she was actively calling him up and asking to go back to him. And he doesn't blame her for that, ok? He doesn't. He loves her. So he just… Y'know…
He just…
"Fuck," he murmurs, clenching his teeth. "That fucking son of a bitch."
Gianna breathes in, and Harry feels the way her stomach slowly fills up with air, moving his head along with it. And then she exhales out, heavily and through her nose, and her stomach empties again, and Harry's head follows the movement again.
"I'm sorry, H," she murmurs, too. "I didn't—"
He shakes his head, burying his forehead on the fabric of her overall, and lifts his hands slightly, just an inch above the back of her knees. Being mindful to not overstep, but also deeply struggling to contain himself.
"Please don't apologize," he says, intentionally keeping his voice down. "You didn't do anything wrong."
She places her hands on the back of his head. Softly and gently. Almost like she's unsure of what she's doing.
"It feels like I did, tho."
"You didn't. I promise you didn't."
Gianna doesn't seem to have an answer for that, and she also doesn't seem to know what to do with her hands. Tapping his hair as if she's trying to figure out where to put them.
Harry brushes his thumbs up and down, just like before — although he's now hesitantly venturing himself on the back of her thighs, and that embarrassingly feels way more dangerous and thrilling than whatever he did with (or to) any other person up until then.
And it seems to have some sort of effect on her, too, because she relaxes underneath him. Her muscles seem to loosen up, and she finally drops the weight of her palms on the back of his head.
Next thing he knows, Gianna's already threading her fingers through his hair. Running her nails over his scalp, and entertaining herself while fiddling with his curls.
Harry smiles, and slows down under her touch. His breathing follows the rhythm of her hands, and his heart is loud and heavy, but it doesn't seem to squash his chest anymore. It's not painful anymore.
Time goes by unnoticed. And it's like the world around them doesn't even exist anymore.
It's good.
And it's new.
And it's peaceful.
And it's refreshing.
So much so that, when Gianna speaks again, even the pain and the sadness in her voice sound lighter.
"I hate myself for calling him," she says, keeping up with the strokes on his head, "and I really don't want to do it again."
Harry nods.
"I'm scared I will anyway, H…"
He squeezes her once, just to let her know he's listening, and then he rummages through his brain, trying to find something useful to say.
He can't say he understands her fear, because he isn't sure he does. What he knows is that he always struggled to say no to Gianna, and that no matter how hard he tried he was never able to let her go. But he can't compare both situations, can he? After all, she never played with his feelings, because she doesn't know about them. Miles, on the other hand, was pretty much aware of the relationship they were in. Miles knew what he was doing, and Miles actively chose to string her along.
So, no, it is not the same thing.
On top of that… Harry can't imagine her calling him out of nowhere. Not when she's so sure she doesn't want him anymore. Not when she's so sure she hates him.
Unless… Well, is she still in love with him? Is that why she thinks she'll go back to him? Because she loves him so much that she'll miss him?
No… C'mon… She doesn't.
Does she?
Shit.
Certainly, it's not his place to answer that, but it doesn't feel like she's in love with the guy. It feels like she's used to being with him, but because she doesn't know anything better.
Besides, he's never seen her so determined to put an end to the relationship. This is the first time he's seen it written all over her face. It's also the first time she's called him because Miles broke up with her, and the first time she even told him it happened. So how… How can she still be so unsure of herself?
Harry pulls away and blinks his eyes open. Adjusting to the bright cool light, and also searching for her eyes.
Gianna slides her hands off his hair and rests them on his shoulders. Holding herself onto him while she tilts her chin down and meets his stare.
"I know you said you called him every other time before, but… Did you also feel like this the other times?"
She frowns, and it's enough for him to already know the answer. Still, he waits for her, and lets her come to a conclusion on her own.
"I don't… Think so? I mean, no. It feels… Different this time."
Fuck yeah it does.
Just look at them!
Harry wants to chuckle, but he knows he can't, and he knows he shouldn't, so he breathes in deeply and shrugs.
"So maybe this time it will be different, yeah?" he asks, then takes a chance and drags his palms another inch further up on the back of her thighs.
Gianna takes a tiny step closer to him, and he's more than happy to take that as a little victory.
"Maybe… But I don't know if I have so much faith in myself."
"Why not, Gi? If you know he's such an idiot, and you know you don't wanna go back to him, why do you still think you will?"
"Because I'm that stupid, H. Because apparently I can't—"
"Stop," he says, and squeezes the back of her thighs
Gianna gasps softly, and widens her eyes.
Shit.
Although Harry always tries to be gentle, he knows his grip ended up being tighter than he originally meant to. He can feel it on the way his nails are digging into her flesh, and on the way he's also flexing his arms.
Part of him wants to apologize and put some distance between them before she can do it herself. Before she realizes what's happening and tell him to fuck off.
The other part, though, knows it's too late to go back from whatever he already did tonight, and that so far the truth is the only road that seems to be actually taking him somewhere.
So Harry straightens up his back and keeps his hands in the exact same place, firm and steady.
He doesn't take anything back, nor pretends it isn't actually happening.
"I can't let you do this to yourself, ok?" he says. "Because you're not stupid."
Gianna blinks.
"You're the most fascinating woman I've ever met," he adds, because now that he's started he doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself anymore. "You're kind, and smart, and creative, and funny."
He loosens up one hand and pulls it away, but only to take it up to her face and brush his thumb under her eyes.
"You're so beautiful, Gi," he says, cleaning some of her smudged makeup.
"So, so beautiful…" He strokes her cheek, and then under her other eye. "That you're just… You're breathtaking."
She blinks again, and again, and again. As if trying to absorb the information not only through her ears, but also through her eyes.
And Harry likes the way she's listening to him, the way she's leaning closer. The way she's softening in front of him. He doesn't know what it means, but he knows he likes it. So he keeps going, choosing to only stop if she asks him to.
"And you're constantly blowing my mind, for whatever reason." He drops his hand again, placing it on the back of her thigh, where it feels they belong now. "Your ideas, your point of views, your actions… Everything, Gi. Everything you do is just… Amazing. You are amazing."
She flickers her eyes around his face, and Harry gives her time to do so. He waits for her. Brushing his thumbs up and down. Subtly caressing the back of her thighs.
"I don't… I don't know what to say."
"It's ok…" He smiles. Softly. Fondly. "You don't have to say anything."
Gianna shrugs. She picks his t-shirt between her fingers, fidgeting with it while still watching him.
"Kinda feels like I have to. I mean, those are… Y'know… Really nice things to say about someone."
"I know. Yes." He smiles bigger, and nods. "Want me to say them again?"
She rolls her eyes, but it's easy to catch the way her mouth tries to curl into a smile as well. Or the way some cheerfulness brightens up her face.
And there she is again…
Harry tilts his head, hooked and charmed by the way she looks. By the woman she is.
Chest warm and fuzzy.
Head over the moon.
Pathetically in love.
"I think very highly of you, Gi."
"You do?"
"Mhmm… You should know that by now."
She drums her fingers on his shoulders, and he brushes his thumbs on the back of her thighs.
"This is… I mean…"
"What?"
"Ugh." She groans, throwing her head back and glancing at the ceiling. "I don't know. I'm just really confused right now."
"Oh. It's... It's ok," he says, eyes suddenly too focused and mind too distracted.
Her neck is pretty, isn't it? And her skin looks the sweetest, softest place he could lay his lips on.
Harry swallows.
He looks down, and meets her chest — which only makes it worse.
Fuck.
He closes his eyes, and shakes his head.
When he looks at her again, she's thankfully already facing down and staring back at him. Making it easier for him to talk again.
"Don't wanna confuse you right now," he says, then clears his throat. "It's not the right time to reveal all of my thoughts about you, anyway."
"All of your thoughts about me? What—How many do you have?"
Harry chuckles. She's so fucking cute.
"Not today, yeah?"
She narrows her eyes. "Harry…"
He shrugs. "Look, all you need to know right now is that you're not stupid. And I know you're scared, but this time you have me by your side, yeah? And I won't let that son of a bitch hurt you again. Ok?"
"I appreciate that, but you don't have to—"
"Gi. Ok?"
She sighs.
"Okay."
"Good."
A beat of silence echoes between them.
Gianna and Harry fill it by staring at each other. Consciously ignoring the fact that time is ticking by. And also ignoring the fact that, although they probably should feel awkward by whatever is going on right now, they actually don't feel awkward at all.
And then clattering and shattering thunder from downstairs, and Gianna and Harry jolt. They both turn their heads to face the door, waiting for something to happen. And when people seem to erupt into desperate cheering and yelling, they both turn again, and look at each other. Again.
"Do you think it'll be okay if I spend the night at yours?" she asks. "Most of my things are at Miles' and I… I don't know. To be honest I don't want to spend the night at my place."
Harry nods. "Yeah, of course. You can sleep back at mine."
He rolls his shoulders, then tilts his head to one side, and to the other.
"Do you think it'll be ok if we leave this place right now, tho?" he asks, brushing his palms up and down the back of her thighs, then sliding them to gently tap the sides of her legs. "Can't stand this place anymore."
"Yeah." Gianna smiles, and squeezes his shoulders. "We should go."
"Great." He squeezes her legs, and brushes his thumbs in wide, slow circles. "Good."
She nods and slides her hands down his shoulders, letting her fingers brush down his chest. "Mhmm…"
"We'll go, then." He spreads his legs even wider and nudges her forward, holding her legs tightly while forcing her to take a step closer.
"We will." She draws her hands back to his shoulders, fully holding onto him. "Whenever you want to."
Harry closes his eyes and leans forward, pressing his face to her stomach, and then a kiss on top of her clothes. Without pulling away, he groans against the green fabric, then murmurs, "You're not making this any easier for me, y'know?"
Gianna chuckles, allowing her hands to timidly explore his back. "I swear to God I have no idea what's going on right now."
He pulls away, tilting his chin up and looking at her. "We'll have plenty of time to figure it out. But right now, let's just get the fuck out of here. Please."
"Okay," she says, and smiles, but doesn't make any attempt to actually move.
"Ugh." He grabs her waist and pushes her off, standing up and stumbling along with her feet as they both step away from the bathtub.
She bites her lip and giggles, and it honestly takes absolutely everything inside him to not kiss her right then and there.
"C'mon," he says, finding her hand and holding it tightly. "Let's take this back to mine."
Hiii :)
Someone sent me a request back in 2022 and I came up with 85% of this. Then last week I decided to finish it and finally post it (always better late than never, huh? hehe).
There are soooo many things I have in mind for this one, so many things I haven't explored yet, and so many things that I intentionally left unanswered... But for now, this right here, is all I have, and I wanted to share it anyway :) I'm basically just challenging myself and my overthinking, so let's hope I don't regret it lol.
ANYWAY, thanks for reading.
Dani.
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Dear Younger Me
My piece for the @harringrove-relay-race!!!
I'm now passing the baton on to @oopsiedaisiesbaby! I can’t wait to see what you’ve written!
4k - M
***
When Billy’s therapist had first assigned him the project, to write letters to his younger self detailing the twists and turns his life would take, and how he’d somehow managed to navigate them and get to a place where he could truly call himself happy, he’d laughed, because frankly, it sounded like a waste of time.
He knew he was happy and successful, so what good would it do to tell the long gone, scared, angry seventeen year old version of himself about it? But the more he wrote, filling page after page with his messy scrawl, the more he felt that he could let go of all the hurt and pain of his youth. It felt good. So good, in fact, that he’d allowed himself to be talked into giving Steve the letters to read.
Now though, as he stands on Steve’s front porch, he feels a really strong urge to run. It’s too late though, he’s already rung the doorbell, and he can hear Steve’s approaching footsteps. There’s no way he’d get back into his car and out of sight before Steve opens the door. He takes a deep breath, holding the stack of letters in front of himself.
“Hey Billy,” Steve greeted him, a grin spreading over his face, looking unfairly sexy, shirtless on this hot summer night. “To what do I owe the pleasure of a visit from you at 10pm on a Tuesday?”
“Uhhhh,” Billy replies, almost chickening out and saying he was in the neighbourhood and in the mood for some company and a beer, knowing Steve won’t ask questions, good guy that he is, but he knows that its important for Steve to read the letters, for Billy to let him in, if he ever wants to be more than friends with the man. Steve’s made it clear that he wants Billy, so the ball is firmly in Billy’s court. So, he takes another deep breath and hands the envelopes to Steve. “I want you to read these. Or my therapist does. But I do too. Just read them, okay, pretty boy?” With that, he walks away before Steve can answer.
***
At first, Steve’s confused when his doorbell rings at 10pm, and then he’s excited when he finds Billy on his front porch. They usually hang out pretty steadily, grabbing beers after work, having BBQs with Max and Lucas, watching endless movies, and hiking in the woods on the edge of town, but lately, every time Steve asks Billy to do anything, he claims that he’s busy working on a project, but won’t tell Steve any details about it. He’s starting to worry that Billy’s trying to freeze him out.
His excitement turns back to confusion when Billy hands him a stack of envelopes, telling him to read what’s inside of them, but he does as he’s told, grabbing the beer that he’d cracked open just before the doorbell had rung and taking it out to the backyard, turning on the patio lights so he can read.
He pulls a small stack of papers from the first envelope, unfolding them to find a letter.
“Dear younger me,
I know you’re upset right now. It’s not easy leaving your friends, your school, the ocean, the only home you’ve ever known behind to move to the middle of butt fuck nowhere. I won’t lie, it’s going to suck at first. Neil’s been with Susan long enough that he isn’t putting a show on in front of her anymore. He’s going to yell and threaten you and get in your face.
Starting at a new school is going to be terrifying, and it’s good to put on a brave face, to not show fear, but try to remember that it’s ok to admit that everything isn’t ok sometimes. Even if it’s just to yourself, curled up in your bed late at night. Let the tears fall, I promise you’ll feel better afterwards.
It won’t be long until you meet Steve Harrington, the king of Hawkins High. You’re going to be such a dick to him, and he’s going to spend a long time hating you for it. You’re going to spend a long time hating yourself for it. You’ll eventually work your way to friendship, but you’ll save a lot of time if you don’t spend your entire senior year of high school treating him like he’s dirt on the bottom of your shoes.
Because you can’t manage to get your head out of your ass, Steve’s going to push, rightfully so, and you’re going to pull, until the tension’s going to come to a head at Harrington’s graduation party. The night’s going to start with the two of you throwing barbs back and forth and end with you on your knees in the Harrington’s pool house, Steve’s cock between your lips. You’re barely even going to stay long enough for him to finish cumming, to scared to see what’ll happen in the aftermath, but you really should. Tell him how you feel about him, tell him that the way you treated him all year was an act, a way to protect your heart, and his response just might surprise you. You never know.”
Steve has to stop reading for a minute, his face flushing as he thinks back to his graduation night, how good Billy had looked on his knees, looking up at Steve as his tongue swirled around the head of his cock. He remembers how strong the urge to run his hands through Billy’s hair had been, but it had seemed too intimate an action, so he’d resisted, as hard as it had been. He’d wanted to reciprocate, but Billy had fled the scene before Steve could even catch his breath, not to be seen again for three years, until Neil and Susan Hargrove had died. He picks the letter back up, curious to see how it will end, and what will be in the next one.
“You’re going to blame yourself for a lot of what comes after. You’re going to tell yourself that if you’d stayed, if you hadn’t hightailed it back to California while the ink on your diploma was still drying, if you’d stayed, even just for Max, and nothing else, or if you’d finally stood up to Neil for once, things would have turned out differently. Please try as hard as you can to be kind to yourself. I promise you didn’t cause this, that nothing you could have done would have stopped Neil from being an asshole.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
You just found out that Dad and Susan died, and you’re going to have a lot of mixed emotions about that. Relief that Neil can’t hurt you, can’t hurt anyone anymore, grief, as you mourn the dad you never got to have, regret, that you weren’t there to take the keys out of Neil’s hands that night when he drank too much and decided that Susan was cheating on him instead of going out to a girl’s night at the bar, sadness, for Max, who, at only seventeen, has no parents left, only has you to take care of her, when you can barely take care of yourself on the best of days.
It's going to be tough, I’m not going to lie. You and Max are going to fight about anything and everything. She’s going to blame you for this, and it’s going to take a long time for her to apologize, and it’s going to hurt, even though you blame yourself too.
You have to stay strong, though. Strong for yourself, and for Max. You need to put down the bottle and find a good job so you can take care of Max and yourself. It’ll be hard to even make yourself get out of bed most days, but you have to grin and bear it. I promise it’ll eventually get easier, even if it doesn’t seem like it right now. It’ll all be worth it when you see her walk across the stage with her diploma.
Love,
Billy”
As soon as he’s one reading the second letter, Steve folds it up and slips it back into its envelope and takes out the third letter, eager to see where this is going, to find out why he’s being asked to read them. He takes a sip of his beer and settles in for the long haul.
“When Max is twenty one, she’s going to call you and tell you that she’s dropping out of college to work at the garage with you and help you work towards your goal of buying it from Mr. Dennis when he retires, and you’re going to feel like a failure, like all your hard work, all the hours you put in at the shop to help pay for her education are going to waste. You’re going to fight long and hard about whether she’s fucking up her life, and you’re going to say a lot of things that you regret, but you need to remember that she’s an adult now, and she’s smart, and she knows what’s right for herself.
You won’t want to admit it, even to yourself, but you know you’re going to be happy to have her back where you can keep an eye on her, instead of way out in Boston. There’ll be growing pains at first, as you both get used to living together again, but it’ll be nice to have someone else around the house again.
And be nice to Lucas when Max has him over. He’s a good guy when he’s not being a smartass, and trust me, you’re going to need him later. Show him a little respect, and you’ll save yourself a lot of embarrassment later.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
Two years after you finally take over ownership of the shop, just as you’re really starting to feel like the place is yours, Max is going to beg you to let her renovate the attached luncheonette and run a small diner and bakeshop out of it.
You’re going to resist for so long, finding a million reasons why she shouldn’t do it. The kitchen requires too much work, there won’t be enough customers for it to be profitable, she should be doing something better with her life than planting her roots so firmly in Hawkins. You worked hard so she can get out, and you don’t want to enable her sticking around.
Trust me, it’s going to be easier if you just give in. She may be stubborn, but she’s right, the place is going to be a huge success, and you’re going to wonder why you didn’t let her have at it sooner. That is, until two weeks after the diner opens, on the night of the launch party, Max is going to get drunk and take your motorcycle out and crash it.
She’s going to survive, but just barely. It’s going to be a very long road to recovery, and that’s where the thing I mentioned earlier about being nice to Lucas will come in. He’s the only one that’s going to be there for you in the early days, when you’re trying to keep two business afloat and be at the hospital with Max. He’s going to take a year off from school to work in the diner and the garage when you need to be with Max and be with Max when you need to be at the diner and garage. You’re going to be each other’s rocks when it gets to be too much, and you’re going to be embarrassed about how you treated him before if you don’t stop treating him like shit right now. I know I’ve already said this a lot, but trust me.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
I know that more than anything, you’ll want to make sure that Max’s diner stays open, that it’s there for her when she gets better, but you’re too stubborn to ask for help, and too busy to have it open enough hours in a day to turn a profit, so you’ll think about throwing in the towel and just focusing on the garage.
