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#whereas now i play whatever i feel like
smallboyonherbike · 2 years
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how many decades will i do this for? who knows but i'm having fun!!
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izels-writing · 2 months
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j. potter — 5 times james showed you he loved you + the 1st time he said it
Pairing: james potter x childhood best friend!fem!reader
Summary: james is in love with you, as you are with him.
Warnings: longer than usual, FLUFFF, a bit specific (y/n have a big family and nut allergy), a break up (not james ), confession scene is bad but i feel that’s what childhood best friend love confession would look like😭, ALSO I USED A LITTLE DIALOGUE FROM GILMORE GIRLS AND B99 BC I JUST HAD TO OKAY IT WAS FUNNY
a/n: i tried so hard with this one, pls tell me if u like it! it’s a bit different than my usual writing
august 12th, 1969:
"what're you two doing?" euphemia potter asked, a small smile gracing her lips as she noticed you and james sat across each other on his bedroom floor.
you placed your piece down, grinning at james' utter disappointment as you took his piece in the process. he groaned.
"we're playing muggle chess," he told his mother. "and y/n's beating me!"
you smiled. "i told him it wasn't as easy as he thought!" you countered, noticing euphemia's chuckle.
"well, it's getting late you two," she said. "i don't suppose you two expect to be up until the wee hours playing this game," though she tried to be stern, you and james knew how incapable she was when it came to the two of you.
"mum! we're nine now! can't we just have a little bit longer? nine o'clock it too early," james complained. "how about ten thirty?"
euphemia crossed her arms in thought. "how about ten o'clock?"
"ten-twenty," james countered.
"ten-fifteen," euphemia concluded, "take it or leave it,"
"we'll take it!" you exclaimed. james nodded in agreement, though, he always agreed with whatever you said.
you supposed that was part of the best friends thing.
you and james had been best friends since you were five years old, when your parents inherited the house next door to his—which was a blessing given the large family you had. three brothers, two sisters, and you—making a total of six kids. your three bedroom apartment wasn't cutting it anymore at that point.
so, to escape your loud and obnoxious family, you often spent all of your time at the potters. it helped that you and james didn't go to school, given euphemia taught you at home. out of all of your siblings, only you and two of your brothers had inherited magic. whereas the rest of them had to attend muggle school, you, james, and your two brothers were homeschooled by euphemia.
and everyone knew since the day you moved in, you and james were inseparable.
"alright then, either of you fancy a snack?" euphemia asked. "i don't want either of you eating too late,"
"no, thank you, mrs. potter," you replied with a small smile.
"yeah, we're okay mum, thank you," james added.
"of course," euphemia grinned. she eerily looked like a girl version of james when she did grinned, you supposed that's why you found her so comforting. "and y/n, dear, how many times have i told you to call me mia?"
you smiled sheepishly. "i'm sorry, i can't,"
and truthfully, as much as you tried, it felt way to disrespectful to call her by her name and not mrs. potter.
"yeah," james snickered, "she's got this weird compulsion where she has to be perfect and respectful all the time," james taunted.
"shut up," you laughed, shoving james gently.
"alright, well, ten-fifteen...alright?" she looked at you both warningly.
"yes ma'am," you and james chorused, but as soon as she left, you two burst into a fit of laughter.
even if lights were out by ten-fifteen, you two would still be awake all hours of the night laughing and talking about seemingly nothing.
you let him play his turn, smiling as he made a rookie mistake. you quickly showed him how bad his mistake was.
"y/n!" he groaned.
"face it, potter," you sighed. "i'm just better..."
he rolled his eyes and shoved the pillow in his lap at your face. you, being you, caught it with a laugh and threw it aside. analyzing the board as he went to make his next move.
he'd never admit he let you win just so he could see the smile on your face when you did.
——
march 15th, 1996:
"stop painting her nails and help me find an outfit!" sirius exclaimed. "moony won't wait forever!"
james looked up from your hand as you both turned to look at sirius. though he'd never admit it aloud, james loved painting your nails ever since you forced him to do it the first time because your hands were too shaky.
"red shirt, leather jacket, and..." you squinted before turning to james to let him decide what pants your lovesick friend should wear.
"black jeans," he decided. you nodded in agreement.
"thank you, mr. and mrs. potter," sirius sighed, pulling out the exact clothes you two had picked out. "finally you pay attention to me,"
his nickname for you both made you shift slightly, as it always did. not that either of them noticed.
"don't be dramatic, sirius," you replied, rolling your eyes. "painting nails is tedious work,"
"you're tedious work," sirius grumbled, quickly changing. the boys had no qualms changing in front of you despite the fact that you were a girl, they'd known you as long as they'd known james—given you were a package deal when you got to hogwarts.
"how are you two planning to spend the afternoon?" he asked, making conversation as he finished up his eyeliner.
"napping," you replied. you had pulled the longest study session ever last night, and still had to wake up in time for classes. to say you were tired was an understatement.
james didn't like naps as much as you, but he laid with you until you fell asleep because he was so warm. you practically forced him to.
"cuddle session?" sirius asked, ruffling his hair in style.
"that's the one," james replied, finishing your last nail.
"it never ceases to amaze me how close you two are without being in love," sirius chuckled before slipping on his shoes. "anyway, bye...don't wait up for me and moony," he winked before closing the door behind him.
he wasn't entirely truthful. sirius knew about your long haboured crush in james since your third year of hogwarts. at first, you were convinced it was just teen hormones and it'd wear off.
it did not.
if anything, it got worse ever since then. you couldn't be near the boy without smiling and you certainly spent most of your time with him if not with mary or the other boys you two had befriended. he just understood you, he was your person.
the worst part was that you knew he didn't feel the same. you'd known since your first year about his undying love for lily evans, which had progressed so much more over the years.
you supposed you'd get over it eventually.
you scoffed. "look at him, flaunting what we don't have—remus,"
"i know, the utter torture knowing remus will never be ours," he sighed sarcastically. you laughed,
he lied down, arm behind his head which flexed all the right muscles. meanwhile you blew at your nails to make them dry faster. you marveled at the beautiful pink color, perfectly done by your best friend.
"you can take the girl out of the muggle world, but not the muggle world out of the girl," james teased before grabbing his wand and waving it wordlessly. in an instant, your nails were fully dry.
you scoffed. "please, you love the muggle world,"
he grinned. "yeah, i do," he shrugged.
you lied beside him, curling up into him to wrap your arms around his waist and your legs around his hips. it wasn't always the most comfortable position for him, but he put up with it for you, unbeknownst to you. you lied your head on his shoulder, breathing in his aromatic cologne.
you never understood why you tortured yourself like this. you knew these moments would just make you fall harder for him, but you couldn't help yourself. even if he'd never be your boyfriend, at least you had him in your life.
"alright, see you in two hours," you mumbled, adjusting your head comfortably.
"i'll be here," he sighed in fake annoyance. "waiting..."
"shut up," you muttered sleepily.
a few movements later, he smiled softly as you began to snore quietly. he kissed your head ever so softly, as to not wake you, pushing hair out of your face.
he really did hate naps.
but not the ones with you.
——
september 22nd, 1974:
the five of you sat in the greats hall, piling your plates as everyone chattered during their dinner. you laughed at whatever sirius said, waiting for remus to let go of the spoon for the macaroni bowl.
"pads, wipe your mouth," james scolded, handing the friend in question a cloth. sirius rolled his eyes and grabbed it, wiping his mouth aggressively.
"happy?" the grey-eyed got asked in feign annoyance.
you laughed as james rolled his eyes and nodded.
"y/n, do you want some?" peter asked, showing you a plate of fruit bars with nuts in it.
"do you want her to die?!" james exclaimed, though it was drowned out by the loudness of the great hall.
you, sirius, and remus exchanged looks. james took all of you guys' allergies seriously, but for some reason, with yours he became scandalized. you took a deep breath, sending an apologetic look toward peter.
james scoffed. "does she look like snivellus to you?"
peter blinked at him.
"does she?" james demanded. the four of you didn't know whether he was genuinely being serious.
"no...?" peter replied.
"then why are you trying to poison her?!" he snapped.
peter sighed, remembering your allergy suddenly. "i'm sorry, y/n," he said. "i forgot,"
"it's okay," you replied with a small smile.
james glared at peter.
"what?!" peter exclaimed. "i said sorry! it's not like i shoved it down her throat!"
"shame on you, wormy," he shook his head.
"james, believe it or not," you said. "i'm a big girl, i can just tell peter no when he offers,"
"it's about principle, y/n!" he replied.
"and you call yourself one of her best friends," james scoffed, shaking his head at peter again.
"james, if you don't stop, i'll put normal milk in your cereal, you lactose-intolerant freak," peter threatened.
remus sighed. "one peaceful dinner, it's all i ask," he grumbled. sirius rubbed his arm comfortingly.
you laughed loudly, making the other four turn to you. quickly, the rest of them broke and laughter filled the table. quickly, remus, sirius, and peter resumed their own conversation—leaving you to talk to james.
"thanks for remembering, it's very kind of you," you admitted to him lowly. "even though you're such a drama queen about it," you taunted.
"of course, i actually know you," he whispered back. "not like these posers,"
you laughed, shoving him playfully. "you're such a loser,"
"takes one to know one," he fired back.
you rolled your eyes and joined in the conversation in front of you, grabbing a cookie and breaking it in half. without breaking your conversation, you handed one half to james and began to eat the other.
he smiled at you and ate his half.
of course he remembered everything about you. how could he not? you were going to be in his life for the rest of it. that he was sure of.
——
june 12th, 1975:
you sniffled, wiping your nose on a tissue as you went through your various polaroids. your boyfriend, well ex-boyfriend now, had broken up with you a couple hours ago. as much as you tried not to cry over a boy, especially one that wasn't your best friend, you couldn't help but feel hurt nonetheless.
you liked him. and he just made a bet to date you for five months.
mary, marlene, emmeline, and lily had tried to comfort you but to no avail. you asked them to leave you be and they complied, silently agreeing to get the one person who they all knew could comfort you.
you held back a sob, cutting up the pictures and discarding them in the dorm trash. god, you felt pathetic. he wasn't worth it. but it still hurt.
a knock at the door caught your attention.
"come in," you sniffled, thinking it was one of the girls trying to get to your shared room that you selfishly kicked them out of. you hated crying in front of people.
a tall, lean raven-headed boy entered the room. he held a box of tissues and a buttload of snacks. he set everything down on your desk, eyes scanning you sadly.
"he dated me on a bet, james," you sniffled as your voice wavered slightly. "he broke up with me this morning,"
you met his eyes, seeing how worried he looked, and got shoved your face into your hands—a quiet sob escaping your lips, muffled by your hands.
"i'm so sorry, love," he mumbled, sitting in front of you to pull you into a hug. you hugged him back tightly, crying quietly into his shoulder. you felt terrible for his tear-stained shoulder, but the tears wouldn't stop.
you just felt so pathetic and used. how could you fall for it so easily? but you suppose if there was anyone you could be vulnerable with, it was your best friend in the entire world.
"why didn't he like me?" you mumbled tearfully.
"because he's an idiot," james replied, holding you tightly. "because he doesn't know what a great girl is even if it slapped him in the face,"
you let go. "how could i be so stupid? i mean i should've known! in all my five years at hogwarts, no boy has ever asked me out... i should've trusted my gut," you shook your head disappointedly.
"you're not stupid," james assured you. "he is, don't get it twisted. you liked him, there's nothing wrong with that, he just happened to be a prat,"
you frowned. "i suppose. but i mean i should've known..."
james cupped your face, looking into your eyes. "listen to me, y/n," he said seriously. "you are the most beautiful girl i know, you're smart and kind and funny and understanding...i could go on and on. he lost a great girl and he will pay for it for the rest of his life, do not feel pathetic and upset over some stupid bloke—got me?"
you let a smile grace your face. "you think i'm beautiful?"
he huffed and let go of your face, though you could see his playful expression. "is that really the only thing you got from that?"
you shook your head. "no, i heard you loud and clear," you admitted with a small smile. "thank you, j, you're the ultimate best friend,"
he grinned. "i know, it's a talent,"
you rolled your eyes. without you having to say anything, he grabbed the snacks and began to open them up for you, the both of you beginning to eat from the packages of snacks.
"am i more beautiful than farrah fawcett?" you asked teasingly.
"don't push your luck," he huffed.
you let out a melodic laugh and instantly, a smile spread across james' face. that's all he wanted, was to make you laugh.
the very next week, your ex boyfriend ended up in the hospital wing after a few humiliating yet harmless hexes being cast on him. unfortunately, all four marauders received detention for something they had very obviously done.
james didn't care. he'd go through millions of detentions if it meant protecting you.
——
may 27th, 1976:
a thousand used tissues and a finished vial of cold medicine later, you had only gotten through the first five chapters of your potions book. despite your efforts, you hadn’t made much progress in the years worth of material you were set to cover. exams were in two weeks and you were much more behind than you had realized. you had no time to recover, not when o.w.l’s determined what classes you received next year.
your eyes drooped as you turned the page, leaning your head in your hand tiredly. you weren’t even sure you were retaining anything anymore, just studying so you could say you had done it.
lily and mary had left you some time ago, tired themselves. they had begged you and pleaded for you to join them in your dorm, so you could sleep off the medicine. you were the only one sick—just your luck.
you refused and moreover, begun to ignore them. they didn’t take it personally, they knew how you could get around exam time. they muttered that they’d come back to check on you soon. that had been four hours ago, and you were happy that they seemingly weren’t going to come back any time soon.
a loud clatter across the library made you sit up from your medicine-potion-induced trance. your eyes opened wider, scanning the dark library for any movement. madam pince had left two hours ago, given the library had closed and she had no idea you were back here.
“hello?” you whispered, mentally cursing yourself for the stupid mistake. if there was someone here, like a teacher, you surely had just given yourself away.
thankfully for you, it wasn’t a teacher or staff member. instead, it was your best friend.
“y/n? what’re you doing here? it’s twelve-a.m.!” james whispered loudly, moving the books that had blocked your view effortlessly. he kneeled by you on the chair, your body relaxing as you realized it was him.
“baking a cake,” you replied sarcastically. “what does it look like i’m doing, potter?”
