#intersect labs

[ikiprian]

Clone’s Best Friend

“Cute dog!” the girl says. “What breed is he?”

“Uh,” blinks Kon. "Are you asking what breed Superdog is?"

“Uh, duh?”

Well. She’ll have to forgive him his stunned expression, ‘cause he doesn’t usually run into other dog walkers on this path. This is, of course, because “path” is used in the loosest sense, the one that connotates direction and not tread ground, and the “walk” bit is entirely inapplicable, with all of them currently flying one thousand feet above sea level.

“Cujo’s a rescue,” she continues, swinging her feet in the sky, “so we don’t know for sure, but my sister thinks part husky, part shar pei. Half-and-half, like me!”

Cujo is also, apparently, half green and half glowing. He wiggles happily in a play-bow. It’s very cute, except for the way he’s the size of a small house.

Krypto’s tough, though. He barks and chases his new friend through cloud cover. Gamely, Cujo flees. They frolic in the chilly condensation, occasionally poking a head out before diving back in, like a fox in a snowdrift.

Neither of them see anything surprising about this. It’s all good fun. And, well. Krypto’s always been a good judge of character.

Kon turns back to the girl and gives her a megawatt smile.

“He’s Kryptonian. Like me. But he looks like a white lab!”

[terrasu]

I know it's late, but what do you guys think about my brother's latke recipe he texted me last year (ish?)

[dihalect]

my department is apparently no longer hybrid, but “on-site with ad-hoc remote work”. i’m just gonna see how long i can get away with ignoring that

[rapunzelsunshine]

just remembered i registered for 8 am classes monday through friday next semester,, i fear i might do something drastic

[melonnade]

yeah i love women in stem

stalking torture extortion murder

[mintaka-iii]

man I have Got to go back to living with friends. or even friendly strangers. this living alone shit is *bad for me*

[artbyblastweave]

So with superhero origins, what's basically always been the case is that the writers exploit whichever area of cutting-edge science is currently in the zeitgeist, banking heavily that the audience will be unlikely to understand the actual effective limits of the science under discussion. In the pulp era many of the protocapes are getting whatever "power" they have from souped-up training regimens, healthy living, "Eastern Wisdom," whatever. In the thirties and forties it trends chemical- they're taking "miracle pills" or inhaling weird vapors or whatever, its steroids, they're on steroids, or possibly meth. In the sixties, in the atomic age, its particles, its radiation, its rays. Eventually, you know, it's pretty well understood that radiation can't do that either, so they migrate over to genetic engineering, cybernetics, nanobots. Every cape and their brother was some kind of cyborg or lab experiment in the 90s. These days it's quantum this, string-theory that, dimensional wonkery, cats in boxes. In 20 or 30 years we'll have a better sense of what all of that actually means in practice (likely not much) and then it'll be something else.

I've observed that Dr. Strange and other magical characters are actually basically immune to this treadmill, because they're magic- that's already post-modern and fluid and squishy and immune to the expectation of real-world scientific rigor. They're vulnerable to changing cultural perceptions of magic, the Strange of the 60s isn't interchangeable with the Strange from the 2010s, but it's not as drastic a shift. From the other direction Green Lantern is also kind of resistant to the treadmill because the lantern tech is, and always has been, ludicrously advanced and totally divorced from any real-world techno-logic- It's Clarke's third law shit. Flash was forcibly made immune to the treadmill through the introduction of The Speed Force into the mythos- it's not a chemical accident, it's a higher fundamental power, it's just how this universe is metaphysically structured, now stop asking questions.

In due time I suspect that all superheroic origins will converge on one of these. Unfalsifiable magic, unfalsifiable alien toys, unfalsifiable higher unifying forces. Or else they'll fall into the gaping maw of the secret fourth thing that lurks beneath and intersects with all three of these- that you got powers instead of radiation poisoning from that accident because we're in a story, the thing happened instead of not happening because it was more interesting, because "narrative" is a force as real, if not realer, than gravity. Of course it goes without saying that you need to be really, really good at writing to pull off the secret fourth thing. Start fucking around with the secret fourth thing and the result is either going to be genuinely transcendent metafiction or something so self-absorbed and tautological that it disappears up its own ass.

[chiscribbs]

As promised, to show my thanks for getting Grown Apart AU through to the next @tmntaucompetition round - here's a little bonus treat:

A visual chart detailing all the major character relationships in the AU's first act! Enjoy!

(Click "keep reading" for some additional information on a few of the dynamics shown above.)

Splinter & Mikey - When the boys were still very small, Splinter used to take them with him on his excursions out of the sewers (either to get supplies or to search for the two missing turtles). During one of these trips, Mikey got separated from his dad and brother - they eventually found him, mostly unharmed, but the traumatic experience left a lasting mark on Splinter and he has worried about his youngest son ever since.

Leo & Raph - Leo and Raph are the first of the estranged brothers to meet, face-to-face. Raph finds Leo snooping around Draxum's lab and attacks him. Leo manages to escape, with his newly acquired portal sword, but the lab is destroyed in the clash. The two proceed to fight each other on multiple occasions after this, forming a sort of battlefield rivalry.

Donnie & Mikey - By complete and total coincidence, Donnie ends up saving Mikey's life after Draxum drops him off the roof of a building. Mikey takes this as evidence that Donnie is a good person and decides to trust him (despite Leo's protests). Realizing this, Donnie uses Mikey's "misplaced" trust in him as a ticket into the Hamato residence so that he can hide out there until he's apprehended the oozesquitos.

Raph & BM's Assistant - Although Big Mama and Draxum don't work together often, their business does tend to intersect on occasion. Because of this, Raph has had the odd encounter with Big Mama's masked companion. They've never spoken, though (not that BMA would speak even if they had gotten the chance).

Donnie & Raph - They're aware of each other's existence, thanks to their parents' occasional dealings, but haven't actually seen or spoken with each other. Big Mama largely limits Donnie's interaction with anyone outside of herself and hotel staff, and she's especially reluctant to let him meet other mutants (once she learns of their existence) or Draxum. This hasn't stopped him from listening in on some of her business chats via his surveillance tech and finding things out that way, though. Raph only knows Donnie as Big Mama's mechanic and the one responsible for her criminal empire's recent upgrade in technological advancements.

Splinter & Leo - Because of the incident that occurred when they were younger, Splinter has always had a soft spot for Mikey. Leo doesn't exactly resent this fact, but he does often feel like he gets short-changed on all accounts - when Splinter isn't around, Leo is responsible for keeping them both safe and out of trouble. When Splinter IS around, a majority of his limited attention generally gets directed towards Mikey. Thanks to this, Leo is left feeling both a little attention-starved and desperate for some independence. He's too proud to admit to his dad that he feels unseen, though, so he instead opts for causing a little mischief to get the desired attention.

Raph & Mikey - After learning that Raph is not only a mutant, like himself and Leo, but that they were created by the same person - Mikey becomes determined to befriend him and change his mind about humanity. He considers Raph part of the family - even before finding out that Lou Jitsu is their real father, thus making him their real brother. Raph doesn't quite share the sentiment, though - as far as he's concerned, Mikey's the one who's on the wrong side of the fight and no amount of niceness is going to convince him otherwise. (It does, however, make it a lot harder to hate him...)

Donnie & BM's Assistant - These two have a history that goes back several years and has soured with time...on Donnie's end, at least. He used to be close to BMA, considered them a friend for a little while, then something happened to change his opinion of them and caused him to see them as a rival. But what about BMA? What effect, if any, did the loss of Donnie's trust and friendship have on them? As with all things surrounding this character, it's a mystery...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Quick world lore question; does the game ever specify what kind of potions/poisons exist in twst? Like, since it's technically a fantasy world, would things like health/stamina potions like you'd see in rpg's exist? Or would it be closer to reality, like home remedies and basic pharmaceutical stuff?

I'm only an EN player and I havent read all the pomfiore student's vignette's so if they answer this there then im sorry for the bother ; ;

Potions aren't talked about in the only Pomefiore students' vignettes! (In fact, if we're talking just strictly Labwear vignettes... Vil and Rook's don't really focus on potions at all; only Epel's sort of does.) There isn't actually a ton of lore about potions, and in the times when they do become relevant, the writing tends to focus more on the ingredients and/or the preparation process rather than what kind of potion would be produced. For example, the entire Labwear series of vignettes frequently brings up rare or dangerous plants that require the application of magic in order to safely harvest, such as the mandrake and the lantern blossom.

I wasn't able to check all vignettes (since that would be like... what, probably a few hundred at this point? If not that, then at least over 100.), but there's definitely mentions of potions with various effects. From all lab vignettes alone and combing through the main story, here's what I could glean:

transformation/transmutation potions (prologue, book 2, Beans Day, book 6, etc; this is probably the most often mentioned type of potion)

voice-changing potions (Leona Labwear vignette)

color-changing potions (Epel Labwear voice line)

plant growth potions (Epel Labwear voice line)

sleeping potions (Silver Labwear vignette)

awakening potions (Silver Labwear vignette)

magic enhancing potions (book 2)

a potion that changes one part of your body to that of an animal's (book 3)

itch-relief potion (Lost in the Book with Stitch)

potion that heals burns instantly (Jamil Labwear vignette)

On the subject of poisons, no specific kinds are mentioned as far as I'm aware. There's a Poison Refining class (Cater Labwear vignettes), but we don't really get specifics. When poisons are talked about, it's usually in reference to the Fairest Queen or the Pomefiore dorm leader being skilled in making potent poisons, or it's Kalim talking about the many attempts on his life and unnamed poison antidotes. There may be more mentioned in other places, but at this time I don't have the capacity to check every single event and vignette. If you know of any more that aren’t listed here, please let me know and I can update the list!!

It should also be noted that "potions" can also be used for other purposes. This includes creating special effects for movies (mentioned in Vil's Labwear vignettes) and enhancing the effects of skincare (book 6, Azul Ceremonial Robes, etc.).

