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aemondsbabe · 11 months ago

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Give Me an O!

summary: billy walks in on you in a bit of a compromising situation, and you finally go after what you want

pairing: billy hargrove x cheerleader!reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is very flexible, minor injury it's fine, piv sex, unprotected sex oopsy daisy, public sex technically, hand over mouth, fingering, breast/nipple play if you blink, dirty talk, reader's hair is long enough that she can have a ponytail but no other physical descriptors are used, billy is a himbo, steve harrington cameo

word count: 5k

a/n: finally getting around to a request from @sweetshifter! thank you for the idea bby & i hope ya enjoy! also, my first time writing for stranger things! yay! images in the header are for aesthetic purposes only!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

gif creds to @unwanted-animal

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“You sure you don’t want me to stay with you?” Your best friend asks as she slings her gym bag over her shoulder, “I don’t mind staying a couple minutes.”

“Nah,” you shrug, still panting a little from practice as you lean to the side with a little sigh, stretching down toward your leg, “You go on, I’ll catch you tomorrow.”

“Alright, cool,” she chirps, glossy lips flicking up into that sincere, beaming smile that had become her signature, “Bye!” She calls over her shoulder as she turns, white tennis shoes thumping against the shiny wooden floor as your name echoes around the gym.

“Bye, Chrissy!” You reply with a smile, glancing up as the heavy metal doors at the side of the room click closed, leaving you alone for the time being.

With a tired huff, you check your watch, one that matched Chrissy’s exactly – gold with a baby pink face. You’d gotten them at the mall last summer, a joint birthday present.

4:34pm.

A sigh leaves your lips as you lunge forward, hands planted firmly on your hips as you try to ignore the slight burn in your thigh. So, that’s… like, forty-five minutes until basketball practice starts, you think, eyes pointed up at the white metal ceiling as you do mental math, trying to figure out exactly how long you’ll have to work on your stretches.

Deciding to give yourself a few more minutes before calling it a day, you breathe out steadily through your pursed lips as you switch sides and lunge forward again, savoring the light burn in your calf. After a fifteen second count, you move onto your hands and knees, needing to stretch out your back.

You hum softly under your breath, one hand planted firmly against the blue tumbling mat beneath you as the other reaches back and grabs onto one of your ankles, your limbs forming a graceful arch above you. A small grunt leaves you as you pull your leg up as high as you can, before dropping it down and reaching back with your other hand to do the other side. Mid-pose, you swear you hear one of the gym doors click open, the one out to the hallway with the locker rooms and various storage closets judging by the direction, but you’re so focused on holding your pose, you honestly can’t be sure.

Huffing, you decide to just ignore it – Probably just the janitor or something, you think, keeping your eyes focused, once again, on the white metal ceiling as you roll over onto your back.

Breathing steadily, you let your eyes slip closed as you press both legs together before slowly lifting them up, using your hands and elbows to support your back as you lift onto your shoulders. Wincing slightly at the twinge of pain from your left one, you work through it, trying to keep your breath steady. As your green and gold cheer skirt pools at your waist, you silently pray that if it is a janitor, that it’s at least not the creepy one.

Slowly but surely, you work both legs up and over your head until the tips of your white sneakers press into the mat, your arms planted firmly onto the floor for support.

One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi, you count silently, breathing a little shakily as you focus on balancing… and on ignoring your shoulder.

Suddenly, a loud wolf-whistle cuts through the silence of the gym, punctuated by a few slow claps and the heavy footsteps of someone walking across the wooden gym floor.

“Aah!” You squeak as you topple to the side, concentration thoroughly broken. Huffing, you prop yourself up on one elbow as your head snaps up, eyes already narrowed into an irritated glare. Upon seeing who it is, you can’t help but sneer.

“Can I help you, Hargrove?” You sigh, exasperated, rolling your eyes as you angle both legs out in a side split, determined to get through your stretches even with the added annoyance of Billy’s presence.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he drawls, blue eyes trailing up the length of each of your spread legs in a way that makes your cheeks flush, “You’re real good at that, aren’t you?” He questions, plump lips quirked up into that signature, flirtatious smirk.

“Good at what?” You ask, brows furrowing as you bend over to the left, easily grasping the toe of your tennis shoe as the muscles in your legs stretch into a taut, familiar ache.

He chuckles at that, hands on his hips as he studies you, the spicy, woodsy smell of his cologne filling the space around you. He cocks his head to the side, pearly white teeth flashing every few seconds as he chews a piece of gum.

“Stretching,” he all but purrs, golden curls blowing slightly from the large fans that hum loudly on the ceiling. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he ogles at you, watching carefully as you bend to the right, “I bet it’d be really easy to just fold you up like a pretzel, huh, sweets?”

With a sigh, you finally let yourself relax for a moment and tilt your head up to look at the boy as you lean back on your hands, your ponytail swishing across your shoulder blades as you do.

“In your dreams, Billy,” you murmur, trying to keep the expression on your face plaid, wholly uninterested, which is easier said than done.

You don’t like Billy, and you’re very quick to correct anyone who says you do, even if it is just friendly teasing. But, well, there’s something about him that just draws people into his orbit – charisma combined with a certain mystique. You knew from talking to the girls in the locker room that he was a lady’s man, and a player, but from how they all talked about him, there appeared to be something more there, some hidden layer that no one had been able to crack yet. He’s different from the other boys in Hawkins, no small town charm to hide behind.

Plus, come on, he’s gorgeous. You might not be Billy’s biggest fan but you have eyes.

“Damn right, in my dreams,” he murmurs, pulling you from your thoughts as he draws out every syllable of your name in a low, husky tone, familiar smirk playing at his lips like always.

Cocking your head, you narrow your eyes as you peer up at him, “Aren’t you going out with Amber now?”

“Wouldn’t exactly call it going out…,” he answers as he bends down on one knee to retie the laces of his shoe, shooting you a little wink as he does so.

“Does Amber know that?”

He pauses at that, a little huff of laughter bubbling up from his chest as he fixes you with a grin that is much too self-satisfied for your liking. “Now, princess,” he starts slowly, blue eyes narrowing at you playfully as he rests a forearm across his knee, “Why do you care so much about what I’m doing with Amber?”

“She’s my friend, Billy,” you say, sitting up a little more, the chill from the AC units making the hairs at the nape of your neck stand on end.

“So, it’s definitely not because you’re, I dunno, jealous or anything?”

“No!” You cringe inwardly as you say it, too quick and too defensive and just what the blue eyed boy had been hoping for, judging by the smug grin plastered on his face.

This is how it’s been between the two of you for months now, ever since his stupid Camaro had rumbled into the school’s parking lot way back in August. Since then, it’s been a whirlwind of teasing jokes, sitting through History class after History class as you feel those blue eyes practically boring a hole in the back of your head, and somehow mustering up the willpower to dodge his advances.

In the nearly three months since his arrival, Billy had managed to charm his way through at least a handful of girls, maybe more depending on which rumors you listen to, but you are determined not to fall for it, not to be just another notch on his bedpost.

Which would be a lot easier if he’d leave you the hell alone.

Flustered, you pull your knees up, tucking your chin over top of them as your arms wrap around your calves, silently rolling your eyes as Billy drops to the blue tumbling mat, rolling onto his back with a satisfied sigh, making it clear to you that he was here to stay.

“Why’re you here so early, anyway?” You question, glancing at your watch once more, “Basketball practice isn’t for, like, another half hour.”

“Had to drop my stupid step-sister off at some trash arcade,” he grunts, annoyed, “Didn’t wanna waste the gas to go all the way home, plus…,” he pauses, tilting his head to the side to slyly grin at you once more, “I figured I might get here early enough to catch the end of cheer practice.”

“Creep,” you scoff, much more playfully than you’d intended to.

The two of you fall into a, surprisingly, comfortable beat of silence. You let your eyes trail over Billy as his own droop shut, one arm propped behind his head as he lazes on the gym mat, jaw clenching every so often as he works the gum in his mouth. You start at his feet, taking in the faded black canvas material of his Converse before you let your eyes roam up his long, tanned, muscular legs. Finally, you reach the familiar dark green shade of his school-branded shorts and your eyes wander up the expanse of his stomach and chest, covered by the grey t-shirt he wears, the familiar eyes of Hawkins High’s tiger mascot staring blankly into your own.

You nearly gasp as your eyes trail up to his face again, only to find his steely eyes already looking at you, a knowing smirk etched into his face as you feel the apples of your cheeks flush.

“It’s rude to stare, princess,” Billy drawls, catching you red handed.

“And it’s not rude to perv on me stretching?”

“Never said it wasn’t,” he shrugs with a little chuckle, sitting up and resting one forearm on a bent knee. You merely roll your eyes as he studies you for a second, the blush on your cheeks deepening enough that you can feel the slight tingle of blood rushing under the surface.

“Whatever,” you sigh, shaking your head as you stretch your legs out in front of you again. You stretch forward again, letting out a breath as you grab at your ankles and try to ignore the way Billy sits up, propping his forearm up on a bent knee.

“Could you, like, put your legs behind your head and all that?”

“Probably,” you say with a little eye roll.

“Will you?”

“Not for you!”

The two of you carry on like that for a moment longer — you working through various stretches and familiar yoga poses as Billy seems overly curious about each one, questioning if you can twist into all kinds of poses.

“Can you do a handstand and do the splits?” He questions, grinning when you groan in frustration, eyes trailing up your long legs to the bottom of your short cheer skirt.

With a huff, you stand with one hand on your hip, the other pinching at the bridge of your nose as Billy’s incessant questions throw you off the silent count in your head again.

“Did you want something or are you just trying fuck me over?”

“Mmm, close, princess,” the blond teases, earning another glare from you. Playfully, he holds his hands up in surrender, “You’re single, aren’t you?” He asks, smirking triumphantly at the way you balk.

“I’m not talking about this with you, Hargrove.”

His smirk widens when you don’t deny it, blue eyes darkening as they travel over the length of your body once more. “Look, all I’m saying is that the guys talk in the locker room and… well, I can’t help but notice that your pretty name just doesn’t come up.”

“Maybe I have better things to do than put out for you assholes,” you smirk, quickly stretching out your problem shoulder before kneeling back on the tumbling mat, meaning to finish up with a couple quick pushups.

Undeterred, Billy merely matches your smirk with one of his own, watching as you kneel next to him. “Just come with me to Harrington’s Halloween party next weekend, sweetness,” he offers, his voice a low rumble, “Come on, a couple hours, some drinks. Hell, I’ll even dress up with you, whatever you want.”

“Hmm,” you hum, taking a second to tighten your ponytail as you shoot him a playful little smile, “Whatever I want, huh?”

“Name it,” he says lowly, watching appreciatively as you get on all fours.

