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rxmye · 3 months

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" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

��𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

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roosterforme · 6 months

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 2 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: The collection of letters that Bradley received from the fourth grade class provides him with entertainment while deployed. He takes the time to answer their questions and send a package back to the United States via air mail. But he has your email address. He also has a bit of a crush and some questions himself.

Warnings: Fluff, language

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

A few days later, when Bradley was done with his training protocols for the day, he returned to his bunk with a different mission in mind. While he unzipped his flight suit, he eyed the box which was taking up most of his nightstand, and a smile found its way to his lips. He managed to find a notebook that nobody wanted along with a thick, padded envelope, and he was going to take the time to respond to the fourth graders who wrote to him.

He'd spent hours poring over the letters, laughing at some of the questions from the kids and frequently picking up that one photo. He couldn't stop going back for more. For another look at you. Just one more look. Okay, this really was the last one. He had to toss it across the small room toward his duffel so he could focus on something other than your smile and the fact that he might have a tiny crush on a fourth grade teacher who knew absolutely nothing about him. Yet.

The note from Jayden was on the top, and Bradley opened it up and started to jot down a response.

Jayden,

It was so nice to hear from you and the rest of your class. To answer your pertinent questions, I am currently stationed on the USS Theodore Roosevelt. The most disgusting food in the mess hall is easily the cabbage rolls (which taste nothing like cabbage... or rolls). The best food in the mess hall is surprisingly the meatloaf. And yes, I would love to see a photo of your Cocker Spaniel. Please send one next time. I hope you're studying and doing your best in school.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The next note he decided to tackle was the one from Violet who had the tiniest handwriting he'd ever seen. The page had at least fifteen questions written out, but he decided to answer just a few for her. He had to squint as he skimmed through them again.

Violet,

You seem very inquisitive. That's a great quality to have, especially if you want to be a pilot someday. No, I did not attend the Naval Academy. I went to the University of Virginia. Yes, the Navy is way better than the Air Force. Yes, I can hold my breath underwater for three minutes. Yes, they actually made me do it. No, I don't think I could make it as a Navy SEAL. Yes, I have been staying hydrated and getting enough sun, thanks so much for asking. Keep studying hard, because you have a lot of school ahead of you before officer training.

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

Okay, so this was actually a lot of fun. Up next was a response to the note from Oliver, which made Bradley laugh every time he looked at it.

Oliver,

Thank you so much for drawing the different Naval aircrafts for me. I hate to break it to you, but I actually do not fly the F-35 Lightning II. Yes, I know they look 'sickeningly cool'. Yes, I know it would be like 'slam dunking off the back of a dragon'. I guess I never knew I was jealous of those pilots until right now.... But I fly the equally cool if not quite as sickening looking F/A-18 Super Hornet. And yes, I would be more than happy to draw my own version of one for you. See below.

Lt. Bradley Bradshaw

The ten minutes he spent replicating his own aircraft to the best of his ability for Oliver churned out a pretty damn good result. He fished his phone out of the nightstand and took a picture to email to Nat when he had time, because she would find this whole thing amusing. Then he reached for the letters from Harrison, Nia and Jackie. He wrote his responses, and after a bit, he had a decent sized stack of letters all ready to go back to the fourth graders.

After a few more days, he worked his way through the entire class, and each kid would soon have a handwritten response on the way. He just needed to figure out what he wanted to say to you. The pretty teacher from the class photo that he now kept tucked in with his personal items. He worked on that one last, writing your full name at the top of the page and wishing you didn't go by the very non-specific Ms. which gave him zero clue as to whether or not you were married.

The package you sent was the nicest piece of deployment mail I have ever received. Thank you. I'm lucky it ended up in my hands. I'm impressed by how much all of your students have learned about aviation this year. I just hope I did them justice in regards to the questions they had for me.

I also hope you don't mind that I replied to each kid individually. They had some very amusing stories and questions, and I wanted to acknowledge all of them. But there was one question in particular that I was asked so many times, I thought I'd answer it here instead. My call sign is kind of a silly one, so it's okay if you all laugh. I go by Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, and my helmet is mostly red, yellow and black.

Your kids seem like a fun bunch, but I bet they keep you on your toes. Feel free to let them know they can write back to me again, but please include my name on the package this time. I don't know that I'd be lucky enough to have it fall into my hands again by chance. I'll just be here somewhere in the middle of the Pacific Ocean for a few more months, ready to answer any questions you throw at me. Hope to hear back from you soon.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

The following day, he packed everything up and dropped it off with the rest of the ship's outgoing mail. There was a rumor that a helicopter would be coming to pick it up in the next day or two, and he wanted to make sure it got back to California and those fourth graders as soon as possible. On his way back to his bunk, Bradley stopped by the lounge to see if there was an iPad free, hoping to send a quick email or two. He was in luck. He also happened to have your email address memorized.

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You yawned at your desk and checked the time on your computer. Within the next ten minutes, your classroom would go from silent solitude to mass chaos, so you took a minute to clear out your email inbox. You had a few messages from some parents and a reminder about Spirit Week from the superintendent. And a random piece of junk mail that must have slipped through the spam filters. You didn't know anyone with a US Navy email address, and you didn't know anyone named Bradley Bradshaw.

As you closed your laptop, you gasped and tried to pry it back open again as quickly as you could. The Navy! The package you sent a few weeks ago! Maybe it was someone writing back to your class! Of course it could just be someone saying they were sorry that they didn't have time to engage with your students, but you figured even that was better than nothing.

"Come on," you whispered, entering your credentials again before your inbox reappeared on your screen. The email was just a few lines long, but it was addressed to you by name. You were smiling immediately as you read it.

I just wanted to let you know that I got the mail you sent to a deployed Naval Aviator. There's a package on its way to your school for your class. It should arrive in about a week or two. Your fourth graders provided me with several hours of entertainment, and I hope they find my answers to their many (and amusing) questions useful. Thanks for the laughs, and thanks for the photos, too. Can't tell you how much I've been enjoying them. Hope to hear from all of you again.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

You squealed and pumped your fists in the air. Someone actually got the box! And he actually responded! The other, older teachers thought you were just wasting your time when you deviated from the lesson plans a bit. Literally all of them said there was no way anyone would write back, even though you took the time to go through the proper channels at Top Gun on North Island. But now you could rub it in their faces, all thanks to Bradley Bradshaw who sounded like he'd had as much fun with this whole thing as your class had.

Then your day really started as Violet and Oliver burst into your classroom, calling out your name with excitement in their voices. The rest of your kids followed behind them, already asking about the plans for the day and what kind of adventure you'd be taking them on in each subject.

When you clapped your hands twice and said, "Good morning," they all clapped and replied with their own greeting, and then they sat quietly with their gazes fixed on you. "Guess who I just got an email from!"

"The president!"

"My grandma!"

"My Cocker Spaniel!"

"Oliver's grandma!"

You just shook your head and tried not to laugh as you said, "None of the above. But do you remember when we wrote and packed up those letters for a real aviator in the military to read?" Most of the kids nodded, so you added, "Well, he emailed us! And he sent us some mail that should arrive in about a week!"

And telling them that was a mistake. Because you didn't know a moment of peace after that. Every morning, you had kids rushing into the room to see if the promised piece of mail arrived yet. Every day you had to disappoint them, but you were finding yourself a little disappointed, too. You wanted to know what this Bradley Bradshaw guy sent back.

You'd responded to his initial email letting him know you and the kids in your class were delighted to hear from him and that you would let him know when the mail he sent arrived at your school. He didn't respond, but you figured he was busy. Too busy to constantly muck about with your class while he was thousands of miles away on a deployment.

And that was what left you standing at your desk with your mouth hanging open in awe when the padded envelope did finally arrive one morning. Because when you carefully cut it open, you found not just one letter to the class but individual handwritten notes, one for each child.

"Wow," you whispered, pulling the note with your name written on the top out of the stack. This man seemed humble and sweet, and his letter made you laugh in more than one spot as you read through it. Then you read it again. He sounded apologetic about responding to each individual kid, but you felt like your insides were melting. Who would do that? Who would take the time to give individual attention to a bunch of nine and ten year olds besides you? And you were technically getting paid to do it.

Bradley Bradshaw seemed willing to continue to engage with your kids, and you weren't going to stop him. Because starting that morning, he became something of a legend to your class. A celebrity. A real lieutenant in the Navy replied to all of their silly questions, and their love of aviation just grew from there. You figured you were going to have to keep your lesson plans going a bit longer while their faces lit up as you walked around the room and handed them each their notes. You had taken the time to skim them beforehand, often laughing at his sense of humor which seemed to jump off the pages.

"Can we write back to him?" Jayden asked as everyone read their notes from Lieutenant Bradshaw. "I have more questions."

You smiled and nodded. "Yes, you may write back to him." Then you postponed your geology lesson until the next day and let them spend the next forty minutes writing some followup letters. You took some pictures of them diligently toiling away at their desks, excitement on their faces. Then you bit your lip and sat down at your own desk.

As you started to construct an email letting him know the envelope had arrived, your thoughts drifted to what he might be like. Humble and sweet, for sure. But he also made it a point to tell you that the box from your class was the best piece of mail he'd ever received while deployed. Maybe he was a little bit lonely. Maybe he was single. Maybe he was stationed on the west coast. Your thoughts started to get ahead of you, and it was hard to reel them in when you imagined him excited to see another email from you. Smiling when he was handed another box from your class during mail call.

Dear Lt Bradley Bradshaw,

We got the envelope from you today, and my kids are absolutely thrilled! I'm not sure if you know how hard it can be to wrangle eighteen fourth graders all at one time, but they are currently sitting quietly and working on new letters for you to read. Once again, please don't feel obligated to continue correspondence if you're too busy. I'm sure you have other people you could be writing to who want your attention as well. I just wanted you to know they are overjoyed that a Naval officer took the time to answer their questions about aviation.

I have attached some photos as proof that they are sitting still. Thanks again for making their day.

You signed your name at the bottom the way you always would from your work email account, and then you attached the photos. After a brief debate about adding the selfie you took with Violet where most of your face was visible, you decided to just go for it. Adding it to the mix wouldn't hurt anything. It wasn't like this semi mystery man would be up all night thinking about you.

But you found that you were still thinking about him when you went home to your silent house and made dinner that evening. Maybe he was a little bit lonely, but maybe you were, too.

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It was amazing how infrequently Bradley found himself thinking about Vanessa. He was busier now with his duties picking up a bit more as his deployment wore on, but even when he was tired and in his bunk at night, his thoughts seldom settled on her like he was afraid they might. He didn't miss her or her half-hearted emails, and he wasn't craving the connection of reunion sex with her.

Instead, he was thinking about what a group of fourth graders were learning about this week and what their cute teacher was up to. It had been a few days since you emailed him, letting him know that his package was delivered to your school. You made it sound like the kids were excited that he sent it in the first place, and when he really thought about it, he supposed some officers would have just eaten the snacks and tossed the notes in the trash.

He didn't reply to the email yet, still thrown off a bit by the pictures you attached. Your classroom was vibrant, and the kids were absorbed as they worked on more notes for him to read whenever they happened to be delivered to the carrier. But the photo with you in it held his attention longer than it should have. The fact that you were working at a school that was just a handful of miles from his damn house made him feel warm.

But what would he do about it? What could he do about it? Nothing. He didn't want you to think he was creepy. He still knew essentially nothing else about you. The only thing he could do was keep it friendly if not professional. Unless of course you did something to push the boundaries of conversation into a more personal realm. God, if you did....he didn't think he would be able to handle it.

The next day, when he was heading out on deck to talk to the mechanics who were doing regular maintenance on the aircrafts, he took his phone. "Hey, you mind if I take a few photos of some of the engine parts? I want to send them to a class of fourth graders who will think it's cool."

"Go ahead, Lieutenant," the head mechanic replied. Then he smiled and asked, "You dating a teacher?"

Well. Wouldn't that be something? Bradley would never run out of curious pen pals. He would always have some fourth graders to take interesting photos for and to send notes to. He'd always have a classroom to visit as soon as he got home from a deployment.

He couldn't help but picture you as the teacher.

"Nothing like that," he replied, his voice a little gravelly. "Just writing to some kids who are learning about aviation."

After dinner, when he had a chance to use an iPad in the lounge, he did his best to put together a response to your email that would at least hint at the curiosity he felt.

If all it takes is mail from three thousand miles away to get your class to sit quietly, then I should probably be writing to you every day. But I'm sure you're a great teacher. That's a given considering how much your students learned and shared with me. And I can assure you that I'm more than happy to take the time to write to your class. And you. Please don't think I feel obligated, because I do not. I want to.

I have attached a few pictures of some F/A-18 engine components as well as some of my cockpit controls. Each photo is labeled, but please let me know if you have any questions.

It was nice hearing from you.

Yours Truly,

Lt Bradley Bradshaw

As soon as he hit send, he wanted to kick himself. Should he have included a photo of his face like you had twice now? Or did he already sound too desperate to hear from you and your class again?

"Shit," he muttered, looking around the lounge as if there was going to be someone here proficient in the art of getting to know a fourth grade teacher without sounding stupid. But it was too late now. All he could do was wait for the next mail call or hope you decided to write back to his ramblings by the next time he checked his email.

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You were going to have to scrape your jaw off the floor. You had no idea what this man's face even looked like, but his hands were... something else. And his thighs... well, they were pretty great, too. It must have been too long since you got laid, because you were sitting at your desk in your classroom staring at the set of photos in your inbox, currently unable to look away from his right hand. It was wrapped around the throttle of his aircraft. It was elegant with attractive veins and rough calluses. You were sure that you were supposed to be focusing on the cockpit controls, but all you could see was that hand and his thick, muscular thighs below.

The next photo was no better for you. He was holding up his helmet with his call sign Rooster emblazoned across the front, and you were able to see his left ring finger. There was no wedding band. There was no evidence of an outline where a wedding band would belong. There was just his big, strong hand.

You whimpered softly while your students worked on their math tests. You couldn't help it as you took one last look before logging out of your email account. And now you needed to know if his face matched the very attractive image you had in your mind.

When Jayden called your name, you rocketed to your feet like you'd been caught red handed. "Yes?" you squeaked, your voice sounding higher pitched than usual.

"I'm done with my test. May I have the hall pass and use the restroom?"

You handed it to him as the rest of your class finished working through the math problems. A few minutes later, when you collected the papers from them, Violet asked, "When is Lieutenant Bradshaw going to write back to us?"

It had only been a few days since you mailed him the second box of notes and some more snacks, but it made you happy that they were all so invested in learning more from him.

"It will probably be a few weeks before we get anything in the mail. However... he did email me some pictures of engine and cockpit parts from the aircraft carrier for me to share with you guys." When you looked around the room, the kids were on the edges of their seats, excited expressions on their faces. With a laugh you added, "I was going to wait until tomorrow and use the projector to show them all to you, but if you're very well behaved for the rest of the afternoon, maybe I could pull them up on my computer for you to see them today."

Not two hours later, you were just as excited as the kids were to look at the photos... again. As they crowded around your desk, you opened up the first one of the cockpit to a barrage of questions.

"Is that really his jet?"

"Is that the throttle?"

"What do all the buttons do?"

"Was this right before he flew it?"

Once again you were distracted, but you managed to click over to the next photo, and the kids gasped in delight.

"His helmet is so cool!"

"It says Rooster!"

"That's his call sign!"

"Red is my favorite color!"

You just smiled softly and laughed. "Should we go ahead and start working on another list of questions for him?" you asked as you slowly scrolled through the rest of the pictures. "He said we can write back to him as much as we want to." When everyone cheered, you handed Oliver a marker and pointed to the board at the front of the classroom. "Let's start making a list."

You listened to all of your students call out questions for Bradley while Oliver wrote them down. Then Violet asked, "Can he send us a picture of his whole jet? From the outside of it?"

You cleared your throat and added, "Maybe he could get someone else to take the picture so he could stand in front of it. For size comparison."

Violet nodded, but you knew you were a fraud. Sure, it would be great for the kids to understand just how massive the F/A-18s were compared to an actual person, but you were the one who wanted to see all of Bradley. You were itching for it now.

Later that night, you drank most of a bottle of wine and did something you promised yourself you'd never do. You logged into your work email account after nine o'clock. You skipped over the handful of unread emails from parents and clicked on the icon to compose a new message. With your liquid courage goading you on, you typed up a response to Lieutenant Bradley Bradshaw and hit send before you could think twice.

Thank you for the photos. They were very enlightening. We especially liked the ones where you were showing off your cockpit. Or I did, anyway. The kids liked all of them and started on another list of questions for you. Good luck getting rid of us now.

We were wondering if you could have someone take a picture of you standing in front of your jet. For size comparison purposes. And also because my students would like to know what you look like. Hearing from you makes our day even better.

You couldn't believe how forward you were being with this man who you'd never even met in person, but you fell asleep thinking about his hands and what they might be capable of.

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This Bradley makes me swoon. I've never wanted to be a fourth grade teacher so badly in my life. There is something that's starting to blossom between them even though they haven't even met in person. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 3

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atyourmerci · 6 months

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☀︎To the light is to the darkness✩

Abby X reader X Ellie

Prologue to vengeance (can be read alone)

☀︎ ☀︎

Summary: Abby is your childhood best friend, you did everything together, taught each other everything. You were utterly infatuated with each other until Ellie Williams enters your world.

Warning: smut, MDNI, porn w lots of plot, innocence arc, mutual pining, lots of sexual tension, mutual masturbation (in the same room, together), fingering if you squint, useless lesbians, lesbian love triangle, abby needs a hug, phoebe bridgers as her own warning, no use of y/n, no physical description of reader

A/N: okay so holy fuck did I get carried away with this one. I didn’t want to leave yall on a cliffhanger but this dynamic deserves more and I don’t want to rush through it. I hope yall enjoy. This chapter is mostly just abby but there will be lots more Ellie in the next chapter promise :)

✩ ✩

“Someone you couldn’t lose. You said we’re not together, so now when we kiss I have anger issues.”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

A relationship that felt more of interlacing two souls into one that resided in two structures. Shared autonomy of mind, breath, word, and body. Unspoken feelings, touches, and stares.

What started in green fields of pink flowers and brown roots ended in dark rooms and pining embraces. Hand shakes turning into interlaced fingers, laughter filled glances turning into tense stares, and experimental pecks turning into open mouthed pants.

The first time you meet abby was at school at 15. Bright eyed and bushy tailed still untainted from the reality of the world around you. You were quite shy in those years, keeping yourself away from the wild hairs of children ready to grow up and take charge. You were okay with the stability of childhood, the sticky sweet feeling of safety and uncharted terror.

Before Abby’s dad had died, before the muscles and long locks of golden blonde hair she was reserved too. Abby was wrapped in a bubble of comfort, a loving community that doted on her. She felt no need to join the crowd of chaos when she had everything she needed.

Well she thought she did…and then she met you.

In class you had your face shoved into a notebook doodling away of ferns and dandelions you had seen in the fields early that day. If it were up to you, you’d spend every last dying breath in the fields, soaking in sunlight and trailing your fingers through the rows of flowers.

Abby sat next to you in class, always too shy to speak up to you. You always seemed so busy, either reading, drawing, or with your head in the clouds, never truly listening to the lecture ahead. She admired your creativity, attention to detail, and the utter sense of unawareness to your surroundings. She wondered why you didn’t talk to the others, you were so inviting, so pretty. She once wished to look like you, how effortlessly magnificent you looked.

She grew too curious, over zealous at the thought of being close to you, understanding you. She knew she had to speak up.

“H-hey you draw pretty cool- I mean- it’s really good…what you draw.”

You had never taken more than a glance at the freckled girl until then. She always seemed just as busy as you, so you never bothered her.

You let out a bellied laugh at the now crimson red faced girl- completely embarrassed by her attempt at recognition.

And that was that. The two of you were inseparable, attached at the hip from then on out.

Abby seemed to understand your weird quirks and odd fascinations. Even when she didn’t, she was there open minded and wide eyed to hear your lengthy ramblings on about nothingness.

Sometimes it felt like you did most of the talking. Not that it was one sided or you wouldn’t let her butt in, but rather she was completely enamored by what you thought. Sometimes all she wanted to do was to hear you talk, you were her favorite person, the own mold of herself.

She wanted to think what you thought, feel what you felt, see the world through your eyes.

As the years went on you only seemed to grow closer to abby as she grew fonder of you.

Some could call it an obsession, the way you treated each other. Not a single thought went by that the other didn’t know. If you were there, so was abby. If you knew something, so did she.

Everyday she would follow you to the fields after school, your special escape you’d learn to share with the other half of your being.

You’d make her lay across the flower ridden fields so you could draw her glistening hair kissed by the whisk of wind. She let her hair grow longer since you’d ask to braid it for her every morning. She liked it short but she wanted to let you have room to make intricate designs and lace them with weeds you’d found.

Abby would playfully nudge you when you’d draw the hump on her nose in the drawings, but you loved it too much to not appreciate it. You loved all the things she couldn’t in herself.

You two spent hours out in the field daily, even when it rained you’d make her dance around like fairies as mud splattered across your shins. Anything you wanted, she’d do as long as it was with you.

That’s when you asked her to try kissing, she’d obliged.

“Have you ever…kissed anyone?” You ask staring off into the cloud painted sky, tall grass framing your bodies.

She lets out a breathy giggle, “no… you would know if I did.”

You shrug, shoulder crashing gently into hers, “I don’t know, maybe it was too embarrassing to say.”

She trails off, “h-have you?”

“No dumbass you would know…” you push your shoulder into her turning to give her a toothy smile, “what if I’m not good when a boy kisses me?”

Her eyes remained trained onto the pillowy cloud, “you can try on me- I-if you want to.”

It was a good idea, she wasn’t going to judge you, she was your best friend, she was only there to help.

“Okay.” And without a second thought your upper body shot up and lent over hers, pressing your lips into her plush pink ones. It was gentle, only a placement amongst the flesh, yet so charged. Butterflies fluttered through your stomach and up to your throat, something you had only felt once before when you and abby went swimming.

Closeness you thought. Being close to someone causes that. How nice it was to be so close to your favorite person, maybe one day you could feel close to someone again.

After that you continued to experiment kissing. At sleepovers you’d talk about the boys you wanted to kiss, then show each other how you would kiss them. It turned into an innocent routine, pecking her before she would leave, kissing her in the fields when you felt the butterflies.

You’d told her about them- the fluttering in your stomach. Whenever you felt them she told you that she wanted to feel them too. Transferring them through the soft pink flesh, she’d say she’d feel them after.

Soon she’d tell you when she got them, to which you’d return the gesture back. As time went on, the butterflies came more often.

People were starting to notice the relationship, started talking about how close the two of you were. You’d shoo off the irrational comments and over zealous accusations, but abby never did. She just didn’t respond.

“Who am I to ask for more? But you’re breathing in my open mouth. You’re the gun in my lips that will blow my brains out.”

Abby started spending the night daily, she practically lived in your room at that point. After her dad died your relationship grew stronger than ever. In such a treacherous time she clung to the only person who truly understood her. Many a nights she spent huddled into a ball in your lap weeping as you smoothed the hair behind her ear and rubbing circles into the grown muscles in her back.

Abby had taken to working her emotions out in physical labor. Now being a solider full time out of school she had grown muscular and more rough. Her heart was still the same for you, but had grown caged off to the people around you.

Her pleasantries for the rest of the community had grown stale, only allowing a few to get near her. But you… there was always an indefinite spot inside her for you.

Since abby was always around now, in the darkness of every night, privacy had flown right out the window. Not that you had minded- there wasn’t much of really anything abby didn’t know or hadn’t seen.

But when that eery sense of familiarity crept up, when the butterflies would come at night.

She had started out sleeping on the extra bed in your room. Before she had practically moved in she’d sleep with you, but since her stay turned to no vacancy she’d taken to given you the last sense of space, even when you hadn’t asked.

In the middle of darkness as the crickets chirped outside the window you’d tell her the feeling had come back, and she’d always agree, and the room would fall silent again.

“Abby?” You call out to a darkened room, illuminated by the shine of the moon.

“Yeah?” She’d call back from the other side.

“Do you ever…fix the feelings of the butterflies. Like make them go away?”

“Uh yeah- sometimes…when it gets bad.”

“I think mine are…bad right now,” it felt embarrassing almost, there was nothing she could do to help, fix your issue. Transferring the butterflies to abby only made them worse sometimes, and you were boiling.

“M-mine too,” she admits.

“You can fix it- if you need to.”