You'll notice that the effects of these potions can also be achieved via regular spellcasting. (In fact, we see Adeuce practicing color changing magic in Floyd's Labwear vignettes + Vil using color changing magic to help himself hide from paparazzi, etc., Jack's/Malleus's/Azul's UMs also allow them to do things without the help of potions.) Because of this, I believe that potions are meant to be an alternative way of spellcasting without actually needing to use magic. This makes already prepared potions usable by mages who don't want to expend energy/build blot as well as by NON-MAGES.

Within the world of TWST, there is an occupation known as the “medical mage”, who appear to combine magic and medicine into their practice. Furthermore, what is called “Potionology” in EN is written as 魔法薬学 (literally, "magic pharmaceuticals") in JP, implying that there is, in fact, an intersection between magic and medicine. This is similar to how "technomancy" is described to be the cross between magic and technology.

In terms of a "healing potion", there are instances which show that a magic potion may heal or at least speed up the body's natural healing process. For example, in 7-68 of the main story, Baur gives Lilia something to drink to help him with the dire blow he just took. It doesn't appear to restore him to full health though, as Lilia states he still needs rest afterward. In EN, they use the term "potion" but in JP they use "薬" (kusuri), which is "medicine". Baur qualifies the character with "魔法" (maho), which is "magic", so the term he's using is "magic medicine". This is probably the closest thing to a "healing" potion that we know of in the TWST lore.

So technically, yes, TWST has "healing potions". I wouldn’t say there is one blanket cure-all potion though; based on what we know of potionology and how it’s very similar to irl chemistry classes, we can assume that there are generalized “healing potions” but that there must also be far more specialized and targeted ones, similar to medicine irl or non-enchanted or non-magic infused medicine. This is supported by Riddle mentioning a potion that instantaneously heals burns, implying that there is no “cure-all”.

I would imagine that, like transformation potions, “healing potions” would have to be highly regulated since they’re basically a drug 💀 (There would probably be OTC types too, given proper governmental approval!)

[feyhunter78]

I just found your page and I totally didn’t read all of your Miguel O’Hara fics. One I love how you write kissing you caught that spark off a kiss with someone you love in a way most books don’t get right.

I can’t sit here and sing your praise all day but I do have a question. Fully up to you and if it’s just a Drabble that ok but will you ever being writing something else for Side walk kisses? It’s so cute and I can see more moments with Miguel and Y/N just being silly cute mindless college students so helplessly in love. Fluff smut angst whatever you decide to Drabble in I will be fully ok with

(This is the first time I’ve done an ask so sorry I I seem a little over excited)

AHHH I love when I'm people's first asks, it always makes me feel so special!!! I thought I'd try my hand at a bit of angst for you anon!

Insecurities

You know you shouldn’t be jealous. Shouldn’t feel bad about yourself, shouldn’t be debating making up some excuse and dashing off to the humanities building to rid yourself of this pit in your stomach like a snake sheds its skin.

But that would require leaving Miguel alone with Xina, and you think you’d rather die than do that. So, you’re stuck in the courtyard right outside the library, holding onto Miguel’s bicep possessively as you struggle to keep up with the flow of conversation.

Now you wouldn’t say you’re an insecure person, sure you have your insecurities like everyone else, but they don’t plague your mind, or weigh heavily on you as you go about your day-to-day business. Right now, though? As you take in Xina, her long thick dark hair, her stunning almond eyes that sparkle with intelligence, the flawlessness of her skin, the way she so easily keeps up with Miguel as they discuss the intersection between genetics and robotics, you’re feeling pretty insecure.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking, when making your calculations you have to factor in the deficiencies in the code, just as you have to factor in potential genetic flaws.” Xina says, a smile tugging at the edge of her lips, excitement clear on her face.

“Of course, with genetics it’s harder to eradicate flaws than in code, but I could see it following a similar pattern.” Miguel responds, nodding at her words.

You’re so lost. If they wanted to discuss the intricacies of the English language or the way philosophers can so heavily affect the development of a nation’s culture you would be there, front row and ready, but science? Science is not your forte.

Xina laughs and smacks Miguel’s arm, pulling you out of your thoughts, Miguel is laughing too so you do the same which draws her attention to you.

“Oh, y/n, I’m so sorry, we’ve been so rude, what do you think?” She asks, and you can’t tell if she’s genuinely curious, or just hates you.

You stumble for a moment, then say, “I agree with Miguel.”

She laughs again. “You think Charles Darwin would be a good computer programmer?”

Miguel joins in, and for the first time ever his laughter sounds sour to your ears.

“Oh, um, no, I just—”

Xina smiles sympathetically at you, but it feels a bit patronizing. “It’s okay, not everyone can keep up with us.”

Okay, maybe running and hiding was a good idea.

“Y/N is actually top of her sorority for GPA, she’s read more books than anyone else I know, and she helps me write all my lab reports.” Miguel jumps in.

“That’s so cute.” Xina coos, looking at you as if you were a kindergartener presenting her with a crayon scribbled drawing.

You give her a tight smile, then squeeze Miguel’s bicep. “Hey, I’m gonna head to class, but I’ll see you later?”

He nods, and lets you go, reabsorbed in his conversation with Xina.

You toy with the bracelet Miguel got you as you sit at your desk, waiting for class to start. It’s a pretty thing, a birthday present, simple and elegant, highlighting your birthstone, the words, mi dulce, engraved on the inside in a small, flowy script. It jingles pleasantly as you mess with it, and glints under the florescent lights.

“The professor isn’t here yet, right?” Kelsey slides into her desk next to you and starts unpacking her bag.

“No, he’s running a little late.” You say, absentmindedly shading one corner of the blank page in your notebook with your pencil.

“Okay, good because I have something kinda fucked up to show you.” She says, pulling out her phone and scrolling until she finds what she’s looking for.

You lean towards her, the thought of gossip perking you up a bit.

“So, you know that Ava girl, the bitch who used to date your man?”

“I wish I didn’t, but yes.” You grumble, feeling that familiar gloom settle back over you.

“Okay well she’s been trying to get with this Kappa Sig, and you know how the brothers are like obsessed with me because my brother is their president and an absolute legend as they always remind me.”

“Yeah, it’s the reason we got into their parties freshman year.”

Kelsey’s brother was a decent guy, all things considered. Older than you two by a year or so, with the charisma of a cult leader but lacking the desire to start a cult. Throughly satisfied with his fraternity and the Fortune 500 company he’ll go on to work at once he graduates. He was nice enough, extending his protection to you and anyone else close to his sister while in the Kappa Sig house.

“So, one of them texted me about her trying to sleep her way through the frat, but then, my brother sent me this video. I gotta warn you, it’s not school appropriate.” She says as she slowly turns the screen towards you.

At first, you recoil. It’s Ava, half naked, and some guy, on a bed that looks vaguely familiar. The guy’s face is out of the frame, but he’s shirtless, his pants pushed down exposing his dick to the camera, Ava’s hand wrapped around it pumping furiously. “Um, what the fuck is this?”

“Just wait.” Kelsey says quietly, glancing around the room to make sure no one else is watching. They’re not, they’re too busy with their own phones or side conversations.

You half watch the video, feeling weird about watching, your idea of a good time isn’t watching your boyfriend’s psycho ex jack some guy off.

The guy finishes, his hips bucking and Ava saying something you can’t hear since Kelsey’s sound is off.

The camera shakes as Ava picks it up and shows off the face of the man. Dark hair, glazed brown eyes with hints of crimson, perfectly formed lips parted. You know that face, but you don’t want to accept it.

“Is that Miguel?” You’re horrified, sick to your stomach, head spinning, every unpleasant feeling and sensation you could feel erupting all at once.

You can see Ava go to grab his face, guide him lower, moving to take off her underwear, and you turn your head, unable to watch any longer.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know when it was filmed, but Darren said he had one of the brothers send it to him yesterday then made all of them delete the video from their phones. He knows Miguel’s your boyfriend, said he was just looking out for you.” Kelsey puts away her phone and looks at you, eyes searching your face, before giving you a one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry y/n, I can ask him to see if he can find out when it was filmed?”

You want to cry, you really, really want to cry. “It looks recent, that’s Miguel’s bed, I’ve been there, I’ve slept on that bed, I—I can’t think about this right now. Thank you for telling me, and tell your brother I said thanks too.”

Kelsey nods and squeezes you tighter before letting go and giving you a sad smile.

The professor finally shows up, and you throw yourself into your notetaking, graphite digging into the pristine white paper as you try to drown out the images in your head with the sound of your professor droning on.

Part 2 here!!!

TL: @bat-bae, @nyctophilic0vitnir, @smokeywhalee, @obi-mom-kenobi, @prowlingforfood, @penggion, @crystal-crax, @oharasfilipinawife, @generalkenobitrash, @melsimps, @chrishy973, @farrowroyale, @palesatan, @scaryplanetdestroyer, @denzmallows, @36namey, @scoobysnakz, @ihateuguys, @idkbros-world @smartyren, @deputy-videogamer, @blackrose8425, @amberpanda99, @marshhbs, @queerponcho

[honorarysimp]

Epilogue: Heavy with Hoping

series masterlist

(for those of you who want a happy ending)

Two Years Later

The rhythmic sound of the stock room door's latch clicking behind you fades into a soft hum as fluorescent lights flicker to life. A comforting chill greets your skin, a stark contrast to the summer heat outside.

A sense of familiar ease washes over you as you stride through the rows of shelves, boxes in hand. The motions of restocking the shelves are second nature, like a practiced dance. This is your comfort zone, a place where routine and solitude intersect, a silent sanctuary.

The hum of the lights rises and falls in volume as you make your way through the maze of shelves. The air is cool, and the faint scent of medical supplies lingers, reminiscent of countless hours spent here.

Each item finds its place on the shelf, its label facing outwards for easy recognition. Your fingers dance along the edges of boxes, slipping items into their designated spots with an almost unconscious grace. This is a routine you've repeated countless times, and the comfort it provides is grounding.

The repetitive hum of the stock room is interrupted by a sudden gruff voice that echoes from the open doorway. "Hey, quit taking your time in there! We need to get moving or you’ll be late!"