“Okay, how about…,” you stall, drawing out your words as you extend your legs behind you, grunting softly as your shoulder zings with pain once more, “Willie and Indiana Jo– Ah!” You cut yourself off, exclaiming in pain as you land with a small thud on the mat, wincing.

“Whoa, hey,” Billy says softly, scrambling onto his knees, brows furrowed as he gingerly helps you roll over onto your back, “You okay?”

You nod, glancing away with a little embarrassed huff as you rub at your shoulder. “Yeah, it’s nothing. I just probably sprained it earlier during practice or something.”

“Lemme take a look at it,” he says, offering a hand to help you up.

Not expecting such chivalrous behavior from Hargrove of all people, you only nod dumbly and let him pull you up off the mat, chest heaving.

“Here,” he murmurs, gently nudging at your arm until you turn your back to him. You can hear the tumbling mat crinkle as he steps closer to you, the warmth from his chest practically radiating through his t-shirt as the spicy musk of his cologne seems to envelope you once again.

“You better not be using this as an excuse to feel me up,” you warn, albeit playfully, pulling your ponytail over the opposite shoulder.

“In your dreams,” he teases, goosebumps peppering your skin from the low way he says your name and from the gentle brush of his fingers over the back of your arm as they trail their way up to your shoulder.

He’s silent for a moment, carefully pressing warm, slightly rough fingers against your skin, watching until you wince just slightly when he pokes at your shoulder blade. “That’s where it hurts?”

“Mhm,” you nod, lips parting ever so slightly as he kneads around the area. You can practically feel him smirking when you sigh a moment later, his fingers working perfectly over the sore muscle as his other hand anchors itself at your hip, “You’re… actually, like, really good at this,” you murmur with a little laugh, needing to find some way to break the silence.

“My mom is – was, she was a masseuse, back when we lived in Cali,” Billy explains, leaning in closer, his lips all but brushing against your ear as he speaks softly, like he’s telling you some deep, dark secret, “I might’ve looked at one or two of her books.”

“Really?” You ask, brows furrowing as you turn your head to look at him over your shoulder.

“Sue me, I was thirteen and they had nudes in ‘em,” he chuckles, biting into his bottom lip when your breathy laugh morphs into a moan when he presses just right against your shoulder. The fingers of his other hand tighten on your hip as he pulls you back against him, his lips just barely grazing over the crook of your neck, “But I still picked up a thing or two.”

“Clearly,” you breathe, brows tugging together as you tilt your head to the side, an open invitation. The blond doesn’t need any more convincing and you let your eyes flutter shut as his lips descend upon your neck, pressing hot kisses against the sensitive skin.

The rise and fall of your chest grows shallow as the two of you seem to lose yourselves; you gasp as the hand on your hip trails down over your thigh, until Billy can drag the tips of his fingers beneath the white and gold hem of your pleated skirt just as the hand on your shoulder begins slowly moving around your ribs, to your front. Despite the AC units humming away, you can’t help but feel flush as he presses himself against you, already half-hard against the small of your back.

With a gasp, you jerk away from him at the sound of a door opening and closing in the hallway, muffled voices and laughter filtering in through the closed doors of the gym.

“Dammit,” Billy mumbles behind you as he quickly glances at the clock hanging above one of the exits, sighing disappointedly when he sees the time – fifteen minutes until practice.

Deciding to finally give in to the wants you’ve been harboring for months, you grab one of his hands and playfully bite your lip, nodding to one of the sets of gym doors, “Follow me.”

Smirking, he follows behind you as you quickly make your way to the doors, both of you pausing for a second to make sure the coast is clear before you bolt down the hallway. A second later, you’re pushing Billy through a door into a random classroom.

“This is the old Health room,” you explain, gasping as he turns and presses you against the old door, the metal of it cool against your back as you quickly scan over the empty room, dim other than the early evening light spilling in through the thin slats of the blinds, “No one ever comes in here.”

“Uh huh, fascinating,” he nods, turning his head to spit his gum into a small trash can by the door, before eagerly pressing his lips to yours. He smirks into the kiss as you mewl, his lips parting to quickly swallow the sweet sounds you make.

Always one to give as good as you get, your lips move against his just as fervently, both of your hands trailing up underneath his t-shirt as you rub over his stomach, muscles taut under your touch. His tongue slips into your mouth in the same second he presses against you, his thin gym shorts doing nothing to conceal the hardness of his length as it presses against your lower stomach.

You arch into his touch as his hands cup your breasts through your uniform, a low growl rumbling through his chest as you rake your nails over his chest and down his stomach. Boldly, you reach down and palm at his cock, savoring the surprised grunt he lets out before you quickly nudge your hand down the front of his shorts and into his boxers.

“Shit,” he breathes, one hand still kneading at your breast as the other skates back up your thigh, his forehead resting against yours. Biting your lip, you watch through hooded eyes as you experimentally stroke over his cock, marveling at how hard he already is, like velvet over steel.

Just as you feel him twitch in your grasp, the blond pulls away from you with a teasing grin and presses one last kiss against your lips before tapping the back of your thighs, urging you to jump.

“Fuck, there you go,” Billy rasps, fingers digging into the curve of your ass as you clamber up into his arms, your shoulder only barely smarting as you wrap your arms around his neck. “I gotcha,” his muscular biceps flex as he quickly walks a few feet from the door and deposits on you on top of the, thankfully barren, teacher’s desk pushed haphazardly into the corner.

“Billy,” you sigh, the sound being practically pushed from your lungs as he presses himself back between your thighs, cheer skirt rumbled around your waist as he all but folds you in half – your hands cling to his shirt desperately, one leg wrapped securely around his hip as the other ends up slung nearly over his shoulder.

“Yeah, princess?” He taunts with a wolfish grin, smirking at the way the muscles of your thigh twitch as his fingers move toward your pussy, hardly hidden beneath your boyshorts. You all but levitate off the desk as two of his fingers swipe over your slit, the apples of your cheeks flushing when he chuckles triumphantly, the thin cotton doing nothing to hide how wet you are. “Finally gonna give me what I want?”

You can feel your ponytail bobbing wildly at the crown of your head when you nod, a whiny moan blooming from your lips when he moves his fingers in tight circles against your clit, the flimsy material of your underwear quickly dampening against his touch.

“Yeah, yeah, Billy,” your hands tremble as you pull at his t-shirt, desperate for what you’ve been wanting for so long, “C’mon, please!”

“Easy, tiger,” he laughs, tongue running over his bottom lip as he easily tugs his shirt over his head, your own hands scrambling to push down your boyshorts. Taking mercy on you yet again, he helps you, eagerly tugging the white cotton down your legs. He damn near tears them in two as he pushes your underwear over one sneaker, letting them dangle from your ankle.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, crowding against you again as you lean back on the desk, propped up on your elbows. You stare up at him, lips parted, as he all but folds you in half, warm hands pressing against the backs of your thighs, “Fucking leaking and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Oh!” You hiss, trying your hardest to keep your voice down, head thudding back against the desk as Billy quickly tugs his shorts down, just enough to get his cock out, and teasingly runs it through your folds, “Billy, oh my God, just do it!” You all but beg, teeth biting into your bottom lip at the wet sounds of him moving against you, deafeningly loud in the otherwise quiet room.

Were you anywhere else, Billy would have absolutely no qualms about teasing you to within an inch of your life – payback for playing cat and mouse with him for almost three months straight. Lucky for you, he’s just as nervous at the thought of getting caught with his pants down as you are, shuddering to think what Neil would do if he got expelled over this.

With a barely contained growl, he pushes into you, his cock sliding easily to the hilt with how wet you are. Your back arches off the desk as he slides home, stretching you beautifully as he fills you completely.

“Oh – oh my God,” you breathe as he stills, giving you a few seconds to adjust. Your hands scramble over the smooth top of the desk before you grab onto his wrists as his hands hook behind your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groans – the way he grumbles your name makes your walls clench around his length, punching another grunt from his chest as he starts shallowly thrusting against you, grinding his hips against yours.

The two of you dissolve into a flurry of breathy mewls and sighs, each of you desperately trying to keep quiet as the muffled sounds of skin against skin and the dull creaking of the desk fill the room. Your eyelids flutter as you watch Billy above you, golden curls bouncing with each of his thrusts as a light sheen of sweat covers his tanned chest.

Grunting lowly, he presses harder against the backs of your thighs, practically pressing your kneecaps against the desk below you, blue eyes sparkling as you easily follow his movements. With the small change in angles, the head of his cock thrusts perfectly against that sensitive spot within you, and he grins triumphantly as you tremble beneath him.

“That the spot, princess?” He questions, smirking when you nod your head with a little broken squeak, “Fuck, I can’t wait to get you in a bed – bet you can bend in all kinds of pretty ways, huh?”

“Y-Yeah, yeah, Billy,” you agree, willing to agree to just about anything as long as he keeps moving. You can hardly contain the moans spilling from your lips as he works you higher and higher, the adrenaline from the possibility of getting caught as well as the rush of finally having him making you rush toward your end faster than you normally would.

Breathing heavily as your pussy clenches at his cock, he lets go of one of your thighs and shoves your shirt up, unceremoniously taking your bra with it. You bite at the back of one hand as he teases at your breasts, using one hand to pinch and pull at one nipple before moving to the other as he stares down at you with half-lidded eyes, brows furrowed in concentration.

“O-Oh, my – fuck, I’m –” You moan brokenly, squirming beneath him as you feel yourself nearing the edge, teeth biting desperately into your bottom lip as you claw at his forearm and waist.

Cockily licking over his lips, Billy leans forward as he grinds against you, his hips putting pressure on your clit as he covers your mouth with one hand, propping himself up against the desk with an elbow as his other still grasps at the back of your knee.

You squeeze him tightly as the tail end of his happy trail rubs deliciously over you, giving you just enough stimulation to throw you over the edge.

“Yeah, princess,” he encourages, grunting with nearly every thrust into you as he feels you clenching around him, pushing him further and further toward his own edge as he clenches his jaw, determined to hang on as long as possible.

After only a few more thrusts, he quickly pulls out with a small groan. “Fuck, fuck,” he pants, chest heaving as he strokes his cock, painting your lower belly with stripes of his release.

Both of you still for a moment, breathing heavily as you each come down. Half expecting Billy to simply get dressed again and leave, you’re surprised when he softly kisses you, more relaxed this time, as his warm breath fans over your cheek. Dazedly, you kiss him back, your lips moving together unhurriedly as you card your fingers through the sweat-damp curls at the nape of his neck.

After a moment, you part and your lips quirk up into a shy smile as he moves back half a step, giving you enough room to sit up.

