#as someone who used to get really riled up in this discussion

[s4bbatical]

Please, Please, Please, Let Me Get What I Want | Part 1. (Rivals Declan O'Hara x Reader)

Part 2 here.

Warnings: Profanities, sexual tension, alcohol and cigarette use.

Author's note: I'm not exactly staying on top of the timeline of rivals, bare this in mind as you read. Of course with any self inserts, it's an AU with a bit of tweaking. No smut involved in this chapter, just fluff until I post more parts. AGE GAP (22!Reader). Thanks for reading.

It was your first week at the Corinium. You were a fresh-faced journalist straight out of Washington State University who had accepted an internship at the independent commercial television station in the county of Rutshire, England. Far from home and comfort, you strived to be the best at what you were asked to do. The pay was good, and the idea of being in another continent where anything was possible kept your drive at an all-time high. You were practicing your decorum quietly to yourself at your desk, fiddling with your pen.

"Already going mad, are you?" Your co-worker and new friend Seb asks, grinning as he puts down his homework on your desk.

You laugh awkwardly, crossing your leg over the other as you lean back to look up at the ginger. "If I have to hear Tony Baddingham cuss out another person because Declan O'Hara is too stubborn to take his lead," You quip, closing your own folder of paperwork. "I think I'll start drinking more." You exasperate, recalling the sudden outburst from Tony's office a mere five minutes ago. Seeing Declan O'Hara riled up was never a great sign, but you couldn't help but run your eyes over his sculpted arms when he took off his blazer in frustration.

"I think you need to start drinking more in general, y/n. You're in England now. We all have a problem." Seb comments, half-sitting on your desk. "You should come with us to Bar Sinister. It's owned by Basil, Tony's brother." He says, crossing his arms.

You raise a brow. "I thought we were assigned to get dirt on the next guest on Declan's and have it in by Monday. Wouldn't that cut into our research time?" You query.

Seb laughs. "You Americans are such workaholics." He shakes his head. "Come get a drink with us!" He pleas, hitting your arm lightly. "Those reputations aren't going anywhere. Besides, we're all going, you'll be the odd one out if you don't."

"All of you?" You say, looking across the room at Declan O'Hara. He's speaking to someone on the phone in his office, the blinds open enough to allow you for a peek. God, what a man he was.

"Yes, all of us. I can't speak for Tony or Declan, though." Seb hums, the feeling of disappointment washing over you. "I'd like to see you there, though." He adds, the both of you sharing a lingering gaze before he gets up and walks away.

If you didn't know any better, you'd think your colleague was flirting with you. You didn't mind it, really. Seb was attractive, and only a year younger than you. Unfortunately, you just had a taste something a little more aged. Everyone seemed to want to fuck each other in this office. You barely managed to avoid the claws of some of the older men yourself, not that you were complaining-- besides the fact none of them were Declan O'Hara.

You decide to stand up, grabbing ahold of your folder before boldly heading over to Mr. O'Hara's office. You slowly knock on the ajar door to get his attention before you step in.

"-We'll discuss this later. Goodbye." Declan says into his phone, hanging it up when he notices you. "Y/n, hello. What can I do for you?" He asks, putting his hands behind his back as he leans back in his chair.

Many things. You think to yourself, trying to look away from his stretched out torso before speaking. "I was just wondering if I could help you with anything else before I leave today Mister O'Hara? I just noticed you seem a bit stressed, maybe I could take something off of your plate if possible." You say, smoothing out your skirt.

He chuckles lightly, leaning forward to take a sip of his whiskey on the rocks. "Call me Declan, love. No need for so much professionalism." He sighs, your heart skipping a beat at his words of endearment as he runs a hand through his hair. "I'm 'fraid not. Tony's up my arse, and my wife's trying to throw this ridiculously expensive party for my son's birthday which also happens to be New Year's and..." He notices your glimmer of concern in your eyes, staring into them as if he got distracted. "I uh," He shakes his head. "Don't worry about it." He says, waving it off.

"I'm sorry, that does seem like an awful lot." You say, your cheeks reddening from his stare. "You don't deserve that, you know. The way Mister Baddingham treats you." You mutter, toying with the folder in your arms.

Declan chuckles, pulling out a cigarette and popping it into his mouth. "Try telling him that." He says wryly, lighting up the smoke.

"Well Declan, there's a group of us going to Bar Sinister later, if you'd like to unwind. God knows we both need it." You try to joke, laughing awkwardly as Declan gives you a look. You clear your throat, straighten your spine. "Sorry, just a suggestion." You mumble.

He laughs genuinely this time, inhaling his cigarette again. "You're funny, y/n. I thought it would be intolerable hiring an American journalist-"

"Hey!" You interject, gasping playfully.

"But!" Declan holds a hand up, stopping you from speaking further. "You're quite lovely to have around. I enjoy your presence." He says, smiling at you. "I hope you consider a permanent placement in the future."

Your face lights up, a big smile on your face now. "Thank you Mister- Declan." You correct yourself. He laughs again. "But I would have to become apart of your personal board to get approved for anything like that." You add.

"Well," Declan says, putting out his cigarette in the ashtray. "I hope you don't mind if I consider that possibility y/n. You have a lot of potential, and I admire your drive." He admits, clasping his hands together and putting them on his desk.

"I am very flattered, Declan. Thank you." You say, looking down before meeting his gaze again. "It's been a pleasure working for you." The undertone of your words hint at something beyond, causing Declan to tilt his chin up a bit to analyze you.

There was something about you that had caught his attention since you first set foot in Corinium, and he couldn't seem to shake his mind from it. It was like a guilty pleasure he could never acknowledge out loud.

The phone rings. Declan nods towards it, signaling for the conversation to end. "See you tonight, y/n." He finishes, taking the phone off it's mantle as you feel heat beginning to simmer in your abdomen, nodding before leaving his office and closing the door behind you.

You have a wide grin on your face as you make your way back to your desk, hastily returning to your work in order to keep the evening free.

-

Much to your surprise, it was karaoke night at the bar. There was a good mix of random patrons and recognizable faces taking turns singing out ballads.

You and Seb were sat at the bar, him sipping on a Guinness as you had a vodka soda. Classic American, he commented when you ordered it.

“You gonna go up there?” You ask Seb, gesturing towards Freddie Jones who was pouring his heart out on the mic.

“Mm, possibly. What’d you reckon I sing? I’m tone deaf but maybe if everyone gets drunk enough no one will notice.” He jokes, earning a fit of laughter from you both.

“I love The Cure if that’s any help.” You suggest, finishing your vodka soda.

Seb quickly gestures for the bartender to bring over a bottle of wine. He notices your curious expression, shrugging his shoulders. “Company’s paying for this shite, not me." He explains. "Also, The Cure? I like 'em, but they’re not gonna translate with these guys.” He says, drinking his pint. He pours you a glass of wine as you glance around the space, trying to spot Declan anywhere.

“What about Last Christmas? You know, by Wham? It’s almost Christmas after all.” You say, already pouncing on your glass of wine.

“I do like that one, maybe I’ll do it yeah.” Seb says nonchalantly, finishing his Guinness. “I’ll go right now, actually.” He suddenly gets up, walking through the crowd.

You grab the wine bottle itself and take a swig from it, feeling the alcohol flush out your face. You hated how it made your cheeks red like you were ashamed to be plastered.

You finally see the man you were waiting for enter the place, scanning the room before his eyes landed on yours. You give Declan a timid wave, causing him to walk over as Seb began singing on stage. “You made it!” You exclaim, returning to pouring the wine into your glass so you seemed classy in front of your inappropriate work crush.

“Yes, sorry. Had to stay later at the office to do more flawed research.” He jests, nodding towards the bartender who already knew his regular. Declan referred to finding dirt on his guests as flawed research, mainly so it didn’t seem so inane in conversation.

"You're very dedicated to your work, I'm surprised you have time for any of this." You say, allowing yourself to speak more freely now that you were definitely tipsy.

"My wife would say the same." He sighs, taking a sip of his glass of whiskey.

You take another sip of your glass, trying to conceal your distaste at the mention of his wife. "Is she not very pleased with you, Declan?" You ask, causing your boss's face to harden. "I'm sorry," You quickly add. "That's personal I shouldn't have said that, that's so stupid of me-"

"Y/n." Declan says, putting a hand on your arm. You feel your body burn up at his touch. "It's okay, really. It's actually relieving to know you don't know anything about my martial problems. Everyone does." He says dryly, taking another sip of his whiskey. "She's not too keen on me being obsessed with my job. She compares it to cheating on her, which I find rather hypocritical considering..." He trails off, smiling at you. "Forget it." He raises his glass, clinking yours. "To you, for being an amazing intern." He slams back his glass, putting it down and grabbing ahold of the aged bottle of whiskey to pour himself.

You smile awkwardly, raising your glass before taking another sip of your wine. You piece it together in your head, realizing that his wife must've committed adultery; just like almost every other married person you've worked alongside so far. "Jesus, Declan. I'm sorry." You mumble, hearing Seb's singing end in the distance.

"Please, don't apologize. It wasn't your fault." Declan says, a look of yearning in his eyes.

"If I were her, I'd never do anything of the sort. If I was with someone like you I'd cherish it everyday." You say, finishing your glass of wine.

Declan raises a brow, chuckling heartily. "And someone would be very, very lucky to have you y/n." He replies, the two of you locked in a stare.

You were definitely drunk by now, and wine always gave you an edge to flirt with whomever you found most attractive in the room. You place a hand on his arm, finally knowing what it was like to feel his muscles through the thin material of his button up. "You deserve better, Declan." You say, rubbing your thumb along his bicep. You watch as the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, placing his hand over yours on his arm.

"How'd you think I did?" Seb asks, returning the bar and interrupting the moment between you and Mr. O'Hara. You pull back, turning yourself to face Seb.

"You did great, Seb." You say, pressing a kiss on his cheek, causing his face to go as red as his hair. "I think I'm gonna give it a shot, show the English what talents an American has." You grin, unable to make eye contact with Declan out of embarrassment for trying to flirt with a married man. However, the commonality of cheating on spouses here still gave you a sliver of hope as you walked towards the stage, a mask of confidence due to alcohol consumption.

"What song are you gonna do?" Seb asks, following in suit.

"You'll see." You say. You walk up to the host, whispering a song in their ear. They nod, giving you a thumbs up as you get on the stage.

Head Over Heels by Tears for Fears starts to play, causing the entire place to riot with excitement. You grin madly, grabbing ahold of the microphone as the lyrics begin to play. You watch as Declan makes his way through the crowd, standing between Freddie and Seb to watch you perform.

"I wanted to be with you alone And talk about the weather But traditions I can trace against the child in your face Won't escape my attention."

You dance along to the music, singing freely like no one was watching.

"You keep your distance via the system of touch And gentle persuasion I'm lost in admiration, could I need you this much? Oh, you're wasting my time You're just, just, just wasting time..."

You now make eye contact with Declan O'Hara, singing the chorus. Everyone's dancing around, paying no mind to where your attention was.

"Something happens and I'm head over heels I never find out until I'm head over heels Something happens and I'm head over heels Ah, don't take my heart, don't break my heart Don't, don't, don't throw it away..."

Declan watches you in admiration, realizing you're singing directly at him. You look away for the rest of the song, only returning your gaze when the chorus comes up again. When the song ends, you give a little curtesy, putting the mic back on the stand as everyone cheers madly.

"That was brilliant, y/n!" Seb exclaims, holding you in an embrace. You laugh, hugging him back. "Thanks, Seb."

"Seb, can you do one with me?" Daysee asks, causing Seb to pull away from you. "Course, what're you thinking?" The two of them walk away, leaving you be to earn compliments from the rest of your colleagues.

"You have a great voice." Declan says, causing you to turn and face him. "Great song, too." He adds.

"Thanks, it was a personal choice." You say, the next song starting up. Dreams by Fleetwood Mac starts playing, Seb and Daysee's choice. "Fuck, I love this song." You exclaim, looking over at the stage as your friends begin to sing along.

"As do I," Declan says. "Care to dance?" He asks, causing your gaze to return to his outstretched hand.

You smile. "I'd love to." You place one hand on his shoulder, the other in his hand as he places a hand on the small of your back. Your breathing becomes more shallow as the two of you rock to the music, staring into each other's eyes.

You didn't know if you were simply too drunk to acknowledge the reality of the situation, but you couldn't help but wonder if Declan was starting to like you a little more than just an intern that was great at her job.

The space between the two of you becomes insignificant, your head slowly leaning onto his chest as his hand moves down to your lower back, staying at the top of your skirt. You close your eyes as the two of you rock in sync, hearing his heart beat rather triumphally. Your stomach is full of butterflies, and the heat between your legs is almost unbearable as he rubs small circles on your lower back.

He smelled like Tom Ford cologne and Marlboro Golds with an undertone of whiskey, the scent of him nearly more intoxicating than the alcohol itself. You feel his chest vibrate as he quietly sings along to the song, causing you to pull your head back to look at him. You both start singing along, your faces merely inches away from each other.

"When the rain washes you clean, you'll know You'll know You will know Oh, you'll know.."

The song ends, everyone erupting into applause as you register the proximity of you and Declan, taking a step back as you notice the stares of your colleagues.

"Thanks for the dance." You mumble, looking down at the ground. "I uh, need to find Seb he's my ride." You say abruptly, leaving Declan stunned on the dancefloor as you hurriedly approach your ginger colleague. "Can you drive me home now?" You ask, putting a hand on his arm.

"Uh, yeah. Sure. Do you need a ride too Daysee?" He asks, the blonde shaking her head.

"'M alright. I'll see you lads on Monday." She says, grinning as the two of you grab your coats from the bar stools.

"Goodbye, Declan." You say, making eye contact with the brooding man who simply looks at you.

"Goodnight, y/n." He responds, inhaling his cigarette before looking away.

You feel a pang in your chest as you look at Declan for another moment, expecting more. He says nothing else. Seb leads you away from the bar, allowing you to let go of any longing between you and Mr. O'Hara.

Declan knew it was wrong to think of you in any other light outside of work. Even if Maud had cheated on him before, with the tendency to keep going at it, he still couldn't shake the guilt away just yet. He retreated to disregarding you as a means to hopefully make you both forget about the whole ordeal, as if he wasn't thinking about what it would be like to have his hands underneath that tight pencil skirt of yours.

He groaned and ran a hand through his hair, lighting another cigarette. The holiday season was about to be a real hassle, and he was afraid of asking Santa for what he really wished for this time around.

-

guys... i finally did it... declan o'hara i want you so bad. i think im just gonna write a part two to this maybe three, and leave it at that. if you have any requests pweaseee leave them for meeee this show has me in a CHOKEHOLD.

much love as always, isabel

[general-yasur]

Going into my filtered tags to attempt to block the conversation of Lloyds age only to find that I’ve already tried before… when will i be free from these chains

[rene-darling]

MY- lovely tutor.