“first of all, you know last names hurt me,” james replied. “secondly, you look like shit,”
he felt your forehead. “and you feel like shit,”
“wow, you sure know how to charm a lady, james,” you replied with a playfully eye roll. “don’t worry, i’m on my way back to the dorms, just twenty more minutes,”
james gave you a deadpan look. “mary and lily told me you said that four hours ago,”
so that’s who revealed your location. the traitors.
“james, i have to study! i can’t just not pass my potions o.w.l’s?” you replied.
james sat on the chair diagonal to you, looking at your very obviously sick form. it had to be some strain of the summer flu, given remus had gotten it just a week prior.
“to quote my mother, you have to sleep—it’s what keeps you beautiful,” he tried persuasively. you were not nothing if not vain.
you scoffed. “who’s gonna cares about beauty if i fail my finals?!”
“your future husband?” james tried.
“i won’t be marrying anyone that vain,” you concluded.
“that should make me feel better,” he replied. “but you working yourself to death does not,”
“okay, you can study for twenty more minutes,” he sighed after a moment of you staring at each other. “i’ll go make you a tea and wait with you to make sure you actually come to bed,”
you rolled your eyes and waved him off, returning to your potions textbook in no time. james quickly ambled out of the library and made his way to the kitchen.
thankfully for him, filch was on leave for a few days, not that anyone knew that. he had walked into a particularly nasty prank by james and sirius, leaving him stuck in the hospital wing for a few days. all the staff elected to not tell students, in hopes it’d scare them into not sneaking out at night.
james quickly made his way back to the kitchen, asked the house elves for a tea, and began making his way back. it was in a tiny coffee to go cup—why the house elves had them, james had no idea, but it certainly made his life easier.
he couldn’t have been gone more than a ten minutes, but as james got back, he quickly noticed the angle of the light from your wand was not the same as it had been when he left. james quietly made his way over and smiled warmly at the sight.
there you were, head lying on the table, hands tucked into your sweatshirt in attempts to be warm. you were sound asleep, the potion having finally caught up to you. granted, james was just glad the amount you had drank hadn’t killed you—as he was sure it wasn’t safe at all to finish a vial in one day.
he walked over and summoned a blanket with the flick of his wand, allowing for his hand to catch it immediately. he placed the tea down on the table. then, he pushed the hair out of your face and draped the cover over you, kissing your head gently as he had felt you do to him so many times.
he wrapped it around you and with one swift motion, he wrapped an arm around your knees and another around your neck—cradling you close to his chest. you woke for a moment, brief and unaware, to wrap your arms around his neck. he tried to fight the nerves that twisted in his stomach at your touch.
and all the way from the library to the common room, james held you tight and carried you all the way back, careful not to wake you. you were burning up, but other than that, you looked comfortable. much more comfortable than before.
the fat lady, without a word, swung open when she saw james and he safely brought you inside—laying you down on the couch. you stirred a bit and looked up at him through half-lidded eyes.
“thanks, j,” you whispered.
“of course,” he grinned, sitting beside you, moving your legs on his lap. “now get some sleep, i’ll wait here with you,”
“you’re a good best friend,” you mumbled through a yawn.
james smiled and kissed his fingers, gently placing them on your head. you smiled happily and fell asleep in no time.
he only wished that one day he’d be more than just your best friend.
——
october 11th, 1977:
you sat in front of james on his bed, finishing up an essay you two had worked on together. the entire day, no—the entire week, he’d been acting strange. james was usually strange, but not this strange. he had been gentler and his face would burn up whenever sirius mentioned his little nickname for both of you.
it was beginning to scare you. what if he was becoming uncomfortable with the jokes? the nicknames? what if he had a girlfriend and he didn’t know how to tell you that your relationship with each other would have to change? how would you even react to that?
you looked up at him, noticing the boy wringing his hands. despite this, you said nothing. maybe you could live in denial just a little longer.
“i have something to tell you,” james spoke suddenly.
you looked up, eying him carefully. “what’s up, j?”
james’ face flushed a light pink as he looked up at you sincerely. he swallowed thickly. for a moment, he stared at you. you both just looked into each others eyes and you were unsure what to do next. he’d never been this serious with you.
“you alrig—“
“i love you,” he blurted. “as more than a best friend,”
you would like to say that what you did next was completely intentional, but it wasn’t. as a matter of fact, you weren’t quite sure where it came from.
THUD!
you covered your mouth, looking in shock as james landed on the ground. he wasn’t terribly hurt, just shocked. you were shocked as well.
“that is…not what i expected,” james muttered, standing up and sitting in front of you again.
“what was that for?” he asked.
“i dunno…” you mumbled. “i panicked, i didn’t know what to say…”
james softened his gaze at you and a smile curled onto his lips. soon enough, you began to smile too. and then you both burst into laughter. after you both sobered up, you smiled at him.
“i love you too, as more than a best friend,” you finally replied. it felt like a weight lifted off your shoulders—you finally confesses your biggest secret to james. “just so you know,”
he smiled. “i’m glad to hear that,”
“wow, what a loser,” you commented playfully. “usually this is the scene where the guy kisses the girl,”
he grinned. “really? sort of like this?”
he pulled you in, your lips touching quickly. if this is what heaven felt like, you understood why everyone wanted to go so bad. you pulled him closer, refusing to break the kiss.
you broke apart finally. “yeah…like that,” you grinned.
“will you…?” james stumbled on his words.
you grinned, knowing him perfectly enough to know exactly what he’s asking. “yes, james, i will be your girlfriend,” you replied happily.
he smiled, pulling you in again.
he’d finally confessed it.
bonus;
“what’re you two doing?” you grinned, leaning against the doorway of your son harry’s room.
he threw down a card, glaring at ginny as she placed down her own card with a smirk.
“we’re playing uno,” ginny replied with a smile. “ron didn’t want to play so harry and i decided to go against each other,”
“how is it a muggle game and she’s beating me?! she’s never even played before!” harry exclaimed.
“you underestimate weasley’s,” ginny grinned. “we’re not as ignorant as you think,”
“well, it’s getting late you two,” you commented, glancing at the clock in harry’s room. “i don’t suppose you two plan on playing until the wee hours,”
“mum! we’re thirteen now!” harry groaned. “we can stay up a little later than nine-thirty, right?”
ginny nodded and shrugged. “i mean i’m twelve, but still…”
you sighed in feign annoyance. “fine, ten-fifteen, and then ginny will go sleep in your sisters room and you and ron will have to go to bed—sound good, you two?”
“but—“ harry began.
you smirked. your son—ever the clone of james potter, your husband. “let me rephrase, ten-fifteen, take it or leave it,”
“we’ll take it!” ginny replied quickly.
“yeah, we will,” harry smiled, glancing at ginny with a little glint in his eyes. you and james knew full well the future of harry and ginny’s relationship, even if no one else did.
“good, ten-fifteen,” you said warningly before making your way downstairs.
james lounged on the couch, clicking through tv channels. you curled up beside him.
“they’re doing the thing,” you commented, knowing james would know exactly what you meant.
“remember when we were that young and in love?” james grinned.
“aren’t we still young and in love?” you teased.
“not that young anymore, but in love? yes,” he replied with a smirk. you rolled your eyes and kissed his cheek, wrapping your arms around his chest and draping your legs across his lap.
“i’m glad it’s ginny, she’s a bold little lady,” your husband grinned. “just the other day, she defended your son against this kid at the little league quidditch try-outs, even punched his nose,”
“i know, harry came home and told me all about it,” you grinned. “all impressed and admiring, even ron saw how in love he looked,”
“well, we potter men love ballsy ladies,” james joked.
you rolled your eyes. “don’t i know it…”
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theurgists · 5 months
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⋆。‧₊°♱༺ THE INEVITABLE PULL ༻♱༉‧₊˚.
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ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: on the night of her twenty-first birthday, ellie find herself in the one place she asked jesse not to bring her. a strip club.
warning(s): 18+ smut, modern!au, stripper!reader, mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, dudes in clubs being jackasses, jesse being a wingman ( thank you bestie ), dry humping ( a little?? ), fingering ( reader!receiving ),oral ( elle!receiving ), a one night stand, essentially. not proof-read!
a/n: yet another one-shot i'm bringing back. i do have a little 90s ellie drabble in my drafts that I'm working on so definitely let me know if you'd like to see that ;)
You know that feeling you get when you walk into a place you don’t want to be in? A feeling so uncomfortable that it makes you involuntarily bounce back and forth from the heels of your feet to the tips of your toes, eyes darting from left to right trying to observe the situation you were faced with. 
Ellie was unfortunate enough to be experiencing it tonight as the blood in her veins thumped into the base of her eardrums, her hands in the small pockets of the denim jeans she wore as her shoulders hunched with uncertainty. The air smelt like immeasurable amounts of liquor and what Jesse described as ‘fun times’. 
He had coaxed her out of her apartment and off of the confines of her couch on the eve of her twenty-first birthday, a smile on his face as he landed a pat with an open palm on the back of her right shoulder which rattled her, a grimace curling onto the skin of her lips. Playing the scenario back in her mind now, it seemed as if he considered her feelings which didn’t end up being the case. Sometimes, Ellie would find herself filled with slight guilt for even having the thought of her friend being faintly ignorant — but it oozed out of him as he weaved his way through the teeming club. She was barely one for small parties, preferring to linger in the corners away from unseen eyes, processing what was laid before her in the form of passing bodies. 
Finding herself experiencing how it felt to be somewhere more open — more suffocated — made her stomach tie in the tightest of knots. 
Blowing a puff of air out of her throat, Ellie felt annoyance creeping up within her as the bone of her shoulder collided with someone else’s.
“Watch where the fuck you’re going.”
Through the tumultuous beat of hip-hop music, those seven gruff words reached the canal of her ears causing the soles of her shoes to squelch on the scuffed polish of the club floor as she turned around. Deep lines formed between her eyebrows as she scowled, her fingers curling into the palm of her hand, teeth gritting together.
“The fuck?”
Ellie didn’t know whether to consider it a blessing or a curse that no matter the situation, her mouth couldn’t just stay closed even with multiple attempted efforts. It worked out for her in less violent ways fifty percent of the time. Whereas, the other fifty percent caused adrenaline to pump in her veins so quickly that her body would shake slightly, growing numb as if to prepare for whatever damage would arise. 
People tended to underestimate how much damage swirled around her balled fists due to her average stature and the fact that she was a girl. She knew better than to let things progress further, not only for the sake of not wanting to deal with it on her birthday but for the poor patron who’d most likely end up losing if he decided to take the unknown risk of a fistfight. Especially with her. 
“You fuckin’ heard me.” The man towered over her, dark eyes riddled with drunkenness and a bubbling fury as she looked up at him through low eyelids, a smirk appearing at the corners of her mouth. 
Through her peripheral vision, she could see the stares of other club-goers as they observed the altercation with interest, curious to see who would throw the first punch. It would’ve been Ellie. Seriously, she was so close to cocking her fist back just to swing it into his aging face but Jesse had a knack for knowing when his friend got into trouble because he appeared next to her before she could blink, fingers grabbing at the back of the plaid button-down she wore, trying to de-escalate the painstakingly icky tension as those who were unaware continued with their night.
“Woah.” He dragged out in an airy laugh, snaking himself in front of Ellie in case things went south. “No problems here, right?” 
Not trusting herself enough to not utter a single word, Ellie turned and let her feet carry her straight to the bar at the far left corner, jaw tight as she found an empty spot to slide herself into in hopes of getting herself a drink as it had just reached one in the morning. If she had the option to restart the first hour of her birthday somewhere else, she could, but beggars can’t be choosers — and Ellie was far from being a beggar. 
Locking her eyes onto her choice of liquor, she let the music creep back in her ears once more as her eyes clouded over, scanning the crevices of her brain for the pros and cons of having a couple of shots throughout the night, or just getting a glass straight-up. 
Clearing his throat, Jessie weaseled his way next to her before grabbing the bartender’s attention, his pearly white teething glistening under the neon lights that shone through the darkness, eyes shamelessly roaming across her body as she bit her lip flirtatiously. 
Ellie couldn’t roll her eyes, itching to have a drink in her grasp to ease the small jolt of nerves that would pinch her every couple of seconds. 
“Can I get angel’s envy on the rocks?” She asked, avoiding looking at the lady behind the bar as she nodded curtly.
 “Sure thing, honey.” Turning to Jesse, her back arched slightly as a means to pop her chest in his face a little more. The only thing that was stopping her from leaning closer was the countertop between them as she spoke lowly. 
“And for you, baby?” She drawled, voice slow. She already had a couple of drinks, which was evident through her shameless attempt at flirting which the dark-haired man seemed to be into for some reason. 
His lips quirked up, arms crossed over each other as he went to rest them on the bartop, eyes boring right into her soul.
“Same thing.” 
Ellie took the opportunity to observe her surroundings even further. Eyes moved from the people sitting in small round booths and velvet chairs to the stage that sat front and center, one of the main reasons why she had been brought here tonight. A pole stood upright under the bright white lights, metal practically sparkling, blinding her as if to make its presence more known to her than it already was. 
In life, there were a lot of firsts and Ellie had gladly experienced them with pride, diving headfirst. However, this was a completely different ball game that filled her with a small enough amount of discomfort that caused her to scratch at the nape of her neck. 
“Y’know, the least you could do is say thank you for having me deal with your shit.” Jesse chuckled jokingly, fingers jutting outward to slide the glass toward her which she took without a second thought. 
Although Ellie could sense the humor in his voice, the bitterness she felt seemed to overpower her brain before she could correctly process her words. “The least? You could’ve been a little more considerate when you decided on where to take me on my birthday.” 
She leaned closer to him, having to raise her voice to be heard through the music. “A fucking strip club. Really?” 
Raising his glass, he just smiled smugly at her which caused her eyes to roll to the back of her head for the second time that night before he clanked it with hers in a toast. “To being twenty-one.” Tilting the chilled cup toward his mouth, he downed his whiskey in one go before shaking his head to rid of the burning in his throat. Ellie followed right after, letting her eyes screwed shut as heat ran into the pit of her stomach.
“God that was fucking awful.” 
All Ellie got in response was Jesse’s arm over her shoulder as he stood on the tips of his toes, neck craning over heads as if he was looking for something in particular. Before she could ask, his eyes lit up, her body moving forcefully as he dragged her away from the bar and in the direction of a booth that was mostly empty beside three other people occupying a small section of space. Jesse’s friends. 