“Oh, uh,” you breathe, looking down when you feel his cum cooling against your skin. Glancing around the room, you pout a little when you don’t see any tissues or paper towels, “There’s paper towels in the locker room?” You offer, looking over at Billy, watching as he quickly tugs his shorts back into place.

“I got it,” he says with a small smirk and before you have time to question what he means, he quickly tugs your underwear off your ankle and uses them to wipe at your skin, grinning meanly when you look up at him with wide eyes.

“Jackass!” You exclaim, laughing softly despite yourself, “That’s the only pair I have with me!”

“Nothing wrong with going commando, sweetness,” he says with a wink, chuckling when you wrinkle your nose at the thought while you pull your bra and shirt back into place, “Come back to my place and I’ll was ‘em for you, my parents don’t get back until late, anyway.”

“You just want a round two,” you laugh, hopping off the desk and straightening out your skirt the best you can before running your hands over your hair, trying to smooth out your ponytail.

“Told you I was gonna fold you up all pretty,” Billy smirks, crowding against you yet again once he tugs his shirt back on and lightly grasping at your jaw, “Something tells me you won’t have a problem with that either.”

“That’s presumptuous, don’t you think?”

“Sure, yeah, I dunno what that means, princess,” he says, grinning when you laugh, your hands pressed against his chest as he quickly tucks your boyshorts into the waistband of his shorts, “Just come back to my place, hm?”

“What about basketball practice? Jason hates when people ditch.”

“You really think I give a shit about what Carver wants?” Billy laughs, taking one of your hands in his as he makes his way toward the door.

“Okay, okay, fine,” you finally agree, rolling your eyes playfully as you let him pull you out into the hall.

“And come with me to the Halloween party?”

“You have quite a list of demands, Hargrove.”

“Hey,” he says with a little shrug, glancing at you as you walk side by side toward the locker rooms, “That’s what you get for teasing me.”

You merely giggle as the two of you round a corner, nearly freezing and nervously glancing over at Billy when you come across Steve, chest heaving as he leans over a water fountain.

Standing straight, he wipes at his lips with the back of his hand, narrowing his eyes at Billy, watching as he quickly scoops up his duffle bag from where he’d tossed it down earlier in the hallway. “Dude, why’re you leaving? You’re almost, like, half an hour late for practice.”

“Yeah, well, tell Carver something came up,” the blond boy huffs dismissively before taking your hand once more. You shoot a bashful smile at Steve, blushing as you and Billy walk toward the doors out to the parking lot.

Behind you, Steve takes a minute to connect the dots, brows furrowing as he plants his hands on his hips. After a second, his eyes widen and he shakes his head.

“Come on, at school?” He calls down the hallway, shaking his head as you and Billy laugh, “Fucking animals, man.”

gen tags: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @wickedfrsgrl @echos-muses @imawhorecrux @avidreader73 @marvelescape @rae-11 @ms-morningstarr @chaotic-fangirl-blog @grsveeth0m @twglitching @hb8301 @delulumhaggy @burntliquorlips @fan-goddess @cl-0-vr @kittendoll05 @beautbuck @eponaartemisa @trshngyn @brettlovessuckingcocks @alerisc @moonriseoverkyoto @wolfdressedinlace @do-double-g @kennafild @cruelworldlana @mheraxes @eternallyvenus @chaotic-fangirl-blog @simp-hub-bro @badxbabyyy @venchi-cremino

(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)

#my writing #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove fanfic #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things smut #dacre montgomery #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #smut

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starkwlkr · 2 months ago

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girl, so confusing part ii | f1

an: thanks for all the love and support on part 1! here’s part 2 💋 THIS IS AN AU WHERE ALL THE F1 DILFS ARE SINGLE

part 1 part 3

faceclaim: gisele bündchen

DINNER WITH MARK

“How is my girl?” Mark asked as he placed his beer on the table after taking a sip.

“She’s good. She passed her math test and her recital is coming up so she’s very excited for that.” Y/n replied. She always loved talking about her daughter, Gemma.

“Will you let me know when it is? I want to make sure I’m free that day.” Mark said.

“Sure, she’ll love that you’re there.” The former driver reached into her purse and pulled out her lipgloss. It had been the same brand and scent from the same day she had kissed Mark in her garage, Mark took notice of that. She began applying it easily using her front camera as a mirror.

“You and your cherry lipgloss.” Mark chuckled.

“I don’t see you complaining whenever these lips give you kisses.” Y/n smirked, placing the tube of lipgloss back in her purse.

“They are the best kisses I’ve ever had.” Mark told her.

“Funny, Jenson and Seb told me the same thing.”

“Such a comedian,” Mark playfully rolled his eyes at her response. “What are you doing tomorrow? Let me take you and Gem out. She mentioned she wanted to go roller skating.”

“Sorry, Mark, Jenson is coming over. Gemma wants to bake him a cake for his birthday. You’re welcome to join us, Gem and Jenson won’t mind.” Y/n apologized. It had been weeks since Gemma saw Jenson and she missed him dearly.

Mark shook his head, not wanting to interfere between Gemma and Jenson. “It’s alright. Just let me know when her recital is.”

“Yeah . . .” Y/n noticed how quiet Mark had gotten so she leaned over the table and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. As she sat back down in her chair, a text message from a blonde German had appeared on her phone screen.

Sebastian

When can I see you and Gemma again?

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber x reader #sebastian vettel x reader #jenson button x reader #f1 driver!reader

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xo100 · 5 months ago

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Unwrapped feelings - LN4

*:･ﾟ Summary: At their birthday celebration, you feel upset when none of the gifts are for you. Lando reassures her of his love, making her feel cherished despite the oversight.

*:･ﾟ Word count: 1494

୨ৎ

Lando Norris was the sun in her life, a constant, warm presence that filled her days with joy. She loved him deeply, and after three years of dating, her heart still fluttered when he looked at her the way he did. They were each other's best friends, sharing everything from their quiet nights at home to the busy life he led as a Formula 1 driver. Lando loved her, too. There was no question about that. He made sure to remind her with every touch, every soft kiss, and every whispered word when they were alone. But no matter how much love existed between them, there was a silent, looming cloud that she tried so hard not to notice. His friends.

They never liked her, and she couldn’t quite understand why. She wasn’t arrogant or boastful. In fact, she was quite the opposite—introverted, sweet, and often quiet, especially around large groups. She wasn't overly outgoing or dramatic, and she certainly wasn’t trying to steal Lando away from his friends. But still, whenever they were together with his friends or the rest of the team, she could feel their subtle distance. The sideways glances when she spoke, the quick change of conversation when she joined a group—it all added up.

It wasn’t as though she had never tried to bridge the gap, either. Early in their relationship, she had gone out of her way to be friendly, to make conversation, and to show interest in their lives. But the more she tried, the more it felt like she was only getting further away from them. Over time, she stopped trying so hard, and she retreated back into the quiet comfort of just being by Lando’s side. After all, he was the one she loved. As long as they were okay, nothing else should matter, right?

But it did. Even if she wouldn’t admit it out loud, it hurt that the people closest to Lando—the ones he spent so much of his life with—didn’t seem to care for her. And that quiet hurt always seemed to linger at the back of her mind.

This weekend, however, was supposed to be special. A day for both of them, a moment to celebrate not only Lando’s birthday but hers as well. The idea to celebrate their birthdays together was something Lando had insisted on. They were only a few days apart, and since Lando had such a busy schedule, he suggested one big party where they could celebrate together. He even offered to host it at the McLaren Technology Centre, a place he called home and wanted to share with her.

“Everyone will be there,” he had said, his excitement bubbling over. “My friends, the team, some of the drivers. It'll be great!”

She had nodded with a smile, her heart hopeful that maybe this would be a chance to connect with everyone on a different level, in a more relaxed and festive atmosphere. Her own friends, though invited, couldn’t make the trip to England, and while she understood, she couldn’t help but feel a little bit lonely knowing she wouldn’t have her usual support system there. Still, this was about Lando too, and she wanted to focus on making sure he had the best time.

The night of the party had been a whirlwind. Lando was glowing, his energy infectious as he mingled with everyone, laughing and sharing stories. She stayed by his side for most of the night, smiling softly at his friends and the team members who came over to greet him, though she noticed the conversations were always directed toward him and never her. It stung, but she pushed the feelings aside. Tonight was supposed to be fun.

After hours of laughter, music, and food, the party wound down, and as the guests began to leave, Lando took her hand, guiding her toward a large table piled high with presents.

“Look at all this,” he grinned, his eyes twinkling as he took in the sight. “I think we’re going to need all day tomorrow to open them.”

She chuckled softly, nodding in agreement. There were a lot of gifts, far more than she had expected. She didn’t think either of them would need much, but it was still heartwarming to see how much effort people had put into celebrating them.

Or so she thought.

The next day, after a lazy morning spent in bed, they finally sat down to open the gifts. Lando was practically buzzing with excitement, while she was content to sit beside him, happy to enjoy the moment with him.

The first few presents were exactly what she had expected—personalized items for Lando. Some McLaren-themed memorabilia, a few playful gag gifts from his friends, and even a sleek, custom helmet from one of the drivers. She watched with a soft smile as he unwrapped each one, his grin widening with every thoughtful present.

But as more and more gifts were opened, a realization slowly started to creep in. Every single present was for Lando.

She tried not to let it bother her at first. After all, Lando was the one who had more friends here, the one with the larger circle. It made sense that most of the gifts would be for him. But as the pile grew smaller and not a single gift was addressed to her, the hurt became harder to ignore.

There wasn’t a single present for her.

Not one.

By the time they reached the last box, she felt her heart sink. She had tried to stay positive, tried to convince herself that maybe someone had forgotten to label a gift, or maybe they’d gotten mixed up in the rush of the party. But no. Every gift had been intentionally for Lando, and her name hadn’t even been a second thought.

“Wow,” Lando breathed as he looked at the collection of gifts surrounding them. “That was… that was a lot.”

She nodded quietly, trying to keep her smile in place. Her hands fiddled with the ribbon from one of the opened boxes, trying to distract herself from the growing ache in her chest.

“Hey,” Lando said softly, noticing her quietness. “You okay?”

She glanced up at him, his blue eyes filled with concern. She could see how much he cared, how much he genuinely wanted to make sure she was happy. It wasn’t his fault that his friends had overlooked her. It wasn’t his fault that she felt so out of place among them.

“Yeah,” she whispered, forcing a smile. “I’m fine. I’m just… happy for you. You got so many cool things.”

He frowned, clearly not convinced by her answer. “But you didn’t get anything.”

Her stomach twisted, and she hated that she was the one bringing down the mood. “It’s okay, Lando. Really. Today was for both of us, but I know how important you are to them. It’s fine.”

But it wasn’t fine, and he could tell. His brows furrowed as he scooted closer to her, taking her hand in his.