“A-re you going to stop yours?”

“Is that okay?” You say reluctantly into the tense air coating you. Every slight move felt with a million nerves.

“Mhmm,” she responds, a rustling heard coming from her direction.

Soft hums filled the air from the feeling of release you had allowed yourself in the presence of your best friend. Abby’s breathy moans would only follow quickly after your own, never before.

Dual release become a routine. Allowing the sticky sweet sensations of climaxing in the same bedroom of your other half. It became another thing you shared with her, another check on the list of the endeavors you’d participated in with her.

Talks of the butterflies and the unleashing of them never left those four chipping walls. Some things were meant for just Abby’s ears. All best friends must do the same. You’d never heard of others talk of sorts so you sealed your lips, a secret kept like a bird in a cage.

As you both had grown accustomed to the routine things gradually got more intense. Sometimes you couldn’t get the butterflies to fly away even when you tried for hours, panting out whimpers of frustration. Even when they would go away sometimes they would crept back in immediately, your body unable to be satiated.

Abby begun sleeping in the bed with you, to calm the frustrating unnerve you felt after no avail. She’d tell you she wish she could help you, make them go away. She’d do anything to make you happy.

That’s when you started touching yourselves next to each other. The routine was upheld for so long that it felt natural to do it even when she was right next to you. First fully covered, then in undergarments, to finally completely bare.

Seeing Abby’s bare flesh only made it worse. You weren’t stupid, the pieces were falling into place before your eyes. But you hadn’t seen anyone else naked before, maybe it would be the same. Her flesh so pale, her nipples shades of pale pink roses, and the hair that trailed down to her folds as golden as wheat. You had never seen something so magnificent, so beautifully crafted.

That was something you didn’t share with her. The drawings of her bare flesh. You made sure to memorize each chisel, line, and freckle to be as accurate as possible once you got to your notebook. With every piece of her revealed opening thousands of opportunities to draw her art. She was so fucking beautiful.

“When was the first time?” The auburn girl had asked you.

It all had meshed into a blur, what had happened and when it did. When you and abby had started sleeping together it started on opposite ends. Heat not close enough to sting your flesh but the air still tense enough to be cut clean with a blade. As time grew on and the routine becoming daily, the space between you started to close in. Knees brushing as your legs wavered, arms transferring sticky sweat in the blistering heat of arousal.

The inevitable placement of foreheads touching as you watched each other fall apart, watching the butterflies flutter out of her throat with every pant.

From what you could call the ‘beginning’ of sorts, rather an act of mercy, came from her.

You found yourself in the familiar position of unnerve. Rubbing aimless quick circles on your abused clit. It became a matter of principle at the point, needing to fulfill the urge even knowing the outcome would leave you more helpless than before. Abby’s butterflies were far gone, now rubbing lazy stripes down her slit in attempt to not let you feel alone. She never wanted you to feel like she wasn’t completely enthralled by your every move.

Your leg sprawled across her own, wide open, bucking your hips into the air as you let out frustrated grunts, eyes sealed shut in concentration. She just watched. She loved watching you touch yourself. Abby felt like the luckiest girl in the world getting to watch you, kiss you, feel you. She wanted to feel more of you, every atom in your body she’d kiss if you’d allow it.

“Let me help” she said, eyes trained on your open mouth.

Your brain was too fuzzy to even comprehend the depth of the act, so pent up and eager.

“Mhmm,” was all you could muster up. As her calloused fingers transferred from her skin to your abdomen, your body jolted up. You had never been touched by another. Not like this. She took her time running the tips of her fingers from your side to the mound, taking your hand and moving it your thigh so she could replace it with her own.

Something deep in your belly erupted when you felt her fingers meet your clit. A flock of doves released from their cage, a gasping goldfish meeting water. An exaggerated sigh of relief came out as a depraved moan. Every nerve in your body heightened by her gentle touch.

She drew cautious and attentive swipes across the newly swollen bud, watching for when your breath would hitch.

“You’re so warm,” she said studying your face as it contorted in pleasure. Your chin raised high, burying your scalp into the frilly pillows below. She had then studied the flesh around your neck, oh why had she never noticed that. How thin the skin was there, how close she could get to you in that space.

“I-it feels b-better when you do it,” you admit to her, water in her hands, hips grinding into the soft touch of her. “Y-yeah really?” She says, perking up, so pleased with knowing she could make you feel better. She’d do anything to make you feel better.

You let your stagnant hand run down her chiseled chest to meet her mound, her sticky slit pooling at her core. You meant to return the favor, an eye for an eye. “It’s okay- just let me help you.”

You shook your head in agreement, but let your hand rest on the pulsing flesh, you wanted to feel her like she felt you.

With every gentle circle she took you closer to release. It was so much faster when she did it. When you did it together before you would lie there for hours flicking at the raw skin to no avail, but in minutes she had you tipping at your edge.

Her strokes felt akin to the ones on your notebook, gentle and cautious direction, seeking a desirable outcome. You’d thought to picture this, able to recreate this on paper shielded from her eyes. What would she think if she saw them? Maybe you’d grown too fond of the other half of your heart.

“Abby!” You scream out, nearing your pending release.

“Y-yeah? D-does it feel okay- are you okay?” She perks up in concern, helplessly worried she had hurt you.

“Yes- Yes! It- it’s coming,” you pant out, body slick with sweat as your arousal pools below you. A sloppy mess of bodies interlaced with remorseless pleasure.

“Let me feel them, I want to feel them,” abby says inches from your face, intently watching the contortions of your face below her. The butterflies, oh how she wished she could flutter in your tummy as they do so effortlessly.

You cave shamelessly, pressing into the soft pink flesh. You try to keep them stable, but as you reach the cliffs edge you can’t help but moan pathetically into her throat. Your hips thrust into the calloused fingers, chasing the lasting feelings of her, escaping your doom and passing the burden through your lips onto hers.

You did draw of this, and every time after that. It became an obsession, mental images snapshotted to accuracy for replication later.

The routine increased in frequency and intensity. Exploring each other’s most sacred places. She would let you touch her sometimes, but only when she was touching you. Abby seemed more interested in your pleasure than her own. But she cared about you, she never wanted you unsettled. She wanted to be your salvation.

“I ask you how you’re doing and I let you lie. But we don’t have to talk about it, I can walk you home and practice method acting. I’ll pretend being with you doesn’t feel like drowning.”

“Does she make you feel them?”

She asked when it had all started. The truth was you weren’t really sure. There was no definitive date or period of time that signified the beginning or end of it.

Ellie Williams was so…vulgar, erratic, a ticking time bomb. The pieces of the puzzle connected at last when you lied eyes on the auburn haired girl.

She had entered the WLF as gentle as a bomb to a building. Fiery hot attitude, a chip on her shoulder, and drowning green eyes. At first glance she utterly captivated your ever fleeting thoughts.

When she first walked through the corridors of the stadium your eyes fixed on her, staring rudely at her every move. “Who is that, the girl?” You ask the unfazed blonde next to you, too busy working at sharpening a blade, “names Ellie, they say she’s trouble. By the looks of her, checks out.”

“What did she do? Why is she here?” You continue your glare, taking note of the pink scare rippled along the crest of her eye.

You had never drawn anyone other than abby, but the girls features were so strong, the strokes would come naturally in your grasp. A secret muse possibly, even from a far.

“I don’t know- stay away from her. She reeks of trouble,” she’d remark, finishing off the blade and leading you off to a pending mission.

You tried, you really did. She was so compelling, and you? You were a bee to honey. Was she soft unlike her features? Did she speak of the world beyond her? Did she like to watch the clouds mesh into unlikely objects? Did she know of the butterflies and their ever present existence in your lungs?

Your notebook grew of only her, the short frayed hair, the pink scare, the freckles that littered her face. So effortlessly magnificent she was, unknowingly your own secret work of art.

Until abby found them.

Related to this work

Song lyrics: casual , waiting room , cool about it

Moodboard

If you enjoy the childhood best friend trope with abby highly recommend this fic by @kieranscaren she writes beautifully and gave me great inspiration for this work:)

Taglist: @wishbones999 @bookpagecandlescent @littlegingerperson5 @lookforthelight1 @fict1onallyobsessed @shewantstoknow @a-little-bit-of-everybody

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yzzart · 9 months

Note

hii love!! i'm new to your work but i've fallen deeply in love with your writing and your way of writing Tom 😭😭 i absolutely love the actress!au stories so i thought about one myself: where tom and reader are already in a established, public relationship; and they attend a gala or some kind of event together, and maybe one of them had to host or talk in front of the guests and they keep mentioning and talking about each other. and the fans are going crazy after that interaction 💘 thank youuu

"A peculiar moment."

pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.

summary: at an event and being the host, Tom interviews the first person of the night, you.

word count: 1.452!

“You look so beautiful, Y/n!”

A mix of voices asking, clamoring for photos, autographs or at least a four-second attention exclaimed in your ears and of course, echoed throughout the environment. — Also, accompanied by several flashes, one stronger than the other, from cameras; it bothered you a little, but nothing too profound.

After all, besides being used to it, this had already become a routine for you.

Walking, carefully and holding a small part of your dress so you don't trip in your steps, to a large one that separated the fans from a part of the carpet, you are greeted by more screams, compliments and smiles. — Along with several photos of you, posters for "The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes" and other films that featured you, and some notebooks looking for her autograph. — Doing your best, you tried, completely, to pay attention to everyone.

There came a time when you needed to draw on a fan's arm, because she warned you that she was going to get a tattoo; a completely surprising request for you. — There were a lot of people, so paying attention to all of them was a very difficult job, but you did your best to welcome and talk to them. — Also, thanking everyone for the support and so much love.

After a specific period of time, which was a little long, preparations for future brief interviews had already begun, along with the photo sessions; the cameras were already recording and capturing everything that passed in front of their lenses. — A good number of the interviewers were already organized, talking and interviewing some people and some were talking to the event employees.

The environment was magnificently exquisite and dazzling; flowers of different colors, but most of them reddish in pigmentation, possibly intended to match the red carpet and the charming decorations that were present. — Everything was impeccable. — And the lights, lighting matching the color palettes.

Continuing to walk along the carpet, and being careful with your steps in your dress, you greet the photographers, quickly answering questions about your well-being and requesting attention for their respective cameras. — While posing, smiling, in a gratifying way, you looked for a certain person who was scheduled to be present at the event.

Perhaps, it could be considered a little rude as your eyes were roaming, freely and lightly, across the large hallway as the flashes captured your every movement. — Well, just maybe. — But your chest was anxious, more than usual, during your silent and barely disguised search.

"Here, Y/n!" — An unknown voice passed through your ears, removing your thoughts from your attention and consideration, and the owner of the request waved holding his camera; trying to attract your focus and succeeding. — "That!" — His small smile of gratitude became visible.

Even though he directed a smile accompanied by a pose for the camera, fulfilling the photographer's request, your eyes remained on his objective, but in a discreet and not so flashy way. — In each flash, you moved your eyes to the side and observed person by person. — Until, instantly, your eye sockets collided with the image of a familiar person. — He turned around quickly, and finally his eyes met yours.

Holding a microphone, which had a marking saying "host", and standing next to the camera that was in front of him, Tom watched your photo session with a proud smile. — The recording, which was live, did not focus on his entire smile, just a part of it. — He wasn't just watching, he was admiring, contemplating you; he always did it and could never get tired of it.

Tom received an exclusive invitation, considered splendid by you, to host the event; a large and responsible role and mission, too. — It was a great emotion, at the same time you received it, your boyfriend immediately told you; and, of course, you were the first to know about it. — Therefore, one of his fundamentalist roles included interviewing the guests.

Blyth was nervous, that was obvious, but also confident; perhaps, due to the fact that you would be the first person he would interview that night.

Your genuine, radiant smile went through the photos and stood out among them, making them all magnificent, and already being planned to be posted. — And the photographers were more than satisfied. — Before leaving and heading towards the interview point, you moved your head towards some cameras and said goodbye to them.

The small point, which resembled a small stage, where the host's interviews began was not far from where you were; Just a few steps and you could walk without any problems or worries about your dress. — Something you were grateful for, mentally.

It was only when you were going up, on one of the steps of the small stage, that you needed a little help. — Your boyfriend offered his hand towards you, which you quickly accepted, and carefully directed you onto the platform. — And yet another camera focused on you, now, broadcasting everything live.

"Look who we have here." — Remembering the microphone in his hands, Tom brought it to her mouth, at an appropriate distance. — "Good night, y/n!" — He tilted his head, with an inviting smile paying attention to the sparkle in his eyes while directing the microphone towards you.

"Good night, Tom!" — You answered. — "How are you, darling?" —Imitating your gesture, your head is tilted, delicately awaiting his answer.

"Better now and you?" — Tom raised his eyebrows, uttering a answer that was perhaps bold but sincere; and there was no trace of concern, even in front of the cameras.

"I can say the same." — Your eyes roamed to a small point that cried out for your attention, the necklace he wore; the one where your initial was carved. — It was the third time Tom had worn it in public; an action that enchanted you. — "I can actually say the same."

"On a night as beautiful as this, did you come with someone?" — He decided to play, relax with you, acting as if your relationship wasn't public; you laughed, understanding what it was about.

"Oh, unfortunately not!" — Your ears heard a brief laugh from the people working behind the cameras. — "However, i met a guy, by pure coincidence, who has your name and looked like you, but i lost track of him." — Anyone would be impressed by how quickly you created that story, Tom thought it was funny. — "He's an incredible man, in fact, a special man to me."

"From your words, i can see that." — Your boyfriend didn't seem embarrassed at all, he was appreciating your words, even though they were short and also coming from a small joke; Tom had forgotten where he was, in fact. — "I know him?" — You turned your eyes upward, pretending to be thoughtful.

"I don't think so, but it should." — A corner of your lower lips were nibbled by your teeth. — "I feel like he's definitely a charming man in my life." — You shook your head, confirming your words, losing the meaning of the little joke. — "The only downside is that i lost track of him."

"I'm sure you'll find him soon, my dear." — Blyth assured with a beautiful smile on her beautiful face, which was probably accompanied by a reddish tone on her cheeks. — "You're perfect, my love." — In just a few seconds, the joke was put aside; Tom couldn't resist, much less you. — "Always is."

"Just like you, dear." — You approached of the oldest, subtly placing your hand on his arm and placing a kiss on his cheek; it was a little slow, but not so slow as to complain, and Tom would never dare make a complaint. — "See you soon?" — You referred to the end of the interviews.

"Of course, love." — He replied holding your hand; noticing the only ring on your finger, the one he gifted you. — "It looks like someone is going to be reunited with a certain companion." — Tom commented, looking briefly at the camera with one eyebrow raised and helping you get down from the small platform.

Tom admired and followed your steps with his eyes, contemplating your sweet smile when greeting people; If he had the chance, he would spend his entire time watching you. — And even forgetting that it was being recorded and broadcast to thousands of people.

Now, it seemed that there was a mark, so soft and delicate, of a kiss with lipstick present on his cheek, it was not very visible, only if it came very close to his face. — The camera managed to capture and notice the small mark, bringing it into focus.

And your fans brought immense focus to the point of commenting about it on twitter, causing an insane moment for them.

#tom blyth #tom blyth x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coriolanus imagine #the hunger games #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games the ballad of songbirds & snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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krazyyyyyy · 4 months

Text

Forever Longing Solivan Brugmansia /Reader

Synopsis: A small glimpse into Sol's elementary life, where he abruptly meets the single most important person in his life...You

Warnings: Mentions of violence

Words: 2553

Notes: Don't know how many more of these I'll write, but I'm hoping to get around three more done if not a few more.

Hope you enjoy this short story <3

Children’s happy laughter echoed loudly throughout the playground, as they began to spill out of the school building; marking the beginning of their cherished recess time. Kids ran freely playing around with friends, swinging giddily on the swing sets, and continuously going up and down the slide.

Well, all the kids but one…

A young, small, and quiet Solivan stood far away from the other kids, staring at the ground at his feet, avoiding any eye contact with anybody within the area. He knew he didn’t fit in with the others, given his introverted nature, he was considered an outcast amongst his classmates. People tended to overlook him, barely acknowledging his presence even when they were standing right next to him.

He was used to it, though…. He had his drawing supplies and stuffed animals, the only things that really made him feel anything close to happiness. The stuffed animals would never judge him, and, they’d always be around to listen to him when he needed it, an idiosyncratic concept to him growing up in a loveless household.

A soft tap on his shoulder causes him to lift his amber gaze from the ground and into the familiar brown orbs of his teacher, Mrs. Baker. A woman with a skinny frame and curly auburn hair that just slightly exceeded her shoulders. It took everything within him not to scoff at her arrival. She was keen on pushing him towards being more sociable with the other kids, a goal that would always fail in his favor. So why couldn’t she just leave him alone?

She crouched down to his height and spoke to him in her usual soft and steady voice, “Solivan, Why don’t you play with the others today? It seems they're playing a little game of freeze tag, doesn’t that sound like fun?”

Solivan spared a short glance toward where the kids were running wildly at each other, while some others stayed frozen in place, showing signs of annoyance at being frozen; he retracted his gaze back to the ground shaking his head, mumbling a small “No”

Mrs. Baker smiled understandingly at the timid young boy before her, “I know it might seem scary, but give it a chance, you might like it more than you think.” She attempted one last time to try to convince the boy to open up, even if it was just a little.

The boy remained silent, having lost interest in the conversation completely and hoping that his teacher would simply give up and leave him alone for the rest of the recess period.

Thankfully, it seemed fate was on his side, as he heard his teacher sigh next to him before standing up and walking away to a different part of the playground to supervise a group of rather exuberant children. Leaving him alone at last.

The little raven-haired boy sat on the ground, back pressed against the steel fence that separated the playground from the busy streets that lay not far behind. Settling down, Sol pulled out a small sketchpad from his back pocket; a notebook that was filled page to page in his numerous doodles, which he usually did during class time to pass the time.

Pulling out a pencil, Sol began to doodle, head buried in the notebook; heavily embarked on the mini sketches that required his utmost attention. After a while, he finally cranes his head back to admire his work; his sketch was that of a small horse with a small sketched figure of him seated cheerfully on its back.

He beamed at the drawing, proud of his work. While marveling at the sketch, the notepad is quickly ripped from his grasp. Startled and confused, Sol snaps his head up to look at the culprits. Standing above him, were three kids, obviously much older than he was, possibly four grades above him.

Sol was quick to spring up to his feet to try to get the notebook back, but to no avail, as the blond boy who held the item towered over him. He held the sketchbook high above his head, so even if the little boy tried to jump for it, it would prove pointless in the end

“Give it back!” Sol shouted at the kids as he continued to try to reach for what he considered to be one of his only sources of comfort. All three of the boys laughed at him, “Aww, is the little weirdo gonna cry.” a boy with red hair teased, pointing at him.

“You drew yourself riding a horse? What are you, some kind of girl?” The blond boy jokingly flipped through the pages of the book, briefly observing its contents.

“Stop it!” When Sol tried to reach for his sketchbook once again, the blond boy laughed, before tossing the book over to another boy; then that boy proceeded to also flip through the book and laugh before also tossing it to the next boy. Sol found himself playing in this miserable game of monkey in the middle; a game where he could only watch as his book flew through the air above him, out of reach, with no hopes of ever reaching it.

Eventually, Sol got the courage to defend himself from these bullies, and with all the strength he could muster with his tiny form, he tried to shove the bully who had the sketchbook in his possession. But, the shove proved unhelpful, as the bully didn’t even move an inch.

Sol could barely catch his breath before he was harshly shoved to the ground. A sharp pain pulsed through his body as his back was met with the hard ground; Sol opened his eyes to notice that his sketchbook had fallen next to his body, the bully had more than likely dropped it in outrage at Sol’s sudden rebuke. Sol swiftly snatched the book off the ground and held it close to his chest, shielding it from the bullies.

Sol lay on the ground in a fetal position, with his back facing his bullies, arms still tightly wrapped around his sketchbook. There was a sudden sharp pain on his side as a bully directed a fierce kick toward the young boy; another boy directed a kick, of similar intensity, toward his other side, leaving the little boy only to whimper in pain.

The group of bullies continued to relentlessly kick the defenseless boy, not showing any hint of mercy toward him. Tears ran down Sol’s cheeks as he could only endure the endless kicks that the bullies threw at him. He closed his eyes and hoped the boys would soon grow bored with this and walk away, or maybe a teacher would notice this assault and interfere.

It felt like an eternity that the kicking would continue, he almost thought it would never end…

Until a loud voice rang out and suddenly the kick stopped.

“Hey! Leave him alone!” Sol heard the unknown voice shout at the group of boys. He peeked from his position to glance at where the shouting came from; upon opening his eyes, he was met with his saviors back facing him as they spread their arms out wide to shield him away from the sight of the bullies.

“Get outta the way Pipsqueak! Or you're gonna be next!” He heard one of the bullies shout at the person before him. Sol noticed the stranger's visible shakiness as they stayed rooted in their spot in front of him; they were just as scared of these bullies as he was, yet they still chose to throw themselves in the middle just to protect him. He felt a surge of admiration for the stranger; this had been the first and only time someone stood up for him… his heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

“No! I-I won't l-let you!” The stranger's words came out shuddered and breathy as if they were holding back tears. Luckily, their voice had been loud enough to possibly draw the attention of others nearby.

The twisted grins on the bullies' faces faded at the realization, and they looked around the area to see if anyone had caught the drift of what was happening.

“Shit!” Was the last thing Sol heard from them, followed by the frantic pattering of feet in the grass as the bullies quickly fled the scene. Leaving behind two frightened kids as a result.

Sol, who was still lying on the ground, breathed heavily, the fear coursing through his veins still running wild. He flinched when a blurry object suddenly came into his vision. As his vision slowly cleared, he noticed that the object was the outstretched hand of his savior; they looked down at him with a concerned expression, tears still lingering in the corner of their eyes.

Hesitantly, Sol took the hand, which helped pull him to his feet. He stumbled a bit but managed to regain his balance with a bit of effort and help from the person next to him.

“Are you okay?” The stranger asked him, their voice a bit hoarse from all the yelling yet still holding a subtle gentleness to it. Sol looked at them for a second, before shyly shifting his gaze off somewhere else and slightly nodding his head.

They smiled, their gaze landing on the item that Sol continued to hold tightly to his chest. “What’s that?” They pointed out the sketchbook, which, unknowingly to them, had caused the whole ruckus that just happened moments ago.

“... It’s my sketchbook,” Sol murmured under his breath, keeping his gaze away from the person in front of him. He never did well talking to people, never mind kids his age, this person wouldn’t be any different.

Their eyes lit up as he spoke, “You draw?! I wanna see it! Can I see pretty, please?!”

Sol was taken aback by their sudden interest in his sketchbook, his eyes were blown wide at them; he had never shown anyone his work before, nor had anyone ever asked to see it… this person was achieving a lot of firsts for him. He supposed he could show them, considering they had just saved him from a harsh beating.

“Umm… Okay.” Sol pulled the sketchbook from where it rested on his chest to hold it out between him and the stranger. He slowly navigated through the pages, properly allowing the person next to him to take in each piece of art. They were a bundle of excitement, commenting excitedly on almost every single little doodle in the book; it brought a small smile to Sol’s face, knowing that someone enjoyed his drawings just as much as he did.

“These are so good! You're so talented! Do you think maybe you can draw me something?” Sol felt his cheeks flush with an odd, unfamiliar warmth. They wanted him to draw something for them. Him? Out of all the people they could have asked? They wanted him to draw for them…

He fidgeted with the pages of the notebook in his hands, keeping his eyes glued to the ground, nervously. “Sure–”

“Wait! Before I forget, my name is Y/N!” They cheerfully cut him off, “What’s yours?” They talked a million words per second, which was a bit overwhelming, but Sol still found himself intrigued by them.

“My name is Solivan…” He spoke quietly, but loud enough for their newfound acquaintance to hear. “Solivan?” They tested his name out, “Well, Solivan from this day forward you are now my friend!” Sol stared at them dumbfounded. He never had a friend before, but didn’t think it would ever be this simple, yet here he was.

He didn’t get a chance to respond to their declaration when they continued to speak, “I’m thinking maybe a butterfly–No wait! A gecko… no…” They continued to list through a variety of animals, as Sol would stand and watch them in awe. He didn’t know what it was, but he felt some sort of connection to his new friend, it wasn’t unwelcome, but it was still strange.

“Oh, I got it! How about a dove? Mom says those are her favorite!”