Tired and frustrated, you’ll head to Chicago one evening to blow off some steam at a bar. You’ll think to yourself that you’ll just go for a few drinks, and maybe if you’re lucky, you’ll find someone to take to whatever shitty hotel you can find a room in for the night, but instead, what you find in there, or rather who you find in there, is going to change everything for you.
Standing near the bar nursing a bottle of beer is Steve Harrington, looking every bit as pretty as he did back in high school. You’re going to try to turn around and run like the coward that you are, but Steve’s going to spot you before you can head out. Caught, you’re going to let him buy you a beer and sit and catch up.
He’s going to tell you how he feels lost after dropping out of law school, a failure in his father’s eyes, how scary it is to not feel that much more mature at twenty five than he did at eighteen. You’re going to tell him about your dad and Susan, and Max’s accident, how it feels like you have the weight of the world on your shoulders, with no one there except Lucas to occasionally lighten the load.
He tells you that drinks are on him for the night, and he orders another round, and another and another, until you’re both shitfaced and stumbling towards his nearby apartment. On the way, you tell him that unless you get some money fast, you’re going to have to sell the diner, and then you forget you said anything as he asks if he can kiss you in the elevator.
You’re going to have a moment of panic, as Steve presses you up against the door of his apartment and runs his lips all over your throat, about whether this is the right thing to do or not. You think that it might be best to turn around and forget this ever happened.
Don’t. Stay, have fun with the hottest guy you could ever hope to be with, and create enough jerk off material to last you the rest of your life. Ever the gentleman, he’ll ask if he can take you to bed. You’ll both lose your breath laughing as he tries to carry you there and fails miserably, and you’ll smile to yourself every time you think about that moment.
Once you get to his room, you’re going to have to fight the urge to do all the work. You keep telling yourself that Steve deserves to be worshiped, but he’s going to insist that you sit back and enjoy it, and you should listen to someone else for once.
He’s going to do things you didn’t even know someone could do with their mouth, leaving your moaning, hands twisting in the bedsheets, and your eyes will roll back in your head as he fucks you six ways to Sunday. Afterwards, he’ll clean you both up and hold you in his arms while he snores softly in your ear, and you’ll think about how nice it is to be taken care of, that you could get used to it.
By morning, you’ll have talked yourself out of it. You don’t deserve this, you don’t have time for this, it’s too much, you’re not enough, and you’ll sneak out before Steve wakes, feeling like an idiot as you walk back to your car with your hair all stuck up in the back, knowing that everyone giving you side eye as they walk down the sidewalk with a coffee and a briefcase knows what you were up to last night.
You’ll be embarrassed, but relieved that you got out of Steve’s place without having to have an awkward morning after conversation. You’ll open up the shop for the day and put all your energy into working on the cars and running into the diner to check on Lucas and the lone waitress in between appointments, but no matter how hard you try, you’re not going to be able to take your mind off Steve, how he looked the night before, looking down at you with his big brown doe eyes as he asked you if it felt good. Part of you is going to wish you hadn’t left his place, but you know it’s for the best.
The days will keep marching on, until a couple weeks after you have your run-in with Steve, when you’ll get a call from the bank. You prepare yourself for the worst, sure that they’re calling you to tell you that it’s time to give up the diner, but no, they have a potential investor, and they want to meet with the two of you.
You show up at the bank feeling ridiculous in your one pair of khakis and your best button up, and of course, the first person you see when you enter the bank is Steve Fucking Harrington, grinning wide at you as he chats up a teller. You want to turn around, but you can’t, because this idiot is your only way to keep the diner alive.
When you ask him why, why he would do this for you, when you’ve just been an asshole to him. He says it’s not for you, it’s for Max, and for Steve himself, because his dad apparently has no problem writing a huge cheque to invest in the diner if it means that Steve won’t be sitting idle any longer.
You’re not going to be sure how involved Steve plans on actually being involved in the day to day running of the diner, but you definitely don’t expect him to show up two days later, apron and baseball cap on, ready to work his first shift. He’s going to suck, dropping plates, burning food, forgetting to dress burgers before they go out to hungry customers.”
Steve has to laugh at how right Billy is. He was just about the worst waiter and cook to have ever worked in a restaurant. He had no clue what he was doing, and there were many days where he was surprised that Billy didn’t kick him out, no matter how badly he needed the help, and there were a lot of other days where Steve was ready to throw in the towel, but he’d kept with it, determined not to give up on this like he had on law school, and he liked knowing he was lightening Billy’s load, even if it only got him groans of frustration and sighs of despair in return. Over time, he thankfully got better at both tasks, finding that he was actually a pretty good cook. He picks the letter back up, eager to get through the rest of the shortening stack.
“I promise the shitty times will end though. Soon, you won’t be able to imagine the place without Harrington there, telling bad jokes and bringing you coffee when your eyes start to droop in the evening, after you’ve had a long day at the shop and the diner, and then still need to go check in on Max.
Eventually, Max will be released from the hospital, and you’ll be happier than ever to have Steve around, to help Lucas moderate arguments between you and Max, while you get comfortable giving Max small freedoms, and she comes to understand why you’re so scared to let her out of your sight.
When Lucas finally has to go back to school, Mrs. Sinclair will try to step in and pick up shifts at the diner, and at first, you’re going to push back. You don’t want to take any more time and energy from that poor family, and you’re sure she has better things to do than do Max’s bidding as Max sits on a chair behind the counter telling her what to do.
Steve talks you into letting her stay, though. You need the help, and she’s willing to give it, and it’s another lesson in accepting that people care about you and Max and letting them help you. Between Mrs. Sinclair, Steve, you, and Max, as she starts to get stronger, along with Erica Sinclair waiting tables after school and on weekends, replacing your waitress who decided to go back to school, the diner actually starts to turn a profit, based on great food and fast, friendly service. When Lucas comes home for Christmas, he jokes that he can’t recognize the diner with more than a couple customers in it. For the first time, you’re going to feel like everything will be ok.
I promise you, things only keep getting better from here.
Love,
Billy”
“Dear younger me,
Now that you have your professional life somewhat under control, of course, you’re going to turn your attention to your personal life for the first time in a long time. I can tell you it won’t be easy to take that first step and finally accept that you need therapy. Nobody wants to admit that they need help, so it’s going to be a long battle of talking yourself in and out of it, but I can also tell you that once you commit to going regularly, and putting in the work to help yourself, things are going to be so much better.
You’re going to rush into things with Steve, but it’s important that you take time for yourself, to figure your shit out first. If Steve want this as bad as he’s been saying he does, then he’ll respect that you’re not ready yet, and wait until you are.”
Steve takes another sip of his drink, shaking his head at his own behaviour. To say he badly wants a relationship with Billy is the understatement of the century, and he’s far from quiet about it, confessing almost daily to Billy that he’s crazy about him, wants to date the heck out of him, hold his hand when they watch movies, make him dinner, tell anyone that’ll listen that Billy is his.
But for all of his enthusiastic rambling, he’s more than willing to wait until Billy’s ready. He doesn’t want to rush things, because he wants Billy to want it as much as he does, wants his heart to truly be in it. He doesn’t want Billy to date him just because it’s what Steve wants.
Over the past year, Steve’s come to learn that Billy’s not only literally the hottest guy Steve’s ever seen, he’s also selfless, caring, hilarious, hardworking, and secretly sweet, and Steve needs him like he needs air, so yeah, he’ll wait. He continues to read.
“My best advice for when thinking about Steve gets to be too much. Take a deep calming breath, a cold shower, or if that doesn’t work, think about seeing the ancient librarian at the public library naked. That should be more than enough to cool you down.
Love,
Billy”
Steve picks up the last letter, and slipping it out of its envelope, he unfolds it, noticing that it’s a lot shorter than the rest.
“Dear future me,
I know you’re panicking right now, sitting on your couch, biting your nails and nursing a beer, while you wait for Steve to read through the letters that you handed him tonight. You want him to know that you’re ready now, as ready as you’ll ever be to let him in, let yourself be loved and love him in return, and you can only hope that he feels the same way as he did this afternoon when he told you that he can’t wait to wife you up, whatever that means. Try to calm down. It’ll be ok.
So, hey Steve, if you’ve gotten this far, I’m ready. Bring your jammies, and we can have a sleepover. I promise not to run in the morning, and if you wake up early enough to make me cum a second time before breakfast, I’ll make you pancakes before we head into work.
Love,
Billy”
Steve slips on a pair of sandals and grabs his keys, running so fast for his car that he doesn’t realize until he’s halfway down the driveway that he’s not wearing a shirt. It doesn’t matter though. He’s gotta see about a boy.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#billy x steve#harringrove fic#chrisbitchtree writes#harringrove relay race
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Forbidden Fruit
-> A thing that is desired all the more because it is not allowed
Lena x French!reader
Laura Freigang x French!reader
Lena was in town, due to a game she had against Bayern. So it was one of the few chances she had to hang out with her friends. After the game on Saturday the girls decided to throw a get together, that ended up in a wild party.
"Lena! I'm so happy you're here!" - Jule was the first to notice her arrive.
"Hey guys!" - she said happily.
"Soon enough you'll be here with us so, cheers to that." - Said Syd.
You were hanging out with the girls you were closer with in the kitchen while the others were in the dining room.
When you noticed a girl you knew, and that you unfortunately didn't know personally. She came in to grab a drink.
"Hey can I get you anything?" - You said it naturally as you usually were the one responsible for bar tendering for everyone.
"Just a beer." - She said giving you a smile.
And she thanked you quickly as you handled it to her. She had the most gorgeous chocolate brown eyes you had ever seen. She went back to wherever she came from, and you resumed your chatting and wine sipping.
A little while later, you left for the restroom.
As you here about to go in, Lena had come out.
"Hey, I think we haven't met yet, I'm Lena."
"I'm Y/N."
"I'm a fan, by the way." - giving you a wink you were not expecting.
"Why, thank you." - you said returning a smile. You both had a flirty semblance on at this point. But it only lasted a few seconds since you needed to use the restroom desperately.
"I really need to pee so, excuse me."
As you came out the bathroom, you decided to stop by the dining room.
"Hey love!" - Said Laura, your girlfriend. "Y/N meet Lena, Lena this is my girlfriend Y/N." - As she said that Lena chocked on her beer, trying to sort herself out best she could.
"We met in line for the bathroom just now." - you said it softly as Lena plastered a unsure smile on her face.
She knew who you were, but she didn't know you were dating her friend, differently from you, who knew who she was and who she was friends with.
In truth it hadn't even crossed your mind when you two had talked, it was so natural, it happened absentmindedly. And you meant no harm by it.
Or did you?
Obi knew it was terrible to admit that, even after knowing you were dating her friend, she still felt attracted to you.
"Well, I'm going back to the kitchen."
She had such an effect on you, that, that same night you dreamed of her.
What you didn't know was that, you were not the only one that was left shaken up, after the party.
That was until she dm'ed you on insta.
Couldn't sleep last night
Yeah me either.
Why didn't you tell me you weren't single?
Would that have made such a difference? Now you know, but you still texted me.
True.
I just can't get your smile out of my head.
Can't get your beautiful eyes off my mind either.
They are just brown?
Are you fucking with me right now?
They are the prettiest shade of chocolate I have ever seen.
No, but I really wish I was.
Lena!
I know, I know. I'm sorry.
After that, you two had become somewhat friends. And you both knew it was wrong. Mainly because you knew it had more to it, than just that. Even if nothing more had happened between you guys.
But once the Nation's League Semi final came up, you didn't know if you should be freaking out, that you were seeing Lena again, or if you should be freaking out that the only thing you could do was look at her and shake her hand.
Now it was Germany against France. And you tried to push your feelings away, and focus on the game.
Lena did the same, only she wasn't as successful at it.
The game was frenetic from the start, the atmosphere was hot and loud.
And it only got more intense as both teams denied each other of the first goal of the match.
But a the 41 minute mark, Diani made it 1-0 with an insane kick from the edge of the box after a free-kick from Bacha, that didn't go through the defense.
You all ran to celebrate, almost euphoric from how hard it was to score.
During the last few seconds of the added time, Oberdorf took Geyoro down on a promissory attack, inside the box, earning your team a penalty and herself a yellow card.
Karchaoui was the one to take the penalty. Frohms almost managed to stop the ball, but couldn't.
And it was another goal for France.
And thats when half time came. You could see the defeat expression in all the girl's faces. Including your girlfriend's. But instead of looking for her, to give her some comfort, you immediately went to Lena. You knew she most likely blamed herself for that one.
"Hey!" - You said hanging your arm around her shoulder. "If you hadn't stopped that ball, it would've probably been a goal. It was a lose-lose situation. At least you tried to do something about it." - you gave her the best smile you could, but it didn't do much for her. It didn't lessen the blame she felt.
The second half was equally as heated and frustrating for the germans until in the last 10 minutes, when an Henry handball gave them a penalty kick, Gwinn scored. They had so many close calls, almost managing the equalizer.
And as the game reached the end, for the first time ever, France had managed to beat Germany in a competitive match.
You tried giving Laura a hug but she just pushed you away.
"Not now, Y/N!"
That didn't go unnoticed by Oberdorf, who was already fuming.
"Don't treat her like that!"
"Oh shut up Lena! If you hadn't given them a penalty, we could of won."
"At least I tried doing something about it." - She repeated what you had said to her earlier.
"Something about what? The game or my girlfriend?"
"Don't start."
"You thought I didn't see you two eye fucking each other as you greeted?"
"You clearly don't deserve her, so."
By now they were full on fighting. The worse part was, everyone around heard it. You felt so angry and embarrassed.
"Laura stop! This isn't going to lead anywhere!" - Trying to calm her down.
"Oh of course you're defending her! You know what? Fuck the both of you! Fuck, get married, have kids! I don't care, we are over!"
Everyone around was a bit shocked. Including you. But soon the crowd dispersed.
"I'm so sorry about her."
"The way she acts is not on you. At least now we have her blessing." - ending it with a small laugh.
"Lena that's not funny." - you tried to hold it together.
"It kinda is, admit it." - you gave in and let out a laugh.
"You should be crying, you lost the game."
"Yeah, but I won you."
This one I'm pretty proud of! 🩷
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Hii!!! i really love all your writing and wanted to request smth if that's okay!
could i request law x so who's into lolita fashion/subculture? Like, on days that they're able to they'll wear really extravagant looking lolita dresses and such, and is just overall really girly, and might be embarrassed about being such, esp with someone like him. but maybe he even likes that they're aesthetic opposites. idk fjsjfjfk
Ty!! <3
(idk if i need to say this but lolita fashion doesn't have anything to do with the. other uses of the term. sometimes ppl make accusations abt it but the jfashion and book are not related)
Lolita Style S/O w/ Law
Content: can be read as GN reader that wears skirts, all SFW
Notes* Thanks for being patient with me while I worked on this request! A couple of things popped up for me (and my new-used computer quit suddenly so I have to wait to see if it can be repaired or if I should just buy a brand new one) so I’ve been trying to work around this. Back to mobile tumblr I go 😢 ! Anyway- I know all too well how lolita culture gets sexualized in people’s eyes so this is a completely nsfw-free request. I made this more relatable to those in sweet style lolita more than gothic lolita since you’d commented about them being opposites and personally, I think it would be super cute for him to be paired with someone with this style. Hope you like it :)
Law
Law isn’t the type to pay attention to what people wear as long as they are dressed in proper uniform when need be. Self expression is something personal, and he’s aware of different everyone’s style is
Though he finds it hard not to notice how you dress on your days off, whether it’s just around the sub or out on the town
It’s a lot of pastel, and a lot of fabric
You hadn’t thought of what Law or the others might’ve thought the first time you dressed up, so when you kept catching Law staring at you at various points of the day, you started to feel a little nervous
Later though, the two of you had crossed paths and he stopped you there to ask about your choice of clothing
While you explained how you enjoyed the colours and the overly girly feel of it all, he listened to every word, and even asked you some questions- like how everything fit together, and how you chose to match your accessories to your clothes
He was intrigued, and being a knowledgeable man, he wanted to learn about you and your clothing style
He’d even gone off to do his own research at the next island, and secretly commissioned a seamstress to make a little purse modeled after Bepo’s face for your outfits because god knows this guy can’t sew for shit
Law had been waiting for you outside of your door, his present to you held in his hand, in a sweet little bag. You weren’t expecting to see him, nor were you expecting any sort of gift- it was nowhere near your birthday- but here he was. He pushes himself off from leaning against the door when he sees you.
“Here. I’m not sure if it’s alright, but I thought you might be able to use this.”
He hands you the bag, and you thank him before going off about how he didn’t need to get you anything, and asking what the occasion is as you dig through the white, glittery tissue paper to open it.
“No occasion. I just thought you’d like it.” He tries to act nonchalant and calm, but he’s watching your face for any changes to see if you like it or not.
You pull out the bag and gasp- it was perfect. Fluffy and pristine white, perfect for an outfit you’d been trying to put together for a while now- and it looked like your dear crewmate. You pull it to your chest with a big smile, going on a bit of a ramble at how cute it is, and how you’re going to use it right away.
The entire time you’re squealing over your new gift he’s smiling to himself, even if he doesn’t realize it.
The next time you change into your style, you make sure to keep the mini Bepo bag at your side. It goes great with your outfit
Bepo freaks out a little at the likelihood of the purse and his own face, but you quickly calm him down and explain that it’s not the head of a polar bear that you’re carrying around
Law watches you fawn over the bag with him from a distance, smiling to himself
He joins you later to walk around town with you. He’s come to enjoy how your style stands out so well beside him against his usual darker clothes
Law will also help you get dressed if you let him, buckling your shoes for you so you don’t have to fight the layers of skirt to reach your feet, or helping you pin up your hair pieces
You’d asked him once if he’d like to try men’s lolita style and he was very quick to shut that down.
“It looks better on you than it will on me.”