The bluntness of the voice jolts you out of your routine. You glance at your wristwatch, realizing that you've been lost in your own world of restocking, minutes ticking by without notice.

You roll your eyes, a mix of resignation and amusement tugging at the corners of your lips. The final supplies find their places on the shelf, neatly organized. As you dust off your hands and turn to face your boss, Earl stands there, tapping his foot impatiently.

There's no need to ask if he's ready to leave; his impatient demeanor makes that abundantly clear.

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you boss”.

You can't help but muse about how your boss, Earl, fits the description of an impatient old man perfectly. As you hang up your lab coat, you hear his gruff response.

"If you bothered to fix that damn car of yours, I wouldn't have to play the part of your personal taxi driver."

Earl's bluntness is always to the point, no sugarcoating, even when he knows it’s not your fault why your vehicle is in the state it is.

You trail behind Earl as he leads the way out of the supply room and through the main pharmacy area. As you walk, you offer a half-joking remark, "you know, if you really hated playing taxi driver for me, you wouldn't insist on mentoring me to take over this store someday."

Earl shoots you a sidelong glance, his expression a mix of irritation and amusement.

The fresh summer air contrasts with the coolness of the pharmacy as you step outside, closing the door behind you. Earl trundles to the car, fumbling with his keys as he walks.

Taking the moment to yourself, you lean against the door and reflect on the journey you've shared with Earl. You recall the countless hours working side by side, his gruff but knowledgeable guidance shaping you into a competent pharmacist.

Never did you think you’d end up here, giving out drugs to people to help them rather than an illegal means of surviving.

So what if you don’t have the schooling or degree? You’re probably the most knowledgeable person in a hundred mile radius that’s willing to be underpaid just to stock shelves.

Or at least, that was how it started, and Earl just… started giving you more and more responsibilities. You never questioned it, and he never brought it up, and thus now here you are.

The trust he must have in you to entrust his life's work is not lost on you, and a wave of appreciation washes over you. Not only that, but the simple fact he took a chance with you what feels like just yesterday.

You’ve spent every day since doing everything you could to make sure he wouldn’t regret that decision. It’s turned your life around for the better, and you couldn’t be more grateful for the old grumpy man.

The low rumble of the engine breaks the momentary silence, signaling that it's time to get going. You take a moment to mentally prepare yourself for the storm of nerves and anxiety waiting for you at the engagement party, savoring the few quiet moments while you have them.

Earl's gravelly voice calls out from the driver's seat, a hint of anticipation in his tone, "you all set, or you planning on standing there all night?"

You roll your eyes at Earl's grumbling, a small sigh escaping your lips as you push away from the door. With a determined stride, you make your way to the passenger seat and slip into the car, shutting the door tightly behind you.

As you buckle your seatbelt, you mutter, "let's get this over with, old man."

Earl grips the steering wheel tightly, his eyes fixed on the road as the car begins to move. A few minutes of uncomfortable silence pass by before he finally breaks the ice.

"So, uh... what are you gonna do when we get there? You know... when you see her?" His voice is laced with an awkward gruffness, clearly struggling to breach the topic.

A soft, almost amused laugh escapes your lips as you look over at Earl. Despite his grumpy exterior, there's a glimmer of concern in his eyes. It's moments like this that remind you that beneath all the gruffness, he does care.

"You're actually trying, huh?" You reply, a trace of humor lacing your words, "I guess there's a heart under all that bark after all, old man”.

Earl grumbles under his breath, seemingly uncomfortable with the compliment "yeah, yeah, just answer the damn question”.

The light of the descending sun on the horizon dances across his aged face as he keeps his gaze fixed on the road, waiting for your response.

You take a deep breath, the air in your lungs becoming heavy for a moment as you reflect on the distance that has developed between you and Mabel over the past two years.

The lack of communication, the infrequent phone calls... it's like witnessing a rare astronomical event in your daily life.

The weight of unresolved feelings and words left unsaid sinks in, adding to the anticipation of the reunion ahead.

You give a nonchalant shrug, attempting to conceal the true depth of your emotions. "I've gotten over it," you assure Earl, though your words are tinted with a hint of resignation, “as long as she's happy, I'm happy for her."

It takes a conscious effort to keep the tone of your voice steady and unbothered, as if the matter is trivial. Deep down, however, the wounds of the past still ache, stubbornly refusing to heal completely.

As you sit in the passenger seat, the landscape of memories plays behind your eyes. The day you decided to let Mabel go stands out like a vivid painting in a gallery of recollections. You recall how she walked away, how the mutual understanding between you had made the decision feel almost inevitable.

Both of you had known that your paths were diverging, that the timing was all wrong. The pain of that realization, the weight of those unspoken words, lingers in your chest as the car carries you closer to the engagement party.

Earl brings the car to a halt in front of a familiar house, the neighborhood triggering a wave of nostalgia. He shifts the gear into park and turns to you, the gruffness in his voice softening slightly.

"You want me to come in with you?" He asks, a hint of concern in his tone. His gaze is fixed on your face, assessing what you could be feeling yet reluctant to reveal.

You shake your head, summoning a half-smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. As you open the passenger door, you reassure him briefly, “I’ll stick with Rach and the boys. Just enough time to not seem rude when I leave early”.

Earl nods his understanding, his eyes lingering on you for a moment longer. It’s as if he knows the toll this evening might take on you but respects your choice anyway.

Earl fidgets in his seat as you get out, a hint of discomfort on his gruff face. He clears his throat awkwardly and offers a gruff comment, “call me if you need anything”.

You lean in through the roll-down window, mustering another attempt at a reassuring smile. It feels strained, but you hope it communicates the sentiment. “Will do,” you reply, a tinge of resignation in your voice.

You pat the frame of the rolled down window a few times, a silent sign of appreciation for his support, before stepping back from the car. You raise a hand and offer a lighthearted salute as the car pulls away, disappearing down the road.

You take a moment to gather yourself, the silence of the evening sinking in as the taillights fade into the distance.

You stuff your hands into the pockets of your jeans, a subtle protective gesture you’ve always had a bad habit of, maneuvering your way through the open fence gate into the backyard. The sound of laughter and chatter grows more pronounced as you approach, hinting of an animated gathering in progress.

As you step fully into the backyard, you can't help but survey the sea of familiar faces, nodding and responding to the occasional greeting. The scent of the grill wafts towards you, mingling with the sounds of laughter and conversation. It's a familiar scene, but the atmosphere seems different tonight, charged with anticipation, and a hint of melancholy.

You continue to scan the crowd, the flutter of your heart betraying your composure. Internally, you chide yourself for being so apprehensive, but the truth is you're searching for her. Yet, she remains elusive. The unease in your chest intensifies as you fail to spot her among the gathering of familiar faces.

Your eyes land on Nunes, and a genuine smile spreads across your face as you approach him and the lovely woman at his side. The sight of their happiness eases some of the tension in your chest, and you move toward them with a newfound sense of warmth.

As you draw closer, you offer a heartfelt congratulations, “Nunes, you motherfucker! I still can’t get over how great the two of you look together”.

Nunes and his fiancée brighten up as you approach, their faces lighting up with joy. Nunes grins widely and exclaims, "You made it! I didn't think you'd come”.

Without wasting a moment, he clasps your hand and draws you into a quick, warm hug. The familiarity of the greeting is both comforting and bittersweet.

You return the smile apologetically as you pull away from the embrace. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world," you reply sincerely.

His fiancée Jamie, still radiating happiness, steps forward and surprises you with a brief but warm hug. There's a sense of familiarity and acceptance in the gesture, further easing your nerves.

Her cheeks flushed with joy, turns to you and says, "I'm so glad you came. Rachel mentioned earlier that you were coming."

She then playfully smacks Nunes on the arm, likely in response to his light-hearted teasing.

You chuckle and rub the back of your neck, your eyes subconsciously scanning the crowd once more. With a hint of distraction, you offer an absentminded apology, "sorry for being late. I was helping Earl with inventory and stocking the new delivery."

Your focus is torn between the conversation and your search for her presence in the crowd.

Nunes, sensing your distraction and its cause, gently nudges you with his elbow. His expression softens into a sympathetic one, and he utters quietly, "they aren’t here yet."

His tone is laced with understanding, likely sensing your tension and anticipation. The news isn't an unwelcome one, giving you a bit more time to mentally prepare before the inevitable reunion.

You express your gratitude to Nunes with a more genuine smile, and he responds with a reassuring pat on your shoulder.

He and Jamie then move on to chat with other guests of theirs, which you’re happy to exempt out of. Now left alone, you make your way through the crowd, your mind still spinning with thoughts and anticipation.

You're on a mission to find your sister-in-law, Rachel, hoping her and the boys’ grounding presence will help to calm your nerves.

Moving through the throngs of people, you scan the faces, trying to find Rachel. The noise of the gathering seems to fade into the background, replaced by the thrum of your own heartbeat. You're desperate for her comforting presence, a calm in the storm of emotions you're feeling.

Eventually, you spot her near one of the food tables, casually chatting with some mutual friends.

A wave of relief washed over you as you approach, and the moment Rachel spots you, she smiles warmly and politely ends her current conversation. She rises to greet you, wrapping you in a familiar and reassuring hug.

Rachel's arms envelope you in a warm embrace, her presence alone providing a modicum of comfort to your overactive mind. Her smile is genuine as she pulls back, a knowing look in her eyes. "I'm glad you decided to come," she says, her voice a gentle and soothing balm to your anxiety.

You respond with a shrug, your hands instinctively seeking solace in your pockets. However, Rachel catches the action and you quickly cover it, offering a casual excuse, "I wasn't going to miss it."

Her eyes narrow slightly, aware of your nervous gesture. She knows you too well to be fooled by your attempt at nonchalance.

Rachel looks at you for a long moment before saying, "the boys aren't here, by the way. They're staying with their grandma tonight."

Her words hit you like a wave, and your shoulders sag visibly at the news. A mix of disappointment washes over you, leaving you a jumble of emotions.

You pout dramatically, making a sound of mild protest. "Boo, why am I even here then?" you grumble in a playful yet petulant tone.