Sol raises an eyebrow at them.“Like the bird? Are you sure?”

“Yeah!” They cheer.

Sol only nods his head in response, but a smile remains on his face at their jubilation. He sees the opportunity to speak after your moment of triumph and takes it, “I-um… thank you… for helping me. Not many would’ve done the same.”

They shake their head at him with a smile,“ Don’t mention it. You needed help…so I helped!”, the sincerity in their tone set Sol at ease. He wondered if had truly been missing out. If other kids acted just like Y/N, then maybe talking to others wouldn’t be so bad.

A mature voice suddenly rang out through the playground, catching everyone's attention, “Kids, recess is over! Start lining up with your class!”

“Aww man!” The child next to Sol groans, “Just when we were having fun, too!”. If their definition of fun was getting nearly trampled by a couple of older students, then Sol supposes he had the time of his life… Not really, though, but meeting Y/N was a nice surprise.

Children from all around the playground started to depart, moving to their designated class lines. Y/N started to make their way toward their line before they stopped to turn around to look at Sol one more time. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Solivan! Can’t wait to see the drawing!” And with that, the energetic second-grader gave him one last wave before running over to their class.

Sol gave them a little wave in return, watching as their figure got further and further away. It wasn’t long before he himself started making his way toward his own class, to continue the rest of his day. Of course, his attention wasn’t drawn toward that of his classwork, but rather that of the little dove drawing he spent the rest of the day drawing for that special someone he met.

Sol paid no mind as his art teacher rambled on and on about the importance of elements in art; his focus mainly on the small, worn-out sketch pad that lay open on his desk. He lazily drew his fingers along the delicate pencil marks of his old drawing from way back then.

Out of the drawings he had created during his entire childhood, that little dove that he drew for you in the second grade always held a special place in his heart. He remembers how bright your face lit up when he showed it to you the very next day; you insisted that he kept it in his sketchbook, under the circumstance that you get to view it anytime you want–which you would do on the daily.

He shifted his gaze from the paper to where you sat near the front of the classroom, trying your best not to fall asleep during the lecture. His heart ached for you to look at him the way you did when you were kids, now it was like he was a total stranger to you; another student who simply attended the same art class as you.

But with time, you’d eventually grow aware of his existence, you’d have too.

After all, you were his soulmate, just as he was yours.

#solivan brugmansia #tkatb sol #tkatb #tkatb vn #the kid at the back #tkatb x reader #katb vn #im tired

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reysdriver · 4 months

Note

Hey darlin'! I just saw your one-shots and i REALLY love them!! I need morr about Eddie with Hopper!Reader <33 Please!! A fluff or a smut where the Reader have to deal with her father. Hope you can answer. Have a nice day!! ✨️

-🩷

You and Eddie try to have a chill night in, but it's difficult when you have the world's most paranoid chief of police as a father — eddie x fem!hopper!reader fluff

warnings: none

words: 1.2k

a/n: thanks for submitting a request! I'm sorry it took so long, I've been so busy lately, and I'm sorry I couldn't figure out how to end it lmao but I really hope you like this fic!!

Even though your dad knew about you and Eddie dating, he was definitely not as okay with it as you would have hoped, but honestly more than you had expected.

He had met Eddie a few times since he found out you were in romantic cahoots with the familiar criminal, and despite your fears, they had gotten along quite well despite their history and their differences. But no matter how many things they actually had in common, no father would fully trust Eddie Munson to be alone with his little girl.

“Door open three inches!” Your dad called from the couch. “You know the rules!”

You rolled your eyes, standing up from the bed to open the door to Hopper’s liking.

The door was open three inches, and you swore that it was the draft causing the door to move slightly, but you knew your dad would never believe you.

“Seriously, Dad?” You asked him.

“Rules are rules.” He confirmed. “If you don’t like it, then the boyfriend can go.”

You let out a heavy, dramatic sigh before returning to your boyfriend, who was currently sketching out a Dungeons and Dragons character based on you for his new campaign.

Eddie looked up from his paper when you sat back down next to him. “You can do a lot with three inches, you know?”

You put a finger over his mouth—which he playfully tried to bite—and you shushed him while holding back a laugh at his incredibly stupid, albeit funny, joke.

“He’s gonna hear you, and he’s gonna drag you out of here. Keep drawing.”

He put the finishing touches on his design, then let out a sound of satisfaction over it before turning the notebook so you could see it better.

“I think I did pretty good.” Your boyfriend proclaimed. “She’s almost as pretty as you.”

Oh, how you lucked out with this mysterious dork. You thanked him by pressing a quick kiss on his cheek before your dad became suspicious of you two once again.

“You think I should get it as some ink?” Eddie asked you.

“Like, you want to get it tattooed?”

Eddie nodded, eyes going back and forth between you and the cartoon version of you that he just made.

“Absolutely not.” You replied.

“What? Why not? Do you not love me enough to let me tattoo you on me?”

He was ridiculous, staring at you with big, fake puppy dog eyes and a pleading lip.

“Of course I love you, but as your girlfriend, I also need to stop you from doing stupid things.”

“What if I keep your tattoo separate from the creepy skulls and spiders?”

Well, that was an offer you almost couldn’t refuse. Even though it was tempting, you would never let him know that he can get to you like that, so you played it cool.

“Ask me again in a year.”

His face erupted into a devilish smile and he held his hands to his chest like a cartoon character in love.

“I’m getting a tramp stamp of my girlfriend in a year!”

Before you could protest his proclamation, he pulled you into his arms in what you hoped was just a teasing gesture rather than a genuine expression of excitement for something you were certainly not going to let happen.

Just a second later, your dad cleared his throat very pointedly, which practically frightened you out of your boyfriend’s arms.

“El wants to watch a movie.” He announced. “Come watch with us.”

You sat up and shook your head lightly. “Um, no thanks, Dad. We’ll pass on that.”

Your dad raised an eyebrow and looked at Eddie’s arm around your waist. “You have something better to do?”

It was at that point that you knew him telling you about your sister and the movie was an order, not an invitation. You bit the inside of your cheek and luckily, Eddie spoke up before you could say something snarky.

“A movie sounds great, chief. Count us in.”

“Good.” Hopper said curtly before turning around to the living room.

Eddie stood up and started teasingly pulling you off the bed. You laid down and let out an annoyed groan, resisting his attempts to move you.

“C’mon, babe, movie time.” Eddie encouraged.

“It’s just gonna be The Wild Bunch. That’s one of their favourite movies and I know El’s been wanting to see it again lately.” You mumbled. “I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Well, your dad might never let me back in your house if he thinks I’m trying anything with his daughter in the other room, so we have to. Plus, I like The Wild Bunch too.”

Your face formed an exaggerated frown as you finally got up off the bed.

Eddie smiled and escorted you to the living room. And although you had just started to build up excitement within you for this movie night, it already got worse.

El was in her favourite recliner—the VHS case for The Wild Bunch was on her lap, you called it—but your dad had plopped himself down in the exact middle of the couch. Not only did you have to watch a movie with your family instead of chilling with your boyfriend, but you couldn’t even sit next to him because your dad hates the idea of you having fun.

Before you knew it, you were in a full on stare-down with the Hawkins chief of police.

“Take a seat.” He said passive aggressively.

“I want to sit next to Eddie, Dad. Could you move over?”

He shook his head. “I’m not falling for any of your tricks. I was a teenager once.”

“Yeah, like a thousand years ago.” You mumbled.

The comment was quiet but your dad still heard it.

“Careful, any attitude and I’ll assume it came from the moron and he won’t be allowed back in the house.”

You looked over at Eddie with a defeated expression on your face. He looked back at you, sympathetic and willing to comply—the latter was a complete switch from his normal mood.

Your boyfriend understood completely why your dad was worried about you and Eddie dating, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. Of course, Eddie was willing to do whatever he could to seem like the boyfriend every parent would want for their daughter—he really was, some people just couldn’t look past the exterior shell to see it—so he held his tongue and went along with anything.

The two of you sat down on opposite sides of the couch, separated by your relentless father.

“Alright, El, play the movie.” Hopper said.

He then leaned back and kept his eyes on the television in front of you all.

Eddie soon caught your gaze from across the couch, and he stretched his arm behind his head, oh so conveniently placing it a few inches from your shoulder.

You grinned at him, keeping it subtle, and took his hand in yours.

The two of you watched the rest of the film like that, holding hands in that slightly uncomfortable way, and the night wasn’t as insufferable as it seemed like it was going to be. All thanks to Eddie, of course.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x hopper!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fluff

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misserabella · 1 year

Text

ପ look like an angel ଓ

modern! college ellie williams x innocent reader!

part 2!<3

summary; ellie williams, the college’s most popular dealer takes an interest in you, the most angelic sweet shy girl she had ever landed eyes on. and when the opportunity arises, she makes a move. she wants you to be hers.

cw; +18 content! minors dni!, slight sa (a guy gropes readers ass before ellie punched him), blood, fighting, cursing, mentions of drugs such as weed, consumption of weed, extremely innocent (ellie is pretty much her first time in everything), making out, humping plushies —ellie shows reader how to and watches—, dirty thoughts, tension, teasing, ellie uses pretty names for reader, no use of y/n, dom! ellie and sub! reader, praising, choking, finger fucking (r receiving), thigh riding (r), oral sex (r receiving), hickeys, piv sex, strap on sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, tit playing and sucking, cum eating, squirting…

REMINDER: english is not my mother language so i apologize if there are some mistakes <3 !¡ either ways, i hope y’all like it. <3

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!

ellie williams was not a good person. she was rough, harsh and couldn’t care less about the rest. she liked very few people. and had two friends: jesse and dina. but she also was very popular. she was the best dealer in her college, and had a million of girls fawning over her shoulders for god knows why. she didn’t really care about them anyways.

not when there was you.

you and your beautiful smile, which seemed to brighten up any room you were in. you and your sweet perfume, which made her want to hide on your neck for hours on end. you and your soft voice, bambi eyes and soft perfect hair…

you were shy, always talking with your honey sweet voice that made her bones melt. you were also smart, the smartest girl in your whole course, though you never really showed it off.

you loved white, and soft colors, but you’ll always go for a baby pink. your lips were always shining in a pinkish gloss that distracted ellie a little bit too much, but not as much as the tiny skirts and stockings that you liked to wear on a daily basis.

you looked like a doll, like a goddamn angel.

and maybe you were, ‘cause you were so… innocent.

you didn’t like drinking, or smoking, or parties. you’ve never dared to go to one. just the thought of it gave you goosebumps. and you’ve never even thought about the possibility of taking drugs.

your days were calm. always the same routine. go to college, get to your dorm, study and go to bed. it was simple. but you always had time for yourself though; reading a book, writing on your journal, listening to pop music…

the perfect student. the perfect girl.

and ellie… well. ellie was ellie. a complete opposite from you.

she was kind of a mess. always on her own world. she never took notes in class, instead filling notebooks with her drawings. she still passes with straight A’s her tests though —something Dina couldn’t really believe, always saying that she was bribing the teachers with free weed—.

she wore black. mostly. or things such as sweats and tank tops. and obviously, no makeup. as her father said once… not very girly. but she didn’t really cared. her hair was always in a bun somehow, half up or all the way up. and quiet. she liked to listen, and watch.

that’s why she knew so many things about you even if she hadn’t talked to you once. not once in the whole course even when you sat together on most of your classes.

you were always alone and by the windows, liking the silence and the views that the garden of the school offered you. you didn’t have anything else to look at from that to the chalkboard, since to your right was sitting ellie. and you never looked mat ellie.

you couldn’t, ‘cause your heart would start to beat too fast and your cheeks would flush. at first you thought the feeling in your stomach anytime she would be near was fear. she was quite intimidating. but then you started to notice that you’d stare a little bit too much at her.

she was always listening to music. she also played some sports from time to time with jesse and his friends —she likes to exercise and you could see that in the muscular yet thin body that she had—. she had a scar on her right eyebrows and the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, always rimmed in a reddish color. she had freckles too, and auburn hair that shone when the sun hit her. she was popular. way too popular. with all the girls of your class head over heels for her. you would blush anytime they’d gossip about her, talking about her muscles, and her tattoo, and…

her hands.

the girls had said something about her hands, about how good the looked, and ‘how good they could make them feel’. you didn’t really knew how her hands would make them feel good… maybe if ellie played with their hair?

also, having them around their necks. you’d frowned. wouldn’t that hurt? i mean in the series that your dad watched, it didn’t look alright… since characters would die by it and stuff.

but you had to agree that her hands were pretty, nails short and slim large fingers.

you looked away when you felt heat rising to your cheeks.

shit. you were staring again.

why were you feeling so hot all of a sudden? you were feeling kind of sticky too.

you sighed in relief when you heard the class being dismissed, quickly getting everything on your backpack to leave the class. ellie got the last goodbye of your perfume when you dashed by.

you were quick to get to your locker, opening it to show cute decorations and pictures, along with books and notebooks.

you were putting some stuff inside your backpack when suddenly a voice startled you.

“hey beautiful.” you turned around to face a boy with brown eyes and short wavy brown hair. you flushed, ‘cause you didn’t know him at all, and you were shy with strangers. he smiled. “i was just wondering if you’d be up to letting me take you out on a date.” your eyes shot open. “you know… you could always wear one of those pretty skirts for me. would make it so much easier once we get in the back of the car.” he stepped closer, and you backed up until your back was hitting your back.

“uhm… i don’t think…”

“come on, don’t be a prude. you’re basically asking for the attention, i can almost see your whole fucking ass.” you squealed when you felt his hand land on it, grabbing your skin and harshly digging his fingers. you were about to push him away when someone else was doing it for you.

the boy cursed when he received a good solid right hook straight to his nose, making it start bleeding.

“she said no, fucking asshole.” and then your heart was beating like crazy again, ‘cause i’m front of you was standing ellie williams, with a scowl on her face and her knuckles bathed in blood. you stared at her, and then at the boy. “if you wanted a little bit of skin contact you should have asked me. i have plenty to give.” she smirked, devilish, before punching again.

when dina and jesse finally came up to her to calm her down, the guy was already bleeding on the floor, and her knuckles were burning up.

but she wasn’t really listening to their worried questions, ‘cause she was looking at you.

“are you okay?”

after that, you and ellie grew closer. she made you feel safe. she kept you safe. no more guys had even dared to stare at you. but people seemed to approach you more since they’d seen you around her. something ellie really didn’t like.

“ellie…, you need to stop being so mean.” your doe eyes were staring at her, your soft voice making her heart beat faster. “they were just being nice.” you said as a pair of girls had come up to you to tell you how much they loved your outfit.

“a little bit too nice.” she muttered, one of her arms surrounding your shoulders to pull you flush close to her side. your stomach jumped. “although is true, you look really pretty today princess.” she smiled, and you blushed.

you stuttered and a smirk took over her lips.

“why are you getting so shy about now, hm? look at me sweet girl.” she said, leaning closer and down to catch your eyes.

“nothing. thank you ellie.” you gave her a sweet and shy smile. and she had to stop the urge to just kiss the hell out of you then.

fuck, had you ever even been kissed before?

“you’re welcome, angel.”

you opened the door to your dorm room, and ellie thought she might as well be a genius, ‘cause of course this was heaven and you were indeed an angel.

it smelled of your sweet perfume and cherries —probably due to the difusor on your desk—. it was filled with pink and books, and cute pictures everywhere. you had even your own little plants sitting on your window. they were being well taken care of, petals on full display and color. trinkets were laying everywhere, and it was clean and tidy. you even had plushies on your bed. ellie’s heart squeezed when an image of you hugging them to sleep went through your mind. jesus christ. you were so cute…

ellie just wanted to move in. stay in there forever. change her place with your plushies and hold you herself.

ellie took a seat on your bed, and soft blankets received her. you looked at her, and a happy smile crossed your plushy lips.

“what are you smiling at, hm?” she inquired.

“dunno. just… like you here.” you shrugged, cheeks flushing.

“i like being here too, baby.” she smiled and you blushed.

you two spent some time together watching some films, and talking. ellie loved to hear you talk, even if you were sometimes a little bit too shy to try.

now, ellie was smoking.

of course you knew she smoked, you really didn’t mind her doing it on your room as well. you also knew that ellie dealt weed. everybody knew. but you had never gone anywhere near it. so this was a first time for you. it interested you though. you’d always been scared of it. in the end it was a drug and drugs were harmful, but this one… this one seemed good. it made ellie feel good. more relaxed. and it made her happy. laugh more. talk more. get closer…

she always made sure to not let the smoke of the blunt even go near you, always blowing it away from you. you still could smell it around the room, that earthy calming smell now fusing with your own. ellie couldn’t love more the idea of leaving something ‘hers’ in your room, to leave a mark.

she was laughing, but her heart was slow, you could feel it on your back as she had pulled you in between her legs. you couldn’t help but blush at the touch. she couldn’t keep her hands to herself. not with you. you were as soft as she had imagined, and warm. so warm it was making it hard to hug you closer. and being high only made it worse.

“ellie…” you said, your eyes on the blunt in between her fingers.

“what is it pretty girl?” she muttered, putting away with a strand of your hair that had fallen on your face.

“can i… try it?” you muttered, eyes shiny and full of curiosity.

“you want to try smoking? you sure about that baby?” she made sure, and you nodded. “okay.” she smiled, and gently passed you the blunt. her hands were so warm it made your cheeks flush. you liked it. liked it when she kept you close. your stomach did funny things when she would touch you. “you need to inhale softly, alright, we don’t want you choking.” you nodded once again. slowly pulling it to your glossy and pink lips. you took a soft drag, making your throat burn. you felt the need to cough, but you waited it out, blowing out the smoke again. ellie’s smile grew. “there she is. atta girl.”

you squirmed at her praise, whole body running hot. you two shared the joint ‘till it burned out. taking soft drags that slowly became deeper and harsher. your mind was getting fuzzy, and your body was tingly. also ellie had started to draw little circles with her thumb on your thigh, caressing your skin. and you were shaking.

“how you feeling, baby?” your eyes were glassed over, and half lidded, rimmed in red.

“feels good els.” a silly smile crept up your face and she smiled as well.

“yeah?”

you nodded, snuggling into her chest. and ellie knew that jesse and dina would have probably teased her about how her whole face flushed red.

shit. she was in deep.

you loved it. how she made you feel. how your heart raced and your tummy filled with butterflies. but there was something else too, this throbbing in between your legs, this uncomfortable and warm feeling that had you squirming with every new pass of her thumb over your skin.

“you okay, pretty girl?” she inquired, taking notice of your little frown.

“hurts.” you muttered in a little hurt voice that had her heart shaking.

“hurts? where does it hurt baby?” she inquired, and your cheeks flushed. you hid your face on her chest and she cooed. “hey.” she took your chin in between her index and thumb to make you look at her. she almost cursed. your eyes were half-lidded and hazy, glossed over. your lips looked plushy and red, and your cheeks were flushed in crimson. “what is it?” she asked you again, this time harsher. there was something in her eyes that made you squeeze your thighs together. she saw it. “aw… baby…” she hummed and you whimpered. “does your little pussy hurt?” you nodded, flushing impossibly red.

“uh-huh…” you hiccuped. “every time you are around.” you said, and ellie almost choked. oh god. shit. fuck.

“every time i’m around? i leave you hurting every time i leave baby?” you nodded once again and she couldn’t help but curse under her breath. “want me to help you make it stop?” and one last time, you nodded. “okay. why don’t you help me take this off first, hm?” she inquired as her hands slowly made their way under your skirt —which had riled up your hips— and onto your beautiful little cotton panties. “that’s it, good girl.” she praised when you did, helping her push them down your thighs and legs, and you couldn’t help but whimper, cheeks burning, ‘cause it made the pain in your cunt worsen. “shh, it’s okay baby.” she hummed, her hand back to your thigh to caress your skin. “fuuuck. you’re so wet, angel.” she groaned when she took a glimpse at your panties and pussy, completely soaked. she just wanted to fucking ruin you with her strap, have that pussy of yours leaking on it and cumming over and over again. she wanted to ruin you. but she knew she couldn’t. not yet. you didn’t even know what being turned on was until now. she would scare the shit out of you. she had to take it slow… patience ellie. patience… “why don’t you choose one of your plushies out for me, hm?” she asked, and your eyes fell on your plushies. it was a quick response. you went for your favorite. mr hops. your little white beautiful bunny. “atta girl. now i want you to push it against your pussy baby.” she muttered against your neck, and you shivered. you blushed, even more when when ellie saw your shyness decided to cup your hand with hers to guide the plushie in between your legs. you couldn’t help but moan when the nose of the bunny bumped against your puffy little button. “that’s it.” she praised. “move it just like that baby.” she smirked when she saw how you unconsciously started to drag it up and down on your cunt, humping the plushy. your eyes were pricking with tears. ‘cause your whole body seemed to be exploding in pleasure, and it felt so good… her hand helping you with her movements, her voice praising you and calling you good girl every time you’d moan and whimper…

shit.

“ellie…” you whimpered, feeling pressure building up in your stomach. something felt about to snap. and you couldn’t stop moaning. it was as if you were reaching out for something you didn’t know what it was but needed.

“you gonna cum pretty girl? of course you are… such a good girl grinding her pretty cunt on her plushy. look at you. so fucking beautiful. let go for me baby, let go.” your vision went dark, and your ears rung. you couldn’t stop moaning and whimpering, your hips unconsciously rocking against mr hops to ride out your first ever orgasm. it was like nothing you’ve experienced before. it was like dying and coming back to life at the same time.

ellie groaned, holding you through it, your back arching against her chest as you fell apart. shit. she almost came on her own pants.

“that’s it, princess. now breath for me. you did amazing angel. so good for me.” she left a soft little peck on your forehead as she left soft rubs on one of your thighs. “good girl …”

after that night you had tried to take care of yourself like ellie had taught you. you’d hump your little bunny every night after she’d leave, trying to not make much noise so your flat mates on the other dorm rooms wouldn’t hear you. but you couldn’t make yourself cum anymore. not if she wasn’t there with you. you had started to wonder if instead of your plushy ellie would ever make you feel good too. touch you there.

one night, you were huffing, grinding down on your bunny unable to cum —like every other night—. every time you’d get close, the feeling would fade away and leave you tearing up and rolling in your bed without knowing how to make the ache go away.

that’s why, when you couldn’t take it anymore, you got up on your wobbly legs, you put back on your panties and pj shorts and went to her dorm. she opened after you left two knocks on her door.

ellie’s face completely changed when she saw the tears falling down your cheeks.

“woah, hey, hey…” she cooed when you jumped to her arms. “you okay sweet girl? what happened?” you hiccuped and held you closer to her chest.

“ellie please help me…” you whimpered and she pulled you into her dorm, closing the door.

“what is it baby? what’s wrong?” she rubbed your back as you squirmed.

“i can’t… i can’t make myself feel good anymore like you taught me. it hurts…” you cried.

“aw, baby… you can’t make your pretty little pussy cum, hm?” she cooed, and you nodded. “mr hops can’t make you feel good anymore?” your heart skipped a beat at her soft teasing.

“stop teasing me… it’s mean.” you pouted, and she falsely frowned and mimicked you.

“am i being mean to you baby?” she continued on her teasing. you nodded and she cooed. “you poor thing…” her thumb pulled from the pout on your face, pressing against your bottom lip.

your heart seemed to skip a beat, her touch sending shivers down your spine.

“my poor pretty little thing.” you blushed. “aren’t you sweetheart?” your stomach jumped, her voice low and silky. it was making you feel silly.

“don’t do that…” you shyly muttered and she smirked.

“do what?”

“talk to me like that. it’s making my stomach feel all funny.” you sighed, feeling your face and neck burning up.

“your stomach?” you hummed. “is it a bad funny or a good funny?” she stepped just the littlest bit closer. and that feeling went south from your stomach, down and down and down and… you gasped a little bit when her free hand took a hold on your hip. she wasn’t even touching you and yet you felt like melting under her fingertips.

“good.” ellie’s fingers squeezed your hip. she hummed, low, and you almost trembled.

“does it feel good too if i do this?” she inquired as she leant closer, leaving a soft kiss on your cheek. you nodded. “and this?” another one to your jaw. her face didn’t pull away, her lips trailing lower when you nodded once again. you let out a little whine when she kissed over your pulse, your head tilting to give her more room. it felt too good. m

“feels good els…” you muttered and she almost groaned. fuck. your voice was airy, and so needy…

“you know… there are places where it feels even better.” she said, and your eyes shined with curiosity.