“Hey,” he murmured softly, lifting her chin so she would look at him. “It’s not fine if you’re upset. You’re important too. To me.”

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she blinked them away. She didn’t want to cry, not over something as silly as gifts. But the hurt wasn’t just about the presents. It was about everything—the way his friends never really accepted her, the way she always felt like an outsider in his world.

“I just…” She swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “I just feel like they don’t see me. Like I don’t belong here. I know I’m not outgoing or loud or… like them. But I try, and it never seems like it’s enough.”

Lando’s expression softened, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair. “I didn’t realize how much this was affecting you. But I promise, you do belong. You belong with me.”

His words were warm and comforting, but they didn’t erase the ache entirely. Still, being in his arms made her feel a little better. She rested her head against his chest, taking in the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.

“You’re the most important person to me,” he continued, his voice gentle but firm. “And if my friends can’t see how amazing you are, then that’s their loss. I love you, and that’s what matters.”

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with love for him. Lando always knew how to make her feel better, even when the world around them felt like it was crumbling.

“I love you too,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in each other’s warmth. The gifts, the party, the friends—they all faded into the background as Lando held her close, reminding her that she was loved. And in that moment, that was enough.

୨ৎ

*:･ﾟ Notes; thank you for reading, love’s! Hope you all enjoyed it. If there is something wrong or need to be edited, let me know!

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thoughtfulfiction · 2 months ago

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Shift in the Routine II

Thank you so much for the love on part 1! Hope this one gives you all the feels. Joe requests are open!

masterlist

“Can you just…tell me exactly what happened?From the beginning.”

You sigh, running a hand over your face, thinking about the various ups and downs you’d been through emotionally the last few days. “There’s nothing new to tell, I told him I need to think about things and he was supportive of that. He really hurt me Rach, I can’t just—forget about it and move on.”

“I completely understand where you’re coming from. It’s just,” she pauses, trying to find the words. “What about—”

“The game on Monday night? Under no circumstances am I watching that,” you promise her, crossing your arms in protest of what was expected of you.

“Bengals defense missing a tackle? Likely place for them to be. This game is going to give me an ulcer.” You slammed your drink on the table, putting your head in your hands in hopes that they’d get a stop if you looked away for a bit.

Rachel watched silently, still trying to understand the rules of this football thing. She found you more entertaining than the game most of the time.

“Oh my god, how many times are we going to go for it on fourth and short and not convert?” This season had been full of trying moments, forcing you think back on the few times you snuck in to catch a peak of what Joe was seeing on film when these things would happen.

“FACEMASK?” You yell. “There’s no way in the world they just miss that? Hello? They’re literally trying to rip his head off, that should’ve been a first dow—wait,” you pause, standing up out of your seat for the first time in a few hours. “Is he…is he limping? He’s limping, right?”

Rachel sits up, joining in your concern but also slightly amused at the situation, considering the fact that you said you weren’t going to watch the game and the two of you had been glued to the tv before kickoff. “No matter how much you don’t want to admit it to anyone, including yourself, you still care about him. A lot.”

“I do care,” you swallowed, feeling like your heart was in your stomach at the thought of being in pain. That sleeve didn’t look like it was going to protect anything. “Maybe I care a little too much? Which is exactly why I’m in this predicament. Because let’s be real, on paper? We do not make sense. He doesn’t even flinch spending $3 million and I cry a little if I add too many things to my Amazon cart.”

Rachel laughs, tossing a few pieces of Chex mix into her mouth. “That’s because your job is stingy with raises. And with Joe? Just talk to him. Go see him tomorrow, give him his gift and go from there, see how you feel about everything.”

You admired her ability to put a positive spin on a situation that you felt was pretty much doomed. Maybe you could have one more day of happiness with him tomorrow before walking away for good. That may be your best bet, to just cut all communication and quit cold turkey. After his birthday of course. Dumping someone before their birthday just sounded really terrible and you’d spent a long time getting him this special present so there was no way you weren’t going to see the look on his face in person as he opened it.

The drive felt uncomfortably long. They had gotten a much needed win and he seemed happy enough postgame. But what if he didn’t want to see you? You’d been so focused inward on your feelings and what you needed to do that you really hadn’t had the time to even wonder what Joe’s thought process was. Just in case he wasn’t in the mood for company, you knocked on the door instead of letting yourself in.

Clad in a purple Nike hoodie you remembered borrowing a few times, there he stood in front of you with a blank look on his face.

Solid start.

“Why did you knock? You could’ve just come in.” His hair looks extra fluffy, like he woke up not too long ago, taking it extremely easy after coming home late and taking quite a few hits in last night’s game.

You pushed down the nerves, determined to make today neither awkward nor painful for all parties involved. “Happy birthday. I brought your favorite smoothie from Rune and…did a package come in this morning?”

He thanks you, grabbing the drink out of your hand and closing the door behind you. You can tell he’s moving gingerly. “Yeah I had them put it in the garage. So…are we still—”

“In relationship limbo? Definitely. But today is your day and I’m not a monster,” you joke as a smile forms on his face. And I wanted to see you for myself to make sure you weren’t going to lie. How’s your knee?”

Joe looks at you affectionately, almost visibly resisting the urge to reach out to you. His first instinct was always to give you a comforting squeeze or a gentle hand on your shoulder as a form of reassurance, he just wasn’t sure if that would be appropriate given the circumstances.“Careful, it almost sounded like you were worried about me for a second there.”

“I do not care about you. I care about my favorite football team’s starting quarterback and his well being for the rest of the season. That’s all. Don’t read too much into it.” You were lying through your teeth and both of you knew it.

He nods slightly, catching you looking at his leg or any sign of pain in his face if he so much as leaned over the counter. And if you still had a soft spot for him somewhere in there that was enough. “I feel ok. It’s sore but it’s Tuesday and the day after games is always touch and go. You know that.”

You quickly learned just how exhausting some postgame days were. His body bruised easily so sometimes he looked like he’d honestly been in a fight of some kind. And lost…badly. Moving around was slow and painful as if he were closer to being put in a retirement home than he was to playing another bruising game the next week. But the next day was usually back to normal and you were always in awe at his ability to bounce back. Having everything laid out in front of you like this made it easy to understand why he had such a strict schedule. Eating and sleeping and everything in between were catered to help him recover.

“Are you ready to open your gift?”

Joe sighs, stating that he doesn’t need more presents but you give him a look and he knows it’s best to just follow you to the garage. “I didn’t realize how big this is,” he notes, a hint of apprehension in his voice, “you really didn’t have to get me anything.”

He runs his fingers along the top of wrapping, deep in thought for a few seconds before you urge him to open it. Carefully peeling back the paper, Joe pulls back the layers to reveal a one of a kind Seinfeld painting.

“Before you say anything, look at the back,” you tell him when he looks at you like he’s about to open his mouth. On the back is a handwritten note from Jerry Seinfeld himself. Joe’s jaw actually drops and he’s rendered speechless, silently rereading the words over and over. “It goes great with the pants, that I somehow knew you’d be wearing today. How predictable.”

He shrugs and looks down at the well worn blue pants, trying and failing to hide his smirk. “What can I say?”

“That you’re a millionaire who’s also a serial outfit repeater? What would Anna Wintour say if she could see you now?”

“She’d probably say that I pull off the lazy look very well,” he retorts with a laugh. Looking back at the painting and then at you, Joe feels a rush of emotion threatening to overwhelm him. He had no idea how you got this but he’s sure it took a long time and you went to great lengths to make it possible, to make him happy. “Thank you,” he whispers, suddenly not trusting his voice.

You find yourself in his arms before you even register that your body has moved, clinging onto him like your life depends on it. Part of you wanted to stay, be in this moment and let yourself fall back into the routine of a grueling season with the person who clearly brought you an immense joy unlike anything you’d ever experienced. Joe was your peace, your picnic on a sunny day and it was scary to see how easily the two of you hadn’t missed a beat, teasing each other and talking like lifelong friends who could read each other like a book. The thing that was breaking your heart the most is that Joe had become your best friend, the one you could talk to about any and everything while simultaneously making your heart beat out of your chest at the effortless romance that came from this playful and unexpected connection.

But was that really enough? When you gave his body one more squeeze before stepping back, Joe couldn’t help the awful thought going through his mind that this could be the last hug. Not wanting to tear himself away from the embrace, he awkwardly and very hesitantly lets you go, standing alone in the garage after you wish him happy birthday again and leave. All that progress he’s thought the two of you had just made was out the door and he was stuck with the coolest gift he’d ever received and a sense of emptiness inside him that only you could fill.

The next day in the facility he was locked in. Focused solely on football from the moment he walked in, went through walkthrough as he tried to avoid the Hard Knocks crew and conducted his weekly press conference like it was another day. Only after he got in the car did he allow himself to really acknowledge that he was missing you. Yesterday was supposed to have helped and it did, but it also just made him realize that life was just better with you around and he couldn’t keep letting you walk away.

He’d admittedly been quiet last night at dinner with his parents and when they asked if he was okay he just told them that the season was weighing on him a bit, not exactly ready to divulge the fact that he was seeing someone and had potentially ruined it all in the same breath. That may result in too many questions he wasn’t ready to answer. So he scheduled time to speak with the one person he could always turn to for guidance and perspective.

And 24 hours later, as soon as he walked in the door, he set his stuff down and went upstairs to his room for an emergency Zoom meeting with his therapist. After the session was over and he had a moment to think, he pondered his therapist’s words urging him to think about one defining moment that encapsulates your relationship to guide him in his next steps.

The two of you had finished eating dinner during the bye week on the couch. Sushi boxes were discarded on the table as you forced him to watch some cooking show. You slid your feet under his leg, desperately searching for warmth in places where the blanket just wasn’t enough.

“Your feet cold again?” You nod. “Babe, you might have circulation issues or something, should probably get that checked out,” he grins, lifting himself up so he can grab your legs and put them in his lap. His touch instantly brings heat to your limbs, shooing away the frigid air and replacing it with a soft glow that you’re pretty sure has surrounded you since you and Joe made things official.

Once you’ve warmed up enough you cross over to the other side of the couch to wrap yourself up in him, as close as you possibly can. Nights like this feel like his own little peace of heaven, your arm resting casually on his chest and your bodies practically glued to each other, becoming one simultaneous heartbeat. He presses a lingering kiss to the top of your head, laying there in complete bliss, all of worries about football, the team and their season out the window for a bit. The weight of carrying a franchise is easily lifted when you’re around, keeping his feet on the ground in times when he would have his head in the clouds. For one second everything makes sense and it’s perfect…until it hits him square in the chest.

He’s in love.