He really just likes seeing you as the unique one
#one piece#harleywritesop#hwop#trafalgar law#law one piece#op law#harleyasks#law x reader#trafalgar d law x reader#trafalgardwaterlaw#trafalgar op#trafalgar one piece
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thinking about spring 2022 when i was in my last semester before graduating college. i was spending all day every day listening to lord huron, going to the river after class, and playing red dead redemption 2. i’d been playing rdr2 that entire year, and my favorite thing to do in the game was (and still is) to just roam in the woods with arthur and spend long stretches of time between missions to find all the smaller details and plots and happenstances that you can stumble on. and i was playing in my apartment i shared with my 3 friends, very well aware that we had limited nights left to watch movies and play games before i graduated, moved home, and didn’t see them anymore beyond the very rare occasions we could all line up our schedules to meet in our college town for a weekend, which i don’t think ever happened. as much as i tried to keep arthur in the woods, the game kind of insists on progressing and i found myself doing missions that pushed me closer and closer to the end. i already knew arthur would die, and i was experiencing like an insanely dramatic sense of dread unlike anything ive ever felt when just partaking in a fictional narrative. i felt like i was running out of time in real life, and then i’d play my cowboy game every night and i felt like arthur was this tangible symbol of time running out, and i felt like when he died that would just be it for this whole stage of my life. and i finished right before graduation and wept the whole time. but………now ive had a scary full time job for a year. and my own apartment. and i don’t get to see all my friends consistently, but some of them i do, and i started a new save file to play all over again with arthur miraculously revived. and i know he’ll die again, if i finish this file, and i know ill move out of this apartment eventually. but i can start a new save file in whatever new place i end up in, and it’s kinda like my little digital cowboy friend can always start over with me <3
#arthur: seems like times are changing… the world don’t want people like us no more….#me crying: i know what you mean arthur they’re gonna force me to graduate college
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this is a prequel of sorts to always on the tip of my tongue! a glimpse into wille and simon's very first taco tuesday. eventually (like, after all of tomt is published, so basically never) this will be one part in a series of mikael pov insights into wilmon's relationship, but i wanted to share this for now! enjoy!! <333
if he likes you, he'll smile
Mikael had been working at Geronimo’s for nearly two months the day that he met Wille and Simon.
He didn’t even think he’d be in the job that long. He had just been laid off from another corporate bullshit position and had been enjoying a proper midlife crisis when another eviction notice forced him to resort to bartending again. Geronimo’s FGT was decidedly not his kind of place. He hated how touristy the area was, hated the shitty bands the owners constantly had in for live entertainment, and more than anything, hated how monotonous the job started feeling just after a couple of weeks.
He wanted to quit. He was seriously considering giving his notice. He nearly did several times, but for whatever reason, he kept hesitating. It was good that he had a job for now, but he was already restless. Something was missing. Mikael didn’t know what he would do or where to go next, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was invisible here. Mikael couldn’t even remember the last time he had an honest-to-God conversation with someone. In this town, the idea of him disappearing forever without a soul noticing he was gone was more reality than fear.
And then, one day, on a Tuesday in autumn just like any other Tuesday, Crown Prince Wilhelm sat at the bar right before him.
Mikael didn’t give a shit about the royal family. He was surprised he even recognized him. He probably only did because Wilhelm was around the same age as Sanna, his daughter. Mikael remembered the headlines when Erik passed away. It was right after Mikael got into that last big argument with Nea before she packed everything they owned, left, and took Sanna with her. He remembered watching the videos of Erik’s funeral on the news, seeing pictures and closeups of Wilhelm, and just thinking about how young he looked.
He still looked young now. His hair was shorter, his face more angular, and he didn’t look sad like he always did when he was on the news. Quite the opposite, really. He had another person with him tonight, a shorter boy who looked even younger, whose smile seemed so bright and genuine that Mikael almost felt blinded by it. As the two boys slid into their respective barstools, bright laughter filled the room, and Mikael thought that today would be different. He didn’t know how, and he didn’t know if the change he felt was necessarily a good one, but it was different.
He wasn’t sure if he was supposed to address the prince in any sort of particular way. For a moment, he thought maybe the prince was trying to be discreet, and he shouldn’t address him at all, but the pair of security staff who followed the duo inside and positioned themselves nearby made it clear that Crown Prince Wilhelm was here. Plus, people around the restaurant noticed him and started staring. All eyes Mikael could see were on Wilhelm.
If the attention bothered Wilhelm and the boy sitting beside him, they didn’t let it show. Mikael couldn’t imagine that it didn’t. He felt awful for the kids. As the stares turned into whispers turned into audible speculation, Mikael felt the urge to yell at everyone to shut the fuck up and leave them alone. But if he was going to quit this job, he at least wanted to do so on good terms so he could still have references. He did not need to have to explain the fact that he was fired because he lost his temper in front of a prince to his next employers.
Realizing that he was staring, too, and was maybe now part of the problem, Mikael cleared his throat, leaning forward on the bar and raising his voice so Wilhelm and his friend could hear him.
“Can I get you boys something to drink?” Mikael asked, trying his best to sound casual and uninterested.
“What do you have with tequila?” Wilhelm asked. His voice was teasing, his smile playful. Mikael was caught off-guard. He hadn’t spent any amount of time thinking about what the Crown Prince might be like, but this young, smiling boy was nothing like what he might have expected.
Mikael didn’t say anything, just narrowed his eyes a little. He picked up a drink menu and placed it down in front of Wilhelm, dragging his finger around the portion of the menu that listed their cocktails and detailed which tequilas they had on the shelf.
Mikael watched Wilhelm’s smile twist into an amused smirk before he looked down at where Mikael was pointing.
“Mmm, I’ll take a ginger beer, please,” Wilhelm’s friend said, reading the drink menu over Wilhelm’s shoulder. Mikael nodded and reached under the bar, opening the cooler and pulling out a glass bottle. He placed it in front of the boy, who smiled at him brightly and thanked him. Exceedingly polite.
Mikael took a moment to size up the prince’s companion. He certainly didn’t seem royal or even royal adjacent. He looked astoundingly normal. While Wilhelm was outfitted stylishly and professionally in a collared shirt and smart sweater, the other boy came simply dressed in jeans and an old hoodie with the drawstring missing. The two boys looked like they came from two different worlds, but at the same time, there was a sort of familiarity and ease between them that felt… right.
“How spicy is the spicy margarita?” Wilhelm asked, looking up at Mikael with a glimmer of mischief in his eyes that Mikael didn’t quite know what to do with.
“No. No, Wille,” the boy cut in before Mikael could even open his mouth to answer. “You can’t keep pretending you like spicy things. You’ll take two sips, spend the rest of dinner complaining about it, and end up wasting the entire drink.”
“You don’t know that,” Wilhelm grumbled, pouting dramatically as he looked back down at the menu.
Mikael had to bite back a chuckle. It was amusing how comfortable the boys seemed with each other. The boy called the prince Wille and teased him knowingly. It was strange, seeing someone so famous casually sat in front of him, so strikingly human. Mikael felt drawn to the prince and his friend, almost like he was a part of their world. Or, maybe stranger, that they were a part of his.
“I’ll order the House Margarita if you can tell me what’s in Geronimo’s Secret Margarita Mix,” Wilhelm said, looking at Mikael with that same playful smile that continued to catch him off guard.
“It’s written in the employee handbook that if we tell someone, we have to kill them,” Mikael said, without thinking. He had a moment of doubt when he thought that maybe threatening violence against a prince might not be the smartest move, but at Wilhelm’s widening smile, he continued. “It also explicitly states that we do not grant exceptions regardless of rank. The only way one can learn the secret of the Margarita Mix is if they have concerns about allergens.”
Wilhelm’s friend laughed at that, beaming at Mikael with a thousand-watt smile.
“Oh, I like you already,” he said. The boy looked at Mikael closer now, considering him in the same careful way Mikael had just done with him. After so much thought about how working in this part of Stockholm made him seem invisible, in this moment, he felt almost unnervingly seen. “I’m Simon. Best friend of Wille. Official title. What’s your name?”
Still apprehensive, Mikael just pointed to his chest, where a nametag was pinned to his apron.
“Mikael,” Wilhelm read, grinning wide.
“Good, he can read,” Mikael muttered to himself before he had a second to think better of it.
His gaze flickered over to Simon, who looked like a kid at a candy store. Clearly, he was delighted that Mikael was instantly willing to poke fun at Wilhelm. Mikael didn’t know why he was chasing the approval of this… kid. Especially at the expense of the actual Crown Prince of their country. It was something to do with Simon’s smile, Mikael thought. It felt familiar. It reminded him of Sanna.
Mikael knew his face fell at that realization. He also knew that Simon had caught it, and Mikael watched as his smile faltered, but only for a fraction of a second.
“Literacy is one of his better qualities,” Simon said to Mikael, glancing over at Wilhelm with a fond roll of his eyes.
“It’s ‘Gang Up on Wille’ day, huh?” Wilhelm muttered, looking up briefly to glare at Simon. Simon just laughed lightly, looking down at the food menu the hostess had given them when they first sat down.
Someone in Mikael’s position would have to be blind not to notice the rush of pink on Simon’s cheeks. Mikael remembered what it was like to be that age, no older than nineteen or twenty if Mikael had to guess. He recognized Simon’s exact blush from his early memories of Nea.
Mikael wasn’t ready to make any assumptions, but he was briefly curious. He thought he would have heard something if the prince was gay. Or bisexual or whatever, Mikael didn’t know. Then again, maybe they were trying to be discreet. But, Mikael thought, there were definitely places more discreet than a busy restaurant in the middle of Gamla stan, just minutes away from the royal palace.
So, they were probably best friends. Still, Mikael noticed the way Simon looked at Wilhelm, like he had just hung the moon. It wasn’t nothing.
None of his business, though.
“I’ll have the House Margarita. Salted rim, please. For now, you can keep your secrets,” Wilhelm said, smiling at Mikael again. “But next time, I’ll find a way to get you to tell me while also sparing my precious life.”
“Precious,” Mikael scoffed, causing Simon to let out another breath of laughter.
Mikael opened his mouth to ask to see Wilhelm’s ID before he stopped short. Do members of the royal family even carry identification? Mikael knew Wilhelm was over eighteen, but he was still legally required to ask. Unless there was an exception for princes? He didn’t think there would be, but he also had no reason to know. Would Wilhelm get mad at him for asking? He couldn’t help but glance over to the security guards, who, admittedly, looked terrifying.
Mikael thought back to how he wanted to quit this job before they fired him. He did not want to have to tell the story of how he was fired for not carding the Crown Prince.
“Can I see your ID?” Mikael asked, keeping his expression as neutral as possible.
Wilhelm looked surprised for a moment, but he instantly reached into his pocket to remove his wallet and his ID, which, apparently, he did carry with him. That was good to know.
“I’ve never seen you get carded before,” Simon said to Wilhelm, beaming ear to ear. “This is the best day of my life. I hope the food is good, Wille. This might finally be our place. It feels right.”
Mikael glanced down at Wilhelm’s ID (which was weird, so extremely weird. Wilhelm had so many names and probably the nicest picture Mikael had ever seen on an ID) before handing it back to him wordlessly.
Mikael set to work making Wilhelm’s drink, thinking that their interaction was over for now, but Simon spoke up again, surprising him.
“So, Mikael,” Simon said, his voice curious and friendly. “Have you always lived in Stockholm?”
The answer to the question was no, but Mikael was a very private guy. He didn’t want strangers asking him personal questions. It was none of their business. Especially not the prince’s.
Mikael finished pouring the last of the ingredients into his cocktail shaker before answering Simon’s question with a frown and a shrug. It wasn’t a yes or a no—it was just an acknowledgment. Simon seemed to take the hint, and he just smiled at him with a nod. Understanding, gracious, unnervingly kind.
Simon and Wilhelm were quiet while Mikael finished making the drink. They looked around, admiring the space. For all of its faults, Geronimo’s FGT was fun. Decked out in colorful textiles, weird bird taxidermy, and neon cacti, the place felt like a fever dream interpretation of the American Southwest. Mikael did love it, and so, as it would seem, did Simon and Wilhelm, who each wore small, pleased smiles on their faces as they took in the atmosphere of Geronimo’s.
Giving the margarita a few good shakes, Mikael poured it into a mason jar with a salted rim and slid the drink over to Wilhelm, who thanked him profusely and wasted no time downing half the drink with one prolonged sip.
“Nectar of the gods…” Wilhelm mused, putting the jar down with a satisfied sigh. Mikael still didn’t know quite what to make of Wilhelm, but he thought that he liked him. Or, at least, he was pleased that the prince seemed to approve of his bartending skills.
“Anything to eat?” Mikael asked, using both his hands to point at the pair of menus in front of Wilhelm and Simon.
“It’s Tuesday, so definitely tacos,” Wilhelm said, with so much enthusiasm.
“Which tacos would you recommend?” Simon asked, looking up from his menu to Mikael.
“They’re all fucking great,” Mikael said, truthfully. Since starting here, Mikael had tried and enjoyed pretty much the entire menu. “Birria are good. Fish, too.”
Mikael watched Simon and Wilhelm exchange a look, wordlessly communicating before Simon nodded and grinned, turning back to Mikael.
“Perfect, we’ll try those,” Simon said, before glancing back at Wilhelm. “And we’ll split them so we can both try both.”
“And queso, too. Please. As much as you’re willing to give us,” Wilhelm added, before doing something weird with his eyes. Mikael thought Wilhelm might have been trying to wink, but he wasn’t sure. He might just have something really wrong with his vision.
Mikael left to put in their food orders, and then, a little reluctantly, went back to work. As much as his curiosity made him want to linger by Wilhelm and Simon, there were other patrons sitting at his bar, and more drink orders coming in for him to work on. Even if he had literal royalty at his bar, Mikael couldn’t afford to give them all of his attention. He was cutting his rent a little too close as is.
While Mikael was able to busy himself with the Taco Tuesday crowd, he did occasionally try to listen in to Simon and Wilhelm’s conversation, just to get a better idea as to what their deal was. He wanted to know why they were here, of all places.
It sounded like they were catching up on the past week or so of their lives. Simon must have been a student, probably here in Stockholm, as he spent most of his meal talking animatedly to Wilhelm about various classes and professors. Wilhelm was listening intently, nodding along and peppering in questions and comments throughout.
Mikael realized that their appearance at Geronimo’s was really quite simple. Wilhelm and Simon were two friends, meeting for dinner to catch up on each other’s lives. There was nothing fancy, no royal banquets or expensive wines or anything. Just two friends sat at a bar, eating tacos and talking about their day.
It was… endearing.
When it was getting late, and their plates were all but licked clean, Mikael approached Wilhelm and Simon again, leaning against the bar opposite them. He offered them a sort of smile, a slight purse of his lips that was just about as friendly as his face could get.
“Good?”
“Fucking great,” Wilhelm grinned, repeating Mikael’s praise from earlier.
Giving the boys a satisfied nod, Mikael placed the bill between Simon and Wilhelm. Simon let out a loud bark of laughter before pushing the bill directly to Wilhelm.
“Why do I always get stuck paying?” Wilhelm said, teasingly. Still, he didn’t hesitate to immediately take out his wallet and hand Mikael a card, smiling politely all the while.
“Wilhelm, do not get me started today. You are already on such thin ice,” Simon said, his voice surprisingly serious. Simon must have had plenty of thoughts on the excessive amount of cash Wilhelm surely had at his disposal. It was surprising—in a good way, Mikael thought. Wilhelm seemed to have a friend with a good head on his shoulders. Polite, engaging, and willing to challenge him.
Mikael really, really liked this Simon kid.
He also really, really missed Sanna.
Mikael ran Wilhelm’s card and returned it to him. Wilhelm pocketed his wallet, thanked Mikael again, and then started to get up.
“You’ll be working next week, right Mikael?” Simon asked as he stood. Mikael was surprised at the question and didn’t answer right away. He just stared at Simon for a prolonged moment, raising an eyebrow. “Next Taco Tuesday. We’ll see you here again. Next week?”
Mikael shrugged and smiled a little. He supposed he would stick around until next week, at least, if that meant seeing Wilhelm and Simon again. He was still curious about them. He wanted to listen to them more and try to understand them better.
“Next week, then,” Wilhelm smiled. He crinkled his eyes in that weird and awkward way again—probably a wink. Then, with a final wave, they left Geronimo’s, security detail in tow.
Suddenly, Mikael’s monotonous job felt like the most interesting place in the entire country. Maybe Mikael would quit next week.
But for now, he’d stay. Make a couple of margaritas. Eat a few more tacos. Have a fucking good time.
#ally writes#tomt#i wasnt sure if i was gonna publish this anywhere but it turns out im too proud of it to gatekeep#oops#also me naming this after another jimmy song??? classic me#ok bye
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He's got a girlfriend anyway
Hey my loves, I wrote this ages ago and now see it reads like a Matty Healy blurb😭 there aren't any names though so it's really just a silly little story about you & your pretty boy bestie and the "will they/won't they hookup" energy that surrounds your not so platonic relationship. also - you're both in the like 19-21ish age range if you care about that for the visual
content - cheating adjacent (you might feel like its full blown cheating depending your moral compass lmao - proceed with caution if you're not here to read about that), pining fallingforyou vibes
You end up in his lap in the backseat of your best friend's car. It's purely logistical. You're both small and openly affectionate and it just makes sense for you two to cuddle up in the corner to leave room for your friends with longer legs and broader shoulders - although you probably would've ended up in the same position even if the backseat were totally empty.
You've been mistaken as his partner and he yours more times can either of you care to count. It might be because his fingers are always laced through yours when you're walking through town, or because your legs tend to find themselves draped over his when you inevitably sit next him on the sofa. Just about an hour ago your new drunk bathroom soulmate was saying how jealous she was because her boyfriend never wants to dance with her like yours was all night. You laugh it off with a "yeah, I love him!" Because you do. In a platonic way. Of course. Since he's got a girlfriend anyway. She's new and you like her well enough, but she couldn't come tonight and old habits die hard. So now your back is against the car door and your right side is against his chest. His left arm is wrapped around your waist and his other hand is resting on your leg, keeping you steady as your friend takes sharp turns on the drive back.
You're both tired after a night of drinking and dancing and one of your hands is lazily playing with his curls while the other is tracing the fingers resting on your thigh. He's gently dragging his blunt nails down your back and everything feels nice, and easy, and comfortable. You could easily fall asleep surrounded by the scent of smoke and cologne clinging to his clothes and skin with the quiet music playing from the stereo. He shifts a little beneath you and you end up tugging his hair a little harder than you meant to. You whisper an apology in his ear but he just laughs softly as he continues to lean forward.
At first you think it unintentional - the way his lips just barely brush your neck - but that thought quickly leaves your head as he trails kisses down to your collarbone. You're still combing your fingers through his hair and pull at it again as you feel his teeth grazing the base of your throat much too lightly to leave a mark. You turn closer so you're almost chest to chest in the confines of the backseat and feel his lips curve into a smile against you. You trace your fingers down his shoulder to rest above his racing heart, satisfied that he seems as effected as you.
He's getting bolder, easing his hands under the hem of your top running across your bare back and ribs as the car comes to a stop at its first destination. You move to open the door once you realize you've made it to his already and hop out first, allowing him to follow behind you. You stand on tiptoes to hug him goodbye for the evening as his housemates head for the door, expecting him to say sleep well, or see you soon, or anything but what he actually says:
"Y'wanna come up?"
It shouldn't shock you as much as it does. You pull back enough to look at him with a furrowed brow, giving him the opportunity to say he was messing and take it back but he doesn't.
"I don't think Connie would appreciate that, love."
"Shit - I didn't mean to - sorry..fuck." He trails off.
"Forget it, just go to sleep, yeah? We'll talk in the morning if you want."