Truthfully, this night seemed to be getting worse as she watched Jesse slide himself in before moving in his seat, the leather squeaking as it rubbed against his clothes. Ellie licked her lips, tasting a hint of the shea butter chapstick she had applied to them earlier in the night, body growing rigid as one of his friends stared at her with wavering uninterest. 
“Who are you again? He slurred, lazily pointing a finger in her direction, swaying in his seat slightly. 
Ellie’s reply was simple and cold. “Ellie.” 
Jesse slapped him on the back, sending his torso to push forward and some of his liquor to fall out of his shot glass and onto the table in front of them. “Seth shut the fuck up.” 
Seth opened his mouth, lips in the shape of an ‘o’ before his face contorted into one of amusement, “Oh” He chuckled.
If Ellie was being honest with herself, she didn’t remember his name either. Jesse’s friends weren’t people she would necessarily surround herself with if she was looking for company. On occasion, she’d stop at Dean’s house ( the name of the only one she bothered to remember, only because he treated her like he would any of his other guy friends ) with him only because she got to smoke for free, and she’d never pass up free weed. 
Moving to sit, Ellie lowered herself before breathing in through her nose, the lighting dimming above her almost instantly as the song that was playing came to a pause before another one followed behind. 
Confusion grew on her features as the sharp clank of heels could be heard from where she was, just a couple of feet away, in the third row of seats right smack in the middle. She didn’t know what to expect. It wasn’t as if she was well-versed in the club universe because she hadn’t been in one before tonight.
She heard Dean hiss behind his teeth before whistling loudly, “Damn.” 
Averting her gaze toward center stage, she could feel her cheeks warm as she stared at you. Your hair fell down your shoulders in loose waves, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth before you smiled warmly, red nails gliding up and down your hips before you swayed them side to side seductively, moving to the rhythm of the music. Hoots and hollers filled the expanse of space, bouncing off the walls and directly into her ears. 
“Fuck, she’s hot.” 
Ellie was thankful for the darkness that enveloped the room as the crimson flush on her cheeks darkened in color even further. She shuffled back into her seat, keeping her gaze locked on your body as you spun around the pole, the string of your black thong hiking up your hip just a little higher, something she swore only she noticed. 
With her gaze boring into your frame, she watched as you swung one leg over the other, spinning on your heels before lifting yourself off the stage using the pole, your grip tightening as your feet moved in place. 
This feeling in between her legs, the ache she got from just seeing you was otherworldly, she felt wrong about it. She didn’t even know you ( as badly as she wanted to now ) to be feeling the way she did. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach fluttered so aggressively that they felt as if they were crawling out her throat as her breath hitched. 
When the money appeared, adorning you as if it was rain falling, she melted into the leather of the booth. Her eyes widened before a cough emitted from her throat, her heart picking up its pace as your eyes darted across the crowd and she swore you were staring at her as you crawled on all fours in front of the stage. 
So, the only natural thing for her to do was stare right back at you, keeping her gaze locked on your low-lidded eyes before letting someone lift the band of your thong to place a wad of cash, their fingers lingering on your bare hip for longer than necessary before you gracefully danced away. 
You were a goddess, clad in her most seductive armor that nobody could lay a finger on. Ellie could tell by the way you carried yourself, head held high and body swinging low as cash surrounded you. As awkward as she felt, she sure hoped she didn’t look the part because your eyes were still on her. 
A small smack to her arm caused her to twist her head in Jesse’s direction, a frown on her face as she tried to stare at him through the darkness. “You seem to be enjoying yourself.” 
His eyebrows raised in amusement, lips pressed together to keep himself from laughing aloud. “It’s okay you know, to stare, that’s why we’re here.” 
Putting the palms of his hands out, he gestured around him as if to prove a point. 
Ellie tutted before she grabbed a loose strand of hair and tucked it behind her ear, grabbing at the new drink that miraculously appeared ( he must’ve grabbed it off of one of the guys ) before gulping the rest of its contents down, lips puckering as her lungs developed a burn that only Hennesey could give her. 
“This is the last time I’m letting you drag me anywhere without telling me first.” She huffed, blowing out a breath that caused her cheeks to ache slightly. She averted her gaze to you again, this time watching as you left the stage, signaling the end of your set as people cheered and whistled. 
“That was something, I’ll tell you that.” She heard Dean say, his hands traveling down to his pants to try and conceal the very noticeable boner that had tented. 
Ellie pulled her lips back in a snarl, teeth out in the open as an uncomfortable expression reached her features, skin near the corners of her eyes creasing as she narrowed them in his direction. Men were fucking gross — and the way he sat there, licking his lips hungrily as if he’s made up his mind to go after you tonight  — only furthered that thought into the front of her mind. 
The leather seat dipped slightly when Jesse took the initiative to scoot himself closer to her, leaning down to yell, “Was I right?”
Ellie glanced at him through low eyes as the scent of weed hit her nose, merely shrugging in response before lifting herself and pulling down the ends of her shirt, the cotton material having ridden up. 
Se suddenly found herself staring at the bar a couple of feet away from her, coincidentally landing her green eyes on the dip of your back, the bands on your thong littered with cash still. You looked fucking amazing. Your hair was now bunched up in your right hand as you fanned your neck with the left one, your crimson-painted lips moving quickly as you spoke to the bartender she felt herself loathing after their earlier interaction. If you could even call it that. 
A high-pitched whistle beside her pulled her out of whatever thoughts consumed the spaces of her mind. It was none other than her friend, moving his head to stare at who she’d been eyeing. Finally, he saw you in the crowd of people squished at the bartop, and then his brown eyes moved toward Ellie’s face. He knew she wasn’t going to approach you willingly, even if the desperation to speak to you was written across her face in big, bold, lettering. So, he decided to be the devil — or the angel — on her shoulder. 
“Go talk to her, make a move.” 
Ellie wanted to laugh. The urge bubbled up in her throat like bile, and she let it go. Giving him the most genuine chuckle she’s given him all night, shaking her head from side to side. “I doubt she’s into girls.” 
For some reason, considering that as an option made her mood dampen slightly. Anyone here could see the confidence that exuded from you, it lingered in your sweet perfume when you’d pass by people and she was pretty sure she was falling victim to it.
Shrugging, Jesse let his lips pull into a frown, urging her further. “You don’t know that.” 
That was true, she thought as she shamelessly stared you down, her sweaty palms at her sides as she tried to inconspicuously wipe them on the denim of her jeans. Relenting, she felt her heart quicken as her feet carried her toward where you were standing under the neon lights of the bar. 
You looked even prettier up close, your unique features burning into the part of her brain where long-term memory was, trying to soak you in before you noticed she was there. 
“Did you enjoy the show?” Ellie was a goner. Your voice was sweet and sultry, low with a hint of fatigue weaved in between them as you kept your eyes down, your nails tapping against the glass in front of you. 
Ellie cleared the blockage in her throat before answering. “Uh yeah, it was nice.” 
Licking your lips, you still kept your head low but she could see you staring at her from the corner of your eyes. “You were staring.” 
So you did notice her looking at you, which meant that you were indeed looking at her as you danced flawlessly on stage. At least she wasn’t going crazy. 
Feeling the heat rise in her cheeks for what was the tenth time, she stuttered, trying to look anywhere, the confidence she once had evaporating as your light laughter reached her ears. “Everyone was staring.” She managed to spit, biting the inside of her cheek. 
“I wasn’t looking at everyone else though…” 
This made her smile, slightly bashful that you had said those words to her. Maybe you were just naturally a flirt, seeking thrills on sweet-talking club-goers only to leave them wanting more once you left. Oddly, she decided to entertain you by twisting her neck in your direction, the tattoo on her arm taking all the attention as your eyes burned into the skin peeking from under her jacket. 
You continued, “You stick out like a sore thumb, but it’s okay. I like seeing new faces.” Sliding your glass in her direction, you watched with curiosity as she picked it up, swirling the contents in the glass, ice cubes clinking against each other before she let the rest of it slide down her throat. 
Ellie wasn’t a big drinker and she was sure she’d feel the consequences of her choice in the morning, but being next to you — talking to you, was worth whatever hangover would greet her in the morning. 
Pushing for a conversation, you asked her a question. “So, did your friends drag you here or something.” 
Unbeknownst to you, that was exactly the case which she confirmed by nodding. A dry laugh came from her mouth, causing her to cringe at just how fake it sounded but you didn’t seem to mind. “Uh, yeah, that’s exactly it.” 
You turned your body toward her fully, lifting at the strap of your lacey bra, your breasts moving upward just an inch but it didn’t go unnoticed by Ellie as her eyes landed on your chest for a fraction of a second before she was looking at your face again. 
‘How’d you know.” 
“You look uncomfortable. This isn’t your thing?” 
With that question in mind, Ellie felt the vibration of the music in the soles of her sneaker-clad feet, so loud that her body hummed along with the music, the smell of weed burning the hairs in her nostrils as giggles bounced into her ears. “Not really, it’s my birthday so my friend brought me.” 
Your eyes lit up, pearly white teeth contrasting against the dark tint of your lipstick. “Happy Birthday to you then,” 
Ellie moved her mouth to reply with a small ‘thank you’ but the bartender appeared in front of the both of you before you asked her for a shot which she gave you quicker than she had taken Ellie’s drink order. She watched as you slid it in her direction like previously, a smirk decorating your lips as she made eye contact with you, putting the rim of the shot glass between her lips and letting it snake down her throat, the sensation of the burn causing a sharp intake of breath. 
Goosebumps littered your exposed skin as you felt a sudden dull ache grow between your legs. The tension was bouncing between you, deflecting off of the invisible barrier that loitered, cracking just a tad before you backed away. “I have to go now, but it was nice talking to you…”
“Ellie.” 
Giving her one last smile, you nodded. “I hope I’ll see you around soon.” 
She waved with a hand, lips pursed as you turned on your heels and disappeared behind a metal door labeled ‘staff only’.
Usually, every girl Ellie’s ever had an interaction with ended up with her itching to move away from the situation she dragged herself into, jaw tight and teeth grinding together. It was different this time, probably because it was you. The fact that she had no clue what your name was, intrigued her beyond the point of no return. She found herself stuck on you despite having a conversation that lasted all but five minutes — which felt like thirty seconds. 
Sighing, she made her way back to Jesse and his extremely drunk friends. Dean and Seth were shoving each other like fucking five-year-olds bickering over something stupid, their faces inches apart that Ellie felt like she was intruding on a private matter. 
Sitting down again, Ellie let herself endure the two hours in silence next to Jesse as the night wasted away, more drinks being spilled, annoyance growing. She didn’t know how long she was glued to that seat when she made her way outside the double doors, breathing in the fresh air that she took for granted, sighing as she ran a hand through her short auburn hair, the rings on her fingers clattering together as she did so.
 At this point, it was just nearly three in the morning. The dim street lights illuminated the empty street, the leaves on tree branches swaying with the wind in the direction it whipped in. An occasional leaf swayed to the ground as she sat on the curb, the skin of her palms peeling from the roughness of the concrete. 
“I’m fucking serious, Willow.” Moving her head in the direction of the voice, her heart skipped a beat as you stood there with your jacket in hand. You have changed into more comfortable clothes. Your thong is now replaced by pink sweatpants, baggy as they hang low on your hips, and a tank top in place of your bra. Glancing down at your shoes, she could see the white Nike socks keeping your feet warm from the cold, a pair of slides on your feet. You were arguing with someone, that much was obvious. 
The girl in front of you towered so high, it was almost threatening but you didn’t falter in your stance. Her eyes narrowed into slits as she spoke with malice. “You don’t think I’m not? You can come here and dance half naked for some fucking cash but can’t text me back.” 
You scoffed, clicking your tongue while taking a small step back. “This is my job, I’m obligated to come here.” You gestured toward the club with a finger, wilding pointing before jabbing the same finger into her chest. “I don’t need to text you. You’re not my girlfriend, remember?” 
Licking her lips, the gears turned in Ellie’s brain as she weighed her options. She could intervene, ask what the problem was, be your knight in shining armor — but she decided against it. Her palms grew sweaty once more as she continued to watch the interaction. 
The girl breathed through her nose, nostrils expanding as she took in a deep breath before balling her fists at her side, something you didn’t seem to notice as you stared into her eyes with what could only be described as hatred. 
“Fine, have it your way then.” She walked away, angrily stepping toward her car a couple of feet away from you, opening the door with such force that it nearly broke off. “Don’t expect me to take you back when you come crawling with those fake tears of yours.”
You rolled your eyes, shoving your jacket closer to your chest as you watched her get in her car, tires squealing loudly as she peeled out of the parking lot, leaving tracks on the pavement.
Turning around, you saw Ellie staring at you but still pressed against the curb as you walked over toward her, embarrassment creeping up on you in the form of warm cheeks and pressure behind your eyes. Tears. 
Rubbing at your nose with the back of your hand, you gave her a tight-lipped smile before bending down to join her. “Did you see everything?”
She could see just how embarrassed you were as you pushed the nails on your finger toward your mouth, biting at them nervously. Nodding, she spoke lowly, “Yeah, was that your ex-girlfriend?”
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you nodded curtly. “Sadly,” 
Not knowing what else to say, she just sat there in silence, enjoying the quietness of the outside world with you next to her. The silence wasn’t awkward — quite the opposite as she no longer felt nervous or out of place as a couple of minutes passed, glances to each other being shared throughout. 
Ellie was growing tired, eyes riddled with a hint of sleep and the extended feeling of desperation urged her to take herself home. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she pressed the side button as the screen lit up, the clock on her home screen reading 3:15 am before she turned it back off again. With a yawn, she lifted herself off the curb, stretching her limbs as some of them cracked at the sensation of no longer being hunched over uncomfortably. 
Turning to look down at you, she saw that you were already staring up at her with doe eyes, lips etched into what seemed like a permanent frown. “Do you have a ride home?” The words left her mouth before she could process them and she wanted to smack herself right after. 
Nodding, you jerked your head toward the black double doors, “My friend’s a bouncer, he usually walks me home since I don’t live far.” You don’t know why you said the last part, internally face-palming at the fact that you gave her a slight hint as to where you lived. 
She didn’t know if it was appropriate to ask if she could walk you home. Even thinking about asking you sent her heart racing wildly inside the expanse of her chest. But, tonight was full of risks and she liked to consider herself a risk-taker — so she bit.