Rachel laughs and smacks your chest lightly in response, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Stop," she teases, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads towards the keg.

You follow along, Rachel's playful banter helping to elevate your mood. However the habit is hard to shake, and you find yourself subconsciously scanning the crowd again. Your gaze darting from face to face, searching for the one person you're simultaneously wanting and dreading to see.

Your momentary distraction is broken when Rachel suddenly shoves a cup into your hands. A reflexive “shit" escapes your lips as beer foam spills over the rim, splashing your hands. You hiss as the cold liquid dribbles down your fingers.

Rachel continues to serve herself a beer from the tap, her smile full of laughter. She glances at you with a mixture of amusement and sympathy as she questions, "did she not tell you when they were going to be here?"

Her words hang in the air, the implication obvious. She knows you've been waiting for her, and her question gently prods at the delicate nature of the situation.

You switch the cup to your drier hand, shaking off the excess beer from your wet one. In response to Rachel's question, you offer a nonchalant shrug, accompanied by a sarcastic mutter, "what do you think?"

The question is rhetorical, the answer obvious. Mabel's lack of communication in the days leading up to the event is painfully apparent.

Rachel rolls her eyes and lets out a soft huff, her sympathy clear. She knows the strained state of your relationship with Mabel, and her concern for you is palpable. Taking a drink of her beer, she regards you with a firm yet gentle look “you ever going to talk to her about it?"

You remain silent for a beat, sipping your beer. Rachel observes you carefully, her gaze lingering as she continues, "you know she's graduating next week, right?"

You don’t comment on the fact Rachel still keeps tabs on Mabel and how she’s doing.

The mention of Mabel's impending graduation punctuates the tension in the air. There's a loaded pause before you finally respond.

You mutter, "she's mentioned it," your voice tinged with a hint of resignation. Then, the thought of potentially attending the graduation crosses your mind, followed by the uncertainty and doubt, "I don't know if she'll want me there—"

Rachel looks at you with an ‘are you kidding me’ expression, her disbelief obvious. She interrupts you before you can continue your self-deprecating thought.

"Don’t even play with me right now. Seriously?" she inquires incredulously. "Of course she’s going to want you there," her words are firm and confident, as if she can't believe you're even questioning such a thing. Her expression is a mix of disbelief and annoyance, almost insulted on both your behalf.

You can't help but smile, a mixture of bittersweet nostalgia and comfort washing over you. The fact that Rachel still dotes on Mabel after all these years despite everything that's happened, is a bittersweet reminder of the complicated ties that binds you together. It's simultaneously heartwarming and unsettling, the back and forth of the dynamics between you.

About that moment, a voice rings out from the crowd of partygoers, calling out to Rachel. She turns her head in the direction of the voice, her expression conflicted as she glances between you and the person calling out to her.

You take a sip of your beer, offering a reassuring smile and giving a slight tilt of your head, silently telling her to go.

As Rachel backs away, mouthing an apologetic ‘I'm sorry’, you wave your free hand dismissively. She lingers for a moment longer before reluctantly turning to disappear into the crowd.

You shove your free hand into your pocket, subconsciously repeating the nervous habit. Your gaze once again scans the crowd, searching for any familiar faces.

A swear rolls out in a muttered expletive as you start moving through the sea of people. You're determined to find someone, anyone, that you can talk to that’ll keep you occupied.

You force on a few polite conversations, exchanging pleasantries with people you recognize. Your phone feels like a weight in your pocket as you sneak glances at it here and there, hoping for a message that never comes. After about an hour, your social battery starts to drain.

The chatter and forced smiling are becoming harder to maintain, and the waiting game is taking its toll on your patience.

A brief eruption of cheers from your left draws your attention, and your stomach drops as you spot Tom entering the backyard.

And right behind him, Charlie.

The sight of them together has a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins, a mixture of nerves and anticipation.

Your breath catches in your chest as you wait for her to follow after, your heart pounding wildly in the silence. A moment passes, then another. She doesn't appear. Confusion and disappointment wash over you, replacing the expectation with a pang of unease.

Where is she?

Your gaze meets Charlie's for the first time in almost two years, and a pang of guilt and regret hits you. Your history together wasn't exactly marked by animosity, you both are civil after everything, but friendship wasn't the most accurate description either. He is dating the one woman who holds your heart, after all.

Your gut clenches, a mix of emotions flooding you as you lock eyes. Time seems to stand still for a brief moment, the weight of the tension hanging between you both.

To your utter surprise, Charlie nods in acknowledgement, his eyes then looking past you as if searching for someone else. The gesture is unexpected, leaving you slightly baffled.

The action leaves you a bit puzzled — perhaps he's searching for someone else, or maybe he doesn't want to engage in a conversation.

You shake off the feeling, watching as Charlie vanishes into the crowd of people. The sudden wave of emotions washes over you, making you feel overwhelmed. You decide to detach yourself from the crowd, taking refuge alone for a moment.

Setting your still-full beer on a nearby table, you quietly slip away, the music and chatter from the party becoming a distant hum behind you.

As you make your way around the house, the sounds of the party fades into the background. The vehicles line the street, and as you reach the front, you find yourself in a familiar place. Your thoughts are consumed by a single, repetitive question.

Why didn’t she show up with Charlie? Where is she?

Your fingers tremble slightly as you retrieve your phone, and your heart thumps wildly in your chest as you locate her contact. The internal debate rages on— do you call her, text her, wait for her to reach out first?

Your heart jolts in your chest as your phone suddenly rings, and a mix of shock and anticipation washes over you. Seeing her name flash on the screen makes your stomach twist in nervous knots— a strange coincidence, as if she knew what you were debating in your mind.

There's a moment of hesitation as you stare at her name on the screen, a battle of hope and fear warring within you.

After what seems like an eternity, you finally swipe the screen to answer the call. Your heart is racing, a million thoughts swirling in your mind as you lift the phone to your ear.

The sound of her voice, her familiar tone, washes over you like a wave. The first words out of her mouth, “took you long enough" ring through the phone, prompting a mixture of relief and disbelief.

A laugh escapes you in response, and almost unknowingly, your gaze begins to sweep the street.

"That's rich, coming from you” you reply, a mix of amusement and annoyance in your tone as you stride across the front yard towards the street. "You're late," you add, the words carrying a hint of tension. Your steps quicken, propelled forward by the mix of emotions that the phone call has set ablaze within you.

The evening air feels charged with anticipation, the sound of crickets and the distant murmur of the party a faint backdrop to the steady thump of your heartbeat. With the phone pressed to your ear, you continue your stride, your gaze still darting around the street, searching for any sign of her.

Her voice over the phone is slightly sardonic, and she responds something along the line “fashionably late, as always.”

You stifle a smile at her cheeky remark, finding it inexplicably endearing. As you step into the middle of the street, the sound of your footsteps on the pavement echoes around you.

You pose the question, curious about her absence alongside Charlie. "So, I noticed you didn't show up with Charlie," you comment, trying to keep your tone casual.

She responds over the phone with a hint of mockery, "Oh, you noticed that, did you?"

A smirk forms on your lips as her sarcastic reply rings out through the phone. Your eyes wander upward, taking in the beauty of the setting sun.

The vibrant colors in the sky momentarily distract you, but her cryptic response snaps you back. You respond with a mix of irritation and curiosity, "don't bullshit me, sunshine. What are you playing at right now?"

Her voice continues on the phone, saying "we have a lot to talk about" at the exact moment you hear a car door open just down the street. Intrigue and curiosity flicker in your eyes as you hear the noise, and without thinking, you pivot your head in its direction.

Your heart skips a beat as your gaze falls upon her, the long-awaited moment finally arriving as you drink in her familiar features.

Those captivating brown eyes and the smile that has haunted your thoughts, it all comes rushing back. She’s as beautiful as ever, and the sight of her makes your breath catch in your chest. It occurs to you then just how much you craved this, how much you missed her.

As the sight of her hits you, your body reacts instinctively— a mixture of relief, excitement, and an overwhelming surge of feelings you couldn’t quite describe washes over you all at once.

Time seems to slow, and for a moment, the world recedes into a blur, leaving you and her alone in this instant. The sound of the party fades, replaced by the rush of your own heartbeat in your ears. It takes every ounce of willpower not to run to her.

Your smile widens as she closes the car door and ends the call simultaneously. The sight of her approach, coupled with the act of hanging up, triggers a powerful mixture of emotions. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, and you feel an almost magnetic pull towards her. Summoning all your willpower, you begin to close the distance between you two, forcing your feet to move forward.

The setting sun casts a warm glow on her figure, emphasizing her natural beauty. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, but even in that casual style, it’s effortlessly perfect. As she approaches, her dimples and freckles stand out against her sunkissed skin, enhancing the natural radiance that seems to emanate from her.

Your arms extend outward, a mixture of disbelief and joy etched onto your face. Your words hold a deeper meaning as you utter "what the hell, dude?"

The phrase carries a heavier weight, beyond just the surprise of her impromptu appearance. It’s a question of all the moments of doubt, the days of missing her, all packed into one bewildered question.

Mabel’s eyes light up with a familiar grin you thought you may never see again, reminiscent of the first time you met years ago.

She almost skips the final few steps before launching herself into your waiting arms. Her legs and arms wrap tightly around you, and you instinctively catch her, holding her close. Being so close to her, feeling her warmth and being surrounded by her scent, stirs up emotions you’d almost forgotten.

Who are you kidding? You couldn’t forget even if you wanted to.

You keep her securely in your hold, spinning around with her in your arms. Her joyous laugh rings out, filling the air and igniting a spark of warmth in your chest.

Holding Mabel like this, you can feel every movement, and it brings back memories of all the times you’ve longed for this closeness. Your chest aches with a mixture of emotions, both bittersweet and exhilarating.

As you slowly set her back down, her hands gradually glide down from around your shoulders and come to rest upon your chest. Her face is flushed, cheeks rosy, and the smile she gives you is significantly softer. Gazing at her, her eyes meet yours, and your heart clenches involuntarily.