He quickly nods, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
You squeeze his hand and press a kiss to his forehead before you leave and get back into the car. Now that the front seat is unoccupied, you slide in next to your best friend who simply says "The fuck was that?"
You wish you knew, but you just shake your head and press your fingers to your temples, looking down at your lap. "I dunno - he's drunk."
"Mm, maybe." She says, sounding wholly unconvinced. "He's always been so into you though."
"Yeah, well. Apparently not that into me." You say it and look over to her with a wry smirk that you hope ends this line of questioning.
It does - the next thing she asks if you wanna get fries on the way back to your shared apartment. Now that is a question to which you will always know the answer.
this is my first time sharing any writing on this acct - feel free to engage if you like ❤️
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Where do I know you from? 1/?
Hangster crackfic. There are too many Jakes and Bradleys for Jake and Bradley to be dealing with. Or the Universe is just as fed up with them being blind.
Jake looks up and does a double take, because that definitely looks like Rooster walking into the Hard Deck, except he’s not got a moustache. And sure, he could have shaved it off in the few hours since Jake saw him, however the fact that the upper lip is also tanned tells him that it’s actually very unlikely that this is Rooster. He narrows his eyes suspiciously.
Weird.
“Hey Jake…”
Jake blinks. He’s not used to being called Jake. Not in a very long time, and not by people outside his family. This is very fucking odd.
“Rooster…”
“What? Where?”
Okay. That’s not normal.
“What’s your name?”
Maybe Bradshaw has a twin brother he failed to mention.
Or a doppelganger.
Or this is a pod person.
“Oh, are we roleplaying? Okay then, hi sailor, I’m Bradley Bradshaw, you in town for long? Don’t give me shit about my name. It’s why I’m taking yours when we get married, remember?”
“When we what now?” Jake asks, eyebrow shooting up.
“Jake, are you okay?”
“Uh. No?” Jake says, because actually, he really isn’t.
“Wait… you’re not my Jake.”
“Your Jake?”
“Yeah. My Jake. Huh. This is weird.”
“You’re telling me,” Jake mutters, taking a quick look at his beer to double check that it is actually beer and not suddenly morphed into anything that would induce hallucinations of different versions of his colleague.
Right.
Because that’s how he thinks of Rooster.
“I think I need a drink,” Rooster says, and he’s pulling out his wallet and heading to the bar, greeting Penny like he knows her and Jake isn’t sure what the fuck is going on.
Then there’s another Rooster. Bradshaw? walking towards him and this one has a moustache, but is wearing a fucking business suit and he’s seen Rooster in formal suits, but not civilian wear and he’s starting to feel like there is something seriously wrong. A big something. Also what the fuck is he meant to call them all? They can’t all be Rooster. Or Bradshaw. Or even Bradley. Not that he’s ever called him Bradley, except in the tiniest corner of his brain in the early hour of the morning when he could deny it to even himself.
“Oh! A piano! I haven’t played in ages…”
Now Jake knows that’s a lie, because Rooster was here just last night, and Jake had been maudlin while watching his fingers tickling the ivory as he wondered if he’d ever get those fingers on him. He likes Rooster’s fingers a lot. Rooster One has drifted towards Rooster Two, is offering him a drink from his bottle of beer and they both looking at him and shaking their heads and Jake bristles a little at the looks on their faces, because they’re clearly not happy or impressed with him and he can’t help but be annoyed by that fact.
“Hey. There are two of me here already,” a voice sounding identical to Bradley Bradshaw says, and he’s making himself comfortable in the chair beside Jake. This Rooster looks like his Rooster as well, apart from the glasses, which he has to admit kind of suit him, then again it would take a lot to make Bradley Bradshaw look unattractive.
“You can see them too?”
“Yep. And I’m thinking you’re the common denominator here. You’re not my Jake. You’re very close though. My Jake has a higher rank than you.”
Jake blinks, a little incensed that this Rooster is also comparing him to another version of himself and he’s somehow lacking.
“Fuck you too,” he mutters, and instead of throwing a punch this Rooster just laughs at him, gives him a flirty wink and nudges his shoulder with his own before ordering a beer and pointing at Jake.
“Put it on his tab…”
Penny raises an eyebrow and Jake shrugs helplessly, wonders if she’s seen weirder shit than three clones turn up in her bar.
“Don’t worry, you’re still plenty pretty…”
“And you’re an ass in every universe,” Jake snarks back and a sudden look of understanding or realization comes over Rooster Three’s face.
“Alternate Universes…”
“What?”
“We’re all from Alternate or Parallel Universes. We’ve somehow slipped into your one. Question is, why?”
“Fucked if I know…” Jake mutters, getting annoyed and taking a sip of his drink.
Then the fourth Rooster walks in, wearing leather pants and has two full sleeves of ink and Jake just blinks, not even sure what to say or do. The third Rooster has gone over and introduced himself, is asking about Fourth Rooster’s tattoos like this is some kind of learning experience or conference and Jake thinks he’s starting to lose touch with reality.
What the fuck is happening?
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for writing requests, the chain givin wars a big ol group hug and letting him cry cus let’s be honest bro is not holding up well
Sunsets were always Sky’s favorite.
It was strange, how much a moment in time could change something like that, though. A few evenings ago, the sunset was stained blood read, dripping with anguish and fear, held together by a firm hand and guidance. It hadn’t come from their leader, however - the Hero of Time had been completely consumed by worry over Twilight’s condition, and Sky hadn’t blamed him for it, particularly after finding out they had a blood connection.
But after that initial horrifying sunset, Sky found that the dusk brought only exhaustion and melancholy, a worry that there would be another sunset that would stain the sky with blood.
Sighing, the young knight glanced out his window and saw the person he’d been looking for. While Time had been by Twilight’s side that entire evening, there had been another Hero who everyone had heavily relied on. Sky had tried to mediate and help as best he could as well, but he paled in comparison, certainly in terms of leadership capabilities.
But everything had a toll. Sky could see it well enough.
Exiting the inn, Sky heard the gentle serenade of crickets filling the air as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon. The town was not as peaceful and quiet as camping out in the woods, but it held a warm sense of safety that they usually didn’t have the luxury to enjoy. Any town gave Sky a small degree of anxiety, as they were all foreign to him, but settlements like this put the captain at ease far more than anyone else.
At least Sky knew Warriors could get some peace somewhere. It was obvious the man was trying to seek it.
Warriors heard Sky’s approach, turning his head slightly. His sharp eyes were analyzing him in an instant.
“Hey,” Sky greeted softly, trying to settle the man’s worries; he’d been on high alert ever since Twilight’s injury, and he’d yet to calm down. It had been three days since then. “I just wanted to check on you.”
Warriors blinked, baffled a moment, not expecting such a remark, and then he huffed out a small laugh. “Me? I’m alright. Are you?”
Him? Sky was fine. Sky was always fine. He honestly didn’t feel much of anything anymore, except that sunsets made him anxious. He hoped that would settle eventually, as he did love them. “I’m okay. But I just… you’ve been on edge, you know. Since everything. Do you… our Ordonian is going to be okay now. They said so. You know that, right?”
“Of course I know that,” Warriors replied, his smile fading, voice growing slightly snappish.
“It’s just… you’re not acting like you know that,” Sky continued carefully. “You’re… anything sets you off. Everything has to be in perfect order, everyone has to be on their best behavior. You know? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Warriors watched him for a long time, face blank. His eyes steadily moved downward until they were staring at nothing, boring a hole in the cobblestone beneath Sky’s feet. The Skyloftian waited patiently, knowing when to be silent and let someone else process. Eventually, the captain sighed heavily.
“You were a great help that night,” Warriors said softly. “I wanted to thank you.”
“It was nothing,” Sky brushed off. “That’s not answering my question.”
Warriors huffed ruefully in response. “You’re not usually this persistent.”
“No,” Sky admitted. “But I’m not usually this worried, either.”
The captain’s eyes finally snapped back up to meet Sky’s. His stony expression softened, and he smiled gently. “I said I’m alright.”
“You can be, yeah,” Sky commented. “Like… you don’t have to wrangle everyone in now, you know. I’m here. Our leader’s getting back into, well… leading. It’s okay to step back.”
Something in the captain’s expression wasn’t quite readable, a kind of strange gentle amusement and haunting sadness. Sky wasn’t sure what to do about it. So he just walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. Warriors seemed both inquisitive and slightly apprehensive at the touch, so Sky asked to be sure, “Can I hug you?”
The captain looked as if he didn’t even know what to say with such a request. He blinked once, twice, before a breathy laugh escaped his lips, eyes holding a tenderness to them that Sky wasn’t sure he’d ever seen in them. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.”
Sky smiled in return, leaning in and letting the captain wrap his arms around him. Sky gave what he received, not squeezing too tightly when Warriors’ embrace was hesitantly gentle. As they stood there, though, it seemed like the older knight settled into his predicament a bit more, letting himself relax as Sky held him tighter. Being a little shorter, Sky settled his ear against Warriors’ shoulder, and the gesture made the captain shift a little, resting his own head against Sky’s. His breath was shaky a moment, and Sky heard him swallow thickly.
It only lasted a few moments, but it was enough. Sky ached for the contact, honestly, and wished he could hug him more, but he knew better than to push the matter. Slowly, the two pulled apart. If Warriors’ face was a little more flushed than before, neither of them commented on it.
“Thanks, Sky,” the captain said quietly.
Sky’s smile was brighter than the sunset. “Anytime.”
#you ask skye answers#lovely anon#writing#linkeduniverse#linked universe#lu sky#lu warriors#He definitely deserves a hug bless him#Warriors doesn’t strike me as the most touchy feely dude#But Sky is definitely a hugger#They found a happy medium#I love giving people hugs#Sadly so many of my coworker buddies are not huggy people#So I always have to ask first#Most of the time they don’t mind LOL#Anyway I’m rambling#Warriors deserves all the comfort and love that man busted his butt to keep the group together
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beauty and the freak
four
you wake up early on saturday morning due to a loud banging on your front door. you had hope someone would be home to see who it was, but as time went by you assumed everyone was either asleep or they’ve been gone.
you groaned before moving eddie’s hand off of you and getting out of bed. you looked over at your boyfriend and roll your eyes. eddie could sleep through the end of the world. you head downstairs before opening the door and immediately wanting to slam it.
there stood your bitch of a mother with some dessert you’re sure she bought from the grocery store.
“it’s too early for you to be here and bother everyone. kindly go away!”
“now is that a way to speak to a neighbor? let alone your mother? and what are you wearing? what have i told you about looking your best at all times. even when you’re asleep!”
“sorry mother! we don’t all sleep in coffins. what are you doing here?”
“i came to greet my new neighbors. is that so wrong?”
“when it’s you? absolutely! dads not here and neither is his wife.”
your mother shrugs her shoulders. she gently pushes you aside and invites herself into your home. closing the door, you turned and rolled your eyes. “oh, sure! just come right in, mother.”
your mom looks around the place and hums. “quite cute.”
“seriously, what do you want?”
“like i said, i came to visit my daughter and ex husband.”
“i don’t wanna see you!”
your mother turns around. she gently grabs your hand and shakes her head. “when’s the last time you got this done?”
“why does it matter?”
“i just want what’s best for you darling.”
you groan as you head to the kitchen, grab a cup, thanking your father for making coffee before he left. your mother follows behind you.
“why don’t you come live with me and my fiancée?”
“since when have you been engaged?”
your mother shrugs her shoulders. “he asked me two weeks ago. you’d know that if you’d bother to text your mother back!”
“who was knocking on the door? oh. hi.” steve looks at you and you shrug your shoulders.
“steven.”
steve simply ignores her. he knew she didn’t like him much because his mom married her ex husband. but that wasn’t his problem.
“ed, here?” steve asked you.
you nod your head. “he’s sleep.”
“as always! the man is a menace.”
“im sorry, ed? who is ed?”
“eddie, mom!”
“as in munson? you don’t seriously have him in your house?! you do know his dad is a criminal right?! does your father know about him being here?” she turns to steve. “does your mom?!”
both you and steve laugh. “yeah! eddie’s my best friend. of course they know!”
“how could you associate yourself with someone like that steven?!”
steve looks at you as if your mom has been living under a rock. in this town, everyone knows everybody’s business. and despite your mom being your typical overbearing, condescending, arrogant woman, she minded her own business—besides yours and your dad’s business—
you weren’t surprised she didn’t know about eddie and steve. and you weren’t surprised that she didn’t know about you and eddie. this only made you smirk.
knowing this would just piss her off and possibly get her out of your life—but knowing her this would only make her control your life even more—you take a sip of your coffee before hearing footsteps.
“morning, man!” eddie yawns. he didn’t notice your mom, yet. instead he walks over to you and smiles. “how’d you sleep, baby?” eddie wraps his arms around your waist.
“i slept amazing. love cuddling you.”
“yeah? what else you love, hmm?” eddie kisses your neck.
you gently giggle. “ed, steve’s right there.”
“oh, please! i know you two are freaks! the walls between my room and yours are pretty thin, sister.” steve nudged you.
you blush.
“um—excuse me?! what the hell is going on?”
you honestly forgot about your mother. but now you were happy she’d been here. eddie’s perfect in your eyes! no one could tell you otherwise. and you’d never use eddie, not for anything! but knowing that your mom didn’t like him made you love eddie even more—if that’s even possible—
eddie looks at you and noticed your smirk. he smirks back knowing exactly what you were thinking.
“hi, miss yln! how are you?”
your mom looks at eddie up and down as if he was trash. eddie’s use to the looks. it doesn’t bother him a bit.
though it did bother you! she couldn’t judge anyone. she’s a manipulative serial cheater!
“get your hands off my daughter!”
“mom! he’s my boyfriend. stop being rude!” you roll your eyes.
“boyfriend?! you can’t be serious, yn ymn yln?”
“i am! we’ve been dating for a year and a half. how have you not known this?!”
your mom stares at you as if you had two heads. “you barely talk to me! and you know i don’t gossip. how could you be dating this—this—”
“freak? trailer trash? criminal child? cult leader? satanist? ive heard it all misses yln. doesn’t even hurt. bottom line, im in love with your daughter. im gonna marry her someday, rather you like or not. make her a munson and have millions of munson babies! gonna take her on the road with me when my band and i make it big! gonna prove you and this hick ass town just how wrong they are. i would love if you’d accept my relationship with her, but it ain’t gonna change shit if you don’t.” eddie shrugs his shoulder and walked away. you looked at him with so much love it almost pained you.
eddie truly is the perfect man!
“yn, we need to talk about this!”
yn shrugs her shoulders. “you heard him. get in line or get the fuck out. actually, just get the fuck out!” you walked away from your mother as steve grabs and apple, smirks, and takes a bit of it.
“you told her, sissy!”
taglist:
@lov3withurgency @sunshineandwitchery @melaninjhs @baileebear @am0iur @lovesanimals0000 @pipsqueakkitten @playgurlxoxo @peachy4u2 @thepurplelovewitch
#jqhotchner#jqhotchner masterlist#eddie munson x fem!reader#eddie munson x black!reader#eddie munson x reader#eddie stranger things#eddie munson x reader fluff#eddie munson x yn#eddie munson x reader smut#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x fem reader#eddie munson#eddie munson x female reader#beauty and the freak jqhotchner
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A rose by any other name
Series masterlist
Hazbin masterlist
Main masterlist
Previous
Warnings- deal making
You looked down at your pinky finger to see a red string appear, it was faded but it was there.
“Are you all right my dear?” Rosie asked looking a little confused.
You blinked, clearing your mind from the haze that it had entered.
“Yes I'm quite alright sorry” You smiled at the overlord.
“Oh my now tell me dear how did such a pretty face end up somewhere down here?” the demon questioned now standing as she looked through a rack of clothes in different shades of red pinks and even some purples.
“Ah well I killed my husband,” you said watching the overlord with a keen eye.
“Oh my stars did you really oh I just know that the two of us will get on just wonderful don’t you think my dear” Rosie asked as she held up a red dress eye black eye darting between the dress and yourself.
“Why don’t you try this on and see if you like it or not,” Rosie said handing you the dress you smiled at the woman before she showed you to a room where you could get changed.
“Are you all right my dear?” Rosie asked.
Her head poked through the side of the door as she spotted you.
“Could you lace me up Miss Rosie?” you questioned holding the two strings behind your back and looking at yourself in the mirror.
It was the first time that you had a good look at your self your skin once its natural colour was now a paler version with a light purple tint to it and you had green vines going down your left leg it looked almost embedded into your skin.
Rosie’s eyes sparkled as she walked behind your frame.
“Oh don’t you look lovely, i’m sure you will have all of the men asking for your hand” she said not missing the way your face scrunched up when she said the men would ask for your hand.
Teing the last not in the corset for your dress Rosie let out a small hum, she could see this arua about you almost like a power just waiting to be explored.
~Time skip~
You sat outside on one of the many benches in cannibal town people watching, there were people of all different ages and races from sinners to hellebores.
Rosie had been kind enough to give you a spare room for the time being it wasn’t anything fancy it was just a plain box room with a bed a desk and a wardrobe which was county empty.
“Hey give it back” You turned to see a shark demon take something from one of the younger demons just outside of the two.
You weren’t sure what made you do something or even how you did what you did but the next thing both you and the child know the shark demon is coughing up blue petals which were slowly turning red due to his blood mixing onto the petals.
The coughing stopped and the demon fell to the floor.
“Thank you miss,” the child said as you kneeled to their eye leave.
“You not hurt are you?” you ask your eyes doing a quick scan on the small child.
Your eyes fell on a small leaf that was on the ground next to you, picking it up you held it in front of you and the small child.
“Let's make a deal,” you said softly the kid nodded eyes full of excitement.
“Any time you are in dangler hold this leaf and I will come to protect you” The kid nodded before speaking.
“Does this man you will take my sole?” they asked which made you think for a moment.
Would this child offer up their sole for your protection?
“Your sole for my protection how does that sound?” the kid nodded before taking your hand in theirs binding the deal a flash of green light splashed out making you squint your eyes a bit.
Over the next few weeks small in incidents kept happening,like the first time sinner gave you their soles for your help in one way or another.
“My my you made quite a name for your self my dear”Rosie laughed taking a sip of her tea or well you though it was tea but it looked more like blood than tea but who are you to judge.
“I suppose so mine you my dear Rosie this was never intentional”you laughed looking at the red string on your finger.
“What a strange fixture on your hands my dear”Rosie laughed.
“Well it’s just a red string on my pinky”you laughed.
“Oh my dear stars do you know what this means?” The overlord asked practically jumping in her seat.
You shook your head. No.
“Your soulmate is in hell my dear!” She smiled
“My what!”
~~~~~~~~~
Next
#fanfic#x reader#hazbin hotel spoilers#hazbin hotel rosie#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel husk#husk hazbin hotel#hazbin charlie#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#alastor x reader#alastor
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Our Angel of Brahma, pt. ix
Travelers. Friends. Mutuals.
@ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @the-private-eye @demonic-panini @gwenlena
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS.