Wanderer who's recently enrolled in the Akademia due to nahidas request requires some assistance with his studies, sadly he doesn't have much money but you have the perfect solution for that.

...wanderer...

This is annoying, when Nahida enrolled him into the Akademia he didn't think the work would be this hard! Reports on top of reports on topics he hasn't even heard of!

So when you offer a helping hand he's a bit skeptical. What do you want? Why are you trying to help him?

He's not sure of your motives but he has seen and read your previous works so he is confident in your abilities as someone smart.

It starts with small, innocent little touches that get him riled up, he feels like a perv! He shouldn't be this turned on by you just leaning over from behind him and whispering an explanation of what he did wrong. He shouldn't be this riled up but just the soft touch of your hand on his waist whenever he gets upset at getting something wrong.

Your hands going up and down the side of his waist, his shirt would ride up ever so slightly as you would comfort him and reassure him that it's fine if he gets it wrong the first few times, in fact, it's normal. But he's not sure if he even heard half of that as he was too focused on your touch.

How you would look over his shoulder as he wrote something, his hands would tremble as he could feel your breath on his neck your hair would tickle the side of his ear as he would get distracted from doing his work and just focus on your breathing causing him to get his answers wrong.

He swore he felt his eyes roll back whenever he heard your slight groan in response to him getting an answer wrong, so he does just that. Getting the answers wrong again and again just to see your reaction, and when you finally get fed up and place a hand on his shoulder using the other to grab his chin and turn it towards you as you cursed at him for being a dumb whore and not knowing how to solve even the basics...

Oh, archons. He knows he should feel guilty, he knows he should stop messing with you, but when he sees that pissed-off look of yours staring daggers at him. Fuck. His thighs rub together on instinct, he can feel his panties getting stained wet. Fuck, this shouldn't turn him on..but he can't help it

When your eyes sharply look down at him he can feel a slight shudder run through him "oh what the fuck...you enjoyin this? Really? Hah- you some kind of perv wanderer??"

He shakes his head furiously denying your claim but with the way his thighs clam together the real answer is obvious. "you know, we still haven't discussed how you're gonna pay me back for these study sessions.." you would say as you eye him up and down, it seems you already have an idea for how he's gonna pay you back.

..."come on wanderer. It's easy you should know this by now." he does! He swears he does! But- it's too hard to answer while you've got him sitting on your lap all spread out as his juices leak down onto your clothed legs. It's embarrassing being the only one naked!

"ah-a-..ah hah- y/n- mhfm!!" tears leak down his flushed cheeks as I slap his ass in feigned annoyance. "y/n? That isn't the answer now is it, hm,?" he nods his head up and down but still doesn't speak. You can only sigh as your hand comes to a halt and he lets out a whine back arching as he turns his head to look at you.

Your hand still resting near where he wants it but not near enough as you trace small circles in his innermost thighs which cause him to shiver

Breathy sighs leave his trembling lips as he complains "Y-y/n...come on, what the hell.." he whines dragging out the last part, his brows furrow further as his mouth twists into a pout as you laugh, you jerk your legs causing him to rub against them "ah! Y/n! I-im- fuck. Stop" he whines, he doesn't like being teased "alright, alright.." you mumble into his ear from behind

"Only smart boys get to cum. But you haven't answered a single question wanderer," you said so sternly. Fuck that was hot. he swears he started leaking more down there. He closes his legs as he blushes harder "Ya- f-fuck I'll solve one right now..then ill prove to you I'm a smart boy..who deserves to cum.." he squeaked out the last part in shame unable to say it too loud, he was too embarrassed

He leans forward crawling off your lap with shaky legs, on all fours he tries crawling forward towards the table so he can solve a damn question and finally get fucked right.

Fuck. He feels his knees buck inwards as he topples over the table across the scattered books and papers. He bites his lip to the point of bruising it. Fuck, are you crazy?

He's sure if he looked back your face would have an amused expression on it as you had just plunged your fingers deep inside him causing him to cry out as he arched over the table as you lazily pumped your fingers he was about to say something in his broken little voice but you spoke up instead "what're you waiting for darlin? Come on, solve." ah- you were so cruel. He could feel the tears prick at his eyes some even escaping them and falling on the papers below

While biting his teeth he took a deep breath as he shakily lifted his legs a bit more straight leaning against the table for support as he shakily grabbed the pen "d-dont...ah! Won't m-move too much." he whispered quietly.

He's not sure why he thought you would listen. Well, right now he's too busy getting fucked to think anyways. Limbs spread out on the table as your fingers seemed to plunge more roughly and deeper each time. He dripped on the table all over the discarded papers some of which fell down onto the floor your name leaves his mouth like a Chant as you deny him release once more he whines, cries out to you looking back at you with rosy cheeks that are stained with tears

"please- please let me cum..fuck i-i need to cum please" his last words dragged out as he whined and cried pleading desperately for his dear sweet release. He let out a surprised gasp as you pulled him to your lap wrapping your arms around him as you lean into his ear "Darling, only smart boys get to cum." ah. He's gonna start crying more you're so mean...

He swears he hates you and that he's never gonna come back, but not even a week later he's crawling back begging for your touch.

He's a good boy so he's learned your rules by now, if he gets the answers right he gets to cum, but if not...then he's getting edged the entire night and perhaps if you're feeling generous you'll squeeze one measly release out of him

Sometimes you're feeling a bit evil and you'll make the questions harder or, you'll simply lie. When he gets the answers correct you simply lie telling him it's wrong and then fucking him stupid before he gets the chance to think that you're lying.

Oh, but he takes you so well! He might be bratty but he's your smart boy!!

He'll take whatever punishment you give him for being a dumb little boy and not getting the answers correct as long as you hold him afterwards

But as soon as he comes to his senses he'll book out of that room faster than his mother left him.

He's far too embarrassed to face you after all you've done.

He'll purposefully avoid you in class but you don't have to worry, because at the end of the day he always comes crawling back.

[lune-redd]

Hello, it's Lelly.

As you may know, I have recently deactivated my Twitter account. A lot of people are speculating I left because I was being harassed for drawing my older depiction of Bubbles from The Powerpuff Girls as chubby. However... that's not the direct reason I left. In fact, I didn't really see much of the comments of folks on there getting riled up about it as I muted the tweet the morning I saw that it blew up. I was only merely aware of it all by being told about it from friends, with there being some other users on the site making other really fuckin' stupid comments about my art.

This does however lead into why I actually left Twitter, and it's because of Twitter's overall toxic nature. Overtime, I've really gotten sick of how absolutely revolting Twitter has become to experience. The site is basically built around dunk culture and doom scrolling. You know that one tweet of someone making an example of Twitter's utter stupidity by using pancakes and waffles as an example?

I bring this up because I think this fits my point about how Twitter has this thing of assuming the absolute worst about the most insignificant things, even the most innocuous. The "Bubbles obesity" comments weren't the only stupid comments that came out of that post. I also got a quote retweet that I was "forcefully feminizing Buttercup", even though the whole fucking point of that drawing was to depict a usually tough character in an unusual situation for her. I have also gotten stupid comments on other drawings though, like the one where Mitch pushes Buttercup down for trying to look taller than she is and I got called a misogynist for it, though I'm pretty sure that one was bait (Twitter users have a tough time figuring out what is and isn't bait, it's dunk culture that I'm about to talk about really doesn't help this).

The site's dunk culture is also really fuckin' bad. Quote retweets are a disease, as unlike Tumblr's reblog comments, quote retweets count as a different post. Someone disagrees with you? Show your audience how stupid they are on your page! Hey, are you trying not to see the most abhorrent racist statement imaginable? Well TOO BAD FUCK YOU here's a le epic own giving them all the attention in the world even though one of the most common internet rules are DON'T FEED THE FUCKIN' TROLLS YOU IDIOT. Oh hey, are you trying to explain how you prefer a certain artistic choice over another in something you like? Well you're a deranged ungrateful whiny nitpicker, get owned!

I've seen so many of my friends be belittled for simply discussing their artistic preferences of things they're passionate about. I had a friend who said he prefers the original Crash Bandicoot design over his redesigned look in Crash 4, and had legitimate reasons for why he felt that way (even if he didn't really explain them clearly), and he got dunked for it which made me mad. I'm sick and tired of it all. The reaction to my art is only a mere example of the shit I despise about that site.

I had been planning on leaving Twitter for quite some time, as my follower count was growing nearer and nearer to 10K. I had planned on leaving after 10K followers because that amount was wayyyy too fuckin big for me to handle. I'm a young and growing lad, and I felt it wouldn't be good for my mental sanity to handle all that, so I dipped. The amount of attention I've been getting is simultaneously both wonderful and extremely overwhelming. Even the explosion of new followers and asks on here is quite the load! (Seriously, calm the fuck down y'all) I am very grateful for all the supportive asks I've gotten even though I won't be able to answer them all, thank you all so very much.

tl;dr I didn't leave Twitter because I was being harassed or anything, but rather because of the site's overall toxic and belittling environment.

Adios.

-Lelly

[scentedpepper]

Attempted Vehicular Manslaughter

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Summary: Max Mayfield hosts a pool party.

Content Warnings: Use of the F-slur, Use of Queer in a derogatory manner, Injuries, Verbal Abuse, Abusive Household Dynamics, Reader makes a 'if I wanna kms' joke

Other Pairings: Nancy Wheeler x Male Reader, Jonathan Byers x Male Reader, Max Mayfeild x Male Reader, Mike Wheeler x Male Reader

AUTHOR NOTE(S):

Oh brother we got a chatterbox

Had a dream about this ya'll

Readers a little sassy

Reader has a little brother

Reader has a bit of savior complex

Readers also kinda impulsive?

It's 3 am

_________________________________________

The grass was rough and patchy in the backyard, filled to the brim with wilted daisies and weeds crawling through the sprinklers. It was hardly worth a note of much consideration, as there had been nothing of great importance to discuss. There were many trees boarding the house. Pine or oak, maybe. And one dying cherry tree that was a stand alone in the yard. That was about the extent of anything substantial past the old silver fence that matched your shoes.

Nearest the house, under the shade, were several lawn chairs designated for the so-called "chaperones". The older brothers and sisters of the tweens. But really, it was nothing more than a cover-up.

Something to appease the parents' of the Hargrove house because Max knew it was odd to be friends with a group of kids the same age as her brother. Even her mother, who'd tried to remain impartial to any situation, narrowed her eyes and shifted her purse tighter when the suggestion of more than a couple 17 year old's parading around her house came.

Your mom was just happy you got along, let alone made some real friends outside the books, and encouraged the notion. More parental control, she reasoned. Less chances you were off with someone who intended on trouble.

Of course, all the shit about fighting monsters and being on the brink of death with these same friends wasn't factored in.

But no one besides them and the sheriff's deputy needed to know that.

The first time you had met the kids was, admittedly, what one would refer to as a kerfuffle. Riled up and trying to be dominant. Of course, because Billy was there, it spiraled even farther, and someone's head nearly got bashed into a rock.

That someone being you of obviously, after you'd been goaded into the fight and decided to step up. And boy, did Billy hate to lose. Hated being talked down to by a smaller kid who barely had pimples left on his face, let alone bulk.

You put up a good fight. You had a mean hit, especially the lick you gifted to Billy's chest, knocking the wind out of him when it connected. There was a bruise on his ribcage for days after and all the satisfaction he could possibly imagine at knowing it was from you.

But then he nearly killed you so, things turned sour rather quickly.

Which led to a rather impromptu welcome into the group of misfits, the lot of them. Unannounced and unexpected, you marched into the party after your small break down. Ready to be let in and accepted.

Finding out about the Upside Down was a mere accident.

You hadn't gone out of your way to befriend a group of children. Hadn't expected much in regards to friendship period even after getting your ass kicked by Billy Hargrove. Let alone a lifetime, one built from the shared experience of the horrors that lurk just underneath town, attached to one particular boy of the group.

But here you were. Standing in the backyard of Max's home like an idiot with the sun bearing down at your back. The late summer day nearly reached over 100 degrees as the clock neared the noon hour. Something you might have missed otherwise if it wasn't for the black analog watching you closely every time you renetered the house for a drink.

The main gaggle of kids swam and screamed every few seconds, trying to drag you into a half-baked game of Marco Polo that had the older Hawkins teens eyeing each other with concern.

You tapped the top of your can to ease the anxiety, looking around the edge of the yard again, past Max's mother, who waved awkwardly and would come around every so often, offering drinks or food to you, Nancy, and Jonathan.

"Nervous?" Jonathan prodded in his way, looking up from the half eaten sandwhich Will had taken two large bites from, making sure he had gotten his fill and packing it away when he received two big thumbs up from his little brother before he rentered the pool.

"Ah. " You leaned against the lawn chair, rolling your neck before looking over. "Expecting Billy to jump out from one of these corners, " you gesture towards the many hiding places you have spotted in the yard. "cause a scene. "

Nancy shifted uncomfortably, twisting her skirt slightly. "Not yet, at least. " She added while fidgeting with the button over the waist. "I thought he'd show up at least half-way through this thing. "

"Yeah, " you agreed, "thats why I'm–"

"On edge?" Jonathan filled in for you, a soft smile gracing his lips as Will looked over.

"Ready, he means. " Mike piped up, his hand was fully plunged into the cooler chest, blindly shifting around the ice as he looked over at the three.

Something in the tension held firm in the pit of your stomach, because the only times that this happened was whenever a confrontation was supposed to take place.

And judging from all the past events that had occurred, however mundane or fantastical they may be, this was probably going to end badly in more than just a couple of ways.

You'd managed to keep pretty calm in the past concerning Billy. Kept a level head about whatever shit he'd decided to cause that week. But something felt wrong today. That air in your gut had been hard to shake.

And the fact he had yet to make an appearance so far, did very little in easing you. And apparently everyone else involved.

"Don't know what his fucking problem is. " You curse, sitting up in the chair, "Never waits long to start shit."

In fact, you can almost pinpoint the time he entered the premises, an excuse to blame him for the sudden tightening in your gut and the goosebumps on your skin. Yet, he hadn't entered the backyard once since he got home. He stayed holed up in his room the entire day and that much was evident every time you, or Nancy, or Jonathan or one of the kids entered the house and heard the rock music blasting from his bedroom.

He hadn't even made a shadow to have showed his face.

For hours you waited.

Hours of worry and unease ate away at your gut while the rest of the party commenced unhindered.

And yet, it seemed all but for nothing in the grand scheme of things. Because as the sun started to lower from its zenith, you and the rest grew more tired and eventually, the temperature started to cool to a point where splashing around in the pool was no longer appropriate.

The kids came clamoring out, dripping in more chemicals than water, screaming and laughing in the process. It was getting near the five hour mark by then.

Your mind was heavy when you stood up to go inside, nearly tripping when your eyes clashed with the eldest person in the home, the both of you freezing awkwardly in the middle of the walk.