“I can walk you if you want.” She spoke quickly, rushing to explain her thought process. “I’m just saying because it’s like three in the morning and -”
You laughed loudly, slapping a hand over your mouth after it had left you. “I’m sorry, I'm just laughing because it’s kind of cute when you ramble.” You expressed, nodding as you rose to stand next to her causing her to scratch the back of her neck before tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. “But yes, I’d appreciate it if you did.” She promised that if she were able to turn into some form of mush, she would’ve in that very moment that you said her name. 
The walk was nice, to Ellie at least, as you talked to her about your job and the other girls that worked there. She listened with interest although she wasn’t a big gossiper, asking you questions about certain things to let you know that she was listening to every word you said, hanging onto them.  She saw how your steps slowed after walking around four blocks before coming to a complete stop in front of a lone door, the redness of the metal sticking out like a sore thumb in the middle of the street. 
All she did was stand there with her hands in her jeans pockets as you fiddled with the knob, wedging your key inside before pushing it open.
“This is me.” You sighed, stepping inside the dark hallway, turning to face her as you leaned your cheek against the cool edge of your front door, fluttering your eyelashes. “Do you want to like… come in and have a drink? I know it’s almost four in the morning, but I feel bad for taking up your offer of walking me home since it’s your birthday and all.” 
Ellie knew that if she declined your offer, she’d find herself on her bed, wishing she had taken you up on your offer for another drink. Like she said earlier, tonight was all about risks. She’d greedily take this one. 
The nod she gave you sent shivers up your spine, her body moving inside your house as a means to shield herself from the chill night air. The temperature difference made her realize just how buzzed she was as she stood in the darkness of what she assumed was your living room. 
From behind her, she could hear the little ‘plink’ of the light switch as you flicked it on, light flooding the room. 
“You can place your coat here if you want.” 
She turned, raising her eyebrows to see what you were talking about until she saw you hang your jacket on a hook near the door, a hand behind you to take hers from her. She shrugged it off quickly before handing it to you, watching as you stood on your toes to hang hers on the hook above the first one hammered into the wall. 
Moving past her into the kitchen, she had no choice but to follow as you lit the room once more, the small island catching her attention immediately due to how messy it was. 
As if you were reading her thoughts, you spoke with some embarrassment in your voice. “I would’ve cleaned up if I knew I was going to be bringing guests over.” 
She eyed the items around the small area before shaking her head. “No, it’s okay, this allows me to scan for conversation topics.” Was it weird that she said that? Well, you didn’t seem to think so as you laughed heartily from your stomach, hands pulling at the fridge handle, browsing at the limited options of liquor. 
“Uh… do you want a shot of tequila or a glass of Rosè?” She heard your muffled question to which she answered quickly. 
“Tequila.”
“Alright, my kind of girl!” You exclaimed happily, setting the bottle down on the island and grabbing two shot glasses from one of your wooden cabinets. 
Twisting the lid off, you poured the liquor into the small glasses which caused her to stand across from you, drunken eyes watching as you handed her one. She took it before staring into your eyes once again, hungrily this time, as you rubbed your thighs together under her gaze. 
The both of you tilted your head back in unison, downing the shot quickly before you waltzed to where she was standing, eyes never leaving hers as you brought your face closer. 
You didn’t know why you did what you did, and neither did she quite frankly as she stood, stiff and with ragged breaths as you closed the small gap between the two of you. She immediately returned the kiss, her back digging into the edge of the island counter, as you pressed against her, grabbing the shirt she was wearing, tugging it with need. 
With a hand snaked around your back, she moved the other to grab the back of your neck, forcing your teeth to clash against hers as her tongue made its way into the deliciousness of your mouth. You moaned, entwining yours around hers wetly, her warm breath mixing with yours. 
She met you all but four hours ago, and here she was, in your house kissing you as if her life depended on it. 
Her hands moved to your ass, squeezing through the material of your sweatpants as hard as she could when you ground your hips against hers, wanting to dissipate the aching throb between your legs. 
Noticing this, Ellie moved her hand to the front of your sweats, fingers dancing down your naval and onto your folds, opening them slightly to rub at your clit. You whined, pressing your forehead against hers with a hand on the nape of her neck, squeezing slightly. The action caused her to rub at your swelling bud even faster, keeping note of the way your face contorted into one of pleasure, your eyes in the back of your head. 
“You like that, hm?” Seeing you like this, your body pressed against hers leaving little to no space to even breathe made her the wettest she’s ever been. 
You only put your head in the crook of her neck as a response, teeth grazing at the skin below her ear as she shuddered, your slick pooling into her hand when a finger entered you, stretching you oh-so deliciously. 
A sob ripped from your throat, your teeth digging into her neck as you bit to keep yourself from being too loud. Ellie couldn’t help the groan that escaped her when she felt you nipping at the base of her neck, stomach tying into knots at the thought of even just getting to fuck you. 
“Oh, my g-god.” You stuttered, paying extra attention to the finger that was moving in and out of you quickly, grinding yourself onto it lower, with such haste that you just had to scream out. 
“C’mon, baby, I know you can say more than that.” She slurred encouragingly into your ear, the hand on your ass pulling you even further into her as she shoved a second finger in without warning. 
“Feels so fuckin’ good.” You were boarding on tipsy at this point, and not just on alcohol, but the feeling of her fingers as they wormed their way back inside you relentlessly. 
You heard her chuckle, “That’s it, that’s right.” 
Her breathing in your ear, chanting praises, the sensation of white heat building up in your stomach became overwhelming as you clenched around her fingers, releasing all your built-up sexual tension. Or so you thought because when Ellie slowly put her fingers that were previously inside you into her mouth and sucked them dry, you went almost animalistic. 
“Sit on the counter.” You purred, eyelashes fluttering at her, your lids low with arousal and drunkenness. 
Ellie wasn’t one to find herself obeying others, especially in sexual situations,  but for some reason, she found herself doing exactly what you said with a slight tint to her cheeks that wasn’t just from the excessive amount of alcohol she had consumed throughout the night. This hangover was gonna be a bitch.
You loomed over her, arms on either side of her, palms pressed against the counter. “Let me taste you.” 
The pattern of her breathing changed, making her chest rise up and down quickly before she uttered something almost incomprehensible to you. “I’m not the one usually receiving.”
The smile that you gave her was devious as your hands toyed with the button of her jeans, “Please?” You found it pathetic at the way you begged her, but you didn’t care, not one bit as she nodded her head, letting you unclasp the button before you tugged them off along with her black briefs, throwing them somewhere in the kitchen to find later. She felt the cool marble of the countertop against her bottom as she grasped at the edge of the counter with her ringed fingers, looking down at you with so much lust behind her eyes that you could’ve just come for the second time right then and there.
“I’m gonna make you feel good.” You hushed, kissing the inside of her thighs with fervor before swiping your tongue over her cunt, lapping at her juices as they leaked onto your tongue. You sucked harshly at her clit causing her to sob once, hands digging into your hair as she ground her hips into your face further.
 “Mhm,” You moaned into her core, feeling her throb against your mouth, tongue flicking quickly at her clit, her arousal mixed with your spit sending her mind to an entirely different planet as her eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. 
You were staring at her the entire time, your arousal wetting the material of your underwear, making them stick to your folds as you shuffled your hips to move into her more, feeling her shake above you. 
“O - oh my god, fuck.” She whined, lip quivering as her legs shook, an orgasm so intense that she grew numb, letting her spend get sucked onto your tongue before you removed yourself, dabbing at the sides of your mouth with a finger. 
Ellie Williams was completely fucked and love-drunk on you, and she didn’t even fucking know you.
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mxtxfanatic · 5 days
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I find it interesting that in both svsss and mdzs, mxtx writes in what I affectionately refer to as “knock-offs” of at least one of the main pairing. What are knock-offs? Characters that are said to be incredibly similar to a protagonist, but with some slight difference to make a commentary of some kind.
In svsss, Gonyi Xiao and Zhuzhi-lang serve as Luo Binghe knock-offs and are shown to be admired by Shen Qongqiu during the period in time where Shen Qingqiu’s relationship with Luo Binghe is still heavily adversial. The fact that Shen Qingqiu holds affection for characters that look and act like Luo Binghe but are just not him is meant to show how Shen Qingqiu’s problems with Luo Binghe are not anything to do with Luo Binghe but with the novel-assigned roles that he believes they are fated to play out. The fact that he eventually gets with Luo Binghe but never once considers his knock-offs as viable romantic partners is meant to show that he sees Luo Binghe. Luo Binghe is a person to him, not a character archetype or a eye candy for female readers (and characters) or a product of the story. Luo Binghe is a whole individual unique enough to be fallen in love with on his own merit.
In mdzs, Lan Xichen is Lan Wangji’s knock-off. I really feel like this one is obvious because the whole “twin jades” thing (😂) but for the sake of being clear: Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji are said to physically identical but different in personality. Lan Xichen is the smiling “twin,” while Lan Wangji is the stoic and expressionless one. Lan Xichen cares about niceties and making friends, Lan Wangji cares about rules and shirks companionship. However, not only is it easy for Wei Wuxian to tell them apart, he—life of the party anywhere he goes—picks the killjoy twin over his much more outwardly friendly counterpart. Why is this important? 1) It shows us that appearances don’t reveal to us the full character of a person: Lan Xichen, “the nice one,” is the one who supports the corruption of the cultivation world and is implicated in multiple acts of injustice in the name of maintaining the status quo and not breaking etiquette, while Lan Wangji, “the rule follower,” commits several social taboos and breaks many rules of his own clan in order to stand up for what was morally right. 2) Wei Wuxian is not enamored with or fooled by appearances: whatever attraction and interest Wei Wuxian displays (overtly, obnoxiously) about Lan Wangji is completely absent from him towards Lan Xichen. To him, Lan Wangji is Lan Zhan, Lan-er-gege, Hanguang-jun, whereas Lan Xichen, for all intents and purposes, is just Lan Wangji’s brother lmao. There’s nothing about Lan Xichen that stands out to hold Wei Wuxian’s attention the way Lan Wangji does. And when you dive into how both brothers lived their lives throughout the text, it becomes clear why. Twins they may appear, but their moral convictions set them very far apart from each other.
Now to get to the question that sparked this post: are there any knock-off characters for Hia Cheng or Xie Lian in tgcf?
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moonstruckme · 1 year
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Poly!marauders with a reader who has a hard time explaining (or expressing how she feels) thing??? Like, she knows what to say but she stumbles over her words a lot??
You dont gotta write this obviously, have an amazing day!!!!! <3
Thanks for requesting sweetheart! Hope you had an amazing day too :)
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 784 words
You’re feeling a bit cramped. You’ve got your back to the couch’s armrest and your knees are pressed tight to your chest, feet all but tucked under you to avoid touching James’ thigh. Remus lounges casually on his other side, Sirius sprawled with his legs over the opposite armrest and his head in Remus’ lap. They all look perfectly laidback, spread out and limbs overlapping as they chat about the upcoming quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin. Meanwhile, you’re afraid to breathe too deeply lest you take up any more space. 
“They’ve been having a great season,” James says, but Sirius only scoffs.
“Yeah, but they’ll never work up the guts to play as dirty as Slytherin does,” he argues. “There’s no winning against them if you’re not willing to meet them where they are.” 
“We never have, and—here, love, that can’t be comfortable—” James takes you by the ankles, encouraging your legs to lie across his lap. You hold your breath, not daring to move a muscle but allowing him to maneuver you as he likes. “—and as long as I’m captain, we never will. We won against Slytherin fair-in-square this season, why can’t Hufflepuff?” 
“You’re delusional.” Sirius rolls his eyes, but then they catch on you interestedly. “Prongs, I think you’ve stupefied her.” 
James turns back to you, brown eyes warming with concern. “Sorry, lovely, I didn’t even ask before moving you. Are you comfy now?” 
You can feel your face igniting. This thing with them is so new, and you feel always on the brink of doing something that will spoil it. You don’t know what liberties to take, what to say or not say, whereas the boys seem relentlessly self-assured in every respect. You like having your legs spread across James, but part of you feels like you’re not allowed to like it. 
“Oh, yeah, um,” you stammer, “I’m good.” 
James looks unpersuaded. You don’t blame him; you haven’t done a great job of it. “Are you sure?” he asks. “We’re taking up more than our fair share of space, we can move over if you like.” 
You shake your head emphatically. 
Mirth sparks to life in Sirius’ eyes as he recognizes your state; it’s the beginning of his favorite game. “What is it, baby? Cat got your tongue?” 
“Pads,” Remus chastises, though his own countenance holds evidence of mild amusement, “leave her alone.” He turns his attention to you. “Does it make you uncomfortable when one of us touches you like that, dovey? It’s not a problem if it does, we can stop.” 
“No!” you exclaim, half-desperate. “I mean, it’s not not nice, I just didn’t…”
James strokes the skin of your ankle in a way that you’re sure is meant to be reassuring but only unnerves you further. “Didn’t what, sweetheart?” 
“I just—I—well, you know—”
“Not sure we do, sweet thing,” Sirius drawls. 
“I just—I don’t know,” you say, growing frustrated. “I’m not sure what the rules are, or the…what’re they called? The boundaries, or whatever. I’m not making any sense, sorry.” 
“No it’s alright, don’t apologize,” Remus says. “You’re saying that you weren’t sure if you could touch us, right?”
You nod mutely, wondering that the room hasn’t gone up in flames from the heat coming off your face. 
Remus nods in turn. “Right, well that’s understandable. None of us have bothered to check in with you, have we?” You’re unsure whether you’re supposed to answer, but Remus goes on, fixing you with a painfully kind look. “I don’t have any reservations about it, and I don’t think James or Sirius do either. Lads?” 
“None at all,” James agrees, and Sirius sends you a wink. 
“Touch me any way you like, dollface.” 
Remus gives you an exasperated look about that, but there’s a good heaping of fondness in it. Then his expression softens again. “What about you, sweetheart?”
You take a moment to fit the words into your mouth. “I’m good with that.” 
James makes a sound of teasing endearment, tugging you by the legs so you’re nearly in his lap and squeezing your knee affectionately. “Our shy girl. You know you can tell us these things, don’t you?” 
“I know,” you sigh, letting your head come to rest tentatively on his shoulder. “I just…I can’t always—it’s like my mouth won’t cooperate.” 