MOTHERLY VOICE:
I finally got a moment to myself thanks to Eber and Camilla… Thank the Goddess… I don’t know what I would be doing without them.
(THE PERSON SIGHS)
Where do I begin? I guess… my name would be a good start.
(CLEARING THEIR THROAT)
My name is Eevee Bell, and I am one of three to four dozen Dome Wardens on Brahma. Our duty is to perform routine maintenance on the planet’s Dome, track incoming and outgoing shuttles and ships, and monitor Brahma’s severe weather outside the Dome. I love my job. I think I do my job very well. From what I’ve heard about other planets, they have robotics and computers to do this job now. Artificial intelligence that the Solar Planets spent a fortune to perfect. Of course just like with everything else though, Brahma gets left behind in the dust.
(EEVEE CHUCKLES UNDER HER BREATH)
EEVEE:
Goddess bless our savior New Kinshasa.
(EEVEE LAUGHS A BIT HARSHER)
EEVEE:
What happened to us though has been brewing under their noses for some time now. I guess it was only a matter of time before… something was done.
To be honest I’m still not entirely sure what did happen. I know that our alarms went off when the Reactor Core was removed, and I know they stopped going off when the Core was put back. I know that the Chief Constable called all of our stations, and ordered us to go home. I know that we have not gone back to our stations for nearly ten days. I know that if we don’t accept any imports within the next seven days Brahma will begin to suffer. And if we fall, New Kinshasa falls with us.
Cyrus called me while I was rushing to get home to Baird. He asked me how much I knew and after I told him, I asked how much he knew. He said it would be better if he came to speak to me in person. He lives across town with Iris. I told him it wouldn’t be wise to meet up so late, especially with a curfew in place. He disagreed, but I talked enough sense into him that he waited until morning to catch a tram over here to the apartments.
Baird was not enthused to see him. He was rather… indifferent, actually. I know it hurt Cyrus’ feelings, I do plan on talking about it with Baird when I can, but it’s so hard to talk about anything seriously right now. I’d rather keep things as light-hearted as possible.
I sent Baird over to Camilla and Eber’s apartment while I had tea with Cyrus. He looked so worried. He asked me if I saw the Chief Constable’s broadcast about the Revolutionary, Peter Nureyev. I have. I watched it with Baird the night before after I got home from my post. Cyrus said that he doesn’t know of any Peter Nureyevs in any of his revolution circles.
He surprised me by asking me for my thoughts about the Constable they allegedly found murdered by the Revolutionary. I didn’t at the time, and I still don’t now. Cyrus said that he has reason to believe that part was a lie. He doesn’t believe the Revolutionary killed a Constable. He thinks it might be an elaborate lie or cover-up for some more vain truth.
(EEVEE INHALES SHARPLY)
The revolutionaries are holding a meeting tonight. Cyrus invited me to come. He wants me there. I don’t want to get in trouble, but… I need to keep Cyrus and Baird safe. And by extension, it’s my job to keep Brahma safe.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS:
EEVEE:
What the fuck!
NEW VOICE:
What are you doing?
EEVEE:
What am I doing I’m recording you idiot! Cyrus, don’t you see? If what was discussed tonight has any truth to it, New Kinshasa isn’t going to let any of this get out. More than– I bet you my next paycheck that Dark Matters is going to play a role in covering it all up!
(CYRUS TRIES TO SHUSH EEVEE)
CYRUS:
Alright, alright– you have a point. Keep your voice down alright the streets have ears… You really hope your little comms though is going to play a role in– This?
EEVEE:
Mark my word, I think my little comms will outlive both of us. If Baird’s lucky it will outlive them.
(CYRUS GROANS. EEVEE GIGGLES)
Okay, okay… I attended the meeting–
CYRUS:
The book club. We went to a late-night book club meeting. What? Don’t give me that look. Plausible deniability, Eve.
EEVEE:
Right. The Book Club. We attended Book Club and talked about the climax of a war story. In the story, the main character kills a man with radical ideas to overthrow their government. The man he killed was not popular amongst the rebels. In theory, they should have agreed with him.
CYRUS:
In practice, however, the rebels do not condone murdering hundreds of thousands of people. Thus the whole unpopular amongst the rebels.
EEVEE:
Of course, word got out about the man’s death, and to cover it up, the government claimed him as an Enforcer. And they were getting away with it because the last clothes the man was found in was a stolen Enforcer uniform.
I don’t know if I believe the rebel or the government’s of the story–
CYRUS:
Eve–
EEVEE:
But! But. But I do believe that it was the right call for the rebels to sit back and wait for information to trickle out to them slowly… I think I’ll need to attend the next meeting to really make sure I understand what I’m getting myself into.
Oh– I’m so tired. Can we discuss all this in the morning? With hopefully less ears listening in?
(CYRUS HUMS AFFIRMATIVELY)
CYRUS:
I’ll even let you sleep in if you let me crash on your couch.
EEVEE:
Of course, I wouldn’t make you walk across town while already breaking our curfew.
CYRUS:
Thanks, Eve.
(LONG PAUSE)
Baird’s not going to be mad to see me, is he?
EEVEE:
This late at night? I doubt it. If anything he’s staying over at that Spade’s apartment probably fast asleep with Charlie. Oh, they’re so sweet together. I went to say good night to them one evening and I couldn’t kiss Baird’s head because Charlie had a death grip on his shoulders. He's always polite and entertains all of Baird’s whims… I wish you were around more to see it happen.
CYRUS:
You and I both know why that can’t happen.
(BOTH OF THEM SIGH)
EEVEE:
You know he’s only so pouty around you because you and I split up, right? He just wants us all together again. Like a proper family.
CYRUS:
We are a proper family. Mom who works too hard, dad who left to get milk and never came back– see? Proper family.
(EEVEE LAUGHS CAUSING CYRUS TO LAUGH)
UNFAMILIAR VOICE:
Hey, state your business and show your credentials.
CYRUS:
Shit, Constables. Run Eve!
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS.
(EEVEE WHISPERS)
EEVEE:
Cyrus and I got away from the Constables last week perfectly fine. This week on Brahma: we went to another revolution meeting. A few old timers took roll call and one of them said he had reason to believe that the person the Angel of Brahma killed was one of theirs. A man who wasn’t the least bit popular in any particular revolutionary circle. Apparently, he wanted to drop New Kinshasa out of the sky and saw it perfectly fit to kill all of Brahma in the process.
(EEVEE SCOFFS)
The nerve of some people. No one at the meeting could remember his name though, and no one still knows who Peter Nureyev is outside of the photos projected on every billboard on the planet now. He looks so young. Those dark and haunting eyes and sharp teeth. I find it hard to believe that he’s just a teenager. But– he is.
I’m trying to keep my voice down right now because Baird is asleep. The meeting was held before curfew this time so Cyrus went home to Iris and I walked alone back to the apartment. Eber was waiting for me just outside and before I could say hello he was dragging me down the halls to Hank’s apartment. His dog Missy was sprawled out on the sofa but Hank, Camilla, and Josie were all gathered around the dinner table. Mrs. Darius was upstairs with Talia, Charlie, and Baird. I sat down and told them everything I could.
The revolutionaries wouldn’t let me record anything with my comms during the meeting, but there wasn’t much that I think needed to be recorded. Just talk about who was storing what, who was leaving their doors open to help others. There was a lot of talk about going on strike. Either food or labor. They want to send a message to New Kinshasa. I don’t think I can afford to do much of anything. Me and the other Dome Wardens just went back to work two days ago, we are working through a backlog of off-planet imports and exports still. If I strike alone I’ll just be fired. If all the Wardens strike, then the Constables will take over and that will lead to certain catastrophe. And if I stop eating then Baird will stop eating and he’s already so… short.
Oh– I wish I got a chance to talk to Cyrus before we went our separate ways. He’d help me think of some way I can help. Better yet, he’d probably be able to give the others here at the apartments the answers they wanted from me. Hank didn’t say anything other than telling us to get out. Eber, Camilla, Josie, and I were silent on the walk upstairs. The kids were delighted to see us. Eber walked Talia back down to Hank, Josie was trying to fill in Mrs. Darius, and Camilla and I watched the boys play some sort of game where they kept pinching each other and trying to not shriek? I think that was the objective? Children’s games used to be much less violent when I was that age. I remember when–
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Memma?
EEVEE:
Bairdy! What are you doing awake?
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
I couldn’t sleep. You were being too loud.
(EEVEE TSKS)
EEVEE:
Then let’s put you back to bed alright baby? C’mon. I’ll even sing for you if you’d like.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.
EEVEE:
I have either made the best decision of the revolution that will turn the tides in favor of Brahma, or the worst mistake of my life.
I told the old-timers at this past meeting that I work as a Dome Warden, and that a few of my colleagues seemed interested in joining the rebellion but were uncertain on how to go about it. The old-timers were delighted for a number of reasons and had drawn the same conclusion that I had a few weeks ago when a labor strike was first brought up. They think it would be very good if I was able to get some of the other Wardens on board with the revolution.
Cyrus was very quiet during the meeting. I asked him before we left if he had any opinions he was holding back, and all he said was to trust my gut. So… I trusted my gut.
I told the other Wardens at my post about the meetings. I told them about going on strike. A few seemed skeptical. Others wanted to know when the next meeting was. I’m going to contact Cyrus and get him to help me get the others to the next meeting.
I hope… this wasn’t a mistake. I guess time will only tell.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS.
EEVEE:
–you turned it on. Good job, baby.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Mom, why are you showing me how to use your comms? Is something going to happen to us? Is something bad going to happen to you?
EEVEE:
What? Oh no, baby. Nothing is going to happen to me. I just think you would find more use out of my comms than I would. Look, since you got it to record you can start recording all those little songs you like to sing. Or maybe you can get Charlie to record a story for you.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
But Mom, I like your singing and your stories more. Will you sing for me? And tell me a story tonight?
EEVEE:
Absolutely not. You get one or the other. Take your pick. And whatever you don’t choose, you have to give to me.
(BAIRD POUTS)
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Fine… I want a story from you, and then I’ll give you a song.
EEVEE:
Good choice, Bairdy. What kind of story would you like?
(BAIRD HUMS)
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
I want a story about Brahma.
EEVEE:
A story about Brahma? Well… there once was a boy born on Brahma with nothing. Not even a name. He grew up just like everyone else, hungry for more. More food, more freedom, more time. The boy followed a man who dreamed of dropping the New Kinshasa on top of the planet.
The boy was very tired. Tired of being poor, tired of being hungry, tired of being alone. But he knew, that if he let that man drop New Kinshasa out of the sky, he would never be able to forgive himself. Brahma is his home. He looked down at Brahma from up high, and saw them: his people.
Starving young faces just like his looked up to the sky and stared back at the city as it trembled. The boy had the power at his fingertips to stop a tragedy.
This is it. The people thought. This is how we go out. Not with the big bang, but crushed under the heel of our jailor.
The boy heard their thoughts. He felt a rush of adrenaline and stopped the man from getting away. The city of New Kinshasa never fell out of the sky that day. The people were ordered to retreat to their homes. But that evening, everyone heard about the great threat against the Guardian Angel System. And everyone learned the name Peter Nureyev. And for the first time in the last half-century, hope bloomed on Brahma. The Boy, The Legend, The Angel of Brahma.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
That’s not a story Memma, that’s history.
EEVEE:
And what is history but a story we have to learn from? Now, I believe you owe me a song.
(BAIRD GROANS AND HUFFS)
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Fine…
(BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND HUMS. THE SOUND GETS CLEARER LIKE HE’S BROUGHT THE COMMS CLOSER)
My angel, I must ask you keep singing for me.
How sweet your tune, like a songbird at noon.
What a lovely trill, it makes me feel ill.
O’ My heart overflows,
I could never let go.
Like chimes in the wind,
it must be destined.
I’ll find my way home,
with your voice I’ll never be alone.
Happy?
(EEVEE SNIFFLES)
EEVEE:
Very. Thank you, Baird. That was beautiful.
(FABRIC RUSTLES, BOTH BAIRD AND EEVEE HUM)
Promise me you’ll never stop singing baby.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Of course, Memma. I don’t think I could even if I tried.
EEVEE:
Good. Now–
(EEVEE PRESSES A KISS TO BAIRD’S HEAD)
Get some sleep. Okay? We have a long day tomorrow. And Bairdy?
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Yes, Mom?
EEVEE:
You know that I love you, right?
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
To the moons and back, yeah… Mom you promised nothing bad was going to happen to you.
EEVEE:
And nothing will. Good night, Baird.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Night Mom.
SOUND: DOOR CLOSING.
BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY):
Which button was it to end the recording? Was it this o–
SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.
- EEVEE BELL. BAIRD BELL. must contact Frannie’s friend about both of those names.
- Dome Wardens are indeed an old, out of date job. Eve is right, they’ve been replaced with robots. It’s actually kinda scary how right she was about things. About that, about Dark Matters probably covering everything up with New Kinshasa.
- Cyrus and Eve sound so fun together. I can see why they got married and had a kid together.
- Bairdy and Memma… right up there with Charls and Dearest.
- Oh Baird, he was 12 when these recordings were made. 12. Just almost a teenager, not quite. Almost too old to be called a baby.
- Eve loved Baird so much. She reminds me of my mother a bit. And she knew exactly what she was doing tucking Baird into bed that final time. There’s no doubt in my mind this is the last recording with her in it. She was taken away after this and never came back. The Dome Wardens did go on strike at some point according to Baird in other recordings, so did someone snitch to a Constable? Did she the Constable that almost caught her and Cyrus track her down?
- I think that’s the most frustrating part of my job. No matter how much I dig and research, there are some things that will be lost to me forever.
#at some point this was like pulling teeth#so i may revisit it and rewrite some of it#or elaborate/add more#BUT im happy rn#funfact: the story eve tells is almost word for word what i wrote on buzzkillgirls post#about nureyev the legend vs nureyev the man#our angel of brahma#the penumbra podcast#private eye's keys go jingle jangle#the penumbra fanfic#a hotboy's writing#FUCKGING BIRDS NEED TO SHUT UP NOW SO I CAN SLEEP-
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this man gets it
#personal#it basically already says it right there: business stability and their own survival. that's what the council is for#it was initially started kind of by vincent a little bit because he was doing gigs for different fixers all over town and just#their stupid bickering with one another and general sense of hostility he sensed between them made him realize that#none of them would survive the winter like that. too busy fighting each other like what gangs and corporations were also doing#the council is supposed to sort of hold the intricate network of fixers / mercs / clients in night city together#by keeping eyes on every other party involved. so mainly gangs and corps. report any changes in activity and act accordingly#this also to prioritize safety of civilians because that's part of vincent's initial idea and mainly vitali is trying to like#keep that one of the core values of the council#but mainly just to maintain the balance i guess. this is a city that's already hanging on by a thread#so anything that can be done to at least make sure business can continue as usual would be highly beneficial for fixers#but also most of them are mostly in it for themselves and just for like. that part. making sure they can keep their business going#and the infighting is still there as well. you kinda have to look at it as like the pirate council in pirates of the caribbean#and the only reason rogue is kind of their leader a little bit is because everyone voted for themself but vitali decided to vote for rogue#which gave her two votes. and now she's in charge. but also out of all of them she has the most authority and knows what she's doing#anyway hi yes rambling again did you miss my blorboposting. wait until you get to see my extended night city map
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Of Books & Beasts
Prompt: virginity
Paring: best friend!steve harrington x f!reader
Genre: romance, slow burn, friends to lovers, one bed trope
Notes: wc 9.1k // my first kinktober story (one of five) // hope everyone enjoys it // it’s very soft // a little scary movie night sleep over // reader falls asleep next to steve and things get a little steamy // i wrote everything to have as much consent as possible // steve is a bit of a perv lol
Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY, NSFW // slight somnophilia, dry humping, virginity loss, vaginal fingering // masturbation // smut // 'just the tip' is used once or twice // please let me know if there is anymore that need to be added!
ao3 // kinktober masterlist // full masterlist // lazy ghoul’s kinktober prompts
-:-:-:-:-
The night was meant to be a simple one. After weeks of assignments, exams, quizzes, and extracurricular activities at college, all you wanted to do was relax. Well, you still had one more assignment left to do, but maybe you were able to kill two birds with one stone, right?
Luckily, this assignment was one that you could easily ask for help with from your friend. Someone who always stole movies for you to borrow on many weekends anyways. With your class being based on books which turned into film adaptations, it means a lot of time spent reading and watching. In truth, you felt bad for your classmates who had to rent out the tapes for extended periods just to finish analysis for assignments; all while you didn’t even need to bat an eyelash in Steve’s direction for him to hide movies in your backpack while his manager wasn’t looking.
With the theme of this particular assignment matching the season and going with horror films, a movie night was something that you craved. Thick sweaters, even thicker blankets, a bit of hot chocolate, and candy from the grocery store that had the orange and black packaging — they were all of the aspects to the marathon you proposed when you walked into Family Video on a Friday afternoon after you got off the bus. Despite all of your convincing tactics, your friend already had his answer long before you began to ask.
“Anything for you, dove. I’ll get everything on this list for us,” Steve smiled at you, after looking at the assignment rubric, as you stood on the other side of the cash register.
“Alright, maybe I should place a pizza order now so that we don’t starve during the Friday dinner rush tonight,” you said sweetly as you nervously thought about what to order.
“Don’t you worry about it, it’s on me. Let me treat you a little.”
“I’m the one who asked you to have a movie marathon with me, I should really be the one paying,” you insisted while you brought your hand closer to the telephone.
But, quickly, the man was able to grasp it lightly to stop you from moving towards the numbers. You could never admit just how much your skin tingled at the touch. “I’m serious. This shift finishes in twenty minutes, then I can drive us home and I’m all yours. Do whatever you want with me, dove. I can even help out with your stress relief later. Maybe I’ll bend —”
“Please don’t continue that sentence,” you cut him off easily. Steve always loved to tease you and any eavesdroppers who may be listening in and theorizing if you two were dating or not. The town is full of gossip fiends. “Any louder and people will start to believe you.”
The younger Harrington chuckled as he got out from behind the counter to stand fully in front of you. He adored to see the way you outwardly pretended you hated the fake moves he would pull. From him putting his arm around your shoulder whilst walking around town, whistling every other time he picked you up from the city bus stop, to intimidating every guy who looked in your direction for too long. However, both of you never knew the other wished for it all to be real.
“Fine, fine, I’ll be good and stop teasing you,” he chuckled lowly.
“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself before looking up at Steve with wide eyes. “So will you also be buying garlic knots tonight too?”
“Yes, as long as you promise to stay awake until the final movie, sleepy girl.”
-:-:-:-:-
You, in fact, did not stay awake the whole movie night. It wasn’t Tim Curry’s fault either. Normally, it was tradition for you two to end off every evening like this with one musical or something more lighthearted to offset the mood. But the day just exhausted you from every angle, that once you finally got to relax and watch a movie for leisure — you relaxed a little too hard. Adding the components of the cold pizza and Steve putting a blanket on you while continuously keeping a grasp on your knee, you were bound to knock out before the movie ended. Later, it was Steve who woke you up with a whisper in your ear. The sound shocked you at first, and then when you opened your eyes to see the man kneeling in front of you, it did cause a slightly loud gasp to escape your lips. After some groaning on your end about not wanting to intrude, you finally gave in to the invitation Steve gave to let you sleep over tonight. The main contributing factor had to be the fact that the man had a really nice blanket and pillow set that felt like it came from a hotel.