Joe comes back to himself, snapping out of that bye week memory wiping a tear that he hadn’t realize was coming down his face. His heart tightens at recognizing why he’d lashed out at you and said those horrible things. It wasn’t football stress at all. It was fear driving him, he reverted back to the person he was trying to work on. And instead of being honest, he’d built an emotional wall around himself disguised as work stress to keep himself from saying those three words at a time he thought could be too soon for the two of you and scare you off. Because it was definitely terrifying him, even if he felt it. And now he may have lost you as a result of his actions.

On Friday, he actually looked forward to enjoy the off day, after he got his morning workout in at the facility. And then you texted him to tell him you were walking into the house.

You looked nervous and he didn’t like it. “Is this a bad time?” He shakes his head no, unsure if he wants to do this right now. The quarterback was really regretting coming home right about now. Being at the stadium watching the guys play golf would’ve been a much faster but still painful death. This was just torture.

“I’ve been thinking…a lot. And,” you take in a deep breath, hoping that filling your lungs with lots of air can make what you have to say a bit easier.

Joe pales, thinking that you’ve put off breaking up with him because of his birthday. He wants to brace himself for impact. He should respect your wishes, whether he agrees or not, but you both know he isn’t one to go down without a fight. “Before you dump me, I just—I have to tell you how sorry I am. You bulldozed through my life like freight train with your royalty jokes and your horrible day and I knew I needed more. Wanted to know everything about you. But I’m not great at this. Emotions aren’t easy to talk about and I usually pride myself on not showing them and you’ve brought them out of me. So when things got a little too real, I shut down. You’re one of the greatest things in my life but I really messed it up.”

“Joe…” you say quietly, begging the tears not to come.

He stops you, “if I don’t get this out, I might not get another chance. I’m sorry for making you feel like I don’t want to be around you when the truth is that sometimes it’s all I want. You mentioned schedules and—and routines. Nowhere in my plans did it include falling for someone this soon and I pushed you away because I was scared, not because you’re a distraction but because—being with you makes me have to admit that the things I feel for you aren’t like anything I’ve ever felt before. I’m sorry I hurt you in the midst of realizing that.”

You look at him, trying to memorize every one of his features. The natural bags under his eyes are a bit more pronounced, a slight glimmer in his ocean eyes give away all of the emotions written on his face. He looks devastated, a look all too familiar to you since you and the entire country have seen him look dejected and defeated several times throughout the season. But there’s something more distressing hidden behind his gaze. An indescribable amount of worry etched across his features.

Joe looks…heartbroken.

The honesty and raw intensity of his words are almost enough to render you speechless, but you came here for a reason.

You clear your throat before you speak, biting back your own emotions. “Joseph I’m not breaking up with you. Believe me, I wanted to and I thought about all the reasons why maybe I should. Because I don’t think I’m built for this life,” you look down at your feet, heaving out another breath before looking up at him and holding out your hand for him to hold.

“None of this is easy and sometimes, yeah I doubt myself. And you are very moody for like half the year. But there’s nowhere else I want to be and no one else I’d rather be with. Through the honeymoon phase or 60 years from now when when we’re senile and yelling at each other about the tv remote. Mostly me yelling you staring angrily but—as long as we’re together, I really don’t care. What I’m saying is…I don’t want easy. I want you.”

The tension in his shoulders is released almost immediately. “So you’re saying you’re stuck with me?” He laughs, a sense of relief taking over him. “And you aren’t just saying that because you haven’t had Boca in almost two weeks, right?”

“Your ability to get me their Maple Mascarpone Cheesecake whenever I want is not the main reason why I love you. That’s just one of many.”

You take a second to realize what you just said, opening and closing your mouth a few times but no words are coming out.

Joe’s smiling so big his face is starting to hurt. “You just said you love me.”

Tilting your head to look at him, laughing a little. You can’t believe you let it slip out like that. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Say it again,” he says softly, squeezing your hand and taking a few steps toward you.

You shake your head, one of your hands finding their way into his hair as you pull him in.

The man’s breath hitches as he melts into your touch, the kiss slowly putting him back together, free from all the anxious energy he’d put aside as a defense mechanism. “Joseph, I love you. I love you. I love you.”

The sound of your words radiate against his lips, sending a never ending shiver down his spine.

"I love you too,” he utters with such sweetness you feel like your heart is exploding. “And I missed you.”

He leans in and pours two weeks of apologies and love into the kiss and after all this time of not being close to him, you never want to let him go again. You eventually do separate, only because you need air, and giggle at the fact that you actually still haven’t let each other go. With your fingers intertwined, you lead him upstairs. “Do you need help packing?” Joe steals another quick peck, whispering yes because he’s not letting you out of his sight until it’s time for him to leave tomorrow.

None of this was part of the plan but now that your soul has found its match, you really don’t have a choice but to dive in.

#Joe burrow #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic

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meleeyz · 2 months ago

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୭ 𝗔𝗨𝗡𝗧 𝗣𝗢𝗪𝗗𝗘𝗥 ˚. ᵎᵎ

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ God, Wyeth and Violet are my precious babies, I'm excited to write the next chapter 😼 THIS IS A BIT OF ANGST BUT I PROMISE I WILL MAKE UP FOR IT, THE NEXT CHAPTER COMES OUT TOMORROW 😓

୨୧ THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE SUPPORT, IT MEANS A LOT TO ME

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Ekko stepped out of The Last Drop alongside you, his mind a tangled mess of emotions he didn’t know how to untangle.

“See you tomorrow, Silco,” you called over your shoulder, waving at the man. “And tell Vander not to forget the balloons this time. It’s Violet’s party, after all!”

Silco chuckled, his sharp features softened by a surprising warmth.

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t disappoint. Powder would never let me hear the end of it.”

Ekko opened his mouth to comment on the absurdity of those words—Silco and birthday parties didn’t belong in the same sentence—but before he could speak, you grabbed Wyeth’s hand, ready to lead him down the street, and before Ekko could even process what he’d just witnessed, his son slipped his small fingers into his free hand.

“Let’s go, Dad!” Wyeth said with a grin, swinging their joined hands as they walked.

The simple gesture made Ekko’s chest tighten. It felt so normal. So… good. And yet, it brought a pang of sadness that he couldn’t shake. How much had he missed? The thought gnawed at him.

Wyeth glanced up, his expression turning sly.

“You think Mom will forget I’m grounded if I say she’s pretty?”

Your laughter drifted back toward them as you approached a street vendor, completely oblivious to your son’s plotting.

Ekko didn’t respond. He barely heard the boy’s words, his mind too busy grappling with the strange reality around him. Wyeth looked so grown, his bright smile and curious eyes a reminder of everything Ekko had never gotten to see. He’d been there for Wyeth’s first steps, first words, first everything… hadn’t he?

“Dad?”

Wyeth’s voice snapped Ekko out of his thoughts. The boy tilted his head again, mirroring the gesture that so often punctuated your own confusion.

“Why’re you looking at me like that? I didn’t even do anything yet.”

A sheepish laugh escaped Ekko.

“Nothing, kiddo. Just thinking.”

Wyeth raised a brow, unimpressed by the weak excuse, but before he could press further, his attention shifted.

“Mom! Aunt Powder’s place is up there!” he shouted.

Ekko followed his gaze, his stomach tightening at the sight of the towering structure ahead. The entrance was unmistakably Powder’s handiwork—vivid, colorful, and chaotically creative.

Your arm slipped through Ekko’s as you stepped closer to him, your head resting lightly against his shoulder. The gesture was effortless, familiar, and it sent an odd pang through him. It wasn’t just something you would’ve done in his world—it was something you had done countless times before.

Powder’s hideout loomed closer, and the knot in Ekko’s stomach tightened. Memories of his childhood flooded his mind—Powder laughing as she tinkered with one of her bombs, her face lighting up when she succeeded. But those memories felt so far away, belonging to someone who no longer existed.

“Aunt Powder!” Wyeth called, his voice echoing through the space as he dashed ahead.

Powder sat on the floor, her back turned to them. She was hunched over something, her shoulders swaying slightly. Ekko froze in the doorway, his feet unwilling to take another step.

She turned slowly, and Ekko’s breath caught. In her arms was a baby.

The child couldn’t have been older than a year, her curly white hair catching the light. Her skin was a shade darker than Wyeth’s, but her eyes—Ekko’s heart skipped a beat—her eyes were undeniably yours.

He stared, dumbfounded. It was as if the Ekko of this world had decided to create smaller versions of himself just for the hell of it.

“Powder!” You hurried past Ekko, reaching for the baby. Powder smiled and handed her over without hesitation.

“There’s my little Violet,” you cooed, lifting the baby into the air before kissing her cheek. Violet giggled, her chubby hands patting your face with affection.

Ekko barely registered the interaction, his focus drawn to a small shrine tucked away in the corner of the room. It was simple but striking—candles flickered in a soft circle of light, surrounding scattered trinkets and flowers.

His stomach dropped when he saw the pictures.

Vi’s pictures.

There was no mistaking her sharp features, her trademark smirk immortalized. The realization hit Ekko like a freight train.

He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t thought a world so perfect could still hold such grief. The weight of it settled on him, twisting his heart in ways he couldn’t describe.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s small voice pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts. The boy’s wide eyes were filled with concern as he tugged on Ekko’s sleeve. “What’s wrong?”

You turned at the question, your gaze sharpening when you saw Ekko’s expression.

“Wyeth, why don’t you go play for a bit?” you said gently, brushing a hand over his hair.

The boy frowned.

“But I—”

“Please,” you said, your tone soft but firm.

Wyeth hesitated, then sighed dramatically before go.

Ekko's breath coming shallow as he struggled to make sense of what he was seeing. Little Violet, with her bright eyes and curly white hair, cooed in your arms as you rocked her gently. You gave Ekko a pointed look and gestured to the spot beside you on the worn couch. Ekko moved mechanically, lowering himself onto the worn cushion, his legs feeling like lead.

His voice broke the silence, hoarse and uncertain.

“She’s... dead?”

Powder, seated besides from him, shifted uncomfortably, her face tightening.

“That’s not funny, Ekko.”

He turned to her sharply, his old friend—his childhood companion—now a stranger and yet not. His voice dropped, heavy with accusation.

“Was it you?”

Your head snapped up, your expression a mix of surprise and frustration.

“Ekko!”

Powder’s eyes darkened and her voice rising.

“It was you,” she spat. “You gave the tip. We went to that job because of you.”

The air in the room grew heavy as Powder’s words sank in. Ekko’s breath caught in his throat. His memories of another life swirled with the knowledge that here, in this version of the world, everything was twisted. His hands trembled as realization hit him. The raid on Jayce’s workshop... That was where Vi—this Violet—died. That was why there was no Hextech here, why this world felt so fragmented.