“Do you get nervous, honey?” Sirius wheedles, pouting when you try to use James’ form to hide from him. James chuckles, obliging you by setting a hand on your face, covering you from Sirius’ view. “Why would that be? Are we so scary?”
“Don’t torture her, Pads.” James strokes your cheekbone consolingly. “If she never talks to us about anything again, I’m blaming you completely.”
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moonlightndaydreams · 5 months
Note
Yo, regular customer here, how ya doin 🤜🏼🤛🏼
So what do you ot8 would be like into you know position wise to do the deed🤭
Also could you write something any of the skz doing the deed in bathtub and wall s*x. I noticed a scarcity of them!😩
Anyways hope both sides of your pillow are cold n fluffy
👋🏼👋🏼👋🏼
Skz’s fave sex positions.
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Changbin: as much as I love thinking about him taking me from behind (cue poppin' from maniac), I honestly think he loves missionary. He want's your legs wrapped around his waist while he stares into your eyes and fucks into you. Slow, deep, rolls of the hips. That's how he fucks you. He makes little whimpers and grunts, and bites into his juicy lower lip because you feel so good around him. He watches you, taking note of all your micro-expressions, ensuring that you are enjoying every second as much as he is. He is so present when he has sex with you, and if he notices your mind is drifting off, he'll bring you back to the moment. Right now you’re the only thing that matters.
Chan: he loves all positions, but lifting you up against the wall with your legs around him is one of his faves. He’s a strong guy, let’s not forget that. He can either slowly fuck you, pulling out almost entirely before pushing back up into you… or, he can hold you under your ass and bounce you on his cock. In fact, sometimes he just likes standing in the middle of the room and bouncing you on his cock. Like a ragdoll.
Minho: Mating press or from behind in front of the mirror. Either way, he loves to watch his cock disappear and reappear out of your dripping pussy. The mating press position allows him to go deep, but he can also use the backs of your thighs to push himself off you enough to look down where you’re connected. When it’s from behind in front of a mirror he gets so caught up in watching himself, he rather likes the way his body looks when he’s body is rolling into you. His mouth hangs loose seeing how robust your sweet little cunt is when he fucks you for hours at a time. He has so much stamina. You’ll be begging him to stop from overstimulation, but he just has so much more to give. He knows no one can give it you as good as him.
Han Jisung: He loves it when you ride him. He’s the type to just let you do all the work. I mean, why wouldn’t he want to just lay there and have you use him for your own pleasure? It feels incredible for him having you squeeze and bounce on his cock, your breasts in his face. The way you pant and run out of breath gets him so hard. But I also think he’d flip you over at any moment and throw your legs over his shoulders and just rail you. He always cums inside you by the way. Always.
Hyunjin: Wall sex in an art gallery, or utilising a piece of furniture or scuplture. He just wants to drape you over things, or slide you up the wall on his cock, and fuck you slowly. He also loves shower sex. He loves spontaneous, sensual encounters. He loves variety. He closes his eyes tight when you flutter around his cock. Sex is an artistic expression for him.
Felix: Bathtub sex. He’s so thoughtful in creating a lovely setting. Candles. Bubbles. And him. He’ll get you to sit in front of him he washes your body, leaning you back to play with your nipples. Next thing you’re hanging over the side of tub while he’s fucking your brains out. Silly girl thinking it was going to sweet sex.
Seungmin: Sitting on him reverse. Just like Jisung likes to let you do all work, so does Seungmin. But I t’s out of meanness (whereas Ji likes to be lazy). He’ll get you to do all the bouncing while he watches your ass jiggle up and down. He might even squeeze a cheek or slap you a little. You don’t mind since he’s not much of a “body roller” and you can fuck yourself on whatever angle feels best… it always make him blow unexpectedly and he loves it.
Jeongin: likes to take you by surprise, by covering your mouth with his hand and pushing you onto your stomach on the couch or bed. He doesn’t want to hear a peep out of you. He’s sick like that. But it’s always consensual. You have a signal if you’re not in the mood. He’ll peel your pants down and squeeze himself into your wet warmth with your legs as close together as possible. Then he’ll just grind against you with his entire body weight on you.
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @chansbabyg @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @xxkissesforchanniexx @enjaken @queen-in-the-shadows @bethanysnow @newhope8 @chuuchuu1224 @vanillacupcakefrosting @3rachasdomesticbanana @fun-fanfics @palindrome969 @wolfennracha @rhonnie23
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pricefieldsuperiority · 5 months
Text
Yearning Allegations - Pt.2
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Part 1 can be found here
Pairing: Paige Bueckers x reader
Genre: Friends to lovers slowburn (Series)
Summary: You've liked Paige for the longest time. Is there any chance she likes you too?
The first thing you do when you get back to your dorm is groan. Why the hell did you say that? Now she's gonna be worried about you, which is the last thing you'd want.
Annoyed with yourself, you kick off your shoes and throw your clothes into the corner before changing into an old oversized shirt you stole off Paige once when you slept over at hers. It's comforting, still smelling vaguely like her, and you curl up in your bed, plush bedcovers over your knees.
Earbuds in, you press play on Taylor Swift's newest album. Your taste in music was different from Paige's, preferring pop and rock, whereas she liked what you affectionately called "fuckboy music." Of course this was just a lighthearted inside joke, you also liked some of her music, like PartyNextDoor or The Weeknd.
You're halfway through the song 'Down Bad' when you hear a light knock at your door and a soft voice.
"Hey y/n? You good? Open up"
You open up the door to see Paige standing there with an unreadable expression, and then she just walks right in and drops onto your bed.
"Yeah, I'm all good" You say, hoping you sound reassuring. Can she tell you don't actually have a headache?
Paige doesn't say anything. She just seems to be studying you closely, and you nervously ramble on.
"You really didn't have to leave the party, sorry if I freaked you out or something"
You've said it all in a rush, and Paige just smiles a bit as she reaches out and tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear. You want to speak up and tease her to ease the tension until you look at her face.
Paige's expression is gentle, and you notice just how dilated her pupils are in the dim light of your room. Her irises are small, nothing but a vivid blue ring, and you smile at the sight. Her eyes are just so pretty, they've always reminded you of forget me nots, or a clear sky, and you're so busy pondering their exact shade match that you realize you forgot to speak.
"What?" Paige says, suddenly self-conscious.
You blink a few times.
"Nothing"
You turn away, grabbing your glass of water off the nightstand.
Paige is looking at you, head slightly cocked, brows knit quizzically. Your mouth feels dry despite the water, and you want her to stop looking at you like she's trying to figure you out.
"I swear I'm actually good, deadass. My head just really hurts. Probably chugged too many shots during that drinking game earlier. " You put down your cup and dramatically flop onto the bed, closing your eyes and then peeking one open to check if your explanation worked.
Paige finally relaxes and smirks at you,
"Pfft y/n you're such a light weight. I just wanted to make sure you were okay."
You scoff and reply with a grumbled whatever I'm fine, pressing a hand to your head dramatically, and Paige props herself up against the wall, holding one arm out for you.
"Alright, alright, come here."
You smile at her, cuddling up to her side. Her perfume smells so good. It's a subtle vanilla. You settle on her chest as she holds you.
"Also- are you wearing my shirt?" Paige says, rather amused.
"Yeah? Why, do you want it back? I’ll give it to you later" You retort, with half a mind to take it off and playfully throw it at her. This is how it was between you two, at least when you weren't acting like an idiot.
"Nono it's fine, just thought it was... interesting"
Paige pulls you back in, hiding her grin with her hand.
You're fighting off sleep, but you still scoff in response, and she just strokes your hair gently as you drift off.
---
The next week, Paige is over at your dorm, playing Fortnite on call with KK and Ice as you play League of Legends.
"Ughhhhh!!"
Paige groans with frustration, putting down her controller as she loses another match. KK and Ice are bickering with each other over call, and you just smile at the familiar sounds.
You're busy fighting hard in League. Your team is technically losing, but you think you might be able to carry if you score a few more kills at the right time. You don't look up when Paige sits down next to you, headset and game abandoned, head resting over your shoulder to watch you play.
"Another loss, huh?" You say, grinning while you score another kill.
You don't need to turn around to see Paige's eyeroll.
"Yeah yeah, whatever. I just lost cause I was trolling too hard"
Paige is a bit of a sore loser (and dramatic) so you can't resist the urge to poke a little fun at her.
"That's what you get for being a Fortnite player, cringe as hell man”
Paige throws her hands up as she retorts back,
"Dude you're literally playing fuckin League of Legends right now, you can't talk"
You finally look away for a second to grin mischievously at her, one eyebrow cocked.
"Well, at least I'm good at League-"
Not more than 2 seconds pass before Paige sticks her whole hand in front of your screen during a team fight, causing your character to die. You end up losing the game, considering the enemy team was already way ahead.
"What the hell, Paige!"
You whine, and she just grins evily in response.
"HA, what were you saying about winning??-"
You don't allow her to finish that sentence because you shove her over, standing up from the chair and knocking her onto your bed.
"Hey!"
Paige shouts as you start tickling her sides, absolutely going in. You've got a knee on her leg to make sure she doesn't wiggle away from you.
"Yeah, so who's losing now-" You laugh, her cussing at you, trying to pull your hands away.
After a few minutes, Paige pushes you over, and now it's a full-blown battle. Your hands scramble to find her weak spots before she can find yours, and you note how her loose t shirt has risen up, a bit of her stomach out as she kneels over. You seize the opportunity and tickle just under the hem of her shirt, fingers hitting bare skin.
Paige's face blushes a deep pink as she feels your hands go up her shirt, and she grabs one of your wrists, pinning it to the bed.
"Paige!" You can't get your wrist free from underneath her, she's stupidly strong. You can't even move away because she's sitting on you now, using her free hand to tickle your neck and side mercilessly.
"I think you're the one losing!" Paige says triumphantly, enjoying the sight of you squealing.
You sneak your other hand unpinned hand into her waist, tickling her side, and she curses, grabbing that hand and pinning it too.
Breathing heavy, you're both flush against each other, her body leaning over yours, and for a second, you swear you see her eyes flicker down to your lips.
You stop moving entirely, admiring her from your position beneath her, trying to mentally engrave the way the light highlighted the honey streaks in her hair into your memory. Your eyes dart down once to her slightly parted lips before glancing up to her eyes, the expression in them unreadable.
"I- I won!" Paige gets off you in a hurry, moving away quickly to smooth her shirt down in your bedroom mirror.
"Yeah yeah whatever" You say back, hoping she didn't hear the shake in your voice. You press the back of your hands to your cheeks. They're warm.
Paige doesn't stay long after that, saying she needs to get some homework done, and you just sit alone in your bedroom after she's left, playing back the moments to yourself.
What the hell was that?
---
Authors Note: Thank you guys so much for the love on the first chapter <3. Paige and y/n gamer losers, this is true.
Trilogy: Part 3: here
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mindfulstudyquest · 6 months
Text
“ dopamine detox ,, and why you should delete all your social media right now
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"just five more minutes" and then you end up scrolling on instagram or tiktok for hours. i know that feeling. even if you know rationally that focusing on the really important things ( such as studying, working, learning from books or whatever ) is much healthier for you and your future, you can't help it.
you know that start studying for the exam you have next week will benefit you much more in the long run, but you still prefer watching tiktoks and scrolling on instagram. you could say that is pretty obvious: one activity is easy, and doesn't require much effort, whereas the other one is difficult and implies that you are focused.
but it's actually like this? so then why some people manage to be consistent in studying, or working, or exercising? they simply just have more motivation than you? and how can you start having the same motivation as them?
to answer this question, we have to take a look to a very important molecule produced by our brain: dopamine.
dopamine is often considered a pleasure molecule, but it's a false belief. dopamine is actually the molecule that makes us desire things, and it's that desire that gives us the motivation to complete every kind of task. for example, your brain doesn't release dopamine while you're eating a cheesburger, it releases it while you're going to mcdonald's to buy it, because you anticipate that the food will make you feel good, even if it actually makes you feel worse.
to your brain, it doesn't matter if the high-dopamine-activity is damaging to you.
your brain organizes priorities based off how much dopamine is expecting to get:
if an activity releases too little dopamine, you won't have the motivation to accomplish it.
if an activity releases a lot of dopamine you'll be motivated to do it, and repeat it over and over
so, which activities releases dopamine? basically, any activity where you can get an immediate potential reward releases an high amount of dopamine. but if you know that there's not an immediate reward invoved ( such as in studying, where the reward is in the long run ) your brain will not expect to release much of it and you'll be less motivated to do that task.
nearly everything releases some amount of dopamine, even drinking water when you're thirsty, but the highest amount of it is released when you're getting a reward randomly, for example while playing on a slot machine. even if you loose money, you eventually expect to get a bigger reward.
therefore it is not so surprising that the most additive social networks ( tiktok, instagram, pinterest ) are designed as slot machines. you don't know what the next post or video will be, but you expect something great, so your brain releases a large amount of dopamine.
in today's society our brains are overloaded with stimuli that induce an unnatural production of dopamine ( scrolling on social media, playing video games, watching internet pornograhy, etc. ).
it's frightening that people don't know how harmful this lifestyle is: our bodies have a biological sistem called homeostasis, which means that our bodies keep the internal physical and chemical conditions at a balanced level, whenever an imbalance occurs, our bodies adapt to it, for example, when it's very hot our body temperature rises and we start sweating to cool down.
but homeostasis manifests through tolerance too. for example, someone who hardly ever drinks alchool will be tipsy after one beer, on the other hand, someone who drinks alchool on a regular basis will need two, three, four beers in order to get drunk, because their body has developed a tolerance to it. it's not much different with dopamine.
so if you get used to large amounts of dopamine, you won't be able to do the things that you did before, because they don't produce as much dopamine and it's more difficult to motivate yourself to do them. once your dopamine tolerance gets too high, you are no longer able to enjoy low dopamine activities.
as if you were a drug addict, there's only one way to get out of it: you have to perform a dopamine detox. you have to avoid all high dopamine activities in order to allow your body to adjust to a normal level of dopamine production and start finding motivation again in the things that improve your personal growth.
it's not easy, you will be nervous and frustrated, maybe you won't make it through a full day without social media, but day by day it will get better and better, and eventually you'll be able to appreciate small things again.
imagine that you're eating your favorite food - for example, chocolate cake - every single day. after a while, chocolate cake doesn't taste good as before, even if it's literally the same cake. on the other hand, if you eat it once a month, it will taste great, because it's not something you've gotten used to.
this is exactly what dopamine detox does. be safe guys, and start recovering now.