“yeah?” you breathily inquired and she hummed.

“want me to show you?” you nodded, and she smiled before leading you to your bed, where you two sat. “baby, have someone ever given you a kiss?” you frowned, but before you could talk she was getting the doubt out of your head. “on your lips honey.”

you blushed. so much you swore you’d actually burst in flames. you looked into her eyes and then away as you shook your head. ellie’s chest felt lighter. no one had ever kissed you before. fuck.

“want me to give you one?” your eyes went back at hers, and then fell to her lips. they were so pretty it hurt. and you knew they were soft. you’d seen people kiss before. obviously. but you had always been too shy to even think about receiving one. and now ellie was offering to kiss you. for the first time in your life. and your heart was going crazy. breathing was getting harder. you nodded again. “nuh-uh, speak up pretty girl.” you were burning up.

“i want it.” you begged, and her cunt throbbed. shiiiiit. she had thought about this before. you begging for her to fuck you, to let you cum all over her fingers. even dreamed about it. but it would never compare to the actual you.

“good girl.” she said, and your thighs shook. there was wet sticky slick pooling in between your legs and making a mess of your thighs. and the throbbing of your needy pussy was making you ache. it hurt. even more when she called you that. you whimpered when you finally felt her lips against yours. ellie groaned when she heard you, pulling you closer. at first she didn’t move her lips, after a couple of seconds slowly starting to guide you into the kiss. your hands fisted her shirt, and your eyes squeezed closed. it was a strange feeling. but it felt good. too good. “open your mouth for me, baby.” you followed her orders, a little and muffled moan leaving your lips when her tongue pushed inside. one of her hands cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss. you were going for more when she pulled away. fuck. ellie was dying. she was finally kissing you. and you felt amazing. “shhh.” she stopped you, and your hazy eyes met hers.

“ellie… please.” you tugged her close.

“you want more, pretty girl?” she inquired, and you nodded, once shaking parting your lips for her. this time the kiss was deeper, if it could get any more than before, wet strokes of her tongue filling your mouth. you were being laid down on her bed, hair all over her pillows and thighs open for her.

you were letting out the most beautiful sounds, and she was getting way too horny.

“fuck. you don’t know what you do to me.” she groaned, eyes taking you in, you and your swollen glossy lips and hazy reddened teary eyes. you were flushed red, and your breath was hot.

“feels good.” you muttered, shaking under her touch, her hands now touching your hips from under your shirt.

“yeah?” you hummed. “well… there’s another place were kisses feel even better.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” she smiled, one of her hands traveling downwards. passing your belly button and down to your shorts. “right here.” you gasped when you felt her hand softly cupping your cunt over your peeking pretty cotton panties, making your eyes squeeze shit when you grinned down on her hand, seeking relief. you were soaked. “fuck baby…”

you hiccuped. “it hurts.” you pouted. you were throbbing.

“i know baby, i know…” she cooed, and you nodded. “want me to make the pain go away? want me to kiss it better for you, hm?” your cheeks flushed red. ellie wanted to kiss you there. you nodded, quickly, shyly, and she couldn’t help but groan when you whispered a little ‘yes please ellie.’ she was sucking marks down your neck as her hands pulled from your pj and underwear, making you gasp as the cold air of the room hit your drooling pussy. “fuck, angel. you’re so wet…” she said as she took a glance of the string of slick that connected your cunt to your underwear. soon enough, her thumbs were parting your lips to take a better look at you, and you were covering your face, ‘cause ellie was looking at you as if you were a fucking meal and she was starving. your back arched when you felt it. the long and torturously slow drag of her tongue thought your folds, lapping at your arousal.

“ellie!” you screamed, a moan ripping your throat. she left a little kiss to your clit before sucking it, making you whimper and gasp for air, your hands flying up to her hair and making her grunt against your cunt. she pulled you closer to her face, pulling your thighs over her shoulders and laying one of her hands down on your lower stomach to keep you pressed against the bed and still for her to devour. she had been dreaming about this for months. and knowing that no one has ever had you like this. never kissed you, or touched you, or made you moan expect her had her soaking her boxers and eating you out with need.

you couldn’t stop moaning, and whining, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you gasped. ellie was telling the truth, it felt so much better than kissing. your thighs were shaking and your pussy was leaking on her tongue. it was the first time you’d ever felt this euphoria… this kind of pleasure…

and then you felt it. her tongue pushing inside of you, stretching you out. it was a new feeling. you had never felt anything like it. you’d never touched yourself. always too shy to even try, to oblivious to know the reason why your pussy would throb around the emerald eyed. and now ellie was helping you get rid of that aching feeling that tortured you every night, and you were falling apart.

“that’s it… pussy so sweet and wet…” she said, one of her fingers teasing the rim of your hole, pushing in just the slightest. you let out a scream when her middle finger pushed inside, your vision filling of colors and spots when she hit a spot deep inside as she curled it, making you sob and moan, tugging from her hair. “you sound so good. shit, angel. can’t wait to have you falling apart, creaming all over my fingers.” you didn’t know what she meant by that, but her finger was fucking into you, and you couldn’t even think.

she sucked on your puffy clit, slowly fucking in and out of you and relishing in the wet sounds that your pussy was making for her, adding another finger when she had stretched you out enough. they filled you to the brim, and so good you were choking. “ellie, ellie, ellie…” you moaned over and over again as she started to quickly curl her fingers against your g spot, making the knot growing on your stomach tighten. “ellie, i’m…, i’m…”

“you’re gonna cum, sweet girl? gonna cum all over my face?” you nodded, feeling that warmth bubbling up in your stomach, about to snap. “go ahead baby, let go for me.” your back arched as you gushed all over her fingers and lips, and she fucked you through it, humming at the taste, lapping at you like a starved women. she cleaned you up, not leaving a single drop of your come behind, helping you ride it out until you were whimpering due to overstimulation. she lapped at your sweet and sticky cum, licking clean your pushy and her fingers as she popped them inside her mouth, moaning. her chin and lips were shining, and she had this hazy look in her eyes that made your heart jump.

you opened your mouth for her when she kissed you, whimpering at the taste of your own arousal.

now that you had felt ellie’s tongue and fingers on you for the first time, you understood what those girls in your class meant by how good her fingers could make them feel…

her mouth was good too. too good. and you couldn’t stop starting at it, and her lips… and her hands. god. now you too wanted to know if they’d feel good around your…

“you’re staring pretty girl.” she smirked, and you looked away with your cheeks burning up. she chuckled, cupping your cheek to make you look at her. “nuh-uh. don’t hide from me. what is it, hm?” you looked into her emerald eyes, her thumb on your bottom lip. you shook your head, burning up. “you’re not gonna tell me?” you shook your head once again. “that’s mean angel, i want to know what’s going on inside that pretty little head of yours.” you saw her lean in. “you’re gonna make me have to get it out of you?” you shivered when you felt her breath hit your jaw, and then your neck, lips soft against your skin.

you sighed, your hands gripping her shoulders as she started to tug from your shirt, your nipples hard due to your arousal as she pushed it over your head, leaving you completely exposed to her hungry eyes.

“ellie…” you whimpered when her mouth latched to your breast, sucking the bud into her mouth and leaving marks on them. and she tugged you closer, making you fall on one of her legs, the denim of her trousers meeting your cunt.

her hands landed on your ass, grinding you down on her leg and making you moan. you felt embarrassed to speak up. completely caught in the feeling of her touch.

“come on baby. speak up.” she smirked, seeing you desperately grinding down on her thigh.

“want you ellie… want you.” you whimpered, and she hummed, sucking hickeys on your neck.

“you want me pretty girl? want me to stretch your little pussy on my cock? bet you’d look so cute riding my strap for me, cumming over and over again.“ you let out a needy moan. nodding.

“yes please, want it ellie, want it…” you begged.

“lay down and open your legs for me, baby.” she said, giving you a deep kiss before leaving you in the bed to go get her black strap-on. you were flushing red, and fidgety. and your eyes widened when she got back. ‘cause that was too big. her fingers had made you feel so full already… you couldn’t imagine how that would make you feel.

you squirmed when she was back in between your legs after having discarded her jeans and own shirt, leaving her in her boxers and sports bra. you were flushing and trying to not look at her, ‘cause she looked so hot it was impossible to take. she had abs, and such a pretty waist… her thighs were strong and big, and you couldn’t help but wish to be on top of her once again riding them, this time without her jeans on the way.

“look at me angel, let me see you.” she muttered, and your eyes were back on hers. “you’re so fucking beautiful.” your cheeks were red, and your thighs were trembling under her hands. a moan left your lips when she leaned down to kiss you. her tongue pushing into your mouth and you melted, feeling her body slot in between your legs and the plastic of her strap hit your naked soaking pussy. your hips pushed against it, and she thrusted against you, making the tip bump against your clit. your back arched, and your nails dug on her shoulders.

“please, ellie… please…” you cried out. needing more.

“what is it baby? what do you want?” you were throbbing, crying at her teasing, feeling the tip sliding in between your folds and hitching at your needy hole. “speak up. want you to tell me what you need.”

“need it inside…” you begged, your voice desperate and broken, completely eaten alive by your embarrassment.

“atta girl. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” the breath hit punched out of your lungs when she pushed in, your slick making it easy to slide in the tip. she went slow. “good girls get what they want.” you whimpered, feeling your pussy stretch to take her inside. it hurt. but it hurt so good you couldn’t help but buck your hips up for more. “aw, want more darling? want more of my dick? so greedy…” she smirked, seeing your eyes roll to the back of your head when she pushed all of it inside in one go, hitting your cervix. your back arched, and her mouth was sucking bruises on your neck and chest, making you see stars. “that’s it. atta girl. taking me so good…” she groaned, the strap brushing her own clit over her panties. “good girl baby, being so good for me…” tears were spilling from your eyes from the pleasure. her praise making you tighten around the strap and sucking it right back in harder when she tried and pull out to thrust inside. “so fucking tight, shit…” she cursed, and you whimpered, feeling the tip brush that spot that had you babbling out.

her hips slowly started to pick up pace, until she was properly fucking you, wet squelches coming from your cunt, which was impossibly wet. the strap slid easily i between your walls, and rubbed ellie just were she ached the most. you two were a mess of kisses, moans and hands everywhere. your hips fucked against hers, trying to beg for more.

“ellie, ellie please…”

she groaned at your need. “you’re driving me insane.” her hips snapped harder against yours, her cock plunging inside of you deeper and harsher, making it impossible to not scream. and she shut you up the only way she knew how.

your sight went white when you felt it. the hot grip of her hand around your throat. and ellie couldn’t help but groan when you were gushing on her strap, letting out little broken moans that got cut off with every harsh thrust.

“fuck. this is what you wanted, baby? wanted my hand on your neck, hm? my poor little thing just wanted to be choked.” you moaned, your nails digging on her back as she started to piston inside of you, making your orgasm grow and grow…

“ellie! ellie stop, something’s gonna come out, something’s gonna…!” you screamed as the pressure on your lower stomach grew and warmth liquid spread all over your thighs, soaking the strap and the sheets under you. your body was being filled in pleasure. you were falling and falling and falling. you were choking on it. there was no end.

ellie grunted and fucked you through it, reaching her own orgasm when she saw you squirt all over her cock. her cum had completely soaked her boxers by the time she had stopped rutting into you, the two of you panting for air.

and even with your hair made a complete mess, your eyes red with tears and your lips swollen by your kisses… you looked like an angel.

a/n; 🫨😵‍💫

ellie williams masterlist! <3

xxx

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honeysmoonn · 9 months

Text

just the sweetest thought of drawing on luke’s back…

warnings: use of y/n once, barley any dialogue, flufffff

a/n: oh lord… this was meant to be very short but i got carried away😭i hope to improve my writing skills in the near future! pls lmk how you feel abt this and pls pls sent requests!!!

sneaking out past curfew was against camp rules, everyone knew this. but luke was a counselor, couldn’t he get a free pass to see his girlfriend? you and him thought yes. there were countless nights the two of you had either snuck out to sit by the lake or venture to each others cabin for the night just to have to sneak out early the next morning.

of course, all this sneaking around had its moments of regret. once you had comfortably situated yourself beside luke when a kid woke up claiming she had a headache. in the dim lighting of the cabin at night all she could see was the unfamiliar silhouette of a woman in luke’s bed. she let out a scream, calling for luke, claiming there was a “scary lady” in his bed only to find luke laying next to said scary lady. the two of you tried your best to keep her from waking the others, but it was too late. the once calm hermes cabin was bustling with fearful campers. you were quick to jump out of the bed and assured everyone that you were not there to hurt them, the girl raised an eyebrow at you.

it was unfortunate, but you and luke were forced to reveal your secret to the hermes children. on the bright side, neither of you had to worry about someone seeing you now.

tonight, you drug you slippered feet over the dirt path leading to the hermes cabin wearing a sweatshirt that wasn’t your own snd that smelt like campfire smoke and wood. it was a size too big for your frame, but like has left it over in your cabin too many times to be an accident so you decided to keep it.

everyone was already sleeping, everyone but luke. he sat on his bed impatiently waiting for you to show up. it had become second nature to the two of you, and luke could barley lay down without the comfort of you beside him. his ears had become ultra sensitive to any sounds, waiting to hear the familiar gentle knock on the window closest to his bed; yet the only noise was the soft snoring or the rustling of bedsheets from the other hermes children sleeping soundly.

his hands found their way to a battered and bruised notebook sitting on his bedside table. you, apollos daughter, the artist, had left your notebook in luke’s room once again. to you, it was a simple and annoying show of your own forgetfulness. but to luke it was so much more. at lunch in the mess hall you would often sketch, but you didn’t let anyone see it. to be honest, luke did really want to see what you were up to all this time but he respected your decision for privacy. but this, your notebook in his room meant (at least to him) that you trusted him. and that’s what mattered most to him.

a short and simple sound of three knocks on the glass window made luke immediately jump up. your figure stood outside the window and his face got red and hot upon seeing his big hoodie over your body. his hands move almost like clockwork as they unlock the window and slide it up, taking a moment to look down at you. you smiling up at him, you who already knows what he’s about to say.

“the doors unlocked, y’know.” he says in a hushed tone as his hand reached out to you. “always is for you.”

you smiled up at him, taking his and in yours. “i know,” once inside luke didn’t waste anytime before pulling you into his strong and comfortable embrace.

“i missed you.” he mumbled into your hair, pressing ghosts of kisses against your skin. his delicate hands expertly traveled down your body to rest on your waist. “i’m literally like, crazy for you, girl.” in between his words like couldn’t stop pressing kisses to your forehead as he pulled you down to the mattress.

a muffled groan came from only one bunk down, causing you to stifle your breaths. luke’s love struck eyes looked up at you as he situated himself on top of the thin sheets. “i’m crazy for you, too.” you pressed a kiss onto the space where his skin and think shirt met, a silent gesture that luke immediately followed up to, peeling the material from his body.

even after months of dating luke still fell victim to the way your eyes graced his body. he felt as if he was one of the gods the children at camp worshipped from the way you kissed all the right spots and told him all the right things. son of theives, and yet you were still the one who stole his heart.

luke went to lay on his stomach, the way he always did with you. but instead of you under him, he frowned when you didn’t lay next to him. “baby,” he whined in a sleepy voice and you felt your heart flutter.

“you trust me, right?” you fingers gently traces the muscles around his shoulders. truth be told, luke trusted you with his life. if the world was crumbling to the ground you would be the one luke would run to. the stars could fall from the sky at any moment and luke would grab them and give them to you. if he had the power, he would make you a goddess. he trusted you to be a better immortal than any of them ever had.

he nodded. “of course, always.”

you hummed a soft response. luke wanted to stay awake, he wanted to see what you had in store for him, but with sleep threatening to plague his mind and the comforting feeling of you sitting on his back was enough to knock him out for the night.

there was no such thing as sleeping in while living in the hermes cabin, so luke rose as the sun did. not to his surprise, you had slipped out the door before he could kiss you good night.

if it weren’t for chirons glares or the endless jokes from the hermes kids and your half-siblings, you would spend every night with luke, really.

and yet this morning luke woke up to the right side of his bed empty and a post it note stuck to his forehead. the yellow paper read: “you fell asleep before i left, see you tomorrow xoxo” reading it made luke feel weak with admiration, he carefully folded up the paper and slid it into his pillowcase.

sun shone through the tallest tree tops down onto camp half blood as the early risers began to scatter themselves across camp, participating in multiple activities. the weekend were always dullers, yet far more calm then the usual routine of the regular week. one of the preferred activities for some of the older campers was the occasional weekend getaway to the lake. there was a secluded lake clearing just a small walk off from the path, hidden deep in the woods; but the older ones liked to take their own days off, basking in the sand or wading in the cool water.

today, both you and luke had been invited by clarisse to spend the day together at the clearing. you obviously agreed, and you spent the whole morning packing a day backpack for yourself and luke, filled with water bottles and snacks and towels, not forgetting luke’s favorite bikini of yours wore under your camp shirt and cutoff denim shorts.

just before the clock struck 9am, luke found himself waiting for you to finish doing your hair before heading out for the day. “i dunno,” you continued you rambling to your boyfriend as he admired you through the mirror. “maybe sword fighting isn’t for everyone. especially not me, i mean, archery i can do. hand to hand, yeah sure. but sword fighting.” after making sure your hair was suitable for swimming and sitting in the sun all day you turned to luke, who looked at you as if you had just graced him with the blessing of the sun.

“i think your good.” he shrugged, picking up your backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, his hand locking with yours out of instinct as you began to walk.

you shoved his shoulder playfully. “you’re my boyfriend, you have to say that.” he sent you a grin back.

the walk to the clearing was peaceful. birds singing to each other while butterflies told secrets to the flowers. as you got closer you could already hear the joyful sound of your friends laughing and already playing in the water.

walking out of the forest onto the rocky ground you and luke were immediately greeted by chris, dean, and clarisse with smiles and laughter. while you hugged your friends hello luke took the liberty of taking your light yellow beach towel and lay it out for you for later. of course, he knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew that right after you exited the cool and refreshing water your body would shiver and he would be the one to wrap you in his arms to warm you up.

leaving your tee shirt and shorts of the rocks you patiently waited for luke to do the same. he made a silly face then shed the layer of cloth covering his chest.

much to his surprise, chris and dean burst out into laughter. luke’s brow furrowed. “what?” he looked to you for reassurance, and you just smiled.

“i think you got a little something on your back, luke.” chris snickered while clarisse shoved him roughly, that shut him up. luke craned his neck, trying to see what was on him.

you grabbed his shoulders and turned his back to you. his skin was tan from the summer sun, but on top of that was an array of doodles and drawings that covered him from his shoulders to lower back. his muscled back was now delicately traced over with by flowers and stars. the sun and moon kissing each other good night. in your mind it had been you and luke.

luckily, your friend blair came equipped with her own digital camera. “oh! y/n, luke, smile!” she exclaimed. you smiled at the camera with a hand on luke’s shoulder, his back was to the camera but the tattoos decorating his skin were radiant in the sunlight leaking through the trees. it hadn’t been your intention to draw on luke’s back, but once you started you couldn’t stop, artistic mind letting all your emotions fade onto luke’s shoulders and spine. you drew you and him as flowers, as trees, as stars. there was always an invisible string tying the two of you together throughout every universe, every life time.

blair was convincing enough to have chiron to let her print the photos from that day at the clearing. she gifted you and luke the best photo of you posing next to your art, luke’s hand in yours and you grinned happily. after spending another night in luke’s bed, you left the photo on his nightstand.

he hung the photo on his wall next to his pillow to remind him of not only how talented you were, but how much you loved him, to be able to grace him with your talent.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #percy jackon and the olympians #percy series #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fluff

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traveler-at-heart · 26 days

Text

Lessons of Love - Part 4

Nerd!Natasha x Rogers!F R

Summary: As your relationship with Natasha progresses, you find some bumps on the road.

That was no way to start the day. Natasha had looked everywhere for her notebook, and now she was walking to Advanced Calc without any idea where it went.

Truth is, she could remember most of the things she had written down from lessons. What she regretted the most was losing all the little notes or scribbles you’d leave at random places.

“Looking for this?” she heard you say.

There you were, standing outside her classroom. You had her schedule memorised to know what routes to take to your next class and see her as offen as possible.

“Yes, actually” she nodded, taking the notebook from you. You smiled, leaning forward. To anyone else, it seemed like you two were just talking, but you had your hand on her arm, drawing circles.

“It was under my bed…” you explained, blushing at the memory of the make out session that almost became somethig more. You could tell Natasha was thinking the same thing, as her eyes traveled to your lips. You were about to close the distance for a short kiss when someone called for you.

“Hey, mamacita” it was Jessica Jones, who stayed oblivious to the intimate moment you were sharing with Natasha.

“Hey, JJ” you greeted, turning around and standing closer to Nat, hoping she’d put her arm around your shoulders or something. Instead, she excused herself and went inside the room.

You sighed, disappointed.

“We have Spanish together. Wanna walk with me? Podemos practicar en el camino, muy caliente!”

“Oh, wow. Your Duolingo streak must be on fire”

—-

“Au, K, C, Na” Natasha pulled out study cards, placing them in front of you.

“Gold, Potasium, Carbon, Sodium” you listed all the elements.

“Correct” she leaned back against the headboard, chewing on some M&Ms.

“Where’s my prize?” you said in a low voice, getting closer to her. Natasha blushed and watched as you leaned forward… stealing the candy from her.

“Not fair” she complained, although she was laughing along. You offered her a chocolate to appease her, aware that your eyes followed her movements as she let you feed her.

Obviously, the study session was abandoned for other activities. Her lips were on yours and you had kicked the notebooks out of the way to have more space.

Natasha’s tongue explored your mouth expertly -god, she had gotten so good at kissing- while the other circled your waist. You yelped as she lifted you up, placing you on her lap.

“That was incredibly hot” you commented, licking and biting her earlobe.

Natasha responded by squeezing your breasts over your shirt. You didn’t know what had gotten over her, she was usually shy and let you take the lead, but you were definitely not complainig. Before she had time to hesitate, you took your shirt off, nipples hardening at the cold air and the arousal.

Natasha moaned, burying her face in the valley of your breasts.

“Can I…?” she asked for permission, her hand hovering over the clasp of your bra.

“Yes. Please” you nodded, and a second later felt your bra lose around your shoulders. Natasha pulled at it impatiently, her tongue swirling around your nipple. You jolted forward, moaning and feeling her erection against your leg.

With a cloudy mind, you unzipped her pants and palmed her cock through her boxers. Natasha’s hips went up, as her lips stopped working on your breasts, caught off guard by your bold move.

“I’m sorry, I just got carried away”

“Do it again, please” she asked against your lips, kissing you while her hand took over your nipple. Nodding against her, you continued to stroke her over the fabric, feeling the hardness strain against the underwear. You wanted nothing more than to pull the boxers down and suck Natasha off.

The thought made you squeeze a bit harder, Natasha losing her focus for a second, knowing she’d come any minute.

Your brother’s voice boomed across the hallway.

“Captain Rogers is pulling up the driveway. However’s doing something nasty, wrap it up”

You groaned at that, layind down next to Natasha. Your hair was a mess and you were both out of breath.

“My eyes are up here” you joked when she kept staring at your boobs, your chest going up and down as your breathing evened out.

“I know” Natasha nodded, still looking at them. You laughed, pushing her away as you rolled on your back to put your clothes back on.

“Hey, I didn’t overstep, right?” Natasha asked, kissing your shoulder as you looked in the mirror to fix your hair,

“No, my love. It was perfect” you said, looking at her reflection. Once you were satisfied with your appearance, you turned around and put your arms around her neck. “I liked it way too much”

“I did too” she confessed, smiling as you pecked her lips.

“Maybe we can talk about…”

“Yeah. I know… I’ve been thinking about it too”

“Wait. Are we both talking about marriage?” you said, serious. Natasha’s eyes widened and you laughed. “I’m just teasing you”

“Yeah, that’s what you are. A big tease” she said, kissing you softly.

—

Still thinking about everything that happened the day before, you walked out of Spanish class. It took you a moment to caught up with Jessica, who was talking next to you.

“So, what do you think?”

“About what?”

“I asked you to dinner. Like, a date?”

“Oh” you nodded, and then it clicked. “Oh, JJ, I'm very flattered but the thing is… I have a girlfriend”

“You do? Huh” Jessica said with a smile. “Wait, don’t tell me. It’s Wanda, right? I mean, you guys are together all the time”

“Wanda?” you repeated, confused. It almost felt like you summoned her, because she came out of nowhere, pulling you by the arm.