Her voice is hushed as she utters a soft "sorry," a simple word carrying an unprecedented amount of unspoken significance.

The memory of all the times you’ve longed for her to come back rushes through your mind, but in this moment, those past years of missed chances and lost contact are suddenly unimportant.

You murmur a response, your voice tender and heartfelt, responding with a simple and honest "me too."

Her lips part slightly as she wets them, a hint of uncertainty in her expression. You can sense her hesitation, struggling to find where to begin. Though amidst her nerves, she surprises even you when the first thing that spills from her lips is, "Charlie dumped me."

The statement takes you off guard, and surprise flashes across your face. Confusion worms its way into your thoughts as you begin to understand why Charlie arrived alone. Trying to make sense of it all, you ask, "wait, what? Why?”

Her fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, an unconscious motion, the touch sending a shiver down your spine. As she speaks, her gaze momentarily averts to the side, her voice far too calm as she reveals, "he broke up with me at the end of my freshman year last year."

The revelation hangs in the air, and your heart sinks upon hearing her words. The fact that she's kept this to herself for an entire year tugs at your emotions.

Why didn’t she tell you?

Your expression softens slightly as you process the information, and you gently urge her to continue with a quiet "why?"

Her hesitation is evident, and you notice her cheeks caving slightly as she chews on the inside of one. She takes a deep breath and starts with, "he was pretty convinced my heart wasn’t in it, that it never would be”.

Mabel’s gaze then meets yours, a quiet determination laced within the myriad of emotions in her eyes. Her voice trembles a little as the final words leave her lips, "he was right."

The weight of her words hangs in the air, and suddenly, everything feels heightened— the sound of your own heartbeat, the feeling of her hands on your chest, the distant background noise— all of it blending into a moment of heightened awareness.

As the pieces fall into place, a sense of both understanding and terror washes over you. Every moment spent apart, every missed opportunity now glaringly obvious.

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, your hands moving to cover hers. Your eyes never wavering from hers, a moment of stillness in the midst of it all.

Instead of asking the more important questions, softly, you murmur, "you live, and you’ll say the wrong things… do the wrong things… make so many mistakes, but… people will love you anyways."

Your heart beats furiously in your chest, which you’re sure she can feel under her palm, each word carrying a silent plea for her to understand the depth of your feelings.

The evening air seems to still, a shared moment crackling with intensity as your words linger between you. Your hands encircle hers, a silent reassurance that you are there, that you care. Your eyes locked on hers, searching for any sign that she understood the message behind your words.

Mabel’s eyes, already holding a mix of vulnerability and hopefulness, soften even further as they remain fixed on yours. A flicker of doubt flashes in them, but your words seem to spark some sort of silent realization. A breath catches in her throat, and her gaze trembles with a surge of emotions that she attempts to keep buried.

For a brief moment, you see a hint of understanding, the walls she’d built around her heart slowly beginning to crack. Mabel’s voice is barely a whisper when she finally responds, "I think I was waiting for you, I think I always was”.

Your eyebrows draw together in a slight frown, confusion and surprise lacing your expression. A mix of hope and uncertainty mingles within your mind, and the question escapes your lips.

"What do you mean? Waiting for me for what?" Your voice is softer, a hint of curiosity and bewilderment in your tone.

Your mind struggles to piece together her meaning as she says, "I wanted to finish college first, I didn't want to risk the distance hurting us, now it won’t."

That’s why she didn’t tell you? Or, maybe you should’ve known, but how could you have? Considering how little you two have talked.

The response, classically Mabel, is both perplexing and strangely logical. The reasons she gives make sense, in a roundabout way.

It's a mixture of caution and a desire to find the right timing, and somehow, it resonates with you.

But then the words sink in, rolling around in your mind, and you start to understand. Two years ago, you allowed her to walk away for a reason. You didn’t want to rush things, to risk losing her.

It gave you both the time you needed.

And now, hearing her own reasons, it all clicks into place. She wanted the same thing, to do it right with you. The realization strikes you like a wave, a quiet surge of hope and conviction taking hold in your heart.

Despite the hope and conviction swelling within you, a hint of humor seeps into your voice as you respond, the corners of your lips curled into a smile.

Your voice is soft and bittersweet as you whisper, "that’s selfish."

The words come out slightly broken, tinged with a hint of resignation mixed with affection.

Her laugh, soft and melodic, rings through the air. Her hand rises to gently cup your face, and the slight tremors in her touch send tingles down your spine. As she replies, there's a hint of vulnerability in her voice, but she owns it with a simple admission.

"I know."

The words, spoken with a mixture of acceptance and defiance, hang in the air between you.

Her voice starts to express her apologies, the words of needing you to know and the regret at taking so long flowing out of her. But your hand rises swiftly to cut her off, gently but firmly covering her mouth. The action is instinctive, a silent plea for her to let you speak.

You intercede with a simple, firm response, a playful tone underlying your words as you start with, "don’t."

Before she can say anything more, you give her a playful look, and she instinctively swat your hand away. The gesture is lighthearted, a silent confirmation that she gets it, that she understands not to linger on apologies.

As you continue, your fingers gently brush away strands of hair from her face, a natural gesture betraying your desire to be near her. You casually follow up with “how long will you be in town for?”

The question is laced with a hint of subtle pleading, hoping the answer is not ‘a few hours’ or ‘a few days’.

Mabel’s response hits you like a punch to the gut “just the weekend" she says, and your heart sinks in your chest. A mixture of disappointment and resignation washes over you, the reality of her limited time here settling in. Yet, even as she gives you a somber but knowing smile, you can't help but appreciate her honesty.

Her voice breaks through your thoughts once again, a quiet hope in her question. "I was wondering if I could crash at yours while I’m in town... if that's okay?" Her eyes meet yours, silently pleading for your acceptance.

The request takes you off guard, but only for a moment. Your heart skips a beat, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

This. This is your Mabel. This is who you fell in love with, who you’re still in love with.

In truth, both of you already know the answer before it can even be spoken. The answer is a silent yes, a silent invitation to come closer, to be with you as long as she can, as long as she’s willing to linger.

To stay.

Your hand tentatively reaches out, gently taking hers, and she allows you to clasp it in yours. With a soft tug, you begin leading her back towards the party, your voice breaking through the moment.

"Come on, everyone’s waiting," you say. It's a simple statement, a reminder of reality, but also a silent admission that things may have changed, but life still goes on.

But maybe, just maybe this time, that isn’t a bad thing.

Her laughter rings out, a beautiful and familiar sound, as she easily interlaces her fingers with yours, falling into step beside you. Her voice carries a hint of playfulness as she responds, "can't they wait a little longer?"

The question is light-hearted, a hint of a tease in her tone, and the feeling of her hand in yours sends a jolt of electricity through your veins.

As your gazes meet, a moment of silent understanding passes between the two of you. You can see it in her eyes, a mirror of your own thoughts.

It's almost painful how well you can read each other, how you both just get it, how instinctively you know each other even after so much time has passed. The look, shared silently, says more than words ever could.

Mabel gives your hand the most subtle squeeze, a silent ‘we’re going to be okay’.

There is still so much to talk about, so many things to work out, but at least for now that’s promised. Time has allowed you both to grow, to heal, to find your way back to each other.

But deep down, you knew that was never a doubt, if anything it was merely a matter of time.

So you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze that coveys ‘I know’.

____________________________________________

You lay back on a creeper, its metallic frame rolling slightly as you work on the underside of your car. The familiar scent of motor oil and metal fills the open garage, along with the faint sound of the radio playing in the background.

With each movement, you tinker with something, but your focus is split between the task at hand and the subtle but unmistakable sound of footsteps approaching.

Your heart skips a beat as you hear her distinct voice give a soft "hey" just loud enough for you to catch over the music.

Turning your head, you catch a glimpse of her distinct boots at the front of your car, right where your legs stick out. Mabel’s presence alone is enough to make your heart flutter, and a small smile tugs at your lips.

You should hate how easily you’ve gotten accustom to having her around again in such a short amount of time. But you don’t.

You chuckle softly as you feel her boot nudge the creeper just to the side of your thigh. A moment later, the bottom of a beer bottle suddenly appears in your line of vision, hovering just inches off the ground. She knows just how to coax you out, knows just how to get you to take a break.

With a smile, you give in. Grabbing a bottom porting of the car frame and scooting yourself out from underneath it.

As you stand up, your eyes meet Mabel’s, an instant connection sparking between you. The grins that form on both your faces are goofy, but endearing all the same. As you take the beer, you purposefully stand a little too close, the proximity igniting a subtle current of electricity between you two.

You raise the beer in a silent thank you, your gazes locked on hers. She meets your gaze intently as she taps her bottle against yours.

The gesture feels intimate, a quiet agreement that proceeds to hover between you. You both take a long swig from your bottles, the taste of the cold beer mingling with the undeniable tension in the air.

The last two days with Mabel staying at your place have been a mix of familiar comfort and restrained electricity. There's an unspoken agreement between the two of you not to push anything, a mutual understanding that the timing needs to be right.

However, you’re pretty sure you’re both starting to get impatient.

You both navigate around each other, dancing around the lingering feelings and unsaid words as you both relearn one another. Even the most mundane tasks are imbued with a charged energy, a silent acknowledgement of the connection between you.

Every coincidental touch, every glance, carries a weight of unspoken desire and longing.

Mabel breaks the tension by clearing her throat and gesturing towards your work in progress. Her voice is soft, a hint of admiration in her tone as she speaks.

"It's really starting to come together," she says, her gaze taking in the sight of the car.

The break in the tension is subtle, yet palpable, the small act of interest shifting the focus away from the magnetic pull between the two of you, and towards the tangible thing in front of you.

You take a moment to collect yourself, your gaze shifting from her to the car. You nod in agreement, your voice holding a note of determination and acceptance. "It won't be the same," you admit, "but that's alright. It just makes more room for something new."

Mabel looks at you, her perceptive gaze catching the underlying meaning of your words. Her response, delivered casually with a sip of her beer, is playful, yet hinting at a deeper understanding.