[ source: https://youtu.be/9QiE-M1LrZk ]
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strwberri-milk · 2 months
Note
HELLLO!!! ☺️✨
Can I ask for a scenario where Diluc, Gorou, Tighnari, and Wanderer encounter a nekomata reader who definitely left a lasting first impression on them by messing with them in their car form?
I think it would be both adorable and funny! Especially thinking of possible annoyance turning in a crush! 😊
I hope you’re doing well and have an amazing day/afternoon/night!
I didnt feel like doing the crush part :( just wanted them to fuck around w some cats that are a little Too human also i made wanderer. kinda more lh ig bc he thot it was a cat and i see him being p chill around them lol
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Diluc seems like a cat guy. A new one had begun to wander around the grounds of Dawn Winery and seemed very intrigued by him. He had no issues and enjoyed playing with the cat, letting it keep him company.
The cat developed a habit of trying to steal some of his grapes. Diluc has no worries about it because it doesn't seem like it's trying to eat them but it is a little annoying to have to chase this little kitty around the grounds until he gets his basket back.
He swears it's laughing at him but he knows that makes no sense because of the whole "it's a cat thing" but one day when he sees someone who suspiciously looks similar to the cat he's become friends with grinning at him he starts to put the pieces together.
Gorou/Tighnari was become more wary of a cat on the grounds of the camp. It seemed to enjoy misplacing everybody's things and seemed to hang back to watch people's reactions to things going missing.
He tries to shoo it off, not actually angry at it but definitely a little annoyed with how often it moves things around. He doesn't mind it lazing about though so if he sees it just laying around then he might be inclined to give it a few pets.
If you ever decided to turn into a human form he'd recognise you immediately by your scent. Gorou might decide to "confront" you directly about how you were moving things around whereas Tighnari would be more relaxed about it when asking you to not move too many things.
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Wanderer doesn't mind playing with the cat either. Similarly to Diluc he easily lets it just follow him around and do whatever it wants. It's a little hard to mess with him outside of grabbing his hat or sitting inside of his hat but if he doesn't want you to mess with it then he'll simply just...float away.
He likes messing with you sometimes too, watching as you try to bat at his clothes but failing miserably because of the whole he can float away from you thing.
You turn into your human form in frustration, hoping the extra height would make it easier for you to grab at him. Unfortunately for you he adapts very quickly and darts out of your grasp, a little surprised that the cat he just met is now a person.
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Text
Sherlock & Co Headcanons
This list got SO LONG, SO QUICKLY, but here y'all are. Nobody asked, but I sure as hell will deliver.
Sherlock comes into John's room at night sometimes when he can't sleep. John lets him snuggle up in bed and wraps his arms around him like a koala, and - as long as John's breathing is acceptable - Sherlock falls swiftly asleep to the rise and fall of his chest. After a few times, Sherlock observes a notable decrease in John's nightmares and starts joining him in bed more often, even when he's not tired.
Mariana is one of those rare people who Microsoft Excel gets along with. She has magic powers for sure.
YOU GET A QPR, YOU GET A QPR, EVERYBODY GETS A QPR
On the topic of google docs in the latest episode, Sherlock's gmail is a random string of numbers like a default wifi password because "[email protected]" was taken and that was obviously the next possible option. Mariana's job is infinitely harder because of this.
They have movie nights.
John tried once to get the others into football. Neither of them saw the appeal of it but they watched a game with him anyway out of some strange obligation and a hefty amount of coercion. Also there was popcorn. The joy John radiated when Swindon Town scored a goal was absolutely worth it all.
Carol Watson ships it.
CANE USER JOHN CANE USER JOHN CANE USER JOHN
John hates using his cane, like genuinely loathes it. He's convinced he'll get looks for it or seem like he's faking. And what would Mariana and Sherlock think about him as a colleague?? One morning, though, after a particularly physically taxing case, he woke to an awful flare up. When he reluctantly swiped the cane from the corner where it had been gathering dust so far and made his way into the kitchen for breakfast, Mariana and Sherlock didn't even bat an eye - Mariana did ask if he'd like to sit down while she made him toast, which he gratefully accepted. Archie did try to gnaw on it, though. He uses the cane a bit more often, now.
John and Mariana learned BSL for Sherlock's bad days. They have intricate and heated discussions from across the room entirely in sign language when others are around and nobody can understand them. It's hilarious to watch - well, hilarious from their perspective, at least.
They fall asleep on the couch an inordinate number of times.
One time, Sherlock made John and Mariana breakfast. The two of them spent a very long time trying to figure out whether he was high, delusional, or both.
Clients are generally confused by the whole trio's relationship dynamic. Slay. That's exactly what they're going for.
Honestly I'm 100% vibing with the poly hcs going around. Consider: poly qpr???
Short king John. You agree. Reblog.
Mariana consistently steps out of the flat looking drop down gorgeous because she's awesome like that, whereas Sherlock looks like he's just been dragged out of bed (he probably has been) and John exclaims in pleasant amusement whenever he finds bits of his breakfast in his stubble. They make the perfect trio.
Sherlock is tall enough to rest his chin on top of John's head. He does it like some sort of clingy cat whenever he's tired and John's back is turned. It's adorable. He's recently been experimenting with slinking his arms around John's waist as he does so, yielding gentle chuckles that he feels rather than hears. The results have been a smashing success.
Mariana was school captain.
John drinks juice straight from the carton like a heathen (which is fine because Sherlock hates the stuff - the pulp gets stuck in his teeth - and Mariana has her own food downstairs).
Sherlock really does play the violin at horrific hours. The neighbors hate him, but it actually puts John to sleep when he's not playing the violent, jerky melodies of a tricky case.
Sherlock and Victor Trevor. I'm surprised this isn't already canon. They happened. Whatever "happened" means is irrelevant - they happened.
Sherlock really likes rainbow sour straps.
MORE TO COME PROBABLY
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adventuringblind · 9 months
Text
Caught in a Lie
Maxiel x Reader
Genre: Smut
Summary: The reader gets caught in Max's shenanigans and decides to take the blame. Daniel isn't happy she lied for Max, third time WDC or not.
Warnings: BDSM, dom/sub, sub reader, switch Max, dom Daniel, spanking, unprotected PinV, Overstimulation, mild denial if you squint, Max being a menace
Notes: I have a website now! It would mean a lot if Y'all checked it out. I'm still working on it but it's a fun creative project. It's still in the works, so if you have suggestions, I will gladly take them.
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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It really wasn't her fault. Max had been the conspirator. She was just the bait. Unknowingly, mind you. The bastard had done this on purpose!
Winning a third title had inflated his ego far too much. They couldn't celebrate properly in Qatar. Alcohol sure, sex had to wait. Not because any of them wanted to, Daniel had made it a point that sex, especially the kind they do, needs to come after races. Thursdays and Fridays can be soft things. Saturdays are an absolute no. Then Sunday comes around, and they are trying to get back to wherever they are staying as fast as possible.
Now, back at home in Monaco, nothing to disturb their peace. They decide to ruin it all by going out. It's one of her least favorite activities. Being in bed with the cat has her name on it. But Max wants to celebrate, and Daniel is social, so she drags herself out of bed.
She should've known something was amiss when Max said he got something for her to wear out. She should've known it was going to end this way when Max whistled at her and laughed, whereas Daniel's eyes had darkened. The familiar look he gets when he wants to absolutely take her apart and build her up piece by euphoric piece.
She'd caught Max's arm on the way out. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"Felt like a show tonight," he shrugs, then winks at her.
The black dress barely covers her ass. It's lacy all over and sheer aside from the important places. She wears stuff like this often since it's something she likes. It doesn't make sense why this would be the thing to drive him insane.
Dancing had been fun. Their other Monaco friends had come out with them to celebrate. Daniel's eyes had burned into her every time she moved. Much to her surprise, he wasn't the only one.
Carlos Sainz is staring at her from the corner. He looks like he's trying desperately not to but failing miserably. He turns away every time she catches him, still exuding confidence.
It's not well known that she's dating Max and Daniel. They've been friends for a long time. Friendship turned into a situationship, which then made them confess. They look like they always do to the outside world. To touchy to simply be platonic but no real announcement that any of the three are taken.
Carlos was staring, Daniel was glaring, Max was smirking, and she was the center of it all. Embarrassment hit her like a train when she realized she'd been played. Max was watching Carlos stare at her and snickering about it.
Feeling insecure, she went to get some air. The joy of feeling nice in a dress Max had picked out now ruined from knowing why he did it. He was playing a game. He could've at least asked first.
Daniel and Max find her outside slumped against the wall. She can still hear Max laughing about something and it's pissing her off.
"Stop laughing at me!" She throws her arms up in defeat and turns her back to them. "I didn't ask to be ogled at by Carlos, Max."
"Then why did you pick that specific dress?" Daniel spins her around and pins her to the wall. A shiver runs up her spine as his breath sticks to her ear. "The exact one Carlos had mentioned wanting to see on a pretty thing like you."
She doesn't know whether to blush or cower. She ends up settling for both at the same time. She debates her options. Either she tells the truth and saves herself, or she takes whatever punishment is coming her way.
Once. She will do this one time for Max since he just won his title.
"I picked it out because I thought it looked nice and you would like it. I swear I didn't know Carlos liked this dress and was going to be here tonight." She's pleading desperately with her voice. Maybe she'll get lucky.
Max has gone oddly silent. She tries not to even look at him, let Daniel figure out she's taking the blame for the Dutch.
Daniel is still staring her down. The silence hanging thick between them until he decides to break it. "Anything to add, Maxy?"
Noticing Daniel's mood, he doesn't answer. A smart move by him. Daniel just hums and grabs her wrist to lead the charge to the car.
None of them speak during the short ride home. She hates every second of it. Daniel is probably mulling over everything he wants to do to her. She feels like a child waiting for their parent to start a lecture.
Daniel waits for them to get their shoes off before turning to face them in the entryway of the apartment. "Where'd you buy the dress from?"
And he'd seen right through it. "I don't remember."
"You don't remember, or you weren't told?"
She winces when his tone goes soft. The one that makes her drop to her knees for him. Well, any tone from Daniel can have that effect on her. This one is just the one that makes her all fuzzy in the head. “I don’t remember,” she whispers.
Daniel sighs heavily. “Alright, if you’re not going to tell me the truth then I guess I’ll have to spank it out of you.” She nearly falls over, but manages to catch herself. “Bedroom, clothes off and on your knees.”
She scrambles to comply. The drop is imminent at this point. She just hopes Max enjoys the show because this will not be happening again. At least, she hopes.
The clothes come off and are folded neatly in a pile. She feels cold, exposed, and bit insecure, and then yet the floaty feeling is threatening to spill over. Her knees digging into the carpet don’t help that.
Max comes into the room silently. Daniel must have said something to him because he kneels next to her. Not a rare occurrence, but is mildly unusual.
“Max.” The stern tone has Max grumbling, but he gets back up off the floor, strips, then kneels again.
Daniel beckons her over to him. Her face is flushed red with embarrassment as she stands between his still covered legs. “You have the choice to tell the truth or not. I’m not mad at you, but I’m sad you felt like you needed to lie about what happened tonight. So, I’m going to keep spanking you until you tell the truth.”
“Yes sir.” It comes out so easily; a second nature now. She lays across his lap, trying to hold back the already threatening tears.
“What are your colors, baby girl?”
“Green is good, yellow is slow down and talk, red is stop.”
“Good, what’s your color?”
“Green.”
She’s probably too far gone already to really say no at this point. She just needs his hands on her in any kind of way.
The first hit shocks her. It’s not the hardest he’s can go by any means, but it still stings. “I’m gonna keep going until I get the truth.” She remains silent and another hit lands to the other side.
The next three have no rhythm and are more towards the tops of her thighs. She whimpers a bit but doesn’t give in. This is for Max. He wanted a show, he won the title, and she’s willing to, unfortunately, provide.
Daniel tugs her hair back and forces her eyes to look at his face. Four more hits and she’s hissing. Each one is harder than the last.
She starts getting hazy around number twenty-five. She's taken more, but the fact that Daniel keeps sweetly telling her she can stop this by telling the truth makes it worse. Like every hit is sending further to the breaking point. Not the good one, mind you, the one where she cries and tells him the whole story.
"Just tell the truth, baby." He lands another five hits in rapid succession. Each one burning more than the last. The tears have started free falling and are making Daniel's leg wet and salty.
"Color baby?"
"Green," She manages to sniffle out. Voice high and cracking. Why is she getting punished again? Oh, right, for Max. It should really be him up here.
The overwhelming urge to do as Daniel says hits somewhere around hit forty. The breaking point has reared its ugly head. She starts bawling her eyes out as the last hit is the hardest she's received thus far. "Yellow!"
Daniel halts any movement. "Did that last one hit too hard?" The softness in his voice only brings more tears.
"I'm sorry!" She drops all her body weight over his legs. "Max got the dress. He said he picked it out for me. I didn't know anything about Carlos. Then, right before he left, I asked him what was going on, and he said he wanted a show. I figured he did just win his title, and I didn't want him to get in trouble, so I lied."
"Oh, baby girl." Daniel helps her up and lays back so she can plaster herself on his chest. "I knew what was going on, but I wanted you to tell the truth. I'm not mad at you, okay?" He runs soothing fingers along her spine. It only makes the tears come harder. "That must've been hard! I'm so proud of you for telling me the truth. I know you wanted to do it for Max, but sometimes Maxy needs to learn his own lesson."
Daniel slides out from underneath her and grabs something from the bedside table. "I'm gonna take care of you now, okay? You did so well. I'm not upset. I just needed to hear the truth." She doesn't hold back the tears as Daniel works on getting her cleaned up. "So good for me," He coos to help her calm down.
She's lost all sense of time. She has no idea of how long she's been over Daniel's or how long he's been cleaning her up for.
She's still splayed out on the bed facing, now facing Max and his solemn expression.
"Here's what we're going to do. Max wanted a show, so that's what he's gonna get since we are celebrating his win." He turns towards Max. The Dutch's knees can't be feeling good at all. Daniel leans down and forces his head upwards. A few seconds at the Australian, then holding on her.