“Hey, mind if I steal my girl?”

“Wait, that’s not what you think” you tried to correct, but Jessica gave you a thumbs up.

“Happy for you two”

Wanda kept walking down the hallway, her hand firmly grasping yours and you tried to keep up with her.

“Wanda, what’s wrong?”

“Jarvis is coming for the winter break!” she said excitedly.

“Oh, the English lad” you said with your bad accent. The girl rolled her eyes.

“Wait, why is Jessica happy for us?” she stopped suddenly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it”

Later that day, Wanda came back home with you to tell you all about Jarvis’ upcoming visit.

“I’m happy for you” you said.

“What’s wrong?”

“What do you mean? Nothing, Wands”

“You didn’t even make the accent since I brought it up again”

You rolled your eyes and threw a cushion her way, making her laugh.

“Is it weird that Natasha and I are still keeping everything private? It’s been three months since we started dating, and we’re not exactly hiding but when someone comes to speak to me she just disappears”

“Have you spoken to her?” Wanda suggested, spinning in your work chair.

“I guess we’re due a talk for more than one reason” you admitted, playing with the hem of your shirt. Wanda caught on to your shift in mood and launched herself to lay next to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, yesterday, it felt like we almost… you know”

“Really? Oh my God, how was it?” Wanda squealed and you sushed her, fearing your parents would hear. “What? I wanna know everything. I mean, ew, not everything but… ya know”

“We didn’t do… it. It felt like we were going to, but then Dad was home. Plus, I haven’t even told her how I feel. It’s kind of cheap to do it without saying how much I love her”

“Well, just tell her exactly that. It’s not like she doesn’t love you back”

“I don’t know. Anything is possible” you shrugged your shoulders and Wanda kicked her feet in the air, sighing dramatically.

“You two are impossible lesbians. She’s out there looking at you as if you hung all the stars in the sky and you’re moping because Natasha might not love you back”

“Alright, jeez” you laughed. “Then help me tell her in a creative way”

“What are you thinking? Something she likes?”

“Morse code” you suggested and Wanda made a face. “Alright, non binary language”

“Like saying I love them instead of you”

“No, as in 0 and 1 like computers, genius”

“Ugh, you are a certified nerd” she gagged and you laughed. “What’s wrong with some old fashioned bouquet and chocolate?”

“Going back to the basics… you’re on to something, Maximoff”

—

Your mom was on board with your plan the minute you shared it. She’d been the one to arrange a bouquet of flowers from the family garden. It had baby’s breath, white carnations, pink camellias and a dash of red yarrow.

So, there you were, standing outside the Romanoff home first thing in the morning. You had plans later that day and you knew Natasha was going out for her run, but you were lucky enough to catch her before she left.

“Hey” she greeted you as she opened the door.

“Hi…” you began, and then she pulled you by the waist, devouring your mouth in that new found hunger that made your knees weak. “Uh… I…”

“It’s nice to see you first thing in the morning” she said, her nose against yours in a sweet gesture.

“Yeah, especially when you kiss me like that”

Natasha smiled, but let go of your waist and finally looked at the flowers.

“Going somewhere?”

“Huh? Oh, no. These are for you” you extended the bouquet and she took it. “I’ve grown all these flowers myself and wanted to give them to you because I…”

“Achoo!”

“Bless you”

“Thank… achoo!”

Natasha sneezed a few times before you caught up with what was happening.

“Damn it, you’re allergic”

“Nooo… maybe a little” she looked apologetic and you gently removed the bouquet from her hands, placing it behind your back.

“I’m sorry, baby. I had no idea”

“It’s fine. They’re really pretty. It’s the thought that counts” she sneezed one more time and you sighed. “Let me grab my medicine and I’ll be right back”

“No, it’s ok. I’ll come back later, I should take this back home” you held the flowers as if they were radioactive, as far away from her body as possible. “Catch you later for our date?”

“Looking forward to it” she leaned forward to kiss you, but broke apart to sneeze once more.

“Medicine, now” you sighed against her lips.

So, that was a bust. Your mother was ready to take personal offense when you came back with the flowers, until you explained what had happened.

“Well, what’s plan B?”

“A fortune cookie?”

You honestly thought the flowers would work so a backup plan was not even considered.

“We’ll bake cupcakes!” your mother suggested, always a step ahead of you. “Look for ideas while I get the ingredients”

You browsed until you stumbled upon a cute video. With an edible marker, you wrote “I love you” in a piece of sugar paper. Covering it with a food safe acetate and buttercream, you decorated the cupcake as if it was a letter, placing a small red heart on the center.

You prepared a tray with the rest of the cupcakes, making sure to place the one with the note in the middle.

“Good luck, sweetheart” your mother said as she dropped you off later that day on her way to the gallery.

This time, Natasha’s welcome was a bit more measured, since her parents were up and your mom was waving from the car.

“How’s the allergy?”

“It’s all fine now” she promised, leading you by the hand.

“Well, I got you some cupcakes. I’m pretty certain you’re not allergic to those”

“No, especially when you’re the one making them” she admired the work.

“You should eat this one first” you pointed at the one in the middle and she nodded, taking your face in her hands.

“I want something sweeter first” her lips moved against yours and you grabbed her neck to keep her there.

“Right in front of the cupcakes” Yelena complained and you broke apart, eyes still closed as you tried to bring your breathing back to normal.

“Those aren’t for you”

Crap.

Of course, Yelena chose the one with the note. By the time you noticed, she was done with it.

“Uh… you didn’t taste anything weird in it?” you asked, worried about the acetate. Yelena shrugged her shoulders, and picked up another one until Natasha slapped her hand away.

“Get your own cupcake baking girlfriend”

“Is that all she is to you? A cupcake factory? Natalia, that is so rude. Y/N also has a cute butt, why not mention that”

“You know what I mean. And don’t look at her butt!”

“It’s fine, it’s fine!” you stopped the arguing, sounding a bit hysterical. “Come on, let’s get going, Nat”

You were silent for the entire ride, and Natasha allowed you to take the time you needed.

“We’re here” she announced after parking at the mini golf course.

“Ok”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to do something special for you and I think I’ve been failing all day”

“You haven’t. Everything you do is special for me”

“Really?” you whispered, blushing at her kind words. Natasha nodded, taking your hand and kissing the back of it. You suddenly remembered a thing you wanted to mention. “Our four month anniversary is next Saturday… why don’t we go somewhere nice?”

“I love that” she agreed and you smiled, eager to shout back and I love you

But you wanted it to be special, and what’s another week? You could wait, and maybe, this time your plan would work.

—

The Science Club was only five people. Peter, Darcy, Shuri, Ned and Natasha, the founding member. It was an improvement from last year, when it was only her and Darcy.

“So, next week we’re getting the guidelines for the Science Bowl, and then we can plan our study sessions” Natasha said, writing down a couple of dates in the whiteboard.

“Are we doing that?” Peter asked, looking around.

“Why wouldn’t we?”

“Well, I thought you would be focused on the Westview Science Fair. Since they have some people from MIT coming each year” Peter explained.

“Well, I’m a sophomore… I’m sure next year I’ll do it”

“Scared I’ll beat you, Romanoff?” Shuri taunted.

Natasha felt like she was under the microscope. Everyone in the club knew how brilliant her mother was, and how ambitious Natasha’s own goals were for her future as a scientist.

“Are you ok? We’ve had the impression that you’ve been a bit distracted” Ned said in a soft tone, as if he was afraid to upset her.

“I’m fine” Natasha lied, turning to Darcy. “See? Lewis is texting someone while we meet. Bet she’s more distracted than me”

“Hey! I’m just talking to Y//N”

“Why are you talking to Y/N?” Natasha snapped. Everyone in the room shared a look.

“Because we’re partnering for a Biology project. And then I’ll ask her out”

“I heard she has a girlfriend” Shuri intervened, saving Natasha from throwing the marker to Darcy’s head. “No idea who she is, though”

“Well, that won’t stop me” Darcy smiled, going back to texting.

“We’ll do the Science Bowl and I’ll work on the Westview Fair, so that’s thqt” Natasha returned to writing on the board.

“Wow. You’re doing both? Isn’t that a lot?” Peter said. Natasha shrugged her shoulders.

For the rest of the afternoon, her thoughts spiraled, filling her with anxiety. She had gotten distracted and lost focus and now her entire future was jeopardized over it.

It wasn’t until later, when she heard a knock on the door that she snapped out of it.

“Go away”

“You sure about that?”

Another thing she had forgotten; you had plans. She felt guilty, and wished she had cancelled before making you come all the way here when she was in a sour mood.

As she opened the door, you leaned forward to kiss her but she turned her face.

“You ok?” you said, confused at her cold demeanor. Walking to her desk, you placed a gift box and sat on the bed, looking at Natasha. She was tense, and avoiding your eyes.

“Fine. Just busy”

“Oh, ok. Well, want me to just wait until you’re less busy? I can go bother Yel”

“It’s gonna take a while. You should go back home. I’ll text you later”

“Nat? What’s wrong?”

“Why were you texting Darcy?” she finally snapped, picking a fight over something she knew meant nothing.

“How did you know?”

“So you didn’t want me to find out”

“I’m texting her because we’re doing a presentation for class. She asked me to be on the same team”

“You could have said no” she said, turning her back to you.

“I don’t have any reason to be a total bitch and say no to a group project, Natasha. If it bothers you so much you could tell her we’re dating. I told my friends, unlike you”

“That’s not the point” Natasha said, looking at the card that came with the gift. It was a simple equation.

“Then what is?”

“I don’t have time for this. You want me to do your homework too?” she threw the card on her desk and looked at you. “I��m behind, I totally forgot about the Science Fair and now I have to come up with a really good project in less than three weeks”

“Why are you making it sound like it’s my fault?”

“Because” Natasha stopped herself from saying it is.

But you knew.

She saw the hurt in your eyes and regretted everything that had just happened.

“Don’t worry. I won’t get in the way of your stuff anymore, Natasha” you stood up, walking towards the door.

“Wait! No, I didn’t mean to…”

“Yes, you did” you went out of her room, Natasha staying rooted to the spot.

She was a coward.

—

You had avoided Natasha all day. That’s how she finally realised that all those moments where you met and spoke outside of her classroom or in the hallways were because of you, going out of your way to see her.

During English class, you sat at the front, as far away from her as you could, and spend the entire period taking notes. By the time it was over, you were the first person out the door. Natasha tried to catch up with you but wasn’t even sure how to begin to apologize.

Natasha’s texts, as well as her calls went unanswered. Today was a Saturday, and you’d usually spend time together in the evening… she could try going to your place, or to your mother’s gallery. She had to find you and tell you how sorry and wrong she was. You were the best thing that had happened to her, and it was none of your responsibility if Natasha had too much on her plate.

Yelena walked past her in the living room, wearing her cheerleader uniform.

“You don’t have practice today” Natasha turned to her.

“It’s the end of the football season so we’re meeting today and tomorrow. I’m late” Yelena answered without looking at her sister.

“Wait! I’ll drive you”

Yelena rolled her eyes, but waited in the car nonetheless. She spent most of the time looking out the window, until she couldn’t hold her tongue anymore.

“If anyone had spoken to me the way you spoke to Y/N, I would have broken up with them, on the spot”

“Jeez. Thanks?”

“She’s kind. And she’s in love with you. You’re always so caught up in your world of science like mom. It’s great that you’re so smart but you’re so damn stupid sometimes, Tasha” Yelena said and left the car as soon as she arrived.

Natasha sighed, looking for you in the field. You were speaking to Pepper, smiling as she showed you what the next move would be. Your eyes landed on Natasha and your smile faded. Still, the redhead waved at you and you walked towards the bleachers.

“What’s up?” you said in a casual tone that made Natasha’s heart drop.

“I tried calling you”

“I had nothing to say” you shrugged your shoulders. “And you have a lot going on so I figured you could use your time back”

In that moment, Natasha’s phone rang and she ignored the call, without checking who it was.

“I made a mistake. I’m sorry. I was unfair to you because I had a bad day”

“Honestly, Natasha? I’m not sure if it’s just that”

“What do you mean? Damn it” she complained as her phone rang again. The sound was begining to irritate you.

“What I mean is… you’re very smart and I’m just me. I have no idea what I want to do with my life and I’m ok with that, because I’m 16 and feel like I have time. But if you have everything figured out, and you feel like it should be your priority, I won’t hold you back”

“You’re not holding me back” she promised, taking a step forward. “I just don’t know how to balance everything. I lost focus…”

“Because of me?”

“Because I… I’ve never been in a relationship before”

“Well, that sounds like something you should figure out on your own” you cut her off, starting to walk away.

“That’s not fair. You can’t expect me to feel bad because I know what I want? I’m sorry. But being in a relationship won’t get me into MIT”

“I never said that!” you groaned, frustrated as her phone began to rang again. Natasha didn’t ignore the call, and this time the noise made you even more upset as you both kept arguing. “Pick up the damn phone”

Taking the phone from her hands, you answered the call.

“Hey, Natty. I’m waiting at your house but your mom said you’re out”

You recognized the voice. Jane Foster.

“Don’t worry. We’re done here” you threw the phone at Natasha, turning to walk away.

“Wait, it’s not what you think. Jane was only going to help me with the Science Fair project”

“Today was our fourth month together, I made a reservation and everything. And I kept it with the hope that we could make things right. But go be with Jane, take her out. Forget about me, us. If this relationship is a burden, you’re not in one anymore”

“No, Y/N, wait, please”

“Goodbye, Natasha”

You left her standing alone, as you walked into school. Yelena followed you, glaring as she walked past her sister.

“Nice one, Natasha”

—

Natasha didn’t know how to fix this mess. You were never alone at school, and she was sure it wasn’t a coincidence.

Pietro or Wanda were consistently by your side, even when their classes were across the school. Bucky glared at Natasha the only time she dared come near you, but you elbowed him and walked away as fast as possible.

You didn’t hate Natasha, nor did you expect anyone else to be mean to her. You were just heartbroken, feeling like everything she had said was confirmation of how unlikely it was for someone as smart as her to love you.

Wednesday seemed like the only chance to actually talk to you, but to Natasha’s bad luck, you skipped Chemistry class.

“No Miss Rogers today?” Fury asked in the middle of practice. Natasha shrugged her shoulders. “This exercise was her idea”

“Borax crystals?” Natasha looked up. The professor shrugged his shoulders, copying Natasha.

“Said she wanted to use the pipe cleaners to do some fun shapes. I’m guessing hearts”

Natasha thought about it for a second, while Fury gave her a knowing look.

“Crystal hearts” Natasha repeated.

“She also showed me an equation to check if it was correct, then wrote in something that looked like a card. Very mysterious”

“Yeah” Natasha nodded, going back to her notes. Feeling someone was looking at her, she raised her eyes and met Wanda’s murderous glare.

“Stop it” Pietro told his sister, while Natasha turned pale. Wanda could be scary.

Fury chuckled and walked back to his desk, hoping whatever was going on could be solved outside of his classroom.

For her part, Natasha wanted to skip the rest of her classes and go home. She was sure the card Fury mentioned was the same you had given her the day she acted like a total ass.

By the time she got home, Natasha went straight to her room. The gift box had been hidden in her closet, because she couldn’t stand seeing it all the time.

“Screw it” she muttered, opening the closet and taking it out. Natasha ripped the paper, trying to figure out what the box had.

Lego flowers.

So you can always have flowers without the allergies, a note inside said.

She didn’t deserve you. Natasha dropped the box in her bed and sat on the floor. How could she know so much about science but not be able to figure out how to fix this?

There was a knock on her door but she didn’t care to answer.

“Sweetheart?” Melina said, opening the door. Her eyes widened when she saw her daughter so defeated. “Tasha, what’s wrong?”

“I’m an idiot” Natasha shook her head, the tears finally rolling down her cheeks. She had tried to avoid it, because Natasha hated crying, hated feeling helpless more than anything.

But right now, she hated the way she had made you feel even more.

“Oh, you’re definitely not an idiot, sweetie. Come here” Melina sat next to her daughter, hugging her. Natasha felt like she was five again, but held on to her mother’s arms. “Is this about Y/N?”

“Yelena told you, huh?”

“No. I just noticed she hasn’t been around and you’ve been hiding in your room. Wanna tell me what happened?”

“I was a jerk. All of the sudden I realised I was gonna have all this extra work from the Science Club and the Westview Fair and blamed it on her, as if she was distracting me on purpose”

“Oh, I see. You’ve never been good with stress, after all”

“I’m not good with people” Natasha shook her head. “She’s better off without me”

“Natasha, darling. You’re so smart. But you put so much pressure on yourself. I sometimes blame myself for it”

“What do you mean?”

“I worked so hard when I first came here because I had to prove myself. Had to be ten times better than anyone else to be seen as more than just the strange girl from Russia. I don’t want that to be your life. Choose a path that makes you happy”

Natasha nodded, wiping away the last tears.

“I don’t know how to fix it” she confessed.

“Say how you feel. Speak from the heart. And be better next time. That’s all you can do” Melina said, squeezing Natasha’s shoulders. “We’ll leave in an hour, the last game of the season is today”

As Melina left her daughter’s room, Natasha gathered the courage to open the card, curious to see if it had the equation that Fury mentioned.

She went over it a couple of times, and then sat, writing it down on her own notebook to solve it.

9x - 7i > 3 (3x - 7u)

9x - 7i > 9x - 21u

- 7i > - 21u

7i < 21u

i <3 u

“I love you” she read, her heart beating out of her chest.

Natasha stood up and tried calling you, but it went to voicemail. You’d probably be at the field, practicing with the rest of the team. It would be nearly impossible to get close to you, and Natasha didn’t want to wait until the end of the game.

She had to speak to you now. Natasha called someone else.

“Peter. I need a favor”

—

As it was to be expected, the school parking lot was packed. Melina walked with an arm around her daughter’s shoulders.

“Feeling better?”

“Yes” Natasha nodded. “I’ll catch up with you. I have to meet with Peter real quick”

“Alright” the woman said, going to the bleachers to find a spot for them.

Natasha walked to the school library, looking anxiously around the building.

“Hey! I’m here, sorry” Peter said, carrying the mascot suit. “This is a very weird favor to ask, Nat”

“I know, trust me. But I need to get to the field now” Natasha examined the suit, accepting Peter’s help to put it on. Once the body was zipped, Peter placed the lion’s head, making sure Natasha was adjusting it.

“How does it feel?”

“How can you even see in this thing?” Natasha’s voice came out muffled.

“Yeah, I can’t. You’ll get used to it, though. Come on, I’ll walk you to the field”

He took Natasha by the hand (well, paw) and she almost backed out of the plan. It was hot and dark in there and she might pass out.

But then she thought of you and the three words she wanted to tell you, and her resolve strenghtented.

By the time they reached the field, Pepper dragged Natasha out, not even noticing that Peter was by her side, instead of inside the suit.

“We change the routine’s speed so you better catch up”

“Wait, I don’t even know it”

“Stay there” the girl ignored her. Natasha looked around and walked with her arms reached forward.

“So, how are you feeling?” that was Yelena’s voice. Natasha walked towards it, hopeful.

“I’ve had better days” you admitted with a sad smile. “I miss Nat like crazy”

“If it helps she’s been very miserable” Yelena said and you laughed.

“She’ll be fine without me. Though I’ve been trying to avoid her, because I know she wants to break up and I cannot take it, not right now”

What? She never wanted to break up with you. Natasha struggled with the head of the suit, but stumbled against her sister.

“Hey, watch it” Yelena said, but turned as Pepper asked everyone to take their places. “Come on Parker, you know what to do”

“I’m not Parker. Y/N, wait!” Natasha screamed, but between the music and the cheers from the crowd, you didn’t hear her. Natasha stumbled around as the cheerleading squad began their routine. She crashed against some of the girls, and by the time she found a quiet corner to go unnoticed, they were pulling her back to the field, almost carrying her to the center of their circle.

Pepper pushed Natasha towards a trampoline, and the girl jumped a few times on it.

“Go, Lions!” the girls cheered as someone threw a ball to Natasha’s head. She flew in the air, losing her footing and the head of the suit at the same time. The redhead landed on her back, the padding helping a bit with the fall.

“Natasha?” you said, rushing to her side. “What the hell do you think you’re doing? Are you ok?”

“I’m fine” Natasha said, breathing heavily and finding comfort in your closeness. She had missed you so much.

“Are you sure? Does anything hurt?” you insisted, checking her head with a gentleness that made Natasha swoon. Without thinking about it, she closed the distance, kissing you softly. You tried to protest, but gave in a moment later, shutting your eyes and pulling her closer.

You missed her so damn much.

People cheered and then it dawned on you that you were putting on a show for the entire school. You looked at the crowd, your cheeks turning pink.

“Maybe we should…”

“I love you” Natasha said, unable to wait any longer.

“You… do?”

“I finally opened the card and the equation… it was a perfect gift and I’m sorry, I was an idiot. I love you so much and I never meant to hurt you. Please, believe me, Y/N. You’re everything to me”

“Well, how can a girl resist a love confession like that?” you laughed, pulling her up. When Natasha stood up, she lifted you in her arms, spinning you around.

“I love you” she said one more time, kissing you softly.

“I love you too” you smiled against her mouth, not caring about the crowd anymore.

—

Now that you had made up (and made out) in front of most of the school, you and Natasha were inseparable. You walked to classes together, holding hands in the hallway and talking about your day. During break you’d eat together and at the end of the day hung out for a while with Wanda and Pietro, or only the two of you, sharing a few laughs and kisses.

Oh, the kissing.

First thing on Monday, when the school was still buzzing with the gossip of your relationship, Natasha came up the stairs as you entered the school. Her lips met yours, in that hungry way she usually saved for the privacy of your room, and you broke apart, blushing and smiling.

“Good morning”

“Uh-huh. I’ll say” you laughed, taking her hand, aware that some people were staring.

It became a habit. Most times it was innocent, like a kiss on the cheek while saying goodbye before your classes. You’d be talking by your locker and she’d end up leaning you against it, your hands on her waist as you enjoyed being trapped by her body, looking at her lips until the conversation died down and you kissed her, a bit possesively.

It made Professor Harkness warn you about “no funny business during class” and Fury talking about wanting no distractions if you kept working together.

Both of your friends were the most crossed by this, because more often than not, they’d interrupt in the middle of some make out session.

Like today. The Science Club was preparing for the competition, and they met to study at the end of each day. Since it was Friday and you had no classes left, you decided to tease Natasha as she waited for her teammates.

“I’m having trouble with something” you said, sitting in one of the tables.

“With what?” Natasha said, organizing the flash cards and not picking up on your mood.

“I’ll show you”, you asked, pulling her flush against you as she stood between your legs. “I can’t stop thinking about my girlfriend”

Natasha smiled, allowing you to take the lead with the kiss, her hands going to your legs to make them wrap around her waist. She groaned when your tongue darted out.

“If this is how we’re studying today, I’ll pass” Darcy said as soon as she walked in on the room. You broke apart, noticing how Natasha didn’t let go.

Knowing she was jealous of the time you and Darcy were speaking, you placed a small kiss on the corner of her mouth and spoke loud enough for her friend to hear.

“Gotta go. You need to study. I love you, baby”

“I love you too” she smiled, kissing you one last time. You ran into Peter and Ned at the door and Natasha called out for you. “Don’t forget our date tonight. I gotta make it up to you for that dinner we missed”

You blushed as Ned and Peter whistled, nodding and waving goodbye.

All in all, life was good.

—

Comfortable and cozy. That’s what Natasha said you should wear. You had no idea where you were going, but felt excited.

“You look beautiful” your mom said as you went down the stairs. Your father turned as well.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t know”

“What do you mean you don’t know” he snapped, removing his glasses. “That is not safe. You’re staying here”

“Dad, it’s a surprise” you tried to ease his nerves, hugging him. “Plus, it’s not like you don’t track my phone”

“I…” he turned to glance at your mother, who looked ready to murder him.

“Joseph Rogers, that is an incredible invasion of privacy! Do you track my phone too?”

They were so busy arguing, they never noticed the doorbell. You ran to greet Natasha.

“Hi” she said, kissing your cheek. She pulled something behind her back, handing it to you.

“I’m allergic to flowers so I thought I’d compromise here” she smiled, giving you a cactus.

“Thank you, darling” you smiled.

“I’ll take that. You two have fun” your mother said, inspecting the plant. She was probably planning where to place it.