“I think you should go before I say something I’ll regret,” Powder said quietly, her voice trembling with barely restrained anger.

Ekko stood, the sudden movement making Violet stir in your arms. He didn’t look at you, Powder, or the baby. His body moved automatically, his legs carrying him toward the door.

“I’m working on it,” he mumbled, though the words felt hollow even to him.

You called after him, your voice sharp with concern, but he kept walking.

“Dad?” Wyeth’s voice called out from nearby, concern lacing his tone. Ekko didn’t respond, his thoughts too tangled and chaotic to register anything else.

You watched Ekko leave, your jaw tightening in frustration. The strange behavior, the short temper—it was too much. You handed Violet to Powder, murmuring softly.

“Hold her for a second, please.”

Powder’s expression softened slightly as she took the baby, hugging her carefully though her gaze lingered on you in concern. You followed him out.

“Ekko!” you called sharply. He didn’t turn, but you grabbed his wrist, forcing him to stop and face you. His expression was tense, his eyes darting everywhere but to you.

“What the hell is going on with you?” you demanded, your tone low but fiery. “You’ve been acting weird all day. You know what tomorrow is—it’s our daughter’s birthday. You’re not going to ruin this over something stupid.”

That word—daughter—caught him off guard, sparking the storm of confusion inside him all over again. His mind rebelled against the warmth in your voice, the certainty in your words. How could you say it so easily, so naturally, as if everything about this world made sense?

He shook his head, his voice rising in frustration.

“I’m not ruining anything. I just—”

You didn’t let him finish.

“Powder didn’t do anything to you. If you’re tired, fine, but you owe her an apology. She doesn’t deserve this.”

Ekko swallowed hard, his throat dry. The words escaped before he could stop them.

“I’m not even sure those are really my children!”

The moment the sentence left his lips, he froze.

The look on your face was enough to make him wish he could disappear. Anger flashed in your eyes, but beneath it, he saw the hurt—the disbelief. He didn’t mean it like that.

God, he didn’t mean it.

“What did you just say?”

“I—” he stammered, the words tangled in his throat. “I didn’t... that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Ekko?” you demanded, your voice tight with controlled fury.

He wanted to tell you the truth. That he wasn’t your Ekko, that the children weren’t technically his, that he didn’t even belong in this world. But he couldn’t. The words wouldn’t come, and the weight of what he couldn’t say crushed him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his shoulders slumping. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You stared at him for a long moment, your jaw tightening as your anger simmered. Finally, you took a deep breath and stepped back.

“Go for a walk and cool off.”

Before he could respond, you turned and walked back toward Powder’s hideout.

Ekko stood there for a long moment, staring at the spot where you had disappeared. The weight of everything—this world, its expectations, the people who had unknowingly tied themselves to him—pressed down on him, suffocating and inescapable.

He ran a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath.

“Great job, idiot,” he muttered bitterly to himself.

The streets around him blurred, the laughter and light of this version of Zaun clashing against the turmoil in his mind. He felt like a stranger in his own life, and no amount of sunshine or clean air could change that.

But as he stood there alone, one thought refused to leave him:

He just hurt the people who mattered most in this world.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

You re-enter the cave with silent steps, the cool air brushing against your skin as you wrap your arms around yourself. Your chest feels tight, the pain blooming there sharper than any gunshot wound. You bite down hard on the urge to cry, swallowing it like bitter medicine.

When you reach Vi's sanctuary, Powder is holding Violet in her arms. She turns to look at you, and whatever she sees in your face makes her pause. Her expression softens, though it doesn’t lose the edge of mischief. She lets out an exaggerated sigh, the kind meant to ease tension and distract.

"Well, look who’s back," she says, forcing a smile that stretches a little too wide. “Guess what, Mama? Aunt Powder got new crayons!” Her voice takes on a sing-song lilt, as if a few minutes ago her old friend hadn’t accused her of being the cause of her own sister death.

Before you can say anything, Wyeth is at her side in an instant, his excitement bubbling over. Powder laughs and hand him the crayons, vibrant sticks of color in every hue.

“Take your little sister and draw something pretty. Something cool for Aunt Pow-pow.” she says with a wink.

Wyeth nods eagerly, leaning in to kiss Violet on the head. He scoops her up with the care of a child trying to prove just how grown-up he is and carries her to the makeshift tent Powder had set up—a cozy hideout of blankets, pillows, and soft light. Violet’s soft babbling carries over as Wyeth settles her down, and began instructing Violet on how they’d make the “best drawing ever.”

Powder straightens, brushing imaginary dust off, and finally looks at you fully. Her smile falters just a little.

“Alright,” she says, “spill. What’s up with your husband?”

You shake your head, frustration and confusion vying for dominance.

“I don’t know,” you admit, your voice strained. “He was fine this morning, and now… now, I don’t even know who I was talking to back there.”

Powder watches you closely, her blue eyes narrowing slightly before she lets out a small sigh.

“I shouldn’t have said what I said to him...”

You wave her off, sinking onto the small couch and resting your face in your hand.

“You’re not the one who should be apologizing.” Your voice is muffled, tired.

Silence settles between the two of you, heavy but not suffocating, just long enough for the tension to ebb. Powder leans back, her usual energy subdued but still present in the way her hands fidget with the edge of her shirt. Then, without a word, she drops something into your lap.

You look down and pick it up—a sketch, delicate lines drawn with an artist’s touch. It’s a design for a baby dress. The fabric in the sketch flows softly, a pastel green shade that feels gentle and light. Little embroidered fireflies dot the hem, their wings detailed with tiny lines of imagined thread. Flowers bloom along the neckline, subtle and sweet, and the sleeves are puffed ever so slightly, adding a playful charm. The waist is cinched with a sash, and a small bow ties neatly in the back, making it utterly perfect for a little one’s birthday.

You trace the design with your fingertips, your heart softening despite the ache still lingering. Ekko was just upset, you think. He didn’t really believe that those babies weren’t his, did he? Hell, they’re his spitting image. Violet has his nose, his hair, his everything, down to the small furrow of concentration she gets when she’s focused.

Powder’s voice breaks through your thoughts.

“What do you think?” she asks, her tone light.

You glance up at her with a faint smile.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, the words more heartfelt than you expect.

Powder waves it off like it’s nothing.

“Please,” she says, smirking. “That’s nothing. I’ve got like eight more gifts saved up for the princess.”

You laugh despite yourself, the sound breaking through some of the tension still clinging to you. Powder grins back, the energy in her expression more genuine now.

For a moment, the pain in your chest feels just a little easier to bear.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

tags: @xelzaria @honeyfewr @bubblegupyy @iwasholic @chaeisbroke @emforjin @itszazouu @kriss-w @moonlight-dreamer04 @iloveavatar

#ekko x reader #arcane x reader #arcane season two #arcane ekko x reader #ekko fluff #dad!ekko

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transgendz · 5 months ago

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Cool, so my roommate has a ticket she needs paid tomorrow, and she didn't tell me almost midnight because she really thought she could handle it on her own. I am the main supporter of this household, and my job has been 2 weeks or more late with my check (almost 3 rn for one of them). I have a new job, but I just started training, and I'm not certain when that first check will be yet. Things are dire. We have a bill overdue and rent due on the first.

So, I have an art blog where I take requests and commissions, as well as selling finishshed pieces. Examples below. Dm me there for that @theartistrans and Dm me for proof or details on this situation if you want. I'll update as things change, I expect an update on my late pay from my original job, and news on when I get the check for the new one, just not sure when. Goal rn is for her ticket only, but anything beyond that will go towards covering the rest of this mess, hopefully before my birthday.

Kofi $C PP V

$0/$300

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merchen-aeravellae · 1 year ago

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Little Princess

Part 1

Yandere Royal Family x Fake Princess!Reader

Warning: yandere, platonic yandere, possessiveness, potion It's my birthday and this is my gift for you, It's 11:59 but it's still my birthday, not edited, tomorrow I will edit it.

The empire is getting ready for the most important celebration of the year. The imperial family is decorating the palace with gold and silver decorations, and diamond gifts are the sensation of the moment. However, a room that has been accumulating dust for years will be the cause of all plans crumbling.

°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●°•○●

Yandere family is excited about the approaching date. Their little princess is reaching the age to debut in high society, and they cannot miss the opportunity to show you off to others.

Yandere family has all the servants decorating the castle, and they have the citizens decorating the village not that anyone is complaining. They have turned your birthday into the most important celebration of the year, always celebrating in grand style without skimping on expenses. You deserve the very best, and this year is no exception.

Yandere family is searching for you all over the castle to drag you along to find new dresses for the occasion. However, you are hiding in every possible place to avoid being found. You argue that you already have many dresses, but they don't care; they still want to buy you more.

Yandere family doesn't realize that you're hiding in the library where the history of the empire and the royal family is kept. You usually don't go there, or rather, you're not allowed to be there, which makes it the perfect place to avoid being sought out.

You tried to enter the room, but it seemed locked. However, you had been living in this palace long enough to learn how to open its doors without the need for a key. You quickly closed the door and pressed your ear against it, listening to several pairs of footsteps in the hallway. You didn't move from that spot until you stopped hearing them. You walked around, observing your surroundings; there were dozens of books everywhere, from the tables to the shelves.

You grab several books out of curiosity, but none capture your attention for long. That is until a series of books supported on the highest and furthest shelf from the others catches your eye it seems like they didn't want these books to be found. You use a nearby chair to reach them.

You read the title aloud, 'History and Genealogical Tree of the Imperial Family.' It's the first time you've read a book related to your family's history. Your curiosity overcame you, and you kept reading until you reached the part about your closest family members.

But it seemed that someone had made modifications to the book; someone had tried to cover up a name. You suppose it's yours since the person didn't do a good job, and you could still see some letters that you recognized as your own name. They had placed your sister's name over yours, and you didn't know the reason for that.

You continued reading to find the reason for this change, and finally, you reached the notes. A chill ran down your spine. In the notes, it was written about the true identity of your older sister and how someone else had been occupying her place for a long time. That person was you.

Yandere family doesn't understand your sudden change in personality; now you're thoughtful all the time, and they are sure you've been crying. Initially, they thought that the decorations and dresses were the cause of your sadness – not good enough or expensive enough for you. However, even after changing everything for something more luxurious, you remain the same.

Yandere family is desperate; they don't understand what's happening, searching far and wide without finding a logical reason. They press you until you can't take it anymore, and you confront them for having hidden the truth about your origins for so long.

Yandere family is surprised and horrified that you now know the truth. They waste no time in finding culprits: was it the servants, the guards, a family member? No matter who it was, their head will be displayed on a pike for the crime they committed.