Both you and Max's mother were silent in each others presence. Stoic if there was ever a word for it.

Neil always seemed to be staring off into nothing, zoned out to some far away place only those who drowned themselves in alcohol and other momentary pleasures existed. They didn't interact, besides maybe the occasional conversation starter, or nod in passing whenever a person came too close for an inch of comfort. Not unusual in your opinion of strained marriages.

You began to speak, went to get yourself out of this weird positioning you've seemed to found yourself in. But Susan beat you to it.

"Can you do me a favor?" She beckoned before turning around and trotting off into the kitchen. Already assuming you would listen. You usually did. There weren't any hidden agendas for her actions and nothing against you personally.

She held some power that you wished wasn't. You would take just about any job that required you to be away from the current obstacles of your personal life. But as she turned back to look at you with that indescribable air and knowing nod, she had beaten you.

"Whats up?" You replied, voice more gravely then you meant it to be as you walked up behind her. She was sticking something into the microwave.

"Bye, Y/N/N. " Nancy had emerged from the Hargrove bathroom when she stood on her toes to place a friendly kiss on your cheek before joining Jonathan.

"See ya, Nance. " You say as the dark haired girl glided away, passing a wave to Jonathan and then they were out the front door.

The house was mostly empty now with nearly all the kids back home, and Dustin and Max tucked away in her room, waiting for Dustin's mother. There was enough silence now that you were itching to leave. The house had settled quiet, but you couldn't describe it as comfortable. There was a ribbed blanket across the couch that had obviously been sat on by its dishelved look.

The TV was on but the volume had been lowered so much that you were better off listening to Billy's faint music from down the hall for entertainment.

Water rushed from somewhere on the other side of the house and the distinct slam of a door being pulled shut gave you the visual to what you were hearing. Your little brother, most likely. You'd seen him dip down the hallway like he was about to shit himself the moment Nancy exited the bathroom.

You shifted around, placing your backside agaisnt the counter as you found new things to look at. Languidly, you watched, senses picking out different things around the house to latch on to. The light green walls, the ugly brown patterns on the carpet, the hum of the refrigerator that, strangely enough, harbored no family photos, just magnets with various corny sayings.

Your eyes lingered on the fridge.

Everything here was simple. Blank like a fresh canvas of dry paint. Apart from the dishes left in the sink and the few items of clothing to be picked up off the ground, it felt oddly wrong for an occupied residence.

"Y/N?"

A shift in the environment rippled over your skin and something felt charged but not in a fearful sort of way. You're pulled from your small internal worry by the same woman from before.

"Billy hasn't come from his room all day, mind taking this to him?"

Susan's got a glass plate in her hand, slightly extended our towards you. It's filled at every turn with food she'd transfered from the tupperware after the ding of the microwave you hadn't quite heard.

That same gut feeling crawled up your insides again, but you blamed the way your throat tightened on the anxiety. Why it was something now and not earlier, you can't be sure.

But, if there's one thing you learned from movies and popular tv shows, it's never to interrupt the motherfucker when he's listening to rock. But, here's your excuse. So, with a small nod and the plate in your hand, you try to shake it all away.

Because the worst that could happen is you get your ass beat again.

Stepping up to the wood slated door gave your lungs a run for their money. It was as if all the air had been sucked from the atmosphere and the pressure collapsed the walls around you. Only breathing through your nose you shook the fear away with a raised fist to the door, clenched the plate in your opposite hand.

Bass rattled through the floor and past the wooden door, you're graced with the faint sounds of the guitar on the stereo. There were bits of vocals in the background, a baritone voice that spoke. And perhaps that was part of the appeal. Your fingers danced on the metal that resided at the entrance. It felt cool on your skin.

You knocked again after a few seconds. Nothing sounded on the other side of the door but you were still unsure if Billy could hear you above the music. Maybe he'd turn it down once his father returned from whatever place he'd ventured off to in the night. But you didn't exactly have that time to be waiting around, despite your own fathers late tendencies.

You took a moment to think if you should just leave the plate on the floor, let him pick it up, and try to call a ride. You exhaled quickly, shifting your balance onto your other hip.

Before you even touched the doorknob with a single digit, the music turned down significantly and suddenly the atmosphere was more intense than you'd anticipated.

Which, was the new normal.

But, still.

Things felt off. The pressure in your bones caused your limbs to rise upward, to defend yourself, to at least put yourself in some position that wouldn't leave you open to attack.

For what?

You didn't know.

Because all Billy did was peer up at you from the crack in his door. Nothing significant yet his stare was nothing less than striking. Those blue things could put the oceans to shame, rivaling even the sky in its vivid colors. They were a mirror.

They shifted to the food, briefly. Then immediately returned back to you as the speaker could barely emit its sound.

You watched as the boy straightened, sighed and then opened the door wider, leaving the frame unguarded as he trailed off into his room.

The door held open but his gaze disappeared into the space on his mattress, and the music lowered a touch, no longer loud enough to break the door from its hinges but loud enough that Billy had to raise his voice over it to be properly heard.

You took a cautious step forward after staring at the boys backside, his attire didn't leave much to imagination but his half nude state was the least of your discernment seeing as one, you were fashioned the same way and two, Billy Hargrove was wordlessly inviting you into his room.

You thought maybe this was some kind of trick, a ploy to get you cornered, so your eyes danced over him in brief, consistent glances as you proceeded forward.

He was sitting by his window, a cigarette stuck between his two fingers as he silently stared off into the the darkness the world outside offered.

It was strange. Seemingly off guard as he propped the knee of one leg against the window, giving a free range to his left to lean. Hair swept over the shoulder to show part of his sharp jawline, which dimmed only with each intake of the deadly nicotine.

The room was bland save for a few posters, white walls, brown dresser pressed against a corner and a night stand tucked at the opposite. Clothes were tossed about, either on the floor or hung up half assed on something that you could only guess as a proper hanger.

His nightstand was covered in trash and empty beer cans and you thought of shoving them away before deciding to place the plate on his bed instead.

You spared him a last glance after the action, perplexed by the fact he was just so— quiet. Which, was certainly odd to everyone at least within half a mile from here. Usually the moment you entered his space, his bubble, he erupted like an animal defending its territory.

You decided not to push your luck. Because right now, it felt like the deadly cat across the African plains simply hadn't noticed you. And so your steps were as carefully placed as they had been when you entered. It was almost relaxing despite the looming feeling from the boys demeanor.

Billy felt a wave, a sort of ripple through the air as the presence of another remained in the room. He didn't bother to speak, only raised the unlit cigarette to his lips in a curious manner and took an unsteady puff, letting the wind carry the smoke out the screen. There was a storm, one he had sensed earlier but was hard to make out amongst the many things that had clouded his mind with anger.

Luckily, the only thing he could blame his outburst on earlier this morning was exhaustion, a clear sign of his lack of sleep from the night before which would easily explain his half dead posture and irritability that had pissed off nearly everyone around him.

Another explanation for his hideout in his room but one you couldn't quite understand.

You neared the exit when the floorboards creaked just as they had before and you almost wanted to freeze in your place. Like the cat would come pouncing now, mauling you to death.

"Not gonna make a show of it?" Came Billy's voice, it was low and calm but you caught the slight strain of it. As if he needed a clear of his throat to even be fully heard.

"A show of what?" You cast a glance over your shoulder, brows knit.

The blonde gestured with his lips, the subtle shift in his elbow drawing attention to the stick of tobacco. "I was waiting for some goddamn spectacle, L/N. "

"I don't know what you're talking about, Billy. " You sounded exasperated already and you stepped over a black shirt with a design you couldn't quite decipher from its crumpled up state. You made sure not to add anymore scratches to the ground and turned around, placing your back firmly against the door frame.

Billy's muscles became tense with the new body turned on him and he felt the wave again, the stirring of new energy entering the atmosphere.

But you had simply done so so that your back wasn't uncomfortably to him when you left.

"Whatever. " Was all Billy seemed to say before shutting you out, shoving that fucking piece of shit plate away from him. And in the split second your brain focused on how fast food was supposed to get cooled and not nearly three seconds after swallowing his cancer stick Billy must've caught the attention of the devil himself.

There was no denying the jagged yell, the shuffling in his voice like someone was gripping his head and holding it under water. You jumped away, eyes as wide as saucers as Billy's bedroom door flung open, smacking the adjacent wall with a loud slam that nearly cracked the plaster from the force.

And yet, his voice was a lot less louder than his grand entrance. "Hey, shit face. Why don't you make yourself useful instead of sitting around all day, having our guests, " he gestured to you, "bring you your own fucking food. "

You moved a step back, almost tripping on your own footing from your struggle to balance yourself without the solid sense of feeling. Your eyes darted frantically between the two people within your viewing distance, and you could barely make out Susan a few feet away who had her hand clasped on Max's shoulder.

She was ushering her daughter to their bedroom but Max refused, and the red head stood beside the door with a wary look.

"Get up. And give him a ride home. " Another gesture to you and when you looked towards the entrance of Billy's room again Neil was taking up the entire frame.

"That's really not–" You began but stopped as both of the parents turned to look at you with an appalled look. It was nothing personal but you doubted Billy even knew where you lived and the only time you ever rode with him was pervious to when he'd beat your ass.

"My dad–" You tried again.

"He won't answer the phone, much less pick you up. " Susan jumped in, though the hesitation on her voice made you doubt if that was her plan all along. "Your brother got a ride with the Henderson's. "

"Put on a shirt, stop acting like a balless queer, and go. " Again Neil thrust a drawn out, mocking tone, like his son couldn't comprehend basic sentences and he stepped out of the way to make room for your departure.

Billy's got a storm brewing in his expression and there was one moment where his eyes met yours and you were sure you'd drown in all the hate there was.

You didn't get a chance to argue about the amount of time it would take to get there and about how you would manage on your own. In fact, something in Max's eyes told you it'd be better not to. So you pressed your lips against each other as Billy grabbed his keys and pushed past you.

You watched Billy stalk past everyone, a gruff 'Yes, Sir' leaving his lips that you almost hadn't heard as he passed his father.

You exited the room shortly after, not sparing Susan or Neil a goodbye as you gingerly took your shirt from Max's hands.

She made a comment, something quietly spoken that not even your heightened hearing could make out over Billy's obnoxious slamming of the front door that he knew he would pay for later. You watched the young girl as she returned to her room.

Silence welcomed you when you first stepped into the driveway, stretching across the cement with a sense of uncomfortablity that didn't seem to fade as you entered the car and were met with a chilling quiet.

Billy didnt look at you as his ignition roared to life, nor did he speak to you as he pulled out the drive way. He stared ahead, chin down as he leaned just slightly forward, supporting an arm on the side door, palm rubbing soothing circles into his temple.

He was going 20 above the speed limit. You assumed you two were trying to get as far away from the house as you could. But, the further into the neighborhood you went, the lower the numbers on the radio dropped and the more the car filled with quiet music.

Hargrove was completely out of it, lost in some other space where you weren't welcome. And the car had filled with a tension you doubted he'd meant to cause, but given his current mood, you didn't think he could avoid it either.

Despite this, you chose to press yourself against the door with a turned head, the muscles in your body growing taut with discomfort the more you tried to make it seem as if you weren't even of existence in the passenger seat.

You wanted out of the car.

That much you could draw from your mind when you found that the speedometer was at 55 and increasing.

"Billy. " You tore your gaze from the meter, flickering over the silent boy who was intent on looking only at the road ahead.

No answer. His jaw was tightened and set. There were lines buried in the skin.

"Billy. " Your voice held a certain firmness that he didn't quite like.

Silence still and he tightened his grip on the leather, knuckles turning white. The streetlights were getting ready to cast those obnoxious eyes and like a perfect chain of events the little hairs of a certain song burst from the speakers.

His hand, fast with anger, whipped across the volume dial, ceasing the tune and replacing it with the rumble of the engine.

An inhale, then a single word. "What. "

Somehow you think that's the opposite of an answer. It's barely a question. With the tone of voice he held he shouldn't have phrased it that way because he clearly didn't want to know what you had to say, what you thought.

"Stop the car. I'll walk. " It was simple enough and on any normal occasion Billy might've done just that rather than wasting his gas on you. But tonight was different, and Billy, seemingly fueled by his own agitation, just blew past the stop sign and sent the speed at which the Camaro rolled up with you at dangerous levels.

The car vibrated lightly beneath you, air whistling as you tore through the neighborhood at an alarming rate.

"Oh for fucks sake. " It was a mutter to yourself because you hadn't exactly expected the boy to be cooperative but you didn't think you'd be forced to jump out of a moving car again. Yet, here you were; gripping the handle, poised like a god damn animal, eyeing the road as you built up your goddamned gallantry.

You didn't catch the surprise on Billy's face when he noticed you push the door open against the harsh winds.

Fuck it.

You fell with ease and with a soft oof! your limbs were somehow able to stand the blow rather than becoming mangled chunks of meat against the pavement. You could hear the car skidding to a stop five houses down as you took a moment to roll around in your own pain.

Your shirt had rode up on your torso, back pressed against the heated road as your skin made contact with the tar. You had a few scrapes along your spine, one over the delicate hip bone. And you were pretty sure the road had peeled the skin on your forearm all the way down to the elbow but hey, at least it wasn't your fucking face.

A few drops of blood gathered on a pebble directly to your right. Your nose gave a sharp twinge of pain.

"Dick. " You said that in regards to him, for every aspect of his personality. Because Billy Hargrove was what others considered a giant dick.

If you hadn't suspected it before you were sure when you heard the wheels start to turn again, the shift of a gear springing the Camaro back to life. And then footsteps, louder than the car itself, were slapping against the asphalt.

"Are you out of your fucking mind!?" You raised your head, eyes coming to focus on Billy's very fucking pissed form towering above you. Arms crossed defensively, face twisted with irritation as he glared down at you with something close to— well it looked a lot like anger but Billy only knew one of three emotions and that was definitely not concern.

"Fuck you. " You managed through a puddle of blood in your mouth that you promptly spit out, only having realized it was there the moment it began forming bubbles when you tried to speak.

Billy's voice stuttered in reply. "What the fuck is your problem? Do you want to fucking kill yourself or something?! "

"Better than death by fucking vehicular manslaughter on the account of Billy fucking Hargrove. " You muttered, hands pressing into the road to give you leverage when you attempt to stand up. Your body immediately yells a no to this action and you lay right back down on the road.

"What?" Billy is completely distraught in the sense that his brain has seemed to burst due the sheer incomprability of your actions.

"Oh I don't know, Billy, maybe the next time I feel like killing myself I'll call you and we'll go a hundred miles an hour off the fucking side of a cliff. "

The boys eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stared at you.

"Watch me die like an old school movie where they're surrounded by bubbles and colors and shit. "

You spit the last remnants of blood from your mouth and Hargroves face ran red and blue. "Can you fucking shut the fuck up and get up already before anyone sees you. " He demanded, practically dancing around your form. Arms stretched out with a stance that reminded you very much of a gymnast.