"Does this mean I need to invest in another sticker for your dash?" she asks, a smile tugging at her lips. The comment hints at a memory of a time when even a simple sticker held heavy significance between the two of you.

You look at her, sipping your beer before resting it on your tool bench. A subtle smile plays on your lips as you respond, "well, that depends. Are you reclaiming my passenger seat?"

Your voice is light, but there's a hint of challenge in your words. It's a playful jab, a reminder of the space she once occupied in your vehicle, both physically and metaphorically.

She mirrors your action, setting her beer down and crossing her arms, a determined look in her eyes. In response to your question, Her eyes fix on yours, pinning you with a look and her response comes quick and assured, "well, that depends. Are you coming to my graduation next week?"

The question hangs in the air, a challenge wrapped in an invitation. More so, it’s a silent plea for you to be there, to be a part of her milestone moment.

In the past, you might have made her work for it, given her a hard time for not being explicit. But this time, things are different. You know better now, you've changed, improved. The urge to be playful, to tease her, is still there, but you don't act on it.

Only now, you see past your old charade and respond with "Mabel, you already know that I'll be there” your voice is firm, sincere. It's a promise, a silent affirmation of your dedication to being there for her.

That you won’t make the same mistakes.

Her eyes widen, a soft, vulnerable expression flickering across her face. It's a subtle change, a glimpse into the deeper emotions brewing beneath the surface.

You've noticed it happen more and more as you two are reacquainting yourselves with each other, and the sight of it tugs at your heartstrings.

Or just maybe, she’s realizing more and more just how much you’ve changed, how much you’ve grown.

The vulnerability, the honesty in her eyes, speaks volumes silently, echoing the connection that's reforming between you both.

Your response is laced with honesty as you continue, "I'll be honest, I wasn’t sure if you wanted me there, just with how things were before”.

The words are a direct, candid admission of your doubts about your presence at her graduation. You lay bare the uncertainty that has lingered, a reflection of your complicated history.

Your eyes meet in a moment of intense chemistry, her lips parting to reassure you, but before she can utter a word, you jump in to finish your thought.

"That was before," you say, "but now? Not even God himself can keep me from you”.

Your declaration is spoken with an air of finality, an unwavering promise that no force could prevent you from being there for her.

Mabel's emotions get the better of her as she moves closer, her gaze searching yours intently. In a whisper, she utters words you never thought you’d hear come from her mouth: "I consider myself lucky”.

The words hang between you like a tangible thing, the weight of them echoing in the space around you both and wrapping around your heart. The vulnerability in her voice, the sincerity in her eyes, leave no doubt to the depth of her feelings.

Mabel's voice softens further, the intimacy between you growing like a living thing as she speaks. She draws closer, the words falling from her lips like a benediction.

"Somehow, I manage to exist within your time of being. I stand on the same ground as you. I breathe as you breathe."

The rawness in her voice, the intimacy in her gaze, feels almost like a declaration, a confession of her connection to you, woven into the very fabric of time and existence. Every word is filled with a profound and unspoken meaning.

Driven by the intensity of the moment, you make a bold move. Your fingers find the belt loops of her pants, and with a gentle tug, you pull her forward closer to you. Mabel, in response, smoothly steps into the gesture without protest. The action feels natural, like a dance that your bodies can still remember by muscle memory alone.

She looks up at you from under hooded eyes, her gaze heavy with a mixture of emotion. Her hands come to rest gently on your abdomen, the fabric of your motor oil and grease-covered shirt bunching in her grasp.

It's a gesture filled with familiarity, and from the way her fingers clutch the fabric, it becomes apparent that some things haven't changed. The act of touch, of grounding herself to you, feels natural, comfortable.

Mabel's voice is soft as she looks up at you, her hands idly tugging the fabric of your shirt.

In a quiet, vulnerable tone, she asks, "you gonna to stick by me?"

The words hang in the air between you, heavy with the weight of all that's happened and unspoken. It's a question that she's been silently asking all this time, a need for reassurance as she holds your gaze intently.

The question itself is simple, but the weight behind it, the hope and uncertainty, is palpable.

Your fingers involuntarily tighten on her waist, holding her just a little closer. You respond without hesitation, your voice steady "ride or die, right?"

Her lips quirk at the cheesy catchphrase, "ride or die," she repeats regardless, the words carrying a weight you both know all too well. Her hands, still grasping the fabric of your shirt, give a faint tug, pulling you even closer.

Pushing up on her tiptoes, hesitantly grazes her lips against yours, the contact fleeting but electrically charged. Your response is immediate, your lips parting involuntarily, as if they too are responding to the pull of hers.

A rush of thoughts, feelings, and emotions fill your mind– the familiar yet thrilling sensation of her touch, the unexpected tenderness, the connection that still thrums like a heartbeat beneath it all.

She draws out the moment, her lips lingering just millimeters from yours. A small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth as she brushes her lips against yours again, a playful comment falling from her lips.

"If you still taste like motor oil," she teases, her voice a low whisper “I’ll fucking kill you”.

You respond with a smirk, leaning in to fill the gap between you. "You never minded it before," you murmur against her lips, your voice rough with suppressed desire. Your response is instant, a retort fueled by the chemistry between you.

The words are a statement, a fact that holds more weight than either of you can acknowledge right now. Before Mabel can respond, you're unable to hold yourself back any longer. You close the remaining gap between you, claiming her lips with yours after so long apart.

Mabel responds without a beat, her fingers burrowing into your hair at the base of your neck as she pulls you down even more. Her kiss is hard and full of an undercurrent of desperation, as if she's been yearning, aching for this moment.

The kiss is filled with a hunger and intensity that speaks volumes of the emotions bubbling just below the surface for you both. It's a kiss that screams of missing you, of needing you.

The kiss is electric, a rush of sensations and emotions that feels like art made flesh. The taste of her, faintly sweet with a hint of beer, reminds you of a summer rain after a hot day. This kiss, this moment, is the culmination of longing and desire, finally merging into something tangible and real.

The softness of her lips, how her teeth graze your bottom lip, the way her tongue invitingly curls into your mouth. The heat of her breath against your skin is a familiar, yet thrilling sensation that feels like home.

This time, you’ll both get it right.

Because a door means nothing, when a person is your home.

And now? You’ve both come home.

previous.

[lowaltitude]

Imperfect Storm | Billy Hargrove

- Stranger Things

- x Reader

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ introduction❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ fight❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ detention❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Y/N, I-”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ the calm❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ the storm❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck,” I whisper.

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

I nod, “Yeah, are you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You like that, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ fear ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ hope ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ unwilling ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ unwavering ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We had English together last year, remember?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ unknown ❞ ─────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I nods eagerly, licking my lips.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───── ❝ exposition ❞ ─────



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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Copyright © 2023 Altitude. All rights reserved.

[merbear25]

Twisted desires (Caesar)

A budding flower of newfound interest quickly grew into full bloom the longer she spent with the man who hired her. Two damned souls with different purposes in life, and yet their paths couldn’t have entwined more perfectly, intersecting at just the right moment. Getting close to a man like Caesar Clown would require a bit of persuasion as Lucille came to realize. However, that wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle.

a/n: This is a trade for @luci0elle. I was so excited to do this trade with you! I had a blast writing it. Thank you so, so much for suggesting it. I hope it lives up to your expectations!

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!OC/self-insert (name used for reader), dubcon, drug use, alcohol, vaginal penetration, pegging, cumshot

Wandering behind the buildings of the labs she couldn’t justify calling home, the alleyways paved her road to a future where she’d be offered a blank slate. No ties to the government and none to Vegapunk, instead it would be left up to her full discretion. 

The sun had long since set and the dark clouds casted over any possible navigation by starlight, meaning the pipes that ran above were her only chance of finding a way out of this maze. With residue oozing from the pipes, the dripping substances only further engrained the life she saw for herself.

Ducking out of sight, evading others, eyes set on the target as the sound of rushing water filled the air: Lucille made a break for it just as a security guard spotted her. A leap of faith sent her hurtling into the waters below where her title of government property washed away with the tides.

Since then, she stuck to the shadows and offered the lethal skills infused in her DNA as a service. Although a couple of customers made the mistake of double crossing her, the result was more or less the same—a clear message of what would happen if others tried the same.

Even with operating behind the scenes, word spread among those who were in search of such expertise. Spoiled with choice of who she deemed worthy of her time, someone only familiar by name caught her eye—Caesar Clown. It was an offer she couldn’t refuse. Be it led by morbid curiosity of genuine interest, the deal was made and their fates were merged if only by their signatures.

Neither of them were what the other had expected; the dashes of personality that contradicted word of mouth were both refreshing and worrisome. Finding out who they really were while being in such close proximity wasn't something to be taken lightly.

His suspicious sideways glances, countered with her playful energy sent his reservations towards her for a loop. The evident want she expressed to be around him when she wasn’t off on a mission was…unnerving. 

What did she have up her sleeve? was the question that wracked his brain more often than he cared to admit. But still, the bubbly and apparently genuine interest she took in him was received well. After all, how could he resist being fawned over by a deadly force such as herself?

“Come on! I want you to test out one of the cocktails I made!” Luci tugged at Caesar’s coat relentlessly.

His eye twitched in irritation. “I’ve already told you I’m very busy and—”

“You’re always ‘very busy’!” She grumbled.

“And what? I suppose you’re going to say ‘it won’t kill you to take a break’?” He mocked her typically playful tone.

“Is that a challenge?” Luci’s face showed a glimmer of mischief as a coy smile spread on her lips.

A hue of pink dusted his face at his own slip of the tongue. He huffed at her persistent nature, reluctantly surrendering to the silver-eyed woman cocking an eyebrow at him. “Fine. Show me what attempt you’ve made.”

As she led him to the kitchen, his amusement in the confident strut she had made it difficult to suppress even the faintest grin. 

“Take a seat.” She gestured to the sofa.

“You’re going to serve me too? Seems I’m getting the royal treatment,” Caesar chuckled. She gave the concoction in the drink mixer a few more good shakes, while sticking her tongue out at him, earning herself a couple more laughs.