Yandere family try to talk to you and explain the situation, but you refuse to listen. They are so desperate that they get on their knees to beg for your forgiveness, but not even that works to make you glance in their direction. It is at that moment that they devise a plan to uncover the truth and get rid of the culprit.

Yandere family quickly realized the truth; the forbidden library was unlocked, and it seemed like someone had been lurking around. A book that should have been burned long ago lay on the floor in a corner with all its pages crumpled.

Yandere family already have plans to remedy the situation, but they must act as soon as possible. A few days ago, you tried to escape, claiming that you need to find your biological family and seek answers to your questions. Your biological family may start praying that you never find them; if you do, your adoptive family won't hesitate to bury them alive in the depths of the earth so they never see the light of day again.

Yandere family have you locked in your room now, not wanting to take the risk of you trying to escape again, and this time succeeding. They sought out the most powerful witch in the empire to help them fix the situation. The solution is to make you believe it was all a dream. Initially confused, the witch provided them with a potion and detailed instructions on its usage.

Yandere family gave you the potion in one of your meals. They didn't want to do it, but they felt they had no other choice. At first, you refused to eat, but it didn't last long. Accustomed to having a full stomach, a single day of not ingesting anything made you feel sick. Your room was a mess, and you curled up in a corner. Your older sister tried to approach, but you quickly moved away as far as possible. She looked at you with sadness in her eyes, left the food on the bedside table, and left, locking the door behind her. You didn't take long to start eating.

Yandere family worried when you fell ill, even though they knew it was just the potion doing its work on your body and mind. You stayed in that state for days, and they took advantage of the time to remodel the library. They couldn't get rid of the book because it would be too suspicious, so they simply replaced it with a different one. The author who wrote the notes "disappeared" one night, and they never found them.

Yandere family were relieved when you woke up several days later, confused and unsure of the date. You were scared that your family acted as if nothing had happened. Your room was tidy, and the things you broke were arranged without a scratch. They told you that you fainted while trying on a dress for your celebration, and you hadn't woken up since then.

Yandere family know you won't stay still and will search for the family book in the library again, but this time, they are prepared.

You are confused when you read the book with the family tree; your name is alongside the rest of the royal family members, and the note about you taking the place of someone else is nowhere to be found. Was it all a dream? Everything felt so real; now, you don't know what is true and what is a lie.

Yandere family observe your behavior; you no longer reject them, but you also don't get too close to them. It's progress, and they know that sooner or later, you will come to them.

Yandere family are overjoyed when you apologize. At first, they acted confused, but when you explained that you had strange dreams, and that's why you acted strangely these past weeks, they "forgave you" and asked you to continue with the preparations for your birthday to proceed as usual.

Yandere family shed tears of joy and a bit of envy towards the other eyes watching you when they see you descending the grand staircase like an angel meeting its faithful devotees, blessing them with your presence.

Yandere family "They abandoned you, but we can protect you. The world is cruel, and our greatest desire is to safeguard your innocence."

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sinofwriting · 5 months ago

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Summer - Nico Rosberg

Words: 531 Word Prompt: Summer Note(s): Implied Sugar Daddy Nico Rosberg, Implied Age Gap

Masterlist | Support Me! | Sin’s Sept. Blurbs

“I hate summer.” She moans, hiding her face in the pillows.

Nico hums, eyes gliding along the naked expanse of her back. “So horrible.”

“The humidity, it was like it was trying to kill me. And I had to wear sneakers and my feet,” she whines, turning over and he hungrily drinks in the view of her top half bare before him. “They even got all hot, Nico.”

“I’m sorry.”

She pouts at the distracted tone in his voice and sits up, watching as his eyes stay glued to her breasts. She huffs.

She knew she was being dramatic. But Nico had invited her here because he wanted to spend time with her and then on her first day here he hadn’t spent any time with her. And she had only managed to get one of her two bags from his car before he left, which meant that she had to wander around in the 35 degree heat with sneakers instead of the cute but supportive sandals she had brought.

It was fine though, he had things to do tomorrow as well now and she could just get her revenge on him then.

—

Nico frowns as he enters the apartment he was renting and sees quite a few bags in the living room. They were nice brands, luxury brands, and normally the sight would never bother him, but he struggles to remember ever getting notifications for any of them.

Pulling out his phone, he quickly opens his banking and frowns seeing nothing there.

“Liebling!” He calls out.

“Nico! How were the meetings?”

Her voice is a bit faint.

“They went good. You went shopping?”

“Yeah,” her voice is louder and his attention shifts to where the hallway for the bedrooms and bathroom connect to the living room.

His breath catches as he gets a glimpse of her. She was so breathtakingly beautiful it had been a miracle when they first met that he managed to wait a few months to ask her out.

“I got some new tops and a few dresses. Oh, and more of that perfume you like.”

He makes a slight humming noise, eyes back on the shopping bags. “You didn’t use my card.”

“I have my own money, I didn’t need to use it.”

The words feel like a slight stab to the chest. He was aware she didn’t need his money, her father more than made sure of that, but she had never said that before. “But it’s yours to use.”

She shrugs, “it was just a bit of shopping.”

The words, I’ll use it next time, don’t follow and that hurts as well.

It must show on his face because she softens and comes closer, her arms wrapping around his waist, lips brushing along his neck.

“Ignore me again, Nico Rosberg, and I’ll cut your card up and buy that necklace you’re wanting to get me for my birthday.” After the last word, she places a sweet kiss to his lips, leaving them a little sticky from her lip gloss before pulling away completely. “Got it?”

He nods, tongue darting out to lick his lips, to taste the gloss she left on them. “Got it.”

#nico rosberg imagine #nico rosberg x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #sins fics #Sin's Sept. Blurbs

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moonstruckme · 1 year ago

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Hi!!! I saw you did a poly!marauders with a plus!dive reader who’s insecure…

Can you write one where the reader is shying away from intimacy with the boys because they’re insecure and feeling ick about their body? Like not just sex but also physical touch like hugs or especially sitting on their laps? It can include smut too if you’d like!

I’m feeling pretty ick about my size rn and the fix really helped me! Thank u sm for your writing

Thanks sm for requesting lovely! I hope you start to feel better soon <33

cw: insecurity around size/weight, talk of traditional beauty standards

poly!marauders x plus size!reader ♡ 1.3k words

The funny thing is, the boys have been wearing away at your instincts for months. It’s no conscious effort for them, but for you it’s impossible not to notice. Before you got together, you’d been used to shying away from nearly every touch. You rarely hugged anyone, kissed only chastely, and shunned most physical intimacy. But though they’ve gone about it in a gentlemanly way, never putting pressure on you, your boyfriends have slowly changed that. Now hardly a day goes by without James having had his arm around your waist, Remus raking casual touches up your leg, or Sirius turning a kiss into a feely makeout.

Unfortunately, you still have your bad days. Earlier this week you’d looked too long into the mirror, and of course found a dozen things to hate about your body, and hadn’t wanted any of the boys to touch you since. When Sirius’ hand had smoothed over your lower back yesterday, skimming the rolls of fat at your sides, you’d almost thought you’d be sick before you could get away from him. You couldn’t stop thinking about what he’d feel there, what he’d think of you when he did. You’re not stupid; you know your boyfriends can see you, but touching is something different. What they probably want to feel isn’t what you have to offer, perfectly smooth skin and sloping, gentle curves. It sometimes feels like you’re keeping the secret of your true form from them, and if they discover it they’ll see you the same way you do.

“So, what’s the big secret?” Sirius asks as you come into the common room. All three boys are tangled up on the couch, and the other two turn to look when he calls out to you.

You give him a bemused sort of smile, perching on the armrest next to James. Careful not to put much of your weight on it. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy.” Sirius narrows his eyes at you playfully. “I saw you whispering with Evans earlier, glancing at us all mischievously. What’re you two up to?”

You have to bite down on your smile. Sirius’ birthday is coming up, and you and Lily are in charge of his surprise party plans. James and Remus are involved too, of course, but it’s far easier for you and Lily to speak about it in your dorm at night, whereas your boyfriends hardly get any time apart to partake in secret plans.

“Oh,” you say breezily, “that was nothing. She was asking if we’re going to hogsmeade tomorrow. I told her we are.”

James smiles at you conspiratorially, bringing a hand to your thigh and rubbing up and down in silent support. You almost have a heart attack. You place your hand hastily atop his, intertwining your fingers as cover for your panicked response. James doesn’t seem unhappy with the change, resting his head against your arm as he strokes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“Should we make it a study session in hogsmeade?” Remus asks, neatly keeping the subject away from Sirius’ party. “We’ve all got that potions paper due Monday.”

“I’ve finished,” you admit, “but I’m still open to studying if you guys want to.”

Remus rewards you with a smile as Sirius rolls his eyes good-naturedly. “Show-off,” he mutters.

“Shut up, Pads,” James says, always looking for any opportunity to take your side over Sirius’. He grabs your waist before you can stop him, tugging you off the armrest.

No sooner do you land on his lap than you’re springing to your feet. “James!” you cry, batting at his hands when they reach to pull you back. “You can’t just do that, I’ll crush you!”

Thick eyebrows fly up past the rims of James’ glasses and disappear behind his curls. “I’m sorry,” he says, in a tone that clearly means the opposite, “do you really think I’m so weak that I’ll crumble from you sitting on my lap?”

“It’s not—”

“Fucking hell,” Sirius cuts in, looking horrified, “if you think James can’t handle you, what do you think of Remus and I?”

“I’ll bench press you right now,” James insists, trying to push the other boys aside so he has room to lay down. “Come here, lovie, we’ll see who’s weak.”

The laugh that emerges from your throat borders on hysterical. “I wasn’t trying to say that anyone here was weak, okay? I just…” There’s no good way to phrase that last part, and you think for a moment to simply leave it there, but Remus leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees with an expression that clearly reads go on. “I know I’m not, like, a tiny delicate bird,” you laugh, aiming for flippancy.

No one laughs with you.

“But I don’t need any of you to respond to that,” you hurry to say. “I know it’s a weird subject, and there’s, like, no right way, really, to…to respond.” You trail off dumbly, wishing desperately that you’d never broached the subject in the first place.

After a moment of silence, you chance a glance up, but one look at Sirius’ visage, bordering on outraged, has your gaze defaulting back to your lap. “Sorry,” you say in a small voice. “Can we forget about it?”

“That’s alright, love.” Remus' voice is dulcet, so low you would never normally have heard him if the other two boys weren’t so uncharacteristically silent. “Listen, we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to, but can I just say something?”

You look up to nod at him, finding his countenance equal parts troubled and patient. His mouth is pursed like he’s worried that if he’s not careful, the wrong words will come flying out. At your nod of assent, he speaks, clearly and firmly.

“I don’t want you to look like a bird.”