"No. No. I think I'll lay here for a sec. " You roll onto your backside, a groan in your voice, arms folding over your body, posed like a corpse.

Billy stops in his antics and stares at you incredulously. "Are you serious?"

"Very serious, yes. " Your voice almost comes out like a sigh.

Billy reels, and if it wasn't for the fact your eyes were sealed shut now, you'd be able to see the absolute bewilderment of the teen as he stood there in the middle of the empty street. Arms half poised over you but not touching your form. As if he didn't know what do with you.

"...Get up. " He demands, standing straight again, his hands on his waist. This time he's not commanding you in that cold manner. There's a little rise to his voice like he's beginning to lose his patience, his forehead furrowing with anger.

You take another few moments to enjoy the silence. You swear you hear a cicada or something squeak from a window sill nearby and the air felt cooler than it has in weeks. Until it all becomes overbearing and your chest burns from a lack of oxygen. You didn't even realize you were holding your breath.

You open an eye to test the waters.

Billy's scowling now, a hand on his hip and the other resting across his forehead in disbelief. At you or the situation, you weren't entirely sure. Both you imagined. But there was a certain look on his face like he was ready to pull some kind of theatric, a reaction, throw a punch to knock some sense into you but ultimately decided against it.

"Where do you live?" He asked the question in such a manner that you couldn't help but be wary of his intentions.

"...Why?" You asked, the caution obvious in your voice. As he loomed over you like that... it wasn't doing a whole lot of trust building.

You almost hear the growl of frustration from his throat as he began rocking on the balls of his feet, hands swinging like he wasn't able to grab hold of something. "So we can fucking go. Before someone calls the fucking cops. "

You still hesitated.

"Before I fuck you up so hard they'll have to identify you by your fucking sperm. " Okay there were his threats. But they lacked the substance of his normal demeanor. He didn't seem overly angry like he typically did but still, his body gave some kind of look as though he couldn't quite will himself to control the way it trembled with adrenaline.

"Nice one, but you're not my type. " Another bite and a second of Billy looking absolutely befuddled as he tried to keep his voice down. His glare had weakened but only because he was taken off guard, and his cocky expression fell to a tight line.

You watched as he took a moment to look around the empty street. The lights weren't too bright so you couldn't make out that typical, telltale flush of his skin that you've grown accustomed to in his anger.

Your eyes flickered across his face, scanning every inch like a beacon. Curiously, you looked at him the same way he always did. Maybe you'd find some sort of answer hidden somewhere behind his icy blues.

The look on his face was strange. Pensive.

"Get up, Y/N. " An even voice this time. Calming maybe. And to think, all it took was a slightly gay comment in order to simmer the violent bastard.

You half wondered where the fag-bashing erratic moron went. Maybe he'd packed his bags and runaway. You could hope.

You did more than that infact, you put that right there on your bucket list, and with a frown, more for yourself than anything else, you looked away from the boy above you.

"Fine. Alright. " Your movements were stiff with pain as you moved to push yourself up by the palms of your hand, your arms trembling beneath the weight. The skin on your hand and forearm burned with a stinging sensation.

Billy watched at your pathetic attempts, a sneer or two on his face but he didn't seem to offer much help until it'd all get too pathetic and he had to reach out and aid you.

"Idiot. " His lip curled as his palm met yours, his fingers holding onto the back of your hand tight as possible.

You stumbled slightly upon becoming fully upright, teetering against Billy for a moment as you took a minute to regain your ground.

"Yeah, well whose fucking fault is that. " You've developed a lovely habit of hissing through your teeth with an unnecessary amount of spite. You're surprised Billy hasn't knocked you on your ass and left you for dead by now.

He scoffs, trying to put as much distance between the two of you while still having your arm linked through his, helping you along. To the ignorant eye, you suppose this would look platonic enough but anyone that knew the two of you well would certainly think otherwise.

Billy's all rigid limbs and stunted movements. Even when you'd finally started to walk on your own and your grip on his arm began to slack, he held firm with a grip like a vise.

And by the time you're at the passenger's side, he's shoving you into the seat and you nearly knock your head on the top of car.

You didn't bother giving a remark when he practically seethed through his teeth, slamming the door in your face. He strode around the car like a man on a mission.

"If you go more than 5 over the speed limit—" You felt the warning die on your tongue when you saw the look of pure anger etched onto Billy's face.

"You'll jump out. Yeah. " His hand came down on the shifter. "Got it. "

There was a part of your brain that you didn't recognize that was screaming in terror, completely and totally convinced you were going to die tonight at the hands of the ever brooding Billy Hargrove.

But much to your surprise, Billy maintains that 5 mile leway the entire drive home even when there's barely a car in the streets. He hadn't muttered a single word since throwing his angry body in the driver's seat.

Instead, he'd cranked up the music all the way as if it'd some how compensate for the lack of speed and conversation, not that there would be much to say anyway.

You hadn't bothered looking at him. He hadn't bothered looking at you. But somehow, in one way or another, the feeling as if you were watching each other was even more abundant in the silence.

Whatever hostility had remained from Billy's mood in the first half of the night had receded back into his depths for later. Though the occasional frown on his face never quite leaves no matter what, his eyes are softer now.

And by the time he's pulling into the dirt driveway of your home, the soft beams of amber and yellow from the streetlights dimly hitting half his face, there's no sign of anger or any real semblance of emotion. It's oddly quiet, and the only thing to really speak up was the steady rumble of the engine.

"Thanks. " You beckon quickly and with reluctantance as you awkwardly grabbed at the door handle, trying to turn as quickly as you could while still maintaining balance. Anything just to get out of his car and away from the guy.

"Y/N. " He voices and the moment you pull at the handle you come to find it's resistance. A dull tingle shoots up your spine and the hair on the back of your neck raises with tension.

You turn, facing the teen who kept an unconcerned façade. He was a calm still pond with blue eyes flickering like small waves in the face of a strong wind, and although most times they were ice and snow that held such a cold, unforgiving passion of arrogance, there were times they were the ripples of a breeze.

Now was one of those times.

"Don't go around pulling fucking stunts like that. "

That was definitely closer to a warning than anything else that had come from his lips the entirety of the night.

"This is coming from the guy who beat my ass into the concrete two months ago. " And at this point, you were too exhausted to be filled with spite for the boy.

His posture falters and not just figuratively. There's a shift to the way he's sitting but the flicker of his eyes remains. Even with you half turned, his stare remained. In fact, it seems to have gotten all the more intense.

"What's it to you anyway? " The way he tilted his head might have been endearing in another life. Now, it seemed to hold meaning, the way a predator stalks its prey with such observant behavior before sinking its teeth into its jugular.

His gaze on you could have bored into your brain, much like a drill for how quick your defenses seemed to start dissolving.

He'd always looked at you like this. Whether or not you caught his eyes on you was by chance.

In class, in the halls, it was all the same to him. He'd get one look and that was about all it took. He'd stare with the attention like an interrogation, as if trying to decode some secret behind your stature, trying to pick you apart bit by bit with those watchful baby blue's of his. And if there was no easy route to doing that he'd dig his little meat hooks into you until there was.

You were all he'd focus on. Not you in particular. More so the idea of you.

Whatever that meant.

Of course the only instance Billy looked at you without fail, hard looked at you like the blue was about to spill out of his eyes and swallow you up like a tsunami, was when he was a little tipsy or riled up with heat and fury. But like most of Billy's emotions, they were very intense. Too intense for something as simple as just a fucking stare. It almost gave you the illusion of a dangerous threat that made your skin buzz with goosebumps, your nerves rattling in their sockets.

He was doing the same now, except, the only difference was that he wasn't pissed faced or smoldering with alcohol this time. In the confines of his car, beneath the yellow white shine of the nearby street lights, he couldn't tear his gaze away even if you begged.

Billy was the sort of thing to stop you mid thought when you glance and feel your limbs freeze, suddenly petrified with all this uneasiness and sudden confusion as to why there was only one sort of definition to put on why you felt such things whenever his presence was met with a hundred paces of distance.

"I..." He starts but his voice falls flat. Something beyond frustration, something between anger and concern. The sort of look that told you he was working something out in his mind. Or he just couldn't find the proper word choice that didn't end in an f-bomb at the end of his sentence.

He's still staring, his eyes flickering back and forth between yours, like a candle wick in the night. Wavering. Stuttering. Inconsistent uncertainty.

Like he's just asking for guidance to fill his barren vocabulary, the words never existing like an undiscovered civilization in his brain, unable to conjure up the sort of speech that would get him what he wanted.

An abrupt sense of panic washed over you. You inhaled sharply and you didn't let the breath go until your next move was placed in front of you like a chess piece on the board and you couldn't take the time to think out any future moves on your part.

All of your attention was pulled to him, focused entirely. The way he moved, the way he breathed, it left a tingling feeling trailing behind him like some faint breeze of emotion.

Everything stilled, it was him and you. Him. And you.

And he's just looking at you like that. Mouth halfway opened and the noise of shallow heavy breaths were the only sounds falling from his lips while he's looking at you all wide-eyed, like some fresh-faced virgin whose never seen one in person before.

You cursed yourself. Cursed the wind. Cursed the ground. Cursed Billy and his stupid face. And every corner of his stupid car and everything else about him. You can curse the sun but that'd probably be a step too far. Especially the moment you met those watchful pools of sea foam.

Fucking Billy Hargrove and his stupid, fucking car and his even more stupid...

Lips.

Lips and teeth.

Teeth, pale pink lips.

Blue eyes, long lashes.

Stupid fucking curly hair.

The sort of curly where it always managed to get you by the tips, tangling its brambles in your fingers and refusing to let go.

Which is why the second Billy made a small noise– not even really a noise, it's a breath. A single exhale that hits your nose, hits you the way nothing has before, and it causes a wave of heat to wash over you, overtaking your senses.

You grab those curls, your fingers entwine them and his breath is alot heavier, alot hotter as his hands grip tightly onto your shirt, like he's a frightened child.

His lips are wet.

He's messy.

Sloppy.

Like he's never kissed before in his life. Lips that keep moving, and his tongue is too sensitive, too eager.

Every sharp inhale of breath reeks of sweat and chlorine.

There's no time to stop and make sense of the situation.

He's scrambling over the middle console, desperate hands gripping on your collar and in any other scenario, this would've been the step before he plummeted his fist into your face. But there's hardly anything suggesting that. At least not without the time to see the tiny trail of tears lining Billy's eyes, glossing his cheeks.

He tastes as he looks. Like liquid gold with his tongue rubbing against yours in a hot mass of burning motion. And any semblance of a rational train of thought was chucked out the window.

There was enough room in the front seat for a teenage boy and then some. Billy Hargrove was not such a teenage boy. There was barely enough room to shift and breathe and wriggle around in this half straddle.

You can faintly hear a heavy car pass over a mound in the road, an off balance tire or perhaps someone forgot to inflate it and the uneven troll on the road, not entirely deafening, but it's there. And Billy hears it and he jumps from you, leg grazing the shifter, head knocking into the top of the roof.

His ears are steaming red as he all but falls into the driver's seat, face flustered and hair slightly disheveled.

He's looking around like a wild animal caught in a trap and he can't escape, eyes flickering back and forth; from the gearshift all the way to the rear view mirror and then to your face.

Pupils shot open, dark and wide, and a hand coming up to press on his forehead, eyes squinting.

"Billy‐ " It's a start, but it doesn't stay long enough to be deemed a full sentence, not with his name lingering on your lips while you try to swallow down the heat in the pit of your stomach. Billy's looking at you, breathing heavy.

"Get out. " He mutters forcefully, the lock clicks open and when his hand comes up to rub across his face, it's shaking.

"Billy. " More insistent this time.

He looks a few shades redder than when he was before, his head snaps back to meet your stare, hair curling beneath his ears in a gentle mess, curls threatening to fall into his face.

"Get out!" His voice pitches, breaks into something close to a sob and Billy swings his arm wildly, fist connecting with the steering wheel and there's a loud honk as a warning before he shouts again. "Get the fuck out, you fucking faggot!" His voice reverberates across the entire neighborhood, shattering your ear drums in the process.

There's dogs barking from far away, probably due to the horn.

You hesitated but only for a moment before swinging the door open, just barely missing the opportunity to knock the shit out of your leg by the time Billy decided to slam down his foot on the pedal. The door shuts fast. The car speeds off before it has the chance.

You watched him drive away, with just as much intensity as the boy inside the car watched you in the rearview.

As your house began to shrink away into the distance, and the glare of the car grew smaller and smaller. You could hardly see those searing blue eyes the way you did in class. Though this time, instead of a look of hatred or scorn, it was one of fear and dread.

And maybe, just maybe, if there were more light shining on his face, it would reflect a thousand scenarios playing on his cheeks. Not that you would've been able to tell from all the way out here.

"Fuck. "

[n3on-graveston3s-calling]

Rating: E Characters: Portgas D. Ace, Fushichou Marco, Izou, Thatch, Reader Warnings: Temperature Play, BDSM undertones, Wax Play Series: Kanon's Kinktober '24 Do not interact with this post if you are under the age of 18; the following material is intended for mature audiences only.

Summary:

“You’re killin’ me,” Ace murmured, reaching out to smooth his fingers down your spine. You gasped at the trail of heat they left in their wake, your movements stilling. “Eh? Você gostou disso?” He questioned, his head tilting, watching as you quickly struggled to tug your pants off the rest of the way. Bingo. “I don’t know why you decided to do this new fancy trick with your hands-” “It’s not just my hands.”

Notes:

HAPPY FIRST WEEK OF KINKTOBER. Some fun notes: -I'll be posting one fic for the next 4 weeks for Kinktober; my work schedule doesn't give me the free time to do a fic for every single day, so I decided one a week, posted on every Wednesday, with a bonus one on Halloween itself. -Each fic will be tagged appropriately, I'll even include a rundown of what to expect here in the notes. -First up is Ace, with Temperature Play ( Devil Fruits Are Fun! ) + Wax Play, with a fem!Reader. There isn't anything too crazy in here, just Ace being a little possessive and absolutely drunk on the reader. Also, Ace does use Brazilian Portuguese in this fic. c: As always: PLEASE PRACTICE SAFE, SANE, CONSENSUAL SEX. THIS IS LOWKEY BDSM MATERIAL. You should always have a system in place to check in with your partner when partaking in more intense scenes, and multiple ways to communicate if you can't speak for some reason- as well as a hard stop Safe word. Neither are used in this fic, but it is discussed in the fic, just in case. PLEASE use candles that are created specifically for wax play ( low burning candles ) if you want to safely try out wax play. Also, always be careful when using fire to not burn yourself, your hair, or anything around you. There are candles you can buy for this. The wax doesn’t heat up to such a high degree. Also, don't be silly, wrap your willy. <3

It was a rare treat to find the Moby Dick and fleet docking at an island for longer than a few hours for a restock run. The latest storm that was churning up the oceans in their pathway had made it too dangerous to even consider taking the whole fleet through. Ace didn’t mind, really; it meant more time to spend with the holder of his attention, the object of his affection. His gaze followed you across the tavern as you laughed with Thatch and Izou. His jaw worked slowly as Izou reached over, tucking a strand of her hair back from your face. Izou wasn’t interested in you, he knew that; Izou had his eyes on someone across the ocean from them.