Gently, she placed the fuchsia alcoholic beverage in front of him. The swirls of edible glitter danced even under the fluorescent lights.

“Adding something as gaudy as glitter to the drink? Must have looked atrocious beforehand.” He teased, bringing the glass up to his lips.

“I just know how much you can’t stomach a real drink, is all,” Luci whispered. She leaned in, showing the bit of cleavage spilling out of her top.

His cheeks reddened, so he turned away from her and threw half of the drink back in one gulp. There was lust peeking behind her sultry stare, making him chug the remainder of her experimental talents.

She shifted closer to him, her leg now pressed up against his without letting up on the rising want in her demeanor. “Well?” Her voice trailed into his ear. “What's the verdict?”

The assassin's cool tone as she awaited his critiques was faintly nerve-racking. She gently brushed her chest against his arm, when he began stumbling over a response. “It was deceivingly strong…just a tad though.” He added so as not to give Lucille the satisfaction of being right about his intolerance to hard liquor. 

Clearing his throat, the feeling of her rubbing up against him was causing his mind to go fuzzy. He couldn't think straight, only being grounded by the redheaded beauty's touch. He rubbed his temple, trying to regain focus.

“Did…did you put something in that drink?” He tugged at his clothes, which were beginning to feel like they were uncomfortably snug.

Luci gave him a helping hand by unzipping the front on his body suit. Revealing his chest and slender stomach, she ran her hand over him greedily. The dampened skin heightened her longing to see more of him, to feel more. The shaky pants that passed his lips grew more and more needy as her touch became more assertive.

With no say in the matter, the drug forced his body to release pheromones laced in a nearly sickeningly intoxicating aroma. A deep sigh escaped her as the desired effect took its course on her, as well.

“You drive me wild. You know that, don't you?” Her fingers aggressively tugged down his boxers, revealing one of the side-effects. 

The sharp inhale of his throbbing cock meeting her firm grip only made him more irresistible. Her pupils dilated as she watched the subtle shifts in his facial muscles: reluctance, embarrassment, and finally surrender. The hands of a killer could do more than stomp out the light in her victims’ eyes—capable of bestowing unimaginable waves of ravishment throughout them just as skillfully.

“You want more, don't you?” Lucille nodded, coaxing the same out of him. With a dark smile, she swiftly derobed.

Standing in front of him with smug confidence, the slick arousal between her legs made his heart race. As much as he knew he shouldn’t want her, there were other forces at play, which made his better judgment take a backseat.

His cock twitched as she traced his jaw with her delicate fingers. “I’m going to let you feel every ounce of pleasure you’re burning for, don’t you worry.” A temptress in her own right, he didn’t stand a chance against her dark charm.

She guided him to her bedroom, a domain where she had home field advantage. As she climbed onto her bed, the arch in her back put her wet pussy lips on full display. A suppressed whimper could be heard behind her as she bent over in front of him. His long, lanky limbs caged her small form in. The tip of his cock pressed against her aching core. The close proximity caused the emitting side-effects of the drug to waft over her, causing her patience to wane at an alarming rate.

Unable to wait any longer, she eased herself back on him as far as she was physically able. Tingling sensations of overbearing fervor pushed her into a frenzy. Bouncing up and down his length, the leverage of her on all fours gave each of them rush after rush of pure bliss. Stretching herself out from his girth had her clawing at the bedsheets in a desperate attempt at seeking stability as she plunged him deeper and deeper inside her.

Choked sobs from above gave her more than enough encouragement to keep the fast pace. A large shaky hand gripped at her hip. “F-fuck…” Caesar moaned.

A growl rose from her throat as she slammed her dripping core roughly against him, causing his balls to slap against her clit. With the overpowering erotica flooding his senses, the room began to shift and spin. His body trembled and grew heavy, causing him to slump over on his forearms suddenly. He could barely keep his weight above her.

Cupping his tired face, an unfamiliar warmth emanated from her hand. “You shouldn’t have downed your drink so quickly,” she teased. He groaned from the way her body was still wrapped around him. “Shh, don’t worry. I’ll make things much easier on you.”

When she crawled out from under him, he collapsed on the inviting comfort of her bed. Breathing heavily, the drug's effects were making it impossible for him to ease his swarming thoughts. He watched Lucille carefully, craving more of her but unable to decipher whether it was solely due to the drug or not.

She snuck around him, letting both her hands caress the sides of his hips and waist. His body responded instantly: quaking from the unexpected tenderness in her touch and yearning for sweet release.

“You want it so badly, yeah?” She cooed at him.

He buried his face into her pillow, the scent of her driving him further into madness. A deep gravelly groan was forced into the pillow as he nodded slightly in response.

She chuckled softly. Grabbing a spare pillow, she wedged it under his hips, leaving him in the perfect position for what was soon to come.

While focusing on inhaling the faint scent of Lucille’s shampoo in the fabric of her pillow, the chilled lube caused his body to tense. Her calming voice rocked him back into a trance, and as her slender fingers pressed inside him, his eyes rolled back.

The tip of her strapon buried into him. His hands tightened their grip on the sheets, and he bit her pillow as his body was being forced to accept it at a much faster rate. Strained huffs and cries of euphoria were music to Luci’s ears.

“I didn’t think the potion would have worked this well,” she grunted, wasting no time pounding into him.

The curses dripping from his quivering lips were laced with remaining toxins of the elixir. Caesar cried out for her that further fueled her motions, making each thrust more and more intense. He was close, teetering on the edge.

She reached down to stroke him, rendering him helpless to the paradise she’d bestowed upon him. Each jolt of pleasure raptured his body. The skilled tugs of his painfully carnal urge to give into the temptress who’d successfully had her way with him ate away at every fiber of his self-control.

A wanton soaked shriek was muffled into her pillow as he spilled every last drop of fervor into her hand. The overflow of the pent-up sin cascaded onto her bed and splashed on the other pillow. Choked whimpers were soothed by the tender hand of his hired assassin. Soft hushes and light kisses along his shoulder eased him down from his high.

“If things continue this well, you’ll be ready for more soon enough.” There was a sadistic pleasure she took seeing him completely spent and knowing that she’d get her fix in due time.

He groaned and nodded. Having just experienced an explosive orgasm, there was a part of him that just couldn’t be satiated. Damn her for having made such a lascivious test subject out of him. His eyes rolled back as he began hardening again. He thrusted against the dampened pillow, groaning from the overstimulation. Damn her and the spell she casted on him.

[wolfjackle-creates]

Bring Me Home Arc 2 Part 9

Time for another WIP Wednesday! Wasn't sure how much I'd get out today, but had a sudden burst of inspiration and so you've got a decent segment here. Hope you enjoy!

Story Summary: Tim and Danny are both neglected by parents who care more about their work than their families. They deal with this by spending too much time online and find each other playing MMORPGs. They keep up their friendship as Tim becomes Robin and Danny becomes Phantom and don't bother keeping secrets from each other.

First, Previous

Word Count: 1.5k

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The first thing Tim and Conner did once on the ground was determine which streets were still intact enough for vehicles to drive on to set up transportation routes in and out of downtown.

“Superboy! Can you clear the road of glass and debris?”

“You’ve got it, Rob.”

Conner had barely started when a group of four ghosts noticed them and flew at them, batons raised. Tim shot them with his blaster. It pushed them away too far to use the thermos and he cursed under his breath.

“Keep going, Superboy!”

“This section is clear. Let’s go!”

Two overshadowed humans, one only a kid, started throwing debris at them and Tim dodged as he rushed towards them. Two quick blaster shots expelled the ghosts and this time Tim made sure to trap them in the thermos before they could get away.

The no-longer-overshadowed humans sat hard on the ground and held their heads.

“Are either of you hurt?” Tim asked as he looked around to make sure no other ghosts were going to attack.

“I— no, no. I’m fine,” said the older one, a hispanic woman in her late thirties in casual clothes. “Gabriella?”

Gabriella couldn’t have been more than ten. “I’m fine, Mama. What happened? Who’re you?” The last part was directed at Tim.

Tim hadn’t had to explain who he was in ages, but he smiled disarmingly. “I’m Robin. And the boy over there is my teammate Superboy. Phantom called us in to help with the invasion. We’re going to get you out of here, okay? But we need to get moving now. Can you do that?”

“Yes,” said the mother. “Come on Gabby. We’ve got to move quickly. Like racing your cousins.”

He and Conner fell into a rhythm. Conner would use TTK to clear several dozen yards of road while Tim would keep the ghosts away. All humans they rescued, up to ten now, were kept between the two of them to make it easier to keep an eye on them.

When not clearing the road, Conner would shoot at all ghosts with his weapon which had better range and a wider blast than Tim’s.

They’d managed to move about five blocks and this time, when Tim tried to use the thermos, nothing happened. He curse and grabbed the blaster to at least get it away from the people he was protecting. Turning on the mic on his Fenton Phone, he said “My thermos is no longer working. I’ve thirteen ghosts in it. Could it be full?”

“Shit,” came from Danny. “Must be. Um, B— er, Impulse. They can be emptied in the Fenton’s lab. Can you bring Robin’s thermos to the lab and back? I can’t get in with the shields up. I can give you instructions once you’re inside on how to do it.”

“Can do, Phantom,” replied Bart. “Location, Rob?”

Tim gave his location and seconds later Bart was in front of him. He handed over the thermos and Bart was gone so quickly he had to thank him over comms.

“Hey, Robin. I think my… The Fentons are near your location. They seem to be trying to hold the perimeter, so if you can get past them your people should be as safe as possible. Take a left on the next street and it’s just another two blocks.”

“Thanks, Phantom!”

Then Bart was back with his thermos. “All empty and ready to go!”

“You’re the best, Impulse!”

Bart saluted and was gone again.

“Superboy, we’re taking a left at the next intersection. The Fentons have a barricade set up and everyone should be relatively safe once we get past them.”

Sure enough, once they turned the corner, they could see the Fenton’s GAV and the flashing lights of emergency vehicles behind them. At the sight of safety, over half their humans began sprinting forward, heedless of debris in the street and running right past Conner.