You almost laugh again, it’s such an absurd declaration, but Remus’ expression is serious. “You know what I mean, though,” you say, lifting a shoulder like this conversation is nothing to you. “I know what guys want. I’m not that.”

“Bullshit,” Sirius says, and Remus’ lips twitch upward at your boyfriend’s brash tongue. “You’re just gonna lump us in with all guys? Do all girls want the exact same thing too?” You go to protest, but he talks over you, fuming. “Golden boys, tall with blond hair, blue eyes, and an eight-pack of abs, right? Is that what you wish we looked like?”

“Of course not.” You’re tripping over yourself in your denial. “I wouldn’t—I don’t want you to look any other way.”

“But you can see his point, can’t you?” Remus asks gently. “If we each only liked what we’re told is most attractive, a face full of scars probably wouldn’t be on the top of that list.” You must look as devastated as you feel, because Remus’ lips pull up in a reassuring half-smile, the long scar across his cheek flashing silver with the movement. “Does that matter to you?”

Your voice is quiet; chastened, but ardent. “No. Not at all.”

“So perhaps you can imagine,” James says, raising his eyebrows at you teasingly, “how if you can look at us and find things to love, we can do the same with you.” You gnaw on your lip, and his brows come slowly back down.

“Don’t,” Sirius says sternly. “Stop thinking whatever you’re thinking. You’re gorgeous, and we like you like this.” His eyes bore into yours, insistent. “You can’t make our decisions for us about which parts of you we’re allowed to like, understand?”

James nods, extending his hands to you. “Would you come sit with me, angel? Only if you want to, of course,” he adds at your hesitance, “but please don’t refrain because you’re worried about anything to do with me.”

You give him an assessing look. “Alright,” you say, perching on his lap. “Just tell me if you want me to get off.”

“Will do, darling.” James grips the fat of your hips, hauling you onto him so that your feet leave the floor and your full weight is on him. “Not much danger of that, though.”

“Honestly,” Remus hums, pulling your legs across his lap so that you’re sitting sideways on James, “the day one of us says we want you to look more like a bird, run, sweetheart. Someone’s using polyjuice or something.”

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judesmoonbeauty · 2 months ago

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Jude Jazza’s 2nd Birthday: “The Cursed Moon Within His Merciless Arms” Epilogue POV

This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy cannot be guaranteed. Please expect grammatical errors and lack of nuance. Creative liberties were taken in order for a smoother translation. Cybird owns everything. Re-blogs are appreciated, but please do not repost or claim my translations as your own. Thank you for your support! ☾⋆

MDNI. NSFW.

Victor: Welcome back, Jude!

It was late at night when I returned to Crown castle after finishing up work at Raven Co.. That’s when Victor greeted me.

Jude: …..Why’re ya still up?

Victor: Why of course, to prepare for your birthday party tomorrow, Jude! …..

Victor: …Oh, look the date has already changed. JUDE, HAPPY BIRTH—

Jude: —Hold it.

Victor: I can’t even give you my wishes? ….That makes me feel so lonely.

Jude: Already gotta prior engagement with ‘em words.

After I rejected him, I thought back to the conversation I had with Kate before I left for work.

[Flashback]

Jude: I’ll be back late t’night.

I don’t share my schedule with others unless it’s necessary.

…..However, my birthday was tomorrow, and she asked me about my schedule a month in advance in order to celebrate it.

She’d been counting down the days, so I felt like I owed it to her to say something.

Kate: Oh, really….?

Seeing Kate look disheartened, guilt that I thought I’d long lost, started to surface.

Kate: ….Um, well, I just have one favor to ask, Jude.

Kate: I want to be the first to wish you happy birthday, so I want to come back to your room no matter how late it is.

Kate: If you sleep at Raven Co., your employees might be the first to tell you…

Kate: Oh, but I’m not saying you have to do it. Just only if it’s possible……

Kate said that with a pasted smile on her face.

It was obvious that she was trying to suppress her feelings so she wouldn’t burden me.

— A woman who understands circumstances, or a woman who doesn’t understand circumstances.

If you ask me which one is better, naturally it’s an understanding woman who stays in her lane.

(But…what’s this?)

(I reckon it’ll be fine to listen to some of the selfish stuff she asks.)

Jude: …..Can’t make no promises, but I’ll try my best.

Kate: Really? Thanks, Jude!!!

[Flash Back Ends]

Remembering Kate’s bright smile, like a moon emerging from the clouds,

I parted ways from Victor towards my room, my pace a little quicker than usual.

When I returned I could tell Kate had waited for as long as she could, having fallen asleep in the chair.

(…..Whadda pain.)

I picked Kate up and carried her to the bed,

The line actually reads that he picked her up behind the knees. Essentially, he princess carried her. However, I felt this is already implied and opted to leave it out.

And then I quickly fell asleep thinking about the wishes Kate would say to me when she woke up.

When my birthday arrived, it was a crazy day.

In the morning, I wasted time dealing with a group of weaklings trying to kill me off,

And that afternoon, Crown celebrated my birthday with a song….

It was late in the evening when I was finally alone with Kate.

Kate: Ohh….Jude…..it feels so…..good…

When I bit into her throat and drove myself deep inside her, Kate clung to me looking blissed out.

When I saw that look, I swallowed hard.

I wanted to make her feel even better, to mess her up even more. To drive her even crazier……A violent need surged throughout my body.

(…..Am I a kid who gets turned on for seein’ my girlfriend gettin’ excited?)

Kate’s tearful eyes, her knitted brows as she tried to endure, her melted expression as she comes…..

I got excited by Kate’s expressions as our bodies melded together,

Just like a boy falling in love for the first time.

Jude: ….That so?

I replied bluntly as I cynically laughed internally at my own immature feelings, when Kate’s eyes flickered anxiously.

Kate: Jude……?

Jude: ……

Jude: …….Ain’t no way I’m gonna strain yer body by tanglin’ up with ya if it don’t feel good.

I gave a round about reply and then slowly moved my hips further forward.

As I dragged against each of Kate’s favorite spots, she let out sweet, soft moans.

However, even though she was completely absorbed in pleasure, Kate didn’t stop asking questions.

Kate: Jude, I…..feel so good…right now….I’m losing my mind….

Kate: Can you….say it more clearly….?

(….This woman’s way too worried if I’m feelin’ good or not.)

All she needed to do was surrender herself to the pleasure I was giving her, but she wanted both of us to feel good.

Each time that happened I felt this itchy sensation deep in my heart, like it’d been tickled by a feather…..

I could feel the presence of the thing called love.

(….Feels even weirder answerin’ without thinkin’ it’s a hassle.)

Jude: Guess ain’t no gettin’ ‘round it…..

Jude: ….Feels good, Kate.

Kate laughed as I brushed her bangs away from her sweaty forehead, and kissed her softly.

Kate: Hehe….hey, Jude….

Kate:……To be honest , I was hoping on your birthday, you’d say “I like you” or “I love you”…..

Kate: I kind of thought you’d say it….

Kate: But….this is plenty for now.

As if to say that she understood all the feelings I couldn’t express,

Kate smiled contentedly and caressed my cheek lovingly.

Illuminated by moonlight, Kate glowed brilliantly….giving the illusion of the moon falling from within reach.

(….Beautiful.)

Kate: ….Oh! But…..you can say them whenever you feel like it, okay? Words of love.

Jude:….If I feel like it.

When I brushed it off Kate pouted in dissatisfaction, and immediately I pressed my lips against hers.

In surprise, Kate tried to escape, but my tongue captured and entangled with hers.

(If I don’t say things like “I like ya” or “I love ya”, you’ll keep chasin’ me for ‘em.)

Just as I chase and cry for the moon, you can chase and cry for me too.

Just keep chasing me under a curse that will never be broken for all time.

I have no intention of telling her that….and I can’t let go yet.

Kate: Mmmm……Jude…..

The voice calling me in between kisses, dissolved all of my sense into a puddle.

Jude: …..Ya might’ve had ‘nough, but I ain’t had ‘nough.

Kate: Mm….the present?

When I attended Crown’s birthday party for me, Kate gave me a tasteful fountain pen as a gift.

It was chosen to match the same diameter of the pen I normally used,

'A tasteful fountain pen' was repeated in this line, but I dropped it because I felt it was redundant.

I’ve no intention of nitpicking about it now, and if you asked me to return it, I wouldn’t give it back.

Jude: Haven’t had ‘nough of ya .

Kate: Huh…..Oh!

I resumed the flow from earlier, and as Kate whimpered sweetly I bit her over and over again, sucking her up.

As I etched red marks into her skin, leaving behind traces of our love-making, Kate moved like she was trying to escape.

Jude: …..Oi, whadda tryin’ to run for?

Kate: B-because….if you leave marks there, I won’t be able to cover them with clothing…..

Jude: Tch…..yer tryna hide it now?

I was surprised that my retort carried a sulky tone to it.

….However, Kate didn’t notice the tone of my voice, but kept staring blankly at me.

Kate: …..Is that okay?

Jude: Is what okay?

Kate: Well….if the Crown members see it tomorrow morning, they’ll say something about it, right?

Kate: Jude, you seem bad with that sort of thing…..

Just as Kate said, some of the Crown guys might tease me if they saw the hickeys.

Or maybe they’ll just look on and not give a lick.

Jude: It’s fine ya don't do that…….Were ya avoidin’ me ‘cause ya were frettin’ over that?

Kate: …..Yeah, but if you don’t care Jude…..

Kate: Then I want you to leave lots of marks on me.

Kate:….Oh, I’m asking you to do everything again.

Jude: ….There’s nothin’ wrong with that.

You were the first to give me birthday wishes, kicked out those gits who attacked me, chose a gift that made me happy,

Called out to me with a soft, sweet voice, accepted me in deepest parts of you, and wanted to cater to me.

…..Kate might think it’s only natural since it’s my birthday, but it’s not just about getting someone to do something for you.

Jude: If that’s whatcha want, I’ll engrave ‘em on ya ‘til ya hate it.

This cursed, cursed night was far from being over.

[Story Master List] [Birthday Letter] Dividers: @.natimiles @.cafekitsune

PLEASE, he is SO SWEET. The way he's slowly noticing emotions in himself that he thought no longer existed, and the fact that he can feel the presence of love inside of himself (when he feels that he out of all people wouldn't, and feels it's suffocating overall.) Ugh, I can't wait to see his character growth over time. And that BLUSH when he admits he hasn't had enough of her!

Tags List: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @complexivelovely @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka @rosalyne08 @8the-perfect-lie8 @voydsoul

If you wish to be added to my tags list and are 18+, then please comment below and specify which suitor, or all translations!

#jude jazza #ikevil jude #jude jazza translations #ikevil #ikevil translations #cybird translations #mdni

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