Still, some part of him- some deeper part that he almost loathed- burned with the urge to make it clear to everyone just who you belonged to.

You was his, and his alone.

“You look ready to burn a hole through the wall,” Marco chimed in as he plopped down beside Ace, his gaze tracking Ace’s own. Ah, the little deckhand. “Got rooms for everyone, yoi. Go.” He waved a hand, and that was all Ace needed to hear as he rose from his seat, leaving a few berry behind for the flagon of ale that he hadn’t even touched- which Marco was greedily reaching for, his own gaze shifting to follow a pair of long legs.

“Ah, speak of the devil!” Izou greeted Ace as he approached, a brow raising as he took in the expression on his face. “I think your free time is over, dear.” He hummed, looking over to Thatch, who snickered into his ale.

You sighed as she leaned back in her chair, gaze flickering up to meet Ace’s in faux innocence. You knew just what had gotten him so worked up- you. Your antics from that morning, getting him all riled up before leaving to go attend to your duties, leaving him high and dry. A shame, really; it had left you aching for more, with this odd sort of anticipation that lingered beneath your skin. “Marco got us all rooms.” You informed Ace, watching as his gaze narrowed slightly. He hadn’t even spoken, yet. Oh, you were in for it.

“Have you eaten?” He asked finally, his hand smoothing over the back of your neck. The touch sent shivers down your spine despite how warm his palm was.

“Mhm,” you answered, bobbing your head. “Guess it is getting late, huh?”

“Don’t break her too hard, Pops wants us out by daybreak.” Izou warned, watching as Ace’s eyes widened, as his cheeks colored. Ah, that cool facade broke far too easily.

“I-I’m not- shut up!” He hissed, ducking his head as his hand dropped from your neck, only to be grabbed by your own hand, fingers lacing as you rose from your seat.

You reached over, stealing one more roll before winking at Izou and Thatch. “See you two in the morning.” Ace sighed with silent relief behind you as you led the way out of the tavern and down the hall. You glanced down at the key Ace was carrying, catching sight of the ruby numbers: 13. The last room in the hall, how nice.

He reached past you, sliding the key into the latch, unlocking the door with a soft ‘click’. You pushed the door open, eager to both be alone with Ace, and to have an actual bed rather than a hammock. As soon as the door closed, his hands were gripping your hips, pulling you back against him. “I’ve wanted you literally all day,” he murmured, lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Do you know how hard I’ve been?”

“If an erection lasts longer than four hours-”

“I’ll bite you.”

“Do it. I’ll like it.” The teasing was normal, easing both of you into more of a relaxed state as you turned in his grasp. Your arms reached up, winding around his shoulders as you bumped your nose against his own. “You showered,” you whispered, fingers toying with the soft curls at the base of his skull.

“‘S nice to be clean,” his hands squeezed your hips gently, thumbs sliding beneath the hem of your shirt. “I got a question for you, baby.”

His hands were still warm. Oddly so; it wasn’t abnormal for Ace to get heated- literally- when you two were together. But something felt different here. It made your heart begin to slowly speed up behind your ribcage, had you pulling your head back to meet those gorgeous brown eyes of his. “Talk to me, love.”

His cheeks were rosy, his gaze unable to meet your own as he looked to the side. Despite the bravado, he would get shy with you. You were his weakness. “You mentioned an idea the other night that’s been on my mind.”

Your brows furrowed. What had you… Oh! “The candles?” You asked, reaching up to carefully pluck his hat from his head. Your fingers returned to his hair, slowly working through the slightly damp tresses. “Did you wanna try it on me, Ace?” You asked, voice soft- low. Your nails gently brushed against his scalp, watching as his eyes fell shut, as a shudder worked its way through him. “I wouldn’t mind it. I think it could even be pleasurable.”

He groaned softly, his head dropping, chin resting on your shoulder as he simply held you close for a moment. “You’re gonna torment me, huh?” He mused with a soft chuckle, turning his head to press a kiss to your throat. His eyes were heavy; he was tired, but not from exhaustion. The damned narcolepsy… “Strip.” Ace whispered, his lips trailing up towards your jawline. “All the way down,” a kiss to the corner of your lips, “like a good girl.” He finished with a proper kiss to your lips, one of his hands raising to cup your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss.

You were weak for him, and Gods, he knew it.

You didn’t whine, didn’t pout as he pulled back, a cocky grin pulling at his lips as he sat down on the edge of the bed, eager to watch you disrobe. Cheekily, you turned away from him, your fingers grasping the hem of your shirt, slowly lifting it to reveal your back. Shirt tossed aside, you leaned down, unlacing your shoes slowly while Ace admired the view of your rear. Boots unlaced, you toed one off, then the other, followed by your socks. Slowly straightening back up, your arms raised high above your head, stretching. The movement allowed Ace the grace of seeing the subtle swell of your breasts- and the hint alone got a soft groan from him. “Merda,” he sighed, shaking his head. Your hands smoothed over your sides as you continued your little show, fingers hooking in the waistband of your pants. Slowly- as slowly as you could manage, you lowered your pants down your thighs, over your knees, down to your calves before bending over-

“You’re killin’ me,” Ace murmured, reaching out to smooth his fingers down your spine. You gasped at the trail of heat they left in their wake, your movements stilling. “Eh? Você gostou disso?” He questioned, his head tilting, watching as you quickly struggled to tug your pants off the rest of the way. Bingo.

“I don’t know why you decided to do this new fancy trick with your hands-”

“It’s not just my hands.”

Your eyes widened as you turned around, facing him with blown pupils. “... Fuck.” You whispered, taking in the gorgeous sight in front of you- much the way he was also admiring the view of your nearly nude form. While you’d been giving him a show, he’d stripped down completely. The tan line from his shorts was always comical, but you weren’t focused on that. No- sweet Poseidon, he was already half hard.

“Trying to,” he reached over, hooking his fingers under the side of your panties, tugging you closer by it. “Gotta enjoy this meal in front of me first before I do anything else, though.”

“Ace-” You gasped, cheeks flushing at his eagerness, a hand raising to cover your mouth as his lips pressed against the sensitive skin beneath your naval.

His lips worked down, teeth scraping against the sensitive, soft skin before hooking in the hem of your panties. Wordlessly, he sank to his knees, tugging the fabric down with him. You knew the rules, now- hold on, and don’t let go until he was done with drinking his fill. Your panties fell around your ankles, and he did help you step out of them- just so that he could have you raise one leg up, settling it over his shoulder. You had nothing to brace against except for Ace, but he liked it that way.

The first press of his lips against your folds was gentle, an almost loving kiss pressed to such an intimate, sensitive space. Your fingers wove through his hair with one hand, the other reaching down to grasp his shoulder as his tongue smoothed through your folds, parting them for the near burning touch of tongue to sensitive clit. “Ace!” You gasped in surprise, nearly jumping back before his arm looped around your other leg, holding you in place.

And here you were, thinking that the ice you’d used a few weeks back had been a shock to the system. Nothing could have prepared you for the feeling of his abnormally warmed tongue lapping at your pussy like a man starved. He moaned against you at your taste, fingers squeezing the back of your thigh in appreciation. His nose brushed against your clit from this angle, each movement of his head giving you sparks of pleasure. His tongue lapped at your weeping center, drinking what you offered him. Your head tilted back, hips slowly grinding against his tongue, his nose, his lips, taking the pleasure he was greedily offering you.

You could stay like this for hours, with his head between your thighs, desperately licking at your core, at your swollen clit, gasping and moaning his name- and you had, multiple times. But something told you Ace had other ideas- and you weren’t ready to cum, not yet. Not that your legs would hold you up if you did, anyway. “Ace,” you panted, jolting with each hot swipe of his tongue across your clit. You glanced down- and good Gods above and below, that was a mistake. His hair was a wavy mess from your fingers running through it, tangling it. He was looking up at you, gaze lidded and afire, his cheeks rosy and as he pulled back for a moment, his chin and mouth glistened. “Holy shit.” you couldn’t help but whisper as he grinned, pupils blown so wide, they swallowed the chocolate of his gaze. “Baby- not yet, please.”

It almost pained him to pull back- but he did, only after placing a teasing kiss to your clit. “Lay down on your back.” He murmured, gently lowering your leg from his shoulder. He watched you stumble, reached out to grab you around the waist and tug you closer. “Careful, meu bebê.” He chuckled, grinning as you regained your balance. “Can’t have you falling. Unless it’s in love-”

“Your dick is within squeezing distance, Portgas.”

“Point taken.” Still grinning that mischievous grin, he released you, watching as you fell onto the bed. His gaze raked across your form, drinking down his fill. Shaking his head with a soft whistle he turned to the room. “Let’s see if I can do this.”

“Do what?” You asked, watching him curiously as he wiggled his fingers. The fire is him, and he is the fire- that’s what he had told you when you first started getting to know one another. You knew a fair amount about Devil Fruits, the different variations between nature based ones, animal based ones, and the weird ones that don’t fall into either category. Ace had insane control over his, could create a wildfire with a flick of the wrist. And now- now, with a wave of his hands, the candles throughout the bedroom flickered to life, their wicks catching flame with such ease. You gasped in awe as the golden glow of the candles bathed the room, as Ace looked at you over his shoulder with that damned smug smirk.

“That.” He answered, settling down onto the bed beside you. “Now- let’s lay out a few ground rules, yeah?” He reached over, brushing his knuckles against the apple of your cheek. “What’s the safe word?”

You thought for a moment. Something easy to remember, but not something you would just casually bring up in conversation. “Peppermint.” You decided, nodding. “And the basic color system. Green for keep going, yellow for a break, red to stop.”

“And if you can’t talk for some reason?” Fingers warmed by unseen flames traced your collar bones, dipped down to brush over the swell of your breast.

A shaky breath drawn in, you answered, “One tap for okay, two taps for slow down, three to stop.”

“Good girl.” He leaned over, capturing your lips in an eager, heated kiss. His tongue ghosted against your bottom lip before he pulled away, teasing. “You ready?”

You were nearly shaking with excitement as you nodded. He leaned over, grabbing one of the pillar candles from the side table. Easing back up onto his knees, you are gifted with a near godly sight. Ace, kneeling above you, his cock hard and the tip weeping- but even further up, the way the light from the candle bathed him in gold. He looked like a God.

Sometimes, you wondered if he was a God in mortal skin.

You watched as the flame flickered, the candle tilting slowly over before wax dribbled out- and onto the skin of your hand. “Too hot?” He asked; a test, you realized. Smart. You shook your head ‘no’, and he hummed. “Good.” The next drops landed on the tops of your breasts, making you gasp loudly in surprise. The sensation was sharp, the feeling almost painful at first before the wax began to cool on your skin. You drew in a deep breath, nodding.

And so, the game began.

Slowly, Ace dribbled wax across both of your breasts, until you were a squirming, whining mess. “I bet you’re even wetter now, huh?” He mused, head tilting slightly as he let wax build up one more in the candle’s hollowed out center. A part of him considered helping speed the process along- but that could make the wax too hot, and he’d like to avoid causing you actual harm. The candle tilted, and he watched the wax dribble down the center of your sternum, down over your tummy. You hissed as it got close to your naval, but he skipped down- and for a brief moment, you both wondered what would happen if it dripped further south.

He very carefully did not spill any, there.

No, instead, he moved it to your thighs, letting the wax spill over and drip down the insides of your thighs as you hissed and squirmed, moaning with the sharp form of pleasure the wax was offering you. “Ace,” you whined, legs spreading wider as he painted your sensitive inner thighs with wax. “Ace, please.”

“Please, what?” He asked, reaching down to cup your core, his palm heated up, mimicking the warmth that the wax offered. You shuddered at the feeling; your words failing you as his fingers parted you, brushing against your nub in slow, deliberate circles. “Words, Amoreco.” A soft tap- it couldn’t even be considered a slap, not with how gentle it was- was delivered to your core, making you jolt from the feeling.

You met his gaze, your own hazy. “Fuck me,” you whispered- and that was all it took for Portgas D. Ace to break. He leaned over, setting the candle on the floor away from the bed before sitting back up. You hummed, arms open as he slid into your embrace, his fingers seeking out the foil packet he’d placed on the bedside table preemptively. Just in case.

You never know.

A hiss escaped him as you rolled the condom onto his weeping cock, your touch like heaven for him in that moment. “Lube?” He whispered against the column of your throat. You huffed, reaching over for the small bottle as his fingers toyed with your entrance, teasingly dipping in before pulling out, feeling how wet you had become due to the toying. “Fuck, you’re dripping,” his words held no small amount of awe as you reached between the two of you, dribbling the lube onto his cock. He let out a noise not quite a hiss, not quite a yelp at the temperature difference that sent you into a giggle fit.

“Oops,” you snickered, feeling him pout against your throat. Your amusement was short lived as Ace lined himself up, the fat head of his cock slowly pushing in. The stretch was something you never got used to, your breath escaping with a soft, “Oh, yes,” as he sank in inch by glorious inch. Once he’d bottomed out, you both lay there for a moment, enjoying the feeling of being filled and filling you.

Until you could feel Ace physically growing warmer- all over. He grinned in a rather feral way against your throat as his hips pulled back, only to slowly roll back into you, making you feel every inch that sank in. A wordless moan pulled free from your lips as he kept the torturously slow pace, his heat sinking into your skin- inside and out. “You feel so good,” he whispered, biting down on your shoulder gently. He was holding back.

Well, that wouldn’t do.

Your hands shifted from their position at his shoulders to smooth down his back- before you adjusted your hold, your nails raking down his back, leaving red lines in their wake. “Ace,” you purred, rolling your hips to meet his stuttering ones, “Puedes follarme mejor que eso.” The resulting groan and shudder was your answer. Ace liked being close when you two were together, but this required him pushing up, sitting up on his knees to gaze down at you. You moaned at the subtle change within, the head rubbing against that one damned spot that promised to make you see stars.

“Brat,” he muttered, his hands settling on your hips- holding you down as he pulled out. The next thrust in felt like a punch, your breath leaving you in a half-yell as he set a punishing pace. His hands felt like brands on your hips, and you almost hoped that they would leave a mark in his wake. You couldn’t speak, not with how he was moving, your mind stalling. “Takin’ me so fuckin’ well, look at that.” He groaned, reaching between the two of you to press his fingers against your clit, rubbing it in time with his thrusts. “Who’s this pussy belong to?”