Daniel drags over a chair and rips Max up from the floor. "You are going to sit here and watch. You will not move, you will not touch, you will not make a sounds. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good, color?"
Max looks oddly and achingly hard from her position. It makes her wonder if this is actually what he wanted or if he's just slipping further. It takes more to put max down, but Daniel is good at getting him there if the occasion calls for it.
"Green."
Daniel, much to her relief, finally gets his clothes off. He leaves on his boxers for the moment, though the outline of his hard on is obvious. It has been since they got in the car to come home. “Baby girl, do you want my fingers or my tongue tonight?”
“Tongue please.” Pleasurable shivers run down her spine. Sometimes, she’s convinced that Daniel was molded by Greek gods and sent to live among the humans solely because his tongue can work miracles.
Her head hangs off the bed giving her an upside-down view of Max. His skin has flushed even more since the last time she saw him.
She doesn't get much time to think about it. Daniel's tongue presses against her and she loses herself. He knows her body like it's his favorite book to read, movie to watch, and song to hear.
Her fingers slip easily into his black curls. His hands are on her waist, absolutely buried in her. She's going to feel the bruises soon, but it only adds the pleasure of it.
Her free hand flies to cover her mouth out of habit. She makes it half-way before Daniel snatches her wrist and pins it to her side so he can grip both her hip and her hand.
The strings of moans and profanities leaving her are not even close to the way she can hear Max whining behind her. High pitched and desperate.
Daniel is lapping at her like she's producing healing waters and he'll die without it. Nose bumping against her just right. The grip on her body only getting strong as she writhes around in ecstasy.
"Sir please - need to - please-" It comes out strangled in panted breaths and heavy moans.
He doesn't stop. Never does to tell them yes. Daniel taps her hip with his index finger three times. She jumps over the edge without any kind of hesitation. Plunging herself in the familiar feeling of warmth overwhelming amounts of dopamine and serotonin.
Her back arches. Daniel holds her in place as her body contorts in every direction in an attempt to push him away. He is unmoving wall. A force she can't do anything but submit her body to.
Daniel leaves her alone for a mere minute. Only to drag Max over, fingers clutched around the back of his neck. He slams Max onto the bed and manhandles him until he's right where Daniel wants him.
He then moves to flip her. In between them and still sopping. "Think you can keep Max in your mouth?"
Of course she can, she's done it enough times. The consent thing still makes her melt either way. "Yes, sir."
"Good, I think we've tortured Max enough. We are still celebrating his win, after all." There is a hint of mischief behind Daniel's eyes that doesn't go unnoticed.
Daniel, mouth still wet with her, kisses Max in the sloppiest manner she's ever seen.
She stares in awe for all of ten seconds. Her ogling is cut short by Daniel gripping her hair and shoving Max's length down her throat. She gags at the suddenness but recovers quickly and gets to work.
She can't see what Daniel is doing anymore. Their positioning is not the most convenient for watching. She can hear it though, and It's driving her insane. Max's body is quivering and it's an effort to stay where she is and not bite down every time he jerks in a different direction.
It takes less time than normal for him to spill down her throat. Daniel is quick to rip her off and get her over Max. Her ass still stings from earlier, but she could care less as Daniel plays puppet master and guides Max into her.
It's a stretch, Max certainly isn't small, but she's well adjusted.
She loses her head again when Daniel sets her pace. Max is wrecked from the lack of stimulation into a constant stream of it. Daniel rips off his boxers and slams into Max's mouth. "Bet you wish you hadn't done all that snickering, huh?" Max is so far down that his eyes are rolling at Daniels tone. The gentle one that is condescending enough to make anyone whimper.
Daniel keeps talking, she's registering his voice, but has no idea what he's saying anymore. She can't even hear past her own moans. She can't feel anything besides the hands on her body and the overwhelming number of endorphins flooding her mind.
Kissing. Daniel is kissing her through another jump off an even larger cliff.
Flipped over again. This time Daniel is slamming into at an unholy pace. Maybe Daniel is a fallen angel. To good with his body to stay in heaven, so he brought heaven to the humans.
Fingers. Max's fingers are everywhere. He shoves them down her throat and coos as she mans around them. Rough calloused hands made for drowning her in whatever this cacophony of feelings is.
Her favorite song on replay. Over and over and over again. Never getting old.
She comes back to herself at some point. Nobody has clothes on still. Daniel and Max are gently coaxing her muscles to still.
"Hey baby, you passed out on us." Max's voice is still fuzzy. She groans in response. Every inch of her is in some state of pain, pleasure, or both.
"We're gonna try a bath, okay? I want to help the bruises as much as possible." She nods against Daniel's chest, agreeing that would be a brilliant idea.
"Before we do that though, I want so apologize." Max sounds timid and unsure of himself. His hands wring together in anxiety. "I shouldn't have set that up. It made you both uncomfortable and I should've just asked."
Daniel pulls Max back on top of their cuddle pile. "I would've happily made this happen and I will happily do it again."
That same mischievous glint comes back to Daniel despite the exhaustion. They end up laughing deliriously all the through their aftercare routine.
Yeah, she'd happily do this again too.
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hughesyodaddy43 · 5 months
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Just maybe ⎸ N.H
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Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(
Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.
From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.
Him.
The captain of the New Jersey devils.
Him. 
The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you. 
Him and his cute accent. 
Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.
Him. Nico Hischier.
This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .
After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.
Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.
Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back? 
Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?
Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?
Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.
Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men. 
However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.
Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.
You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA. 
You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day. 
You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency. 
You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.
“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.
“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it. 
“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.
His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own. 
“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red. 
Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.
You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot. 
“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.
“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.
Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump. 
“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing 
“Hello?” 
“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.
You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.
Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.
You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats. 
“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face. 
“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers  in your lap. 
“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.
Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she  chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.
If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico 
Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)
“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me”  she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.
“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread. 
“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.
“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink. 
“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.
‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?
surely  just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.
X
X
Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils. 
Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.
Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.
X
You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.
He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly. 
“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.
“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask 
“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady. 
A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you. 
Fuck it. 
You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. 
You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away. 
“I like you.” you confess. 
Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.
“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek. 
Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.
You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.
Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?
Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.
Maybe.
Just maybe…
He does love you back.
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xoxo-sarah · 2 months
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So Highschool
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Request by the lovely @honoraryfairy : hello darling i love your blog! i was wondering if you could write a scenario for robin and reader inspired by so high school by taylor swift (but lesbian of course <3) i was thinking maybe a summer sleepover at steve’s? but whatever wonderful thing you come up with will be perfect i’m sure 💞💋much love!!!
↝a/n: thank you for requesting, love! You're so sweet.🩷 Hope you enjoy.
↝pairing: Robin Buckley x cheerleader!fem!reader
↝warning: fluff, kissing, I don't know a thing about cheerleading<3, not proofread, rushed
|| Disclaimer: I do not own Robin Buckley, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||
↝⎙ 8.4.24
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Robin stood on the bleachers, eyes searching for you in the bustling of cheerleaders making their way on the floor. They line up, giving Robin the perfect opportunity to find you. Your hair was in a pretty updo, and your makeup was perfect. The uniform fit you nicely, with the shade of green being Robin's favorite, mostly because it matched her band uniform. 
You smiled toward the stands, cheering to get everyone excited about the game. Even when all the other girls were jumping, cheering, and chanting, Robin's eyes were on you, with a smile on her face. You make her heart race. 
Your eyes connected, a grin spreading from ear to ear on your face, your eyes twinkling. You held eye contact as you ran across the gym floor, letting the other girls help you form a pyramid. While in the air, you did the Hawkins's cheer before jumping down, holding your breath until your feet were safely on the ground.
 
Yet another basketball game was won, leaving all the kids to discuss the after-party. You made a beeline to Robin, watching as she took the boxy hat off and fixed her hair. She smiled, watching as you walked over. “Steve's parents aren't home, so he offered for us to celebrate with a little night swim, if you're down.” She leaned forward, her lips brushing against your cheek. “I'm always down.” 
 
You sat on the edge of Harrington's pool, the top half of your body feeling the nip of the night air, whereas your feet were swishing in the water, used to the coldness. Robin stood in the pool, slotted between your knees. Her hands stroked at the top of your thigh in deep conversation with Steve as he sat in one of the tanning chairs, nursing a beer.
You bit your bottom lip, eyes trailing over her whole face, not paying attention to their conversation at all. She was pretty. In her band uniform, sleep clothes, and bathing suit. You name it, and she made it work somehow. Half the time, she didn't even have to try to get your attention. You were constantly looking at her, admiring her beauty. How could you not?
The giddy feelings that come with new love were strong, seemingly only getting stronger as days went by. It was like a drug—she was like a drug. 
Steve was the one drinking the alcohol, but you were the one intoxicated. 
Robin threw her head back in laughter, finally breaking you out of your trance. When she brought her head back, you were quick to collapse your lips. She made a surprised sound, tightening her grip on your leg for a split second.
“Alright,” Steve grumbled, standing to make his way back into the house. ”I'm too sober for this."
You smiled against Robin's cheek, pecking a freckle right by her ear.
“You scared him away.”
“That was my goal.”
This time it was Robin's time to smile, standing on her tippy-toes against the bottom of the pool, moving to wrap her arms around your waist. “You did amazing today.” She mumbled against your neck, feeling the rumble as you replied.
“So did you. Even with the feather-y hat, you're still the prettiest person on earth.”
“Hey, we don't talk about the forsaken hat.”
Pursing your lips, you dramatically shook your head, “Right, right. Sorry." 
 
Now dry, you sat on Steve's couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Steve sat in a recliner, little snores escaping his slightly parted lips.
Robin laid across the couch, paying attention to the movie, trying to figure out the plot, while playing with your hair as you laid on top of her. Your hands were around her waist, fingers skimming the skin on her under her sleep shirt. Robin felt as you tried muffling a yawn into her stomach, her hands stopping momentarily. “Go to sleep, love.” She whispered, craning her neck to kiss your hair. 
“Wanna finish the movie.” You slurred, your eyes closing in a long blink.
Robin's lip twitched. “I'll tell you how it ends.” 
You reluctantly agreed, letting sleep consume you. She was warm and soft; her breathing and heartbeat lulling you to sleep.
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•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•
•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]
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samkerrworshipper · 11 months
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asthma attacks | leah williamson x reader
based off a req that i got asking for soft boyfriend leah looking after a sick reader!
just a little drabble that’s just some sickness angst and heart warming fluff
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Leah was out for the night. Out with Kim and Lia at some music event that they had decided to go to together. It wasn’t abnormal, Leah was out most weekends, with Alex or teammates. You weren’t a partier, you didn’t enjoy being out and about, you were a practised introvert whereas Leah was not. Normally you were fine with it, insisting to your fiance that she go out and enjoy herself, you enjoyed spending your Saturday night’s on your shared couch, digging into a tub of ice cream and watching whatever trashy reality show you could find.
Tonight though everything had felt off, there had been a sudden change in the weather in London, a sunny day now having a storm loom over the skies. It had put you off, but you hadn’t let it show enough for Leah to catch on, you wanted her to have a good night and you knew that if she was worrying about you she never would. So like normal, you helped her select her outfit, opting for a brown leather pair of slacks and a white v-neck shirt that matched up nicely with a black coat. She looked stunning and you made her aware of it, showering her with kisses and stray arms as she made her way out of the door, promising she’d be home by ten.
You’d started your night by ordering pizza, but you couldn’t shake the feeling in your chest, the slow tightening. It was something you’d never experienced and you shook it off as it just being anxiety. You got your blanket fort ready on the couch, prepared to sit in and watch the episodes of The Real Housewives and clicking play. You pressed pause on the show when you heard the sound of your delivery man at the door, leaping out of your blankets and walking towards your door. You cursed when you realised that your wallet wasn’t at the door, remembering that you had taken it upstairs earlier. You rushed towards your staircase, ignoring the feeling of tightness in your chest as you bounded up the stairs, ignoring the lack of oxygen you seemed to have once you made it to the top, ignoring it and rushing towards your bedroom. It took you hardly any time to track down your wallet, you fished out a series of bills, enough to pay for your food and tip the driver generously, you couldn’t help but feel the oxygen in your lungs, or the lack thereof. You ignored it. Rushing to the door in a haste so as to not leave your delivery man waiting any longer, there was this clench across your torso though that was so sudden and so unexpected. You shoved the money towards the man, quickly trading the pizza box with the cash so you could close the door.
You knew this feeling. In all honesty you hadn’t felt it in too long, a bit too long to send you into some false sense of security but now it was all coming into focus for you. You slid down onto the floor of your house, your lungs no longer being able to support you standing up. You dropped the pizza box to the side of you, your arms clutching at your chest, as you wheezed and struggled for air. You should have known when the storm warnings came, should have known to have your puffer on hand. You were royally fucked now, the all so familiar asthma attack beginning to take a toll on your body.
You reached into the pocket of your lounge pants, fumbling around with the buttons as your vision began to blur from the sheer lack of oxygen that was entering your body. You struggled with the buttons, clicking on the phone one and stumbling through your contacts until you managed to find your girlfriend.
You clicked on her name, praying that she would pick up. The only puffer’s that you had lay in your medicine cabinet and bedside table, for the odd panic attack that you would sometimes procure in your sleep, that often had you barreling into an asthma attack.
You listened carefully to the sound of ringing, cursing in your head when the sound of Leah’s voicemail began to play, her voice did wonders to soothe you but once it was over you couldn’t help but feel overwhelming dread. You scrolled frantically, your hands shaking as the searched for someone else, eventually locating Kim’s number and pressing on it, she was your last hope.
You listened dutifully to the sound of the phone ringing, listening as it slowly began to ring out and ust as you were losing hope the sound of music started to bleed through your speaker.
“Y/n? What’s up?”
You wheezed as you sucked in the oxygen to speak.
“A-Asthma attack, n-need Leah.”
You heard Kim swear under her breath, her deep Scottish accent being portrayed in her words. You could hear her yelling at Leah on the other side of the phone, clearly trying to get the attention of your girlfriend. It took some more yelling and bustling for Leah’s voice to finally meet your ears. You were exhausted, your breaths becoming even harder to take with every second.
“Baby, are you alright? Have you got a puffer?”
You gulped, again taking your time to suck in the oxygen so you could reiterate what was happening to Leah.