“Alright, don’t wait up” you winked at your parents, making Natasha blush.

“Young lady, that is not funny!” your father said. You laughed, walking with Natasha to the car, while your mother shushed him, still upset.

“Relax. He knows it’s a joke. Now, take me to this super secret date, huh?”

“We have a different ride today” she pointed at a pick up truck that you had seen on her dad’s garage.

Natasha opened the door for you, and extended her hand, as the climb to the seat was steep.

“It feels like we’re in a carriage” you joked as she turned it on and drove you. Reaching a gated park, a security guard opened the door for you two and you were pretty sure Natasha handed him a twenty dollar bill as you drove past him.

“This looks like the country club”

“That’s because it is. We’re just sneaking around the back” she winked at you.

“Well, we can go through the front, you know we have the membership…”

“Detka, trust me, I know the perfect view is this way” she squeezed your leg, leaving her hand there for the rest of the short ride.

“What does it mean?” you asked and she looked confused. “Come on, I don’t know how to say it. That Russian word”

“Detka? It means baby. Sort of”

You blushed and squeezed the hand that was resting in your lap, hoping Natasha would use it again very soon.

Natasha encouraged you to jump, holding you by the waist until you landed against her. She moved aside to show you what she meant, and you gasped as you saw the lake that was away from the courts and the restaurant.

The ground was usually reserved for parties, but it was luckily empty. As you kept staring at the lights reflecting in the water, Natasha uncovered the back of the truck to reveal it was full of pillows, blakets, food and her laptop.

“Hope you’re hungry” she helped you up, holding your hand while you steadied yourself in the back.

“Starving” you said, finally picking a corner to sit in and making room for her. Natasha sat next to you, her arm around your shoulders. “Nat, this is lovely”

“You deserve it, and more”

“I love you” you kissed her, leaning against her side until you needed to catch your breath.

“Love you too. Now, here” Natasha opened up the picnic basket. “We have lasagna and soda, chocolate cake for dessert, popcorn and gummies in case you want more snacks”

“What movie are we watching?”

“About Time”

“Yes!” you cheered, appreciating her choice. You knew Natasha complained about the time travel inaccuracies, but it was one of your favorites.

As the movie progressed, you came closer to Natasha, seeking her warmth when the air became colder.

“Here” she covered you with a blanket and you came closer, sinking in her arms.

“You make me really happy, Natasha” you looked at her, appreciating how soft she looked under the fading light.

“And you’re the best thing that ever happened to me” she leaned forward, pressing her lips against yours. As your hands went down her arms, you sank further into the pillows, until you landed on your back with a squeal. “Are you ok?”

“Yes” you laughed, pulling Natasha down. Her body was on top of yours, and you appreciated feeling her weight. The kissing became more frantic, with your hands exploring the skin of her back while she bit your lip and then kissed your neck.

“Oh, my” you gasped, as literal fireworks lit up the sky. “Did you do this?”

“I could lie and tell you I did, but I’m guessing there’s a party down at the restaurant”

Enjoying the free show, Natasha hugged you as you looked up.

“Hey” you called, squeezing her hand.

“Hi” Natasha smiled, kissing your temple.

“I know there’s a lot going on right now and it may be too soon… but. You know that thing that almost happened two weeks ago in my room”

“Mhm” Natasha nodded against you.

“Well… I’d love it if you… if my first time could be with you. And like I said, now’s not the time and all, but it’s just a step that I’d take only with you because I trust you and I love you”

Natasha smiled, surprised that you of all people were rambling.

“I would love that too, detka. We’ll know when the time is right, don’t you think?”

“Yes. And please keep calling me that. It’s the best thing in the world” you nudged her side and she laughed against you.

“Anything for you, moya lyubov”

“Oh, come on! That’s not fair” you complained, your heart skipping a beat at those new words. “Keep doing that and I’m losing my virginity right here in the back of this truck”

“Oh” Natasha let out a surprised squeal, turning red. Yeah, that was the Nat you knew.

“I love you, baby” you laughed at her sudden shyness. “And I’m kidding, of course”

“Right”

“The back seat is probably more comfortable”

“Incorrigible” she mumbled, kissing you softly and laughing with you.

“But you love me”

“Yeah. I really do”

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff x y/n

245 notes · View notes

andvys · 1 year

Text

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 3

Warnings: angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of sex, mentions of cheating, mentions of emotional abuse (Chrissy’s mom), absent parent, daddy issues, jealousy. Billy being Billy… it’s not what you think

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!cheerleader!reader , Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler

Summary: Someone you don't want to see shows up at your doorsteps.

Word count: 6.7k

Note: @mysticmunson thank you for helping me as always, you're the best! @somethingvicked thank you for the idea with Billy, it's working perfectly for this story

series masterlist

Steve had been so on edge ever since he found out about you and Billy. He knows that Tommy and Carol aren’t the most honest people. They strive off of chaos, they live for the drama and the lies and constantly make up new things to gossip about but for some reason, he believes their words this time. Billy had been following you around ever since he broke up with you– he had been running after you for some time now but never like this. You always rejected him, you were taken and not interested but now Steve can’t help but wonder, were you truly not interested or were you just rejecting him because you were with him? Were you secretly into Billy all this time? The thought of it makes him feel sick.

He sits in his car, bouncing his knee as he stares out the window, waiting for his girlfriend. The parking lot is filled with students, he hears laughter and different voices. He sees Billy walking towards his car, the usual smug and arrogant look resting on his face. He straightens up, looking around to see if you’re around too, wanting to see if you will get in the car with him. What will he do if you do get into his car?

“Hey!”

Nancy’s voice startles him a little, he tears his eyes away from the blue camaro and turns to look at his girlfriend.

“Hey Nance,” he smiles. He instantly leans closer to her once she’s seated, she meets him halfway, kissing him on the lips. Her eyes are closed, his are open and they flash with curiosity when he sees you through his window. You look his way and it’s enough for him to tense up.

He expects you to get into Billy’s car but instead you go the other way, you pass by his car and look straight ahead, pretending to not see him or her. He breaks the kiss, Nancy doesn’t seem to mind, she leans back and puts the seatbelt on as she begins to talk about her project. Steve hums and nods along, turning his head to see where you are going.

Are you going to Heather’s car? To Chrissy’s car? It turns out to be neither of those, instead you leave the parking lot and walk into the direction of the football field. Where are you going?

“I figured that we could rent a movie tomorrow since we can’t hang out tonight,” Nancy says, “I really wanna get it done. It’s been nice to hang out with Jonathan again though, we should all go out together sometime!”

“Sure,” Steve mumbles and turns back to her when he no longer sees you.

Her brows are raised and a confused smile is on her lips, “were you even listening?”

He nods, “yeah, you want me to hang out with Byers,” he says with an eye roll.

“Hey,” Nancy mumbles, hitting his arm, “he’s nice, you just gotta get to know him.”

“Sure,” he chuckles, running his fingers through his hair, “nice.”

Nancy shakes her head at him, raising her arm, she pulls down the sun visor and flips open the small mirror, a piece of paper that was tucked into it falls into her lap. Her brows knit together as she looks down at it. She picks it up, it’s just a simple brown paper that was ripped out of a notebook, she turns it around. Annoyance bubbles inside of her when she sees the writing on the note. It’s not much but it’s from you, it’s not signed but she recognizes your handwriting and the little heart, only you draw it like that.

I love you

She presses her lips together and glances over at Steve who is staring into blank space.

How long has the note been here? Does he even know that it existed?

“Here,” Nancy mumbles and throws it into his lap.

Steve glances at her first, brows furrowed and lips parted, he notices the annoyed look on her face. He looks down at the note in his lap. Oh.

“I didn’t know you still kept her things.”

Steve blinks as he stares at your handwriting. You drew a little heart next to your I love you. He swallows harshly. The weird feeling in his chest returns yet again. He didn’t even know the note was there– you did things like that all the time, leaving little notes everywhere for him to find. He kept them all.

“I don’t,” he lies as he puts the note in his pocket after folding it, “I didn’t even know it was there. I’ll throw it away later.”

Nancy nods, eyeing him from the side. She doesn’t like the way he folded the paper so neatly. He should’ve crumpled it up and thrown it out the window.

“Okay.”

The scented candles in your room are lit, making the air smell like pumpkin spice and cinnamon. The light of your salt lamp makes everything appear softer, you never use the big light in your room, you hate it. The police’s every breath you take is playing in the background.

“Are you going to the winter formal?” Chrissy asks as she flips to the next page of her new fashion magazine. You are both laying on your bed, the decoration pillows all over the floor. You look at the pretty dresses in the magazine. You would be wearing one of those next Friday if Steve wasn’t such a cheating asshole.

“Nope.”

She glances at you with a sad look in her eyes, “we could go together.”

You give her a small smile as you shake your head.

“No, it’s okay,” you say, “I don’t feel like going anyway, he’s gonna be there with her.”

She sighs, her lips are set in a frown, “you know, I never liked him. As much as I hate to say it, I’m not surprised about his actions but Nancy?” She mumbles, “who would’ve thought that she’s such a.. bitch.”

“Yeah, looks deceive, huh?”

“Totally.”

You told your friends about what Nancy said in the girls bathroom when she didn’t know that you were there.

“She looks like one of those church girls.”

A surprised laugh leaves your lips, “a church girl?”

“Yeah, she wears those ugly long skirts and those preppy blouses that my mom forces me to wear when we go to church on Sunday’s,” she mumbles, rolling her eyes.

“Is she a church girl?” You ask.

She snorts and shakes her head, “I don’t think so, I’ve never seen her around.”

You nod.

She flips to the next page, eying all the dresses before her eyes land on the ugliest one, a giggle falling from her lips, she points at it with her pink nails, “looks like something she would wear.”

You can’t help but laugh.

“And that’s why she won’t ever be prom queen, that’ll be you,” you say, expecting to see a smile on her face but instead it falls and a frown settles in her features.

“It’s not prom yet,” she mumbles, “and I don’t really wanna be the queen to some asshole’s king.”

Raising your brows, you tilt your head as you look at her. Cupping your cheek, you lean your elbow on the pillow beneath you, “you mean, you don’t want to be Jason Carver’s queen?”

A look of disgust crosses her features and she shudders at the mention of his name.

“Mom forces me to go with him,” she says, looking like she’s ready to break down out of frustration, “I don’t want to go with him.”

Your gaze softens, you place your hand on her back, “then don’t go with him.”

She keeps her eyes locked on the magazine, “you know how my mom is, I can’t just not go, she’ll make my life a living hell if I don’t do what she says.”

You never liked Chrissy’s mother, she was always horrible to her. Always pushing her to do and be ‘better’, forcing her to associate herself with people who already climbed up the social ladder, like Jason Carver.

You sigh, wishing you could help her.

“What if you just stop doing what she wants you to do?” You shrug.

She sighs and opens her mouth to speak but you cut her off, holding your hand up, you sit up on your knees, “I know, I know, easier said than done but–” you pause, looking around your room, you eye the freshly washed and ironed cheerleader uniform, the cassettes in the little box on your floor, bands that are his favorites, singers that your friends love so much, you stare at the baby pink wallpaper and the colorful clothes in your messy closet– you should’ve closed the door, the sight of the mess makes you want to groan in annoyance.

“But?” Chrissy mumbles as she waits for you to continue.

You blink, tearing your eyes away from all the things in your room that you didn’t come to like on your own. You look back at your best friend.

“If you do things for others, if you do things because they want you to do them or because they expect you to do them, because they like those things– you will end up feeling miserable at some point, you will lose yourself and one day you’re gonna realize that you don’t even know yourself, that you don’t even know what you like, what you truly want or… who you even are..”

She lets your words sink in. For a moment it’s silent between the two of you. You look down at your hands while she stares at you. Sadness and realization crossing her features. You are trying to help, she knows it but you are also realizing something about yourself, she can tell by the lost look in your eyes.

“I know that things would be tense if you just started going against her stupid rules or wishes but you can always come to me if things get tough at home,” you say, reaching out to take her hand, “I’m here and you know my mom won’t mind you staying with us.”

Her eyes light up at your words, a smile tugs at her lips, she turns her hand around and squeezes yours, “you’re the best, you know that right?” She whispers.

You smile at her words, you tilt your head, “no, I’m not.”

She frowns and rolls her eyes, “yes, you are.”

“Says who?” You chuckle.

“I do,” she says, proudly.

“Oh,” you smirk, leaning closer to her, you don’t notice the way her eyes widen or the way her cheeks flush a little red, “you do, huh?”

She blinks, her lips part and she stares at your face. Your face hovers over hers for a second before you lay back down on your bed and reach for the bat shaped pillow, the one you excitedly bought for your ‘halloween’ decoration, hugging it to your chest, you stare up at the ceiling, not noticing her stare or her tense body.

“A-Are you sure you don’t wanna come to the winter formal?” She asks again.

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

She looks down at her hands, “okay,” she frowns.

“Hey,” you whisper, glancing at her, “you’ll still have fun.”

“With Jason?” She mumbles, rolling her eyes, “I doubt that.”

“You can still go with someone else. If your mom is gonna act like a bitch, I’ll kick her ass for you.”

A giggle falls from her lips and she shakes her head as she looks at you with a smile on her face.

Rolling on your side, you prop your head up on your hand. Curiosity sparks inside of you.

“Who did you really want to go with?” You ask, “I know there is someone.” You notice the blush on her face and it only deepens the longer you stare at her.

“Oh uh–” she chuckles nervously, “n-no one, I just, I don’t wanna go with Jason.”

“Are you sure about that?”

She nods.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know that, right?”

“I-I’m not.”

“Good, we’re best friends, we tell each other everything, right?”

“Yeah,” she whispers and gives you a smile that doesn’t really reach her eyes. “I’m gonna go now, I still have to study for the math test tomorrow,” she groans.

“Oh.. yeah,” you mumble, trying to hide the disappointed look on your face. You hate being by yourself, there’s too much going on in your mind when you’re all alone in this house– you used to love it but ever since he left, it’s just been hard. “I gotta start working on the assignment.”

Chrissy rolls her eyes just the way she did when you told her about who you got partnered up with.

“You know, you could still take Billy up on that offer.”

You snort at her words, “I don’t think we need Billy to kick his ass, Heather will do.”

“Did you know that she accidentally bumped into him at Nick’s party last weekend? He was holding a drink and it got all over Nancy,” she giggles.

Your eyes widen, you can’t even fight the grin off your face, “no way?” You gasp.

“Yes way,” she laughs as she reaches for her backpack, “he got all pissed and looked like he was ready to fight but when he saw Heather, he got all quiet– he even looked scared.”

“He should be,” you chuckle.

“And Nancy got all hysterical and ran off.”

You snort, “she deserved it.”

“She deserves worse for what she did– they both do,” she sighs.

She never liked Steve, even before you started dating him, she couldn’t stand him. His presence annoyed her and more so when you two got together and she had to watch how he continuously messed with your feelings.

“Yeah well, I don’t care anymore, I’m moving on…”

She knows that there is no truth behind your words, you are not moving on. You still love him, she thinks that you always will. You always looked at him like he was the only light in your life, like he was the one who hung every star in the dark sky, it made her hate him even more because he never looked at you like that.

“I’ll walk you to the door–”

“No, it’s fine,” she smiles, “you don’t have to.” She walks towards you and pulls you into a hug, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” She squeezes you tightly before she lets go, giving you another smile.

“Yeah, still gotta help you pick out the right shoes for your dress,” you say.

She nods, “and maybe I’ll manage to convince you to come, after all,” she says as she pulls away and begins to walk out of your room, “I’d rather go with you than Jason,” she says quickly before she turns around and leaves the room, saying ‘bye’ in a sing song voice.

You chuckle and throw your head back against the pillow.

“Jason Carver,” you mumble in disgust. Not a single person could ever force you to go to the winter formal with him but Chrissy’s mother is the epitome of an evil witch, you know that she will make her life more miserable if she doesn’t do as she says. You understand why Chrissy would rather suffer through the night with him than risk a fight with her mother.

Not even five minutes after she left, the doorbell rings. Looking around the room, you try to see if she forgot something, that’s what usually happens when she leaves, she rushes back in a few minutes later because she left her keys or something else. Sighing, you push roll out of bed and rush out of the room.

The doorbell rings again.

“I’m coming!” You call out, “since when are you so impatient..”

Your socks are a little slippery on the hardwood floor, careful not to fall, you hold onto the railing as you hurry down the stairs. Grabbing the doorknob, you are already smiling in amusement, “let me guess, you forgot–” with your words caught in your throat and your smile falling quicker than ever, you only manage to stare at him in confusion.

There he is, Steve Harrington, standing on your front porch with his hands in his pocket and an unreadable expression on his face. What does he want?

Even though it was him who came here to see you, he stands frozen in place. He stares at you and you stare at him. You are both frozen, time stops, everything stops moving, right now, it’s just the two of you in this world.

It’s the first time you look at him again, properly. All the sadness, all the pain and the longing comes creeping back. It was there all this time, hidden beneath all the anger but it was easier to deal with it when you started pretending like he didn’t exist anymore, when you forced yourself not to look at him anymore, when you threw all his things away, when you let go of him. How dare he show up here?

Steve watches the way your eyes flash with confusion, anger and sadness, they soften for a split second. This is the first time you actually look at him again. This is the first time you are forced to acknowledge his presence again. A feeling he can only describe as relief rushes through him when you finally look into his eyes again.

It feels like forever that you look at each other when in reality only a minute passed since you opened the door. You blink and take a step back, rolling your eyes, you go to shut the door without wanting to hear an explanation as to why he is here– “no.” Is all you say before slamming the door in his face but he is quicker than you, he always was. He places his palm on the door, stopping you from closing it, “wait–”

“Get lost, Harrington.”

He sighs, he didn’t expect anything else from you.

You try to close the door again but he doesn’t let you, keeping his palm pressed against the wooden door, he stares at you with a stubborn look on his face. God, you want to punch him.

“What do you want?” You ask as you finally give up and let go of the door, you cross your arms over your chest and take a step back, not looking into his eyes. You raise your brows and glare at him when he invites himself into your house, he shuts the door behind him. You shake your head in disbelief.

He is wearing the stupid flannel that you used to love so much, the one you always stole from him– does it still smell like you?

“We have to work on the assignment together.”

Is he serious?

“I told you, I’ll do it myself,” you snap at him before you turn around and make your way into the kitchen in hopes that he will leave but instead, he follows you into the kitchen.

“We’re partners, it wouldn’t be fair to let you do all the work by yourself.”

You clench your jaw at his words, how ironic of him to say that. Turning the light on in the kitchen, you walk towards the fridge and open it, distracting yourself from his presence by staring at all the food and drinks.

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m used to doing all the work myself, my previous partner wasn’t much of a help,” you murmur, “in any way.”

Steve scoffs at your words, though he looks down in embarrassment, knowing exactly what things you are talking about. He places his hands on his hips and glances at you through his lashes, he eyes you for a moment before he speaks up, “listen, I-I wanna do better in school and I really want to work on this assignment.”

You close your eyes, shaking your head, you take a deep breath. Why did he have to sit next to you today?

“Since when do you care about being better in school?” You ask in annoyance, reaching for a water bottle, you close the fridge again and turn around to face him. He breaks eye contact the moment you raise your brows in question.

He shrugs, “I wanna graduate next year and Mr. Higgins said that I–”

“Don’t care,” you interrupt him and sigh of boredom.

He looks a little taken aback, furrowing his brows, he stares at you for a moment as he presses his lips back together. When he came here, he didn’t expect you to be so.. mean. Steve only ever knew you as the sweet girl, not once did you treat him badly in all the years he has known you. You never gave him the cold shoulder, not even when he deserved it. You were always kind, gentle and forgiving.

Heartbreak changes a person but not like this, right? What happened in those two months ever since he left?

While Steve tries to figure you out. You try to figure out how to handle this situation.

Should you curse him out and kick him out of your house and show him how hurt you still are? Should you really give him that satisfaction? Or should you pretend to be okay, give him the cold shoulder that you should’ve given him years ago and act like you are fine with this, with working with him?

You opt for the latter. You don’t want him to see the power he still has over you. You don’t want him to see how much you still want him.

You can feel his eyes on you, burning into you, it makes your skin crawl.

You take deep breaths before you look back up at him.

“Don’t you have better things to do on a Thursday night?” You scoff. You know damn well that he never worked on homeworks or assignments when he was still with you, he had ‘better’ things to do. You were the one that did all these things for him.

“Can we just work on this?” He sighs.

You roll your eyes and shrug, “yeah.”

Surprise flashes in his eyes, he didn’t think that it would be that easy to convince you to work with him. For weeks, you wouldn’t even look at him, you wouldn’t even glance into his direction. He figured that it was because of how hurt you were after the breakup but now he begins to doubt that that is why you stopped acknowledging him.

“Come on then,” you mumble as you make your way out of the kitchen, brushing past him. He nods, looking down at the floor, he turns around and follows you into the hallway, turning the light off on the way out.

It feels weird to be back in your house, it feels so familiar yet so… strange. There isn’t much in your room that has changed since the last time he had been in here– only the lack of his things is noticeable to him. The bottle of his cologne that used to be on your dresses is gone and so are the collection of polaroids. He frowns, a weird feeling tugs at his heart. You got rid of everything. It shouldn’t bother him as much as it does. He looks around the room that haunts his dreams– a piece of clothing that neither belongs to you or him is draped over the chair by your desk. It’s a black denim jacket. Clenching his jaw, he wonders if it belongs to Billy. The thought of you wearing his clothes, of you being with him makes him so.. angry.

“Are you just gonna stand there?” You mumble without looking back at him. You are already back on your bed with your notebook in your lap. He stares at you, the moment feels too familiar. He remembers climbing up to your window one night, he wanted to surprise you with flowers. You were sitting on your bed just like you do now but instead of the notebook you had a magazine on your lap and you were wearing pajamas. You looked so cute.

“We gotta settle on a topic,” you say and raise your head to look at him.

Steve’s brows are still furrowed, he still stares at you. He feels confused, irritated and a little hurt. You seem so.. okay. You look at him and talk to him as though nothing ever happened. Are you okay without him? Are you happier without him?

He blinks, snapping himself out of his thoughts, he walks towards your desk, he pulls out the chair and sits down.

“Yeah.. what do you wanna write about?”

You shrug, “I don’t know, we could totally write an essay about snakes, there’s one in my room, right now.”

His lips part and his face scrunches up in confusion, it takes him a moment to realize what you mean. His shoulders slump and he scoffs, “very funny.”

“I know,” you smirk.

“We could write about basketball–”

Your scoff cuts him off, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Or about cheerleading–”

“Are you crazy?”

“I think you know more about cheerleading than I do, you were the one who convinced me to do it after all,” you say, tilting your head at him, “remember?”

He leans back in the chair, spreading his legs, he nods at your words and clenches his jaw, “yeah..”

There is so much tension in your room, his presence makes you angry.

After the initial shock subsided and the sadness turned into anger, you began to curse him for what he did, especially when you found out that he had kissed her while he was still with you. That is something you will never forgive him, the lies and the cheating.

The anger makes you feel stronger, it keeps the sadness away, for the most part, at least.

“How about we do something more classy– although, you don’t do classy, so…”

Steve rolls his eyes at your words, “not like you do it either,” he mumbles.

You snort, not showing him the anger or the annoyance that you are feeling right now. You tilt your head and stare at him in question.

“I mean, given that you fucked Billy Hargrove out of all people,” he says with a looks of distaste on his face.

What?

You almost laugh in his face but you hold yourself back.

He eyes your expression slowly, waiting for a reaction. He expects you to scoff, to look caught, to look embarrassed, to blush or to deny it all– just the way you always denied your attraction to Billy every time he brought it up but he gets nothing from you. Absolutely nothing and it only fuels his anger even more. The burning in his chest and stomach worsens when you look at him with a straight face.

You look at him for a while, not moving, not saying anything, he can’t even read the look on your face. After a while, you sigh and look down at your notebook, “so how about we write an essay about Romeo and Juliet?” You ask, “you know, since it’s the only book you actually ever touched.”

His brows knit together, his cheeks grow red, “are you not gonna say anything?”

His irrational anger amuses you a little but you don’t show it.

You look at him through hooded eyes, not raising your head, “I just did?”

He rolls his eyes and stands up, walking towards you, “I mean about Billy.”

“What about him?”

“Did you sleep with him?” He asks.

His eyes flash with desperation. He wants to know, he needs to know.

How ironic it is to see him beg for an answer when he has no right to even get one. He never gave you the truth so why should you? You are not his anymore.