“You!”

“Say it again, couldn’t hear you.” He leaned down, tongue laving over one of your nipples, leaving an almost burning trail in it’s wake. “Who’s fuckin’ pussy is this?”

“Ace!” You sobbed, feeling your impending orgasm rapidly build- faster than you’d ever experienced. “My pussy is yours!”

Ace groaned, his lips circling a nipple as you wailed, the waves of your orgasm crashing over you. He grinned around your nipple as you shook, your walls clenching around him rhythmically. He didn’t slow his pace, groaning against your bust as he began to chase his own release. “Baby-” he moaned, brows pitching as he felt his balls drawing up, as that thread threatened to snap. Your hands grasped his face, tugged him up to capture him in a kiss- and oh, how he snapped. His hips stilled, buried to the hilt within you, as he moaned into the kiss.

Music to your ears.

His forehead pressed to your as you both panted, catching your breath. “That… Was amazing,” he laughed breathlessly, pecking your lips, the tip of your nose, your cheeks. You hummed in agreement, bone weary after everything. Ace slowly- carefully- pulled out of you, quickly discarding the used condom to the trash. He was tired, too- but before he could sleep, he needed to tend to you. He stepped into the bathroom for a moment, wetting down a wash rag with warmed water. He kept the rag warm in his hands as he returned, settling down beside you. “How are you feeling?” He asked softly, reaching over to cup your cheek, directing your gaze to meet his.

“Good,” you replied softly, blinking lazily. “Tired.”

He nodded in agreement, chuckling. Slowly, he cleaned off the wax bits from you, using his palms to heat them up to clean them off easier rather than simply peeling them off bit by bit. Red whelps lay in their wake, each one soothed by the gentle caress of the rag. By the end of it, you were clean and warm and freckled with the evidence of your coupling.

You brushed your fingers over one of the groups of whelps on your stomach as Ace joined you back in bed, curling against your side. “I like it,” you murmured as his head tucked into the crook of your neck, his arms winding around your middle. “The cleanup is more tedious than ice is, but I like it.” Turning your head, you pressed a kiss to his forehead. He was already half asleep, legs tangling with your legs.

“‘M glad,” Ace mumbled, his breathing beginning to deepen. It was a miracle he hadn’t fallen asleep before now. You smiled, enjoying the warmth he offered you as sleep took him away. Love wasn’t something either of you mentioned; the topic was a difficult one for him to speak about. But it showed in other ways- like him taking the time to clean you up meticulously, how he wrapped himself around you when he slept. How his fingers still sought out one of your hands, even when holding you now. No, love wasn’t something you said out loud-

But with Ace, actions would always speak louder than words.

[whorediaries-09]

don't be afraid of me;

another year, another october. that means it's time to host kinkotober for my lovelies.

the diner

i know we're meant to be

last year i couldn't publish fics on all the days because i got lazy. even though publishing fics everyday wasn't the initial choice, i think i skipped out a bit too much, so that's why i'm publishing this post early to collect requests. i don't really like to do these events without discussing with my lovelies, so that's another factor as to why i'm posting this early!

but please do keep in mind that i'll upload fics when it's comfortable for me incase i get overwhelmed.

you can request through the list of kinks, au's, and prompts listed down below. you can also request a kink not listed down below if you want to read a fic with that kink.

please keep in mind i will not write your request if it crosses my boundaries. while sending in requests, please be kind and respectful. this is a safe space for me and the people who read and interact with my content.

bet i could change your life

kinks i will write for:

Sizeplay

Dacryphilia

Over-stimulation

Edging

Breeding

Degradation

Praise

Knife Play

Choking

Temperature play

Collars

Orgasm control

Toys (please be specific)

Mirror Sex

Blindfolds

Begging

Roleplay

Shower-sex

Manhandling

Biting

Nicknames

Threesomes

Hair pulling

Oral

Lingerie

Angry sex

CNC

Phone sex

Squirting

Body worshipping

you could be my wife

dialogues and prompts:

'you can't expect me to do all the work. i want to see what that pretty mouth of yours can do.'

'be good and i'll let you cum'

'we're going to fuck right here? what if someone sees us?'

'do whatever you want to me. i'm yours to use.'

'your body was made for me.'

'you keep your hands where they are. or do i need to to tie them up?'

'let me cum in you. please, let me fuck my babies into you.'

'i'm sorry what was that? i can't hear you over all the noises your pretty mouth is making.'

'begging is a good look for you.'

'so good for me. look at the mess you've made.'

'do what you want. but you better make it good otherwise i'll kill you.'

'use your words.'

'tell me what you want.'

'you take me so well.'

'spread your legs wider.'

'say my name.'

'i love it when you act all controlling like that knowing damn well I can leave you shaking under me.'

'close your eyes.'

'you're not playing fair.'

'tighter.'

'make me yours.'

'swallow. all of it.'

'don't hold it.'

'wrap your legs around my waist.'

'you're so fucking hot.'

'that noise....keep making it.'

'mark me. mark me so everyone knows who I belong to.'

'you want gentle? wrong fucking address'

'have a little trust in yourself. i know you can take it.'

'we both know how much you're going to enjoy this.'

'i'm waiting for your permission to let me have your way with you.'

'you came so hard, i barely even touched you.'

'look at me. i want you to watch you come on my fingers/cock.'

'what if i just continued to rile you up?'

'you want me quiet? well, make me.'

was easy getting over and I landed on my feet

these are just ideas, so if you want to request something not here, please feel free to xoxo.

please refer to the pinned post to refer to the characters i won't write for!

-steph 🍂

[simplydnp]

whenever i watch phil’s daring advice videos i realize he is really against overtly jealous boyfriends, do you think dan is better with jealousy these past few years? do you think he used to be bad with it?

dan has, in the past, referred to himself as jealous. in my opinion, he's also very bad at hiding it.

i'd have to go back to specific segments, but the advice phil generally gives is more about excessive/controlling jealousy. the type where red flags are popping up continually. for the people receiving advice, it might just be a conversation they have to have, or they might have to call it.

i think it's up to dnp with how they deal with it. clearly, it isn't the same as situations presented by viewers, otherwise his advice would be different. i think there's a few points of interest around this all.

if we're looking back to the beginning: dan is 18. he's young, his brain isn't fully developed, he had a difficult childhood. stability is not something he knew. so to meet phil, with all his awkward emo rizz and close relationship with his family--it's natural to want to hold onto it. i can completely understand any jealousy from that point in time, because it comes from fear. it's rooted in insecurity and instability. all he wants is this one thing, why does everyone else have to want it too? but he knows exactly why people want phil--it's why he does! he does seem aware of it, as the quote i mentioned earlier does come from the early years. but it doesn't mean he could stop it from coming out. and i don't really think he wanted to, at that point. (this did change)

there's a secondary participant in this though too. someone who saw all his flaws and loved him anyway, loved him despite them, and loved him because of them. if there's one thing you know about phil lester, it's that he loves dan. and has for a very, very long time. from what we've seen, in the early days, phil liked a jealous dan. there clearly wasn't a discussion about stopping it. it's nice to be wanted. to be seen. instead of just tolerated by your peers. one of the things he'd do would be invite dan in when he felt jealous, or when he could feel jealous later. dan should be a youtuber too. then they can do this together. and it's not to say any or all of their career decisions were based on jealousy. but i do think it played a role. because they know each other too well to simply ignore it. (but i also think it'd unconscious for phil, sometimes).

but as the years go, they had to 'clean up' their image for radio. they put themselves into boxes and those boxes weren't supposed to have jealousy in them because it's too real. but of course it came anyway. and phil is not as innocent in this as you may think.

the second thing you know about phil lester is that he loves to rile dan up. he loves when dan gets snarky and wordy and dramatic. he loves the outbursts and the swearing and the enthusiasm in it all. he loves that dan feels things and acts on them. so he... pokes the bear sometimes. cause it's fun.

in the next years, there was both more and less jealously. less because of their Straight branding, and therefore pushing anything like that down. more because of 'phil trash #1' becoming part of their brand. and it's never really gone away--cause it's true. dan could suddenly be jealous or fond on main again and it could be played off. so it happened more. but also, they were successful now. secure, in so many ways.

if you see jealousy now it's very evident that dan's trying to hide it. it's just as bad as it used to be, if not worse. cause he's allowed to be jealous now, and is out of practice of hiding it. and i honestly don't think they care that much anymore. he fights it back cause he doesn't want to say it at times, but it's different now. and phil can still tell anyway, cause he loves pushing dan's buttons.

in terms of phil giving advice, i'd say it's more about finding someone who is compatible with you, and loves you for you: the things you do, the words you say, the person you are. dan and phil live in an existence of constantly affirming each other, and they probably don't think about it since it comes so naturally to them. they are on the same page. there's trust and love there. phil knows why dan gets jealous. but he isn't going anywhere. and he knows dan knows that too. so it's kind of fun to play into it all.

[tc-doherty]

Hey! In your practical writing tips - post you said novels require lots of telling. I've noticed this too when I read, amazing books that tell a lot vs. showing but all advice gears to show and that's what I've been learning to do. Since I can't find anyone that teaches when to tell vs. show and how much tell vs. show is right and why telling is good etc. I was wondering if you could elaborate on this? Why some books that tell a lot are very engaging and others can't keep my attention? I'm so interested to see your thoughts! Thank you.

Like I said in that post, teaching people how to write isn't really my jam so this is less a teaching guide and more just my assorted thoughts on the subject based on my own opinions and the habits that I follow.

I guess what it boils down to is this. You can't really say that either showing or telling is more important in a novel, but the things that you show are perhaps more relevant.

For example, if you describe the morning routine of your character in great detail every single morning, readers are going to get bored. The story will grind to a halt. Yes you're showing us that, which most people would say is a good thing based on "show don't tell", but the information isn't relevant. If you're setting up a fantasy or sci-fi story it might be relevant once or even twice to show us how things work, but not every single time.

Similarly, if your character gets news telling them that someone they love has perished, you don't want to simply say that it made them sad. You want to show us their reaction. What do they do? What do they say? What physical sensations do they have? Are they lightheaded, do they feel out of breath, does their throat hurt because they're trying not to cry? That information is all relevant to the character, the scene, and the reader. If you simply say they're sad, then your story feels too shallow.

Many people might consider dialogue a kind of telling, but really it's both. What the characters say, how they say it, and also what they don't say can show us a lot about who they are as a person, which is relevant information to the audience even if they're simply explaining something that would be considered exposition. But what do your characters actually need to say or hear? And what can you relay to us through something happening in the background, for instance?

And what about the genre? I like to write road trip novels, which means I spend a lot of time showing the minutiae of the journey. That's relevant because the story is the journey that's being taken. But sometimes your characters just have to get from one place to another, and you don't need to get bogged down in it. You can just say that they took a bus or boat or horse or whatever.

Balancing it in any given story is the writing equivalent of "this meeting could have been email". What do you actually have to get together in a conference room to discuss (show the readers in detail) versus what can be summarized in a few sentences in an email? What will make you bored out of your mind if you see too much of it, versus what will leave you lost and confused without it?

And of course just because something is telling or summarized doesn't mean that the way that you write isn't important! Your writing should still be engaging even when you're telling. Pay attention to the words you use, the rhythm of your sentences, the variety of sentence lengths, things like that. If something is pleasant to read it will keep the reader's attention on the page. If the sentence rhythms or lengths are too similar, it becomes "monotone" and causes people's attention to wander.

Something I pay special attention to is that - unless the narrator is subjective or unreliable - I don't tell something about characters in the narration which is shown to be false. Nothing gets me riled up like supposedly objective narration which tells me a character is like so and I should feel like this about them, but then their dialogue and actions reveal that to be patently false and I feel some other way. Of course that is something that relies on the narrator being objective and having access to more information than we do. If it's a POV character who might just be unobservant, overly arrogant, biased, or kinda stupid, that's fine

When it comes to showing versus telling in regards to the background/description...well. I struggle a lot with description because I have almost complete aphantasia and can't visualize things easily. So I cheat! Anything that I describe in detail is something that my POV character is actually paying attention to. The level of detail varies from book to book based on what kind of person has the POV and what sorts of things they notice. And again, that's relevant to the audience because it's information which is relevant to the character. This is also really great way to start building up to any kind of romantic interest, because people do tend to pay a lot more attention to people they're interested in!

I feel like this has gotten really long, so if there's anything that you would like me to elaborate on more or I wasn't clear about, feel free to send another ask! I won't say I'm objectively right (usually lol) but I'm always happy to talk shop.

Hopefully some of it can be helpful to you or at least give you some things to start thinking about. And of course, it's always a good way to start by studying books that you read and seeing what you like and what you don't like and how it's been handled in both.

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

Thoughts and feelings about Izzy in s2ep4 and what it means to me as a fellow disabled person:

Yeah, so, that episode, huh?

You know, I already knew going into this new season that Izzy's storyline is going to hit me hard regardless of the exact little plot points it might have, but it's only now, several hours after I've watched eps 4&5 that I'm really starting to digest what his story means to me in it's current shape. This is... a bit long. I also mention a character from a different show - Isaac from Sex Education.

Izzy has always been a bit of a dick, right? That's the reason a lot of people hated him in the first season.

Well, now he is a bit of a dick and disabled. And let me tell you how fucking ecstatic I am about that.

You see, looking for disabled characters in media I consume has rarely been gratifying - if they are there at all, which already is rare, they have very little to do, and if they're even semi-important, they're almost always the epitomes of goodness. Nice, understanding, quiet, patient.

Barely there.

The first time I truly felt something change in this area was with the appearance of Isaac in Netflix's Sex Education. He's sarcastic, funny, talented, honest and mean.

The fandom of that show hated Isaac, let me tell you.

It was mostly because he took direct action to separate the main ship of the show that had many people obsessed. As you'd expect. People's ableism immediately jumped out. As you'd expect.

Because how dare he have his own motivations and wants, and to do what he thinks is right?

Barely there.

And now we have Izzy. Izzy, who also did what he thought was right, which in s1 of the show was trying to separate Ed and Stede. He wasn't trying to make himself too likeable at any point (well. when the crew almost mutinied on him in s1 he did do a last ditch effort but. you remember how well that went).

My point is that now we have someone who isn't particularly nice, and now he's dealing with a sudden loss of ability in his body, which is going to make him even worse. He's angry! Of course he is! He's hobbling around with half a leg gone, humiliated, exhausted, barely recovered from impromptu amputation, no anesthesia. And a suicide attempt! He's angry at himself, his body, at Ed, at Stede, at God if he still believes in one, and who knows who else.

He isn't suddenly going to become nicer to people just because. He doesn't need to be humbled.