However, as you both ended off the night in your room, it was Steve who began to groan — although, it was due to pure frustration.
“I don’t have any clean clothes,” your host said as he rummaged through his drawers.
“How about any sweater and some of those long johns your mother always buys you?” you giggled as you sat on the bed now, reading a book you recently checked out from the library.
“Or you could always sleep naked, I heard it’s really healthy for you. Plus, I would not mind at — ow,” Steve was on his little sarcastic joke before you threw an old pair of socks at his head.
“Maybe I should just head home, this feels like such a nuisance to you,” you smiled and whispered shyly.
Steve really was trying hard to find you something to sleep in. So much so that it caused some sweat to drop on his forehead. But, truly, the man was standing there trying to work up the courage to ask you to put on one of his old swim team sweaters and a cotton pair of shorts he knew would hug your body beautifully.
Yes, you have slept over before when you were younger. However, those were all planned out with you bringing something from home. Well, there was one emergency where you stayed the night due to a horrific snow storm; but, Mrs. Harrington was there to give you your Christmas present a few weeks early and allow you to sleep in some pyjamas which were covered in cute bunnies. This was the first time you would be here spontaneously alone with Steve — and god, did he feel like all of his prayers were answered. The amount of times he has imagined you laying on his bed, committing the most sinful acts, in various positions and scenarios, could be seen as absolutely perverted. So to have the opportunity to have you on his bed, wearing his clothes, covered in his blanket; it all seemed unfathomable to the man.
“Here,” Steve exclaimed quickly so that you would actually stay. “Maybe you would be alright with this sweatshirt and some shorts?”
“This is more than alright. Thank you, Steve,” You skipped off to the washroom to finally get ready for bed and let your friend change into his own pyjamas.
However, when you got the clothing on, it was so embarrassing to stare into the mirror. Everything fits fine — and on a normal day at home, you would probably wear something similar. But remembering the fact that you would be sleeping next to your best friend was so nerve wracking. It was just a lot shorter than what you would usually wear around him if you did wear a skirt or shorts. You just thanked the heavens that the blanket would be covering your legs so that you didn’t feel as exposed.
Not that you believed Steve would try anything; not that you didn’t want him to try anything either. But, you were scared of getting so cold and cuddling too close to him like you did last December during the winter storm. Waking up in Steve’s arms caused your heart to flutter so harshly that your heart rate didn’t go down for days. It made you think about how badly you wished you could wake up to his handsome face everyday. Most especially, it made you think about how nicely his leg felt right in between your thighs, and the way it massaged your —
No.
This was an innocent sleepover like the thousands that other best friends have had over the years. All you had to do was sleep next to him with a pillow between your bodies and hope you didn’t accidentally roll your way into his arms again. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the heartbreak of knowing that being entwined in each other’s arms would not last forever.
“Do you want the left or right side of the bed?” Steve called out from the other side of the door, startling you out of your thoughts.
“Anything is fine,” you replied whilst opening the door. Seeing that Steve was laying in the middle, ready to roll over to whichever side you preferred. The image of him with arms and legs spread out made you giggle.
“The left side is closer to the lamp if you’d like to read a bit before sleeping,” he said as he shifted over to the ride side of the bed and patted to your new spot.
“Are you a mind reader or something?” you chuckled between steps.
Steve put the book in the air as you tucked yourself into bed, a nice distance away from him. Once he saw you were comfortable, he placed the book gently in your lap and said: “no, but I could tell your little nap will probably have you staying awake for the next hour or so.”
“Oh, if the light is gonna bother you then I can turn it off and head to sleep too.”
The concern in your eyes was absolutely beautiful. As you started up at him with the lamp glowing behind you, you looked like a nymph in the night. And oh how Steve knew he would be the luckiest man alive to sleep next to you.
“Go ahead, dove. I can sleep through anything,” he whispered lowly whilst rubbing your thigh that was covered by the thick blanket. “What’s it about anyways?”
You took a deep breath to calm down before speaking. Steve’s touch caused you to feel warm, even more so when he squeezed your thigh every few moments. “Not too sure about the entire plot since I’m only on chapter two. But it’s about a prince and his beast companion. They’ve been best friends for a long time and are going on adventures. This was in the romance section so I’m guessing the best friends fall in love,” you rambled, getting quieter with the last few words.
What a dream.
“Is it dirty?” Steve teased as he sunk further underneath the blanket.
“No, I-I’ve never read a story like that before,” you said sternly.
“Oh, I believe you,” his voice got deeper and slower with each word, only indicating that he was bound to fall asleep any second. “Have fun reading.”
They were the last words he said before drifting off to sleep peacefully next to you. Luckily, that meant it was a lot easier to read the rest of the book until you felt your own eyes start closing and the words on the page started to become blurry.
It was a beautiful story, full of lore and love, a mix of historical fiction and mythology. After reading and watching stories based on the horror genre for a few weeks now, it was nice to have a little bit of a break and just read about love. Your heart started to feel warm and giddy as each page passed — even going as far as quietly giggling when you felt your cheeks feel warm as a result of the prince’s romantic actions throughout the book. You didn’t even notice that you were sinking further and further into the blanket because you were so engrossed in the imaginary world. It didn’t even matter that the angle made your back hurt a little.
Well, not really. Once you started to feel stiff, you moved into a straighter position. However, you were interrupted by a low and groggy voice.
“You want to get under here?” Steve asked you through half-lidded eyes and his arm moving to invite you to move even closer into his body.
Wordlessly, you accepted the offer and went right up to Steve’s body. The book was on his chest while your cheek was at his side. Everything felt so comfortable and domestic — a part of you wished this could last forever.
But right then, the storyline of the book went on a different path, to say the least.
You see, the prince got hurt whilst fighting off some evil spirits. He was bleeding everywhere and in so much pain. But the companion, a beautiful wolf-demon, was able to heal his wounds to the point where it wouldn’t be so life threatening. It was so simple, to use a little magic and bandages in hopes of survival, but the author was able to portray it wonderfully. To thank the woman, the prince moved his arms around her to hold her a warm embrace. It was so sweet, just like the position you were in now. However, it took a turn for the romantics. A little too romantic. An activity you definitely were not currently doing with Steve.
The man kissed her sweetly: from her shoulders, up to her neck, then finally landed on her plump lips. It was beautiful, so serene, accompanied by a drawing of the two in bed with locked lips and legs. Slowly, she started to rock against his leg, adoring the pressure against the place no one had touched before. As she gasped into each kiss, the prince smiled in tandem. Even moving his hips to help the lady feel more pleasure. You wondered how that felt, it was only a slight movement of the hips — there was no way it could feel that good.
But you were so wrong.
Just as you tried to move positions, Steve moved his leg upwards, moving his thigh right against your heat. It felt so good, to the point where you bit your lip to suppress the whimper that was about to escape your lips. The man next to you, tried to find a better position to sleep in too, moving his legs some more until it found solace as it intertwined with your own legs.
Fuck, it felt really good. You tried so hard not to move your hips in tandem so that you could amp up the pleasure. So instead, you continued to read, trying to focus on the writing techniques and nothing else. However, you only began noting the things the characters did with one another. How they whispered sweet nothings as they continued their game to see how long it would take the lady to climax. And you noticed the way you felt warm between your legs, a slight throbbing to seal the deal.
Maybe in another world you would wake up Steve and ask him to let you out of his embrace so that you could excuse yourself to the washroom and down. But not in this one. In this world, you were at peace in his arms. In this world, you really didn’t care about the throbbing ache between your legs because you were extremely sleepy. In this world, you would convince yourself that it would pass. In this world, the sound of both your hearts beating as one was enough of a lullaby to cause even the most stubborn of characters to sleep. Just as you did now, with the book still on Steve’s chest, and your bodies squeezing closer together.
-:-:-:-:-
Steve was an extremely heavy sleeper when he was with you. Most of the time, you would be awake first during these little sleepovers and do something before he even pried his eyes open and then decided to keep them shut because of the sun seeping through the windows. It wouldn’t surprise Steve to see you reading at your desk or braiding friendship bracelets when you had that arts n’ crafts phase a couple years ago. This time, however, he was the one who awoke in the middle of the night to movement from beside him. Maybe it was due to some level of paranoia he has gained over the past few years regarding a life that he wishes you would never need to experience. It’s funny that you were reading books with monsters the world has nightmares about, while he was one of the people who was facing them. He wishes so badly to protect you from all of it. So when you started moving in your sleep, something you never do, Steve felt his body wake up in an instant.
His eyes were having trouble fully opening themselves as he could hear faint whimpering sounds coming from you and slight movements near his thigh. It was enough to turn his head to the left to see what was wrong. But nothing was wrong per se. If anything this was right out of a perverted fantasy he has had millions of times before.
As his eyes finally came into focus at what was in front of him, Steve could only smile and thank the heavens. You were laying in the same position you initially fell asleep in: book held in your hand, it being face down on Steve’s chest on a particular page, while your own face was on the side of his chest. But, the thing that surprised him the most was the grip your thighs had around his own. Slowly, your hips were thrusting back and forth against his leg, humping over and over. Whenever your body hit the perfect spot against your clit, you would mewl against his chest, sending a vibration through his body. Your hard nipples would poke Steve’s stomach once in a while too.
Good Lord, he was so distracted by the vision of you thrusting against his thigh, that he didn’t realize just how hard he had become. He only noticed it when your leg tensed up and moved towards his crotch, touching the underside and head in the process.
You were about to become the death of him tonight.
Curiously, he picked up the book you were reading to put it on the bedside table, when the words jumped out at him.
“And then the prince lifted the dress of the maiden beast. How scary she was to the eyes of the kingdom, but how beautiful she looked with swollen lips and lust-filled eyes. She was wet, so wet that it seeped through the layers of clothing.”
Just then, Steve looked down to notice how your wetness was doing the same thing. Your arousal had gone past your shorts and went onto the cotton bottoms he was wearing. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.
The man skipped a few paragraphs to see just exactly what the prince and his lady were up to. Words of biting, screaming, thrusting harshly against the wall, even scratches along one another’s backs. It was pornographic, it was beautiful, and Steve was shocked that your virgin eyes read through some of this before falling asleep.
If only he could recreate it with you. Seeing you moan and move to your lust-filled slumber was more than enough of a dream come true to the man. But this was wrong. So wrong. You both were best friends. He loved you, wished he could be more with you. But he believed that wasn’t worthy of you. You were the princess this whole town adored while he was just a former playboy many people seemed to dislike sometimes. There was a part of him that wanted to see how long it would take for you to come against his leg. However, his guilt took over quickly.
“Wake up, my dove. It’s getting hot in here.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. The mixture of blankets and his arousal made Steve sweat through his clothes easily.
“Hm? What?” You rolled more onto his chest, your weight atop his body nicely. It would have been the world’s most comfortable position, one that would start off most of his perverted fantasies about you; however, he had to stop himself from thrusting against your thigh that was now perfectly on top of his hardness. “Feels so nice, Stevie,” you murmured, still half-asleep.
“Fuck — you really like that, huh?” The man whispered as you looked up at him with glazed eyes. You were still not cognizant that what you were doing was not in a dream.
“I feel so warm down there, your leg is massaging me nicely,” you moaned whilst humping some more. “Kiss me, please.”
Every move you were doing, every word you were saying, every whimper that came out of your throat — the man has imagined it all before. You were all of his greatest fantasies come to life. He wished so badly to ravish you on the spot and satiate all of the pent-up pleasure your body needed to release. Your lips were swollen now from all of the biting you’ve been doing to quiet down your moans; but, good god, the man was going to memorize it all for the sake of his future sessions with his right hand.
Steve really needed to stop this, and fully wake you up as soon as possible. This wasn’t the normal you, you didn’t even realize exactly what you were doing. “Pretty girl, no matter how much I want to continue this, we can’t.” The words fell from his lips painfully.
“Why not? You don’t feel good?” You whimpered as you reached up and put your arms around Steve’s neck, stopping your hips’ movements all together.
“Feels so good, baby,” Steve moaned loudly this time as he thrusted against your leg like he imagined a million times before. It wasn't helping that you thought your face closer to his in order to hear his breathy moans easier. The man was so close to leaning forward and kissing your plump lips. “But, this isn’t a dream, and you’re not fully awake. I don’t want you to regret this—”
The man was going to ramble on and continue to comfort you into waking up fully. However, you got the message loud and clear. So much so, that your heart dropped and you gasped.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, I’ll move over t-there — ah.” The moan coming out of your mouth was completely involuntary as you lifted your body up and intended on moving down and away from Steve’s figure.
“Did that feel good?” Steve teased, now that you were both fully cognizant of your sleeping status.
“I don’t know why I did that, I’m sorry.” If only you could apologize a million times, because you would; your guilty conscience would make sure of it.
“You probably had some sweet dreams, huh?”
Just as you were separated from the man, you heard his words and looked over at his figure. Through the dim lighting of the lamp, you could see that he was holding up the novel you were reading before bed, and it was open to the very scene that inspired any of your hormone-induced movements tonight.
“Oh no,” you whispered. Looking down, there was a wet spot on Steve’s thigh where your heat was pressed against. He was admiring it as if he were memorizing just how it looks. And he was. “This is so embarrassing,” you though out loud
“It’s no big deal, dove. Guys have nudie magazines and a video here and there. I would never judge you for a little novel,” Steve chuckled as he sat up to the headboard to mirror your actions.
“I didn’t know it was going to be like that in the story,” you whispered.
“Did you like it?” Your friend was genuinely curious. Throughout your history as friends, you had never even asked him for advice about relationships — this erotic chapter of the novel must have been a shocking first exposure to it all.
You thought about the question for a few moments. Remembering the emotions and fire you felt in different parts of your body, you could really only tell him the truth. “Y-yeah, I suppose so.”
“Then don’t feel embarrassed or bad about it,” Steve nudged your shoulder sweetly to make you feel less embarrassed over the situation. “Never thought you were into reading it in front of other people though.”
“Don’t tease,” you pouted, putting your head under the blanket to hide from the embarrassment.
“I’ll stop, I promise. But, you did give me a wonderful way to wake up,” you could hear him smiling just by the sound of his voice.
Those words made you slowly peek your way out of the thick blanket to see Steve looming over you with a smirk that teased your soul. The lamp in the room made him glow, while the moon’s beams that were seeping through the blinds made him look like one of the many drawings of the prince in the book you were just reading. It took all the strength within you, not to squeeze your thighs together and satiate the throbbing between them.
“Let’s never talk about this again,” you whispered, the blanket still covering your mouth.
“If that’s what you would be comfortable with,” Steve chuckled as he laid back in his spot.
“Y-yes, I would be.”
After a moment of awkward silence, you both in regular sleeping positions, Steve wanted to break the ice a bit. “It is a well-written book. Maybe I could borrow it sometime.”
“You’re so annoying,” you giggled, grabbing a small pillow on the bed and lightly hitting his chest with it.
“Learn anything while reading? You could use me as a practice dummy.” The man laid on his side now, looking at you as he put on a seductive tone.
“You’re just a dummy, Steve,” you playfully scoffed with a giggle.
“That was the last one, promise. Sweet dreams, dove.”
In truth, Steve wanted you to sleep as quickly as possible so that he could make his way to the washroom and get rid of his hard problem. It was hurting now, even as he tried to think about anything else that would possibly subside his arousal. Your movements and moans will never be erased from his mind. Steve’s imagination was running wild with how you actually sounded as you were feeling pleasure.
No one has ever thanked a book more in the history of mankind.
“Is that what sex is like?” You whispered into the night, cutting off the man’s thoughts.
“What do you mean?” Steve replied as he turned to his side to look at you staring up to the ceiling.
“In the book, they talk about it like it happens so fast and hard,” you said the words with a concerned tone while turning your body towards his to face him.
“Well, it can be fast and hard if the couple wants it that way. But, taking it slow is nice too,” the man next to you chuckled sweetly.
You felt dumb asking the question. For years, you have known that Steve was a lot more experienced than you in the department of relations with the opposite sex. There have been countless times where Steve would tell you about any dates that he has gone on, or imply lewd acts he committed with his girlfriend of the week. And all you would do is nod out of pure curiosity. However, this was the first time you outright spoke about sex with him.
“Right, right, that makes sense. It must feel really nice,” you continued your thoughts.
“It does. Everything is so warm and wet. The noises too are something you’ll never forget. My hand and imagination does not do it justice sometimes.” Right then, Steve’s mind went through flashbacks of times he has laid in bed with the image of you stuck as his muse. He has imagined the way you would react and moan to things he would do with you. Would you bite your lip whilst looking down between your bodies? Would you whimper in the same way you do when you beg Steve to drive you somewhere and he just had a long day at work? Anything you would do would be erotic, and enough fire for him to reach the happiest of endings. However, by the end, he would pray for the day he could experience the real thing with you.
“I wonder what it will be like for me,” you giggled, bringing the blanket close to your face again.
“You got a good idea a few minutes ago,” Steve teased as he looked you up and down.
All you could do was hit his shoulder then hide your face into it as he leaned back onto the bed. “It did feel really, really nice, Steve. I’m so sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about. You liked it, didn’t you?” he said, trying to soothe your embarrassment of it all. As he squeezed his arm around you tighter to have you closer to his chest, Steve realized that your bare thighs had found their way around his again. You looked so beautiful cuddling next to him, tightening your legs slowly. “Then, maybe I can help. You didn’t get to finish, sweet girl.”
The deepness of Steve’s voice resonated through your entire body as you looked up at him with desperate eyes. His proposal sounded so good. You felt this constant throbbing between your legs that only increased ten-fold every time you and Steve accidentally breathed too close together. As you gripped his chest with your hands, and his thigh with your own — you really craved to continue the pleasure you were feeling moments before.
“I didn’t even know that I started,” you pouted.
“Oh, but finishing is one of the best parts,” he teased whilst moving his thigh upwards to massage your cunt slowly.
“Steve—” you moaned like music to his ears.
Your friend began to move his thigh up and down to stroke your pussy, hitting your clit from the right angle to make you bite your lip in between whimpers. He held your face sweetly, making sure that he could see how every movement affected you. Steve was sure that the image of your pupils getting darker would be engraved in his mind forever.
“My best friend needs help, and you know I would do anything for you,” he whispered, hovering his lips above yours.
“More, please.”
“So polite,” Steve teased, quickening his pace and moving one hand to your breasts. “Doing such a dirty thing and now you’re being so nice.”
“I feel so — I feel like I need more,” you said quietly as if it were a desperate plea.
Steve squeezed your right breast sweetly, pinching your hardened nipple through the thick sweater fabric. He noted how you thrusted yourself against his thigh and nearly fell onto his lips as you moaned.