Tim cursed under his breath as ghosts tried to rush the panicking people, and Tim was kept too busy shooting them away to be able to use the thermos as well. But then the Fenton’s saw them and added their own firepower to the mix. Everyone made it past the barricade.

Tim was the last to cross the barrier and found Conner already talking to some of the officers on scene.

“Robin, I’ve asked to speak to the police chief and head of EMS. We’ll accompany ambulances and firetrucks through the downtown area to help any who are trapped that Impulse and Wonder Girl haven’t already helped.”

“Excellent.” Tim turned the mic on his comm on again. “Impulse, Wonder Girl, report. How many have you found that need to be removed by ambulance?”

“Surprisingly, not that many,” replied Cassie. “We have five that we’ve found so far and Impulse has pretty much checked every building.”

“Anywhere you haven’t been able to get into?” asked Tim.

“There’s three banks, the backroom in a jewelry shop, and the back of a pharmacy. But the pharmacy gate was mesh and I couldn’t see anyone. No one replied when I shouted back to see if anyone needed help, either.”

“I’ll see if anyone has contact with those locations.”

Danny spoke up, “The portals closed by themselves five minutes ago. I’ll check them out.”

“Thanks, Phantom,” said Tim.

With impeccable timing, the police chief finally arrived just as Tim finished touching base with the rest of his team.

“We didn’t have a chance to send out a distress signal before communications were disrupted. How did you know to get here?”

Tim shrugged. “I’m friends with Phantom and he asked for help. Impulse and Wonder Girl have found five people too injured for them to safely evacuate. We’d like to get ambulances to their locations as soon as possible. We can probably keep two safe at a time.”

“Hmmm,” the chief looked over at the people Conner and Tim had already rescued. EMTs were checking them over and treating the minor injuries they’d received. “My men haven’t heard a single complain and the people you rescued speak highly of your skill. We’ll take you up on that, Robin. But if any of our people get hurt on your watch, it’ll be on your head.”

Tim couldn’t help but roll his eyes behind his mask, but he smiled the gala-smile his mom had drilled into him and said, “Yes, sir. You have my word we will keep everyone safe to the best of our abilities. Which is quite a lot.”

At that point, Jack Fenton came over. “Didn’t expect to see any superheroes in our little town! How’d you get a hold of our tech? Do you like it? Think the rest of the Justice League would be willing to put in an order or two?”

Tim turned the gala-smile on the man. “You must be Jack Fenton,” he said as if he’d never met him before. “I’m Robin and this is Superboy.”

Conner nodded, “Hello, Mr. Fenton. This tech is quite impressive. You’ve done good work.”

“We heard you were the best for ghost weapons,” said Tim, “so tried to stop by your house when we first came to town. But the invasion had already started and you were out here fighting already. Your son helped us find weapons that suited us. I hope that’s all right?”

Jack boomed a laugh. “That’s my boy! Of course it’s all right. Dan-o knows our inventions almost as well as Mads and I do.”

Maddie came over as well. “It’s great to see someone else use them. Let us know if there’s any improvements you’d recommend or anything that isn’t working out quite right.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Tim. “They’ve been working great so far.”

“Oh, that’s so lovely to… DIE GHOST SCUM!” She turned away from him halfway through her sentence and shot a beam from a bazooka at a group of ghosts trying to sneak past the barricade.

Jack stared adoringly at her. “That’s my wife!” He returned to his own weapon.

The ambulances arrived minutes later and Conner and Tim spent the next hour evacuating the five injured victims.

As the night wore on and downtown fully evacuated and more ghosts trapped in the thermoses and sent back to the ghost zone, things got quieter. And around four in the morning, they decided it was safe enough to call it a night.

Phantom carried them back to his house invisibly and they changed in silence, too exhausted to say anything. Danny retreated to his own room so Sam and Tucker could make sure he’d wake up in time for school and the rest stayed in the guest room. Tim, Bart, and Cassie all managed to squeeze into the queen sized bed while Conner took the floor.

Tim was asleep nearly as soon as his head hit the pillow.

I'm not very good with action scenes. Have very little practice with them, honestly. So hopefully this doesn't come across too rushed! I hope to get better with them as I spend time in this fandom.

-----

Next

This takes place before the introduction of the Specter Deflector. I'm not sure if I've mentioned that in any notes yet. I think I have, but idk. So if you were wondering why Danny didn't just give everyone one of those, that's why.

I will no longer be doing tag lists, but please turn on notifications for the Subscription Post if you want to be notified when this updates.

[lexosaurus]

January 2, 2024

@vladco-tech-official Amity Park, IL

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to express my enthusiastic interest in the Ghost Researcher position at Vladco Technologies. With a Bachelor's degree in Dissecc and a strong background in Ecton Science, coupled with my experience at Ecton AU and Dalv Co, I am confident in my ability to become the Casper-friendly researcher you've been waiting for.

In my current role as an Ecton Scientist for the Ecton AU, I played a pivotal role in the creation of a scientific paper published on AO3 discussing how ecton fusion generates energy for ecto-entities. This research has equipped me with a deep understanding of ecto-technologies and a passion for exploring the intersection between the supernatural and earthly scientific realms. As for Everything Was White on AO3, I've been crafting a very family-friendly wholesome fic that proves ghosts have complex emotions that go beyond just skin-deep.

My previous stint as a Ghost Researcher at Dalv Co, before the rebrand, involved daily tasks such as performing ghostly rituals, wielding my trusty Danno on a stick, and conducting experiments with scalpels left in jello molds. This experience has honed my ability to balance the scientific and spiritual aspects of ghost research, making me a valuable asset to Vladco Technologies.

Apart from my formal education and professional experiences, I have a track record of creative endeavors in the ghostly domain. As the writer and producer of the song "Dissecc," I showcased my ability to blend humor and knowledge in the realm of ghostly activities. Additionally, my leadership role in creating world peace as the Leader of Riots demonstrates my capacity to navigate challenging situations and foster unity.

In addition to my technical skills in Photoshop, I possess a keen eye for detail, as demonstrated by my ability to spell "vinella" and "raison" correctly sometimes on command. My proficiency with spelling, combined with my experience in creating quality content on Tuuuble dot ru, further contributes to my well-rounded skill set.

Thank you for considering my application. I am eager to bring my skills, experiences, and enthusiasm to Vladco Technologies. I look forward to discussing how I can contribute to your organization as your next spectral specialist.

Looking forward to the possibility of haunting your labs soon!

Boo-raciously Yours,

Tugnlr User Lexosaurus

-

p.s. plz hire me kthxbye

[irondadgroupie]

Tony being a notoriously crazy driver. He will get you where you need to be but to him speed limits are suggestions. Hey, if the road is free why not revv a bit?

With Peter on, Tony will not compromize safety. He still goes with the flow but is more careful and attentive and doesn't speed as much. Alright, he still speeds much more than the average driver but only when it is safe to do so.

"Shit..." Tony mutters when the light turns yellow. He could still stop but that would mean immediate breaking and he thinks 'fuck it'.

"Mr Stark!"

"Old greens, Pete." The man waves his hand. "Everyone does it."

"You're really bending the rules."

Once they cross the intersection, Tony hears a siren and sees a flash.

"Oh shit." Peter says and Tony bops him on the forehead.

"Hey! You never tell me off for cursing!"

"Yeah, well, a police man is coming our way, we don't want to appear anything more than law abiding citizens."

Tony rolls his window down and smiles slightly.

"Good evening, sir. Did you notice you ran a red light."

"It was still yellow when I entered the intersection-"

"It turned red while you were there."

"I know, my bad, I am usually more careful."

Peter snickers a bit despite his anxiety. Or maybe due to his anxiety. He glares at the boy, tells him wordlessly to shut up.

"Driver's licence, please."

Tony hands him the plastic card and the officer raises an eyebrow.

"What?" Tony asks. "I live here, you know."

"Yeah, I know. I noticed the resemblance but I thought-"

"Yeah, that's the thing with meeting celebrities. You never think it will happen to you."

"Well, I love what you do as Iron Man."

He nods and smiles, his gesture more genuine than before.

"Wait here, please."

Tony sighs and sink back against the seat.

"... How long will you be in jail?"

"In- what? Kid, you don't go to jail for what I did!"

"But I've heard-"

"Look, I've not gotten a ticket in- what- two years. This was just one tiny mistake. They won't even fine me and if they do it's not the end of the world."

And what would you know, the officer comes back with his licence.

"Okay, everything was in order. Given your record and the nature of the mistake I'm going to let you go with a warning but if this happens again-"

"I will assure you, I'll be more attentive in the future."

But the officer is no longer watching him. Instead his eyes are glued on Peter. Or rather-

"Your kid isn't wearing a seat belt."

"What?" Tony jerks his head to the right and to the innocent looking child with no seat belt. "Peter!"

"You left in such a hurry and I had a hard time clasping it-"

"You must always wear a seat belt in a car! That is the number one rule!"

"I know and I always do but I think it got jammed or-"

"You should have told me! Screamed! Something to let me know!"

"I didn't want to bother you-"

"You're definitely getting a ticket now."

"What?!" Tony snaps and points at Peter. "He is the one not following rules! Why am I being punished?"

"Because you're a driver and he is a minor under your care. You should have made sure the seat belt was on."

"I'm sorry, Mr Stark." Peter's face was red with embarrassment. "I can pay it."

"Oh, you will, kiddo." Tony glares at him. "You're in lab scrubbing duty for a month."

Peter cringes. Tony's lab was huge, with the tables and delicate surface cleaning it was a real pain. "Can't I just give you money."

Tony gives him a blank look and shows him the ticket. Peter pales at the sum.

"Umm..." he does some mental calculations, adds up his allowance and the worth of his Star Wars figurines. Yeah, there was no way he was going to get the money in a reasonable time. "Lab duty?" he smiles at his mentor and Tony rolls his eyes but his look is now much softer.

"Well, I guess I made the right choice. A couple of hundred dollars versus you flying through the windshield... I've faced worse odds."