(a little sidenote: I do not accept the reasoning that Izzy somehow deserved to lose his leg, that "oh what did he expect riling up Ed when he was heartbroken?" etc. He wasn't expecting to get shot in the fucking leg. Nobody fucking deserves that, and if you think that Ed shooting him in the leg and Izzy subsequently having to have it amputated was an "appropriate punishment" for "what he's done", you're just cruel and wrong. Now scram.)

But that's the point. Disabled people deserve help regardless of whether or not we are nice.

Thankfully (not from Izzy's point of view - his pride was definitely bruised in that moment) the crew saw him struggle, and acted in kind. Because Izzy is their dick. And now - also their unicorn.

And it means so much to me that we get the representation of disabled people who thrash around and rattle the bars of their societal cages, furious at the world that isn't welcoming to us, and receive love and care and an invitation to a loving community regardless.

We shouldn't have to be here just when ableds are ready to give. We aren't meek vessels for your good will. Izzy is such a painfully realistic (as far as the universe of the show permits, given it's unavoidable goofiness) portrayal of the anger of someone who's lost some of their body's past ability, and how one might deal with it.

And I really wanted to say something about that, because I'm afraid it might get lost in the discussion about the more popular and more easily digestible aspects of the show.

[sweaterkittensahoy]

this is soooooo insanely self indulgent but for fic prompts could u write something where bucky is so attracted to buck’s brain to the point where it’s literally a turn on but buck is used to people not caring (his shitty parents) so he doesn’t really get it

The biggest trick any unit has to learn is what to do with downtime. There's things to do in Boise, but it's important to not just let the boys loose every day and night they aren't training.

Lectures are semi-popular. Buck offers up a few on science. High-school level stuff explaining physics and chemistry. Things a lot of the boys already know a little about and want to know more.

Bucky slips into the back of the room for one of them, standing against the wall because there's no free space to sit. It makes him smile. Buck's whole face lights up when he figures out a good topic for a lecture, and Bucky's glad to see how many seem to like them.

Buck steps up to the lectern and grins at the boys. "Who wants to figure out the best order to lose all four engines and survive?" he asks.

"Can we figure it out the other way, too?" Hambone asks, which makes everyone laugh, even Buck.

"Sure," he says. "But I'll let anyone who doesn't want that knowledge cut out before we talk about it."

Bucky chuckles as Buck turns towards the chalkboard and someone sends a paper airplane through the air, hitting Buck in the back.

"Douglass, that's five demerits," Buck says.

There's a few moments of tussling around Douglass as his friends give him grief, but they all go quiet when Buck turns to face the room again and says, "Okay, let's talk gravity."

Bucky follows the lecture easily. He and Buck have had these conversations before, Buck breaking down the science when Bucky can't follow, making sure he can explain it back to him before he picks up again. It means he can relax and simply watch Buck.

Buck's got the room's attention, his deep voice carrying easily, and the loose-limbed way he moves keeping everyone's attention. He walks the boys through equations and illustrations, drawing a full layout of the fuel line hosing from memory to help the discussion about how gravity and mass and velocity all wrap together to affect which engine has the best chance of running the longest even if the fuel pressure drops.

Bucky shifts his hat, moving it from under his arm to hold in both hands in front of his belt to hide the fact that his dick is half-hard. Buck's face is bright and relaxed as he answers a question about the equation. Bucky watches the pilot who asked the question nod along as he makes sense of Buck's answer.

He's so goddamn smart, Buck is. It makes Bucky feel like his insides are sparking when it's on display like this. Buck knows so much and explains it all so well. He's so open with what he knows and never tires at questions or confusion. Watching him be happy to share makes Bucky want to cut the lecture short so he can kiss him silly, taste the chalk dust that's settled on him, and tell him how amazing he is.

The lecture ends, and the room empties out. Bucky stays put, nodding to a few of the boys who say hello. Buck stays up at the front of the room, looking at the chalkboard like he's appreciating his own work.

"Another sold out show," Bucky says once they're alone.

Buck turns and ducks his head. "I think I'm the only show on today."

"That's not true, and you know it," Bucky replies, pushing off the wall and walking slowly up the center aisle to Buck. "You had them eating out of your hand, like always."

"It's just about finding the right way to explain it," Buck says. "That's not hard."

Bucky stops close enough to Buck that their buttons brush together. "You are so goddamn smart it makes me crazy," he says. "You know all this stuff, and you can explain it, and you can figure out how to make it interesting for anyone."

Buck slips a hand over Bucky's hip and shifts so he can slip a leg between Bucky's. "Did I get you riled up again, Major?"

"You rile me up every fucking second," Bucky says, cupping the side of Buck's neck. "But, yeah, watching you work that big brain in front of a crowd really gets me going."

Buck huffs a laugh and brushes his mouth against Bucky's. Bucky tastes the chalk dust and bites his lip so he doesn't moan. "Only you," he says, and it's deeply affectionate.

"Come on," Bucky says, tilting his head to one side. "Let me suck you off while you rattle off geometry proofs."

Buck snorts and shoves at Bucky, but then he reels him right back in and kisses him properly, a slow, steady movement of their mouths matched with an easy glide of their tongues. "I may be the brains of the operation, but you're the romantic," he says.

Bucky laughs and rocks against Bucky's thigh, sighing when Bucky shifts so there's more pressure on his cock. "Come on," he says, "Let's go find a spot to fuck my brains out."

"Only yours?" Buck asks.

Bucky shivers at the challenge in Buck's tone. "I'll never manage, but I will wear myself out trying."

Buck grins at him and takes one step back, grabbing Bucky's hand and pulling him along. "An equal amount of pressure on both sides," he says. "That's physics."

"Uh-huh," Bucky replies. "Keep talking dirty."

[nyaagolor]

Team Star Headcanons

This got dummy long so it's under the cut but I am rotating them all in my brain

Giacomo

Despite having the most stereotypical "delinquent" appearance of all the members, Giacomo is actually the closest thing to a model student that Team Star has. He's extremely organized, motivated, and actually pretty staunchly against breaking the rules unless he has to, so he's a straight A student and has never missed a class

However, he still has a little bit of apprehension about appearing to be like the uptight student council president he used to be, so he purposefully does things to make people think he's more of a slacker than he actually is. He turns in assignments after the deadline and shows up to class late so the teachers don't start getting expectations of him, but they quickly realize he's doing it on purpose when all assignments are turned in exactly 24 hours late and he shows up exactly 5 minutes after the bell with obvious consistency

He was student council president during much of the bullying of Team Star, and still beats himself up about not noticing it sooner or putting a stop to it until the consequences were right in front of him

He was and is the most uptight member of Team Star despite his seemingly relaxed demeanor. He's prone to over-planning, panicking when plans don't work out, and overall is pretty bad at improvising. He's far more high-strung than he lets on. Team Star has done a lot to mellow him out and give him the freedom to express himself, screw up without consequence, and just chill for a few. He's much happier now without the pressure

He loves bass-boosted, ear-splitting music and flashing DJ lights, but is also aware that many people have issues with those (including his buddy Atticus). Bc of that he always has a grunt check with any new members or would-be foes to make sure they don't have overstimulation or photosensitivity issues. Someone getting hurt during a rave would, in his words, "kill the vibe"

He's trying SO HARD to be lofi girl

Mela

She's naturally very cute: she has strawberry blond hair, wide blue eyes, freckles, a dainty stature, a high-pitched voice, and isn't very good at most school subjects. It makes her instantly endearing to basically everyone who meets her, but it also means many people find her annoying / frustrating off the bat and/or don't take her seriously, which really bothered her and lead to her very carefully curated Bad Girl appearance

Mela is very easily frustrated and has a hair trigger temper, which her bullies often used to antagonize her. They purposefully riled her up and caused her to lash out, so Mela gained a reputation as a troublemaker from the teachers. This caused her to fall further behind in school and exacerbated the previous issues

To get people to leave her alone, Mela created a very curated, if inauthentic, "bad girl" persona where she made herself look and act immediately aggressive and rude to everyone. If she didn't let anyone know anything about her, they couldn't find things to set her off anymore, and she'd avoid all the bullying. It did actually work, and people left her alone, but she ended up becoming so feared that she had no friends and no one wanted to be around her. She ended up hanging out with all the academy pokemon instead and developing a close bond with each of them.

Even after she comes back to the Academy she struggles the most out of all the students to fit back into things-- she comes across as a "problem child" which gives the teachers expectations that eventually become a self-fulfilling prophecy. It's only after a long, heated discussion with Clavell that they can start to work past her snippy exterior and get to the heart of the matter. When the teachers give her more patience and extra help, however, they grow to realize she actually does care about learning and is quite sweet

She loves making art. She is also not very good at making art. At the start, she's pretty defensive about it, but is shocked to find the students in art club are extremely welcoming and compliment her work, which makes her beyond happy and extremely motivated to keep trying. Those art club members end up becoming her first non-team-star friends in a long time, and she always brings them out to the courtyard so that her pokemon friends can pose and model for them to draw

She gets really really red when she's embarrassed. Her old, derogatory nickname was "the red-hot girl" because of her temper, but Team Star only ever uses it to joke about how she flushes now

Atticus

Low-hanging fruit here but this man has autism. He cannot read the mood of a room to save his life, and has been known to make extended, sometimes uncomfortable eye contact with whoever he happens to be talking to. He once infodumped to Giacomo about Phoenician Purple for three hours

His speech patterns are partially because of his extreme interest in history and partially because he finds older prose to be more precise in meaning than modern day slang. He is very clear about saying exactly what he means and being extremely specific, so he finds modern day slang with all its double meanings to be hard to follow and hard to articulate his thoughts with. Older prose has these same issues, but no one tell him that

He struggles to pay attention to things unless his hands are busy. Teachers often wondered if he was paying attention in class while sketching designs or sewing things, but it actually helps him focus better

His three greatest skills are his fashion design, his flexibility, and his skill as a nail artist. He can make you the most dazzling star of the school prom and then do a standing backflip when he's done

Atticus cares very little about social conventions or expectations. It worries people like Penny, who fears it makes him a target for bullying because he is so outwardly strange, but it's honestly fine by him. Despite receiving some pretty horrible treatment at the hands of his bullies in the past, he's bothered very little by it, and cares even less about what people think of him now. He has good friends all around him, so if people think he's weird that's on them; he's gonna keep doing what he wants whether or not it gives him a reputation

Atticus is easily the most mentally stable of anyone in the group. Nothing bothers this man whatsoever; he is thriving and in his lane. Despite this, however, he is never asked for advice because he only gives it in Shakespearean riddles

Ortega

He is an exceptional mechanic, and with the help of Atticus has actually made far more impressive vehicles than even the Starmobiles. His pride and joy is a pastel pink bedazzled motorcycle with a sidecar for his Dacsbund. He can't actually drive it because he's 12 and doesn't have a license, but still

All his mechanic tools are covered in rhinestones and his jumpsuit is pastel pink. He is also a straight, cis man, he just personally beat gender roles unconscious with his gold-encrusted staff. He would have kicked it too, but that would ruin his dress shoes and he's too classy for that

He's sassy and snarky, but it's not a defense mechanism like Mela or a consequence of social isolation like Penny, he's just kind of a brat. Team Star has done a lot to humble him and get him to understand the ~value of friendship~ but he was and still kind of is a spoiled little demon

In terms of raw intelligence, Ortega might be the smartest person in Team Star. He's skipped a few grades, excels at basically everything he sets his mind to, and couples it with pretty high emotional intelligence too. If anyone needs help with homework and is willing to swallow their pride enough to ask, he'll easily be able to help

Ortega has excellent dexterity, which makes him a fantastic piano player and quite good at working with very fine machinery. He also got really into baton twirling at one point because he thought it looked cool, so he can do lots of really neat tricks with his staff and pens and whatnot. He loves to bask in the attention that the grunts give him whenever he shows off (which is often. He LOVES showing off)

He has no patience for anything whatsoever. Eri has to hold him back like a rabid chihuahua every time they go somewhere because he is very used to being waited on constantly. Rich boy rehabilitation

Eri

Every one and their mother hcs this but [points at Carmen] Lesbians. Carmen and Eri are genuinely THE power couple; they’re both smart and gorgeous and well-liked by everyone. Carmen is still shocked Eri didn’t snap her like a toothpick bc it would have been deserved but Eri is just that nice. Stop bullies by kissing them so good they realize they like girls

Everyone else in team star stays up until ungodly hours for assorted reasons but Eri is up at like 5 so she can work out for two hours before class. She’s a little disappointed no one wants to join in her workouts but that’s ok! They need their rest. The benefit of Eri’s workouts is that she can carry a team star member on each arm like one of those muscle dudes on the beach, and she does, bc it’s cool

She’s a luchadora! She plays a heel named La Princesa in Paldean wrestling tournaments but it’s an open secret that she’s super sweet out of the ring and always treats her opponents to ice cream afterwards. Genuine treat to be suplexed by her. Despite being able to, she would NEVER hurt someone for real

Atticus had to tailor her outfits bc they didn’t fit. She’s like 6’, curvy, and built like a tractor trailer, so she cannot wear unisex shirts without ripping the damn sleeves off. She’s very kyaa about it. Very >o< about it

Cries during kid’s movies. And ASPCA commercials. And most things actually. The power of friendship does and has moved her to tears. She is mesmerized by the beauty of the world

She gives the best hugs

Penny

Another popular hc but (gestures vaguely at Penny's everything) transfemme. She has the dysphoria hoodie, the six cats, the cybercrime, the depression nest, whatever is going on with her hair, etc. She got sent to "study abroad" and went on HRT I will stand by this until the end of time. She washes down her progesterone with monster energy. Gamer girl. I bet she even plays Bloodborne

Has severe social anxiety / trauma that stemmed from the bullying and just got significantly worse over time. She orders all her groceries online and has them delivered, so she never has to leave her room and does most of her stuff remotely. If / when she does go outside, it's always at weird hours so she doesn't run into anyone. The mere prospect of going into the cafeteria around lunchtime is mortifying to her. wayyyyy too many people. Her anxiety is significantly worse in the academy, and she's able to function better outside of it

She has support systems for days. Aside from her new friends Nemona / Arven / the protag, she has Team Star, Clavell, an actual therapist, a xanax prescription, and six emotional support veevees. Team Star especially does a lot to help reintroduce her to classes and get over the worst of her anxiety so she can go back to school-- and it works! She becomes much more open, less stressed, and happier postgame as she and her friends help each other out

Penny's dad is super supportive but also super embarrassing about it. He is the ultimate trans rights guy but also wears neon rainbow shirts that say "ALLY" in big letters. Penny kept the worst of the bullying a secret from him because there is zero doubt in my mind he would just roll up to the bullies' houses and beat the crap out of them. He WILL throw hands with a 13 year old if they upset his little girl and he is not afraid to admit that. I'm hyping up this man so bad

Penny is an only child (or younger sibling if u hc Peony to be her dad) but has so, SO many cousins who are constantly doting on her. She is quick to try and retreat to her room during reunions and whatnot because she's easily overwhelmed by the attention, but it all gets better postgame. She ends up dragging Arven to her house for the holidays because he doesn't have a proper family and the cousins are completely enamored with him. He's polite, he's happy to help with the cooking, he has a cute dog... Penny's family is absolutely delighted she has such a good friend and Arven is more than happy to soak up all that familial attention. It's a good exchange

She is an insanely picky eater. Arven is taking this as a challenge, and is always trying to make new sandwiches that she likes. Seeing as Nemona and the protagonist would probably eat salami off the floor if given the opportunity, getting a good review from Penny in particular always boosts his ego. He's also made it his mission to sneak in new ingredients in the hopes of expanding her absolutely atrocious palette. It's not going well, but damn if he isn't trying

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Could i get something for the puppeteer with an s/o who is a succubus? Not like THEY FEED OFF THE ACT OF SEX, but feed off sexual energy without having to, "do the sex"

There isn't really intercourse explicitly mentioned, but I am gonna tag this as semi-spicy as it is still technically discussing sexual content to an extent. Hope you enjoy~

The thing is, Pup doesn't mind having sex at all for the most part once the two of you get to that stage, although I will say, Pup does like to actually take things slow in a relationship, especially with his trust issues and insecurities. So, when the two of you first start dating, Pup is a bit nervous about whether you're going to need to have sex with him relatively fast or not because he does tell you right out of the gate that he does NOT want you feeding off of anyone else if you're going to be dating him, and of course, you're respectful of that, so that leads him to wonder if he needs to have full intercourse with you before he's ready.