His eyes are pleading. Why does he want to know? Why does he even care? He has the girl he truly loves, why should it matter what you do or who you do it with?

“So, I’m not sure if you remember the story but in Romeo and Juliet, there’s obviously that tragic ending so–”

“Y/n,” he sighs.

You close your mouth and glare at him, you used to love hearing him say your name, now you hate it.

“Would you rather write an essay about Billy Hargrove?” You ask calmly, giving him a fake smile.

“No,” he rolls his eyes.

“Good, cause I don’t either.”

He runs his fingers through his hair and huffs in frustration, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose.

“We could write about pride and prejudice.”

You lift your chin and look at him in surprise. You used to reread that book all the time, he knows it’s your favorite– he used to steal it out of your hands, reading some of Mr.Darcy’s lines in a mocking way, back then it made you laugh.

“You didn’t even read it,” you murmur.

“I can read it now,” he shrugs, “you still have it, right?”

“We got a week to finish the essay, Steve. It’ll take you days to even finish and understand that book so don’t even bother–”

“No,” he says stubbornly, “I want to.”

You throw your hands up, “why?”

‘Cause you wanted to choose the book for your next essay, you told him that weeks before.. her. ‘Cause you love it so much– or used to love it.

He doesn’t look at you, he stares at the ground and shrugs, “just let me do it, please,” he says, “I can get started on the essay while reading it.”

You try to figure him out. Why is this so important to him? He used to make fun of that book, of you reading so much. He would laugh whenever you offered to read it for him and now he suddenly wants to read it himself?

Sighing, you get up and walk towards your bookshelf. You bend down and reach for the book before you turn back to face him.

It feels weird to see him back in your room– a place he spent so many nights in, a place he used to kiss you in, a place he used to touch you in.

“Here.”

You hold it out to him, keeping distance between the two of you as though you are scared to come near him. His fingertips brush yours when he takes the book from you, warmth spreads across his skin and he finds himself looking at your face.

You quickly pull your hand back and cross your arms over your chest, avoiding his eyes, “well, you should probably get started then,” you mumble, nudging your chin into the direction of your door, subtly kicking him out.

“Yeah,” he breathes and looks back down, eying the cover of your beloved book, “what are you doing tomorrow night?”

Just leave, please. You think to yourself.

“Why?”

“Well, we could start working on it tomorrow,” he offers.

“Yeah sure.” You don’t want to work with him, you don’t want to see him but agreeing to it will get him out of your house sooner, “I’ll call you.”

“Okay.”

You can feel his eyes on you, he is staring and it makes you want to both scream and cry. Leave, just leave.

“I’ll get going.” He steps away, taking one last look at you before he turns around, “good night, y/n.”

You don’t say anything back, you stay silent, refusing to even look at him. You don’t notice the way he halts in his tracks when his eyes fall on the picture on your wall, the only one left of him. Steve knows that you didn’t keep it up because of him but it still makes something inside of him burn. There’s no other reminders of him left, only this one. You could have cut him out but you didn’t, you kept him there. His eyes soften and he glances at you. You are still standing there in the same spot, with your arms crossed and your gaze stuck to the floor. The urge to– no. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to leave.

Your fingernails dig into your arms, you bite your lip as you feel the tears welling up in your eyes. The lump in your throat begins to grow. Why did he show up? You hear him walking down the stairs and it feels like forever until he reaches the door. The sob begins to threaten to escape.

You slowly make your way towards your bedroom door, shutting it quietly. You press your back against it and look up at the ceiling. Tears roll down your cheeks the minute you let your guard down.

“I hate you, Steve Harrington.”

Cold water dribbles down on him, making goosebumps rise up on his skin, he shivers at the feeling but sighs in content when he feels himself getting more energized again. Basketball practice tired him more than usual but that was probably because he stayed up all night, reading pride and prejudice. To his surprise, he ended up liking it more than he thought. Though he can’t stand Darcy for some reason.

Another thing that kept him up was you. Your indifference, your lack of emotions, the anger and the sadness he had seen in your eyes the last time you had looked at him was gone. There is nothing in your eyes now, just simply nothing. It shouldn’t bother him, in fact, it should make him feel relieved to know that you are not hurting anymore but somehow it hurts him to know that you just don’t care anymore.

He didn’t love you but you loved him, at least that’s what he always believed.

Did you realize that you never loved him either?

“What’s wrong, Harrington? Did you realize that you’re a shit player?”

He can’t even help but sigh in annoyance. His jaw clenches and so do his fists. He waited until everyone was done showering, not feeling like interacting with anyone, he didn’t know that Billy was still around, if he knew, he would’ve been the first in the shower.

He opens his eyes and glares at him.

Billy looks at him with a smirk on his face, he turns the water on and closes his eyes as he steps under the stream.

Steve decides to ignore him, turning his head away from him, he reaches for his shampoo with shaky hands. Just the presence of Billy is enough for him to shake out of anger. He hates him so much.

“Heard you were at y/n’s house last night.”

At that, Steve tenses up. How and why does he know? He keeps his eyes down as he begins to wash his hair.

“Yeah, so?”

Billy chuckles, taking a moment to reply.

“What were you doing there?”

“How’s that any of your business?” Steve mumbles in annoyance.

Billy shrugs, narrowing his eyes at him, “when assholes like you go to their ex-girlfriends house it’s usually to fuck,” he says, smirking.

Steve shakes his head, “we’re working on an essay together.”

“Mhm.”

To his surprise, Billy keeps quiet for the remaining time. Steve quickly finishes up and leaves the shower after wrapping a towel around his waist, wanting to escape him as quickly as he can.

Steve can’t stand to be in the same room as him for longer than a minute, he always felt that way about him but especially after hearing those rumors about you and Billy from Tommy and Carol. It still leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

Back in the locker room, he scrunches his face up in disgust, it smells like sweat, too much deodorant and cologne in here. No one is around anymore, everyone has already left.

Steve reaches for his dirty clothes and stuffs them into his duffle bag before he starts getting dressed. He puts on a pair of boxers and his jeans and reaches for his belt when Billy walks back in.

Steve’s jaw feels tense from all the clenching but he can’t stop it. Every time he sees him, he thinks of you and him together. He thinks of you being touched by him, of you being kissed by him, of you being– god, he can’t stand it. He can’t stand the thought of you being touched by Billy Hargrove or any other man for that matter.

He knows that there is a huge chance that you aren’t with him or with anyone else but he can’t be too sure.

“Did you fuck her?”

Billy smirks when the question finally tumbles out of Steve’s mouth, he knows that he has been dying to ask. He stays silent and puts his clothes on instead, taking his time with it.

Steve puts his sweater over his head and turns around to face Billy, who is already staring at him smugly as he dries his hair with the white towel.

Steve’s nostrils flare and he feels like throwing a punch at him already, he clenches his fists, fingernails digging into his palms.

“Why are you asking a question that you already know the answer to?” Billy smirks.

He stiffens a little, gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to do what he so badly wants to do.

“I don’t know the answer, that’s why I’m asking.”

“Why do you want to know?” Billy chuckles as he tilts his head to the side, he throws the towel back on the bench and puts his white tank top on, “you dumped her.”

Billy walks towards him slowly, he looks confident, he always does. He looks directly into his eyes, the smugness remaining on his face.

“Let me tell you something.”

Steve drops his arms to his sides and puffs out his chest, raising his chin slightly. His heartbeat quickens, not out of fear but out of anticipation.

“When you came to school with your new little plaything, she left. I found her behind the school, she was crying.”

Nothing good will come out of his mouth next, Steve already knows it. The thought of you crying over him does little to mend the anger in his chest.

“Wanna know what I did?” Billy asks, raising his brows. He licks his lips and grins a little as he steps closer.

Steve nudges his chin up.

“I took her home and I fucked her so hard that she forgot that you ever existed. In fact, I think a good fuck was all it needed,” Billy chuckles darkly as he looks him up and down, “‘cause you clearly never fucked her good enough.”

Steve is seething, burning and trembling with anger. The smirk on the blond’s face is only fueling his anger.

“Now I’m not the only one,” Billy smirks at the angry look on Steve’s face. His cheeks are red, the brown in his eyes vanished completely, all there is now is blackness. He is not just angry, he is in rage and Billy is loving it. “A little birdie told me that she’s been sneaking around with one of the stoners, so..” Billy laughs, turning around with satisfaction in his eyes.

Steve doesn’t know whether to throw a punch, to scream at him or at himself for feeling this way. He wants to throw up at the thought of you fucking Billy, of you sneaking around with some loser.

Billy grabs his stuff, he puts on his brown leather jacket. He can sense Steve’s anger and it makes him feel more satisfied than ever.

“Let me tell you a little secret, Steve. Girls like her, the ones who get left behind by their daddies, they’re a little damaged but they keep going. They still got a little hope left, but the moment they get their heart broken by some asshole they fall in love with, they’re damaged beyond repair. Even if you come crawling back to her and she ends up being stupid enough to take your sorry ass back, she will never be the same again. You crushed her poor little heart.”

Steve is breathing heavily, his knuckles are white from how hard he is clenching his fist. He would love nothing more than to finally throw that punch but he holds himself back, knowing that it will only make things even worse.

Billy slaps his hand on Steve’s shoulder, narrowing his eyes, he chuckles, “loosen up, King Steve, go and get your little geek. I’ll take care of y/n, I think she’s better off with me anyways. At least she feels something when I fuck her.”

And with that, Billy leaves him standing, knowing the damage he caused, it leaves him more satisfied than ever, to know that he messed with him— to know what it takes to mess with him.

next part

only tagging friends!

@mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @corrodedseraphine @corrodedcorpses @take-everything-you-can @imjuststeddietrashatthispoint @sherrylyn628

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things angst

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cherryblossom-enthusiast · 2 years

Text

Bloom (Joel Millerxf!reader)

A/N: Naaaah whoever decided Joel Miller should be played by Pedro Pascal did it for the people who have daddy issuesssss. Here’s something I whipped out because Pedro leaves in my mind rent free. Pleaseee give me some suggestions or prompts for things to write

I tried starting a tag-list but it literally burned in flames when I tried setting it up. Please just turn on notifications if you would like to be updated for @cherryblossom-enthusiast if you want to keep up with my writing :)

Synopsis: Joel Miller was neither friend or foe. You’ve barely talked to the man considering his reclusiveness. But you can’t stop staring and wanting. Turns out, he can’t stop staring and wanting you either.

Warnings/ Tags: E (18+). Smut bby. Fluff, GrumpyxSunshine (Reader is a florist!), Unprotected PinV, Language, Dirty talk! Joel, Praise Kink, Rough sex, Fingering, SLIGHT spoilers

Word Count: 5.3K Words

Masterlist

Your breath clouds your vision like a puff of white smoke.

Winter. The very word is a tragedy.

Food is harder to come by, light leaves much faster. The world is as bleak as it is and yet winter still cascades around you, turning everything black and white. A lifeless painting.

The chilly wind picks up and a shiver runs through your body.

“Y’good?”

The voice is lazy. Slow.

Warm.

Considering who it’s coming from, the level of warmth is a fucking marvel.

A hulking figure approaches your side. With a deep sigh, you turn your head and you’re met with the most tired eyes you’ve ever seen on someone. No shine, no luster, just an outpour of exhaustion from every small gesture he decides to do.

Joel fucking Miller.

You remember the first time you talked to him all too clearly.

You’d never been friends. Acquaintances even. Makes it a bit hard when the son of a bitch was as recluse as he was. They were the new residents of Jackson. Him and the girl he holds tight to his chest.

You were intimidated by him at first. Joel was all gruff words, long sighs, and blank stares. But the more you paid attention to him, the more you understood how he worked. Especially, when it came to the people he cared about. The man didn’t take shit from anyone. Nobody bothered him, and he returned the favour.

For the most part, that stayed true. Joel was the kind of person who always vied to stay invisible, be like every other person. Unaffected for the most part. But as you start to water your flowers on a clear-skied summer day, you hear him laughing.

The richness of that laugh is still embedded into the deep recesses of your mind.

Joel wasn’t hard to understand as long as you really looked at him and boy did you stare.

You look over to his porch and there he is, “take no shit” Joel Miller with Ellie, teaching her how to play the guitar. You can’t quite remember what they were talking about. Something about “dinosaurs” and “T-rex hands”, but his adoration for the girl was so palpable, so intoxicating.

It was your first time seeing him so- loose. Like he actually gave a damn.

That’s when you knew Joel Miller would burn the world to keep that girl happy.

Ellie’s voice calling your name snaps you out of your thoughts. “How are you doing?!”

The tips of your ears burn, thinking about how weird it must have been staring at the pair for so long. “Enjoying this weather, how are you doing today Ellie?” You flash a bright smile.

She runs off the porch, practically hurling the instrument back at Joel. You hear an oof from the man behind her and you almost let out a small chuckle. Ellie stops in front of you, notebook in hand. The girl was always drawing or writing something. “It’s a great thing you came out,” she starts and pulls a pencil out from her back pocket. “I’ve been meaning to ask all about your pretty flowers.”

“Hopefully I have some answers.”

The girl babbles on about anything and everything she could think of. From what she thought were the coolest flowers, to what colours reminded her of planets. The conversation happens a while. You’d hit every single plant in your garden by the end of it.

Ellie points at your rose bushes with the back of her pencil. She reminds you of a reporter. All serious, wanting to get a big scoop, thirsty for any ounce of information she could get. “How about those? What are those?”

“Ah,” you move away so she can have a better view. “Those are called roses.”

“Uh-huh” She writes enthusiastically in her notebook “and what do those mean?”

“Well, each colour means a different thing, but that colour specifically-“ you point at the flowers behind you using your thumb “red roses, mean passion, affection, and-“ you pause, trying to find the proper words “things akin to love.”

Ellie stops her writing and looks up at you. Her eyebrows are creased and she looks so ridiculously cute it makes you giggle. “Basically, you’d give it to someone you reaallly reaaallly like Ells.”

“Like- Joel?”

That gets a proper laugh out of you. “Not quite.”

She doesn’t seem to be satisfied with your answer but leaves the reply alone. In true Ellie fashion, she moves on by asking another question. “What flower would I be?!”

You pretend to think about it for a moment even though you know exactly what flower you would give her. Not that you’d given that particular question much thought, but you just knew. When you find exactly what you’re looking for, you squat to quickly pluck it from the ground and turn back to Ellie. You outstretch your hand “I think I’ll give you a yellow lilly.”

“What does this one mean?”

You ponder it, letting out a hmmm and place the flower behind her ear. “Well it wouldn’t be special if I had to explain it now would it? I guess you just have to brush up on your flower language.”

Ellie lets out a whine. “But you’re the only who knows anything about plants here!”

“Well, I guess you’ll just have to bother me more.”

A wild smile blooms on her face.

“Ellie!” You turn to discover the owner of the voice behind you. Tommy Miller approaches your direction, carrying a bag of supplies and produce. “You said you’d help Maria with supper tonight!”

Ellie jumps. “Shit!” She runs towards Tommy without a single care in the world. Halfway, she calls back to you and thanks you for your time. Tommy lifts his hand to acknowledge your presence and in return you lift your hand back to wave goodbye. Before you know it, the pair disappears, Ellie eagerly asking Tommy if he knew what her new flower meant.

“She’ll be talking to everyone bout’ flowers for while.”

Shoulders tensing, you swivel your head to your side. Joel stands beside you, hands in his pockets, a small smile gracing his face.

It catches you off guard completely. In the months you had spent as his neighbour, Joel had never spoken even a mere sentence to you. There was acknowledgement, maybe a simple wave, that nod men his age do when they want to greet a passerby. But hearing him direct his words to you hits you like a wave. A tsunami of shock.

He seems to notice your plight and his once loose posture turns rigid. “Sorry,” he mumbles “I should stop botherin ya-“

You shake your head in defense. “No, no, it’s just-“ Letting the tension roll of your shoulders, you sigh out a laugh and extend your hand, introducing yourself. He clasps it with his own and your arm goes limp. His hand is larger, the callouses hard against your skin. It should feel weird, uncomfortable even, but none of those feelings come to mind.

“Joel Miller, nice to meet you.”

Maybe you were silly for expecting more, but nothing really happens after that.

There were some conversations about small favours and errands here and there, but not to anyone’s surprise, Joel’s got more than one hard layer of rock. He’s as immovable as a mountain. You naturally went back to the role of spectator. Stupid little crush that wouldn’t go away.

How could it when he was the man that he was.

He repeats his question from earlier and it finally snaps you back to your current reality. You were in the middle of rounds during this god-forsaken weather. “Y’good?”

Joel wasn’t even supposed to be your patrol partner. You had gotten wind that your original partner caught hold of the flu and since Joel was otherwise wide open for the afternoon other than indulging other people’s requests, he took up the opportunity. The walk started off as awkward. You didn’t know what to say or how to approach him so it stayed quiet for the majority of the time, but the more you walked, the more comfortable it became. Usually, going out of Jackson’s walls still scared you. Having Joel by your side gave you a bit more re-assurance. You aren’t oblivious. Everyone knows how brutal he can become.

You shrug and look back at the vast expanse of land in front of you, overseeing from the cliff you were on. “’Just enjoying the natural splendour.”

Joel stays silent for a small while but replies. “I’d believe you more if you didn’t look like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like you’d get into a ring and fight winter one-on-one”

The comment makes you scoff. “I’m tough as nails Miller.” You stare directly into his impenetrable eyes. “I’m sure I can handle a little snow.”

-------------------

Joel opens the door to a safehouse, making sure not to drop his gun until he knows for sure the area is safe. Once he’s satisfied, he leans the shotgun against the wall and motions for you to come in with a nudge of his head.

Both of you had been making record time getting back, but not even a racehorse could outrun the storm starting to brew. Halfway through your trudge back, Joel pats your shoulder, explaining that with the poor winter jackets the both of you were wearing and the wind whipping your faces, it’d be best to stop by a small cabin him and Tommy scouted a few rounds back. Not wanting to freeze to death, you obviously agreed to the idea.

It left you here.

Setting your bag down, rubbing your hands together, patiently waiting for Joel to start a fire in the hearth.

Joel.

Alone with Joel.

He stands up from his crouching position and turns back to you. “You’re free to set-up your sleeping bag closer to the fire.”

“Oh, no- no, it’s alright.” You speak quickly. Almost too quickly. “You made the fire, I think you deserve to enjoy the fire.”

“But-“

“I insist.” You state it in a tone that says “that’s final”.

The man sighs. “Alright ma’am, whatever ya say.”

The two of you unroll your packs, splaying your sleeping bags so that your toes are towards the hearth. You take off your boots and sit on your make-shift bed. It was uncomfortable, you haven’t had to sleep on one in a while, but you’d gladly take anything over having to stay outside. Joel follows suit.

“Turns out I couldn’t handle a little snow.” You remark.

A small puff of air comes out of him. Coming from Joel, it may as well have been a full-blown laugh. You turn to take a glimpse at him and another small smile is on his lips. It’s only the second time you’ve ever seen one on him and it knocks all the air out of you just like it did the first time.

He’s distracted and that’s when you take the time to really focus on him. He looks softer in the firelight, the whites in his hair more prominent, his usual dark eyes having a glow to them. He looks less- burdened, and with that smile on his face, dare you say, despite your current situation, just the tiniest bit peaceful.

“You should do that more.” The words slip out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“What?”

“Smile.”

Like a toddler caught with the cookie jar, a crook caught in the headlights, Joel tenses and you mentally punch yourself in the face. His face goes back to the stoic front he usually puts on.

“Sorry, I was just-“ you start to apologize.

“It’s fine.”

Silence once again ensues. The air becomes as awkward as it was before.

“So-“

“What-“

You both talk at the same time. Joel gestures to you, asking you to go first.

“I was just gonna ask what we could do to kill time.”

Joel shrugs and continues to stare at the fire. “We could always just sleep.”

“Nah c’mon-“you push “don’t be such a bore.” You ponder some more and think of an idea. “How about twenty questions?” Your rounds partner says nothing, and you take the chance to convince him even more. “I’ve lived beside you a whole year and know nothin about you-“

“Probably for the best.”

Oh.

You understand. Of course, you do. But you can’t stop the small twinge of disappointment growing in your chest anyways.

When he makes the statement, you pull back. “Sorry, I just wanted to know more about you.” You fiddle with your nails. “Been staring at you for god knows how long and the most I’ve gathered is you like wood work.”

Joel perks up at your confession.

Dumb.

So dumb of you to admit that.

“You’re right, it’s better if we just go to-“

“No, let’s play.”

His sudden change of attitude to your idea throws you in for a loop. “Really? You sure?”

“That your first question you’re wastin’ darlin’?”

Your already tired brain short circuits at the nickname. “What?” No- I-“

The man has an amused look plastered all over his face. “Okay, well- shoot then.”

You think up of something stupid on the spot. “Favourite movie?”

“None. Got too many.” He answers.

“What? Well that’s not-“

“My turn.” He cuts you off once more. “Favourite flower?”

It doesn’t even take you a second to respond. “Oh easy, the lotus flower.” You ponder your next question. “One thing you don’t like?”

“Smiling.”

That gets a genuine chuckle out of you.

“Your thoughts on coffee?” He continues.

Your nose wrinkles “Bitter garbage.”

He puts his hands up to surrender. “I respect wrong answers.”

“Pet Peeve?”

He looks up at the ceiling and takes a moment to really think about it. “When I have nothing good to trade for coffee.” He takes another few seconds to think of another good question before he hits the lottery. “Why don’t you like winter so much?”

A loaded and good question indeed.

You shrug. “Cause.”

You get an eyebrow raise. “Cause?”

“Cause I don’t know-“ You go back to picking at your nails. It’s become a habit, doing it every time you’re nervous. “The world already looks dead and winter comes along and makes it even more dead.”

“That why you like flowers so much?”

It was your turn to raise an eyebrow. “You’re not even letting me ask a question before you ask me another one?”

This flusters him. “No, I just-“

Embarrassed Joel Miller. Never thought you’d get to check that off your bingo card.

A wide smile breaks on your lips. “ I’m just kidding, Joel.” He lets out a sort of grumble and it makes you smile even wider. “That’s a part of it sure.” Your eyes haze over as you start to remember life as it once was. “My folks were florists” you start to explain “before all this shit went down.” It was a small shop, with wide glass windows, and plants of every kind. “Hated it. Didn’t want anything to do with em’ especially my father, some dumb teenage kid who thought it was embarrassing.” You scoff. “But taking care of plants was the only thing I was good at, held it to my chest like a life-line.”

Memories play in front of you like an old film. Sometimes you forget that there was something before all of this.

All this carnage.

All this wreck.

“Before my dad died, not to this, thank god, he kept on trying to take care of the shop.” You recall his pale ill-stricken face and frail hands. “I got mad, made a fuss, yelled why he’d take care of some dumb flowers but not himself, and you know what he said?”

You remember his words, as clear as crystal, even twenty years later.

“Isn’t it a wonderful thing that these flowers still grow? Despite all the noise and all the chaos, something as beautiful and as frail as this is surviving. When I think of the way I’m helping that, I can’t possibly suffer.”

Joel stays silent at your admission.

You notice that you may have gone a little overboard.

Jesus- dump it all on him why don’t you?

Trying to make the mood lighter, you quickly change the subject. “Besides, when it’s summer, Ellie visits me more.” Joel Miller chuckles at the mention of the girl. You decide then it’s definitely one of your favourite sounds. “I like seeing the two of you together.”

“Hm?”

“You both always seem so lost in your own world. Nice to see, considering you got that grumpy scowl on all the time.”

“That right?”

“Uh-huh.”

He slowly nods, gazing back at the fire. “Some of us aren’t monsters and smile 24/7 like you do.”

You’re offended by the comment. “Wha- I do not!” You exclaim. “What’s wrong with smiling anyways?”

Even more chuckling. He’s getting real comfortable with doing that. “Nothing, when it comes to you anyways” he remedies “But you do it all the time, watering people’s yards, baking them an apple pie, hell, I’m pretty sure you laughed when you slipped on ice this morning. You got your emotions all over your face you know that? Infects all of Jackson.” He takes a slight pause. “Reminds me of Ellie.”

“Oh god, you saw that this morning?”

“Oh yeah,” He teases, words elongated in that Southern drawl. “Mitts flying into the air and everything.”

Your face practically feels like an oven. “How do you even know about all of that?”

Joel shrugs. “Cause.”

“Cause?”

“Maybe you haven’t been the only one staring for god knows how long.”