“Is your body on fire? You feel nice, dove,” he smiled, kissing your cheek to tease you.
“So good. Kiss me, Steve, please.” You weren’t sure what took over your body in that moment, but you gripped onto his hair and leaned your lips towards his. Yet, he was the one who kissed you first. It was a kiss that made the angels sing above you, one that you both have been imagining for years and years. Hearing all of the stories of girls in school raving about his talents with his mouth and tongue — a part of you could never believe that he would be that amazing.
But, you were wrong, so wrong.
As he kissed you deeply, poking his tongue through to taste you more, you couldn’t help but whimper loudly into the kiss. Steve adored it, promising himself to try everything he could to hear every variation of your beautiful sounds. Just when he brought a hand down to your back, urging your hips to move forwards on his leg, you swear you were about to see stars. This is what all the magazines were talking about. This is what all the whispered conversations during girl talk were giggling about. This is what the novel you were just reading was writing about when it came to the pleasures of the flesh. You remembered what the lady did in the book, and decided to emulate her actions. Although you were slowing down your kisses, your hand found its way to Steve’s clothed hardness. It was nearly peeking out of the sweatpant elastic by now which made you gasp in surprise.
“God, what did you learn in that book?” Steve moaned as he felt your delicate hand on him.
“The characters in the story were really good friends too. She was always tempted to be the one who helped him out when he was really stressed out.” You smiled into the kiss, noticing how teasing him only made you wetter.
You hand gripped his hardness some more, focusing on the large head that could be felt through the fabric.
“Here I thought that was going to be my job tonight,” Steve’s voice was low now as he kissed you down your neck and moved the hand that was previously on your back, to your front. The shorts you were wearing rode up to tighten upon your cunt. The fabric squeezed your clit, and caused your arousal to get all over the place where your thighs met.
Steve pushed the fabric to the side, noticing how you didn’t wear panties to sleep, and started to lightly massage your clit. “Oh God,” you moaned into his mouth while arching your back.
The movement made Steve want to lay you down on your back to have easier access between your legs. Although you whimpered in slight disappointment when you didn’t feel the pressure of his thigh, that all went away when the man teased your wet entrance with his fingers before going up to your clit again.
“No panties, huh? You’re bound to be the death of me.”
“I normally don’t wear any to bed if I’m wearing shorts,” you whispered, moving yourself to feel his fingers more against your nub.
“Is it alright if I take these off?” He barely got the question out before you began to nod.
Looking at you in all your glory was absolutely mind blowing to Steve. He swears that he felt his cock twitch in excitement when he saw your arousal dripping on his sheets. The light from the lamp made you look like you were glowing, and the man was so tempted to taste what he has been craving for so long. But, he took it slow, circling your clit faster and faster as he leaned down to kiss you deeply. As every moan was swallowed by him, Steve began to thrust himself upon the side of your hip to satiate his arousal.
The moment he stopped kissing you for a moment, he wordlessly looked you in the eye, teasing your entrance now with his fingers. With a nod and smile through bitten lips, you gave him full permission to fill your hole that has been desperately throbbing around nothingness.
“Feels so good, Stevie. Keep doing that, please,” you groaned as he fingered you deeper and deeper.
“Are you close, dove? Are you gonna come? You’re so tight, can barely fit these two fingers,” Steve teased as he kissed your neck to make you moan louder.
“More — need more.” The grip you had on his hair became tighter as you pushed yourself down on his hand, nearly fucking yourself on his fingers. Feeling so stretched out was a brand new experience. You were never one to masturbate, even when everyone mentioned it was so much fun. Everything from seeing a hot guy at the mall, a rockstar who was shirtless on the cover of a magazine, or the angle of a showerhead accidentally focusing on a sweet spot — none of those experiences ever happened in your life. In truth, nothing ever made you curious enough to even try to see if other things would have a similar effect. But something about this night made you want to experience it all with Steve.
The man quickened his pace with his fingers, using one hand to thrust into you while the other massaged your clit sweetly. Your moans echoed through the room as you arch your back in ecstasy. The feeling of Steve’s lips on your throat made you want to thrust against his hand harder, but you were too overwhelmed to move your hips in tandem. Instead, you lifted up your shirt and started to squeeze your lonely nipples.
You aren’t sure what took over — all you knew was that everything felt so good.
“Fuck, you really do have the most perfect tits,” Steve whispered to himself when he got up from your neck. He felt your movements and thought something was wrong. Instead, he was greeted by the sight of your swollen nipples, eager for some sort of touch. When he saw your fingers squeeze your right nipple, he could not handle it anymore and dove down to suck on them, leaving marks on your smooth skin.
“Steve, everything you’re doing feels so good,” you moaned.
“Are you gonna come for me, baby? I know you can do it.”
And you did. Loudly. Just those words, working in tandem with his fingers and mouth, were more than enough to make you orgasm into oblivion. Steve had two fingers inside of you whilst his thumb was massaging your clit in small circles. You barely had the strength to tell him how good it felt since you were shaking below him in pleasure. All you could do was grasp Steve’s hair as he kissed one nipple of yours to the next. It was your very first orgasm, and you were welcoming it with open arms.
“So nice —” you whimpered incoherently.
Steve kissed you, swallowing in your moans of ecstasy. “I’m never gonna get tired of that sound,” he teased as he took out his fingers from inside of you and just massaged your clit as you got down from your high.
“So much better than reading a book,” you giggled as your body calmed down.
“Maybe we gotta find you crazier books then,” Steve smiled with you while kissing your soft lips.
The kiss became deeper as you embraced one another. Your friend found his way on top of you which felt so surreal. Throughout your friendship, you never believed that some of your naughty dreams that you pushed to the side, would ever come true. Steve was having the same thoughts; however, he never pushed those dreams to the side. More likely, he would take care of any hard problem that was in between his legs. But, kissing you only made him throb harder. Especially now that he knows what your pussy felt like on his fingertips,
“Again — I can take more,” you whispered between kisses.
“Needy girl, you really want to?” Steve asked, making sure this wasn’t a dream for him now.
“Mhm, yes, what if we slipped it in?” your hand moved down his body and to the waistband of his pants. Without even stretching the fabric, you looked up at him with sweet eyes. “Would it feel good too? Maybe just the tip?”
Fuck.
Steve needed to calm himself down. He was already on the verge of cumming in his pants, watching you orgasm on his sheets. Even now, as the remnants of your arousal covered his fingers, he wondered how it would feel against his hardness. But, Steve couldn’t do that to you now. Especially knowing the fact that it would be your first time. However, the lust that clouded your eyes as you pouted up at him, was convincing him slowly.
The conflict on Steve’s face was so apparent that you whispered: “oh, we don’t need to—”
“Fuck, I want to,” Steve kissed you sweetly. “Are you sure, baby? Sure that you can take it all?”
“Yes, yes, I promise you that I can,” you smiled up at him and then bit your lips out of a mixture of excitement and nervousness.
You kissed one another again, not being to stand the time your lips were apart from each other’s. As you did so, Steve brought his hands under your sweater to nearly rip it off of you — leaving you beautifully naked on his plaid sheets. His hands were calling to him, telling him that one day he needed to take a picture of you like this. But, there is going to be another time, surely. Right now, he wanted to satiate your body’s cravings. As you stared up at him and squeezed your thighs together, Steve was truly about to combust.
“It’s kinda cold,” you giggled as you stared down at your hardened nipples. Then, you sat up slightly to meet his lips again, but not without whispering close to his mouth. “Can I take off your clothes too?”
With those words, Steve helped you take off his tight shirt and sweatpants. You’ve been teasingly touching it throughout tonight’s escapades; however, seeing his hardness in all its glory, stunned you. It was a lot thicker and longer than you initially believed. In truth, there were countless moments where you had gotten a glimpse of his size. Like the times he invited you to his backyard to swim, and he always seemed to choose tighter swim shorts every week. Or the one time he forgot to bring a towel into the shower so you brought one to him, thinking that he was going to keep the shower curtain atop his body for some modesty; however, when you were on your way out the room, he let go of the plastic curtain a bit too early and you saw a definite outline from the side of your eyes. Every single time, no matter how crazy the situation may be, you felt warm all over your body. This time, however, seeing the way it hung and the precum leaking out of it, you were hypnotized to say the least.
“One sec, dove,” Steve whispered as he saw that you were about to touch it. You looked to see that he bent his body to reach his nightstand and take out a little clear bottle.
“What is that?” You asked innocently as you began to stroke him while he wasn’t looking.
“I-it’s — fuck — it’s lube. We could use a little if you wanted to,” Steve said seriously before bringing a hand to your arousal and massaging your clit sweetly. “Not sure if we will need much,” he teased.
Steve kissed you again, having you lay down on the bed fully. He thrusted his hardness against your pussy a few times, seeing how you reacted to the feeling. You adored it, mewling every time the head of his cock coincided with your clit. In truth, you both could have been doing this for the rest of the night until you two came; however, you were throbbing around nothing and you craved to feel more stretched out than with Steve’s fingers.
You broke away from the kiss, eyeing the bottle of lube curiously, before Steve grabbed it and put it in your hands to look at closer. There were times you saw a similar bottle in the drug store and noticed they were next to the condoms and pregnancy tests. You saw that there were big bold letters on the front: ‘for her pleasure,’ which confused you slightly. But, you decided to give it a try anyways — it must be something good, you guessed.
“Let's use a little, Steve.”
“Yeah, sure. You want me to put it on?” He asked sweetly as he outstretched his hand.
“N-no, I wanna try something,” you smiled up at him before putting a dollop of the gel in your right hand. “You’re so big, Stevie. You’re gonna stretch me out so good.”
Your words were hypnotizing the man above you as you circled your hand over his cock and stroked a few times. And to think that he believed that he was to be taking the lead tonight.
“F-fuck, dove. Your hands are so soft.” Steve’s moans were making you wetter by the second. You felt your heat throb harshly around nothing, before you moved your hips upwards a little and guided his cock into you.
Just the tip — you said the words before.
But, fuck, it felt so nice that you both needed so much more. Steve stayed still above you as he watched the way you move your hips to bounce on his cock from below. Inch by inch, you thrusted yourself upon his lube-covered hardness, causing moans to echo through the room as you got stretched out.
This was so much better than you both could have ever dreamed of.
“So hard,” you whispered as you got in the last inch and took all of Steve’s cock in.
“You’re taking me so well, dove. So fucking wet,” he said as he kissed you and let you get used to the large size.
“Feels nice.”
“Tell me if you don’t like it,” Steve whispered as he kissed your lips one last time before moving his mouth down your neck and finally thrusting his hips into you.
Everything seemed to amplify ten-fold. All of the pleasure, moans, tingling, stretching — it all felt so nice. It was if you two were the only people in the world, with the sky changing from a navy blue to a bright orange. Sweet nothings were whispered into the air as you both wanted to give each other the poetic justice you deserved.
Steve kissed you every time he heard your moans get louder and louder, wanting to taste your ecstasy. He moved back and forth from kissing your lips, to your neck, to your breasts. It all made you grip his hair tightly no matter where he was focusing on your body.
“Keep going please, Steve. Everything feels so full,” you screamed incoherently.
“God, you're throbbing around me. I don’t think I can take it.” The man above you was thrusting into you at an increasingly faster pace, missing the feeling of your warm pussy every time he was even an inch out of you.
“Steve, I wanna feel you cum,” you whispered before grabbing his hair to have him stop sucking on your nipples in order to look at you.
He adored how needy you were. “Dirty little mouth, Princess.”
“Need more — need you to go faster.”
“You know I've been dreaming about this moment time and time again. Who knew all it would take is a dirty novel, isn’t that right?” Steve teased as he reached town and pinched your clit playfully.
“You’ll never regret driving me to the bookstore from now on,” you giggled in between whimpers.
In truth, you didn’t notice the way you were moving yourself upwards to meet his thrusts. It made Steve bite his lip to stop himself from cumming inside of you prematurely. “Dove, you're taking me so well — fuck — better than I’ve ever imagined,” he moaned.
“What have you imagined? What were we doing?” you asked it so innocently, stroking his chest as he continued to thrust into you.
Where did you learn how to do that? — was what he really wanted to ask. Instead, his mind started to blurt out his fantasies.
“Sometimes I’d have you like this: fucked out and cock drunk in the middle of the night. Other times it would be me bending you over while you’re studying. Always wearing those tiny skirts with the slit.”
“For you, I wear it for you. I know the yellow skirt is your favourite, isn’t it?” You teased him now.
You always noticed the way he would ask you pick things up from the floor, mention that your shoes were untied while he was standing behind you, or the way he would always take off a piece of lint from the back of your skirt — even if you had just used a lint roller on it a few moments before. He loved the way the fabric would sway, and you loved the way he looked at you. It made you feel so warm even on the windiest and coldest of days.
One thing was for certain, it definitely felt like such a tease in comparison to how your heart and body felt right now.
“You little minx,” Steve moaned as he thrusted into you faster.
“Do you think I don’t imagine you ripping my skirt into a million pieces every time you stare at me?” the words fell from your lips breathily while Steve’s pace increased more and more. “You’re not so good at recognizing mirrors in front of you when you’re staring at the back of my tiny skirt, huh?”
“God, you like it when I’m being your perv, naughty girl,” Steve stated.
“Makes me feel nice. Just like this.”
Just then, Steve made sure that his thrusts and massages on your clit were working in tandem with the way your pussy was throbbing on his cock. He could tell with the way you were arching your back more and closing your eyes, that you were bound to orgasm soon. “You’re so beautiful, dove. So beautiful and taking me so well.”
“Oh my—” your voice sounded so sweet as you looked up at him with desperation in your eyes.
“That’s it, let it happen,” Steve grunted, making sure to stop himself from cumming so that he could time it with yours.
“Faster, please,” you nearly screamed now as everything was hitting you in all the perfect spots.
Steve took that as his sign to move faster: from his hands to his hips. He loved to see the way you were reaching your climax on his cock — an image he would never get out of his mind for the rest of his life. You were squeezing his hardness tighter and tighter, with your moans getting louder in tandem. And so, Steve angled his cock upwards to try and hit your sweetest spot inside of you.
And he did.
Good god, he did.
“That’s it, that’s my dove.” He chanted over and over as you were shaking beneath him, orgasming harder than you did previously.
“S-Steve, fuck.” You rarely swear, but to know that he was the one to cause this little word to fall from lips with such grace — it was the final straw for Steve.
He began to cum inside of you, your pussy milking him with each thrust. All of his arousal was filling you up to the point where it started to spill out and glisten all over your thighs. “So tight,” he whimpered above you.
For a few moments, you both came down from your highs. With a few thrusts and kisses, you allowed your bodies and heart rates to calm down as one. It was beautiful and so bewitching to experience it all. You weren’t so sure what it would be like now. Being friends for so long meant that you both knew so much about each other. However, now, you two seemed to see a lot of each other too. There was no turning back to what it was before. Not after everything felt so good in this way.
You both looked into each other’s eyes before kissing sweetly, enveloping each other in one last kiss before breaking apart under the morning sun’s rays.
“You are so beautiful,” Steve whispered as he moved to lay next to you.
“So are you,” you smiled while cuddling close to him.
“Are you alright?” He asked sweetly, kissing your forehead in the process.
“Yeah, I guess I feel a little sore,” you giggled as you moved your head upwards to feel your lips on his again.
Steve gasped into the kiss, breaking it apart to get some tissues from his nightstand. “Do you need a bath, some water, or food?” He asked whilst wiping the remnants of his climax away on your thighs.
“I’m fine, Steve, I promise.” You smiled as he looked at you with the biggest hazel gaze.
Truthfully, you looked like a goddess glowing next to him with the dawn reflecting on your skin. He wasn’t sure if there were enough words in any dictionary to describe your beauty. Maybe not even from the book you were reading before bed. “How about you sleep for a bit and then when you wake up, I’ll have all your favourite breakfast foods on the kitchen table?” The offer was so tempting coming from Steve’s lips.
“Hmm, what if I want to help you?” You giggled. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be separate from him for too long. The place in between your thighs was begging for his touch again. “There is a scene in that book where the prince and the lady were eating breakfast and then—”
You stopped speaking when you saw Steve reach behind him to find the novel on his nightstand, before flipping pages in the book to see what you were talking about. “Maybe you should read this story to me another day and I can help you every time you get really excited during a scene,” he winked.
“Another day?”
“Yes, for now, we could get started on writing the beginning of our newest story, dove. If you would like to, of course.” Steve whispered the words as he hovered his lips above yours, teasing you with each breath that tickled your skin.
“I’d really, really love that,” you smiled up at him, bringing your arms around his neck in the process.
If one thing was for certain after tonight: both of you found comfort and love in each other’s arms — and later on in a few different sections of the book store too.
-:-:-:-:-
#my writing#writing#st fanfic#st fanfiction#fanfiction#kinktober#kinktober 2023#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington smut#LazyGhoulsKinktober2023#friends to lover#fluff#fluff and smut#best friend!steve#innocent!reader#perv!steve harrington#perv!steve harrington x innocent!reader#steve harrington x f!reader#afab reader#slight somnophilia#just the tip#st#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fic#my fic#writing prompt#steve harrington#set before season 4
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Uf!Sukuna pulling reader into the shower with him after winning a match 😮💨
Writing this bc I don't wanna deal with writing the follow up rn LMAO idk if I wanna count this as canon or not but I guess it doesn't really matter either way. Enjoy hotties!
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, underground fighter!sukuna, blood/injury detail, pet names (princess, sweetheart, baby), daddy kink, spanking, pussy eating, male masturbation, hair pulling, showerhead usage (iykyk), oral fixation, praise, mutual pining??, vaginal sex, creampie.
words: 2.6k
It doesn’t take you long to jump out of bed and rush to the front door when you hear a knock. You already know who it is. As you open the door, you see him looking down at your welcome mat, and he’s closer than you’d expected him to be. His arm resting on the door frame and the way his body is hunched over makes it seem as though he’s already inside.
He looks up at you, grinning widely, and the sight makes you gasp.
“You’re bleeding.” you say, doing all you can to stay quiet and composed so you don’t disturb Megumi while he sleeps.
He spits on the ground, a bright red glob soon washed away by the rain almost as quickly as it lands. His chest rumbles with each breath, you’ve never seen him like this before.
You’ve never had to worry about him before.
“You stood me up.” he chuckles darkly, body becoming drenched by the downpour the longer you stare at each other. “Why didn’t you come? Wanted you to see me win.”
“I—” you stop yourself, shaking the explanation away as you look at his features. The way blood perfectly frames his teeth as a bloody cut from his nose continues to pour and trickle into his mouth. “I’ve seen you fight, how did this happen? You’d never let someone land a hit on you like this.”
He moves to come in, but you block his path instantly. And at that, he rolls his eyes. It’s what he likes about you, your stubbornness. It drives him crazy. He knows you aren’t to be taken lightly and you aren’t the type of girl to yield to him without reason.