However, when you explain that you don't need to actually have sex with him, and you can just feed off of his arousal in general, and that he can take as much time as he needs before the two of you start to fully have sex, that gets him feeling much more relaxed and secure. The closer the two of you get to each other, of course, the more you begin to feed off of him. Pup is someone who innately desires an intimate connection with someone, and that's something he begins getting with you faster than he thought he would. Pup, despite not wanting to immediately jump into sex, is someone who can get aroused by his partner quite easily, and that's something you use to your advantage in your relationship with him when it comes to feeding, and he has no complaints about it either, at least, until you end up getting him a little too sexually frustrated, so don't go getting him too riled up in the beginning.

With his high sex drive though, it only takes a little bit to get him going. Pin him down or let him pin you down, grind on each other, cuddle up, and have a nice, intimate makeout session. Just being close to you like that is enough to have him aroused, and it's enough to give you plenty to feed off of. Tease him, caress him, get him worked up, and have a nice delicious meal, he doesn't mind, as it gets him feeling gradually more comfortable with you, and it gets you a nice meal whenever you need one. Over time, Pup will definitely be fine with the two of you escalating into more physical types of intimacy and touching, but I think it takes him probably about a year or so depending on the partner to want to actually be comfortable having full intercourse. Outercourse, though, you can feel free to experiment with after a few months of you feeding off of him, and it's something he enjoys getting to experience with you, and it makes him feel very happy and appreciated and desired and wanted knowing that he's able to satisfy your hunger and desires. Just make sure you take care of him afterward and let him know you love him for more than just his sexual energy, and he'll be incredibly content with your arrangement.

[inyourfantasyfanfics]

heyy! hope you’re having an awesome day so far, heard that your requests are open so i’m just gonna jump straight into it 😂 ok, could i get some headcanons of any of the bucci gang members taking notice of how the fem! reader (their crush) likes a certain artist/group (no need to use a specific one), whether it’s because she has posters of them in her room, she occasionally hums their songs, or the boys took a glance at her phone one time and see her listening to their songs, and so they decide to listen to that artist/group, regardless of whether or not it fits their music taste, so they could have something to talk about with the reader (i just started imagining abbacchio with his resting bitch face and headphones on, and people thinking he’s listening to rock but nope, he’s listening to k-pop girl groups LMAO) tysm! 🥰

THIS IS SO CUTE YES YES YES OKAY!! I hope you enjoy!!! <3

Bucci gang x Reader

Noticing your music

Bruno

For someone so observant I think it would take him a moment to catch on to who your favorite band is, the smaller stuff like the posters CDs humming wouldn’t be lost in him he’d just not connect it till you are having a lovely afternoon lunch with him and chatting about music (I think he’s a smooth jazz, classical, and maybe even some reggae something with feeling as long as that feeling is sensual)

He takes about 50 mental notes after he connects the dots. This would be a great vantage point to get closer to you. So he asks more questions than you expect, not that you mind.

As soon as he’s alone he’s researching and listening to everything he can. It’s different, sure but he likes it. Plus it’s directly connected to you so he is already inclined to love it.

He casually hums a tune around you to get you to perk up and start a conversation with him and he will take the invitation to discuss and turn it into you two spending the day with each other.

Mista

Knows you like a certain artist but didn’t realize how much till he caught sight of a record for the band and off handedly bought it for your birthday. Figured it could be a safe bet. Once you got it he was more than happy that you got so excited and hugged him over it.

After that he made it more of a point to listen to them and other artists like them and truth be told he started to like them a lot more than he thought he would. He would casually slide in close to you on a large couch and mention that he heard a song claiming it as superior.

He’s looking for any reaction really. If you disagree he will enjoy fake arguing and seeing you get riled up or if you agree he will lovingly gaze at how you excitedly explain why you agree.

Congratulations you made this dude pay more attention to your likes not just music but anything because he got addicted to the sight of you so excited on your birthday he wants it to be constant.

Narancia

Has probably heard the band's music already and probably has a strong opinion on it, I’ll say he disliked it at first… till he heard you sing the god awful lyrics. He was so mesmerized by you to make fun of your music taste. If you liked them they can’t be that bad right?

So he starts listening to them again and then he starts relating lyrics to you. All of a sudden it’s his favorite band too. He will steal posters or little items of that band for you and present them like you were lucky he was in your life.

Soon enough when you're singing to the songs he’s making it a duet and will make you dance around with him. He is so happy that he decided to listen again because there really is nothing better than twirling you in the kitchen.

Abbacchio

Noted your music taste and favorite band before you even had a full conversation with him. He of course probably didn’t like it. It wasn’t the worst sure but wasn’t his cup of tea.

This man is down bad though. I think he’s the type to be pinning after someone silently so that person would never know but he sure as shit do. So he’s so down bad for this lady that he extends out of his comfort zone and listens to it anyway.

You and him would be at a table together by “coincidence” (he learned your schedule and keeps subtly inserting himself into it) and he would very discreetly direct a conversation to music and prompt you to talk. There’s nothing he loves more than to listen to you talk.

He’s the only one who won’t say he listens to the band that’s a secret he keeps. That little piece of you he enjoys in his solitude. He doesn’t feel too lonely then.

Giorno

Clocked it so fast! Bro probably knows your likes and dislikes after the first day of encountering you. He’s terrifyingly observant. And so quiet about it too. He speaks up when it matters though! He would watch you put on a song that you played 5 times in the last week. He knows that because he’s firmly planted himself in your daily routine. Kinda like abba but so much more. He’s not too subtle with showing up in your life.

He is the only one that doesn’t listen to it in private. Instead when he notices a song he will ask about it and the band then ask to listen to more with you. He prefers to do this activity right near you. Listening to music in silence then discussing as if it was a philosophical debate.

Afterwards that band is listened to by him when he’s separated from you. Since he planted his roots into your life that means your firmly stuck in his now and he doesn’t quite like straying from that now so listening to your music suggestions gives him some reprieve from agonizing silence.

[captain-nohbo]

More sampo hcs

I'm in pain so yall are getting hcs

Sampo isn't 100% on what his gender identity is and doesn't know if he cares to figure it out

Shout out to the person who said he goes with whatever is funny in the moment because it lives rent free in my brain

One of those people who's gender experience is "I am very content to say my experience is cis, but my feelings on it is more complicated than most people care to figure out"

Any pronouns, any terms mofo

One of those bisexuals that found out really young but autistic edition in the sense of it Genuinely never occurred to him that people are attracted to one gender till someone pointed it

Somewhere on the arospec, specifically in terms of intensity and the misalignment of wanting a relationship in comparison to how he is experiencing the emotions and has a hard time defining it. Usually is a fall fast type though

The being bisexual and gender things are usually things he borderline slams on the table when discussing if he wants to be in a relationship with someone

A lot more nervous about mentioning being polyam and tends to not mention it since he's fine with being mono if he was asked to be anyways

Hobby collector brand of adhd including but not limited to: stage make up, sewing, drawing, photography, lock picking, knot tying, underwater basket weaving, star gazing, and a few other ones with varing success

Does not know how to sit in a chair, more specifically borderline refuses to and will lean against any furniture instead of sitting because he's subconscious too alert that there is any point he might have to book it

Pretty good cook, but absolutely horrible baker. There is something about the exact measurements that get to him

Gepard joked once it was like he was making a bomb instead of a cake and Sampo just went "I KNOW HOW TO MAKE THOSE D:"

Has really good control over the wind element just chooses to keep that ace in his sleeve besides his daggers

Usually uses it while free running and he's by himself, just the pure enjoyment of physical moment and the speed of the sport and chosen solitude

His snow walking is also actually him just making little air pocket for him to walk on and some really precise weight distribution

The occasions Seele has tried to his Sampo, he uses it to dodge her and get he more riled up

One of the first people to realize Seele liked Bronya and has not let Seele live it down

"What do you want Koski?" "Oh, hello Sampo" "Hi Lady Bronya :), *turns* see someone has manners"

Multilingual from Masked Fools/internationally wanted criminal shenanigans. Dan Heng was the first to find out since he just was muttering to himself and Sampo commented on it

Does some translation work as one of his few legal business endeavors

[cheezeybread]

MMmm sorry no requests will be written today, all I can conjure up is a lil oneshot based off of this crappy comic I doodled the other day. I'm slightly better with words, so yay! I might write some more later, who knows!

Floyd and Jade, as well as my oc, Tallulah, are around 6/7 years old in this.

Not proofread, obviously (what do you take me for, some kind of nerd???)

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

"Jaaaaaade~" whined Floyd, flopping his body around in the water like he was being electrocuted "I'm booooored!" As their father's tail whipped around to smack Floyd (at this point, their dad didn't even need to see Floyd to know he was getting riled up, nor did he need to see where the boy was to smack him upside the head), Jade tucked himself near the middle of the table to avoid getting in the way.

Jade smiled in his usual gentle way when it came to his brother, swimming forward to join Floyd once their father's tail went back to its resting position "You say that every year," he reminded him.

"Every year, it's true!" Floyd huffed, crossing his arms "We end up sittin underneath this same dang table for hours while mom and dad sit up there chit-chattin with other boring adults!"

"Those so-called boring adults can snap us in half." Jade offered.

Floyd thought about it for a moment "Okaaaaay, that's less boring." He peered out from underneath the tablecover, lifting the fabric ever so slightly to peek his head out to see the room around them. Jade did the same, curiously watching the larger adults talk and interact.

The Predator Meeting, since it never really had an official name, was a yearly ordeal, and every year, the twins dreaded going to it. Well, moreso Floyd than Jade. Jade found it interesting to watch the other predators of the ocean move. How did they talk, how did they act? He found it all very useful- after all, even for a kid, Jade understood how dangerous the ocean could be, and he hoped to be prepared to meet a predator and survive if the time ever came for it. Even with fellow mermaids, the risk of getting eaten ran high. Especially for small kids like himself and his brother. For Floyd, it was one giant snooze-fest. Their parents made them sit under the table during the discussion, and if they started acting up, they'd be forced to sit in their parents' lap, restrained. He wasn't allowed to talk loudly, wasn't allowed to play with other people's tails. He was only allowed to play with the squishy toys his parents brought along (Floyd wasn't allowed hard toys like action figures and such after he had an "accident" and cut someone one year).

"Ooh, Jade, looky-" Floyd hissed under his breath, as quietly as he could. He yanked on one of the fins on the side of Jade head- earning a yelp of pain from him- and pointed to something across the room. Jade pinched Floyd's shoulder in retaliation before he glanced over at what he had pointed to. A few yards away, just barely noticeable, was a small orca mermaid, her head peeking out from underneath the table as she reached an arm out to hold onto her mother's tail.

"I didn't know there were other kids here," Jade whispered to his brother "Has she been here all these years, too, do you think?"

"I dunno," Floyd shrugged "Do ya think mama will let us go play with her?"

Jade giggled softly, putting a hand over his mouth "When have you ever asked for permission?"

Floyd's eyes lit up, and a wide, maniacal smile came across his face "Oh yeah!" He glanced up to make sure that their parents didn't see them, and then grabbed Jade's hand, tugging on it "Come on, let's go!" Swimming underneath the table to the end as softly as they could, the twins darted across the room- as fast as they could once they came out from under the table and were out in the exposed open area- and ducked underneath the table the little girl was.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak up on her. Floyd debated on taking a bite, and his mouth was already slightly open when the girl turned around, letting out a quiet shriek at the sight of the twin moral eels staring at her with wide eyes (not to say anything about the one with his mouth slightly ajar, looking at her like a meal-).

"Hello," They said in unison.

"....hi." She replied back meekly, her grip on her mother's hand tightening slightly.

"You wanna play hide n seek??" Floyd asked, too excited to contain his energy anymore. He flicked his tail and moved closer to the girl, making her back up and out from underneath the table.

"Good going, brother, now we're gonna get in trouble," Jade whispered, tugging on Floyd's arm "We should go back to mama and papa before they notice we're gone."

But it was too late. The tablecloth was lifted up, and a rather large, muscular Orca-mermaid glared at the twins from her chair, her teeth bared. Once she saw that it was only children, her gaze softened- but only slighty. The little girl was still holding onto her hand, hiding behind her mother's form.

"You two," The Mother said in a stern voice, quiet so that she wouldn't disturb the other merfolks nearby "What are you doing here?"

"We wanna play!" Floyd said confidently, as if she had asked such a stupid question.

"Sorry," Jade tried to apologize, looking as innocent as he could, pouting up his lips and making his eyes wide "We just wanted to say hello..."

The Mother mermaid glanced over to her child before turning back to the twins "You two....you're the Leech's twins, aren't you? I knew that they brought you with them, but I wasn't aware they were so sneaky." Despite sounding stern, her mouth parted in an amused smile "What were you hoping to play?"

"I-" Jade started, getting interrupted by his brother.

"Hide n seek!"

"Hmm...." The mother thought about it for a moment "I'll tell you what. When this part of the meeting is over, I'll go over and talk to your parents. If they say yes, then I don't mind the three of you playing together, alright?"

"Please don't tell mama we snuck off," Jade begged, putting a hand on the woman's tail in a pleading manner.

The Orca snorted, making her daughter look up at her with a note of concern "Alright, alright, I won't say a word, then. If you can get back to your parents without getting noticed, I'll tell them it was all my idea, is that a good plan?"

"Yes ma'am!" The twins chirped in unison.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