“N-No, s’ upstairs, c-can’t breathe.”
You heard Leah take a deep exhale on the other side of the phone, and then yell something out to one of her companions.
“Okay, okay, stay on the phone with me. I’m leaving now, I’ll be home soon, we’re only five minutes away. Just keep talking to me okay.”
You nodded at the phone, the realised that Leah couldn’t see you.
“F-forgot about the s-storm.”
It was true, even though you knew it was one of your triggers it had managed to completely slip your mind, you had been too focused on the obscenely sudden change of weather to think about how it could affect you.
“I know baby girl, it completely slipped my mind as well, just keep taking those deep breaths, blow the candles out remember. I’m going to be home soon, just keep blowing out the candles.”
You nodded into the phone, trying your very hardest to obey Leah’s wish and take the breaths that she had told you too. It wasn’t easy, but you tried your very hardest to allow the oxygen to reenter your body, only for it to be taken away by the tightening in your chest and the wheezes that left your lungs with every little breath you tried to take. You need your puffer, and soon, before you lacked so much oxygen that you passed out.
Leah stayed on the phone with you, murmuring reminders to breathe and other similar advice that was nice but didn’t do very much to calm the struggle that you were having. You made sure to murmur to her every once in a while, reminding the woman that you were still alive.
“Y/n/n, keep blowing the candles out, you're doing so well for me sweet girl, you’ve got this, just keep taking those deep breaths.”
Your head was clouding over with a haze, something you recognised as a symptom of your oxygen deprivation, first came the cloud, then a complete daze and then unconsciousness.
“L-leah, need you.”
Your words were breathy, your lungs struggling to scrap together much more than the half words.
“I know sweet, I’m almost there, just pulling into the driveway now, keep breathing for me.”
You could feel the fog that was plaguing your body begin to thicken and you thanked every god that Leah was close by, that tonight she had opted to keep it local instead of going elsewhere. You listened indepthly as you heard the sound of a car pulling in and fast footsteps making their way across the pavement of your driveway and towards the door.
In the flash of a moment the door was slung open, Leah locating you almost immediately on the floor and crouching down beside you.
“Kim, inhaler, bedside table.”
It was then that you spotted Kim and Lia running in behind her, the three of them about as flustered as flustered could be.
Leah pulled her jacket off, slinging the far to large coat over your nearly bare shoulders, the only thing covering your chest being one of your pyjama tank tops. Your body was shivering wildly, with the lack of everything beginning to truly affect your form.
“Hey, hey honey, look at me, keep blowing out the candles yeah? Take those deep breaths for me, Kim’s fetching your inhaler so just hang in for me.”
You nodded at Leah, trying your very hardest to absorb her words and put them into action.
“Lia, wet towel, now.”
Lia nodded, running off towards your kitchen whilst Leah stayed crouched beside you on the floor. It was seconds later that Kim came bounding down your staircase, a inhaler clutched in one of her hands. She threw it to Leah, who caught it with ease and very quickly brought it to your mouth, pressing down on the puffer as to allow you to take in some of the medicine that you so desperately needed. You ran the process a multitude of times, Leah insisted that you take as many puffs of the medication as you were allowed to. As soon as you were done you slumped against Leah, her body coming to rest beside you against the wall of your hallway, slinging her arm around you so she could bring you to her chest, letting you feel her deep breaths and try to copy them.
When Lia returned with the towel Leah pressed it against your head, letting you feel the contrast of the cold. You’d found over time that the cold tended to shock your body into normality, and that sometimes it would assist in helping an attack pass.
It was just a waiting game, waiting for the ventolin to force your lungs to untighten, forcing them to do the job that they were supposed to, that you so wished they would do naturally. Slowly the medication worked, slowly it started to take effect on your body, allowing you to float down from the haze that you’d been in.
“M’ sorry I wrecked your night.”
The other two women had sat themselves down on the wall opposite you two, the two of them sporting equally concerned faces.
“You did no such thing, I should have known that with the storm coming there was a chance you would be affected by it, never should have left your side.”
Leah leant down to your head, pressing a gentle kiss to your hairline that lasted for quite a few seconds.
“Ruined your night though.”
It was Kim’s deep Scottish accent that boomed through this time, being the only noise in the hallway beside the sound of your constricted breaths.
“You did not ruin anybody's night, we wanted you to call us, if you ever feel like that we’d want you to call us, you had a asthma attack, a completely human thing that you couldn’t have prevented. All is well as long as you are feeling fine.”
You nodded at Kim, grateful for the smile that the older woman, your captain gave you.
“I’ll be alright now, thanks to you.”
It was true, without the help of the women you would probably be dead, unable to do much more than collapse on the floor of your house and slowly choke on your own breaths.
“It’s no trouble at all, we’re always here to help if you need, we better get going now, keep an eye on this one Lee.”
Kim reached down to ruffle your hair, helping Lia up and the two of them saying their goodbyes before exiting your house.
Leah continued to hold you in her arms as your breaths evened out, slowly returning to normal as the medication began to fully work.
“M’ so sorry sweetheart, I should have known with the storm.”
You shushed Leah’s worries, a hand reaching up to her mouth to stop her from venting.
“Hey, I forgot as well, neither of us are at fault, it happens. Nothing would have stopped it from happening, it just happened to be that tonight you were out, but you were here, you got here and I’m fine, I’m going to be fine.”
Leah nodded at you, leaning down to press another set of kisses to your face, placing them all over your face and forehead before reaching down to peck your lips.
“Never leaving you again, you are going to be stuck at my side forever.”
You rolled your eyes at Leah’s words, knowing that her protective nature would take over for the next two weeks before it faded and she returned to her normal ways.
“I’m going to have to brush up on my dance moves then.”
Leah snorted, knowing that the day she got you out on the dance floor would be a monumental moment for sure.
“Nope, never leaving this house, going to keep you wrapped up in our bed forever, no more risks for you.”
You rolled your eyes at Leah once again, ignoring her frightfully overbearing boyfriend tendencies that seemed to come into play after every single time something happened to you.
“Sounds like a pretty good life to me.”
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s-brant · 3 months
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Please I am begging you to make a part 2 or 3 or 4 to threes company?!?! Like I would PAY YOU!! I need to see how Art and reader fuck vs reader and Patrick then all of them together again because that fic was so fucking sexy
I don’t feel like I could do a full part two for three’s company right now but I can absolutely do some blurbs abt how both of them fuck reader one on one as well as when the three of them hook up again. Sorry for the late response, this took a minute to write out. 18+ below the cut.
Patrick would be insatiable. He’d go crazy for putting her on all fours and fucking her roughly from behind with his hand pulling her hair. With them paired alone, he would naturally take on a dominant role and manhandle her into whatever position he wants. He would take a sense of pride in it too, as though he’s winning a competition between him and Art every time he fucks her. If he heard about the time Art made her come four times in a night, this would feed his competitive side. He loves to tease her when he’s fucking her hard and deep, her wrists pinned above her head, by asking her if Art ever fucks her this well and demanding an answer from her that she’s too sheepish to give. I see him being more incentivized to “prove himself” every time they hook up seeing that he only sees her when he visits Stanford whereas Art is with her on a daily basis. His favorite place to come is on her face or tits. Seeing it glistening on her skin is enough to get him hard again in a matter of moments, and he’ll gather it on his fingers to spoon-feed it into her mouth.
Art is more tender of a lover than Patrick, but that doesn’t mean he’s lacking any passion. He starts out quite gentlemanly and sweet, but that quickly gives way to an all-consuming desperation that almost possesses him. He takes great pleasure in going down on her—the actual definition of a munch—and could come untouched in his boxers from doing it. When it comes to the main event, he’s a switch. Depending on his mood, as well as the energy she’s giving off, he could fuck her rough and fast like Patrick often does, or slow and tender. His favorite position is having her on her back with her legs over his shoulders and pressed to her chest to let him thrust as deeply as he can while still being face to face. He’s such a sucker for eye contact when he’s inside of her. Nothing turns him on more than watching her face twist up into an expression of pleasure with her body pinned beneath his. His favorite place to come is inside of her, and despite her being on contraceptives and them being too young, it turns into a breeding kink. Once he gets past the shyness of admitting to it, he won’t let her leave for class without having his load dripping out of her.
The next time they fuck her together, she would take control. Art and Patrick would be so excited, almost buzzing with energy the second get her alone in her dorm room. Patrick would find it hot to force Art to sit back and watch him fuck her, but it would only go on for so long before she’d begin to feel bad for cuckholding him and ask Patrick to let him join. He would always say yes, because how could anyone say no to her, but not without complaining about how much she “babies” Art. He, of course, would go to her like the devoted little lap dog he is and kiss her sweetly as a “thank you” for her allowing him in on the fun. They wouldn’t go the route of double penetration too often for her sake, so the next time it happens, Art would lay beside her as Patrick eats her out and kiss her, cupping her breast and kneading it the entire time.
Once they get an orgasm out of her, they’ll lay her on her back with her head on the end of the bed and—actually—play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to fuck her mouth and who gets her cunt. It goes two out of three, and Art wins, so he practically jumps onto her and settles between her wide-spread thighs grinning from ear to ear. As stated above, at this point in their relationship, he has a thing for coming inside of her, which later develops into a full-blown breeding kink, so he’s happy where he’s at. And so is Patrick. No girl had ever let him fuck her mouth before, so when she lays her head back on the edge of the bed and opens her mouth up for him, he almost loses it. Being as relentless and unforgiving a lover as he is, he doesn’t take it easy on her. He lets her gag and swallow around him, his cock deep in her throat, and groans at the sight of her tits bouncing from the force of Art’s thrusts. When they’re both close, about to spill into her from how her throat and cunt squeeze around them, they make eye contact. They come instantly.
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you-were-alone-too · 2 months
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the aftermath of eddie's death & what it means for mike's arc in season 5
someone may have already posted a similar theory before, so i apologize if i'm super late to this, but i've had this theory in mind ever since the s5 set pictures of dustin and mike were dropped, and i've been wanting to make a post about it ever since. basically, we're going to take a look at eddie's respective relationships with dustin and mike and how his death will affect them both, but especially mike in s5.
in s4, the show made it super clear that eddie had a close relationship with the boys in the party, more specifically mike and dustin (since lucas is on a quest to be popular and joined the basketball team, we can guess this prevented them from being as close). although we don't get to see much of eddie's relationship with mike, his friendship with dustin is heavily established throughout the entirety of the season. while both mike and dustin value eddie for being a cooler, older high school boy that embraces their shared interests despite the fact that it makes him an outcast, the impact of these relationships, and ultimately, his death, will affect them in completely different ways.
while both mike and dustin value eddie's commitment to embracing his true self/interests, the difference in the impact of their respective relationships is that mike struggles with the fact that he's different whereas dustin is more comfortable in his own identity.
a great example of this is when eddie talks about how he remembers the first time that he met dustin and mike; he says dustin was wearing a weird al t-shirt, which he "thought was brave," while mike was wearing "whatever his mommy bought him from the goddamn gap". not to mention mike trying to "dress cool" when he visits el in california, being afraid of seeming childish by playing d&d and liking christmas presents, not to mention:
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so what does this have to do with their arcs in s5, particularly mike's?
eddie's character represents one of the show's core themes: non-conformity. right before eddie dies, he makes dustin promise to never change. and when dustin tells wayne that he was with eddie when the earthquake hit, the main thing he emphasizes is that eddie never changed even as he was dying.
one of the first scenes that gaten filmed for s5 shows him wearing his hellfire club t-shirt, which is now faded and full of holes, and his hair is also grown out even longer (possibly to resemble eddie's hair, like mike in s4). in the picture of the party members' hands on top of each other, we can also see he's wearing (presumably) one of eddie's rings.
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as for mike, one of the first pictures we see of him on set for s5 shows him with a haircut and outfit that nearly resembles his appearance in s1. after the beginning of s4 showed mike growing out his hair (which was confirmed to be inspired by eddie), playing d&d again, and saying he doesn't want to be popular, we now see him in s5 conforming back to how he used to dress. how his parents want him to look. normal.
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in the aftermath of eddie's death, it's clear that as a symbol of non-conformity and self-acceptance, his death has impacted dustin and mike in completely different ways.
for dustin, he sees eddie's untimely death as a legacy he must continue. a vow he made to eddie in his dying breath to never change. and now, he's sticking to his word by embracing all that eddie did and stood for in life, almost as if he's trying to physically emulate eddie to become that symbol for himself and others.
as for mike, he's lost without that symbol. he saw eddie as a symbol of hope, safety, and bravery, a person that made him feel like it's okay to be different, to stand out, to not conform with what society wants him to be. without eddie, he's on the opposite trajectory; now that eddie's gone, that reassurance and safety he felt about standing out is gone too, and now he's regressing into the person that he thinks everyone expects him to be.
it's not that shocking since as soon as he's away from eddie in s4, he goes back to trying to fit in around el. but what's even more interesting is that mike seems to become himself again once it's just him and will in s4; although will carries himself in a much more subtle way than eddie, will also inspires mike to feel confident in himself, to feel like he can be different.
but before there was eddie as a symbol of non-conformity, there was jonathan byers. from the get-go in season 1, we see jonathan encouraging will to be himself, such as telling him "you shouldn't like things because people tell you you're supposed to." then we see mike get a similar, louder version of this encouragement in the form of eddie. both mike and will have role models that encourage them to be different. both mike and will feel like they can be themselves around each other in a way they can't with anyone else because they're the same kind of different. "i saw you on the swings, and you were alone too" "maybe i feel like i lost you or something" "hawkins, it's not the same with you." "you make [me] feel like [i'm] not a mistake at all, like [i'm] better for being different" "we'll go crazy together, right?"
even though will does make mike feel like it's okay to be himself, it's not enough to fully pull him out of his shell. eddie had that power as an older male role model that mike could look up to and admire. someone that could give him a look into the future and show him that being different on the outside isn't all that bad. but then, not only does eddie die, but even in death, he's still viewed as satanic and monstrous because he was openly different.
now in s5, mike is going to have to come to grips with eddie's death and the loss he associates with that. how he thinks that eddie being dead is proof that standing out is dangerous, that it's wrong, that it's sinful. he has a lot of fear to work through, but in the end, he's going to get there, and will is going to be there at his side the entire time, reminding him that they make each other feel like they're better for being different, so it must not be so bad after all.
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