“You were meant to come watch me win tonight, princess,” he reminds you. There’s a twinge of guilt in your eye that he doesn’t miss, it even gives him an opening to let himself into your home.
He knows better than to raise his voice or do anything to make you worry. He knows how badly you strive to be a good influence to your little brother and how you only want to do right by him. He knows how guilty you feel for continuing to see him behind your brother’s back.
But he can see in your wanton stare as you look up at him so meekly, you feel even guiltier for disappointing Sukuna.
And that is why you decided not to show up tonight.
“I did win, sweetheart, don’t worry.” he tells you, putting your mind at ease. Though it’s hard to feel fully comforted knowing the state his opponent has likely been left in after giving your lover such a gnarly injury. “I did let him hit me a few times.”
“Why would you do that?” you ask him, quietly. “Why would you do something so stupid?”
“’Cause you weren’t there tonight.” he responds, a wicked grin on his face as he tells you. “Wanted your attention tonight, and look how worried you are. Do you feel bad you didn’t come and watch daddy win for you?”
“A little.” you nod. “Your face looks fucked, they really got a good hit on you. You should really get that checked out.”
“And why would I do that when I know the best doctor in town?” he raises an eyebrow. He points at his face and scoffs lightly before speaking again. “This is nothin’, princess. Don’t worry. Think you owe me after you bailed on our plans. And I don’t mean I want you to patch me up.” he smirks as he takes your hand.
You’re a little ashamed that Sukuna has been here enough times to know where everything is, now. He pulls you along to your bathroom like he lives here. Like he’s always lived here. He closes the door as you enter it, locking it behind you as he pushes you against the white painted wood.
Your breathing quickens and your lungs expand. The deep breaths you take are enough to make you lightheaded, but you can’t lose yourself when you’re around Sukuna. He demands your mental presence as well as physical, no matter what you’re doing.
He needs to know you’re with him the way he’s always with you.
“We can’t.” you shake your head. “Megumi will hear.”
“I know.” he nods, holding your chin between his thumb and forefinger before he bends down to kiss you. And you don’t resist, you never do. You never can. And he knows that. “I want to shower, ‘n I want you to come in with me, darlin’.”
He pulls away just a little so that he can lift his vest over his head and toss it aside. His muscles ripple even in the darkness of the bathroom. Your hand instinctively searches for the light, eager to see him properly. But he does it for you, easily flipping the switch so that the room fills with a cool blue light. It makes you shiver, although that could just as easily be him.
He's so imposing, so intimidating.
“Megumi will hear us, we can’t.” you remind him, and you’re met with a string of shushes before he kisses you again, the coppery taste of blood stains your tongue, but you don’t mind. You barely even notice as your own blood seems to rush to your head. He’s already pulling at your pyjama top, and you’re letting him. He strips you of the material before threading his fingers through your hair, his tongue tangling with yours as you moan into his mouth.
“I don’t care if he does,” he laughs lightly before kissing you again. “And I don’t think you do either, I think you want to fuck a winner tonight. And I want my prize.”
You don’t answer, you just kiss him again. He laughs into it as he picks you up with ease, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his torso before he carries you towards the shower.
“He’s gonna kill me for this.” you laugh too, a little breathless as he puts you down.
He yanks down your sleep shorts and lifts you into the tub. You watch him as he removes his joggers and climbs in after you, spinning you around so your back is to him. He gropes your tits roughly, lips sucking harshly into your neck as he pinches your nipples.
“Turn on the water.” he breathes into your skin, your back arching from the sensuality of his whispered tone and almost aggressive touches. You yelp as he spanks you, covering your mouth quickly when you realise what you’ve done. “Now.”
He drops to one knee as you do as you’re told, grasping the fat of your ass while you fiddle with the shower head and water settings. You try to supress another yelp as the cold water hits you first, but you’re soon distracted as Sukuna begins to grunt against your soft skin as he kisses you fervently.
“You’re perfect.” he muses, gripping your hips and prompting you to turn and face him. He looks up at you like you were heaven sent. Like you’re a gift from designed to perfectly suit him. It makes you feel like a Goddess, and it makes you moan as he places a hand under your thigh and guides you to rest your foot on the edge of the tub. “Daddy’s perfect fuckin’ pussy.”
He kisses your clit repeatedly before he begins to make out with your cunt. You throw your head back against the tiled walls, moaning louder as you watch him take hold of his length and begin to play with himself. He moans into your folds as he strokes his length calmly.
It makes you heady.
To see him so nonchalant as he touches himself, getting off to your pleasure rather than prioritising his own. You know how good he is in bed. You’ve known what a good fuck he is from the day you met.
But you’ve never been as turned on as you are now.
When he said he wanted to claim his prize, you assumed he meant he wanted to cum. You assumed he wanted to use you so that he could achieve that. But you were wrong; you misjudged him, as you often do.
He isn’t an immature fuckboy who only wants one thing from you. He’s already had it, and he still comes back to you. He wants more. He needs more. You aren’t an object to him, and you certainly aren’t an easy screw.
Fucking you has never been his prize.
It’s you.
It’s always been you.
You tug his hair roughly as your body begins to shudder, overcome with the realisation that he cares for you and not just your body. He releases his hold of himself as he once again decides to prioritise you. He grabs your hips and buries his face even further into your cunt, his licks and laves unrelenting as he torments your clit until it can’t take anymore.
“S-Sukuna!” you cry out, convulsing as your thighs clamp around his head. He doesn’t even mind. He spanks you, but there’s no intent to it. The water makes the slap louder than you’d have liked. But, again, neither of you seem to care.
He continues to moan as he devours your release, humming into your core greedily before he finally frees you. His face shimmers as he looks up at you, a look of contentment as his features are doused in a combination of the water and your arousal.
Your arms wrap around his neck as he kisses you again, and you’re soon caged between his body and the wall. You can barely think straight as water rains down on both of you, the shower doing all it can to wash away the evidence of Sukuna’s bloody brawl from his pretty face.
“You taste so fuckin’ good baby,” he mumbles clumsily against your lips, offering you praise to consume before kissing you again. “You make me fucking crazy y’know? Think about you all the time…”
“Shut up.” you laugh.
“I mean it. Don’t laugh.” he smiles down at you as he withdraws from the kiss. “You think you know everything, don’t you?”
“We’re just fucking. You’re so—”
“You talk too fucking much. You know that?” he smirks. He turns you around with ease, pressing your cheek into the damp tiles as he sucks your neck and bites your shoulder. “Think I better bury my cock in you, might stop you from thinking so much.”
You don’t say another word, allowing him full control of your mind body and soul as you succumb to his will. There’s nothing for you to grab onto despite aimlessly searching as his cockhead teases your entrance. He notes your desperation, tugging your wrist into the small of your back as he uses it for leverage while he slowly pushes into you.
He snickers as you emit a resounding moan from being stretched to your limit. It doesn’t matter how many times you do this, you’ll never get over how truly monstrous his length is. So thick and heavy, so long and suffocating. With each slow rut of your hips, you can’t help but think his cock is closing your airways.
You feel him so deeply, so intimately, you can’t stop yourself from whimpering as he fucks you harder.
Harder.
Harder.
With no desire to rush, each stroke is slow and purposeful. Your body feels weak, and weaker still as he begins to pepper your bare skin in adoring kisses. It’s almost as if you could slip down the drain and wash away with the rest of the water.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks, gruffly, grabbing your jaw to angle your face so that you’re looking at one another. “Tell me.”
“Y-You,” you answer, pathetically, and he doesn’t allow you to say another word. Not before forcing his tongue into your mouth, silencing you with a searing kissing.
“Do you want to cum, hm? Do you want to cum on daddy’s cock?”
“… Yes,” you reply, your voice nothing but a desperate rasp as you long for him to make you feel good the way only he can.
And you’re taken aback as he begins to move, you both do. Suddenly you’re facing the shower again, and you hunch forward as he reaches above you to pull it off the hook. You don’t see the grin on his face as he observes your bewilderment. You watch the metallic head lower with the intensity of a hawk.
You know what he’s doing, but you also can’t help but think you might be imagining things. He’s doing what you had done to yourself for so many years before you knew about sex toys, before you even knew why it felt so good when you let the water massage you there.
But he is.
He shoves the showerhead between your folds, the stream of water assaults your clit in a way you’d almost forgotten could be so satisfying. The pressure makes you scream, but he’s quick to cover your mouth. The shock of the showerhead had distracted you from the fact he’s still pounding into you. His pace quickens and your mind goes blank.
“Thought you didn’t want Megumi to hear? Am I making you feel too good, princesss? You wanted to cum, so you’ll cum like this.”
You nod, pitifully, too eager to finish again to think of a clever retort.
Two fingers penetrate your mouth in a bid to silence you. And you never disappoint him, it’s like he has you trained. You suck, humming contently around his digits as his thighs slam against yours again and again and again.
Your knees give in, finally, as you cum for him. He does his best to hold you in place, careful to not let you fall as your body quivers. You’re weary, he knows.
But he’s more determined than ever, now.
He puts the shower back in its place, the water becomes a blanket for you as you still continue to tremble through little aftershocks.
His movements are quicker and harsher. The warm water contrasts how you feel, how he’s holding you. He’s a behemoth of a man, without really trying you know you’ll be bruised tomorrow. Especially your thighs. The way he’s ramming into you with one goal in mind makes you heady, but all you can do is drool around his fingers.
“Fuck,” he grunts, somehow still finding the energy to fuck you harder. His fingers dig into your hips, and his breathing becomes jagged. He cums hard for you, moaning loudly as he does. It comes deep from his lungs and gives no attempt to stifle himself, it’s almost like a roar.
A beast claiming its kill.
A king claiming his prize.
“Good girl, good fucking girl,” he murmurs, once again decorating your cold skin in loving kisses.
You feel empty as he pulls out, but he doesn’t care. He pulls your body into his, wrapping his muscular arms around your frame. His lips are on yours and you feel like this is your reward. Feeling so safe and loved in his hold despite knowing what you know.
He isn’t the type of man to hold affection for, and deep down you know what you are to each other. No matter what he says you aren’t stupid. You aren’t foolish enough to think this thing between you is anything more than sex.
But right now, you don’t care.
You do feel love from him and for him.
“Will you stay?” you ask sheepishly. Despite immediately regretting asking, you can’t help but stare into his eyes as you await his answer.
And instantly, he nods. “Yeah, princess. I’ll stay.” he kisses your forehead. “Let’s get cleaned up first.”
© 2024 rinhaler
#💌 — luxe mail#📨 — requests#ryomen sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#sukuna x reader#sukuna smut#jjk x you#jjk smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu#jjk x fem!reader#tw blood#tw daddy kink#tw praise
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Twisted Wonderland - 2024 Player Birthday Login Greetings
The player birthday login greetings have just updated today on the JP server for the fourth anniversary, and I've translated them below.
These are sorted in order of dorm, and then alphabetically by character name.
Heartslabyul
Ace Trappola
❤️: 'Sup, Yuu! Happy bday. 'Kay, time for the party. I'm gonna swing by this one restaurant in town and pick us up some grub, so you wait here and- Hey, hey, I'm not trying to trick you! I do know how to celebrate birthdays, thank you very much.
Cater Diamond
♦️: Happy bday, Yuu-chan ☆ Didja post anything bday related yet on Magicam today? No? No problem, just leave it to me! I'm basically a Magicam pro at this point. I'll take the perfect pic, come up with the perfect hash tag… Just think of it as, like, the Caycay bday special~
Deuce Spade
♠️: Happy birthday, Yuu! I'm going to go buy your present now, so- …Huh? You're saying since I fixed up that light for you in Ramshackle the other day, I don't need to get you anything? Come on, don't say that. You're my friend, so let me do this for you. It'd make me a lot more happier than if I didn't get you anything, to be honest.
Riddle Rosehearts
🌹: Happy birthday, Yuu. Thank you so much for always looking after my students. Truth is, we'll be holding a salon at Heartslabyul this weekend, and as part of my well wishes to you, I'm going to have you join us. Ah, my apologies. I can see you're quite nervous, but you needn't worry - I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way.
Trey Clover
🍀: Happy birthday. Now about your gift… I did get you something, but it's, erm… When I was talking with the other students about your gift, one person would say to get you this, and then another'd say, no, get that, and after a lot of hemming and hawing I chose… this t-shirt. I don't even know anymore why I picked out this design, honestly… Ugh, if you could just go ahead and start laughing now, I'd appreciate it.
Savanaclaw
Jack Howl
🐺: Today's your birthday, right? You make any new goals for the year? What, you're gonna smoke me in class? Ha! That's the best joke I've heard in a while. But alright, I'll take you on. If you get a better grade than me on our next exam, I'll buy you something.
Leona Kingscholar
🦁: Yeah, yeah, happy birthday. …Why are you settin' up that chessboard? What, you've been takin' lessons just to beat me? An' lemme guess, now you're challengin' me to a match. You got guts - for a herbivore, at least. So whaddya gonna wager, then? Just "playin' to see who wins" ain't gonna cut it.
Ruggie Bucchi
🍩: Happy birthday! Yer dear ol' Ruggie Senpai whipped up just the perfect thing for ya. Ta-da! Yer very own fishin' pole! Handmade by yours truly. …Ooh, I know that look. I bet yer thinking', "ain't that just a piece a crap?" I'm tellin' ya, fish'll be linin' up to throw themselves at this bad boy soon as it hits the water! Listen, I know how much starvin' sucks, an' I can tell you know that, too. Next time yer stomach starts howlin' at ya, now you can just catch yerself somethin' to eat!
Octavinelle
Azul Ashengrotto
🐙: I wish you a very happy birthday. Have you already decided what you'd like for a gift? I'd be glad to arrange-… My, what excellent taste! That would be quite the challenge for the average collector to acquire… but not for me, of course! I guarantee you'll have it in your hands before you even realize it.
Floyd Leech
🦈: Heya, Little Shrimpy. Today's your birthday, right? Here, I got something for ya. Let's see, we got some gummies that taste kinda funny, and some cookies…. they're hard as rocks, though. Oh, and some mushy jerky, too. Super cool, huh? Oh yeah, and all this stuff expires today, by the way. You better not let any of it go to waste, since it's a gift an' all. Kay?
Jade Leech
🐬: My warmest wishes to you on your birthday. May this be another fruitful year for you. By the way, Yuu-san, have you already had lunch today? You haven't? Excellent, for I was hoping to prepare something for you. Worry not, I can assure you I have only the utmost best of intentions in mind. Heh heh.
Scarabia
Jamil Viper
🐍: Yuu, happy birthday. I know it's not much, but I got you this. Ramshackle's been around for so long I can't even begin to imagine how many insects have made it their home over the years. But if you use that product, you can wipe them all out in a blink of an eye. I can personally vouch for how well it works, so do go ahead and give it try. Sooner rather than later, please.
Kalim Al Asim
☀️: Yuu, happy birthday! Here's your gift… Ah ha ha! Were you surprised? I made you that pop-up card. There's these flowers we give to people on their birthdays back home in Scalding Sands, so I tried making a bunch of them with paper. Turned out pretty good, right? Nice and flashy.
Pomefiore
Epel Felmier
🍎: Happy birthday! I thought long and hard about what to get you, and ended up going with a pair of fingerless gloves! The design on em's just great, don't you think? I thought they'd be a good choice since you can still use your phone and stuff without them getting in the way. They already look super cool, and once you break them in, then they'll really start to shine. Wear them as much as you can, okay?
Rook Hunt
🏹: I've been waiting for you, Trickster, so that I might give you my birthday well wishes. A wonderful day calls for making wonderful memories, and to that end, I've constructed the perfect itinerary for us. We'll start off with two theater performances, followed by a live poetry recital, and then we'll wrap things up with a movie this evening. There shan't be a dull moment today. Now come! The theater awaits!
Vil Schoenheit
👑: Happy birthday, Yuu. …Hm? You'd like me to come to your party? And you you even went and made sure there'll be healthy food options available for me? …Hah, that's quite thoughtful of you. Very well, then. I'll stop by. Just don't forget - you should consider it an honor to receive my well wishes.
Ignihyde
Idia Shroud
💀: Okay, time to pretend we're all chummy with each other and spout the usual "HaPpY BiRtHdAy" garbage… Eep! D-did you hear all that? U-Umm… Happy birthday... Sorry, but I didn't get you anything. I didn't even know it was your bday, so… What, you're happy just 'cause I wished you happy birthday? Are you serious? *sigh* Okay, I'll order something online later and have it sent to Ramshackle. It's just gonna be something small, tho.
Ortho Shroud
🤖: Happy birthday! Here's your gift. Go ahead, open it! Heh heh, did you notice what's on it? I used my lasers to engrave "Happy Birthday!" and some other well wishes on that glass tumbler. It was difficult controlling the output when doing the finer details, but I think it came out pretty nice. I hope you like it!
Diasomnia
Lilia Vanrouge
🦇: Ah, that's right. Today's your birthday, isn't it? Goodness, kids really do grow up so fast… Kufufu. Oh, don't be so sour. I was just doing my grandpa bit, the boys at the dorm never indulge me. Now then, here's your present: a CD I made just for you! It's jam-packed with my most heartfelt screamo performances, and I hope you enjoy every second of it.
Malleus Draconia
🐲: It's your birthday today, isn't it, Child of Man? …? What's the matter? Your face looks awfully stern… Ah, now I understand. You're having trouble carrying around all those presents. Here, allow me to send them to Ramshackle for you using my magic. You needn't worry, it's but a trivial spell for me. Now then, I hope you enjoy today to the fullest.
Sebek Zigvolt
⚡: Today is your birthday, if I do recall… What? You wish for me to attend your party? What a boorish joke. I've no time to take part in such a… What? THE YOUNG LORD SHALL BE ATTENDING!? YOU SHOULD'VE MENTIONED THAT TO BEGIN WITH! Good grief… You truly are an unpleasant little human, you know that? Now then, tell me at once where the party shall be held, and at what time!
Silver
⚔️: Happy birthday. Hm? You want to know what this cord is? It's actually your present. I heard about this from Lilia Senpai, but… apparently, they say that if you wrap some string around your wrist or ankle, and it breaks over time, then your wish will come true. I wove this for you, so that your wish can come true some day. I know it's pretty crude looking, but please go ahead and take it, if you'd like.
Ramshackle
😺: Today's your birthday? Happy birthday! …Huh? Where's your present? Oh, come oooon. You're my number one henchman! Ain't that a present enough? Okay, fine. Your lap's always super hard when I sit on it, so I'll give ya a good ol' fashioned paw pad massage!
(Crowley and Rollo's messages remain unchanged)
#twst#twisted wonderland#twst jp#riddle rosehearts#cater diamond#ace trappola#deuce spade#trey clover#leona kingscholar#ruggie bucchi#azul ashengrotto#jade leech#floyd leech#jamil viper#kalim al asim#epel felmier#vil schoenheit#rook hunt#idia shroud#ortho shroud#lilia vanrouge#malleus draconia#sebek zigvolt#twst silver#voice lines
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