Time stops.

Suddenly, air doesn’t matter, heat doesn’t even come close to existing. A supernova could happen, and you’d sit here just as shell-shocked. Nothing matters other than Joel.

Joel and his stupid accent.

Joel and what he just said with that stupid accent.

You swallow thickly and bless your heart, you don’t know what comes over you, but you take a chance to keep pushing. “You think I’m gonna “infect you” with tons of smiles soon too, cowboy?”

He doesn’t reply all to quickly, and for those couple of seconds where all you can here is the fire crackle and the wind whipping outside, it feels like a brick ton is laid upon your shoulders.

“Maybe you already have.”

Goddamn.

All the stolen glances you’ve taken of him flashes in your mind.

“Joel,” you mutter. The man beside you continues to stare at the fire, refusing to make eye contact with you. “Joel.” You repeat, more firm with your tone.

He finally decides to look in your direction and God- your heart pounds so hard, you think it might just come out of your chest. Those eyes. Those damn coffee-coloured eyes of his that usually looks so cold, so despondent are the warmest colour of molten chocolate you’ve ever seen. You can tell he’s clenching his jaw and the view almost knocks you out cold.

With a shaky breath, you start to messily list all the things you’ve always wanted to say. “Tell me now if I’m taking this the wrong way so I don’t keep embarrassing myself, but I swear to everything I hold sacred, if I don’t kiss you right now, I’m going to have a very frustrating ni-“

A growl from Joel cuts you off and before you know it, he’s crossing oceans to get to you. A strong hand grips you by the neck, and firm lips plant themselves squarely on yours.

It’s pathetic how fast you keen under his touch, how fast you grab the collar of his shirt to draw him closer to you. You open your mouth to moan and he takes that chance to slip his tongue inside of your mouth. It’s dizzying, downright intoxicating the way Joel kisses you. The way you’re kissing each other is every look, every stare, every word that was ever left unsaid between the both of you that’s exploding into something cosmic.

You lift yourself up and straddle his lap. You press down and feel the growing hardness in Joel’s jeans. He groans into your mouth and you continue to press your hips down farther.

Joel stops kissing you. A needy whine escapes your lips. “Are you sure you want this darlin’?”

Your panting is heady. “Joel if you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll have the liberty of fucking myself with my fing-“

You know you sound downright hopeless, but you’ve been wanting for so damn long.

He flips you down onto the sleeping bags so fast, you don’t even have time to finish. He rucks up your shirt and starts to pepper small kisses from the center of your breasts, down to your stomach. It makes you whimper as you continue to finish taking of your top.

Joel gets to quickly unbuttoning the rest of your clothes, peeling the jeans off of your body until all you have on is your bra and panties. He hovers over you and takes off his own shirt. He’s all muscle and hard chest. The mere sight of him shirtless drenches your underwear faster. He takes a few seconds to peer at your half-naked form. “Damn, you’re a sight.”

“So are you.” You admit in a small voice.

He wastes no time, delving back in between your legs. He slides down your underwear and immediately ghosts his fingers over your cunt. Shivers run down your body as your eyes close in bliss.

“You imagine it was my fingers?” His dark voice pulls you back.

“Ever since I first set my eyes on you Miller.” You heatedly reply.

“Great,” he pushes two fingers inside you making you boom a moan towards the ceiling. “Been thinking it was your fingers around my cock too.

He works into you, his fingers large and stocky. Joel starts off slow, languid, making sure to tease every reaction out of you. You don’t think it’s possible to get wetter than you already are, but every thrust of his fingers proves you wrong. He curls both at the same time, and your hips immediately lift from the pressure. Joel pushes you down with his other hand. “Na-ah darlin’,” That southern drawl of his is deeper, lazier than usual “I finally got you where I want you, you’re not going anywhere.”

As he keeps your hips down with his palm, Joel increases the speed of his fingers. “Why didn’t-“ you choke “you do anything earlier then?”

A mocking scoff leaves him. “You’re too good for me, doll. Got too many issues. “

“Then why now?”

“Because I’m still a selfish fucking asshole.” He groans, rotating his thumb around your clit. “And when you sit in front of me, all flushed and pretty, asking me to fuck you, how could I possibly have the strength to say no?”

You see Joel spit on your slit and it’s what does it for you. A rush of electricity passes through your body and it renders you senseless. You mewl and twist in his hold, but Joel makes sure to hold you through your orgasm.

Your mind is hazy, it turns into a mixture of fog and smoke, but your refuse to leave him hanging. After a few seconds, you prop yourself up and kneel right in front of him. Not breaking eye contact for even a moment, you take your hand and start to palm his length over his jeans. He trembles beneath you, jaw clenching as he lets out a groan. You slowly unbuckle his belt, pulling down the rest of his clothing and waste no time finally gripping him directly.

Shit, you knew a man like him would be big, but this is-

The sound that comes from Joel’s throat is devastating. Somewhere between pant and moan, losing total control. He thumps his head on your shoulder, seeking out the crook of your neck. You continue to work his cock, building up speed, tightening your grip. His tip leaks pre-cum and the way he bunches up your hair desperately, like he needs to hold onto something to keep from losing control only prompts you to keep going. The feeling of power is addicting. “Don’t mess with me” Joel Miller keening under your touch.

He suddenly pulls your hair and it’s enough of a shock to make you stop your hand and whine. “I know you’re having fun doll, but you keep doing that and I’ll finish. Waited too damn long for that to happen.” He grabs you by the hips and flips you over making you let out a small yelp. He positions you so that your ass is towards him. “Bend.” He orders.

So you do.

He palms your ass and gives it a spank. “Do you know how long I’ve been wanting to touch this? Flaunting it around-“ He squeezes “shoving it in my direction, wearing those pretty dresses of yours.”

“Ever think it was on purpose?”

There’s another slap to your ass to respond to your comment.

He lines up his cock to your entrance, gliding his tip to coat it in your wetness. You quiver, breath hitching, skin prickling.

“If I fuck you, there’s no going back for me darlin’, if you want me to stop you have to tell me right now.”

You groan in frustration. “Fuck me Joel, please just-“

He buries his full length into you all in one thrust.

You think you’re ascending to heaven, knocking on the pearly white gates itself. He gives you a couple of seconds to get accustomed to his massive size. “You okay?”

“Mmhm?” Is all you can make out, trying to nod your head that’s pressed up against your sleeping bag.

“Good,” he starts to move as you cry out in pleasure. “Tell me to stop and I will, but otherwise-“ He shoves himself even deeper. “I’m not holdin’ back.”

Joel sets up a brutal pace from the beginning. He grips your ass tight, making sure you’re taking everything he has to give and all you can do is let him. There’s nowhere for you to go as he drives his hips into you, fully filling you up with every fast snap of his hips. To say it’s overwhelming would be a complete understatement.

Are you sure this is the same Joel Miller? Cool, calm, composed Joel Miller that has everyone quaking in their boots the minute he holds a knife or a gun. Because right now, he’s so undone. There’s no pattern to the way he moves in you, no finesse, just pure want.

He places his hand that was on your ass to your scalp. He pulls you up using your hair and once you’re flush against his back, he grasps your neck, continuing his unrelenting tempo to your pussy. You tighten around him.

“You like that huh?” He comments in an amused tone. “Who knew the town sweetheart was so fucking naughty like this.” You want to try and come up with a witty response, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. “Actually, don’t tell me. I’d kill anybody who does know.”

His thumb raises to your lips and you take the liberties of sucking it into your mouth. His hold on your neck slackens and the sudden rush of oxygen to your head has you teetering on the edge of consciousness. He takes his arm that’s around your stomach and travels it down further to your swollen cunt. Joel starts to roll your clit between his fingers and you think you’ll really black-out then.

“God, such a good girl, even when taking cock.” He whispers into your ear. You clench around him even harder this time and he knows you’re close. “You gonna come doll? Gonna come on my cock?”

A needy whine escapes your throat. Each roll, each rut, each jerk, grows more intense as each second passes. “C’mon,” he coaxes “do it.” With one last pinch to your sensitive clit, your muscles tighten and heat spreads across your skin. Your walls flutter and as your eyes roll back, vision blurring, you are hurled into your climax. With a choked sob, you slump forwards and the only thing helping you stay up is Joel’s hold. He follows you shortly after, sputtering your name on his lips. Pulling out quickly, he comes on your back.

Joel slowly lowers down the both of you, making sure not to crush you with his weight from behind. It was so gentle, so benign you struggled to relate it to the man furiously fucking you just a few moments earlier. Nothing but your pants fill the air for a while. You’re sticky all over, sweat and come coating your skin. Your body was buzzing from both pain and pleasure, but you couldn’t care less.

You roll your body so you can look at him. Joel’s face was and wasn’t everything you expected it to look like. You expect the flush, the hair sticking to his forehead, the clench of his jaw. What you don’t expect is the softness in his usual impenetrable gaze.

“I’m sorry.” He grumbles.

Your eyebrows knit and you place a palm against his cheek. Joel all but melts into your touch. “What for?”

“For wanting you this much.”

Taking both your arms, you wrap them around his neck and pull him towards you. He lays against you, hie ear right beside your mouth. “Thank you.” You whisper.

“What for?

“Wanting me this much.”

You hear his sharp intake of air and smile. You continue to pet his hair, peppering small kisses on his forehead. “I want you too, Joel.”

“You shouldn’t.” He mutters a tired reply.

“But I do.” You take a deep breath and let him know all your thoughts. “I want all your grumpy stares, and your grunted words- You pause to give him another kiss “Your silent kindness, and that rare smile of yours.” Joel doesn’t say anything back so you continue to talk. “All of it. Will you let me have all of it?”

He pulls himself back, just enough to gaze back at you, full of admiration. “Just let me have all of you too.”

The beating of your heart doesn’t speed, doesn’t flutter past the finish line, instead opting for a slow steady pace, But the feeling in your chest was so heavy, so full, that you couldn’t mistake it for anything other than devotion. You grin from ear to ear. “Who would be able to say no at getting a chance to annoy you with more conversation.”

He lifts an eyebrow, and it only makes your heart fill up with even more with adoration.

This man that you’ve been pining for, holding you close here. Now.

You don’t know what will happen tomorrow. Hell, you don’t know what will happen a few seconds from now, how this whole unpolished attraction between the two of you will buff out. The wind is still howling outside, whipping away at all the destruction and the carnage happening around you, but for now the world is still. The both of you are inside this cabin in the woods and for now, you don’t think, don’t plan, only exist and it is everything.

Maybe later you can hope that in this winter, something beautiful and strong can grow too.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s late in the evening when you finally get to relax the next day. Once the both of you had returned to Jackson, there were too many errands that had to be rushed in the time that you missed. Nothing else could be said other then a quick farewell between each other.

As you drag your exhausted body up the stairs of your porch, you almost don’t notice the flower in front of your doorstep, nearly stepping on it.

A wave of warmth comes rushing up from your toes.

You beam as you crouch and pick up a singular red rose attached with a note that says “Come over. We didn’t finish our game of twenty questions.”

- - - - - - - -

Want More?

#the last of us #tlou #Joel miller #Joel miller x reader #Joel miller x you #Joel Miller x y/n #Ellie #Pedro Pascal #bella ramsey #thelastofus #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfic #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #smut

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lovers-rck · 9 months

Text

bubble gum

summary ellie hids something in her notebook

content friends to lovers, ellie williams x fem!reader

☆

"do you want to see that movie that i told you about?"

you make a face, looking at the weird pink thing on the ceiling "is that gum?"

ellie follow your gaze and cringe "i don't know what you are talking about"

"that, on your ceiling"

"there's nothing in the ceiling" she says, avoiding your gaze and playing with her pen.

"yeah there is!" you replie "look there"

"maybe you are high"

"what? that makes zero... whatever"

ellie's face displays a victorious smile as she keeps drawing in her sketchbook "so... you want to see that movie? jesse told me that was super scary"

you were laying down in ellie's bed, outside was raining. you kept looking at the gum in the ceiling as you scrunched your nose "i don't know. im not in the mood for a scary movie"

ellie rolled her eyes. she had already seen the movie, but maybe if she pretended not to have seen it before to watch it with you maybe, just maybe, you would snuggle up to her in the scary parts. or whatever.

"pussy" she murmurs. her pencil traces long sketches on the rough paper

"you are so annoying" you say as you sit in the bed, finger brushing your hair "what are you drawing?"

ellie shakes her head "nothing" she is sitting at the head of the bed, with her back against the wall. some thread of hair are resting in her face, tickling her skin, and you have the urge to put those annoying locks behind her ear.

but you don't.

"let me see" you say

you crawl between the sheets, sitting across from ellie, who is holding the sketchbook strangely tightly.

"it's just doodles"

"okay" you replie "i want to see them"

"is shit"

"all your work is shit to you" you rolled your eyes "i never get to see your drawings"

"you are so noisy, has anyone ever told you that?" ellie says

you stick out your tongue playfully and when ellie laughs you grab her sketchbook quickly. ellie is quick too and lunges at you, your body getting pinned between the mattress and ellie's body.

you two become a jumble of wrestling arms and hands "give it back" ellie yells, half laughing half angry "no!" you scream, holding the sketchbook above your head "bitch!" you yell when ellie bites your shoulder

you hear ellie's laugh and take that opportunity to open the sketchbook above her head, where she can't reach in that position.

you always wanted to see what ellie did in that notebook, always curled up in the pages sketching something. you noticed how she always carried a pen and that notebook everywhere she goes, drawing something time to time.

so your surprise is genuine when you go through the pages and find various drawings of you.

you laughing with jesse. you with some dogs. you and that stupid frog stuffed animal she gave you. you smiling. and the most recent sketch, half way finished; you laying down in her bed, just like you were a couple minutes ago.

the drawings are beautiful, quickly but really good studies of you. if you squint your eyes a bit, you can see where she erased some lines to redraw them more accurately.

you flinch when ellie's hand interrupt your surprise by grabbing and closing the notebook. she moves away from you and you sit down.

ellie is sitting a couple inches away from you, avoiding your gaze and hugging that sketchbook like a kid hugging her favorite toy.

your lack of words was not exactly due to the drawings. you knew that this was normal and that ellie used to draw people she knew, you were in moments where she decided to walk away and draw the moment, immortalizing it on paper.

your lack of words was due to what the scribbles and words around the drawings meant. little hearts, short confessions of love and silly doodles were the things your eyes could decipher in the short seconds you held the notebook in your hands.

"ellie"

"i told you that they were stupid drawings" she replied, her voice tinged with rage and shame.

she felt idiot. too idiot to fall in love with her friend . too dumb to draw her friend when she was distracted, trying to capture every tiny detail that make you special with a stupid pen in a stupid notebook. too idiot to think about you in that way.

"they are not" you murmur

"yes they are" she feels so ashamed "i should throw this thing to the trash can"

you feel how angry and ashamed she is and your mind just can think of the dumbest or smartest response that has ever you occurred.

so you kiss her.

you fingertips feel the soft skin of her cheeks as you press your lips against hers. you don't move, too afraid to do something, so for a couple of seconds your lips just stay there, warming eachothers flesh.

when you feel that you had made the stupidest decision ever you move away, panicking and mumbling sorry's. your hands leaves ellie's cheeks, to embarrassed to even look at her.

"im sorry" you murmur "im sorry ellie. i don't know who gave me the right to do that. im sorry" you look at the door of her room "maybe i should go. sorry"

but before you can go, ellie kisses you back. her grip is more stronger that yours, her hand resting in the back of your head, moving you against her.

she moves her lips this time. her mouth moves against yours, deepening the kiss quickly. hungry.

she pushes you closer to her, moving you in a way that you end up in her lap, with your hands in her neck, kissing her like your life depends on it.

you can feel the same response from her. her hands are everywhere, squeezing and touching and caressing every part of your body as fast as she can, too excited to keep her hands in one place.

a few moments later you move away from your mouth, searching for air. she looks at you.

everything is very awkward for a couple of seconds before you two start laughing.

ellie's chest moves as she laughs with embarrassment "god" she mouths

you laugh too "confessing your love for me trough drawings" you say "fucking drama queen"

ellie hide her face with her hands "shut up. im embarrassed"

"as you should"

"idiot" she murmurs, taking her hands off her face "can i kiss you again?"

you roll your eyes.

but you nod.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams lesbian #lesbians #friends to lovers #tlou #the last of us #ellie williams fanfic #ellie the last of us

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hurts2think · 2 months

Note

Could you maybe do Hook x gn!reader? Reader as Zellie’s sibling aka Rapunzel and Eugene’s son. Maybe reader is a painter like Rapunzel and Hook is the muse and I dunno sumthing silly like that. I’m obsessed with Tangled right now so :PPP

🏴‍☠️Young!James Hook x GN!Reader🏴‍☠️

Reader pronouns: They/them

Pairing: Young James Hook x GN!Reader

Plot: Reader is the child of Rapunzel and took on the same artistic hobby of being a painter. They have a final project due but can't find the perfect muse. That is, until an annoying boy shows up who might be perfect.

Word Count: 1.7K

Extra: I feel like maybe I write too much dialogue idk. Do you guys prefer more dialogue or more text? Anyway, I hope you Hook fans like this!

Being the child of Rapunzel, it’s no surprise you took on an artistic hobby. Even your sister, Zellie did fun hairstyling and colorful outfits, but you kept it more traditional. Traditional in the sense that you keep it simple and just paint. Painting, drawing, and sketching, anything like that.

You found yourself doodling every time you had a pencil in your hand, half of your jeans are painted with little stars and flowers just from absent minded doodling while coming up with a real project.

This obsession naturally landed you in advanced art classes. Which was of course your favorite class of the day. You had just finished a landscape painting for an assignment that took you longer than it should have, (you were never very good with landscapes) but now that the project is over, that just means it was time for the next.

But this project was your final exam for the year. A portrait. Not a self portrait, but a portrait of someone else at school. There was also a paper that had to be written with it about technique and color theory but that was the boring part. Now you were too busy thinking of the possibilities for your muse!

You were fairly popular at school, especially considering you were royalty. But you were also just nice and charming to many of the people around you, so it usually wasn’t hard to ask people for help with your projects. But… your issue this time being that it was the end of the year. Most people were busy with their own end of the year exams and projects.

You asked Bridget first, who apologized a dozen times about how she couldn’t help this time because she was so overwhelmed with a new recipe she was trying for her culinary final. Then you asked Ella who said she had too much to study for and that she couldn’t do anything after school because she had to go home for chores. And anyone else you asked had similar responses.

In the dining hall you sat by yourself and stared at your notebook, trying to come up with anyone else you could ask. It was a free period so the hall was pretty empty since most of the students spent their time out at the courtyard. The quiet always helped you focus so you weren't complaining about being alone there.

Just as you were about to cross out another name on your list, the notebook was suddenly shoved off the table and replaced by someone hopping up to sit there instead of in a chair.

"Whoops. Be more careful with your things." The boy smirked as he crossed one leg over the other.

"Hook." You sighed, picking up the notebook. He thought he was funny for the way he picked on you and others, but really it wasn't that amusing.

You never understood why he decided to pick on you so much, it's not like you ever did anything to him. But at least his bullying was hardly considered bullying. Just a snarky comment here and there with a mocking smirk.

"What's their royal highness doing by themselves? Your mates finally ditch you?" He asked with the same old stupid grin he always had on. How you wish you could take a frying pan to his face and wipe it off sometimes.

"No. I'm trying to work on a project and you're kind of distracting me." You mutter with an annoyed huff.

"Distracting you? That's what I'm best at, darling."

Honestly you weren't really in the mood for this. Usually you'd just laugh and shrug him off since you never saw much harm in him, he just liked attention. But after spending all day working on a project you can't even start has frustrated you beyond belief. You suddenly stood up as if to stand your ground, "You know what, Hook? I've had it with your—" You abruptly stopped speaking.

Hook just looked at you with a mocking grin, clearly not taking you seriously. But the way he sat with his legs crossed, leaned back, and his hook hand held near his face suddenly struck you with inspiration and your annoyment quickly flooded away.

James Hook. He would be the perfect muse for your project. He's elegant with every move he makes, he's undeniably beautiful, and not overwhelmingly proper. His darker demeanor contrasts the elegant position in just the perfect way.

"Oh my gosh." You held your hand to your chest as if you had the most beautiful life changing epiphany ever. You tended to be a little dramatic like that.

"Hmm?" He hummed, clearly a little confused by whatever was going on inside your head.

Your eyes were practically glowing from all of the ideas running in your head, "Hook, you're perfect." Was all that came out of your lips.

The pretty blunt compliment seemed to also confuse Hook, "Yes..." He agreed but still looked at you, waiting for you to supply more context. "And?"

His ego might just be big enough to agree to help you with your project, "Have you ever thought about... Modeling?" You asked, tilting your head to the side, taking in his entire appearance.

----

It was no surprise he enthusiastically agreed. On the way to the art room (that was thankfully empty) he only spoke about his looks and how you'd definitely get an A+ on your project thanks to him. Of course he also wanted to keep the portrait after it's been graded and given back to you. You never really took the self absorbed things he said seriously, they mostly just made you chuckle. It was kind of funny the way he spoke so confidently about himself, considering he wasn't exactly the first person people were lining up to be friends with or date.

You never really hated Hook. Sure, he pissed you off and his friends weren't the greatest either, but you never saw him as big and bad as he wished he was. For a pirate at least, he wasn't very scary. Mostly mildly annoying.

You couldn't say the same for his friend, Uliana. She was definitely the more brutal one of the VKs, which made sense considering she was their 'leader' or something. You mostly tried to steer clear from them, but somehow always had you and Hook running into each other.

"Could you please stop moving? Just hold still for ten minutes." You asked of him sternly. You sat in front of the easel while Hook sat gracefully on the desk in front of you. Well, not very graceful anymore. His pose became slouched and bored after only five minutes of him standing there.

"It's been an hour, can't I move now? Let me see it so far." He complained, frowning at the boredom of just sitting there.

"No. It's not done and if you move then it's going to be impossible for you to sit back correctly again." You explained, eyes not leaving the canvas.

You should have expected this behavior, but you were a little too excited about the process, you forgot who exactly you were dealing with. Every ten or so minutes he'd ask if he could move and you'd have to snap at him to stay still.

Though the next time you looked back up, your eyes narrowed at him shifting and moving, "James! You're moving too much. Tilt your head back to the right."

He rolled his eyes and tilted his head as you said.

"Not your right, my right— Okay, actually," You stood up and walked over to him, grabbing his face and angling it in the correct position.

"Ya know, you should ask me on a date first before getting handsy." He smirked, looking you in the eye.

You give him a skeptical look before taking your hands off of him, "Just stop moving. And keep quiet too." It was impossible to hide your own smirk. You really couldn't help it.

You walk back to your canvas and stare at Hook for a second, picking up your paint brush. Despite you telling him to keep quiet and stop moving, it didn't take long before he started talking again. Mostly gossip and stupid stuff that didn't really matter.

After another long while you finished the painting. Well, not really. You still had details and things to change but you got the base of what you want. It looked pretty much complete to anyone who wasn’t a painter, but it wasn’t quite. It was finished enough to where you didn’t really need Hook anymore though.

“Okay! You can see it now.” You grinned, clearly bursting with excitement. It really turned out better than you imagined.

Your muse sitting on a windowsill with only a little light trickling on his face and overgrown dark plants and roses surrounding. It was definitely darker than you usually painted but it turned out amazing. Using the Flowers to frame his face but the rest being overgrown vines, it really felt like the right artistic decision.

Hook wasted no time to get up and look, resting his arm on your shoulder. His eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, “Wow.” Was all he said at first. You looked at him, hoping he’d say something else or some kind of approval. “Are you in love with me or something?” He grinned, looking from the painting to you.

You chuckled and rolled your eyes, “You wish.”

Based on that statement though, it was clear he liked it. Of course he was always open to someone making something in his image, but he really never expected someone to draw him so elegant and pretty. If anything, he expected something scarier. But you managed to make the painting dark and dramatic but still beautiful. He really was the perfect muse.

“Really? So the royal painter doesn’t want a kiss for their hard work in capturing my beauty?” He teased, taking your hand with his hook and leaning in as if he was about to try and kiss you.

“Try anything and you’re face wont be so pretty anymore.” You threatened with a light hearted laugh, pushing him away.

“Ouch.” Hook dramatically held his hand to his heart as if you’d stabbed him before grinning. Maybe you should’ve admired his beauty a little sooner. He could’ve been very helpful to your other countless projects.

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